Taking Chances: Kayla's Chance

The next day I alternated between watching Centerfold like a hawk and wearing a trench in the shedrow. The race was scheduled for three o’clock and out of eight races The Juvenile was sixth. Then it was the Lady’s Classic and The Classic. Like a Lady was the favorite in the Lady’s Classic. Think Fast and By the Book were co favorites in The Classic.
“Looks good for Silver’s future,” Bo commented. He and Mik were watching me pace.
“Mmm-hmm,” I responded noncomically.
“Uh-oh, she’s not even obsessing over Silver,” Mik said with mock horror.
“But I thought this whole thing was about Silver,” Bo feigned surprise.
“It was. But every horse that’s good enough to win The Juvenile should get a chance to prove it.”
“And you didn’t want to buy him,” Bo scoffed.
I glared at him. “That was before I knew he had the capability to win The Juvenile. And the Triple Crown.”
“Whoa, hold up Kay. The Triple Crown is over six months away-” Mik began.
“Doesn’t hurt to plan ahead does it?”
“And you didn’t want to buy him,” Bo repeated.

The atmosphere in the saddling paddock was much different that the other races I’d ridden in. A lot more was at stake, so the tension was running high. A lot of the colts picked up on it. Off the Record pranced as his groom led him around. Even Centerfold’s head was high and his ears were pricked.
“You know the drill,” my father said as Bo led Centerfold over to us.
“Yep,” I said as he boosted me into the saddle. I looked over at my father. “We’re winning this one.”
“Now that’s the attitude,” Bo praised as he led us towards the tunnel that would take us to the track. We’d pulled the eighth position, between Off the Record and a colt named Twinkle Toes.
At the end of the tunnel, Bo handed the colt off to an outrider and smiled up at me. “See you in the winner’s circle.”
I let Centerfold test the footing of the track and then we were warming up. Thankfully the horse remained calm because I was a mess. He galloped along half-heartedly as he always did unless it was go time. Thankfully Felipe kept his distance. I guess he’d finally realized that he couldn’t beat me.
We headed towards the gate and the attendants quickly started loading us. The sixth horse, Easy Treasure, balked at going into the gate and we were delayed while the colt was forcefully shoved in. Then they loaded Off the Record, then us. A gate attendant grabbed Centerfold’s bridle inside the chute as we waited for the other horses to load.
“Don’t worry rookie,” Felipe said from my left. “You aren’t going to win this.”
I turned my head to glare at him. “We’ll see about that.”
Centerfold must have been feeling the tension because he bobbed his head as I put my goggles into place.
“One back!” a gate attendant called.
Everything seemed to slow down with those two words. I took a deep breath and exhaled. I grabbed a chunk of mane, knowing I would need it for the jump from the gate. I looked beyond the wire mesh in front t of me to the empty track. One mile and one sixteenth. It would be the first time Centerfold had run around two turns. The next two turns and two minuets would determine mine, Centerfold’s, and Silver’s future.
I heard the last gate close and tensed for the gate to spring open. For three seconds, there was complete silence except for the breathing and occasional pawing of one of the fourteen colts. Then the bell rang and the doors flew open.
Only the launch forward I had expected didn’t come. Centerfold didn’t move from the open chute. Then I noticed where the gate attendant’s hand was: twisting Centerfold’s upper lip, basically paralyzing him. I barely made the connection to the colt’s unusual head tossing before the man abruptly released us and Centerfold practically fell out of the gate.
He went down to his knees and I clung to his mane for dear life. It took the colt a few precious seconds to organize himself, then, seeing the pack of horses pulling away from him, he sprang into action. It took me a full furlong to get myself organized and determine that nothing was wrong with the colt’s stride. I looked ahead to the field of thirteen other horses; the closest one, Jump Start, was a good furlong and a half away.
The next thought that crossed my mine was that there was no chance in hell of us winning this race. Not with only six furlongs left. I felt Centerfold hauling against me to give him his head. Well we were going to try anyway.
“Alright boy let’s get ‘um!” I crouched low over his neck, let out a fingerful of rein, and held on to his black mane.
In the background, I could hear the track announcer: “And Centerfold has found his stride as the field hits the top of the stretch with Desert Diver leading. Back a length its Ada Boy and Easy Treasure followed by Six Pack and Maxed Out. The favorite Off the Record is holding sixth with Smart Storm and Twinkle Toes. Then it’s back a length to the European colt Sure of Himself. Forever and Always, Ambassador, Double O Seven, Jump Start and back a good ten lengths to Centerfold.”
Centerfold was pulling against me for more as we hit the turn, quickly closing the gap between us and Jump Start. But I held him back, knowing it would take everything he had and more to pull off a win. He was already breathing harder than he had in any other race and it was only have way through.
“With four furlongs to go in The Juvenile Ada Boy and Easy Treasure are challenging Desert Diver for the lead. Off the Record is moving past Maxed Out and Six Pack. Centerfold is still two lengths off Jump Start and ten off the leaders.”
And fighting me every step of the way. My arms felt like noodles as, with three furlongs left, we pulled even with Jump Start.
“Let him go Kay!” Jeff shouted. He was starting to let Jump Start open up as we hit the top of the turn.
Centerfold seconded that with a sharp yank that forced me to let his mouth go a couple inches. He dug in deep and charged past Jump Start as Jeff was trying to get the other colt to move. I grabbed a chunk of mane as we approached the chestnut Double O Seven.
“All right boy, let’s run!” And I let him out. The colt took off like a bullet out of a gun. We swung wide around Double O Severn and bore down on Ambassador. I felt the colt switch his lead to get on the inside of the bay colt and we flew past him. It took some quick eyes and hooves to find the holes that would get us clear, but with a furlong left, I saw an empty track. Without any urging from me, the black colt flew.
“In the last furlong Centerfold has caught up with the leaders! The colt is in the middle of the track and driving! He’s leaving the field in the dust and with half a furlong left, he’s three lengths back from Off the Record!”
I looked left at the other colt who I knew wasn’t going to just sit down and let me pass him. We had decreased our gap to a length. I urged the colt on with my hands and made a kissing sound with my lips.
From somewhere, I felt the colt give one last burst. From some unknown reserve, he shot forward to pull even with Off the Record as we flashed under the wire and pulled past him after the finish.
“Whoa boy, all right you’re done.” It took the colt a second longer than normal to slow his pace. In the background, I could hear the announcer booming:
“What a finish! Twenty lengths off the leaders in the beginning of the race, the black colt comes out of nowhere to end in a photo finish! If that’s not a superhorse, I don’t know what is.”
“I agree my boy,” I told the colt, rubbing his neck vigorously. “That’s what a racehorse is.”
An outrider galloped up to me and grabbed the colt’s bridle. “Damn what a run!” he exclaimed.
“Tell me about it,” I said breathlessly, patting the colt over and over again. The colt bobbed his head and pranced. He was blowing hard, but he didn’t seem to notice. In his eyes, he had won. In my eyes, the colt had won too.
“They can’t keep you down boy.” With that, my thoughts turned back to the staring gate. I turned to the outrider. “One of the gate attendants-”
“They caught him. He won’t say anything though.”
“He was probably paid well enough.”
“Won’t be worth it when the stewards are through with him. Everyone is already taking bets on who paid him.”
“I have an idea or two myself,” I muttered.
Just then, one of the television reporters that they allowed on a horse loped up to me on her probably drugged pinto.
“Kayla what happened out there?” she asked.
“The gate attendant held him back long enough for him to loose the race if he were any less a horse.”
“I mean that was one great run for getting delayed at the start.”
“He’s one great horse,” I responded, patting the colt again.
“Do you think he won it?”
“I’m sure of it. But even if he didn’t, he’s hands-down the best horse out here and in my eyes, he won it.”
“That was a very confident Kayla McLochland. This race was so close that the stewards are currently reviewing the race tape with a fine-toothed comb. There is also talk of disqualifying Off the Record for potential foul play by the owner Rosery Acers. I’m Tina Lark, Channel 5 News.” Then the camera was clicked off the Tina rode towards Off the Record.
Felipe and I reached the winner’s circle about the same time and I heard a voice that I’d never wanted to hear again.
“Of course he won. Why wouldn’t he have? He was the best horse in the field,” Becky boasted.
Bo took Centerfold’s bridle from the outrider and looked up at me. “It was a dead heat,” he said seriously.