Yearning to Live

Prove It

Rachel drove up the gravel driveway and parked her car. She stepped out and walked over to the barn. She heard a faint noise. Then poles hitting the ground. A figure materialized at the end of the barn. It was Anna. She changed since middle school. Her hair was still thick, but it had more red, and she kept it shoulder length, but it didn't look too short. Her eyes were still the dark brown hinted with orange. She grew taller and she was still a good inch or two smaller than me, which made her giant compared to some jockeys. She approached and I saw a hint of mischief in her eyes. She had something up her sleeve, as usual, it would probably hurt her.

I crutched up to Rachel nervous. I needed her to agree with me. I reached her and I stood up straight on the crutches. I took a deep breath trying to prepare my speech but I just gave it a go. " Hmmm. How do I say this. Can I do something?" " Depends. What is it?" " I wanna ride one last time before the Belmont. " " Two things. One, why. Two, what makes you think you'll be in the Belmont?" " Never mind the Belmont, but Natasha thinks she can race Survivor in the Preakness. I wanted to have a match race with her, just a lap or two to prove if she can ride or not." " Does Natasha have a jockeys license?" " That's what she says." Rachel thought for a moment and I got nervous. " Very well, but under my supervision. If it starts to hurt, signal and maybe we'll clock there or something, but my point is to pull up if it starts to hurt." I agreed and we settled the small details.

I chose the mount White Shadow. He was a mottled gray, two years old, and 16.5 hh. He was a speed demon on dirt, but a devil on turf. So this would be a perfect match race to stretch his legs. Plus he joined Survivor and her journey to the triple crown, hr was at the Derby for other races and will be a Plimico for a cool down, because he is going to race in the Belmont. Tom tacked him up and led him out. We walked to the outside rail and waited for the track to clear.
At about five thirty, I mounted White Shadow as Rachel approached the track. She leaned against the rail and I moved White Shadow, nicknamed Gray next to her. We started small talk about stuff, life, whatever. Then Gray flicked his ears back. I turned slightly in the saddle and I saw Natasha leading Survivor out tacked up. She came over to us and we locked eyes. A friendly competition. The race was on.