the Mock Race.... and the Truth

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"Go!"

The horses leaped, faltered, and rose to the occasion magnificently as they powered forwards. BD leveled out as I moved my arms with his head, going with the motion.

Wind tore past me, screaming in my ears and yanking tears from my eyes, tugging at my hair and clothes and trying to pull me from the horse I clung to.

It was wonderful to be galloping again.

Skip sprang joyfully beside us, tail cracking and ears pricked cleverly fowards, Lilac riding seriously despite his antics. BD could easily outstrip him, but for now I waited patiently on his back, knowing I could make my move at any second and pull away.

Jack and Willifred were on the far side of the track, ready with coffee. It was early, even by racehorse standards, but we could think of no other way to do our mock race without anybody seeing- particularly Wes.

As though he sensed my thoughts, BD began to lift his head and slow.

"No!"

I pressed him on, but Skip had taken advantage and moved in front of us, Lilac glancing over her shoulder at me, puzzled.

Lowering his head again, BD pulled at the ground, shoulders churning powerfully as he flew, bounding ahead of Skip. His ears flickered towards me as we neared the final bend in the track, a lavender sunrise falling across the newly dragged sand, marred only by two sets of hoofprints.

We'd won. It didn't feel like I'd imagined it would- thrilling, proud- but I stood higher in my stirrups and stroked his neck, not even dampened with sweat, BD's signal to slow. He did willingly, snorting out a breath with each step, neck bowed, kicking out playfully.

"Victory is ours!" I called cheerfully ahead to Jack and Willifred's silhouettes. Behind me, Skip came roaring up the track, his breath coming out in loud bursts. I turned in the saddle to watch Lilac press him on, asking for a burst of speed after he should've been tired. He was fit and eager and gave her what she wanted.

As they breezed past us, I dragged BD to a halt, letting him chew at the bit and heave as we stopped in front of the gate, looking at Jack and the trainer. To my surprise, both were scowling.

"That wasn't a race," Jack said scornfully. "That was two horses galloping, and one galloping faster than the other."

"Isn't that what a race is?" I asked, confused. BD shifted below me, a rolling ocean held back by the little ship that was me. I tugged on the reins to remind him I was there and he steadied.

Jack rolled his eyes, but Willifred spoke. "No, a race is an acknowledgement of victory and losing... BD was out for a stroll in the park. Skip wasn't engaging either."

This last bit was because Lilac had finally ridden back, posting easily on Skip. She handled the bay so expertly, I had to remember her ride on Goodie, and how she hadn't won a jewel on the crown yet. Would Belmont be her turn?

"I know." She shook her head. "He was feeling silly, and BD wouldn't concentrate. We should have picked a different horse- Goodie would've done the trick."

"And gotten you fired," Willifred growled. He seemed to grow more cranky with every passing word. "No, we should've used Jersey Boy."

I avoided looking at Lilac. There were very few horses in this world that BD would've considered competition, and Jersey Boy was not one of them.

Jack shook his head. "Whatever. We ran him, he didn't run, let's stop pushing him and see if the Belmont will be just another disaster." With a disgusted snort, he pushed away from the fence, wheeling his chair expertly around back to the barn.

And then I understood. I'd ruined BD's chances for complete fame, but he was a horse. In the end, he didn't know nor care if his name was put on a little bronze plaque in a hall of fame.

But I'd also ruined Jack's only chance. With his leg the way it was, he wouldn't be able to race again after BD's campaign was over, and if he did it wouldn't be the grueling races BD was competing in now.
I'd given him a taste of his dreams, a hope, a chance, only to break it and smash it and toss it into the incinerator. He knew what he was missing. And it was all my fault.

Willifred leveled me with his strangely even gaze. "Will you go apologize?"

I nodded. We all knew what for.

He dismissed us with a wave of his hand. "Go cool off your horses."

*****

The day was turning into an incredibly purple one. Lavender morning had faded into dark violet clouds, crackling with lightning, and the clear sky the storm had left behind was dusted with indigo onsets of night, streaked with lighter purple as the sun crouched against the horizon.

BD and I waded through the dusky light, dappled with dark patches of trees. He walked slowly- he was tired after our race, but content, too.

I glanced behind me, at Jack astride a sleepy chestnut mare doused in a faint purply sheen. He rode bareback, legs wrapped around her swaying belly, heavy with foal. They passed a tree and sunlight crept through the branches, slashing gold across his stormy face.

Apologies prodded against my tongue, sorries and regrets, but none of them were right. We'd ridden for an hour and now headed back, not a single word passing between us. Finally, after I'd exhausted every idea, there was only one left, cowering and naked and pathetic in my mind, just a single truth.

"I know it's my fault, and you have every right to be mad at me, but... I liked it better when you weren't."

I rode in front, and I didn't turn around, but I heard the irritation in Jack's voice and didn't need to see it on his face. "You're so caught up on being hurt that you don't realize that you're hurting others."

The truth, yes.

"I'm trying to stop.... I'm trying." My voice rose, just a bit, and with it BD's head as he flickered a startled ear back.

"You're emoting."

Deep breath. One that filled my lungs until they seemed fit to burst, as I tried to settle myself. I drew into myself until BD snorted, stretched against the bit and released.

I couldn't have done that just a few weeks ago. 

"It's not that hard to get a hold of your emotions, if you want to. If you don't...."

BD's head flew up again as I yanked him to a stop, whirling around and planting a hand on his rump to steady my seat in the saddle. I glared at Jack. "Are you saying I purposely threw his race?"

He glowered back, dark eyes flashing as he steadied the mare. "That's exactly what I'm saying. Some sort of your subconsciousness- you wanted your horse to win, but you also wanted to wallow in your own misery," he snarled. "What happens if your goldfish dies? What happens if I die? Will you go floating through the rest of your life, 'woe-is-me Anna', everybody walking around you like you're broken glass? Is that how it's going to go?"

And, just like that, my fury left me. Jack was right. I exhaled again, and again, and with each breath my negative energy left me and floated into the abyss. Hopefully to haunt Wes. "No," I said. "That's not how it's going to go. I'm sick of being sad and letting it affect me, and my parents, and BD, and everybody I love. If I won't let go for me, I'll do it for you and everybody else. Because- you're right. I'm done."

This I'm done felt different from the one that lingered in my mind when I thought I was quitting on BD. This one felt lighter, somehow, rather than weighing on my shoulders. Jack studied me intently, then nodded.

"You've said as much before."

"Yes, but...." he cut me off before I could try to amend that.

"But I believe you this time."

"Why?"

A smile crept over his face, sweet and forgiving. "Because BD believes you."

Sure enough, BD was standing quietly, ears flopped and eyes peaceful. His neck softened as he turned his head to look at me, and then past me and towards Jack. He knew exactly who we were talking about, and I felt a rush of joy bound up in me.

BD believed in me.

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