Ripples Through Time (5 page)

No, especially in a situation like this.

“Okay,” she said after good twenty seconds. Calvin let go. “I
think it’s clear.” 

The foal began whinnying louder, kicking her legs and
sucking in air. Calvin breathed a sigh of relief. The mare and foal would both
be okay now.

“Perfect,” he said.

The girl beamed a smile at him. He was suddenly very glad
he’d decided not to go out tonight.

“Well done,” Calvin said, standing up. “And thank you so
much for helping me. I’ll have to clean the stall and give the mare a bath. They’ll
both be just fine.”

The girl nodded, looking down at her clothes. Her expression
changed to one of resigned disgust. Calvin stifled a laugh, and she was too
distracted by her clothing to notice. She was covered in birthing fluids from
the foal, devastated by it but trying hard not to show how much it bothered her.
It was endearing.

He didn’t want to embarrass her by drawing attention to her
discomfort, and he was impressed as hell with her. Not many people he knew
could have done what she did without batting an eyelash. She was easily allowed
a little discomfort.

“Okay,” she said.

“There’s a pump over on the west end of the barn you can use
to wash your clothes off. I’ve got it from here. Thanks again.”

She nodded and stood up, walking gingerly to try and keep
from smearing the blood into her clothes. It wouldn’t do any good, he knew, but
he wasn’t going to tell her that. The best he could do was to warn her to wear
cheap clothes next time.

The crowd parted around the mare and slowly dispersed. Only
a few children, he saw, had stuck around through the entire birthing process,
and Mary was still waiting for her friend to be finished helping Calvin. As the
girl rejoined Mary, still covered in blood, they engaged in a hushed
conversation. Gradually, they moved away from the stall, and Calvin couldn’t
hear what was said.

Calvin wiped the foal down and spent the next fifteen
minutes making sure the mare had no punctures that could get infected. The vet
would be by in the morning to check them both out, but he didn’t want to leave
her overnight without making sure she would be alright.

Mikey crept back up while he was working, a sheepish look on
his face. The kid was pale, hardly breathing. He didn’t have the most resolute
of stomachs. 

“How’d it go?”

“It went fine,” Calvin said, “no thanks to you.”

“I was waking up Butch,” Mikey protested. “He told me to get
him as she went into labor. Anytime of night.”

“And let me guess,” Calvin added, wiping his hands on his
jeans and standing up. “He’ll be here in the morning?”

Mikey nodded. “He also wasn’t quite so happy about the ‘anytime
of night’ thing. I sort of added that myself.”

Calvin chuckled. “I checked them both out. Mother and foal
are both healthy and safe. They’ll keep until morning. Want to get a coke?”

“Sure. But I don’t have any money…”

“I’ll buy. After I change.” He started toward the stall door
and hesitated: “Hey, and ask that girl who was in here helping if she wants a
coke. I’ll buy her one too, she was a lot of help. You know, just now…with the
foal.” 

He couldn’t help himself. He felt an intense need to explain.

“Who? The one with blood on her clothes? She left.”

“Oh,” he said. His voice betrayed him, sounding considerably
more let down than he’d expected.

Mikey didn’t seem to notice. “She’s one of Mary’s friends. I
could ask Mary—“

“No, no, that’s alright. Just thought I’d see if she was
still here,” Calvin said, heading out the stall. “I’ll meet you at Willy’s once
I get changed. Order us both a coke.”

The restaurant was empty when Calvin arrived. Except for
Mikey. The place had fifteen tables and four ceiling fans just barely above
Calvin’s head. A juke box sat in the corner, but it only played seven songs.

The eight year old had a bottle of coke on the counter
flanked by his elbows and was sipping through a straw. His eyes shot up when
Calvin entered but he didn’t stop drinking. His legs were kicking the air
beneath his stool a full two feet above the ground.

There was another bottle next to him. Ice cold. Calvin
popped the top off and took a sip. “Where’s Willy?” It didn’t feel right,
drinking in Willy’s dine-in restaurant without the fat old man there with them.

“Sleeping,” Mikey said, after a suitable ‘ah’ and belch.

“You woke him up too?”

Mikey shrugged. “He said to leave the money on the counter.”

Calvin sighed and fished a bill out of his pocket. “I don’t
have change. I was hoping to get a plate of fries too. I’m starving.”

“The freezer’s unlocked,” Mikey said. Calvin narrowed his
eyes. “What? He gave me his keys!”

“He did?”

Mikey looked away. A sure sign he was lying. “I 
have 
his
keys.” 

Willy Parson was Mikey’s uncle. After Mikey’s dad didn’t
return from the war Willy had taken the kid in. But at arm’s length. Calvin
couldn’t think of a time when Willy wasn’t angry with Mikey, and he showed how
grateful he was taking care of him with near constant beatings.

Which meant most of the time Mikey stayed away.

“Alright,” Calvin said. “You already stole the keys so we
might as well make the best of it.”

Calvin worked around the counter and grabbed a box of
matches. The oil would take a good twenty minutes to heat up, but he didn’t
mind. The longer he waited the better the fries would taste.

He dug in his pockets and found another bill. Maybe he’d
cook himself a burger too. Willy always cooked them too long anyway. He could
make it better himself.

“When’s the next race?” Mikey asked.

“Thursday,” Calvin replied.

“Dig. That’s tomorrow,” Mikey said after a moment. Calvin
glanced at the clock. Just after one in the morning.

“Yeah, I guess it is now,” he said. “Shouldn’t you be in
bed?”

Mikey ignored that. “Do you have any horses in the race?”

“I don’t have 
any
 horses.”

“I mean the ones you train.”

“I’m an assistant trainer.”

“Geez, I was just asking a question.”

Calvin sighed and grabbed a handful of beef from the ice
chest. Willy was running low. He would probably take Mikey on a run to the
butcher tomorrow. 

“I know you were. Sorry. I’m just tired,” Calvin said,
flattening out the beef into two patties and setting them aside.

But that was only partly true. He was also, he knew,
distracted. He couldn’t get the girl’s face out of his mind. He hadn’t been
introduced to her before, but he’d seen her around. Where did she come from? Did
she even live around here?

He didn’t bring that up to Mikey, though. No sense trying to
explain that to the little kid.

He ignited the grill and then leaned against the counter,
waiting for it to heat up. “Faraway Bay is racing. I think he’s the only one I
train that’s in a stakes race this month.”

Mikey nodded. His coke was empty and he dragged the straw
across the bottom, slurping up all the little droplets. Calvin idly
straightened some silverware and took another swig of his own drink.

“Can I get another?”

“You can get water,” Calvin said. Mikey shrugged and went to
the sink to pour himself a glass.

“Who’s riding?”

“Thursday? I don’t know. Probably Ivan again. Or maybe
Frankie.”

“Are you going to go watch the race?”

Calvin shrugged. “Tickets are expensive, and mine isn’t free
since I’m only assistant trainer.”

“Well, isn’t Faraway Bay going to win?”

“Probably. He’s racing down a class so he’s by far the best
horse in the race.”

“Then bet on him and win back the cost of a ticket. Heck,
I’m sure you could win back the cost of 
two
 tickets pretty
easily...”

Calvin groaned. He could see where this was going. “Your
uncle isn’t taking you?”

Mikey looked at the bar again. “No, he has to work.”

“I don’t know if I’m even going to go,” Calvin said. “I need
to spend some time grooming the rest of the stable and Butch hasn’t even told
me if I can have the day off yet.”

Mikey was silent for a long minute. Calvin picked up the
patties and tossed them on the grill, and then he dumped a bag of potato
strings into one of the baskets and dropped it into the oil. The sound of
sizzling food filled the air. Calvin felt his stomach grumble and wondered
where Willy kept the horseradish sauce.

A minute passed in silence as they both savored the smell.

Outside, a wolf howled at the distant moon.

And then:

“Emily will be there,” Mikey said. His voice was barely
above a whisper.

“Who?” Calvin asked. Great mystery of life, his heart
skipped a beat. He already knew Mikey’s answer.

“Emily. The girl who helped you with Maribeth’s Dream.”

Calvin sensed a trap. “So?”

“So I was just saying that she’s going to be there.”

Calvin decided that Mikey was just a little too clever for
his own good. “Why would that matter?”

Mikey shrugged as if to say it didn’t. Calvin bit back a
curse.

Calvin put the fries and burgers onto two plates and set
them down on the counter, taking his seat next to Mikey and mulling the idea
over in his mind. He tried to convince himself that there was a choice in the
matter.

“You know Emily?” he asked.

“Uh huh,” Mikey said, biting into his sandwich.

“And…you’re sure she’s going to be there? You know, so I
could thank her for…”

He stopped himself and sighed. Mikey was staring at him,
chewing a huge mouthful of food, and his eyes were grinning. “Uh huh,” Mikey
said with his mouth full.

Calvin sighed. He still had six dollars in his pocket.

“Be here at eight.”

Calvin regretted not bringing a fedora to the racetrack with
him. It was late in the season but the sun was still sweltering just past
midday. He knew he would have burns on the back of his neck, but that would be
okay. It was one of the last few good race days of the year, and he didn’t
regret shelling out the dollar fifty to get him and Mikey in.

He did regret, however, the other three dollars he’d lost so
far gambling. Two of them he would have sworn were sure fire winners, but the
track was running fast today. Both horses liked to take the lead and stay
there, but with outside post positions they’d both ended up breaking in the
middle of the pack. And there they had stayed.

But at least the atmosphere was pleasant. The grandstand was
packed with bodies. Moving from one side of the courtyard to the other took ten
minutes of constant ‘excuse me’s. It was a sea of hats with people dressed in
their Sunday best. Calvin liked big crowds. They were alive with
electricity and energy. Everyone was here to socialize and to watch horses run.
This was his community.

Someone bumped into him, pushing him further against the
fence. He glanced at the man as they split apart, received a muttered apology,
and then the man disappeared. Calvin checked his pocket—not the back one like
most rubes, but the front one—to make sure his money was still secure. It was.

That was good. He wanted to gamble it—the three horse in the
next race was another sure fire winner—but he also wanted to save it for the
last race of the day. That was when Faraway Bay was running. Sure, it would be
nice to put six dollars on the horse he trained instead of one-fifty, but it
was better to put one-fifty than nothing.

Plus he wasn’t sure where Mikey had run off to. Calvin was
pretty certain by this point that he’d been played. Emily wasn’t here, at least
that he’d seen. And that is if her name was even Emily at all and not one of
Mikey’s inventions. 

What he couldn’t decide, however, was if he was disappointed
or relieved. He didn’t know what he would have said to Emily if given the
chance.

It didn’t matter though. Mary and Emily hadn’t shown up but
it was still a good day. Calvin hadn’t even brought it up to Mikey, just
letting the kid enjoy himself. Mikey had been disappearing all day, playing
with his friends or just running loose.

Of course, that wasn’t without its own concerns. Calvin half
expected an officer to storm up to him at any moment to see if he was in charge
of the little hellion.

“
The horses are at the gate!”
 the announcer
called, his voice enormous over the din of the crowd. A hush fell over the
crowd and Calvin leaned against the gate. “
And…away they go!”

The bell tolled and hooves thundered. Dust hung lazily in
the air from the stampede and the crowd erupted in cheers and jeers. Calvin wasn’t
much for shouting, but rather preferred to mutter: “Come on three, come on…” to
himself, a litany against ill-fate.

For the next two minutes time seemed to slow as adrenaline
coursed through his veins.

The announcer roared overhead, rattling off names at an
auctioneers pace and never once stopping for a breath.

The four held the lead.

The two took over, putting six lengths between him and the
pack.

“…and as they round the backstretch…”

The crowd was louder now, seemingly a thousand voices crying
in unison.

Calvin held his breath. He couldn’t see across the track but
his mind’s eye was playing out the titanic struggle the announcer was
describing in perfect clarity.

The three caught up to the frontrunners.

“…they’re rounding the turn into the homestretch with
Misty’s Jumper and Crossing Eden neck and neck…”

“Come on Jumper,” Calvin shouted. His voice was tinny
against the din, but he didn’t mind. The horses reappeared in his line of
vision, hooves flying in a blur. He had to lean far over the fence to see
past the others. “Come on Misty’s Jumper!”