Race (6 page)

"Hi Noah!" Jacob said in a business like way, his voice a little too enthusiastic, and it had a sarcastic edge to it. "I think the amount of times you've rode a horse is so great that no other animal could compete with it." They shook hands. Since Jacob Hoover was complimenting Noah, it was clear that he wanted something.

"That's not the only animal I've rode with. There's also you on that list," Noah said, pretending for it to be a joke all though he actually meant it. But Jacob did see it as a joke, and he roared with laughter.

"That's a good one. That's a good joke," Jacob grinned.

"OK, let's talk about work," Noah said seriously. "Why are you here now? What is it that you want?"

"I heard that the stud farm is mortgaged by the bank and all that crap." Jacob said vaguely. "If you like, I can stop that happening for you. In exchange for clearing the bank settlement I'm willing to give you ten million dollars, if you sell this stud farm to me."

Noah laughed at Jacob as if he was stupid. "Did you know what  I've heard? Those people who have small brains are the people that talk too much." He picked up a damp cloth and pat it on his face, which was sweating after the tough racing practice..

"I don't understand." Jacob frowned. "
Those people who have small brains are the people that talk too much.
What do you mean by that?"

"That's the thing, Jacob. You don't understand. These horses, this stud farm ... they all gallop in my home. Racing is my passion, my life. Stallion's is something I love, something that's in my blood It's not for sale, no matter what you offer. I will never sell it."

Jacob frowned.

Then, Leonardo bounded up to Noah.

"Sir, here are the papers," he said.

"Can I borrow your pen please?" Noah asked Jacob, and then snatched it from Jacob's pocket without asking. He signed the papers and then put the pen in the inside of his own jacket pocket.

"Excuse me, that's my pen!" Jacob Hoover said pointedly.

"Oh, sorry," Noah said vaguely, and then, deliberately, he handed over a different pen that was in his pocket.

"Thank you," Jacob said, because he loved that pen: it was very expensive, and was in fact one of his most prized possessions. However he had not realized that it wasn't his pen. He put it in his pocket absent mindedly. "My offer is still open, you know. You might want to re think your decision."

"Jacob, I always think before I make a decision. I don't make a decision and then think about it. Bye," Noah said flatly, in a firm tone.

"Bye bye," Jacob Hoover shrugged, speaking in that ridiculously deep accent of his, and then turned around to leave.

"Can I have the signed papers back, please, Sir?" Leonardo asked Noah. "I need to hand them back in to the Stallion's office head quarters."

"No," said Noah, and he tore the pieces of paper into shreds.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE NEXT RACE

"Sir," said Jacob Hoover's friend, Ahmed, as they both sat at the stands of the stud farm. "The sixth horse is a personal favorite. It's rank is very good."

"And the others?" Jacob asked.

"Those horses ranks aren't as good as number six." Ahmed said proudly.

"What about number twelve?" Jacob pushed on.

"What?" Ahmed looked confused. He pulled his furrowed eyebrows together, wrinkling his nose.

"I'm talking about Noah's horse," Jacob Hoover prompted.

"Noah's horse is new. I think it has a ten to one chance." Ahmed felt guilty as he said this.

"Ten to one?" Jacob repeated angrily.

Noah's pen was still in Jacob's pocket, and it had a recorder on it. Noah was sat at the other side of the room, listening to Jacob's every word.

"You do one job," Jacob said to Ahmed. "Bet every last cent of the money on Noah's horse."

"But Sir, that's a twenty million dollar risk!" Ahmed stared at Jacob as if he was stupid.

"Just do as I say," Jacob said. "Noah's style of horse is something that I can compete with. Even if Noah's horse is good, I'm going to make sure he doesn't win. I have my own ways of doing things."

"You mean that if Noah's horse wins, we will get the money from it?" Ahmed asked happily.

"You're right," Jacob confirmed.

"Good idea, Sir!" Ahmed exclaimed.

"Thank you!" Jacob grinned, and Ahmed departed.

Noah sighed as he heard all this, angry at Jacob Hoover, wondering why he couldn't just be a good sportsman. He turned to Alice. Today, Alice was wearing a silky green top with green jeggings to match.

"Alice, don't put my four million bet on my horse," he ordered.

"Why won't we bet money on our own horse?" Alice asked, because what Noah had just said was completely random.

"Please, just do as I say," Noah said. Alice nodded after staring at Noah for a long moment, unsure what was going on.

"Horse number twelve by Noah, horse number six ..." the commentator dictated his speech into the microphone. "All of the horses, gather round to the track!"

Noah and Alice watched at the sidelines with their binoculars. Jacob and Noah's eyes met for a moment, but Noah averted his eyes and focused on watching the race. Jacob laughed darkly, thinking he had it all thought out and planned. But not everything you think of always goes to plan.

The horses continued to race. The horses began at a steady pace ... they gradually got faster ... some of the horses slowed down, others went a little faster ... then number six and twelve were almost neck and neck ... but number twelve stayed behind ... and horse number six raced through to the finish line.

"What?" Jacob Hoover roared in anger. "Bloody ... What the hell just happened?!"

"Sir, we bet so much money on that horse! We're going to lose it all!" Ahmed piped up, worried. Tears actually began to build up in his eyes.

"Oh God ..." Jacob Hoover cried. Then, lots of men and women started crowding around him, hugging and congratulating him because his horse had got through to the finish line, and they didn't know the slightest thing about what was going on. "Please, leave me alone! Leave me alone!" Jacob shouted, unable to control his anger and frustration.

Alice, Noah and other clients at Stallion's all stared at Jacob Hoover, wondering why he was getting all worked up, and it was only Noah who knew the real truth as he had been listening to Jacob's conversation with Ahmed through the recording pen. Noah walked up to Jacob and took the pen out of his pocket, holding it up for Jacob to see the microphone on the other end. "This is my pen," Noah stated.

Noah was practising his racing on the tracks of his stud farm, as fast as he could, whilst Leonardo timed him. When he finally reached the finish line, Leonardo waddled up to him in his cowboy boots. "Exactly two minutes and seven seconds, sir," Leonardo stated matter of factly.

"And seven seconds," Noah repeated, his voice bitter. "I need to banish those seconds." He paused, and then continued to talk to Leonardo about a different topic. "Anyway, yesterday, I denied signing some of Jacob Hoover's papers. Can you go and discuss it with him?" Someone caught Noah's eye. "Look, he's walking over to us now." Noah indicated Jacob Hoover, who was walking towards them.

"Hi Noah!" Jacob said in a business like way, his voice a little too enthusiastic, and it had a sarcastic edge to it. "I think the amount of times you've rode a horse is so great that no other animal could compete with it." They shook hands. Since Jacob Hoover was complimenting Noah, it was clear that he wanted something.

"That's not the only animal I've rode with. There's also you on that list," Noah said, pretending for it to be a joke all though he actually meant it. But Jacob did see it as a joke, and he roared with laughter.

"That's a good one. That's a good joke," Jacob grinned.

"OK, let's talk about work," Noah said seriously. "Why are you here now? What is it that you want?"

"I heard that the stud farm is mortgaged by the bank and all that crap." Jacob said vaguely. "If you like, I can stop that happening for you. In exchange for clearing the bank settlement I'm willing to give you ten million dollars, if you sell this stud farm to me."

Noah laughed at Jacob as if he was stupid. "Did you know what  I've heard? Those people who have small brains are the people that talk too much." He picked up a damp cloth and pat it on his face, which was sweating after the tough racing practice..

"I don't understand." Jacob frowned. "Those people who have small brains are the people that talk too much. What do you mean by that?"

"That's the thing, Jacob. You don't understand. These horses, this stud farm ... they all gallop in my home. Racing is my passion, my life. Stallion's is something I love, something that's in my blood It's not for sale, no matter what you offer. I will never sell it."

Jacob frowned.

Then, Leonardo bounded up to Noah.

"Sir, here are the papers," he said.

"Can I borrow your pen please?" Noah asked Jacob, and then snatched it from Jacob's pocket without asking. He signed the papers and then put the pen in the inside of his own jacket pocket.

"Excuse me, that's my pen!" Jacob Hoover said pointedly.

"Oh, sorry," Noah said vaguely, and then, deliberately, he handed over a different pen that was in his pocket.

"Thank you," Jacob said, because he loved that pen: it was very expensive, and was in fact one of his most prized possessions. However he had not realized that it wasn't his pen. He put it in his pocket absent mindedly. "My offer is still open, you know. You might want to re think your decision."

"Jacob, I always think before I make a decision. I don't make a decision and then think about it. Bye," Noah said flatly, in a firm tone.

"Bye bye," Jacob Hoover shrugged, speaking in that ridiculously deep accent of his, and then turned around to leave.

"Can I have the signed papers back, please, Sir?" Leonardo asked Noah. "I need to hand them back in to the Stallion's office head quarters."

"No," said Noah, and he tore the pieces of paper into shreds.

"Microphone?" Jacob cried, unable to believe what he was seeing. He pinched his hand, hard for good measure, and realized that he was not dreaming, or having a nightmare, and it was all actually happening.

"And this is yours," Noah said, taking Jacob's pen out of his own pocket. Jacob grabbed it from him angrily, wondering why he hadn't noticed that the pens were different. "You made your horse go slow deliberately," Noah continued. "I made my own horse go just a bit more slower. That twenty million ... I still hold my statement today that I also celebrate my loss. You'd better be there." Noah patted Jacob's face with a fierce look fixed on his own.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

WISE WORDS

"Noah, if you wanted, by betting extra money on your own horse then you could have won more money," Alice said to Noah as they walked down the stud farm pathway.

"Winning and losing isn't just about the money, Alice," Noah said, matter of factly. "Even if someone takes my life in racing, they're still innocent in my eyes. But anyone who betrays me is never given a second chance."

Alice nodded at Noah's wise words: what he said was definitely something that rung true.

Then they saw Ronan park his car in front of them.  He looked upset, and stepped out of his black beauty with his head bowed down low. Ronan looked extra handsome today despite his upset face: he had a cleanly shaven face, a fresh haircut and was wearing very expensive and posh clothing.