The Black Stallion's Sulky Colt (10 page)

“You don't look so well, Jimmy,” Henry said. “Are you sure you're feelin' okay?”

“I'm fine now,” Jimmy answered.

“Did you tell your doctor you were comin'?”

“No. He wouldn't have let me come, if I had. He's got me down for just one visit to the track this year. I
picked the Hambletonian.” For the first time Jimmy turned to Henry. “Will he be goin' in it, Henry?”

“I think so.”

Jimmy turned back to Bonfire. “That's what I wanted to hear you say. That's why I came. Just to hear that and look at him again. It's been a long time, over two months now. No doctor should mind my having so little as this, and then going right home.”

Henry's face lightened. “What time does your train leave, Jim?” he asked.

“Ten o'clock. A sleeper to Pittsburgh, so I'll get plenty of rest.” Jimmy looked at Alec. “Tom and George told me about you,” he said kindly. “A lot of good things, too.” He let his sick eyes fasten themselves on Bonfire again. “Do you like him?”

“They don't come any better,” Alec answered.

Jimmy's scrawny shoulders came back a little in his pride, and he nodded his head in full agreement with Alec. “Tell me what you've done for him, Henry,” he requested.

Henry shifted uneasily. “He's going well. We're usin' a blind on him, Jim.”

Alec saw the tightness come to Jimmy's face as the little man said in a quivering voice, “I like my colts to go clean. You know that.”

“I do too,” Henry came back quietly. “But sometimes it's necessary to use an aid. We had to here.”

Alec noted the mounting anger in Jimmy's face and said quickly, “It's really a wonderful idea, sir. He wears a hood and we can open and close the eyecup. Look, let me show it to you.” He left the stall without seeing the warning in Henry's eyes.

When Jimmy took the racing hood from Alec, his face was livid. Alec saw the look in Henry's eyes then, and realized he had done wrong in producing the hood for Jimmy's examination.

For a moment Jimmy just held the hood in his trembling hands, looking at it, but saying nothing. His body was shaking too.

Henry came up behind him, speaking softly. He told him what they had done and why. He explained how well the special hood was working and that it would get their colt to the Hambletonian. Wasn't that what Jimmy wanted more than anything else in the world? After the big race the hood could be removed from Bonfire. The colt was regaining his self-confidence quickly. He wouldn't need the hood much longer. It was just a temporary aid. But it was necessary now if they were to race Bonfire. Couldn't Jimmy look at it that way?

Alec knew that Jimmy was doing everything he could to understand and to accept the hood as a temporary aid for Bonfire. His fight to keep from becoming overexcited was evident in his eyes and pitiful to see. Alec understood then why Jimmy's doctor didn't want him to visit the track.

There was silence in the stall long after Henry had finished talking. Even Bonfire was quiet. Finally Jimmy handed back the hood to Alec. “All right, Henry,” he said softly, steadily. “I see why you had to use it.”

Nothing more was said for a while. Jimmy walked slowly around Bonfire, feeling the colt's legs and body, lifting and examining his feet. When he had finished,
he said reluctantly, “I guess that's what I came for. Maybe it would be best if I went now.”

Henry said, “I'll drive you to Mineola. It's only an hour's ride from there to New York.”

“I know,” Jimmy replied. “That's the way I came. But you needn't bother, Henry. I'll get a taxi.”

Henry chuckled easily. “Bother? For an old friend? What are you talkin' about, Jimmy? It'll give us a little more time together. Come on. Alec will take care of the colt. There's nothin' to keep me here.”

Jimmy took a long last look at Bonfire and then left the stall. As Alec watched him go, he felt he understood now why Tom had wanted to do so much for Jimmy Creech. There were few such men left, old-timers who had devoted all their lives to their horses and loved them beyond everything else. In addition, Jimmy was a very sick man.

Alec saw him come to a sudden stop outside the stall, and then Jimmy asked Henry in his high voice, “When you going to start him? He'll need a race before going to Goshen.”

There it was. Alec felt a numbness sweep over him. Henry wouldn't lie to Jimmy. It wasn't in him to lie about anything.

“Soon,” Henry told Jimmy quietly. “Come on, now. We'd better get goin'. We'll have more time together at the station.”

But Jimmy wasn't to be put off. “It's got to be this week. Didn't you put your entry in the box yet?”

Henry nodded his big head.

“Well, when is he going then?”

Henry stopped, and his tortured gaze met Jimmy's. “Tonight,” he said.

“Tonight?”

Henry nodded again.

“What race?” Jimmy asked, and there was mounting excitement in his voice, his eyes, in everything about him.

Alec waited for Henry's reply, and finally it came. “The first race.”

There was no holding Jimmy now. “I can see it then,” he said eagerly. “I can sneak it in without my doctor knowing. It'll still leave me time to catch my train from New York, won't it, Henry?”

“I guess so,” Henry returned grudgingly, “but don't you think it might be wiser if—”

“You talk like my doctor,” Jimmy interrupted, irritation creeping into his voice. “I can just see
you
going home under the same circumstances!” He looked back at the stall and then at Henry again.

“If he's going in the first race, why aren't you warming him up?” Jimmy glanced at his wrist watch. “He should have made a trip by this time.”

“He's not going,” Henry said in a low voice. “He doesn't need any before his race.”

“He doesn't
what
?”

“He doesn't need any trips,” Henry repeated. Then he added, “Now take it easy, Jim, an' let me explain why. I know you've always warmed up your horses, same as you did when we were kids. But this colt don't need that kind of pre-race work. It knocks him out. He's a speed colt. He's not built or bred for all
that work before a race. It tires him out. He'll leave his race on the warm-up track.”

Jimmy made no effort to control himself as he'd done when confronted with the special hood. His voice was shrill as he answered Henry. “
You're
telling
me
about
my
colt!”

Again Henry said, “Now take it easy, Jim. Please. I was just tryin' to explain how—”

Jimmy interrupted, “—how to train my colt, that's what you were trying to do!
You
, who wouldn't have anything to do with my kind of horses!” Jimmy's face was white with rage.

Henry said as quietly as he could, “That was years ago. I don't feel that way now, Jim. I'm tryin' to help.” He paused. “I got a right to tell you what I think about this colt. An' I don't think race day is the time to train him.”

“You got no right to tell me anything if you don't train him the way it's supposed to be done!” Jimmy bellowed.

“If I don't train him the way
it's supposed to be done,
” Henry repeated slowly.

Alec saw the tiny pinpoints of light come to Henry's eyes.
Please, Henry, keep quiet
, he thought.
Let Jimmy do the talking. Remember he's a sick man. You get mad at what he's saying, and you won't do the colt or us any good
.

But Alec's pleading thoughts were of no help, for Henry said bitterly, “Why don't you look at your colt, Jimmy? You can see what I see if you'll just let yourself be reasonable. It's not hard. He's not like the others you've had. He doesn't have to be trained the way
it's supposed to be done
at all.”

“Stop it!” Jimmy's voice shrilled up and down the shed row. Grooms in nearby stalls stopped their work to turn and look at him.

It was many seconds before Jimmy had control of himself, and then his words came pouring out while his pointed Adam's apple rose high in his thin neck. “I've taken all I can from you, Henry! You tell me to look at my colt. You tell me how to train him.
You
, who never even sat behind a fast horse. You're telling
me
. Get out of here. Get out quick before I throw you out!”

He turned to Alec. “You go with him! I don't need
you
, either!”

The blood rushed to Alec's head. He turned toward Henry, but his old friend wasn't looking at him. Instead Henry was walking down the row, his bowlegs moving like a very slow wheel, his big shoulders stooped and beaten.

Tears came to Alec's eyes. He could hardly see Jimmy standing there in front of him. He heard Bonfire moving about to his rear, and then felt the colt's warm breath on the back of his neck. He heard himself say, “I want to stay. I've got to stay.”

Jimmy shouted, “Then you do it my way!” He whirled to watch Henry, who was far down the row.

After many minutes Jimmy turned back to Alec. He was no longer furious but terribly weary. Yet his jaw was set with pure mulishness, and Alec knew there'd be no backing down. He awaited Jimmy's orders. Finally they came.

“Let's hook him up,” Jimmy said. “I want you to jog him a couple of miles. After that we'll turn him and
go a mile in about two minutes ten seconds. No slower. You got a watch?”

“Yes, sir.”

Jimmy looked at Alec and then said more kindly, “Henry's all wrong, you know. With our horses y'got to get them really loosened up before they race. It not only helps their muscles but it gets them to a high racing pitch. They're ready to go then. Any temperament has been taken out of them. They don't do any jumping around. They keep their minds on the business at hand.”

Alec listened, realizing that Jimmy believed everything he said. No one was going to argue him into believing that Bonfire didn't need to follow this set training routine. And Alec didn't find this so strange when he thought of the younger men at Roosevelt Raceway. They did things no differently. They followed the leader, as Henry had said, and here was one of the leaders—Jimmy.

He put the hood on Bonfire while Jimmy got the bridle and harness. As they worked, Alec got up courage to say, “You're sure you want me to go that fast a mile with him on the training track?”

“Sure I do,” Jimmy said stubbornly. “He'll be going faster than that before you're through warming him up. I want the second and third mile trips to be down around two minutes five or six seconds.”

Alec said, “That's almost fast enough to win a Hambletonian.”

“That's what we're aimin' to do next week,” Jimmy answered.

Alec stayed behind as Jimmy led Bonfire from the
stall. With all this scheduled work it was going to be really rough out there tonight. He wondered if Henry would be around to watch the race.

By seven-thirty they had Bonfire in the paddock. Two of the three separate mile warm-ups were behind the blood bay colt. And now, less than an hour before being called to the post, Alec drove him out on the main track for his last warm-up mile.

Alec was as hot as his colt from all the work they'd done in so short a time. He thought he'd never in his life forget Bonfire's second mile. The colt really had had to step along to finish it in the time Jimmy had ordered. This final trip was to be as fast. Under any other circumstances Alec would have been overjoyed at the prospect of another fast ride behind Bonfire. As it was, he couldn't be very happy knowing there was still a race to be run.

It wasn't yet dark but the track lights were on, and the great stands were beginning to fill. There were many horses on the track, all working, and Alec paid attention to them only because of Bonfire's eyecup. He had to be ready to close it any time a horse came up close on their right.

Bonfire tossed his head a little. He was wearing the number 5 on his head now that they were on the main track. It was a raceway rule, just as it was a rule that the drivers be wearing their racing silks at this time. Alec glanced at the sleeves of his red-and-white jacket—Tom's jacket and Jimmy's colors.

Bonfire was eager to go again, for his red coat was very wet; too wet, Henry would have said. Alec looked over at the stands, wondering if Henry was there.

He knew Henry was right about Bonfire. Already the colt had done too much work. Through the lines Alec felt a lack of the sharpness that had been in Bonfire during the last mile.

He turned the colt at the top of the stretch and took him down, giving him full line as they swept past the starting pole. At the same time he pushed down the stem of his watch, starting the sweeping second hand. Henry had always said that he didn't need to carry a watch, that he had one in his head. But Alec didn't want to take any chances at guessing Bonfire's pace just now, with Jimmy demanding another 2:06 mile on the dot: “No slower, no faster.”

Alec felt the sulky seat leap from under him as he asked Bonfire for speed. It seemed more alive than it had the first day he had worked Bonfire for Henry. The seat of the racing sulky was much closer to the colt's hindquarters than that of the training cart, and Alec felt as though he were being carried along on Bonfire's flying heels. He sat on the colt's tail, leaned a little to the side so he could see the track, and went on.

Around the half-mile oval they raced and whipped past the stands again, going into the second lap. Alec glanced at his watch and kept Bonfire down to the same speed. When they had gone three-quarters of a mile he looked at the watch once more, and then let the colt out another notch.

Bonfire quickly responded and came flying off the back turn into the homestretch. All the way down to the finish line he demanded more rein from Alec. But Alec held him in, completing the mile in the time Jimmy had ordered.