Daybreak in New Orleans - Part 2

Original article written by The Steward posted 14 years 3 weeks ago

“Are you serious?” Kyasuriin Matsumoto groaned, leaning back in her desk chair and pushing her brown hair out of her eyes. Her computer screen displayed Friday’s New Orleans Park entries. Specifically, she was examining Race 9, the Steward’s Cup Juvenile Sprint. Her handsome black two-year-old, Silent Stormer, had drawn post-position eight. Directly to their outside, in post nine, came Sky of Rain.

Art Vandalay, Kya’s close friend and fiercest rival, trained Sky of Rain. Silent Stormer had a fancier looking record – undefeated in five starts – but had never contested a graded stakes race before. Sky of Rain was coming off a Grade 3 win in California.

To make matters worse, the two friends were stabled on opposite sides of the barn, so that their horses' stalls backed up to each other. Even now, walking down to Silent Stormer’s stall, Kya could hear Art whistling happily as he rolled leg wraps for his only Steward’s Cup starter.

“We’d better get out there before the track closes for break,” Kyasuriin murmured to Silent Stormer, who essentially ignored her as she tightened his girth. After convincing the colt to accept the bit, the pair stepped out into the shed row.

“Oh, hey, are you heading out now?” Art asked, ducking his head around the corner. “My colt is tacked, I just need to give him a turn or two. Give me a second?”

Kya rolled her eyes inwardly, but smiled at her friend and led her colt forward for a lap around the shedrow. Five minutes later, the pair walked towards the track, looping behind the barns and along the outer rail of the racetrack to get to the gap. Art and Sky of Rain led the way, which caused Kya to frown when she considered the implications.

They stepped through the gap, and Kya urged Silent Stormer forward. “Hold on Art, I want him to stand on the left,” she said, positioning her colt further down the rail, past the observation platform. Behind her colt’s neck, Kya grinned mischievously. When the colts turned to walk the wrong way a few minutes later, Silent Stormer was in front.

**

“Oooh, ooooh! The London rain! “ Alysse Jacobs sang loudly, belting out every word as she raked the shedrow outside of Boldness’s stall. “You can’t run from the truth, ah ooohhh ohhhh, the London rain!”

Nearby, Lisa Strummer pressed her thumb and index finger against the bridge of her nose, trying to stop the headache that was already forming at only eight in the morning. Lisa didn’t know London Rain, but she had known Matt Nathanson’s “Come On Get Higher,” which had been Alysse’s 7:30 song of choice.

Lisa ducked into Attire’s stall, and felt bad about disturbing the stocky bay filly’s snooze in the corner. Attire raised her head in mild alarm, saw Lisa, and went back to dozing against the wall. Lisa wrapped her arms around the filly’s warm neck, and pressed one ear against her muscular shoulder. Alysse’s singing – now moved on to Tyler Kyte’s Unraveling – was merely muffled, not muted.

Attire twisted her head back against the wall tie and tried to touch her nose to Lisa’s palm. Lisa smiled. “Ready to go out, girl?” Attire didn’t answer, but Lisa imagined she said yes, and she led the filly by the halter to the front of the stall, where her bridle hung on a hook outside the door.

Suddenly, Alysse’s singing faded, and Lisa realized that the younger trainer had led Boldness out to the track. Lisa paused at the stall, and then grinned. “Let’s just take a couple laps around the shed and enjoy the silence,” she said to Attire, who looked agreeable.

After ten minutes, Lisa led Attire out to the track underneath her regular rider, Cesar Lucero. The trio got halfway there before Alysse came bounding up, holding a cupcake in her hand. Lisa paused, surprised.

“I got this for you!” Alysse said, her eyes sparkling. “I already ate one, and I’m trying to diet, really, so I only had one. So this one is for you!”

“Wow, thanks!” Lisa grinned. “That’s really nice of you!”

Alysse handed the cupcake over, and Lisa reached for it, but Attire was fastest. In an instant, the filly had shoved her muzzle into the icing. “Awwww!” Lisa moaned, as Alysse gasped, “Aaahhh!!!” in horror. Attire looked pleased, and Cesar just laughed.

“No cupcakes for you until after you win!” Lisa chastised the filly, then bit into the smashed pastry. It still tasted wonderful.

**

The three friends shared a barn.

They shared a hotel room, too, to save on costs.

They went out to breakfast after morning training every day, and grabbed dinner before bed.

They laughed as they tacked up their fillies for turf training at 9:30 am each morning. They took turns washing the leg wraps and saddle towels, and split gas costs.

But as the three of them headed towards the track right before 10 am, they were silent, and ignored each other’s existence.

Anna Leroux led the way, her leggy dark filly Black Heart walking steadily by her side. Black Heart had a soft, pointed muzzle, and her wide eyes took in everything, including the line of horses circling outside the gap, waiting for the turf course to open.

Ashley Gibson came next, leading her bright-eyed chestnut filly Carmen Sandiego. “Carmen” crab stepped and then jumped sideways, startled when Ramey Furney’s undefeated colt Wise and Worthy spooked at a paper bag blowing across the horse path. “Can someone get that?” Ashley hollered.

Mike Eaton, who had been standing by, watching his horse Giant Condor circling, jumped between horses to grab the offending piece of trash.

Steph Lonhro trailed the group, her tiny filly Helen Keller looking diminutive against her two taller rivals. The sun glittered off of the red highlights in Steph’s hair, and the friendly woman smiled and waved at the other trainers gathered, waiting for the turf course to open.

“What’s taking so long?” Ashley demanded loudly over the rail as Carmen Sandiego skittered at the end of the shank.

Emily Shields, sitting atop her pony on the racetrack, glared over her shoulder. Ashley fell silent momentarily, just in time for Keith Maidlow to come off the track leading Onawhitehorse, a massive gray colt who was lathered along his neck and between his hind legs. Keith looked slightly winded from walking in the deep track surface.

“About time,” Ashley snapped. Carmen had finally stopped bouncing and was eyeing the handsome, rugged gray colt. “Knock it off,” Ashley added, “that’s a dirt horse.”

Steph, on the other hand, smiled brightly at Keith. “Hi!” she said cheerfully.

Keith dared to turn his head and smile back, and Onawhitehorse crowded his trainer, knocking Keith with his shoulder. Keith staggered and jerked hard on the colt’s shank.

“Alright, people, don’t stampede,” Emily warned, swinging open the gate to the turf course and backing her pony.

Carmen Sandiego burst through the gap and headed toward the gate. Anna frowned and released Black Heart to follow her. Steph stayed behind with Helen Keller, chatting with Jamie Newton and Brianna McKenzie. When the pretty bay tugged at the bit, her eyes on the nine other horses galloping across the grass, Steph turned her loose, and Helen Keller started her morning exercise.

When the first set of turf gallops were completed, the three friends led their fillies back to the barn, where they would bathe them together, and cool them out together. Then they would go out to lunch and enjoy a day at the races.

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