Bloodless Day

Coming To

I stood in front of my closet, hand hovering over my usual ensemble- black shirt, black jeans (ripped at the thighs, not by the factory), and my black converse, hesitating. A war raged inside of me, and I knew which side had to win. Now it was up to me to rework it in my mind so that the enemy takeover was not so painful.
Tucked into my dresser drawer was a pair of lighter jeans, softer than my black ones but decidedly not black, the traditional mourning color.
I closed my eyes. Most people spend a week or a month mourning. This is... day 426.
I opened them. The clothes were not the problem. The mourning was. I sat on my bed, head cradled in my hands, rearranging everything I'd come to terms with.
Why was I mourning? To remember Her lack of life? To say, "I feel sorry, so I'm going to permanently change my disposition to prove that I was affected by Her death?"
That suddenly seemed silly to me. I lifted my head and let my hands drop to the bedcovers, tousled and uneven underneath me.
My old room had been repainted darkly after It happened. Mom refused to let me paint it black, so I'd gone with the darkest shade of brown Home Depot had offered. Black and purple curtains had been hung in that room, and though I'd brought them with me, I hadn't had the chance to rehang them. So my current room was white, impersonal, except for the lamp She'd stolen once that chilled out, unplugged, on my new desk, a cheap IKEA model.
It was a new beginning. And now that I thought back, I'd been an idiot for redoing my cheerfully blue room into Hades's lair. What was that supposed to do? She didn't know how badly I was hurting, how Her absence was a constant ache. She didn't know- probably wouldn't even care- and what did it even matter if She knew? It wouldn't make Her feel better. And that's all I really should have been caring about, Her hurt. Not mine. Feeling suddenly selfish in hindsight, I stood and stepped across the room, plunging my hand into the dresser drawer and yanking my jeans out.
They'd gotten a little big, or I'd gotten a little smaller, I realized as I pulled them on. Resolving this with a belt stolen from my dad's closet, I rummaged in the dresser again for socks.
Next to the dresser knocked a pair of Justins- round, comfy western boots with a light green lining. Green, my favorite color. Since Hers was purple, people had constantly teased us about being the 'Barney Twins'. But the boots were the source of my consternation. Last night Mom had insisted on taking me to get a pair after she'd caught sight of the purple, hoof-shaped mark Jersey Boy (my Derby hopeful) had so generously given me. My black jeans shoved uncomfortably in them, their flair too thick to be comfortable rolled inside of the boots but not wide enough to fit on the outsides. My other pairs were not much better.
Yet, there was a feeling of relief as I pulled on my boots over my narrower light jeans, as though black was a much heavier color to wear. I even almost reached for a light grey shirt, then paused.
"No, I'm not ready for that yet."
So I went to school in a black shirt and without breakfast, but Mom had smiled and made a singular exclamation and the teacher that waited outside of the school gate shot me a surprised glance as I walked through.
Thank God it was Friday.
*****
Lilac wasn't in second hour, and I didn't have another class with her until sixth, which was the last hour of the day. So I didn't know if she was in school until I'd already installed myself into my seat, resigned to the joyous spitballs of boys that knew the weekend was fifty five minutes away.
When Lilac flounced into class exactly two minutes early, she checked herself sharply and gazed at me. "Anna!" She exclaimed. "Who's wedding is it?"
"Yours, though I'm not sure if it's still on." I returned, eyebrow lifted at her blue shirt.
"Oh, I ordered Ned pizza since I had to borrow his truck. The man's bound for life." She tossed her hair, then with a bounce, slid into the seat next to me just as the bell rang.
"Truck? Why?"
"Mine broke down. It's why I was late. You didn't get my text?"
I fished my phone out of my pocket and pressed the 'on' button. Nothing happened. Frowning, I pressed and held the button, and the screen flickered to life. "I didn't have it on, I guess."
"And you didn't notice? How you get through school without dying of boredom is beyond me. And western boots? Really?"
"More comfortable than English, and I'm not riding, so it doesn't matter."
"We'll see about that."
Class breezed through and finally we were out the door, in the truck- Ned's was a dark blue, sleek and immaculately clean but decidedly older. I'd settled into our daily ritual pretty quickly- the drive, Lilac's chattering, provoking Skip, swinging into the farm with its yet-to-be-translated Latin motto, greeting Ned (I snagged a pizza slice from him) and setting off to care for the horses. In addition to Shamrock, Jersey, Holly and Lucifer (who lived up to his name), I'd been assigned a broodmare.
She wasn't racing, and since she was on stall watch and getting plenty large, I didn't need to groom her every day- every other one was okay- but I still liked spending time with her. Her name was My Best Boy, and Jersey Boy was her second to last colt. The one she had now would be Jersey Boy's full brother.
She nickered as I entered her stall, scratching her lightly on the forehead. "Hey, pretty girl," I murmured softly, slipping the halter over her petite muzzle. "Ready to have your baby soon? I really want to meet him."
My Best Boy- who I'd started calling Mia- tossed her head as I led her out of the stall, heading towards the grass square that separated the shedrows from the track. It was good for her to get out and stretch her legs and graze for a bit, so I let her and brought a dandy brush with me, brushing her down as she cropped contentedly at the grass.
The track was very nearly empty, except for a single rider trotting past the gate, the trainer leaning against it. I watched them for a bit, stepping over occasionally as Mia wandered around searching for the best bits of grass- there weren't many, given the fact it was January- wondering how the races were going to go down in the weeks to come. I hadn't seen any of my charges under saddle yet, though I'd gone online and looked up Jersey's races, only finding photos of him in the winners circle- there were quite a few of those. Shamrock had had one race posted, but the camera had been entirely trained on one scandalous stallion in the back that kept bucking. It had been funny, but now impatience crept over me like an itch in an unreachable spot. I wanted to see my horses run.
A deep, throaty sound drew my attention away from the horse and towards the two-year-old row. Mia's attention had been caught as well, so both of us looked over.
Bloodless Day gazed back at us, his funny forelock poofing over his forehead, ears pricked and neck arched. He made the funny sound again- a sort of cross between a nicker and a groan. I stared at him.
"What do you want?"
He whickered and bobbed his head, then whirled back, melting into the shadows of his stall. A loud sound, as though he smashed his hoof into the solid wall behind him, crashed through the air.
Unpleasant taste in my mouth, I returned Mia to her shedrow, where she lay down and contentedly began nibbling at the hay spread out. I smiled; it was as though the baby was too heavy for her to carry.
"She's ready to pop soon."
I gasped and whirled around, spooking Mia to her feet. She thrust her head over the stall door, staring at Willifred, the head trainer, even as I did.
He was a pretty well-built guy, about forty with western boots like mine and jeans and a cowboy hat. I hadn't really talked to him yet, but knew him from when he was summoned to Tact's side after Bloodless Day's attack. Now he had a patient grin on his face. "Sorry for startling you. I thought you heard me approach."
"Well, Mia didn't either, so I think you're too quiet."
His grin widened. "Ah, so I'm at fault. You're the new groom? Lilac's friend?"
Affirmative.
"Have you seen your charges run yet?"
Negative.
"We're working Shamrock, Holly, and the Derby horse tomorrow, if you want to see them. Five am sharp."
"Why so early?" I asked as Mia bumped my shoulder. I reached out and scratched her forehead obligingly.
"Before they eat. If you run them too soon after breakfast they could colic."
"That's the stomach ache thing, right? Because horses can't throw up?"
Willifred's grin grew. "You've been doing your research! And yes."
"Are you breezing them?" I ventured, growing bolder because, yes, I had been doing my research.
"Only Jersey Boy. Want to keep him fresh, but also want to remind him that he's capable of something faster than the pluggish canter he's been giving his exercise rider lately. Going to pop the jockey on and rate him against a different horse, to wake him up."
My thought process scrabbled to keep up with this- I'd only done so much research- but was pretty proud to discover that I could get the general gist of what he was talking about. "That makes sense. I'll be excited to see them tomorrow. Thanks."
*****
"This might help."
Lilac shoved something warm into my hands, and my fingers instinctively curled around it. It took a moment before I realized that it was a mug. Pausing only to yawn, not to think, I lifted the slightly warm and definitely steaming drink to my lips, taking several sips before I recognized the flavor.
"Tea, really? What happened to good ol' coffee?"
Lilac shrugged and lifted hers to her face as well. "It's much more fattening than tea, and if I want to be a jockey, I can't afford that. Besides, too bitter."
I'd never considered that she'd wanted to be a jockey before, and was too tired to contemplate that now. The last time I'd woken up this early was 427 days ago, and I couldn't swallow the unease that felt acrid as the tea on my tongue. But that was silly. No one was dying today.
I wasn't even sure today had started yet. The sun was still hiding, and the mist had taken a protective hold of the farm, casting an ethereal blue glow across it. Silent as magic, a horse danced through the mist, head tossing, grey and beautiful as a jockey held her back.
"Go." Next to us, leaning comfortably against the rail with a stopwatch nestled in his palm, Willifred raised his voice towards the jockey.
The jockey obeyed, and the horse leaped forwards, bounding into the mist that so gleefully swallowed her.
"What's her name?" I asked.
"Silent as Magic."
I smiled.
Lilac noticed. "Enjoying early mornings? Better get used to them."
The sky was gradually lightening now, but when I'd arrived earlier, stars had been the prominent feature. Half-asleep, I'd somehow managed to knock the dust off of Shamrock and Holiday, and another groom had laughingly taken the task of grooming Jersey Boy for me after he'd seen how exhausted I was.
"Ah, I may have to rethink this job. Sleeping in looks much better on me."
Lilac snickered. "Yeah right. I've seen you with Shamrock and Mia. You're head over heels."
She wasn't wrong. I was.
"Speaking of head over heels..." Willifred muttered, drawing our attention over to the gate, where two grooms were struggling to keep a horse on all four hooves. He tossed his head, dark and gleaming and supple as shadows, the jockey sawing at the bit, possibly cursing up a storm. Lilac and I watched for a moment.
"Bloodless Day." I murmured, and though I hadn't asked a question, Willifred answered.
"Possibly the most talented horse on the farm. Definitely the most difficult. If we got him to calm down a bit, he would do brilliantly."
"We've even tried Mare Magic." Lilac grinned. At my puzzled look, she added, "it's a sort of hormone control. Our next option is to geld him, but Dad doesn't want to do it, seeing as he's the first, only, and last horse of his crossing."
"Surrender and DoomsDay." I said, because I had done my research, especially after yesterday. Something about the way Bloodless Day skittered across the track was lupine and graceful. He was a wolf, he was a stag, he was living water captured in a horse's body, he was a storm.
"Mmhm."
Silent as Magic passed Bloodless Day, and then passed the finish pole, and Willifred snapped at the stopwatch. "He wasn't even pushing her." He growled. "That's it for this jockey, he's too tentative. I'm putting Boar on him tomorrow. Unless you want the ride."
Me?!
But of course he meant Lilac.
"I'd love to!" She gushed. "Would you push Skip back a bit so I could manage both of them?"
Willifred thought for a moment. "That will work." He decided. "Anna? Do you ride?"
"No. Haven't for a long time."
He studied me briefly before turning his attention back to Bloodless Day, shoulders slumping as the horse continued to fight the bit. Finally the jockey let the horse have his head and he exploded, leaping into the air and arching his back, landing, gathering, and throwing himself up again, twisting at a sickening angle before hitting the ground. He shot out from beneath the jockey, who hit the ground with a rather unfortunate thump. As though he expected this- maybe he did- Willifred clicked his stopwatch before ducking under the rail and jogging over to the jockey. Lilac followed suit and I, after hesitating, did so as well.
"You okay, Jack?" Lilac called. The dark lump that was the jockey stirred briefly before scrambling to his feet, grabbing at Willifred's shoulder to gain balance.
"I've had worse, but I've had better." He admitted. I studied the jockey closely. With a shock of dark hair and light brown eyes with a grin equally as light, he was nearly exactly my height, maybe an inch taller, which was depressing because I'd always hoped to be tall, at least as tall as Mom, and didn't even reach jockey height. He met my gaze with a smirk, and I paused in surprise.
"You're young!"
"Gotta be, the old aren't stupid enough to ride the horses he does." Willifred said gruffly, but a smile tainted his voice. Just then, Bloodless Day tore out of the mist and pounded towards us, stirrups flapping and reins flying, but he swerved at the last minute and continued racing down the track. Willifred halfheartedly hit his stopwatch and showed the time to Jack and Lilac.
"How fast was he?" I asked curiously.
"Fast." Lilac said glumly.
"Nearly halved Magic's time." Willifred added.
"Too bad we can't race him like the greyhounds." Jack piped in, but the conflicted longing on his face bypassed his teasing words.
We fell silent for a moment, and then another moment. The clipping sound of hooves on the cobblestone leading into the track startled us out of our thoughts as a jockey pulled his mount- Shamrock!- to a halt outside of the gate. He pointed at the track with his crop.
"No, he's still loose." Willifred called, and I realized exactly how common if an occurrence this was. Shamrock mouthed the bit but stood quietly enough as she waited for someone to capture Bloodless Day so she could get in her workout.
Soon enough, the lithe stallion came loping back up the track, head lowered and snorting into the chilly air, his frozen breath making him look as though he was the maker of all this mist. Though his sides weren't heaving and he didn't look tired, his only reaction when the grooms caught him was to toss his head and lift his hooves a little bit off the ground before settling into a walk, albeit a fast one that dragged the grooms with him.
"He's not entirely hopeless." I whispered to Lilac.
"Say that again when you're on the receiving end of his hooves."
Remembering the way he struck the barn yesterday, I winced.
After that episode, Shamrock was a true pleasure to watch. She stepped onto the track with neat, even footfalls, snorting and bobbing her head but otherwise quiet. The jockey pushed her into a trot going counter clockwise up the track, and as Shamrock was warmed up, more horses spilled onto the track, including Lucifer who was mean but not evil like Bloodless Day. He reached over to bite the groom that led him but gave up as the jockey smacked his shoulder with the crop and trotted willingly enough after Shamrock.
"Wouldn't it be fun to be out there?" Lilac asked me dreamily.
I eyed the horses as they swept by, their jockeys floating above their backs. "I guess so. But it's probably harder than it looks."
"I'll say." Jack said dryly from besides me. I jumped. I'd forgotten he was there.
Willifred scowled in his direction, but not meanly. "Don't you have other horses to ride?"
Jack tipped his hat at the trainer and disappeared, just as Shamrock turned around and was let into a gallop. She flattened her pace and lowered her head, fast, smooth and steady, and though I could tell she was moving nearly as fast as Skip did, there wasn't a special spark to her run. She was good, but not great. I watched her intently, but my thoughts kept drifting to the dark bay stallion that was most certainly pacing his stall, shivering with a power everyone was too scared to unlock.
The thought jolted me away from the railing. Was everyone scared of this horse? He'd proven himself to be terrifying, yes, but had he ever known to not be treated with terror? Maybe he'd decided to give everyone a reason to fear him.
I ran my mind through the possibility of this, only half-heartedly watching the rest of Shamrock's run, and then Jersey Boy and Holiday's workouts. Lilac must have sensed my distraction, because she nudged me as she walked away from the railing. "Come on. We have a few stalls to muck out, and then I have something fun planned for after lunch."
A few stalls turned out to be the whole two year old shedrow. My arms ached as we finished off the last stall, including Bloodless Day's, because he was in the paddock instead, tearing around and screaming his dominance.
"Here we go!" Lilac said cheerfully, swinging into the lounge attached to the broodmare's barn. Two jockeys chattered quietly in the corner of the well-furnished place, but Lilac ignored them and smashed into the couch instead, where Ned already sat, waiting for us. Cuddling up to him, she snatched a slice of pizza from a steaming box on the coffee table. I sat in the loveseat across the table, picking at my slice, not too hungry but enjoying the AC in the lounge anyways. It was a converted tack room from a very fancy english trotting pony barn established in a time where women wore gloves and ponies were glossy and hitched to wagons. Now, though, there was dust on the mahogany tables and Horse Illustrated magazines scattered in haphazard places.
Ned grinned at me. "Ready for the afternoon?"
"Maybe... if I knew what we were doing."
"You didn't tell her!" Lilac laughed as Ned turned to her, shocked.
"No, but I will now. We're going on a trail ride."
"A trail..." I remembered the times She and I had derped around the backfields of the barn with a few other friends that we'd never spoken to again after that lovely summer. My pony had bucked me off twice, but She'd shown an aptitude for riding and never slipped from the saddle. "Who would I ride?" I hoped it was Shamrock.
"Probably one of the pony horses. They're older, usually retired Thoroughbreds, horses that we keep around to calm down the younger ones. I think you'll like the one we picked. His name's Granite. I'm on Skip, though, and Ned's riding Magic. We condition them on the trail rides."
I nodded, a little disappointed that I wasn't going to be riding one of the beautiful racehorses I took care of, but then an image of Jack hitting the ground, of Bloodless Day, bolting, flitted across my mind. Maybe it was for the best.
*****
Granite stood patiently as I fumbled with the girth. Lilac stood next to me, Skip's handsome head hanging over her shoulder, encouraging me. "You have it! Just pull the strap! There. Now check your stirrup length. Do you remember how to measure it?"
"I think I have to.. er, it goes down to my elbow?" Mind flashing back to my eight year old self, before I knew what death was, before I cared about the future, before... before before... I remembered how the instructor would say, in his awkward Colombian accent, "Stirrups down to the armpit!"
"I mean armpit." I amended sheepishly, ignoring Lilac's grin as I finish adjusting my stirrups.
Granite was a gorgeous horse, tall as a lie and solid as an alibi. Reaching out carefully, I traced my hand down the only thing marring his pure white coat- a splotchy brown marking on his shoulder. "What's this?"
"Bloody shoulder. It's a pretty rare marking." Lilac informed me.
"Cool." I whispered. Granite tried nipping me as I tightened the girth under my friend's- for surely she was a friend now- watchful eye.
"Alright. That's tight enough. You have your helmet? Good. Are those boots a good fit?"
"Half a size too big." I reported. The tall English boots were definitely not as comfortable as my Justins, but they looked a lot nicer and would protect my leg better from the English saddle. Lilac nodded in a well, what can you do? way and turned Skip to the outside of the barn. Ned led Magic at a careful distance, given she was a mare and Skip a stallion, and after a moment's hesitation I followed with Granite.
Someone was waiting with a leg up, and in no time I was back in the saddle after an eight, nearly nine year hiatus. It was awkward at first, but I remembered what I looked up last night. Heels down, straight line from elbow to bit, and head up.
"Very nice position." Ned complimented me.
I was learning.

~~~~
So! Riding! Racing! It's all very exciting, isn't it?
I'm learning a great deal for this book as well- where the racetracks are, precedents for training horses- and leaning quite a bit on what I learned from the Thoroughbred series. Let's hope that they're rather accurate books, shall we?
What is your extent to knowledge involving horses?
I know I'm updating very quickly. This book is so exciting, though, and the plot fell so neatly into place, unlike TOSOTF. Plus, Thoroughbreds are such characters, there's always interesting people at the track, and I do enjoy the many subplots running through Anna's story. It's quite a refreshing change and I'm learning a lot, not just about horses, but about my writing skills and growth as a writer.
Anyways, happy trails!
~Iggy