THE FLASH
Steven pointed the remote at his television, rewinding footage of a horse racing and watching it repeatedly. He hunkered down in his favorite recliner, toes curling as a jockey and bay filly in North Oak's colors wove between horses on the screen.
He broke from his trance when his wife squeezed his shoulder, lowering a plate of brownies to the end table beside him. "What are you doing?"
He rewound the footage again and played it. "She only got to ride her a few times."
The horse and jockey wove between the pack again.
"Did you see that?" he asked, waving the remote wildly. He rewound the footage, and played it on quarter speed. Frame by frame the horse and rider bounded into a hole that hadn't been there a moment ago, then shot out of it just as quickly. It closed behind them. They overtook the horse in third, then second, and started chewing up the distance between them and the leader stride by stride. Steven grinned. "God, she was good."
"They came out of nowhere."
He stopped the replay just as the two athletes drew abreast with the leader at the finish line. Steven bowed his head and rubbed his temples. His wife stroked his hair. Steven's voice was strained when he spoke. "She was like a flash of light. Blazing. Brilliant. She had so much potential. So much life still ahead of her." His shoulders tensed, then shuddered. "And then God took her away," he choked. "I feel like I've been grasping at straws ever since."
Amber crouched beside him, drawing him close to her over the side of the recliner. She rubbed his back as he let silent tears roll. "At least you still have Venus Galaxies. You and Angie still have a legacy together."
Steven pulled himself together, drawing his wife to a spot beside him in the armchair. She snuggled close. Amber took the remote from him and shut the T.V. off.
He drew a deep breath. "I can't tell you how long I sat beside Alexandra's bed in the hospital staring at her file. I still can't believe who she is."
"Have you sent off the DNA test?"
"I got it back before she woke up."
Amber tangled her fingers in her husband's graying hair gently. "What did it say?"
His eyes lifted to hers. "Angelina was supposed to inherit the farm. Any child she had has a right to North Oak, but when she passed, it shifted into our hands. We can't let that change."
"And you intend to keep the girl here?"
Steven's jaw tensed.
Amber sat up and looked him straight on. "That's a dangerous game, sweetheart."
He shifted uncomfortably, fixing his eyes on the blank television. "I want my family together, but the farm is mine."
"Steven, you can't have the cake and eat it too. It's all going to come out eventually."
Steven got out of the chair, his wife's eyes still boring into him. He grabbed a brownie from the plate she had brought, broke it in two, bit one, and stuffed the other in his wife's mouth.
He braced himself on the arms of the recliner where Amber sat, and chewed, then left a brownie crumb freckled kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight."
Brooke proved an adept tutor for Alex, and aside from saddle upkeep, Alex picked up basics effortlessly. She was surprised how easy it was to her, like breathing. But the work was hard and made her sore and tired.
Alex would get up at dawn to help Brooke with Venus Galaxies, and spent the evenings with Brooke on basic horsemanship: leading horses to and from the paddocks, even teaching Promenade to lead and tie. All the while pretending not to fall in love with it, fighting the detestable urge to stay. She started working with the regular grooms during the day who taught her the finer points of maintaining tack and mucking out stalls.
As she showered one night, being careful not to take too long (just like she had been taught in the foster home), she wondered if this pain was worth it. Then Promenade and the way he looked at her haughtily, his eye whites almost blending in with his blaze, struck her. She pushed the image from her mind, reprimanding herself, Don't get attached.
But then Venus Galaxies charging through the mist invaded her thoughts. The Breeders Cup was only a few days away. I'll go with them. She wasn't sure how far away the race was, but ditching them in a crowd might be a good place for finally breaking away.
I'll help them get the dumb horse ready, but that's it.
As the race got even closer, Alex picked up on the tension and excitement around the farm. With several of North Oak's horses entered during the two-day event, grooms argued whose charge was the best of the lot.
The workers bickered and laughed, regaling each other with legends of great racers past. Alex learned all the stories, and day dreams of riding the fleetest, threatened to sway her forever. She could almost taste the dirt from the track and the sting of air whipping against her face.
Thursday morning Hillary announced she was taking the girls dress shopping for the high-profile event. She even invited Brooke, much to the gratitude of Joe who refused to be knowledgeable of womanly things outside of training fillies.
Laura lit up with delight and gushed on and on about the ensemble she wanted, right down to the stitch in the fabric. Alex couldn't have been less enthused. She abhorred dresses.
The very concept was entirely degrading to her and simply out of fashion. The only time she'd been forced to wear something so obscene was at Easter and Christmas Mass, which she had also never enjoyed-mostly because of the uncomfortable dress. She hoped the experience wouldn't be too terribly painful.
She went along quietly that evening, rolling her eyes at Laura's obsessive over-enthusiasm. Brooke hung back a little as well, but humored Laura more so than Alex.
Alex couldn't tell the difference between all the dresses, besides the price tag. This one was blue. That one was black. The other one was green.
Before money could become an issue, Alex took off to find the least expensive one. She hated being a burden like this, but took it over to Hillary for inspection.
"Did you try it on?" the woman asked Alex.
Alex's shoulders slumped and she groaned, eyes rolling back. "Uuuugghh."
"I would like to see it on the teenage cavegirl, please. No sense in buying if it doesn't fit."
Alex dragged her butt to a changing room and grappled herself into the damn thing, muttering a string of cuss words under her breath as she tried to zip up the dress.
She huffed and stood before the mirror. But did not recognize the girl gazing back.
Alex ran her hand through hair, moving her bangs out of her face. Shadows circled beneath baggy eyelids, and in too-thin cheeks. The nightmares looked like they were catching up with her. Laying awake at night the last few days, trying to avoid the nightmares, was taking its toll.
Alex pulled the dress off her haggard body and put her regular clothes back on. She gave the rumpled dress to Hillary, grunting, "It fits."
The woman smiled with approval and commended Alex on her good taste. Alex had no idea what she was talking about. It was just a dumb, understated, inexpensive dress.
Brooke didn't take long either, picking out something simple and stylish to compliment her long, slender frame. Laura, however, took another hour, gushing over accessories alone. Brooke and Alex sat on a small sofa, staring tiredly at themselves in full-length mirrors.
"This is ridiculous," Alex muttered.
Brooke watched Laura dash about the store and chuckled. "Apparently this behavior is normal and encouraged among girls our age."
"It's ridiculous," Alex repeated. "Can we go now?" she called to Hillary.
Hillary, appearing rather dog-tired herself, pressed Laura to wrap up her endeavors. Suddenly the blonde teenager got an even more maddening glint in her eye and charged through the store. She returned with her ensemble in less than ten minutes.
Hillary summoned the girls to the cash register.
"Why, exactly, couldn't you have done that in the first place?" Alex whispered to Laura.
"You'll understand when you're older."
Alex looked at Brooke who had overheard the reply, and confirmed, with a shake of her chocolate tresses, exactly what Alex suspected.
Alex would never understand this thing called shopping.
Brooke and Alex left North Oak absurdly early for the Breeders Cup to make the morning workouts at Churchill Downs in time. The five-hour drive from Hamlin to Louisville didn't afford them much rest since the girls all rode together with the Showmans and were too excited to sleep. Even Alex had a hard time hiding her true feelings.
Alex and Brooke worked side-by-side, wordlessly. They had arrived at Churchill Downs's track backside to help the horses prepare for the day's races.
Venus Galaxies had just come in from a light jog, and the girls were tending to her. She had already gotten a good bath and been blanketed and was lazily standing as Brooke and Alex wove her silky onyx mane into tight, braided knobs, and banded them. She was starting to look really sharp.
As Alex finished the last few braids the way Brooke had shown her, Brooke stood back to admire their handiwork.
"Angie was very attached to this mare. Venus was her favorite. Angie rode Venus Galaxies's sire, Jet, in the Triple Crown and won. Jet was the last horse to win the Triple Crown for North Oak. It's been more than a decade."
"That's a long time."
Brooke nodded. "Because she was special to Angelina, Mr. North has a lot riding on this filly, especially since it's her last race. North wants to breed her next spring."
"How did she die?"
"Car accident."
Alex was quiet as she bundled up the final braid.
"That's why Venus means so much to him. Because, to Mr. North, Venus Galaxies is really Angelina."
Alex led the filly to her stall and patted her in passing. It was sobering to know what the horse meant to North Oak.
Brooke motioned to the track kitchen, inviting Alex to join her for breakfast.
Alex closed the door to Venus's stall. "See you later, little sister."
During breakfast, Brooke mulled over the racing form and taught Alex how to, too. It was more numbers than words, so Alex didn't have time to be embarrassed about the fact she couldn't read very well. However, numbers weren't exactly a strong point either and soon had her head reeling.
After they wolfed down their food, they went back to the hotel to get some shut eye.
When she got to the room, Alex kicked off her shoes and flopped on the bed, passing out despite Laura's snoring in the bed opposite hers. But sleep did not tread kindly. It brought with it what Alex tried to forget....
Her hand trembling on the gun, a thread of smoke wafting from the barrel. Staring at the lifeless woman who had fallen before her. Who had meant to hurt Alex's friends. The gun tumbling to the floor.
Carrie's words echoed, "Alex what have you done?"
The room spinning. Ashley lying near Carrie's feet. Was there no way out?
Alex had to get away. She'd seen stories on the news and heard what happened to people who committed murder.
The chair. Lethal injection. Death. An eye for an eye.
Alex staggered. I don't want to die.
Early morning light streamed into the window behind her. She dashed for it, threw it open, and leapt.
Alex woke, trembling. The pillows and comforter on the hotel bed were in disarray. Laura was missing from her bed. The shower was running in the bathroom.
Alex raced to the wastebasket in the corner and vomited. She rocked back on her heels and stared up at the bland wallpaper that lent little charm to the room.
She wiped the back of her hand against her mouth, frowning. As if reliving Ashley's death didn't already leave a bitter taste in her mouth! She squeezed her eyes closed tight, mentally retracing her steps in those last few moments that night. The weight of Ashley dead in her arms made her belly boil. She gagged and heaved, but nothing came out. False alarm.
She wished she could purge the memory as easily as her stomach. She wished it had never happened. She punched the wall. She should have gone with her that night. She should have been there to protect her. Would she ever be able to live with herself?
Alex straightened and turned, pounding on the bathroom door. "Are you done in there yet?"
"Almost," Laura answered.
Alex folded her arms and leaned against the wall, waiting. A few minutes passed. "How 'bout now?"
"Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses."
The sink turned on. The door cracked open, and Laura, in a bathrobe with her hair in a towel turban, was brushing her teeth. She hadn't bothered to wipe down the steamy mirrors.
"Honestly, I don't know why it takes you so long," Alex chided.
Laura spat and rinsed and stepped out of the bathroom. "You were making a lot of noise. Everything okay?"
"Fine," Alex muttered, "move."
"Uh-uh." Laura wagged her finger. "Manners, please."
Alex's eyes narrowed. "Get your upper-middle-class butt out of my frickin' way, you prissy blonde bimbo... please."
Laura sighed and moved, allowing Alex into the bathroom. "My room's next to yours at home. I can hear you at night. Want to tell me why you've been having so many nightmares?"
"You know it should only take a person five minutes to shower?" Alex ignored the question.
"And who's Ashley?"
Alex gritted her teeth. "How do you know that name?"
"You talk in your sleep... loudly. Who's Ashley?"
Alex slammed the door.
She turned the water on as hot as she could stand it and let it beat against her back, but it didn't make her feel alive. She felt numb. She felt angry. She felt scared and alone. If Laura knew about the nightmares, it wouldn't be long before everyone else did, too. The truth would come out. It was inevitable if she stayed at North Oak. She would have to run away at the races today like she planned. She saw no other option.
The early November air was brisk, but the sky was blue and sunny. It was beautiful weather in Louisville, Kentucky. The track, grandstand, and surrounding facilities were all immaculately clean and festive, dotted with the royal purple and white banner of the prestigious Breeders Cup.
Alex had never seen so many people in one place before. It made her nervous and uncomfortable. People from around the world had flocked to the rich races: dignitaries, royalty, ambassadors all were here.
All wanted eternal glory.
Along with most of North Oak's clan, Alex got sucked into the luxurious clubhouse suite Mr. North had rented for the weekend. Everyone was dressed beautifully, and Alex felt completely out of place.
Despite being approached by Brooke, Alex had little desire to mingle with anyone. Worst of all, gifts from Mr. North kept finding their way to her: t-shirts, movies, commemorative glasses all piled up on the small glass end table by her chair. It was sickening. She thought she might vomit again.
When she gave Mr. North a sour look, he merely grinned and winked at her. Alex leaned over to Hillary and quietly made the excuse that she would rather watch Venus Galaxies's race from the track rail.
This was her moment to escape.
Alex pushed through the thick swamp of people, skimming through them near the track's outside rail. Workers in tractors harrowed the dirt prior to Venus Galaxies's race. The Distaff was the richest race on the card that day, just as the Classic was the highlight of tomorrow's races. The Distaff purse, set at $2,000,000, was more money than Alex could ever fathom.
As she tried to disappear in the crowd, trumpets blared the call to post and Thoroughbreds streamed on to the track. Alex paused, unable to avoid looking for Venus Galaxies. The view was too perfect from where she stood not to.
As the horses began to pass, Alex found herself humming to the musical jingle jangle of bit and bridle, as though it had gotten under her skin. The mares had an almost ethereal quality as they seemed to float over the track rather than trot or canter. Their snorts and huffs of excitable, fleeting breath left Alex breathless herself. The glint of sun on iron and silk and leather emanated a kind of warmth and life.
Alex heard a higher calling when a solitary gaze from Venus Galaxies picked her out from the entire crowd and bored through her. It reaffirmed that she did have a place in this world. It was here in the soil, here in the roar of the crowd, here at Churchill Downs.
The call of racing bellowed at her, making her feel as though her soul would burst. She shut her eyes and tried to imagine what it would feel like to be perched over the gleaming withers of a champion.
She could almost feel the electric energy flow through the reins, every muscle coiled below her, ready to give everything at her very word while a million voices screamed her name from the grandstand with no less fervor than a rockstar.
The horses loaded into the starting gate at the other side of the track. Alex trained her eyes on the red and silver silks of North Oak. Venus Galaxies loaded with little resistance just as Brooke joined Alex at the rail.
"Ha! I won a hundred bucks on an exacta in the last race. I'm totally hiding it when we get home so Pop can't spend it on whiskey." Brooke signed happily. "I love being tall. They never ask me for ID."
Alex peered at her from the corners of her eyes. How do these people keep finding me? She grimaced, angry that she had let herself get distracted from her plan. I'm supposed to be running away, dammit.
Brooke looked back at her, obviously trying to read her expression. "We've done all we can do," she said solemnly, "it's in the Lord's hands now."
Alex grimaced, turning her attention back to the starting gate. Last she checked, it was in the hands of the small man holding Venus Galaxies's reins, whom Alex absolutely envied right now.
Running away would be so much easier if I had a fast horse.
Finally the last mare loaded. The crowd quieted. A moment of silence. The starting gate bell clamored and eight of the world's best fillies and mares surged forward.
"And they're off!" the announcer chimed. "Off to an early lead is Air Guitar, followed closely by Soda Pop and Flag Flier. Three lengths back is Mad Money and Venus Galaxies with Stella's Desire in hot pursuit. Bringing up the rear is Debbie Do Be True, and Goodnight Sweetart trails. Setting quick fractions as they pass the quarter pole, Air Guitar continues to lead. Soda Pop is starting to put on a little pressure and Venus Galaxies is moving up to close the gap for third. Half a mile to go and these girls are blazing now. Air Guitar is fighting to maintain her lead, but here comes Venus Galaxies with a powerhouse move!"
The mares were heading into the turn for home, and Alex felt the excitement building. "C'mon. C'mon, lil sis, c'mon..."
"Venus Galaxies takes the lead at the top of the stretch with Soda Pop fighting back tenaciously."
"Come on, Venus!" Brooke yelled.
"Soda Pop isn't quitting. Venus Galaxies is digging down deep with a furlong to go."
Alex heard them getting closer, even over the din of the crowd. The pop of whips, the locomotive, rhythmic breathing of the mares, jockeys hollering and asking their courageous mounts to lay it all on the line here and now.
"...Noses apart! Here's the wire... too close to call!"
Alex's white-knuckle grip on the rail tightened. Venus galloped out and around the turn. "Did we win?" Alex asked.
Brooke looked serious. "I hope so. For North's sake."
"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer echoed over the crowd, "in the closest finish of the Breeders Cup Distaff, and in new track record time... Soda Pop finishes second with Venus Galaxies..."
Brooke and Alex started yelling and jumping up and down, cheering wildly. Venus had done it. Vindication for Mr. North's loss. It was a win for everyone at North Oak.
Venus Galaxies was being led into the winner's circle. Brooke tugged at Alex's elbow. "C'mon. We gotta go get our picture took!"
"Why me?" Alex asked.
"Hurry up, slow poke!"
Even with Brooke guiding her, Alex felt lost in the crowd. That was until she noticed all the cameras. She hadn't really paid much attention to them in the day's earlier races. But now that she was in the winner's circle herself, she couldn't ignore them. They were everywhere.
Flash
Pop
Click
Alex's heart hyper-raced. Mr. North pushed her to the front of the group.
"No, please, don't," she begged. Someone was going to see this photo somewhere and alert the authorities, and that would be the end of things.
"Don't be shy, now," Mr. North encouraged her.
"No, really." Alex had a gnawing sense this would only end badly. It was only a matter of time.
Pan.
Zoom in.
Focus on runaway orphan.
Flash.
Pop.
Click.