Hero

Ashley Sowers

Chapter 1

             I wasn’t anything special, just a girl who pretty much grew up on the backstretch at Santa Anita race track, watching my dad ride the California thoroughbreds to victory from the roofs of the stables. And that’s where I was when it happened.

            The bell rang loud and clear through warm Los Angeles night as the doors of the starting gate flew open. Six Equine bodies flew by the Grand Stands at blinding speed and entered the far turn. I watched with silent awe as my father skillfully maneuvered his twelve hundred pound mount through the thunder of the five other horses ahead of him.
           

            My father’s horse was rather large chestnut filly by the name of California Candy who was flighty, yet she could outrun most of her opponents. I was always worried when he mounted a particularly flighty racehorse like that; the kind shies at the sight of their own shadow. California Candy was that kind of horse.
           

            Dad was the greatest rider in the world as far as I was concerned, but to another’s eyes he wasn‘t enough to ride in anything big, just claiming races. All the same, I was intent on following in his foot steps.
           

            Six massive Thoroughbreds flew into the backstretch, the artificial light danced across their bodies, making them seem more surreal. Dad skillfully maneuvered his red mount in-between two smaller bays to take over the lead. I toyed all the while with the old Irish half-crown coin that hung from the thin braided rope around my neck.
           

            As the horses neared my position on the roof top I stopped fiddling and leaned forward in anticipation, the half-crown twirling in dizzying spirals, flashing as the beams of artificial lights caught it in their rays. The horses started gathering up on their heels as they passed me, but some thing was wrong, I could see it in the way California Candy was not focused on the race or my dads commands at all. No, her eyes were suddenly wide and fearful, her attention caught on something foreign and unknown to her. In that instant a flash of something silver shined across her body, a flash that sent her over the edge and crashing into the rail.
           

            It happened so fast I didn’t believe it. One moment six horses were battling it out on the back stretch for first position, the next thing I know only three are fighting for first. I watched as a black and two bays, one dark and one blood continued around the club house turn with no sign of stopping. Then slowly deliberately, as though in an underwater dream, I turned back to the wreck. The number two jockey getting up slowly, painfully, his horse loping away , visibly in pain after the other three that had left him behind. Ricky the number five jockey and my dads best friend had all but forgotten his horse who had stood back up and loped away in confusion.
           

            But none of that mattered to me right now, the only thing that did was the thrashing giant red filly that couldn’t get up yet still kept running. Ricky made his way over to the distressed horse and shook his head, it clear the filly wouldn’t survive. It was evident that she had broken her left foreleg to the point of no return. But what bothered me most was not the fact that her leg was bent in an unnatural position, it was the fact that my father was no where to be seen.
           

            Then the bigger picture sunk in. As California Candy continued to flail, I noticed how her barrel was curved upward in an arc, unnatural as though she were lying on something. I found my voice then.
           

            “DADDY, NO!”
I screamed for him over and over, tears clouding my vision. Strong arms restrained me and pulled me away from the scene, I kicked and I hit and I screamed. Then I heard Mike the stable boy try to comfort me. Yeah, as if that was going to happen in a moment like this.
           

            I elbowed him in the gut and took off, down the ladder, through the barn, running blindly until I reached the track. By the time I got there, they filly had been euthanized and my dad was gone. I heard the sirens and tore after the ambulance that was taking my father away from me. The next thing I knew I was lying on the dirt track in tears. In this moment I knew he was gone. What had I done to deserve this? Was I not worthy enough to live a happy life with a loving father and surrounded by the most royal of all breeds of horses?
           

            After a good solid five minutes I stood and turned away. I was on my own now and I didn’t know what was in store for me. I looked up when I heard a familiar voice.
           

            “Emmy?” Ricky said cautiously.
So much for caution, I tackled him with a bear hug and allowed a few silent tears to escape my green eyes.
            “I’m so sorry Em. Truly” he apologized. “You can stay with Miranda, the kids and I till we get this sorted out. OK?”
           

            I nodded then looked over my shoulder at the sound of a tractor starting up. I watched as the John Deere pulled the covered corpse of the thoroughbred filly off the track. Any other day it would have made me hurt to see such a sight, but tonight I could care less. That excuse of a horse was my worst enemy, she killed my father, she deserved her death.
           

            From this moment on I promised my self that I would refuse to be near one, to even touch one, to even own a model or a poster of such a heart -less creature. I went cold, not in a stiff fearful way, but in a way of pure raw hatred. All the hatred I felt was for the red horse that had looked so beautiful to me not ten minutes ago. I was wrong, thoroughbred’s weren’t the royalty of the horse world, they were the scum of it.
           

            My concentration was broken when Ricky started to pull me away from the track, I followed him with out hesitation, wanting to leave this all behind as soon as possible. Behind me I heard the announcer call out the name of horses for the seventh race. I wanted to scream. How could they continue on like nothing had happened ? A man had just been killed on this track and they didn’t hesitate to morn the loss of a life?
           

            I broke free of Ricky’s one armed hold and ran away, away from the track, away from the barns, away from the only life I’d ever known. I could hear Ricky trying to catch up with me and I slowed. I had forgotten that he had just been in the same wreck dad would never walk away from. I walked right up to Ricky’s small Nissan truck and waited.
           

            He didn’t say a word as he unlocked his vehicle and we both climbed in. I kept very quite, brooding on the short ride home. Every thing was so quiet that I jumped when Ricky said my full name.
            “Emerald?”
           

             I looked at him for the first time that night. No one who knew me never called me by full name, unless I was in trouble
“Why don’t you go get packed and I’ll call Miranda and let her know whats going on.”
           

            I looked around and noticed we were parked in front of my house. I nodded in agreement and slowly got out of his truck and made my way to the front porch. Taking the key from under the welcome mat I stepped inside the empty building that I had once called home. But what was a home if there was no family to make it feel like home?
           

            With out asking them to, my feet took me down the pathetic excuse of a hall to the last room on the right. Flicking the light switch on I looked up and the first thing my eyes touched was the poster of Sea Biscuit that dad had had given to me the day the movie came to theaters. I snapped.
           

            The shock of the night vanished into lived hatred the moment I saw the poster. I hurled my self at it and ripped it off the wall with a sharp tearing sound. Making my way around the room I tore down every poster, every picture, smashed every model, obliterating every object in my room related to horses. I was halfway blinded with rage as I tore my room apart, listening with satisfaction as model horses shattered against the walls, posters being ripped apart by me.
           

            I got carried away and I broke every DVD about horses I had, The Horse Whisperer, Sea Biscuit, Ruffian, Dreamer and more. Screaming with rage and hurt all the while as the shards of DVD‘s cut my hands. I threw the last broken and blood stained DVD to the ground, turning to the double doors on the far side of my room and throwing them open with a bang.
           

             I yanked my duffel bag down from the shelf in my closet, stuffing it with almost every article of clothing that didn’t have a horse printed onto it and zipped it closed. I turned for the door and stopped just before my feet touched the wood of the hallway floor. I reached up to grasp the half crown coin around my neck and froze.
           

            How could I? Dad had given this to me on my first day of school. It had been handed down to the first born child of each generation since 1937. It was special, and I knew it the moment he gave it to me, and now it took every thing I had to not rip it from my neck, to be the one to break the tradition.
           

            A tear escaped my eye as I undid the clasp behind my neck and turned the necklace around so that the silver horse would never see the sun again. I clasped it back in place and traced the symbol of Ireland with my index finger. As I walked to the front door, I paused and I took a picture in an ornate silver frame from the kitchen counter.
           

            Staring at the picture of the two of us, I began to cry. I didn’t want to leave this place that I once called home, I couldn’t bear it. I had been born here, I said my first word here, I watched my mom pack her bags and leave here, I cooked here, I taught my self to dance here, how could I leave here?
           

            A horn honked and Rickey called my name once again. I knew I didn’t have a choice now, I had to leave, I had to get far away from here, as far as possible. In a dream like state, I closed and locked the door behind me, climbed into the forest green truck and never looked back.