Raja, Story of a Racehorse (21 page)

Borium? What's that?

I made a face at Oliver, who laughed good naturedly. “Come on, Florida boy, winter's here. Get with it: borium, studs on your shoes, keep ya from slippin' on the ice and snow we'll be gettin' any day now. Love this time of year — reminds me of Veh'mont. We had real snow in Veh'mont, we did. Miss it, I do.”

A gravelly voice woke me up late one night, accompanied by the shaking beam of a flashlight.

“Hey Rob. Hey, man. Got any more of that horse tranquilizer?”

“Shh! Rocky. Quiet. Wanna get us busted? Be cool.” Officer Rob heaved his soft, overweight body into the grooming stall and turned on the dim light. He looked around quickly with his empty blue eyes and unconsciously picked at a mole on his chin before pulling a small flask out of his pocket and taking a long drink.

“I'm tellin' ya, it's good stuff. I can sell as much as you can get, the boys on the street love it.”

“Gimme the cash first.”

Picking a key out of the cluster he wore on his belt, Rob opened the equine medicine cabinet and pulled out a small foil packet. He held it in the air and kissed it.

“Top quality. From my special European vet connection. Forty grams. Two grand. OK, gimme the cash and get outa here. And don't come around here again. I don't want to have to hurt you or send my boys after you. You don't want that either.”

Overnight the city dressed itself up as though it were going to a fancy party. Thousands of sparkly lights on trees and lampposts twinkled prettily in the early dusk. Woodsy smelling wreaths and garlands with red ribbons appeared, expectantly inviting the city to put on its best manners. Women in long coats and high heeled boots and men wearing hats and scarves slowed their rapid, city walks to catch an eye, smile, nod, and say Merry Christmas.

Every street corner smelled of roasted chestnuts, my new obsession. I loved them almost as much as peppermints. Snowflakes finally came, gently drifting through the sparkly lights, hushing and softening the city, wrapping it in a clean white scarf. In Central Park, the ground was still springy underneath the snow. Yuri and I kept up our early morning dressage and Dee still came out to watch, now wearing an old blue parka with stains on the front. Like swarms of bees, more and more shoppers and tourists happily buzzed around the shops on Madison Avenue. The Plaza, especially, had an air of excitement as more limousines and celebrities arrived daily.

“Good morning, Maurice, looks like there's something going on.” More security guards than usual hovered around the entrance to the Plaza, where a small crowd of people had gathered to wait for someone important who was staying there. A group of photographers waited off to the side, blowing on their hands, drinking coffee out of paper cups and fiddling with their cameras. “Paparazzi. Must be a Hollywood star or maybe the President?”

Maurice tipped his hat, bowing, “Good morning to you, Yuri, Sasha. We have special guests — Rod McCabe and his royal girlfriend. They arrived last night, over from London where Rod is filming.”

“Ah, Rod McCabe, I loved him in his last movie. He deserved that Oscar. I'd better keep an extra eye on your crowd. It looks like it'll get bigger.”

The next morning, as brilliant fingers of pink reached across the early morning sky, Yuri and I worked on flying lead changes. A few remaining snowflakes drifted past. A man bundled up in a big puffy jacket and black wool hat threw a tennis ball for an enthusiastic German Shepherd in the southern corner of the field and a homeless woman with her hand on a shopping cart filled with stuff sat on a bench watching us.

Halfway through a series of lead changes, I smelled it.

Gardenias and peppermint!

I stopped suddenly and pawed the ground impatiently.

Where is that smell coming from?

“Come on Sasha. What's wrong?” Yuri was confused.

A man on cross country skis worked his way across the snowy field. Across from him, two runners chatted as they ran along the path in stride with each other, their breath billowing up, steamy, in the cold air. Not that direction. I smelled another whiff of the familiar scent. It was coming from the east. I looked up and nickered.

A woman wearing a snowflake-dusted winter coat was silhouetted against deeply blushing sky. She was coming this way with two large men following behind.

Could it be?

Another whiff of the delicious, glorious, scent. A joyful nicker escaped from deep inside me, louder this time.

“I'm sorry to interrupt your session,” she apologized to Yuri as she approached, “It's just so beautiful and unexpected. My name is Ayesha. I'm staying at the Plaza and find it very difficult to escape from the paparazzi unless I get up early in the morning. Imagine, wandering upon such a sight of sheer perfection. It's breathtaking. Your horse is stunning. May I say hello?”

I nickered again, tossing my head as she came closer.

Here I am!

Her eyes admired me, then widened, as they found the scars on my hind end and then travelled to my forehead. She traced the scimitar marking with a forefinger.

“It couldn't be,” she said quietly. I nickered again and put my nose toward her, overjoyed at seeing her again as she burst into tears, hugging and petting me.

“I can't believe it. Raja. I almost didn't recognize you.”

Princess Ayesha, I've found you.

It was so wonderful to see her. She was grown up, a beautiful woman now. My heart felt like it would burst from joy. Princess Ayesha, my childhood special friend!

We're finally reunited!

“I take it you've met Sasha?”

“Sasha? Oh, yes. My father bred this horse and he was foaled at my family's stud. He was a very good racehorse and could have won the Kentucky Derby if a starting gate accident hadn't ended his career.”

Ayesha scratched my tickly spot. “Oh, how I've missed you.” She turned to Yuri,“Sorry. This is just a bit overwhelming.”

“It's nice to meet you, Ayesha. My name is Yuri Belanov. A starting gate, eh? So that's what the scars are from. I suspected that there was a story behind them. My friend found him at the auction. He came close to being sold for horse meat. She had to outbid the killers.”

She gasped and started at him, horrified.

“Horse meat!”

“He was in rough shape, must have fallen into the wrong hands. We looked up his race record but couldn't find anything after his last race and tried to contact the Sheikh, but he had sold the farm. You must be his daughter?”

Ayesha pressed her face into my neck. “Yes. My father sold the farm when we left the country a few years ago.” She threw her arms around my neck. “I found you, Raja. I can't believe it! He loves peppermints. Don't you my love?” She turned her tear streaked face to Yuri, pushing her long hair out of her face.“He looks wonderful — shiny coat, beautifully groomed, happy expression and muscled-up. And what lovely flatwork. He's incredible — poetry in motion. Belanov… Belanov… that name sounds familiar. You're not related to—”

“Princess.” One of the bodyguards moved closer.

At that exact moment, Dee rode her bike toward us ferociously, skidding to a dramatic stop before discarding it on the ground and running closer, eyes more on fire than usual, color high. She struggled for breath as her words spilled out in rapid succession in the general direction of Princess Ayesha.

“Hi, my name's Dee. I don't want to rush you, but I thought that you'd want to know that a group of photographers is heading this way.”

We all looked over in the direction Dee was pointing. A pack of about 20 men carrying large cameras was racing toward us.

“I'll create a distraction so that you can get away,” Dee cheerfully announced with a chip-toothed grin. “Be careful, there's a big patch of black ice over there.” She pointed toward an area on the path next to a big boulder and then took off on her bike toward the photographers, pedaling as though she was possessed by an angry spirit. When she reached them, she fell dramatically, clutching her leg and screaming loudly. “OWWW. Help! My leg! AAHHHH. I think it's broken! Please help me!”

Several of the photographers stopped to help her. Yuri and I knew that she was faking, but we went over, adding to the confusion and allowing Princess Ayesha to escape. When we could no longer see her, or her bodyguards, Dee stood up, got on her bike and rode off, smiling and waving at the paparazzi, messy braids flying behind her.

I can't wait to see Princess Ayesha again!

That night I thought of the afternoons at the farm in Florida under our tree with her sweet voice singing to me, “Don't worry, 'bout a thing, 'cause every little thing's gonna be alright.”

The crowd outside the Plaza waiting to see Rod McCabe and Princess Ayesha swelled as people stopped to see what was going on. We were on afternoon patrol in front of the Plaza, special duty crowd control. The late afternoon shadows grew longer as the trickle of people walking home from work, heads tucked into their scarves and hats against the bitter north wind, strengthened into a torrent.

“Rod McCabe! I love him. I've seen all his movies.”

An excited hush came over the crowd as Maurice opened the door and the couple waded through the crowd toward the waiting big black car.

“Over here, Rod.”

“Rod, can I have an autograph?”

People pushed and shoved, wanting to get closer to them. I kept willing Ayesha to look toward me, but I had to keep my focus on the crowd.

I'm here! Over here!

Finally, she looked up through the forest of people and saw me. A beautiful smile lit up her face as she caught my eye. She walked closer, trailing a pack of paparazzi. Oblivious to them, she focused completely on me as she gave me a kiss on the nose, fed me a peppermint and scratched my tickly spot. A warm glow came over me and it was just the two of us. The crowd faded.

“You are the most perfect thing in the universe and I will always love you.”

The crowd surged closer in the twilight and the paparazzi started taking pictures.

Flash! Flash! Click! Pop!

Hundreds of flashes of light blinded and confused me.

LIGHTNING!

My heart leapt into my throat and a loud roaring sound filled my ears.

Run!

I forgot about Yuri, Princess Ayesha and the crowd as I wheeled around and bolted as fast as I could down the sidewalk into the park. I passed the row of carriages and the frozen duck pond and went into the park, blind to the runners, bicyclists and baby strollers in my way, blind to Yuri trying to stop me, blind to everything except the need to escape. The only thing that existed was my body, my breath and heart and the sound of my hooves on the pavement.

Ta-da-da-dum, ta-da-da-dum, ta-da-da-dum.

I looked up rounding a turn next to a big boulder.

SLAM!

My feet went out from underneath me.

Black ice!

Yuri, underneath me, cushioned my fall as the reins came over my head. Still possessed by the flight instinct, I scrambled up, hysterical, leaving Yuri on the ground. I began to run again, reins dangling in front of me. Rounding another corner, I found my way blocked by an enormous crowd barrier, taller than a man.