Raja, Story of a Racehorse (28 page)

February, Chester County, Pennsylvania

“Happy Valentine's day, my love.” Paddy grabbed Tricia in a bear hug and kissed her decisively on the cheek as they did barn chores the first morning of the storm.

“Isn't this snow romantic? One foot on the ground and another foot on the way — time to read by the fire, have a cup of tea, and pop a roast in the oven. The boys and Dee will be out sledding as soon as they get up and I'll bet Sam'll come over with his snowmobile for some fun.”

Tricia smiled as she handed Paddy three small buckets filled with grain. Snickers squealed and whinnied in anticipation, pawing the floor impatiently.

“We'd better get the toboggan down from the hay loft. I'm glad we let Dee sleep in. She's been training hard.”

As Paddy opened the barn door to dump Snickers' water bucket, a soft pile of snow blew in the barn. “Wow, there's a lot of snow! It just keeps coming. I don't think we'll be riding any time soon. Now, if we had six inches of snow, it would be perfect for galloping. Do you remember those days?”

“Of course,” Tricia laughed. “We wore ski goggles and tried not to get hit in the face from the snowballs kicked up by the hooves of the horse in front of us. The horses hated getting hit in the face, too. Remember Damaselle? She used to take off every time a snowball hit her.”

The next morning dawned pink, blue and still. Tree branches bent over, transformed into creatures by the snow. Huge icicles hung down from the sides of the barn and towering snow drifts buried the fence. From time to time, a new pile of snow slid off the roof with a loud thud. Everything sparkled.

Paddy stomped into the barn, knocking snow off his boots, followed by Dee.

“I'll need to dig out the tractor and get plowing. It was a quite a job just walking to the barn. I wonder if those snow shoes are still in the hayloft. Will you please take a look when you throw the hay down, Dee?”

The roads were plowed but icy — unjoggable — and the snow was too deep to gallop. Even the training track was shut down.

“I have just the thing for us to do,” Paddy announced. “I think you should have an indoor jump school. I have a wonderful client with an indoor arena not too far away. She was on the U.S. Equestrian Team and she coaches now. She's won just about every big international show jumping title in the world, including an Olympic medal. I'll call her to see if we can go over there today if you help me dig out the trailer.”

Thump!

A pile of snow slid off the roof of the big indoor arena. I snorted loudly and spooked, bucking, past the brightly colored jumps set up inside. It was cold and I was fit and feeling good. Paddy's voice floated over from the barn attached to the arena.

“Dee's already on and warming up. The horse is a beautiful jumper and he's had a very good education. She's a good natural rider but she needs some schooling. They're working toward riding in the point-to-point.”

Whoa!

I spooked again, across to the other side as a wheelchair rolled into the arena.

“Easy, Raja,” whispered Dee, patting me and giving me a loose rein.

“Hello, Dee, why don't you come over here. Let's see what we have,” called the woman in the wheelchair. I stopped suddenly.

I know that voice!

She looked the same, happy, pretty and smiling.

MICHELLE!

Dee walked me across the arena to the wheelchair and I reached my nose down. Michelle opened her eyes widely, then drew in a quick intake of breath and patted me gently on the nose.

Oh, I remember her knowing and kind touch.

In a quiet voice, she asked, “What did you say this horse's name was?”

“I didn't,” Paddy responded. “He's a very good horse, a Derby prospect in his youth. He was rescued from the killers. His name is Raja.”

By now, tears were streaming down Michelle's face.

“What did I say wrong?” asked Paddy, concerned.

Michelle smiled. “Raja, it's so good to see you again. You were the one I missed the most. When that awful man went to jail, no one could tell me where you went. Paddy, of course this horse has a good education. I gave it to him!”

She wheeled quickly to the door of the barn. “Speedy, Bob, come here quickly! I have a wonderful surprise.”

Dee and I stood still as Bob, then Speedy, appeared.

“I can't believe it!” exclaimed Bob, “I broke this horse. He was bred by the Sheikh,” he told Paddy.

“Raja,” drawled Speedy, “the good Lord must've been listenin' when I tol' him how much I miss you.”

He reached into his pocket, then gave me a salty corn chip, patting my neck. “It's a miracle to see you.”

For the next 30 minutes, everyone just talked. Paddy and Dee told their story: Beth, Yuri, New York, the kill truck, finding me in Abe's barn, training for the point-to-point. Then Michelle and Bob told theirs: racing, the starting-gate accident and show jumping. Speedy even told them about Mary and the wild gallop for the helicopter.

“After the Sheikh sold the farm and moved back to his country, Michelle and I were married and we moved up here,” Bob explained. Michelle coaches young riders and I break-in youngsters. We run a therapeutic riding program here, too. Of course, Michelle has started riding again and she's thinking about trying out for the Para-Olympic Equestrian Team.”

He smiled, “she's always gotta have a goal and be shooting for the stars. That's my girl, like ol' Winston Churchill — never, ever, ever, ever give in. That's why she's an Olympian.”

Paddy smiled and raised his eyebrows at Dee, as if to say, “See?”

I remember how much I missed Michelle and how alike we are.

It was quite a reunion, but I was getting antsy. Of course, Michelle noticed. “Dee, I think we better get on with things before Raja loses interest. Why don't you trot him around a bit to warm up, and then we can run through the gymnastic?”

After the lesson, Michelle laughed, “He's still the most phenomenal jumper I've ever known. He has so much power and scope! I hope you come again.”

She stopped for a moment. “Funny, I just remembered that my old coach, Colonel Belanov, had a grandson named Yuri when we trained at the USET. He was a very good rider and loved to show off trick riding. He did incredible moves, like picking things up off the ground at a full gallop. He must be the same Yuri. Who else would do dressage in Central Park?”

As we walked out the door, Speedy turned to Dee. “Is he still afraid of thunderstorms? Sing to him, he likes reggae. Bob Marley.”

“He's afraid of storms? That's very interesting,” Bob said thoughtfully, scratching his chin. “You know, when he was a foal, his mother was killed by lightning — right in front of him. She was the Sheikh's best mare. Maximillian, another colt by Raja's sire, won the Belmont Stakes and came pretty darn close to winning the Kentucky Derby.”

The same father? That means Shaddy and To the Max are related to me!

“Ah, the February thaw, 'tis lovely with all of the mud and dirty snow banks,” Paddy sighed as he looked at the heavy grey snow drifts that were turning into muddy new streams and ponds. He took off his sweater as he turned us out, watching a bright red cardinal land on the fence by the barn.

“I saw Wyatt Rogers when I did Rick's horses' teeth yesterday. Rick's a lucky man to have both Wyatt and Jed Steele working for him. They're both very good jump jockeys. Anyway, Wyatt said he'd be delighted to ride Raja for his first start. I think we should aim for the Blue Ridge Point-to-Point the first week of March. Your race is two weeks after that. Let's go to the training track this weekend and give Raja his first ‘work,' an easy one, more of a pipe opener. After that, Wyatt can work him the following week and school him before the race. If the ground is good, I'd like to take Raja over to Rick's and school over his timber fences in company.”

February, Fair Hill, Maryland

Working! We're WORKING!

The cold, crisp, windy day made me jig. I let out an excited buck.

I'm so excited to be on the track.

Several other steeplechase trainers were at the training track with the same idea. Everyone was busy getting ready for the rapidly approaching spring racing season. When Dee and I stepped onto the track, I saw Shaddy, To the Max, and Inquisitor finishing up a work with Sam, Wyatt and Jed aboard.

“This is his first work in a very long time,” Paddy instructed Dee, “so go easy. Gallop once around, slowly. When you pass the wire, open him up a little, more of an ‘open gallop.' Whatever you do, don't let him go too fast! Pull up when you pass the wire the second time.”

I could tell that Dee was nervous, especially since Rick, Wyatt, Sam and Jed were watching. We jogged once around the track, then Dee turned and eased me into a slow gallop.

I feel fresh, fit and strong — sharp!

When we reached the wire, she steered me to the inside rail.

“OK, Raja, let's go.”

I opened my stride, punching the track with my hooves in a faster and faster rhythm, the cold wind whistling past my ears.

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

We rounded the turn, approaching Rick and Paddy. I went faster, showing off.

I love feeling athletic again. Look at me!

As we passed Paddy, Dee stood up in her stirrups and tried to pull me up.

I kept going, faster, ignoring her.

I'm having too much fun. I haven't gone fast in years.

“Raja, what's gotten into you? Slow down!” Dee stood up again, leaning back and pulling as hard as she could.

I feel good. Speed, glorious speed!

We came around the turn a second time, heading toward the stretch. Dee was breathing hard, tired, unbalanced and loose in the tack, feeling like she might come off. After we passed Paddy a second time, I let her pull me up. I jigged all the way back.

That was the most fun I'd had in years!

“I said GO EASY! Were you trying to break him down?” Paddy's eyes flashed in anger. I had never seen Paddy this angry. “If you can't hold him, you shouldn't ride him in a race. Only bad things will come of that and I won't be responsible for getting you or Raja hurt. You have three weeks to learn how to hold him or we're not going to race this horse.” He turned and walked stonily down the path.