EDITOR'S NOTE: This is the 13th chapter of an 18-part story that The Augusta Chronicle will publish in Your Life on Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays.
|
ADVERTISEMENT
|
|
|
Have a thought?
Go to the Forums or Chat.
|
|
|
STORY SO FAR: Ben's first glimpse of the Saratoga racetrack is a thrill - until he realizes he's less valuable than the horse Gogo and until he realizes that Joe Pastore has followed them there. But why?
Ben spent the next few days hovering between guilt, resentment and doubt. Every time he found himself mulling over why Joe had gone to the track, he thought he must be crazy to wonder if a ghost was planning mischief - against Gogo. But he didn't say anything about his suspicions. The last thing he needed was for people to think he was mentally unstable. He wasn't going to mention it. It was none of his business, anyway. And besides, what could a ghost do to a horse?
But he thought about it, all the same, especially since nobody talked about anything but the race. The race. Gogo's race. Saturday.
And then Saturday arrived.
"You should kind of dress up," Rachel said to Ben, pausing on the stairway as they passed each other. It was almost the first time she'd spoken to him since the lighter incident.
Ben felt himself blush and hated her for it. "I don't have a suit or anything."
"No, not a suit." Rachel smiled warmly. Really smiled. "But we'll be in the clubhouse, and they expect you to look nice. No shorts. No flip-flops. No jeans."
A smile from her was all it took. "Okay," he said, mentally reviewing his meager wardrobe.
Any hope Ben had that he was meeting the dress code was dashed when he came downstairs again, dressed in his only khakis and a navy blue polo shirt, and the only shoes he had that weren't flip-flops - his sneakers. Mr. Brennan was in a tan linen suit with a pink shirt and a brilliant blue tie. Rachel wore a pink sundress and a pearl choker, and she held a wide-brimmed straw hat. Mrs. Brennan wore a black linen dress with black-and-white shoes and a black straw hat. They were all too polite to say anything about Ben's clothes, but he was certain they disapproved; he heard the slight crinkle of newspaper as Mrs. Brennan clenched her fingers around her Daily Racing Form. He felt like the proverbial sore thumb, sticking out all over. The Brennans' world was so different from what he was used to back home - where "fancy" meant wearing khakis instead of jeans.
In the car on the way over, the Brennans and Rachel chattered excitedly about Gogo's workouts, his time, his weight allowance, the track conditions, the other horses in the race. Ben had nothing to say.
It wasn't long before they found themselves in a snarl of traffic crawling toward the Saratoga track. Conversation died as tension mounted. When they finally arrived at the racetrack gate - the actual track this time, not the training track across the street - a uniformed officer checked the decal on the car and waved them through. They made their way along a drive lined with pine trees.
A long line had formed at the red-and-white ticket kiosks. Picnic tables among the trees were crowded with people opening coolers, while TV monitors suspended from poles were aflicker with images. Mr. Brennan found a spot among the Bentleys and Mercedes-Benzes that thronged the avenues, and a few minutes later, they passed through the gate and began climbing the staircase marked Clubhouse. The stairs went up the back of the grandstand, and once they reached the top, Ben caught a glimpse of the racetrack below and beyond the seats, on the inside of the sweeping arc of the stands. He felt a rush of excitement.
Without a word, he followed the swirl of Rachel's pink dress as it moved through the spectators across the echoing shade of the grandstand and down a few more steps among the boxes - the sections in the clubhouse facing the inside of the track that were reserved for individual groups. Each box had four to six chairs facing the racetrack, a shelf across the front for holding drinks and programs and a monitor for watching the action up close. Mr. and Mrs. Brennan were greeting friends and shaking hands as they entered their box. Feeling like a snot-nosed kid among all the glamour, binoculars and cameras, Ben pulled out a chair and sat down.
Before him, the racetrack was so bright it was as if it were illuminated from inside the earth. Being under the vaulted canopy of the grandstand, Ben was in the shade, but out on the track the sun blazed with intense August brilliance. Three tractors dragged chains around the track, grooming the sand, and then a man in a tailcoat marched out onto the oval with a long trumpet. He blared out a fanfare. From the right, racehorses mounted by jockeys in colorful silks came prancing onto the track, each accompanied by another horse and rider.
"Which one is Gogo?" Ben asked Rachel in an undertone.
"This isn't Gogo's race," Rachel said loudly. "This is just the first race. Gogo's in the sixth."
"Oh." Humiliated, Ben opened his program, wishing he could be anywhere but here. There was a burst of laughter from behind him. Ben was sure whoever it was was laughing at him, and he ducked his head, staring at his program with unseeing eyes.
To Ben's surprise, a flood of bitterness swept over him and he felt a childish, vengeful wish that Joe Pastore would punish them. All of them. Do something to make Gogo lose. Not hurt him, but make him not win. Maybe Leo would call from Gogo's stable, saying the horse was sick or -
Just then, the cell phone in Mr. Brennan's pocket let out a shrill ring, and Ben froze.
(To be continued.)
TEXT 2003 BY JENNIFER ARMSTRONG; ILLUSTRATIONS 2003 BY C.B. MORDAN; REPRINTED BY PERMISSION OF BREAKFAST SERIALS INC.
Previous Chapters of 'The Winner's Circle'
• Chapter 1: Welcome to the Wind Rider Farms
• Chapter 2: Hoofbeats in the Fog
• Chapter 3: The Lashing Whip
• Chapter 4: Meeting Rachel
• Chapter 5: A Horse Race Isn't a Horse Race ...
• Chapter 6: The Face on the Wall
• Chapter 7: Fearless, generous, and kind
• Chapter 8: A Ghostly Warning
• Chapter 9: An Accusation
• Chapter 10: Haunted by Doubts
• Chapter 11: Evening Up the Score
• Chapter 12: A Meeting at the Track
• Chapter 13: Race-Day Revenge
• Chapter 14: And They're Off!!
• Chapter 15: The Broken Circle
• Chapter 16: Fire!
• Chapter 17: Death of a firebug
• Chapter 18: Final chapter
