The
Heart
Always Lives
On
By
Viola Folsom
The excitement in the air bellowed around me like a thick blanket. The horses were being led into the starting gates. I was number 5 out of 10 horses. It wasn’t the best spot, but it was fine with me. It would give me a chance to get where I wanted to be in the group.
The horse before me was being loaded in. I recognized the horse. Her name was Lucky Seven and she was fast. I had raced against her on Blazing Glory. He was retired now. He retired last year to stud. This year I was riding Misting Star. She was a dappled gray mare. My parents had bought her for me as a birthday gift.
This was her first race and I intended to win. Misting Star would earn her name and she would become a famous racehorse. We might even win the Triple Crown like Raging War did a few years back.
The assistant came and took a hold of Misty’s bridle and led her carefully into the gate. Glistening white sweat began to show on Misty’s gray neck. She was extremely excited. I began to whisper words of encouragement into her ear. “Misty, calm down. We can win this. It’s ok. Just give it all you can and we’ll do our best.” Misty calmed down a bit but she was still excited.
The last horse was loaded. I readied myself into a jockey’s position as I tightened the reins, bent closer to her withers, and awaited the bell. I had been racing for 5 years and I wasn’t going to mess up now.
The bell rang out loud and clear. It was like a huge buzzer had went off in my ears. The gates flew open and the horses jumped into action immediately. We went out in 5th. Horses closed in beside me. Misty didn’t even flinch. She pounded across the track, making her way toward the front. Misty was fast, ever since she had began her training, she had always been the one beauty to stand out above all the other foals. I knew that she would give it her all to win this race. I looked to my right, a jockey named Danny was riding a horse named Blazing Fire. He was a fast horse on turf, but I didn’t really know how he acted on dirt. Then I looked to my left and a smart aleck jockey named John was riding a dark, chestnut colored thoroughbred named Comet. He could go either way. Comet didn’t have a lot of experience, he played on both turf and dirt, but he hadn’t raced more than a few races.
I looked back forward and made sure that Misty didn’t use herself all up. It would be useless for her to race if she didn’t have any strength left. Suddenly I felt a huge jolt. My foot had come loose from the stirrup. Oh no help! I panicked. I had never quite slipped from the saddle of a horse since I had first ridden one. His name was Jolting Winner. I never quite felt the same about him again.
Misty didn’t seem to have noticed that I was slipping. She was still pounding her was up through the thong of horses. I tried frantically to try and grab her mane. I just couldn’t seem to be able to grip it. It was like trying to grab onto running water and hold it tight. It just seemed impossible to do. I squeezed tighter with my legs to try and stay on, but it was a horrible idea. Misty, being a trained racehorse, took this as a sign to go faster. She serged forward in front of everyone else, we still had a quarter mile to run! There was a huge surprised ‘ah’ from the crowd around.
I grabbed the reins as hard as I could to try and slow her down, but Misty was galloping so fast that my other foot began to come loose. I struggled to hang on. We were in first place and if I fell......
I could feel Misty began to tire, her breathing became heavier and white patches of sweat appeared on her neck. We hadn’t even got to the stretch yet! We would never make it! I began to panic, Misty could seriously damage herself if she kept going. We were 6 lengths ahead of everyone, With all my might, I pulled as hard as I could on the reins, begging that she would slow down. If Misty got hurt, my racing career would be over. Misty didn’t start to slow down. Instead, she reared up about 6 inches of the ground and that was it for me, I couldn’t hold on with just one foot in the stirrup. I fell backward, sliding over the slick, black, English saddle and over the back of Misty, I tried to grab on to something, anything, but I couldn’t. Then at the last second, I managed to grab a hold of the saddle, but the oil on the saddle made my hands slip around. I wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer.
A loud scream erupted from somewhere in the crowd. Several other loud screams fallowed. This isn’t helping the situation! I thought angrily. Ok, now what do I do? I thought. I stupidly looked around for something else to grab on to. There was nothing else around except for 9 other horses pounding their way up the track behind us. I looked over to the side of Misty and I was horrified. We had just cone around the last turn and what lay ahead of up was the final stretch. With Misty’s hooves pounding inches away from me, I would never be able to stay on.
I suddenly heard more screams as one of my hands fell from the saddle. Sweat was gathering up on my skin. My hands were becoming extremely clammy. The finish line lay yards away. Then, everything seemed to go in slow motion. My hand fell away from the saddle, Misty’s hooves continued onward, and I hit the ground Painfully hard. Something snapped and I felt agenizing pain in my wrist. It was like someone was stepping on it continuously without mercy.
I tried to look to see where Misty had gone, but the pain was unbearable. My eyes began to water and I started to black out. I could smell the horsey smell that you can only find at ranches and stables. Then I hear the most horrible sound. The sound of hooves hitting the ground became steadily closer. I couldn’t hear the skidding of horses to try and avoid me. I tried to block my face with my arms, trying to lesson the impact, but it seemed that the impact never came. I awaited for the searing pain that I knew was to come.
Suddenly, I couldn’t hear anything. It was as if I had gone deaf. I slowly removed my pained arms to find out that I couldn’t see either. I tried to scream, no sound came out. I began to search around frantically for something to grab a hold of, something to help me make sure that I wasn’t somehow dead. I couldn’t find anything. All I could get my hands on was thin air and the flat, cold, smooth, floor. It had a liquidly feel to it with creases in it.
Then the last thing that I remembered came back full force. The race was vivid in my mind. The memory that was playing was like I was watching a video that someone else had taped. It seemed totally unreal to me. The race....Misty.......the stirrup.....and the fall......
It all came back in little pieces, but they soon pulled themself together, creating the bigger picture. I had to have died. There is no way that I could have survived being trampled by 9 horses.
Just as suddenly as the memory had come, it had left and it seemed like someone had turned a light on. I could see again. “There was actually light!!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. I could hear again. It was like a sweet song that was playing within my ears. The beautiful melody of sound. “Mary. Mary, wake up. Come on sweetie. Please wake up.” words echoed around my head. It was my mother, Dana. I wasn’t dead! Yes!!!.
“Mom! Mom, I am up!” I tried to scream, but she didn’t hear me. Suddenly I could fell someone shaking me. Easy at first, but then more violently. “Stop!” I screamed. “Please, stop, I’m going to fall!” The shaking didn’t stop.
“Mary, please wake up. You have to wake up.” my mother cried. I could hear the sadness in her voice and I could tell that her eyes were swelling with tears.
Then it seemed like an angel had soared over to stand beside me. “Open your eyes Mary. Your parents are waiting for you. It’s not time for you to leave your world. Wake up dear. Your family misses you.” Her voice was misty-like. It seemed like she was a ghost, a mere spirit, talking in a mystical voice from far away.
“I tried, but I can’t. It’s like I’m just a bystander that can’t do anything. Plus, no one cares anyway. I ruined my jockey career.” I tried to tell her, but she didn’t listen. My face was downcast at this statement.
“Open your eyes and you shall see.” that was all she said before she disappeared into thin air.
“Wait! What do you mean, ‘open your eyes and you shall see’?!” I called after her but she was gone.
I pondered on that statement for quite sometime and I didn’t get anywhere. “What did you mean!?!?!?!” I screamed in fury. No answer returned. I began to thrash around like a mental person, throwing fists and jumping around. I was angrier than a horse that has been hit. As suddenly as it had come, my anger evaporated. A thin slit of bright sunlight came from up above. I could see outside. Yes! I thought gleefully. I was beginning to wake up. I once again became one with my body and I was no longer a bystander. It felt good to be part of myself again.
I blinked my eyes several times, trying to get the sleep to leave my weary eyes. I raised up an arm to wipe the little specks of sand from my eyes. I looked around the pure white hospital room and I was disappointed. I don’t really know if it was because I thought no one seemed to care that I was here or the fact that no one was in here, waiting for me to wake up. Silent tears began to fall and I did nothing to stop them.”I knew no one wanted me back. There wasn’t even a reason for me to come back.” I cried silently.
Then there was a clatter of glass against floor and a loud gasp. I peered over to see my mother standing there. She looked horrible. There were gray bags under her eyes that looked like someone had severely punched her. She had been carrying a huge cup of black coffee that had now spilt over at least 5 feet of the white crystal like floor. “Mary, your up.” her voice was surprised but glad. She almost like flew over toward me and wrapped me in a huge, breath taking hug. I could barely breath she was hugging me so tight.
“Mom, your choking me.” was all that I could get out.
“Oh yes, sorry dear.” and she reluctantly let go of me. Then her face became stern. “Mary, why are you trying to get up? You have just waken up from a really long sleep, you need to lay down so that you can regain your strength.”
“But, mom, I’ve been asleep for too long. Wait. Exactly how long have I been asleep?” I inquired
“Well,” she hesitated. “You’ve been in a coma for 4 months. The doctors said that we should just give up on you because if you didn’t wake up soon then there was just no hope. Your father argued for a long while and I was continually telling them to keep out of it. I was sure that you would come back. Everyone back at the stables are missing you.” my mother explained, but I could see that she was holding something back. It was he way that her eyes kept looking away from mine continuously. She only made eye contact for no longer than 5 seconds.
“Mom, what are you hiding. I can tell when you’re lying mom, so it’s no use trying to get anything past me.” my mouth became unusually dry and my throat became tight.
“Well, you see sweetie,” she hesitated. “It’s Misty. She came out of the race really badly. She could breath right, even after cooling her out and letting her stay in her stall and rest for the rest of the stay. Her breathing was really labored and her heart was working overtime.” she stopped there, as if trying to decide whether or not this was all to much to take in. She had apparently decided that I needed to know. “She was in a lot of pain Mary. We had to put her down or she would have had breathing problems the rest of her life, not to mention heart attacks.” Mom said this bit rather quickly.
I was stunned for a moment. No, this can’t of happened. It has to be a joke. Yeah, that’s right , a joke! I hopefully thought. “Mom, don’t joke with me like that. It is absolutely not funny!” I scolded her. My face was red with anger and it felt like I was about to blow.
“Mary, I’m not kidding. Misty is gone. I’m so sorry.” mom sadly informed me.
“No, this can’t be happening. No!!!” I sobbed continuously. I pounded my fists on the bed numerous times, trying to let my anger out but more just built up.
“I’m so sorry honey.” my mom comforted as she came over to pat me on the back.
“Get away from me.” I muttered threateningly.
My mom moved away from me, but she had the look as though someone had slapper her. It was as if she couldn’t believe that I had just pushed her away like that. This was all her fault. Misty would still be here if it wasn’t for mom taking Misty to the race. I knew something bad was going to happen, but my mom just called it off as being nervous. I knew that she was wrong.
“This is all your fault.”I accused.
“My..... how can this be my fault?” she inquired.
“I said that I didn’t want to bring Misty to the race. I told you that something wasn’t right. I felt that something was going to happen, but no. you just called it off as simple before race nerves. Well, does this look like I was wrong? Does it look like I was just nervous? Misty is gone and it’s all because of you.” I exclaimed harshly. My voice was cold and heartless as I said all that, but I didn’t care. She deserved every bit of it.
“Mary, I didn’t do this and you know I didn’t. Misty loved to race and she can’t stand being a loser, even when she was at home racing the other foals, you knew that she was a horse that would run it’s heart out.” my mom tried to tell me, but I didn’t care. Now she was blaming this on Misty.
“Get out.” I murmured venomously. My voice was like a poison penetrating my mothers heart. Tears began to slide down her face and she tried to hug me. “I said get out!!” I roared. The pictures on the walls of past idiots shook. Some fell, hitting the floor with a loud clunk. The window panes shook with fury, as if threatening to break. My mother jumped back, as though frightened that I might attack.
“Mary....” she began, but it was no use. I wouldn’t let her continue.
“I said get out. I hate you.” I angrily whispered.
My mother was a little taken aback, but she obliged. “Fine, I’ll go, but don’t expect for you to have a home to come back to.” my mom retorted and she slumped out of the room.
“Serves you right! If you hadn’t of pushed me I wouldn’t be angry with you!” I called after her, but to reply came. She was gone and I was on m own. It would all be ok. I could fend for myself, I mean I was 15, and I bet that I could get a job somewhere. I thought brightly. Yeah, this would all be alright in the end, and with that thought, I slipped off into another deep sleep.
“Hello miss. Wake up, come on, it’s time to eat.” A cheerful and almost weird voice informed me. My eyes fluttered open like beautiful butterfly wings. I was looking at a tall, skinny, blond woman that wore a white nurses gown. She had startling blue eyes, but they were soft and kind.
She grabbed a hold of my arm gently and lifted me up slowly so that I was leaning against the pillows on my soft white bed. Then she handed me a tray of food that contained jell-O, some eggs and bacon, and some 2% white milk. The food was good for being hospital food. Sure, it wouldn’t have been my first choice of items, but it was ok. The yellow sun yolk of the cooked eggs just like melted in my moth and the crispy bacon was nice and crispy. Not to mention the ice cold milk washed it all down wonderfully. I didn’t touch the red, jiggly jell-O though. No way. I had heard that it was made of horses hooves. What a terrible thing, not to mention glue being made out of them as well. Disgusting!
Suddenly, there was a soft knock at the door. I panicked. Who would be visiting me? I thought. “Hello?” I answered to the knock
“May I come in?” called the voice. It was a guy and he sounded really familiar, but I couldn’t place him.
“Yeah, come in.” I replied. I wonder who it is. I pondered while I stared at my hands, trying to recall that voice.
The door opened and I heard footsteps come over to the side of my bed. “Hey what’s up stranger?” he asked jokingly. I peered up at him and then it dawned on me. It was John, the stable hand at A Winners Home. It was the stable that my parents owned.
“John!” I jumped up and gave him a huge hug. He had been carrying flowers but the fell. I looked at his face and he looked really surprised at first, but he soon smiled and hugged me back. “How is everyone at the stables? Are the horses ok?” I rambled on.
“Wait up, I can’t keep up with you.” he replied. “The horses are fine and everyone is missing you at home. We can’t wait for you to come back.” he informed.
“Well, that’s all good. I hope to come home soon. Tell everyone that I miss them and that I can’t wait to be back. I should be leaving this place in about 2 weeks.” I lied. I couldn’t bear to tell John that couldn’t come back. I had always liked John, he was one of my greatest friends at the stable, but it hadn’t always been like that.
I remember when he had only worked at home for only 3 months. I had hated him. He was 15 and I was 11. He gained the attention of everyone because of his good looks. He had pitch black short hair and striking green eyes. He was about 5'11". All the girl stable hands would just stare at him every time he came by and my mom was always too busy teaching him stuff about the farm. It had only changed when John had saved my life.
Flashback:
It was my very first time to learn how to train a racehorse. His name was rocket. He was a beautiful black and white thoroughbred that had some training, but not much.
I walked into his stall and met his great big face. He was 15 hands high and a real beauty. He showed a lot of potential, sure, he was still green, but he was one of the fastest horses here. “Hey big guy, what have you been up to?” I wondered. He had a sort of mischievous look in his eyes. I grabbed the light, sleek, black English saddle that I had brought with me and gently laid it on his sleek back. I didn’t tighten the girth yet because I still needed to get a saddle pad and brush him down.
I slowly led him out of his brown, pine stall and led him over toward the crossties. I took off the saddle and set it on a nearby bench. I grabbed a horse brush and began to gently brush Rocket’s coat. I made smooth strokes and by the time I was finished, his coat gleamed like a newly polished gem. He seemed very content with the way he looked. He always did think rather highly of himself. I set the saddle pad on his back and gently replaced the saddle. Then I took off his halter and slipped the black bridle over his huge head. He gratefully accepted the bit.
I took the reins and gently pulled forward. Rocket walked forward eagerly. Just then the 16 year old John came into the barn and stared at me. “Mary, are you sure that you should try and train Rocket? He is a little green and you don’t have much experience.” he warned.
“Don’t worry about me, John. You’ve got all the pretty girls to worry about, or at least they think so.” I spit out.
“Come on Mary, it’s not a real good idea.” he persisted.
He just would not give up would he? “Look, I don’t need your opinion. I think that Rocket can be trained quickly and I have to try. This is my idea and whether you like it or not, I will take things my way.” I reminded him as I hurried out of site.
