The Final Furlong - Part One

By Sandra Whipple

It was the time of half light and they watched and waited. The time would be soon. Slate gray clouds, pushed along by a flowing wind, scudded across the sky. Jose crouched low and down over his mount's back as they thundered around the final turn, the horse's hooves beating a rhythmic cadence in the soft earth. As the jockey pushed his mount for more speed, the first raindrops hit his face like gunshot. Jose gritted his teeth in determination. He knew Goldenrod did not like running in the rain and so he pushed the horse to respond. As he felt the horse gather his strength, Jose felt the adrenalin rush through his body.

As they turned into the homestretch, Jose felt a sudden icy blast hit him full in the chest. Goldenrod began to slow, twisting his head, fighting for control. Jose fought against the muscle and will of half a ton of horse and then he felt his spine grow cold and numb horror fill him, his arms growing rigid in terror.

"No!" he screamed, letting go of the reins.

He attempted to shield his face and felt Goldenrod dip and dance to the side, letting out a scream of terror as he reared. Then, everything went black and all that was left was the howling wind.

"I don't understand," Emily protested as she leaned against the stall door. "There's a perfectly good track, a real race track, not more than five miles from here. Why can't we take Top Hat over there?"

Danny, the assistant stable manager, lifted a bale of hay and stacked it against the barn wall. He turned to the young girl, shooting her a pained look.

"Your Uncle Henry doesn't like to trailer the horses unless he absolutely has to."

He turned back to his work. Emily toyed with the end of a lead rope to a halter.

"But we could ride Top Hat over there," she argued. "It would be a good warm up for him."

Danny spun around, an incredulous look on his face. "Five miles?" He shook his head as he stacked the final bale of hay and then stripped off his gloves to wipe his brow. "You don't ride a first class racing thoroughbred like Top Hat five miles and call it a warm up. His most difficult race was nearly two miles."

Emily pushed herself away from the door and twirled the rope. "I just don't understand Uncle Henry sometimes. He uses that awful half-track out in the orchard when we could use the old Arlington racetrack."

Danny sighed, feeling slightly exasperated. "Emily," he said patiently, as if talking to a small child. "You are here for the summer. It wouldn't be good to go around and start trying to change the way things run here. I don't know if you have noticed," this time there was a smirk on his face. "But your uncle can be pretty stubborn."

Emily walked over to the open barn door and looked out over the paddocks. Horses dotted the landscape and she sighed. Her uncle's racing stables were well known all over Virginia and having the opportunity to spend the summer with her aunt and uncle was a dream come true for her. Having loved horses all her life, she never thought that she would be able to spend the whole summer around them, learning the art of training and racing. Emily turned back to Danny, a puzzled expression in her blue eyes.

"Danny," she asked in a somewhat hesitant tone. "Why did the old Arlington grounds close? What happened?"

"No one goes there," a gruff voice remarked and Emily whirled around to see Charlie, the old stable manager. He had once been a jockey in the forties, racing against great horses like Citation and Whirlaway. Even though he was nearly eighty, his short frame was still muscular and stocky. "No one goes there," he repeated through gritted teeth.

Emily stared at him, frowning. "Why? What happened?"

Charlie peered at her, his watery blue eyes darkening with annoyance. "I don't have time to be storytelling." He turned to Danny. "Get Top Hat saddled. Henry wants him ready to go in ten minutes."

Danny gave the older man a mock salute and disappeared into the darkness of the barn. Emily watched him go and then turned back to see Charlie peering at her with an accusing look in his eyes. They seemed to ask a thousand questions; who was she? Why was she prying into long ago affairs? What did she want?

Charlie leaned in closer, pointing a stubby and gnarled finger at Emily. "You just stay away from the Arlington," he whispered fiercely. "Ain't nothin' there for a young college girl."

"Why? What is that place hiding?" Emily knew she might be pushing the limits, but her natural curiosity was getting the better of her.

Charlie seemed to shake himself mentally, almost as if he had said too much. "That place is a ruin and it's dangerous and..."

Emily motioned for him to continue. "And?"

Charlie looked over Emily's shoulder, off into the distance. "It's been deserted for nearly sixty years. It's them things there. It should have been torn down years ago." A shadow of fear crossed his face. "Years ago," he whispered.

Emily frowned as she saw Charlie's face go pale. "Are you all right?"

Charlie stiffened at the hand that Emily reached out to him and shrugged her off. "I got work to do. Don't have not time to be mooning about the past and telling stories." He spun on his heel and stalked off, leaving Emily feeling shaky and confused.

What had happened at the Arlington? Why didn't her uncle want to use it? Most of all, what did Charlie mean by "things there"? Letting out a sigh, she turned and went into the barn to help Danny. Somehow, she felt he knew the answers she was seeing and she was bound and determined to find out what happened at the Arlington all those years ago.