The King.

Chapter 7

Today was it!

The day!

The day I ran my race- The day I ran the Kentucky Derby. The day I embarked on my adventure for the triple crown.

Today was the day that would start my legacy, the day everyone would remember as Kings day.

"Wake up wake up wake up wake uuuup!" I was woken up, before it was even light out, to Rosy singing this as she skipped in, as she always does. "Wake up horseys! Rise 'n shine! Its almost daytime!" She giggled, and each horse would slowly lift out of their slumber, stir in their stalls, some even snorting in complaint. A horse head would slowly appear between the bars of every stall they were contained in as she would sing this to watch the stunning young girl, whom had grown much already, as she skipped down the isle. Somehow, at 5 o' clock in the morning, such a little creature was so lively. And we would all watch her sing and dance, warmth growing in our hearts. There was no better way to start the day then to watch her twirl and giggle and dance and sing, for all of the horses loved little Rosy. Even the most mean, ornery horses had a soft spot for her.

"Today is the day King runs a important race! Important, important, important!" She sang some more, and my ears flicked forward, my head lifting more. Might as well start getting ready.

I stretched my legs out, one by one, as far as the walls of the spacious, luxerious stalls would allow.  Then I place both front hooves far in front of me, leaning onto my hing legs, stretching out my back like a cat, followed by a yawn. I tossed my head, snorting softly, trudging back up to the door. Peering in the isleway as Rosy slowed to a stop in front of my stall, giggling and bouncing onto her toes, reaching her hand into it, and I pressed my soft muzzle into her palm, my whiskers tickling her hand. My master and his wife rounded the corner, into the barn. Click, Clack, Click, Clack.. Went her heels, with much less urgency then normal. Both looked absolutley exaughsted, so I assumed they could not rest that night.

"Darling, not so loud..." Sarah sighed, her bright, glossy red lips turned down into a frown, rubbing her temples, shaking her head. "It's far too early for that, deary." It was obvious she was trying her best to be polite to everyone. She blinked, then looked up, gazing around the spacious barn. She walked, hand in hand, with James, all the way down to my stall, stopping before it, staring at me with expectancy.

"Yes, Momma!" Rosy sang, just as loud as before, which made a smile twitch at both the adults mouths, probably the first of the morning. I licked Rosys hand, which made her giggle. Then she pulled her tiny hand from the space between the bars, and I tossed my head in complaint. I saw James smiling with pride at me, and Sarah doing a mix between a smile and a dazed face. James hair was a mess as usual, but even Sarah looked a bit unkempt. Not to blame her, this was going to be a very, very stressful day. I looked down at Rosy, who was over at the stall directly in front of us, standing on her toes, trying as hard as she could to reach the horses nose in front of her, which was high up in slight shock, staring down at the little girl. Rosys tongue was stuck out in concentration, her fingers wiggling, and the horse slowly lowered his head, then thrusted its muzzle into her palm. Oh, I wish she would never grow up. Never, ever.

"Rosy, dear, why don't you go see Missy?.." James said warily, watching her with concern. She stiffened, slowly moving her hand from the horses muzzle. She lowered onto her flat feet, and when she spoke, her voice lost all song and happiness.

"No thank you, Daddy." It seemed her tone had been drained, and my ears flickered back. Why did she hate Missy? Missy was a great pony... James sighed in frustration, running his fingers through his messy hair, making it even more messy.

"Fine. Well, why don't you go and find Joe for me." He looked over at Sarah, which gave him a look of sympathy, leaning on his shoulder slightly.

"Yes daddy." She turned, and instead of skipping, she walked out of the barn, the only sound was her dress swishing against her legs, for even the horses fell silent. The tension was so strong I felt like I could touch it.

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"One... Two... Three..." I heard right beside me, and saw from the corner of my eyes, Howard trying to give poor Steven a leg up. He pumped Stevens leg up, and as he tried to swing it over the side of me, Howard had pushed too much, because he tumbled off the other side. "Oh! My lord... I'm sorry! I'm really, really, really sorry..." Howard started speaking quickly, hurrying over to my other side to the groaning Steven. 

James was holding my reins, but he was deep in conversation with Sarah, oblivious to the trainwreck right beside him, and Rosy was twirling around at her mothers side, her cheery mood returning, her dress fanning out around her. A small amount of weight on my back indicated that Howard had managed to push Steven onto my back, and I turned my head. Steven grinned at me, giving me a thumbs up, and then adjusted the weights on the saddle a little bit, pulling down his goggles. He was too light, and a little bit of extra weight had to be added to make it fair. He pulled down his goggles with one hand, another shaking hand holding my reins. Everyone was nervous today, huh? Then I looked at Howard, brushing his coat off, glancing up at me, then Steven, and then James and Sarah. I nickered in amusent, then James turned to me and Steven.

"Okay, Steven. You know the drill. Hold him back a little in the beginning, then a little before halfway, let him open up. Crop him just a little, but just try to get him away from the other horses as soon as possible. Okay?" James said very quickly, glancing at his watch, and Steven had a bored look, clearly being told this many times. I nickered softly again, nudging James side, and he placed a hand on my forehead, scratching it in circles, thrusting his hand back in his pocket, looking back up at Steven. Smiling, he patted his leg, nodding slowly. "Good luck." He murmured, and Steven wheeled me around, and we began to walk towards the track, a gait in which my energy could not be contained, trotting a few trot steps every now and then, each time Steven made me stop.

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By now I was more used to the gates (more like cages, if you ask me.). It was burning hot out here, and my neck was already slightly damp with sweat. I leaned back on the hot, metal bar behind me, nervously trying to look at the other horses. Noises swarmed in my ears.... People chatting, horses neighing, gates clanging shut, horses kicking the bars. My ears pinned back to block them out, and Steven stroked my neck gently, murmuring something soothingly that I couldn't make out over the noise. I snorted a few times, trying to toss my head, feeling like the bars were creeping closer and closer, the claustaphobia gripping at my heart.

 The loud, over-joyful sound of the man on the loud speaker came on, saying something incoherent, and I tensed. The raised was about to begin.

RRRRiiIiIIiInNNnnNgGggGggg!!!

Gates flew open, and sleek, slim horses exploded out of them, their legs outstreched, their heads high, their eyes widened. They clumped in front of the gate, and I was about in the middle. I could feel us bumping into horses around us, as we were all packed tight for a few moments, listening to the hissing complaints of the other jockeys. As we continued along, we spaced out.

I pulled ahead of one, two, three... And the others I couldn't count, we were going so fast. But I knew not to take the lead just yet, and Steven was holding me so I couldn't. Dirt flew at my face from the horses hooves in front of me, but I didn't care. Me and Steven began bobbing and weaving through the group of horses, and as soon as my reins slackened, I knew.

It was time.

I shot forward in a burst of speed, flying past the more horses, cutting the distance between the other horses and first place. The crowd roared as I flew by, but I ignored them, trying to focus.

It no longer felt like I was running. It felt like I was soaring over the sand and around the corner, my feet hardly touching the ground. Steven leaned farther forward, and I lengthened my stride more, beginning to pant, but not feeling too tired. Adrenaline was coursing through my blood, my pulse hammering, and I felt alive.

Soon enough, I was neck-and-neck with the gray in first, and I could almost see the finish line. Races are short enough by themselves, but when you're running in them, they feel like they're over in a heartbeat. Me and Steven were struggling against this gray, but slowly pulling ahead, and soon, he was at my hip.

By the time it was over, my tail was touching that grays nose, and I had just won first place. My heart soared as Steven sat up in the saddle, pumping his hands and cheering.