Fleeting Doubt - Commission

Fleeting Doubt

I could feel the hooves of my competitors shift against the ground, the gates beside me clanging as the muscled rumps of the other horses shied nervously. My freshly groomed, dappled gray coat gleamed in the spots of sun that came through the metal.

“In gate four, it's Michael Hill atop Joey's Fleeting Doubt.” I heard my name boomed across the track in the announcer's odd warbled voice. Joey was the name of the man who owned my mother, and 'fleeting doubt' came from my scrawny not-race-material appearance. I was weak as a foal, and trained late, but when they finally did set me onto the training track, their doubts certainly were fleeting.

I stayed still, calm and waiting. I had a reputation in the barn for being cool-headed and a quick learner.
I also always wanted to win.

The gates clanged open and I took off without a second thought, a couple strides ahead of a massive black stallion.
His name was Coal Train. I had overheard my owners talking about him. He would be my biggest competition in this race.

I flew, hooves barely touching the ground. I wanted to run as fast and far as I could, but my jockey said no, holding my head back. I obeyed as I was taught to do and focused on keeping my gait steady.
I felt more than saw Coal Train come up beside me. His wide hooves beat on the ground much like a train as he pulled ahead of me.
He lived his namesake well.
I despised the dirt his feet cast into my face but waited – always waiting – for my riders instructions.

We had the inside rail as we turned the first bend – a very good place to be. I was fourth at this point, Coal Train holding the lead.
The sound of hooves around me was deafening, but it felt amazing, natural, to be running with a herd, even if they weren't my heard.

A lean bay filly ahead of me name Little Miss's Wish slowed, losing energy as we neared the second bend and I easily moved into third. We rounded the turn and I felt my rider tense the smallest bit in anticipation of what we called 'The Run', the last stretch in the race where the battle to place occurred.
I was ready now, excited. Known for speeding around corners like a race car, my rider's hands loosened on the reins and slid up my neck as he released his head. I rocketed forward as the horses near me slowed to turn, weaving around Damsel Not In Distress and went for Coal Train, the only thing left in the way of my win.

His eyes rolled back in his head to examine me as he saw me rushing up beside him and he sped up easily, his legs longer than mine. I snorted in irritation.
If it was a battle he wanted, it was a battle he was going to get.

The announcer babbled the close race in his ever so odd voice but I paid no attention, the cheers of the crowd all fading into white noise as Coal Train and I pulled farther from the heard on the final stretch.

The finish was in sight now. Our breath labored, both of us weary but neither willing to give up any speed.
Suddenly the camera flashed as we sped past the finish and I felt something heavy and solid knock against my leg.
In a second I was tumbling towards the ground, all my momentum now sending me down at an alarming rate.
The cheers that had erupted from the crowd as I passed the finish were cut off as I went down. I felt my rider roll under me with a surprised, pained shout. My legs twisted under me with a sickening noise an my face slammed against the ground. People rushed over as soon as the jockey managed to crawl from underneath my mass. I lay still, trying to get my bearings.
My face ached, but that was nothing compared to the searing pain in my front leg. I tried to stand but only fell again, causing a few gasps of horror. My head swam with the pain.
What had happened?
Did I win?
Why couldn't I stand?!

The woman who owned me, Miss Jane, came over and asked in a shocked voice;

"It's broken?"
I knew what that word, 'broken', meant. Broken meant no more racing, broken made horses be taken away and never come back, broken killed horses like me.
I couldn't think, couldn't breathe. My leg felt wet and hot, still throbbing with the most intense pain I'd ever felt.
I didn't want to be broken!

I tried to stand again which only cause shouts of "Hold him down!" and hands pressed firmly against my side.

Miss Jane and Michael were talking to a man who wore a long white coat and smelled of medicine. Miss Jane's face was wet. My vision was hazy with pain, and red with blood from where the blinkers cut my face when I tumbled.

"Can't you do anything?" Miss Jane asked.
"I'm sorry, but the bone is shattered. He's in a lot of pain." The medicine man responded.

The medicine man moved behind me and he stroked my neck in a way he thought to be soothing. My skin twitched at a small prick and some of the pain ebbed away, but it was still overpoweringly strong, causing me to shake and my breath to heave.
Miss Jane and Michael sat on the dirt track beside me, some of Miss Jane's tears falling onto my face.

"Joey," Miss Jane called me by my nickname. "You're such a good horse..." Michael was crying too, his head bowed, as he patted my neck.
I could feel it; I was going to die. The man in the long white coat was going to kill me. The girth was loosened and the saddle pulled from my back. I took a huge, shuddering breath.

"You won, Joey." Michael said through his tears. "You won."
The medicine man was behind me again and I felt another tiny prick.
Miss Jane was still telling me how good of a horse I had been as my thoughts slowed and my eyes grew heavy. I liked knowing that. And I had won for her.
Something tugged at me and I resisted for a moment. I didn't want to go. Miss Jane and Michael had been good friends and leaving them made me sad.

"Go run in wide open fields, Joey." Miss Jane said to me, stroking my nose as I closed my eyes.
My nostrils flared as I smelled green grass. I tossed my head and stood up, looking down at Miss Jane holding my head in her lap. I nibbled on her hair as I often did as a hello and turned, ears pricked and pranced off, looking back only once before running from the track and the pain, into those wide open fields Miss Jane talked about, moving faster than even the wind.







                                 

End