“That’s just like my mama and me. We were always walking along a river, when I was little. It was just the two of us trying to throw away our troubles. I have dreams about walking up rivers.”
“Child, you need to sing this song. I mean it. Really sing it from your heart. Let your mama hear you.”
“Like I said, I can’t sing.”
“Now that ain’t true. Everyone can sing.” Meadowlark laughed. “And how you know you didn’t get your daddy’s voice?” Maizie just shrugged. “Maybe God gave you your father’s talent.”
Starting to play the piano, Meadowlark turned to Maizie. “I’s gonna teach you, Maizie. We’s sho’ gonna fill your empty heart with song.”
Chapter 40
Qualifying
August 6, 1931
There was a buzz of excitement all over the backside as the match races drew close, only two days to go. The time trials for six Glidewell horses were scheduled for mid-morning. Only four would qualify for the Glidewell team. After early-morning warm-ups the horses were with their groomers. The riders were readying themselves for their qualifying time trials. There was a seriousness in the air, and no one was more serious than James. There was a problem brewing, and James was on it.
“Chief, glad I found you,” James said after spending a good deal of time on the hunt for his stable hand.
“That so?”
“I need to talk with you.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Yep, Capp told me. Told me what the boys were saying.”
“He did? What did he say?”
“He said I can’t race. The boys don’t like it. That’s why I’m here with Paint.”
“And?”
“I’m tellin’ Paint he’s gonna be a star. War Paint likes it. Capp says he needs me to put on a show during the parade. Do a few stunts. Make the crowd holler.”
“You all right with not running in the match races?”
“I’d like to race Morning Glory, but like Capp said, it ain’t fair to ride with no saddle. But I ain’t ridin’ with a saddle. Not natural. So Paint and I will show our stuff. That’s what we’ll do.”
James put his hand on the chief’s shoulder and gave it a good pat. “Thanks, Chief.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank Capp. He gave me five dollars for not hollerin’ about gettin’ scratched. Never turned down five dollars in my life.”
At mid-morning all the horses and riders made ready for the time trials that would determine their position in the draw or their elimination from representing Glidewell on Saturday.
A loud whistle from Wil caught their attention. It was time to move to the start. First man up was Capp, who mounted and rode slowly to the dreaded barrier. The starting barrier consisted of eight parallel ropes set two or three inches apart, looking similar to a fence. The ropes, attached to springs, went straight up over the horse and rider’s head when the start lever was pulled. Capp began to feel anticipatory angst as he waited.
“Capp, you ready?” said Wil.
“Yep, but not sure about Running Wild. Barrier makes him nervous.”
“Same for everybody, son.”
“But not everybody has a horse like Wild here.”
“You been practicin’. You’ll be fine.”
“Yeh, and this horse doesn’t like things flying up in front of him. He’s startin’ to balk. He got so bad yesterday, I had to run him to calm him down.”
With stopwatches in hand, James approached the father and son. “Ready? Here’s your watch, Wil.” Wil took the watch, stopping and starting it to test that it was working properly. “Hope that horse of yours is ready to run,” said James.
Capp adjusted his hat, held tight to the reins, and stood briefly in his stirrups. Wild suddenly backed up and then lifted his front legs off the ground, catching Capp off guard. “Easy boy,” he said softly. “Whoa, boy.”
“Looks like the horse is still upset. I’m depending on you to win this match-race weekend, but first you have to qualify, Capp.”
Capp looked at James, anger evident on his face. “I know. Believe me, I know. You want a win. You need a win.” He removed his hat and rubbed the top of his head, his curls seeming to frolic, enjoying a moment of freedom. “I wish you had consulted with me before you purchased this dang barrier.”
Capp slid off his saddle and pulled on the halter. But again the horse was spooked and snorted. “Easy boy. It’s all right. Easy.” Capp began stroking the stallion’s neck, and Wild, feeling soothed, settled into a calmer stance.
“Seems everyone uses barriers these days,” James said. “I bought the one most recommended.”
“Everyone that don’t know nothing about a spirited horse, I bet. The thing could get us disqualified.”
Wil, shaking his head at the pre-run banter stepped in and said, “Hey, you two. We got a time trial to run. Relax. Capp, you know what to do. Just ride that pony hard and smart.”
“Got it, Dad. All this talk has me nervous.”
Wil tapped Capp on his leg and smiled. “I have confidence in the two of you, Capp.”
James wished he felt the same. “Good luck,” he said, hoping to sound sincere.
Capp was uneasy. As he and Wild approached the barrier, Wild’s ears flicked back and forth. “Easy, fella.” He urged the horse up to the ropes. Wild balked. Capp tapped his flank. The horse lowered and shook his head. Capp patted him on the neck. The horse snorted, and Capp leaned over his saddle horn and talked into Wild’s right ear. “Good boy. That’s a good boy. Easy, big fella.”
Wild, without warning, reared high on his hind legs and threw Capp to the ground. Capp yelled expletives, stood, dusted off his pants and Stetson, and attempted to climb back into the saddle as Wild turned in a circle, making a mount difficult. Capp could hear James yelling from the finish line, “Dang it, Capp! Control that horse!” Capp ignored James’ less-than-helpful comment and got
