Twilight Race

          Twilight Race

Suzanne Marsh

The small bay mare stood grazing quietly, abruptly raised her head, her ears straining. She galloped over to the fence when she heard her owner whistle and call her name. Tom Butler loved the small mare, he had raised her from a foal. Tom lived at Rosemount, a beautiful plantation just outside of Natchez, Mississippi. Tom strode over to where the small bay mare stood, she galloped off, he whistled, she came over, waiting to snuggle Tom with her soft velvety nose. Tom, the strode into the main entrance of the plantation where he was greeted by his Mammy. She grumbled:

“Where you been boy? Your pa is waitin for you in the library. You better go see him right

quick.”

Tom sighed, every time pa wanted to talk to him it meant he had sold something else off of the plantation. The old man was a notorious gambler: Tom knocked on the heavy oaken door:

“Come on in boy, we need to talk.” Tom dreaded those words, he knew that whatever scheme the old man was involved it would put Rosemount in jeopardy. He felt his heart stop:

“Pa, what have you done this time?” The white haired man stood by the open window:

“There is a horse race commin up and you are riddin in it. That little Morgan mare is

fast, I done mortgaged the house to cover the bet. Boy, you gotta win, you hear me

you just gotta. Your ma is gonna be madder than a scalded hen, if we lose the

plantation, it’s been in her family seems like forever.” Tom wondered if the old man had finally lost his mind:

“Pa, that little mare can no more out run a stallion than you can. She ain’t even saddle broken

yet. When is the race pa? The old man gave him a half smile:

“We got a month, can you break her by then?”

“I ain’t makin a promise I can’t keep pa. I will try, that is all I can do. Who are we

racing against?” Tom said a silent prayer, if it was Ben Wilks he wouldn’t stand a chance. Ben owned a beautiful black stallion that could out run and horse in the county. The old man sat glumly:

“You are going to be racin Ben Wilks and whoever else enters the race.” Tom could feel the fear rising:

“Pa, why? You know as well as I do that Ben has the fastest horse in the county, why would

you bet the plantation on the little mare?” The old man was becoming angry, suddenly he turned and slapped the boy across his face, leaving the imprint of his large hand. The boy stood still glaring at his father, the man who had just slapped his face:

“Okay pa, I’ll ride the little mare, then I am leaving Rosemount forever.” The boy strode toward the door and did not look back. The old man stared after him, he had gotten what he wanted, the boy to ride the mare. That little filly was going to get the plantation back on its feet with money to spare.

Tom, walked slowly down the lush green path toward the paddock where the small mare stood her ears back listening. Tom, had broken horses since he was twelve but the mare, she was different, he had to be very gentle with her. She waited, as he extended his hand with a small piece of apple on it. She loved apples, he had been doing this hoping to gentle her, then he would start by putting a bridle on her, then the saddle. The moment Tom strode into the paddock, the little mare began to trot away from him. He moved toward her with a bridle, she galloped away. He continued to coax her toward him, with bites of apple. Slowly she made her way over to him, she was wary of him.

Slowly but surely, she began to trust Tom, and he placed a saddle on her back. She bucked and kicked but the saddle stayed on her back. Tom was inclined to think that the little mare might just win the race. Tom was a little under six feet, his weight was under one hundred and forty pounds. He knew he was to tall to ride the small mare, then he thought about his sister Emily, she was petite and not afraid to ride a horse.

Tom headed back to the plantation house, he entered, went to the schoolroom on the third floor where Emily was studying. Tom smiled a the tutor, Miss Hasbrook, as he entered the room. Miss Hasbrook pout down the book and returned Tom’s smile. Tom noticed that Emily was turning into a beautiful young woman she was three years younger than he. He had conspired with Emily before, but this was going to have to be their secret:

“Em, pa put the plantation up on bet, on a horse race, that little Morgan mare against Ben Wilks

big black stallion. That horse ain’t never lost a race. I need your help to gentle her, worse

you might have to disguise yourself to look like me. I think I am be to long legged to ride

her. Will you help me Em?”

Emily nodded, she told Miss Hasbrook she would return later to finish the lesson. She ran to her bedroom, changed from the simple calico dress to riding breaches she had hidden in the bottom of the closet, it would not be a good thing if Mammy were to find them. They slowly descended the main staircase, opened the door as quietly as they could, then headed for the paddock. Tom, had an apple in his pocket for the mare. He handed a slice of apple to Em, she walked over to the mare, placed an arm around her neck. Tom’s eyes widened in surprise:

“Em, you been workin with her?”

“No, but I have gotten her to come to me. If you get me a bridle and bit I can get it in her

mouth.”

Tom ran off to snatch a bridle and bit, also a saddle. The mare responded well to Em, they worked most of the day.

The day of the race was sultry, the air still, there was no breeze, not weather conducive to a horse race. Tom, waited patiently as Em dressed. Her hair tucked under her large brimmed man’s hat. Tom, helped her into the saddle, the mounted his own horse, together they rode to the pasture where the race was to begin at noon. There were at least twenty five competitors, Tom glanced around to see who else was there and how much of a threat they were to Em and the mare. Then Ben Wilks rode up, the black stallion whinnied then began to paw the ground. The contestants lined up, Tom held the little mare still; until he was sure that Em had control of her, then he slipped silently away into the crowd. He scanned the area for his pa, no sign yet, that did not seem right. The man had placed the title for the plantation up as a stake in the race. He had to be there somewhere, Tom began to search, finally he spotted the old man’s white hair, he headed back in the direction from which he had come.

The shot was fired to begin the race, Em and the mare took off. The mare gained ground quickly, Em could hear Ben chuckling as she rode past him. Then Ben gave the stallion his head, it was to late, the mare had the lead and kept it. When the race was complete, Em dismounted quickly; Tom quickly climbed up. He trotted the mare over, to where his pa was standing. The old man was glad the mare had won, with the prize money, he was going to give to his wife to make Rosemount once again the proud plantation she had been.