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Mike and Marco sped toward each other, deliriously happy and crying for joy. Mike's gratitude knew no bounds; he
was so grateful to have his health and job back. Both men dropped to their knees, faces to the floor. Mike knew
he didn't deserve to be healed, but wasn't about to question it. He was profoundly humbled by the love just shown him.
The nurse was dumbfounded. Other nurses peeked in at the commotion and walked away bewildered, or stood just inside
the door with mouths agape. All of them had compassionated the suffering the two men had endured the last several months.
To see them whole and entire deadened their senses.
By the end of the next day, after physicals and x-rays, Mike and Marco were in the process of being discharged.
Every physician on staff wanted to see the before and after films. There was no trace of the fractures. Dr.
Brackett deemed the mens' healing a miracle.
Mike and Marco's apartments had been cared for by their crewmates, who went so far as to restock the refrigerators for
their homecomings. As Mike sat on his own couch, he pondered how he had begged Betsy to help him drive again.
He supposed he had his answer now. He still couldn't believe he was cured; sitting in his own apartment; and wondered
if his situation was still a dream.
His thoughts wandered back to a comforting visit he had received from Mrs. Bragen and Mr. David--Betsy's former
bosses--after her passing. Both were very complementary of her abilities. Mr. David went as far to say he
regretted not putting Betsy on Hunny in a race--she had had such a way with him. No one else in the barn had wanted
to deal with the tempermental chestnut, but Betsy had turned him into a docile puppy.
Mike found himself staring at the nearly empty wall to his left, and supposed he could find a new home on another
wall for the American LaFrance Metropolitan steamer engine picture. Before he knew it, he was shaking with sobs--the
mere thought of creating some kind of sacred space for Betsy's memory was almost too much to bear. Perhaps it was too
soon--or too close to the emotions of the dream.
Speaking of LaFrance, what had become of their Ward LaFrance? A quick call to Cap, who explained
that the engine was still in the shop, awaiting replacement of the cab, pump, and pump panel. Their old
Crown was back at Station 51. Mike felt a sense of security when he heard that.
Cap suggested that Mike and Marco travel with him to Kentucky, so Mike could see the places that Betsy had
hallowed. The town; the Stanley residence; the fire department; everything was the same as in his dream. There
were even signs still up in business windows--and some homes--recalling Betsy's memory. One was a parody on a popular
song: Ride, Betsy, ride/Upon your mystery horse. . .
When Mike, Cap, and Marco arrived at the cemetary, they found the Future Jockettes sitting on their heels at Betsy's
grave. Their horses were tethered at the fence overlooking KY 245. One of the FJs was playing a guitar as all
four sang. Mike didn't recognize the tune. The men stayed at the car.
The FJs finished, and without looking up, went back to their horses, the guitarist pushing her instrument to her back.
Their pastel shirts bore their names--Callie Sue was the guitarist and wore pink; Opal, green; Jolie, yellow; and Katera,
lavender. In what was probably an attempt at comforting each other, they had a group hug by the horses.
Betsy's tombstone was almost identical to Brin's, sans flower vase at the top. Before Mike knew what he was doing,
he was sitting on his heels at the foot of the grave, his face wet again. The only pain he felt was his heart missing
her. In a way, he was glad he had missed the funeral, as he felt certain he would have succumbed to hystrionics--like
the dream.
Mike heard shuffling around him. When he opened his eyes, two FJs were sitting on their heels on his right, the
other two, on his left.
"You must be Betsy's feller," said Callie Sue.
Mike nodded.
"She was really nice to us. Never once told us to scram," said Katera.
He managed a feeble smile.
"Have you been to the track yet?" asked Jolie.
"I think we're going there next," said Mike.
As the trio drove in Elizabeth's car toward Lexington on the Bluegrass Parkway, Mike noticed everything was the same
as the dream. After the parkway, the airport was across the road from Keeneland Race Course on Versailles Road.
So this was what the Mecca of the Thoroughbred world really looked like--rolling hills of vibrant green grass; seemingly endless
white fence; and gorgeous horses. An occasional tobacco or cattle farm lent the area variety.
Mike caught a chill. Again, he was having a problem keeping the dream separate from reality. Meeting up with
Brin's last mount. . .the two grooms and the mare. . .going to the Stanleys from Lexington.
Marco turned to him from the front passenger seat. "How far along was the second wife?"
"Four months."
"And you and Betsy had been together for. . ."
Mike felt as if he'd been hit in the head with a shovel. "Four months," he said hoarsely. "But I'm not thinking
about that right now. I'm remembering my and Johnny's trip to the breeding farm."
"You guys hungry?" asked Cap. Both said yes. They pulled off Interstate 75 where a Holiday Inn had
a restaurant called The Post. On the wall in each booth was a shadowbox of a famous local farm's racing colors.
The hostess seated them under the devil's red and blue colors of Calumet Farm. The red jacket had two blue hoops going
around the sleeves just above the elbow and a blue cap.
After lunch, they were back on the interstate, headed toward Richmond, the home of not only John Hunt Morgan Park, but
Eastern Kentucky University, and the Lexington-Bluegrass Army Depot. When they arrived at the Madison County track,
they were surprised at the small size of the grandstand.
Track workers were busy with their duties of "undressing" the park after the meet. No one noticed when the three
men walked into the complex. A local radio station was playing through the PA system. Mike's anxiety grew as they
approached the tunnel leading to the track proper. The gate which usually blocked access to the tunnel and the
paddock was open today.
They sat in the grandstand at the finish line, trying to imagine Betsy booting home a winner--one of two she had at Morgan
Park. Mike leaned on the bar dividing his box from the others. His peripheral vision kept being pulled to the
end of the tunnel. An advertisement with melancholic music was playing over the PA system. He was going to fall
apart before the day was over--he could feel it coming.
Cap looked over at him. "Are you ready to go down there?"
Mike broke a sweat. "Might as well."
No marker had been set up where Betsy had died. Not even a plaque on the wall commemorated her memory. Mike
was now looking up at the seats where the FJs had been sitting, then over to where the obese lady stood up and began to sing.
"Geoff had stolen a costume from a local college, and was disguised as an old man," Cap explained. "He shed his
costume, then. . ."
Mike stepped onto a particular spot of track at the 10 o'clock position from the corner of the grandstand where the singer
had stood. He didn't exactly understand what was happening to him; he only knew that his mind's eye saw the last
seconds of Betsy's life: her being distracted by the singing woman; the thump of Betsy's heart when Geoff called her;
utter panic; searing pains in the chest. He grabbed his own chest and fell to his knees. He'd heard of people
becoming "unglued;" now he knew what they were talking about. He couldn't cry hard enough--his lungs didn't go that
deep--or scream "NO!" loud enough. A pop song started playing over the PA system:
No use pretending things
could still be right,
There's really nothing
more to say,
With both hands, he grabbed clumps of the dirt which he somehow knew had received Betsy's blood.
I'll get along without
your kiss goodnight,
Just close the door and
walk away.
Never gonna fall in love
again,
I don't wanna start with
someone new,
Cause I couldn't bear
to see it end
Just like me and you.
No, I never wanna feel
the pain,
Of remembering how it
used to be,
Never gonna fall in love
again,
Just like you and me.
Cap and Marco picked Mike up, and they walked to the gardens behind the grandstand, in front of the huge toteboard.
A black woman was digging up the flowers in the brick-lined circular flowerbed and placing them in a cart.
Something made Mike look up and to his right, and he saw a rectangular structure acting as a support for the
pavilion roof next to it. The small white building had a green rectangular sign on the door which said in white letters:
WOMEN JOCKEYS.
He could almost feel the warmth of Betsy's hugs again when he saw the sign. He practically flung himself
onto it and put the fingertips of his right hand on it. The song continued playing out of a bullhorn-style speaker next
to the room at the roofline.
At first we thought
that love
was
here to stay,
The summer made it seem
so right,
But like the sun we watched
it fade away,
From morning into lonely
night.
He sat on the steps as Cap held him. Both cried. Marco stood to one side, and fought tears himself.
Never gonna fall in love again,
I don't wanna start with someone
new
Cause I couldn't bear to see
it end
Just like me and you
No I never wanna feel the
pain
Of remembering how it used
to be
Never gonna fall in love
again
Just like you and me.
"'Scuse me, sir," said the black lady gardener as she came up the three steps. She unlocked the door to the riders'
lounge, pushed open the door, and motioned for Mike to go in.
The song's musical interlude provided an odd, if not appropriate, background theme for his investigation of the room.
The same configuration was found as Brin's lounge in the dream, but the bathroom was on the right at the foot of
the couch instead of across the room at the left. Mike felt a hand on his right shoulder, turned to look, but no one
was there. When he turned back to the room, he saw a bright flash and Betsy sitting on the end of the couch.
Never gonna fall in love again,
I don't wanna start with
someone new
The gardener went behind the door and withdrew a green Fleetwood Mac tour jacket. She handed it to Mike who saw
the "B. Stanley" on the tag.
Cause I couldn't bear
to see it end
Just like me and you.
He turned the jacket inside out and put it to his eyes.
No I never wanna
feel the pain
Of remembering
how it used to be
Never gonna fall
in love again
Just like you and
me.
Cap and Marco led him back to the car. On the way, he declared, "My heart's broken. I'm never getting married."
Never gonna fall in love again
I don't wanna start with someone
new
Cause I couldn't bear to see
it end
Just like me and you.
No I never wanna feel
the pain
Of remembering how it used
to be
Never gonna fall in love again
Just like you and me.
The winner's circle for someone. . .
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