Son of the Black Stallion (21 page)

“Then he won his next two races in Florida just as easily,” Henry reminded Alec.

“But he hasn’t run since, has he, Henry?”

The old trainer shook his head. “No. Boldt knows what he can do now, an’ he’ll sit back and wait for the Hopeful.”

“How about Volence?” Alec asked. “Have you heard anything about his two-year-olds?”

“Yeah. There was some talk about one of his, a chestnut that he’s callin’ Desert Storm, that he’s bringin’ along. Volence takes his time, though. He doesn’t run ’em early like Boldt does. I heard from one guy that Volence has entered Desert Storm in the Hopeful, too.… He also told me that Volence is goin’ to run him in an early race durin’ the meetin’. I think it was the Union Hotel Stakes.… It comes off about a week before the Hopeful.”

“Then we’ll have a good chance of finding out what he’s got,” Alec said.

“Yeah,” Henry agreed. After a long pause, he said, “We know the Comet has speed … that he’s a sprinter, Alec. An’ remember the Hopeful is only a six-furlong-and-a-half race.…”

“A little over three-quarters of a mile,” muttered Alec.

“Yeah … and Satan hasn’t the fastest break I’ve ever seen.”

“But he gathers fast, Henry, once he’s going,” Alec said.

“Sure, I know … an’ he oughta be able to catch any horse runnin’. Even at six furlongs,” Henry concluded.

They had sat back in their seats and were quiet
again when Henry mumbled, “Well, that’s not our immediate problem, anyway. What we got to do is to see if Satan is goin’ to run or fight.”

“When are we going over, Henry?”

The old trainer rose to his feet, and he turned to look out over the field before replying. “An old pal of mine got in at Belmont a few days ago with a horse he’s gettin’ ready for the Hopeful. Mike said it would be all right if I worked our horse with his, so I told him maybe tomorrow mornin’. Guess we might as well get right to it, Alec.… No sense puttin’ it off any longer.”

“Yes, Henry,” Alec returned quietly. “No sense in doing that.”

It was still dark the following morning when Alec met Henry at the barn. The old trainer had the van and was waiting for him.

“Hurry it up, Alec,” Henry said. “It’ll be light in another half hour, and they’ll be working at Belmont.”

Running into the barn, Alec reached Satan’s stall. The giant black colt neighed when he saw him and shook his tousled head. A few minutes later, Alec had him out of his stall and was leading him toward the barn door. Satan turned his head toward Napoleon as the old gray watched them go by.

“Not this morning, Nap,” Alec muttered. “Satan goes without you today.”

The sun was up, warming the cool gray of early morning, when they arrived at the track. Alec found Belmont a far cry from the place they had visited nightly for so many months. There was much activity
now as the shouts of men shattered the still air, and already the rhythmic hoofbeats of galloping horses were heard upon the track.

They could smell the fragrant wood smoke burning in the iron stoves as the van neared the long rows of racing stables.

“We’ve got to go all the way to the end,” Henry muttered, turning the van down a graveled road running behind the stables.

They were going slowly now, and Alec’s eyes were upon the sleek thoroughbreds as their grooms led them about. Some of them had already finished their morning workouts and were being cooled off beneath colorful blankets, while still others danced nervously as they were being saddled to go out, their exercise boys standing quietly beside them, waiting to be boosted upon their backs. A strong scent of liniment pervaded the air.

Alec looked at Satan through the back window. The colt’s ears were pricked and his eyes wide and staring as the strange sounds and the neighing of horses reached him. “He’s getting excited,” Alec told Henry.

Henry only nodded, slowing the van down as they neared the last row of sheds. He turned the corner and they passed the stalls, most of which were empty. Finally, at the end of the row, Henry brought the van to a stop a few yards away from two grooms who were saddling a good-looking bay colt.

“That’s Mike’s horse,” Henry said. “Mike oughta be around somewhere.” Shutting off the engine, he glanced in the direction of the stalls.

Alec listened to the grooms humming to the flighty
two-year-old as they saddled him. The bay colt had good lines and looked as though he had speed as well. A stocky little man with a wizened face came around the corner. “Is that Mike?” Alec asked Henry.

The old trainer shook his head. “No,” he replied, “that’s Mike’s jock, Lenny Sansone. He’s been ridin’ for Mike for years. Len worked in a chemical plant over in Brooklyn when Mike picked him up after Lenny had been spending all his early mornings around the track. He’s a great guy, an’ you’ll like him,” Henry added. “There aren’t many jocks who can exercise horses as well as race ’em, but Lenny is one of them. He follows Mike’s instructions to the letter, an’ tells him exactly how his horse reacts to his works. Lots of other jocks, who are good in the afternoon silks, are no good in the morning works, because they want to win races then, too. An’ lots of times it’s no good for the horses or the trainer’s nerves.”

Alec saw Lenny Sansone go up to the bay and affectionately place his hand on the colt’s head. “What’s the bay’s name?” Alec asked Henry.

“The Chief,” Henry replied. “He has good breedin’, but I don’t expect he’ll be able to match Satan’s speed or come close to Boldt’s Comet,” he added.

A tall, heavy-set man, wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a battered hat, came around the corner toward them. “Here’s Mike,” Henry said, opening the door of the van.

Henry introduced Alec to Mike; then the three walked over to the bay colt. “The Chief is coming
along fast,” Mike told Henry. “I want to blow him out a good stiff quarter this morning. That all right for your horse?”

Henry glanced in Alec’s direction, then nodded.

Mike turned to Lenny Sansone, who stood beside him. “If he plays along, when he’s out in front, fan your stick at him, Len. He’ll move along then.”

Lenny nodded, and then his gaze turned to Alec.

Henry said, “Oh, yeah, Len … I want you to meet Alec Ramsay. Alec, meet Len.”

Alec liked the jockey’s eyes and his firm grasp as they shook hands. It was hard to tell Lenny’s age, but Alec judged him to be in his thirties.

“I saw you ride the Black in Chicago,” Lenny said. “It was good riding on that horse, Alec.”

Then Mike said, “Let’s get going. It’s getting hot fast today. Bring your horse out, Henry.”

As Alec led Satan from the van, he felt the eyes of the others upon them, but his gaze never left the black colt. Satan was fretting, working himself up, and Alec talked soothingly to him. Then he heard Mike exclaim, “He’s a giant, Henry! Where’d you get him? What’s his breeding?”

“He belongs to Alec … or rather his father,” Alec heard Henry reply.

“And sired by the Black,” Lenny Sansone said. “You don’t have to tell me that.… He’s more burly, but
him
, anyway.”

Mike’s voice was excited as he asked, “Does he have the Black’s speed, Henry?”

Alec didn’t hear Henry’s reply, for Satan, his eyes upon the Chief, uttered his piercing challenge.

The bay shot up his ears at Satan’s whistle, and moved restlessly beneath Lenny’s hand.

Satan made a single effort to jump, which Alec prevented, and then the black colt stood still, his wild eyes shifting from the Chief to Alec, and back again. “He doesn’t want to fight, Satan. Take it easy,” the boy said.

When Henry came over and saddled Satan, the colt stood quivering beneath his touch.

“It’s not as bad as I thought it might be,” Henry said, slipping the bridle over Satan’s head, “… not yet, anyway.”

“He’s going to be all right, Henry,” Alec replied confidently. “I can feel it. He’s excited, but he has a right to be.… This is all so strange to him. But I’ll be able to control him, as long as the Chief doesn’t want to fight.”

“He won’t,” Henry muttered. “The bay is a good-tempered colt.”

“How about on the track?” Alec asked anxiously.

“With the other horses, y’mean? I guess you’ll just have to wait and see how he acts up,” Henry answered.

Lenny Sansone was already up on the Chief when Alec mounted Satan. The black colt crabstepped as Henry took him by the bridle, his eyes now upon Henry instead of the Chief. Alec talked to him and, slowly, he felt Satan quiet down beneath his knees.

Mike led his bay colt toward the track, and Henry, leading Satan, followed.

The black colt showed no outward signs of tension as they moved onto the track, but Alec dug his fingernails deep into the palms of his hands to keep them
from shaking. He knew how important this workout was. If he could control Satan with strange horses on the track, they would be well on their way to the Hopeful. But if the colt went berserk, giving way to his savage nature to fight other young stallions, he might never race.

Two horses swept by, running hard on the rail, their hoofs pounding over the track. Satan’s ears pitched forward and he uttered a short whistle. He was beginning to feel the tension now, and Alec whispered, “Easy, boy. Easy.”

Henry, still holding the bridle, looked up at him. “You set, Alec?”

The boy nodded.

“Jog him around the track once along with the Chief,” Henry instructed. “Keep away from the rail so the horses that are breezing can get by. Then if everything goes well we’ll gallop him easy for a half, an’ then blow him out the last quarter with the Chief.”

“You mean give him his head?” Alec asked.

Henry nodded and a flicker of a smile was upon his lips. “You’ve waited a long time, Alec, an’ here it is,” he said quietly.

Satan moved restlessly, his head craned high, watching the horses on the track. His heavy ears were up, and his black forelock had fallen over the white diamond.

Patting the high crest of his neck, Alec repeated, “Easy, boy.”

Henry nodded toward the men who leaned upon the rail in front of the huge, empty grandstand.
“They’ve seen Satan,” he said. “Look at them stare. They’ve never seen a colt as big as this one. An’ they’ll be watchin’ him, Alec, wonderin’ if he’s got the speed to go with that body.”

“They’ll see,” Alec promised. “They’ll see.”

Henry stepped back. As Satan jogged away, Alec stood high in his stirrups, holding him back. The colt shook his head, pulling for more rein, but Alec held it tight, talking to him all the while. Reaching out, Satan lengthened his stride, and Alec knew he wanted to catch up to the Chief, who jogged a short distance ahead.

“Easy, Satan. Easy,” Alec whispered. “It’s early yet.”

Three horses breezed quickly past them, and Satan’s muscles rippled as he bolted after them. Still standing in his stirrups, Alec kept a tight rein. “Easy, boy. Lots of time for that. Easy, Satan,” he whispered.

One ear cocked back as the colt listened; then he slowed to a jog again.

Alec stroked Satan’s neck. “You’re ready, boy. I knew you’d be. You’re not going to fight. You’re going to run … and you’ll run with the best of them. You’re a champ, Satan, but you’ll go easy today. For one quarter I’ll let you run, but that’s all. You’ll go light today, boy, but soon it’ll be all the way.”

Alec gave the colt a little more rein, and he loped easily along as other horses swept past them. Finally they neared the Chief as they entered the backstretch halfway around the track.

Lenny Sansone, also poised high in his stirrups,
holding the Chief in, turned in his saddle as Alec came up. “He’s a mighty nice horse, Alec.… Haven’t seen anything like him since the day I saw the Black run,” he said admiringly. “How does he ride?”

“Like the Black,” said Alec with a grin.

“You’re serious?” Lenny asked. “You think he has his speed? He’s pretty big.… Looks as if he has the endurance, but he’s big for a sprinter.”

“He can move,” Alec said.

Satan snorted and swerved alongside the Chief; for a moment his teeth were bared.

“He could be nasty,” Lenny said as Alec pulled Satan away.

They finished their jog in front of Mike and Henry, and when the old trainer came up to him, Alec said, “He did it, Henry!”

“Yeah,” Henry replied, “not bad. Now jog around to the three-quarter pole. Then gallop a half an’ blow him out for a quarter like I told you. Mike’s having Len do the same with the Chief. You’ll be finishing right here.”

As Alec turned Satan around, he heard Mike say to Lenny, “Turn it on that last quarter, Len. An’ remember, if he starts to lag, fan your whip alongside him. He’ll move then.”

The sun was well up in the sky, and all the other horses had left the track. Alec noticed, though, that their trainers, exercise boys and grooms still lined the rail in front of the grandstand. They wanted to watch the big black colt run.

Lenny moved up alongside Alec as they rounded
the first turn. “We’ll see what both of ’em have now,” he shouted. “The Chief here has the speed, but sometimes he just plays along when I get him out in front, so I have to show him this.” He pointed to the whip stuck in his boot.

As they neared the three-quarter pole they let up on their reins, and the horses swept by at a slow gallop.

Satan fought for his head as he gained momentum, his long black tail streaming behind him.

The Chief surged to the front, Lenny keeping him close to the rail. Alec made no attempt to catch up. Still half-poised in his stirrups, he was holding Satan back. Henry had said a slow gallop for the first half; Alec intended to do just that and not let Satan out until they hit the last quarter pole.

Satan was furious as Alec held him in and the Chief lengthened his lead. “Easy, Satan. Easy,” Alec said. “This is just to get the feel of it.”

The colt’s ears cocked back, then pricked forward again as he reached out, fighting the bit.

The white rail of the track whipped by as they thundered down the backstretch and approached the last turn, with the Chief running easily a good four lengths ahead.

“Easy, Satan. Easy,” Alec called to his horse. “Just a little farther now.”

Satan wanted to run, and having the bay colt in front of him made him furious. Alec’s arms felt like weights from the constant strain of holding his horse in check. The rail swept by at ever increasing speed, and Alec knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold Satan back
much longer. Then, through blurred eyes, he saw the final quarter pole flash by. In front of him, the Chief leapt forward as Lenny gave him his head.