At the Track Read online

looked at the eighth horse in the first race. She studied the racing information for two minutes. His genealogy, his winnings and finish positions for his last six races. “He’s ten years old. I doubt if he can even trot a mile. He hasn’t finished in the money in his last four races. Five races ago he finished third. I think Smitty is full of shit.”

  Lucy stood on the bench to get a good view of the track. “I like Amos Hanover, the number two horse. He has a better record than Lonesome Dan. He also is starting from the number three slot. Old Dan is way out in the eighth slot.”

  Joanne stepped up on the bench. “Well, I’m going to put ten dollars on Lonesome Dan’s nose. Maybe I’ll also bet two dollars on Amos Hanover. Here comes Rosalie and Smitty. Let’s see what else Smitty has prophesized.” She waited until Rosalie was ten feet away. “Well, what does Smitty say about the second race?”

  Rosalie frowned at Smitty and held her racing program in front of his face. “He says Harvest Queen in the second.”

  Smitty was thumping the empty beer bottle against his left palm and singing a few lines of ‘Shine on Harvest Moon.’ He kept nodding his head, grinning and holding up ten fingers.

  “Look at him.” Ruthie used her gin and tonic to point at Smitty. “That lightning bolt sure didn’t help his singing. Why is he holding up ten fingers?”

  Joanne alternated looking at the racetrack and her racing program. “There she is. She’s an old grey mare. Smitty means she’s racing out of the tenth slot. The racing form says she thirteen years old and hasn’t finished in the money in her last six races. Her total winnings this year is only one hundred fifty dollars.” She waved her program at Smitty. “Are you sure about her?”

  Ruthie stood up to watch the horses do warm-up laps. “I see Harvest Queen, the old grey mare. I think she’s limping. All the horses are flying by her as if she’s pulling an anchor. I’m not betting on that slow nag.” She studied her racing program for a few minutes. “This number two horse in the second race is the favorite. He can’t lose. I like his name too, Dynamite Jack. I going to bet him and my daily double bet is Lonesome Dan and Dynamite Jack. That’s eight and two.”

  Smitty waved the empty beer bottle at Ruthie. He held up two fingers and grinned.

  “Hold your horses. I’ll wine and dine you now, but if your horse loses, you’re buying me drinks for the rest of the night.” Ruthie nodded at Smitty. “And you are only getting one.”

  “I’m going to stick with Smitty’s selections,” Joanne said. “I’m betting on Lonesome Dan and Harvest Queen to win in each race. I’m also betting them in the daily double. That’s eight and ten for the double.”

  Lucy, and Rosalie nodded agreement.

  Two minutes before post time, everyone stood up on the bench to get a view of the track, especially a clear view of the homestretch. Smitty was sipping on his fourth beer and looking at other patrons. The horses were on the far side of the track getting in line behind the starting car. The race caller announced one minute until the start. The starting car had six of the trotters in good position behind the starting gate. Lonesome Dan was one of the stragglers.

  Ruthie snatched on Smitty’s arm. “Get your horse up to the gate, dammit. Quit looking at people drinking beer. The announcer just said thirty seconds and Lonesome Dan is still not at the gate.” She paused a few seconds as the starting car increased speed approaching the starting wire.

  “They’re off!” the caller yelled over the loud speaker. He ran down the order of trotters as they went around the first turn. Lonesome Dan was the trailing trotter.

  Ruthie rolled up her racing program and smacked Smitty along side of his head. “Do you see where your horse is? He’s dead last. He was five lengths behind at the start. Why didn’t you move him up? I’ve got ten dollars on his nose so he had better start coming to the front.”

  “Quit picking on Smitty. This is the first time he’s ever tried this.” Rosalie watched as Lonesome Dan moved up close to the seventh horse. “See! He’s moving up.”

  At the quarter pole, he was last. At a half-mile, they went by the grandstand the first time, the horses had bunched up but Lonesome Dan was still bringing up the rear.

  “He might be last, but he’s gaining ground.” Joanne glanced at Smitty for a second. Smitty had his eyes on the bunch of trotters. “Look, he’s in seventh place. Come on Lonesome Dan.”

  “Look at that fool go. He’s passing them all.” Ruthie grinned and looked at her tickets.

  The caller yelled that Lonesome Dan was in third place at the three-quarter pole and all were approaching the home stretch. At the seven-furlong pole, Lonesome Dan took the lead heading down the homestretch in front of the grand stand.

  The number one horse overtook Lonesome Dan midway down the home stretch and was a half-length ahead.

  Ruthie yelled and tugged on Smitty arm. She saw that Smitty was looking at a big blonde woman in a low cut blouse. She yelled again and pointed at the race.

  Smitty looked up and grinned. The number one horse suddenly broke stride and Lonesome Dan won by five lengths.

  “Whooee, did you see that.” Joanne waved her winning tickets. “I have two ten dollar tickets on his nose.” She looked at Smitty and then Rosalie. “Did Smitty have anything to do with it or were we just lucky?”

  They settled down talking excitedly about the race until the payouts were posted.

  “Look at that. He paid $10.20 to win.” Ruthie fanned her two ten dollar tickets. “I need a drink and I’m coming back with one hundred and two dollars.” She pinched Smitty on his cheek. “You sweet thing.”

  Five minutes before the second race, Ruthie was watching the ten pacers mill around on the backstretch. She waved to get Rosalie’s attention. “I don’t know whether Smitty had anything to do with us winning. But, when that other horse took the lead in the homestretch, Smitty was looking at some young woman’s boobs and wasn’t paying any attention to the race. I yelled at him and made him look at the race.” She paused for a second. “The number one horse broke stride right at that instant.” She looked at the race display and saw it was four minutes until post time. “Did Smitty have anything to do with us winning?”

  Rosalie glanced at Smitty. “I think he caused that other horse to break stride and that allowed Lonesome Dan to win.” She allowed five seconds to go by. “But you have to watch him. He is easily distracted. Especially by young women with big boobs.”

  Joanne leaned back on her bench. “I’ll make sure there are none around when Harvest Queen is coming down the homestretch. I have two daily double tickets. Each one will pay five hundred dollars if old Harvest Queen comes in.”

  “Well, I want Dynamite Jack to win.” Ruthie put her finger on Dynamite Jack in the racing program. She got Smitty attention. “He’s the number two horse.”

  Everyone stepped up on the bench to see the homestretch.

  Smitty gave a very brief nod and studied the pacers beginning to line up behind the starting gate. He glanced at his watch when the caller announced three minutes to post time. A blonde woman wearing a brief yellow halter walked by. Smitty stepped off the bench.

  “Whoa! Where do you think you’re going?” Joanne grabbed his shirt collar as he tried to walk away. “You’re not following some big boob bimbo around. You’re staying here with us.”

  The starting car began picking up speed toward the starting wire. All ten horses were in a decent straight line as the car accelerated. “Here they come,” the speakers boomed. Five seconds later, the pacers went under the starting wire at full speed. They were in a tight bunch going around the first turn. Harvest Queen was ninth.

  The horses made one circuit of the half-mile track. Harvest Queen was in the middle of the pack.

  Ruthie glanced down the bench. “Where’s Smitty?”

  Joanne looked around. “He was right here a second ago. Do you think he went to get a beer? We only have one minute. I bet he’s following the big boob woman and she went toward the track.”

  The tw
o women stepped down and began walking hurriedly toward the track.

  “Keep an eye out for Smitty. Don’t let him get away and make sure he watches the race.” Ruthie led the way through the crowd of racing fans.

  At the three-quarter pole, Harvest Queen was third behind Dynamite Jack and Country Pride.

  “Hurry, we got to find him soon.” Joanne jumped on a bench and scanned the crowd.

  Harvest Queen and Dynamite Jack were a half-length behind Country pride at the seven furlong pole and turning on to the home stretch.

  “There he is.” Joanne screamed over the noise coming from the crowd. “He’s at the fence standing next to that bimbo.”

  The pacers were three abreast, pacing stride for stride, midway down the home stretch, a hundred yards to go.

  Joanne grabbed Smitty’s head and turned it toward the three pacers. Ruthie pushed the big-boob-blonde-bimbo out of the way.

  “Do something,” they both screamed.

  Smitty grinned and pointed his finger at the horses.

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