"Darling, we really should gather up our coats and woolies and head back east for the holiday." Mitzi made the remark as she took another sip of wine and watched her horse, Black Lightning, speed by. The track was hot and sunny, a warm day for December in California, a day riddled with excitement as the horses pounded their way to the finish.
"GO! Black Lightning, go!" her companion, Trudy, bellowed as both women clutched the rail with white knuckles showing, wine glasses tossed aside, and their wide-brimmed hats knocked crooked on their heads.
"GO-O-O-O, BLACKIE, GO-O-O-O!" they screamed, only to fall back in dismay as Black Lightning stumbled and fell off to the side while his nemesis, Brenda's Baby, took the lead. That horse passed the finish line to cheers of adoring fans. Amidst the rumble of applause, Mitzi and Trudy sat back in a pool of grief.
"Well, now we're out of money. I guess we have no choice but to head back east for Christmas," Mitzi murmured.
"Yeah, but we'd have to apologize to a lot of people back there."
"Oh yeah!" Mitzi blushed. "My little incident with your cousin, Tony... I wonder if he ever got over it."
Trudy glared back. "I doubt it, Mitzi, he was only twelve years old at the time!"
"Yeah, I shouldn't have. But what about the time you posed for those nude pictures?"
"The firemen told me I was posing for a charity calendar!"
Mitzi chuckled. "You enjoyed it."
"YEAH," Trudy gushed. "You know, if we go back east, they're going to make us stay there 'for our own good,' and we're going to have to bow down to a lot of people and behave ourselves."
"No more fun. No more going to the track."
"Yeah, we'll have to get day jobs and open savings accounts and save our money for the future...like other people." The last few words left Trudy gasping for breath.
"You know...I've got a couple bucks left. We could bet on the next race, and maybe we'll get lucky."
"It's either that or write to mother for plane tickets."
"If we win today, they're having extra races Christmas week. We could come back and win some more."
"Right." Trudy sighed. An inspired smile brightened her face, as she bolted off at a gallop toward the betting windows, blaring out a Christmas carol, "Gawd rest ye merry ponies, run!"
"Let get out there and play!" Mitzi caroled back chasing Trudy in hot pursuit. They never did go back east, ever again.
Copyright 2007 JO Janoski
For some, it would seem, the formula for success more often than not lies with kismet. Actually, it's nice to learn that some horse players get to stay in SoCal despite themselves. I liked this, Jo... nice job.
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