stuck between goin' and gone {ANTHONY}

[Azaria Montgomery]

The early morning peeked over the looming and defiant foliage that boasted their size. The barn was milling with activity, stable hands darting in and out of the landscape. Sienna colored eyes watched most file out with horses in tow with lead ropes hanging low in their hands. Even though it was nearly nine, she had arrived at the barn with a smile upon her face. She greeted everyone by their first name, making small talk as she progressed her way into the barn. She watched some do double takes at the smile pressed to her lips, almost stunned that it was there in wee hours of the morning. Of course, she could see the look of being worn down on their very faces but some managed a weak smile, and that was no easy feat to accomplish.

There was a buzz in the air and the humidity was less than yesterday. All the blonde cared about was this was the ultimate day to pay her mare a visit. She finally ducked into the barn, acknowledging the stall hands momentarily before a loud bang caught her attention. Her eyes slid across the barn, spotting a man leaving the stall, sporting a fresh bruise. A look of sympathy flashed across her face, watching him begrudgingly head off to tend to his wound. She approached the stall where her mare resided, realizing that she was the one who was causing the ruckus. A brand new crack was in the stall she resided in and a look of relief crossed yet another man who seemed to be ready to dive into the confines of the menacing beast. The twenty-two year old stopped her strides, gazing up at them since she was a mere five foot two inch woman. ”She causin’ you boys trouble,” she inquired, southern accent rippling through her words and drenching them in the charming tone it carried. Her voice was soft but was lightly poking fun at them in a good natured way. There were grumbles that attempted to hide their bruised egos but the steel gray mare had clearly won all her battles so far.

She grinned at them, watching her mare greet her in a friendly fashion as the men went off to attend to their duties. Azaria stroked the Thoroughbred’s face, shaking her head lightly. ”Hey there big girl,” she murmured, smiling at the smoldering amber eyes that flickered with amusement from her recent escapades. ”You drive those nice men to hell and back, don’t cha? Lay off ‘em for a bit,” she suggested and there was a withdrawn snort. It was rare that Azaria was getting on so well with her mare for she swore she was bi-polar, then again Thoroughbreds, from her firsthand experience, always were. She slid the halter over her face, knowing that Serenade knew what was coming. Azaria needed to borrow freedom and to quench her thirst for speed. Today, she hoped, the track would be remote and quiet, letting Azaria and Serenade have full access to the track but she wasn’t holding her breath.

Azaria put the slate colored mare in the cross-ties and emerged with her hands full of tack and grooming supplies. She thoroughly groomed her until she looked like a shiny silver medallion and her coat was gleaming. She admired her flashy mare before putting on her racing gear and led her outside. She walked in silence next to Serenade, listening to her hooves collide with the gravel before that sound turned muffled by the grass they crossed to create their own shortcut. She murmured to Serr about nothing, telling her that Rodeo, her four year old Red Heeler, was taking the day off. Naturally Rodeo would be jogging by her side, panting and full of excitement, but today he stayed to guard the apartment until she came home. It wasn’t long before two sets of eyes landed on the white railings that surrounded the track that was, to Azaria’s surprise, untouched and empty. She was thrilled, practically grinning stupidly as she crossed into the newly raked dirt and exhaled lightly. She wore a simple t-shirt, breeches, and her old boots from when she exercised thoroughbreds back in her teens.

She stopped the 16.3 handed beast of a mare to check the girth and let down her stirrups before she swung up onto her back with the aid of a cleverly placed mounting block. Finally someone had answered her prayers by putting one down here so she didn’t have to navigate her way onto the railing and then onto Serenade’s back. She removed the things from her pocket, letting them rest on the top of the block before she adjusted her helmet and walked Serenade towards where she imagined the starting line to be. The fog in the greenery was Azaria’s own slice of heaven as she inhaled contentedly, smiling to herself as she felt Serenade’s muscles coil beneath her, ready to stretch them as far as she could. As soon as Azaria turned her around, she could feel Serr begin to anticipate. Before either one of them could burst from excitement, Azaria leaned forwards and Serenade immediately surged forth with powerful strides.

Serenade’s mane whipped backwards, tickling Azaria’s face as they galloped on the dirt. She could hear the wind blowing around her, and the sweet music of thunderous hooves against the dirt. She listened to the breathing of her mare become louder as she did what they both loved to do. The speed increased as they continued along, racing no one but their own shadows as Serenade sprang to life. Her muscles flexed and rippled beneath the brilliance of her coat. Azaria fought back the smile that threatened to slither its way back onto her lips as she counted the furlongs for the heck of it. Finally she gave her mare her head and practically shuddered from excitement as Serenade broke into an even faster pace, her strides greedily eating the ground as the duo plowed through the finish line. She slowed Serr down who reluctantly gave in and patted her neck with a broad grin filled with pride and happiness.

They trotted back towards their starting line with ease but didn’t leave quite yet. She halted Serenade, gazing out at the land that was still speckled with dew and the low lying fog that clung to the lush landscape. She patted Serenade’s muscular and lean neck fondly, murmuring to herself, not caring if anyone was lurking around. ”Beautiful,” she spoke with a gentle smile. ”Just beautiful.”

[Anthony Lovasz]

The earliest of mornings were the best time of day in the opinion of Pinewood Stable's racehorse trainer. The barn was always so quiet and peaceful, and it was always just the right temperature. Of course, working with the horses was the best part of the whole thing. Without horses, Anthony didn't know where he'd be. He'd been working with them since he was 10, riding since he was 13, and racing since he was 14, with a brief interval in the racing from 16 to 18 when he first came to the US and had to wait two years to get his license to race again. Horses were his addiction, and the crazier the horse the more he liked them. He couldn't really say why he liked them crazy, he just always had. He got too bored on a horse that was sane.

As per usual, he'd been up to train his two psychotic project horses long before the sun came up. It was always best to get them done before anyone arrived at the barn to cause any form of distraction for the horses. Even the stable hands hadn't yet arrived. Things had gone surprisingly well with Shock, but not so much with Chase. The big chestnut seemed to have made it his life goal to buck like a rodeo bronc in the middle of a flat out gallop. Everything would be going just fine, then all of a sudden out of nowhere without any warning, he'd just take to the air and dump his rider in a heart beat. Throughout the process, the horse managed to throw Anthony three times and turn a thirty minute workout into an hour because of it.

Feeling the pain of the falls, especially in all of the numerous old injuries he'd sustained through his years on the track, he decided he'd wait a bit before going on to the next horse. His shoulder was the biggest problem, considering the number of times it had been dislocated throughout his life, it didn't take much for the pain in it to become pretty severe, and he knew all too well that if you could only use one arm, you had almost no control over a racehorse. Granted, the only one he had left to ride was King who was actually sane and controllable, but considering he was blind in one eye, there was no telling when something might spook the poor beast and send him off in a panic, so waiting for the pain to subside a bit he figured was a wise idea. In the meantime, he figured he might as well fill out the weekly training reports on Sebastian's horses. He wasn't sure Seb even really knew what it all meant, but he seemed to like to think he did, so Anthony always amused him and wrote the reports for him.

By the time that was all finished, he figured it had been long enough and he could take King out. As usual, the 10 year old had let himself out of his paddock and was grazing about the racing yard like he belonged there. Everyone had gotten quite used to seeing the horse loose, and no one had the heart to put a chain on his gate to keep him in. He never went far, considering his confort zone when alone was quite small due to his blindness, and he was such an amiable horse that no one really minded when he decided to take a stroll on his own. Becoming so dependent on people had turned the horse from a holy terror into a saint of an animal. Despite his lack of insanity, he was by far Anthony's favorite horse. They'd been through hell and back together, and you could rest assured that even though King had long since retired from racing, Anthony would never pass the horse off to someone else.

It took only a few minutes to get him all groomed and tacked up and out to the track. When they arrived there was another horse on the other side of the track, which was not an uncommon occurrence. Not bothered, he pulled himself up onto the large horse who stood quietly and waited for his rider to get settled and ask him to move out before taking so much as a step forward. His demeanor suggested anything but racehorse. Out of the corner of his eye, Anthony watched the other horse as it galloped out, keeping King to the outside rail as he warmed him up. The mare definitely had speed and drive, that was for sure.

As the other horse was slowed, Anthony returned his focus to the horse he was riding and let him out to a nice even canter, just letting him cruise along for a bit and get his muscle's working. In general, with the retired horse, Anthony just let him pick the speed and what they did, since he wasn't racing anymore he didn't have to have a strict workout schedule. When the chestnut asked for more rein, Anthony gave it to him, and before long he'd picked up an easy, steady gallop, but King wasn't satisfied with that, and siezed the bit in his teeth like he used to in his racing days when he was ready to go. Anthony made no attempt to stop him, and just hunkered down for what he knew was to come. As they hit the turn, King switched leads and burst forward like he'd been shot out of a canon. It really was a shame that King was as old as he was, because even now he really was something to watch. He was rather huge, and his chestnut coat shone like a copper penny, and all the chrome on him made him stand out like a sore thumb. When he got to barreling down the track like that, he looked like a steam roller coming to crush anything that got in front of it. As he picked up momentum his galloping turned nearly into bounding. They really were a sight to behold. As they neared the girl and her horse, King turned his head towards them so he could see them with his good eye as they galloped by, but once past them he straightened back out and dug back in.

They continued on this way for another half loop around the track before King decided that he'd run enough and voluntarily slowed. His coat was darkened with sweat and he was steaming profusely, but there was still that spring to his step indicating that he had not, in fact, exhausted himself. It didn't take long before he came back down to a walk and just plodded along on a loose rein like he was some lazy old trail horse. When they came within conversation distance of the other girl and her mare, Anthony pulled King to a stop, and the horse swung his haunches around so that his good eye was facing them. She's got some speed on her. Anthony commented in his distinct and rather strong spanish accent, with a nod towards the mare. He never had been able to get rid of his accent. He'd tried when he came to the States, but after having spoken only Spanish for 16 years, he simply couldn't master the American accent, no matter how hard he tried. Still, that didn't stop him from having conversations with people. As far as he was concerned it was rude to just walk by and not talk to someone.