'Shane MacGowen is a Time Bandit!'
Jack couldn't believe it. Then again, maybe he could...
'That would explain alot...'
It was the next morning and the men were gathered out upon the veranda, coffee mugs in hand. Yeats, however had absented himself early.
'I just wish Yeats had given me half a chance to speak with him!
Never again will I get close to that mystery...' Jack leaned his head on his hand.
'Ah, well, perhaps you will...Michael had said that they travel 'round alot--the band of Irish Rovers...' Al smiled into his mug as he drank, at his own wee jest.
Jack sighed. Well, it could've been worse...at least Junior stayed out of sight last night and even Yeats had cut loose somewhat. ...Many different sides to old Yeats indeed Jack mused.
'I...suppose you'll be heading Off To The Races then today?' Jack enquired of Aleister.
Al paused and gazed out over the fields. 'Thought I might!' He looked at Jack then, 'Surely you're coming as well! I think Yeats wouldn't bar you from the audience! He'll not want you riding in the race, is the thing.'
'Oohh...I don't know...'Jack demurred, seemingly lost in thought.
'Well! Suit yourself!'Al stood and stretched, 'Wonder where ole Yeats has bod off to now? He was something else last night indeed!' Al shook his head, smiling...and strode off behind the stables singing 'Wild Colonial Boy' to himself.
. . . .
Emmeline was at the Guevara's where they were readying for the race. She had made a nice apple pie spiced with hints of ginger and cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves, and had spruced up her straw hat with sprigs of lavender. Ready as a gal can be...she sighed.
Marta came up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. 'Would that we could ride, nina! Ah, city folk! All these crazy rules that just limit the fun everyone could be having! Mostly, it's just for the profits and the glory to go the few...usually white
and nearly all rich, men. Do not fret so, querida! When we head to hill country you will find villages that have their own rules, their own world in fact! And many are run by the head women, the wise curanderas! Men and women of long ago often shared power equally.'
Em looked at her. 'Truly, Marta? It sounds like a lost paradise...I would love to see such a place!'
Marta nodded. 'We shall. It will do you good! Now, play your little part today like a good bit player!' They laughed. 'We shall be rooting for your hermano Leon today--we are all familia here, Em. Your brother shall ride in your place, see...?'
Em smiled, 'Of course. He is out at the stables then?'
'Yes, he is readying El Capitan and the General for the race.'
'Ah! Who will be riding the General?'
Marta paused. 'Not sure. A friend of his, I believe...anyway, we shall meet them there. Will you find Tina and let her know, we should be on our way...Woody said he will pick us up soon.'
Em went upstairs to fetch Ernestine, or Ernestina as Marta insisted;and she had so named her daughter, but Tina believed that to be accepted more widely she should change her name to a less Latin appellative and so released the 'a' at the end and inserted an 'e' to Anglesize it. Who knew? Maybe playing that particular role was a favorable move for her. Em sighed, weary of the roles one must play nowadays...especially women, it seemed to her.When would people simply let others be themselves?
Em recalled reading storybooks when she was young wherein the young hero or knight or prince rode off to adventures and vanquished the villain or dragon and saved the village or castle to accolades and glory from all...didn't folk know that ANY child who read these stories, ALL bethought themselves that hero, that brave knight--be they man, or woman, white or black or red or Chinese or Eskimo--who wouldn't? Em sighed again. But, the hooks of 'civilization' are stabbed deep within and over time, she supposed, people just gave up and went along to their assigned 'roles'...and the only knights and princes and heros were the fortunate ones born into the 'correct' race and gender...
. . . . .
The fairgrounds sported a festive setting for the races; bunting hung from the grandstands and a community band played'neath a nearby bandstand. Quite a crowd had amassed already and all were dressed in gay spring colors and light linen suits, milling about on the greensward, drinking punch and nibbling sweets offered by vendors.
Em and Tina were taking their pies over to the table whereupon a crowd of pies were placed beneath a sheet to shield them from flies and greedy fingers.
'Thank you, ladies!'Exclaimed the woman who was Pie Overseer for the day. 'And do take your bonnets to the poles just at the end of the course, there! Here are some stiff pins to hold them down!' She pointed to the newly erected posts and handed the ladies some lethal-looking hatpins.
As they strode in that direction, Em noticed a couple of smartly dressed gents in fine cream colored linen suits and straw boaters whom she believed looked familiar. 'Stephen! Ian!' She waved to the men who waved back and walked toward them.'How good to see you! It has been ages!'
'Emmeline, you are a sight for these sore eyes indeed!' Stephen exclaimed, whilst Ian brushed a kiss over their gloves and winked, as Emmeline made introductions:
'Ah, Stephen, Ian, please allow me to introduce my good friend, Ernestine Guevara. She works as a nurse at the hospital here.'
'Pleasure, I'm sure,' and 'Enchante'!' from Ian and Stephen respectively.
'Indeed, Emmeline, so much has happened since we saw you...was it at Mendation's then, when last we met?' Stephen asked.
'It was,'and Em filled her old friends in on all that had transpired; Alice leaving, the house sold, and her
own unceremonious exit from the library and new job and residence, as succinctly as possible.
'Oh, my.' Ian and Stephen exchanged glances. 'That is ample change indeed, my dear Em! I'm afraid things have been rather the same old with us, by comparison!'
'Yes,'Ian sighed. 'SOME things never change.'He leaned closer, 'Especially Pankhurst!' he said with some derision.
Em smiled. 'I feel exactly the same...'she sighed, 'We were just taking our bonnets--(she said the word as if she had meant 'horse-pucky' instead)--over to the posts there, and delivered our pies--(again with the 'horse-pucky-'pie nuance)as prizes INSTEAD of being able to actually ride in the race for a chance at some real prize money!'
Again the glances betwixt Stephen and Ian. Ian then offered his arm to Tina who smiled and accepted, as Stephen offered his to Em and the men escorted the women to the horse-pucky, er, hat-posts.
'Ah, Emmeline...not all is as it seems...'Again, that recurring dictum! Em thought. Stephen continued: 'Here the world sees a matched set of men and women, strolling together, contentedly in the arcadian spring sunshine!'
''Hark the lark at heaven's gate sings!''Ian couldn't help himself,and busted out a soprano high 'C'!!!-- and all laughed.Ian took up Stephen's thread then,'While, as charming as you ladies are, Stephen and I would far rather be strolling arm in arm together...or, perhaps...'
his gaze went to study the crowd of young men gathered together placing bets on the race.The implication wasn't lost on Tina, ever a quick study, who squeezed his arm in sympathy and smiled.
Ian touched his hat to her, grateful for the understanding.
'You see, Em, just this morning Ian and I were discussing which sort of pie WE would like to bring, and...'as they reached the poles and Em and Tina unpinned their hats and stuck them on the posts with a stab of the long pins, Stephen sighed,'would that it were our humble boaters up there, awaiting a handsome lad to
claim ours as well-won prize!'
Well, thought Emmeline, this indeed was another view of things!
'I hadn't really thought of things in that way! Thank you, gentlemen, we stand newly enlightened,indeed!' Goodness, what did this mean, then? Were there young lads who dreamed of handsome princes riding to THEIR rescue, instead of being the ones doing the rescuing? And what did that mean, to her? Hmmm. Em had always enjoyed the company of men. She just didn't wish to keep one about her too closely for too long, just yet...the call of the open road and lure of new buena vistas was upon her...but,
Yes, Em would have much brain-fodder to chew on today...
. . . .
It was approaching starting time, and so they headed to the grandstand to locate Marta and Em had thought that the Crowley House contingent would surely show, although she'd not seen hide nor hair of them as yet.,.Tina espied Marta and Woody waving them over so they took seats beside them and studied the entries now massing at the starting post.Most were fine breeds from rich family ranches in the valley, but here and there were some feisty recusant entries, even a paint horse and one appaloosa.
Marta held a lorgnette before her and gazed at the many and varied horses and their riders, seeking Leon. 'I can see Marco and Mariposa!Oh, that filly can fly!' She smiled at Em a moment.'She'll give them a run for their money! Let's see...ah! Here comes Leon and El Capitan at last!'
'And the General?' Em enquired.
'Yes, where is Generalisimo?'Tina asked. But Marta shook her head.
A horn player from the band was approaching the starting line, bugle in hand then.
'Ah, it is soon time!' Emmeline was on pins and needles, as were they all. Suddenly, there was a familiar form at Em's elbow. 'Aleister! I wondered where you all were! Do have a seat, the race is about to start!'
'Just now got here! Grabbed a ride with Homer and Jethro. Those lads can be rather, eh, distracting!' Em could note the hint of apple-brandy on his breath.She was wondering where Jack and Yeats were, when the 'field marshall' as the locals referred to the announcer, who was also the local auctioneer, Cassius Cosell, took up a bull-horn to proclaim, in his loud, monotone, just-the-facts-ma'am-voice: 'Ladies and Gentlemen! Take your seats, the race is about to begin!'And the bugle player let fly with a musical summons.
'Gentlemen!'Cosell turned to the jockeys. 'Take your places!' The riders duly jockied for place and the horses, all over-excited and none of them professional racers, took some time getting turned about and pointed in the right direction and holding the line as well as they might.
'On your marks!'Bellowed the field marshall,bullhorn in hand. 'Get set!'
--'GO!'And the flag dropped.
'....They'rrrrre OFF AND RUNNING!' The auctioneer also was in full throttle declaiming the race as the riders thundered past the stands...'...and it's Sierra in the lead with My Little Margie in a close second, followed by Mariposa neck and neck with El Cap-i-tan for third place...followed by Black Bart, San Juan Summer, Shy Anne and Murietta...and here's Lola's Luck and Dobbins coming up on the outside,with Warhorse, Company Man, Fauxfox and BumsRush tailing last... and what is this?...it's the General! Generalisimo has come from behind and is gaining on the pack!'
'What's happening, Marta!?' Em leaned over to her, as Marta strained to see with her lorgnette, 'Who is riding the General?'
'I can't quite tell! You know, they weren't even at the starting gate on time! Oh! I can see them now!' She took the glasses away, 'It's Jack!' She handed them to Emmeline.
'WHAT??!!' Chorused Em and Aleister, as she reached for the glasses and craned forward to see...oh, my lord and lady! It WAS Jack! That great idiot! Emmeline set her mouth tight and thought: Oh, if he surivives this dam'd race, I shall surely kill him!
'By gods, he's gaining place!' Woody exclaimed, 'What the heck is he doing riding a race though? You'd think he'd still be taking things easy...'
No one commented on the obvious: that's exactly what he should be doing, but all were thinking the same thing, as they followed the pack around the track, trying to make out who was who...
'...And it's El Capitan moving in front, and Sierra has fallen back to third place! Mariposa follows a close second, and here comes the General!'
Great cheers arose for 'the horse who came from behind' for all the crowd loved the underdog and this gave the race a bit more drama and was something unexpected for them.'Ohhh...they're cheering him on!' Em's voice was anxious. 'Oh, please, Jack don't do anything rash!' Too late for that, she thought.
They were heading back round the track and the pack had spread out some as some entries tired and fell back and the group in the lead tightened together. Suddenly a paint horse
came from behind and was gaining place.
'...And it's Shy Anne! Gaining on the outside! Shy Anne is now in third place, with Mariposa in second and El Capitan leading the pack!'
Em had relinquished the glasses back to Marta and held hard onto both Aleister's hand and Stephen's, biting her lower lip and scarely breathing as she watched the outcome, and who would have the dernier cri...? She was glad to see the General fall back some, oh, Jack, just give it a rest, will you...? she begged.
They were rounding the final turn and...'...Heading into the Home Stretch!---it looks like, yes, Shy Anne is hard on their heels...! It's Shy Anne, the pin-to pony, neck and neck with Mariposa...it looks like Mariposa is taking second place by a nose...with Shy Anne coming in third and yes!...' The pack streamed past the flag and the grandstands, the crowd on it's feet and shouting, 'El Capitan is the winner, folks! El Cap-i-tan!....'
Cosell proclaimed to the crowd.
Marta and Tina screamed with glee, bouncing on the seat and clapping. Woody hugged Marta and helped her up to go greet Leon in the winner's circle. Emmeline still sat, stunned. She felt utterly exhausted. 'Em?' Stephen leaned over to her, 'My dear, you have cut off circulation in my hand.'
'Oh! I am sorry!' She released the death-grip she had on her gentlemen friends. She exhaled at last. Al and Stephen both helped her up. 'I, I am simply beside myself just now!'
'As am I,'Aleister looked none too happy himself.'This bodes not well. A good thing Yeats isn't here, but, there will be no denying the whole thing! News of the entire race will be all over town within minutes!'Al shook his head as he helped Emmeline down the steps to the grass.'At least he came to no harm. Damned bloody fool!'
Em could have said exactly the same.
. . . .
After sailing past the flag the riders continued beyond to the hat-poles and snagged a bonnet each then the winner and those who placed headed to claim prizes while the rest of the pack
were mostly dismounted and awaiting, hat-in-hand, so to speak, for the ladies to claim their bonnet and offer pie, and hopefully, perhaps a kiss as well..
Em, Aleister, and Tina all followed Marta and Woody to the winner's circle, whilst Ian and Stephen trailed along after, meandering. There they saw a jubilant Leon and a sweating, snorting El Capitan chafing under the winner's flowered horseshoe about his neck, whilst Leon accepted the winning purse which he held high as his friends and family cheered mightily. Marco and Mariposa accepted the 2nd Place prize, and the come-from-behind pinto pony, Shy Anne and her rider took 3rd.
Along with the many congratulations and jubilation from most of the well-wishers gathered about the winners, Em noticed that not all thereabouts seemed to be thrilled with the race's outcome. As none of the society elite's horses held places of rank, their
circle of friends held themselves apart from the rest of the 'rabble' crowded about the winner's circle, and looked on from a good distance away with the sour faces of a losing team...
Indeed, this may have been the first year where a pinto horse had placed, and the fact that the rider was a local Indian lad,
well...that was something Pankhurst would have to think about awhile.
Leon was leaning over whilst a lovely senorita retrieved her bonnet from him and gave him a genuinely loving kiss, holding her pie in reserve for 'later'...Marco had relinquished her hat back to Sugar, the waitress from Woody's and accepted a kiss,followed with a 'whoo-hoo!'from that lively gal. The handsome Indian lad also discretly kissed a lovely young lady as he placed her bonnet on her head, decorated with wildflowers and feathers...
Em heard a soft sigh at her shoulder, and turned to view Stephen and Ian watching the scene and actually seeming rather misty-eyed and wistful. Stephen turned to her. 'Well! We have a rehearsal at the theatre soon, and should be off, I suppose...' They took their leave quietly then and Emmeline looked after their well-starched, retreating backs and felt sympathy for them. 'Chacun a' son gout...' she thought to herself.
Hearing hoofsteps behind her, Em turned to face the General, and Jack, bearing her bonnet, hopefully...
She did not smile his way.
She stood immobile, in fact, and forced him to approach. He dismounted from the General's considerable height, and led him over to Emmeline,Jack abit shaky in the legs still.
'What are you doing here, Jack?' Was her greeting.
He looked down at her hat. 'I, I was just coming to, give you your hat.'
She looked at the hat. She didn't want to take it and she didn't want to even look his way. Jack swallowed and patted the General, who stood huffing like a steam train still. 'He ran a good race, didn't you, boy?...I had to pull him back, or he might have won!'
Em looked at him then, frowning. 'Why...why then did you even...'she sighed in exasperation. 'Why are you here, then, Jack?'
Jack looked beyond her, over to Leon in the winner's circle, being toasted with champagne now and laughing. 'That's fine, that Leon won! And Marco as well!' He shook his head in wonderment, 'And that little paint horse! Incredible!'
Em had had enough of Jack. She snatched away her hat and stamped off and away from him. 'Emmeline, please...don't go.' He followed aways til she stopped.
When they were away from the crowd, Jack looked down at her. 'I
know this will mean trouble for me...'
'Then WHY, Jack?'She demanded.
He gave a sharp intake of breath. 'I don't know.'
Oh, this was really the limit! Em couldn't believe it. 'Are you still feeling effects of the concussion? Because there's no other earthly reason for this.'
He looked down. 'Maybe.' He put a hand to his head and rubbed his forehead. 'I just...had the idea that...I could sortof sneak out, and do this, and it'd be no big thing. I had talked with Leon a couple of days ago...and no, he doesn't know any thing about what had happened with Junior...he offered me the chance to ride the General in the race. I just felt so, coddled and
denied so much else for all this time...I don't know. I feel fine, Em. I just wanted to...act normal at last. Like I'm not an invalid.'
'No, you're not an invalid. You're a mad man.' Em walked off.
Jack let her go. Softly, to himself,he said. 'No kiss, and no pie.'
. . . .
Well, that's what you get for trying to act 'normal', Jack, Em thought as she stalked off to retrieve her pie which she decided she'd give to Aleister...Jack's ideas of 'normal' were everyone else's ideas of 'insane', she realized. And where WAS Aleister, she thought, looking around.
Ah, there he was at last, having broken free of the winner's circle crowd and was approaching Jack as though he had a thundercloud over his head sparking lightning. He grabbed Jack's arm and Em could tell by the tone, although she couldn't make out the words, that he was giving Jack holy hell, as he should,
she decided. She knew that Al no doubt wanted to give Jack much more than just mere words...must be hard, for a doctor...
. . . .
Hat in hand, Emmeline retrieved her lonesome pie as indeed, it was the one bulge left there 'neath the sheet, It was a good pie, dammit, she thought, it didn't deserve this ignominius end!
She stuck her hat on her head and huffed off, angry as a vixen who had just missed catching her chicken dinner by getting stuck in the mud.
Pie under one arm she returned to the crowds trying to locate her friends. Most of the riders had taken their mounts back to the stables to walk and dry off and get their rub-down...people still stood about either celebrating and collecting their winnings, or drowning their loser's sorrows. At last she located Homer and Jethro who escorted her over to where Aleister was, sitting looking dejected, although his color was still high and Em surmised, he was still fuming about Jack.
'I brought you a pie, Aleister,' she said. He looked up, wondering, then smiled wanly.
'Thank you, Emmeline,'he accepted the dessert with good grace and then some, as she sat beside him. 'It looks lovely. Apple?'
She nodded. Al sighed then and gazed about him. 'What shall we do with him, Em?' He surprised her by asking.
'Al...you know Jack better than I...'But Al shook his head.
'No, Em, not really.,. I have known him longer perhaps, but no better.' Em didn't think this sounded good at all. She was beginning to think that perhaps Jack was slightly addled.
Homer cleared his throat. 'Well, if you all would care for a ride home, we're about outa here...'
Al looked at Em, who nodded. 'I'll just go tell the Guevaras that I'll be leaving with you...they're going to be celebrating far into the night, and I...just don't feel up for it, frankly.'
No, Em didn't feel in a celebratory mood at all.
. . . .
Ready To Run
When the train rolls by
I'm gonna be ready this time
When the boy gets that look in his eye
I'm gonna be ready this time
When my momma said I look good in white
I'm gonna be ready this time
Oh yeah...
Ready, ready, ready, ready, ready to run
All I'm ready to do is have some fun
What's all this talk about love?
I feel the wind blow through my hair
I'm gonna be ready this time
I'll buy a ticket to anywhere
I'm gonna be ready this time
You see, it feels like I'm starting to care
(And) I'm gonna be ready this time (ready this time)
Oh yeah...
Ready, ready, ready, ready, ready to run
All I'm ready to do is have some fun
What's all this talk about love?
Ready To Run
Ready To Run
Oh...
Ready, ready, ready, ready, ready to run
All I'm ready to do is have some fun
What's all this talk about love?
Ready To Run
Ready To Run
Ready To Run
Ready To Run
Ready To Run
Ready To Run
Im Ready To Run
I'm ready
Oh, I'm ready to run
I'm ready
Ready To Run
Ready To Run
--Dixie Chix
view video at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mr102My19TU
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