Destiny Dream

Destiny Smith still could not shake the previous night's dream. Who drives a car with their toes while sitting in the back seat? Obviously her dream mirrored anxiety about control. She'd read enough dream dictionaries in her 24 years to figure that much out.

"One back."

That statement jerked her back to reality.

"Good Lord," she muttered.

The other riders in the starting gates glanced nervously her way. The beginning of a race was no time to be praying out loud. Jockeys by nature were very superstitious people. She looked down the line trying to maintain a calm façade. Familiar faces all sitting on anxious horses.

The night before they'd all sat around their favorite table at Threadgill's in Austin, Texas. One more race day before everyone hit the road once again. This meet had been very lucrative for some and pure disaster for others. But for Destiny it had been finding a home. She loved the community on the backside of the track. They worked hard. Worked dangerous. Four legged athletes, who were fit, kept everyone around them watchful. One moment of lost concentration could spell a disaster for horse and handler.

Destiny focused her attention on the metal V in front of her. Through the bars she could see the straightaway. Quarter horse tracks were ovals, but the races were only ¼ mile long. Horses and jocks ran down the straight section, ending right in front of the grandstands. The crowd was loud. The announcer was giving last minute instructions to gamblers on odds and scratches.

Each stall in the gates was just wide enough for one horse, one jockey and an assistant starter, who stood on a four-inch ledge while pointing the horse's nose into the V. Her starter, Buck, quickly glanced over his shoulder toward her then immediately back to his horse's head. Adrenalin in such tight quarters could be lethal. The horses knew there was only one way out of their steel cages.

A blaring bell signaled instant opening of all the gates. Nine horses sprang forward, going from zero to 40 mph in three strides. Destiny sat in total disbelief. All the horses cleared the gates, but hers. A cloud of dirt hovered behind them. Their silhouettes barely visible as they struggled to claim their positions on the track.

Destiny's horse stood paralyzed. She quickly took stock. Hands holding reins crossed on top of neck. Feet in stirrups. Buck on platform, both arms raised over his head signaling his release.

She squinted down the track. The sun was just setting over the horizon. Her friends seemed to be moving in slow motion. Even the dust settled at an unnatural pace. She looked down again at her horse's head and neck, puzzling over his refusal to run.

"Good Lord," she said. She reached down and turned the brass key extending out of the side of her horse's neck. Metallic clanking soon turned into a slight whirring sound. Make Some Magic sprang from the gates, galloping into the sunset after the rest of the pack.

Destiny banged her forehead on the headboard as she jerked awake. Drenched in sweat she rolled to her side falling on all fours beside her bed. She faced the plastic alarm clock on the nightstand. Five a.m.

"Good Lord," she said.