Chapter 1
Ten thoroughbreds thunder around the final curve of the nine-furlong track. Jockeys, with heads down and butts up off the saddle, push their horses to the limit. The prize? One-half million dollars.
Announcer, Chip Goings, is up in the press box calling the race. “Here they come, tempting the fates with force and speed... A half-million-dollar purse on the line... It’s One Trick Pony ahead on the inside.”
Co-announcer, Marty Brock, adds the color, “Batons whip. Muscles pulsate. Hooves dig in and kick back sandy loam. Horses snort and gulp for air, with fire blazing in their eyes.”
Chip’s pitch and intensity rise, “Coming into the final stretch, it’s Forever Young surging on the outside, ridden by nineteen-year old upstart, Cokey McAlpine.
Spectators rise to their feet. Cheers erupt from some and groans from others. Glenn and Nancy McAlpine, Cokey’s parents, watch intensely. He’s proud. She’s nervous.
“It’s neck and neck, Forever Young and One Trick Pony,” Chip reports. “The finish line looms just ahead. It’s... Forever... Now, it’s One Trick... It’s... too close to call. That’s not the name of a horse. It’s really too close to call.”
The finish line camera flashes, creating a brief, freeze-framed, silhouette of the two horses, literally nose-to-nose. Suddenly, the forelegs of Forever Young buckle, sending horse and rider slamming head long into the ground. Cokey’s helmet strap breaks.
“Forever Young is down, Cokey McAlpine’s helmet is off.”
The approaching horses and riders trip, tumble and crash over them. Horror sweeps the crowd.
Cokey, without helmet and unconscious, is kicked and fallen upon. A horse’s hoof comes into view and slams into the left side of her head. Glenn and Nancy look in dread.
Nancy McAlpine screams, “Cokey, honey. Get up.”
Besides Cokey and Forever Young, four other riders and horses go down. A violent dust storm swarms up and engulfs them. Nancy clutches around Glenn in a death lock.
Glenn remains calm on the outside, but rages on the inside, “Come on, baby girl.”
Two ambulances, blare onto the track with blue and red lights blazing.
In the press box, Chip looks helplessly on, and with a tremble in his voice he informs his audience, “This has to be the worst accident in horse racing history. How could anyone survive this?”
Glenn and Nancy rush to the scene behind five medics and a track official. The track official intercepts and restrains Nancy, who is wild-eyed with panic.
Nancy blasts the track official, “I’ve got to get to her.”
“The medical personnel are handling it,” he retorts.
Glenn presses on. The track official restrains him. “She’s our daughter, sir. Get out of the way.” Glenn pushes past him and pulls Nancy along. They take positions right behind the medics.
Nancy screams, “Cokey. Cokey.”
The field doctor turns around. “She can’t hear you.”
“Why? Why can’t she hear me?” Nancy starts to shake.
“She’s unconscious. If you’re the parents, I understand your concern, but you need to step back and let us do our job,” he insists.
Glenn moves in front of Nancy’s view, “Shh. Shh. He’s right. Back up hon.” Glenn puts his arm around her to calm her.
The field doctor, whips out his walkie talkie, “Get the chopper to Remington Park immediately. At least one, female, nineteen years, head concussion, possible multiple injuries.”
Horse trainers run to the horses. Three horses get up immediately. Forever Young and one other horse stay down. Forever Young’s breathing is extremely labored. It continues to slow down. A gust of wind brings an obscuring cloud of dust. Forever Young’s breathing grows softer, smaller, silent.
