Read Big Book Of Lesbian Horse Stories Online
Authors: Alisa Surkis
Big Book Of Lesbian Horse Stories (14 page)
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It was like Ginger said. As much as she fought it, Terry found herself in that white and gold suite after almost every race. She felt split in two as she bounced between Silky's back and Ginger's bed. Race after race went by and each time word would come down from the boss to finish in the money, out of the money, pull up lameâwhatever was needed so that the right people would go home happy. And afterward the gleaming Phantom Arrow would be waiting for Terry. Terry could feel Shorty's beady eyes watching her as she got in. He said nothing, just leered more than ever as he gave her instructions for each race. The orders always came down through ShortyâTerry and Ginger never talked about Silky or anything to do with horses or the track. Sometimes they never talked at all. When Terry slid her hand under Ginger's silver fox furs and found flesh as soft as Silky's muzzle, she felt like this thing between her and Ginger was enough. But when she was with Silky, a voice inside her head told her this couldn't last, shouldn't last. Terry didn't want to listen to it.
Then one day there was no word from Shorty before the race. When Terry spurred Silky on to the track, she realized with a sudden jolt that she could run this race the way she wanted. It was only a cheap claiming race, but Terry and Silky ran as if it were the Kentucky Derby, leaving the second-place horse behind by twenty lengths. Afterward, Terry hailed a cab, too impatient to wait for the Phantom Arrow. She had to see Ginger right away. Ginger had to know how Terry dreamed of winning. Was this her way of giving in? Was she starting to care about Terry?
Terry flew up the stairs to Ginger's suite, a box of roses under her arm. Her hand was on the doorknob when she heard voices inside.
“I told you, I didn't have time to get to Shorty!” Ginger's voice had a pleading tone that Terry had never heard before.
“I dunno what Ginger's story is here, but you know you can count on me, JimmyâI didn't hear nothing, so I didn't do nothing. Me, I just do what I'm told.”
Terry recognized Shorty's familiar whine, but the next voice was unfamiliar.
“Save the excuses, old manâthat damn horse won by twenty lengthsâyou know what that does to the odds?”
Ginger was talking again. “Maybe we could figure a way to work these odds in our favor.”
There was silence for a moment and then the stranger spoke again. “You trying to tell me how to run my business, honey?”
“No, Jimmy, you got me all wrong. I know who calls the shots.” Terry almost didn't recognize Ginger's voice, she sounded so subdued.
“All right doll, just so you don't forget.” The menace in the stranger's voice was unmistakable.
“Yeah, Jimmy, you're the one with the brains. Everybody knows that. My girl here screws up again, I'll be the first to let you know. You can count on that, Jimmy.”
“My girl?” Terry wondered.
The voices had been coming closer, and Terry managed to slip behind the door just as it opened. Through the crack between the door and wall she caught a glimpse of this Jimmy, a big man, well dressed and genial-looking, except for his small hard eyes. “You're looking good these days, doll,” he said, reaching up to grasp Ginger's chin and turn her head from side to side. “Am I still your best fella?”
“Of course, Jimmy.”
Jimmy gave a humorless laugh as he released Ginger's face, then turned and headed down to the waiting elevator, Shorty shuffling behind him. Ginger stood in the doorway, watching them until the elevator had closed, and then she went back inside, closing the door. Terry was alone in the hallway again.
Terry felt like she'd been punched in the stomach half a dozen times, or maybe it was more like Silky had up and kicked her in the head. The blinkers were off nowâshe was just a little side dish to keep Ginger amused when Jimmy wasn't around, and Silky's win had been a mistake. She and Silky were no closer to their goal than they'd been before.
Terry drew a deep breath. The time had come to be true to Silky. She might as well finish with that two-timing dame now.
When Terry opened the door, Ginger was sitting on the edge of her white leather divan, her face pale, her eyes staring at nothing. Her gloves and hat were on the white leather love seat, as if she'd just come in and thrown them there. She turned quickly at the sound of the door, her hand going automatically to her purse. When she saw Terry, she relaxed a little.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in. I didn't send the car for you.”
“I came on my own two feet.”
“What do you know, you got your own transportation. Drink?” As Ginger got up, Terry's eyes were drawn to the gray tailor-made and she couldn't help noticing the way it showed off Ginger's figure.
“Sure.” Terry slumped into a chair.
Ginger poured a Scotchâdouble, just the way Terry liked itâand handed it to her. “What's in the box?”
Terry had forgotten about the roses she carried under her arm. She looked down at them. “I got roses,” she said. “To celebrate winning the race. Silky came in first, just like I knew she could.”
“Yeah, I heard,” said Ginger. “Sorry, honey, but I wouldn't count on too many more of those.”
“Skip the song and dance, Ginger, I know the score,” said Terry, suddenly boiling mad.
Ginger looked surprised. “What do you mean, you know the score? What score do you think you know?”
“I heard you in here with your boyfriend Jimmy,” said Terry. Ginger set her drink down hard, an exclamation on her lips. “Save it, Ginger,” said Terry. “You've been using me, yeah, and two-timing me for a while, but the ride's over now. I'm getting out of this racket.”
“Why, you two-bit jockey, you think you're walking out on Ginger Delmonico? After all I've done for you?” Ginger was white with fury.
“Sure you've done a lot for me,” jeered Terry, all the bitterness inside her pouring out. “I guess I should be grateful a dame like you would even give me the time of day. What else have I got the right to expectâme, the daughter of a drunk who took off before I was fourteen, no brains, no education, no good for anything or anybody, just a sawed-off runt who's got a way with horses. Thanks, lady, but no thanks to your dirty job, and your dirty racket!”
Ginger grabbed Terry's arm as she turned to leave. “You think it was an accident, you winning today? You think I won't pay for that pretty trophy you won?”
“Wh-what are you talking about?” Terry stuttered.
“You think Jimmy is my boyfriend? I got news for you, sisterâhe's my ex-husband. Maybe you've heard of Jimmy “Snake Eyes” Galanti?”
Terry gasped. Jimmy “Snake Eyes” Galanti had his finger in every gambling racket in Cook County.
“Silk Stockings is what you might call alimony,” Ginger continued. “Or maybe it's just Jimmy's way of making sure he'll always have his hooks in me. Sure, I was married,” she said in answer to Terry's shocked look.
“Your old man left you high and dry?” Ginger went on. “You should count yourself lucky. My old man never had any use for me until I found my way into a little of the green stuff and he hasn't stopped trying to farm my cabbage patch ever since. Yeah, that Shorty, he's some kinda father.”
“Shorty!” gasped Terry.
“Yeah, Shorty. So don't come crying to me about lousy fathers. You bet I married Jimmy. Growing up in my neighborhood, there was only one way out for a girl and that was to find some joe who had what it took and hitch along for the ride. Jimmy was the guy with all the angles and that made him the guy I wanted. Of course, I had my angle and it was a doozy, but I figured if Jimmy didn't know it was the dames I went for, well, it wouldn't hurt him any.”
“Haven't you ever been square with anybody?” Terry couldn't help asking.
Ginger stopped pacing and glared at her. “What'd you want me to do? The only way loving some broad was gonna get me out of that neighborhood was if it bought me a trip to the state pen. Besides, I don't see you being any kind of saint. I think you know as well as the next gal how to do what you gotta do and maybe what you gotta do is different from what I did but that don't make you any better.”
Terry bit her lip. Ginger was right about that!
“So Jimmy does a guy a favor and goes to Joliet for a couple years. Then the guy collects on some favors from a judge he knows and Jimmy's out on parole. He thinks he's going to surprise me.” Ginger gave a short, humorless laugh. “Well, we were both surprised. He finds me in bed with a girl, and to make it worse, this particular tomato is an old friend of Jimmy's, if you know what I mean. He slaps me around pretty good, and tosses me out. A couple weeks later I get the ownership papers for Silk Stockings in the mail. He needed an owner with a clean bill of health, and everybody knows Jimmy's got a record longer than the racing sheet. And then Shorty shows up to keep an eye on me. Try telling him blood's thicker than water and see how hard he'll laugh.”
Ginger paused to take a breath, and when she spoke again, her voice had a sobbing sound, like a violin at a Hungarian restaurant.
“So here I've been, trying to stash away enough to clear out, and then you come along with your crazy dreams and your heart in your eyes, and those strong, gentle handsâ” Ginger stopped herself, biting her lip.
Terry sat there, her head in a whirl! It was all so confusingâJimmy was Ginger's ex-husband! Shorty was her father! Then Ginger's mother must have been the tall one, Terry thought, trying to piece it all together. She stared at Ginger, who was tossing back another drink. Terry's head ached, as if someone had spent the evening pounding on it with a ballpeen hammer. Ginger poured herself a third drink, and knocked it back. There was something Terry's brain was trying to tell her, something about Silky and the spirited way she tossed her head right before a race. SilkyâGingerâGingerâSilkyâWhen Terry stared at Ginger, it seemed as if the horse was in the room with them, pawing the cream-colored carpet.
“What are you looking at?” Ginger demanded crossly.
Suddenly it all came together, like a starting bell going off in her brain, and Terry almost laughed out loud. She was all done with being torn in two! She didn't have to choose between Silky and Gingerâthe path to the finish line was the same for both these fillies! Both of them were being ridden into the ground by Jimmy, and it was up to Terry to knock him off their backs. And she thought that maybe she had the plan to do it.
“Listen,” she said eagerly, her words tumbling over each other. “Today at the stables everybody was talking about the Bluegrass Stakes, and how Sailor's Delight is going to be running. All we gotta do is get Silky into that race and we're home free!”
“What?” Ginger was confused, but she saw that Terry wasn't walking out so she kept talking. “You've got a one-horse mind, kid. I've just finished telling you that Silky isn't going to get any more chances to win. Jimmy's in the saddle,
capisce?
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capisce?
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“But this isn't just any other race! When Silky wins the Bluegrass, she'll be so famous, Jimmy and his gang won't be able to touch her! Or you!”
Terry saw a faint hope growing in Ginger's eyes, but she had to play it tough. She was that kind of dame.
“Did that nag kick you in the head or something? How's she going to win the Bluegrass Stakes? Now don't get soreâI know you think this filly is fast, but she's never run in a race that's more than bush league and now you think she's going to win the biggest race of 'em all?”
“She's raced against Sailor's Delight. He's going to run the Bluegrass and Silky could have beat him.”
“Slow down, kid. I know all about Sailor's Delight, and yeah, you got it right that he's going to run, but even he isn't in the same league. I got the inside dope and that horse won't go off at less than thirty-five to one.”
Terry knew that Ginger was looking at this thing the smart way. Right now, at least she and Ginger were alive with all their parts in working order. If they entered that race and lost, that would all change pretty quick. Ginger was smart, but Terry knew something that Ginger didn't. Terry knew that there wasn't any race anywhere that Silky couldn't win. She grasped Ginger's arms, looking intently into her eyes.
“Your job is to get Silky into the race. My job is to win it. I know I can do my job. Can you do yours?”
A challenge was never wasted on Ginger Delmonico. She knew a few people who would do a favor for her and keep it quiet, and she went about securing a spot in the biggest event in horse racing for a filly who'd won only a few small-time races at a small-time track. It wasn't easy and it wasn't cheap. Terry realized that one day when she went up to Ginger's suite. Something was missing. “Your gold and crystal bar!” she exclaimed.
“I hocked it,” said Ginger. “I was drinking too much anyway.” Terry went to Ginger's closet and opened it. “And your silver fox furs!” she lamented.
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