Racing Hearts Go!

Entry by: Jim bob

13th February 2015

It was Delroys Assassin that finished any concept of me ever gambling. You see, I wasnt a betting man. My wife though, she loved to flutter, and it gave her the kind of thrill that was entirely contrary to that of the asumed buzz of a betting man. No, Nate wasnt a gambling Junkie, moreover a seeker of thrills that set her heart racing evey time she laid a bet. My capricious life accomodated her behavioural pattern pleasantly. These were usually nights that preceeded weekends; at the roulette wheel when I'd cut a good business deal, allowing me the chance to off load a little too.
'This bet is just for us, love' she'd often say to me,with green eyes that seemingly smiled. We were a team, you see, a double act if you will, where she always played the lead role, and our hearts raced, seemingly synchronously. I loved her for it. Whether at the races, or the casino, she rolled with it in true bohemian fashion. She adored the thrill; the speed of the horses, the flashing colours at the casino through a flute, or two of Crystal, the skitter of the ball as it hit the wheel, and the clinking sound it made moments prior to deciding which number to rest in. It is doubtful that, the pleasure I experienced observing her, was as great as her own enjoyment. Probably not, but, I dont think there was any other aspect of my life that I found more comforting. She'd stroll around the casino, men pouring their eyes over her elegance. That's something else. She was a beauty. Me? I was a lucky boy, if you will. She rolled with it, and her racing heart flew.

What also flew though, was Delroys Assassin, Nates dads race horse. He wasnt my favourite man; a red faced, overweight big-shot who never favoured me marrying her daughter. Delroys Assassin stood high, ebony without so much as a hint of white anywhere. As he raced, he shone, gleaming off the sun light, and standing out alone to all the runners.
' Thank you for getting him for me,' she said to me, one Saturday, after his third winning race. ' It's for us, you know'
A smile etched across her face as she hugged me. It had taken a while to persuade her father to let him go, infact a fiery argument had taken place, but for Nate, I couldnt resist, and she be came the rightful owner. Thats all of course- the training continued by the stable people. The professional care, maintained to rigorous regimes. But, Nate, rode him, and when she did, you can bet her heart raced. When she didn't ride him, she backed him. And she never lost.
'Look at the way he run's. Jack', she'd often say to me at the race course.' I'd pass her a glass of champagne, but almost always she'd spill it in the ensuing excitement, and, often without realising.
I would laugh, watching her emotions rise and fall, the ecstasy flowing accros her complexion.
'Can I race him, Jack?' she asked me one evening. We were dining at our favourite restaurant in Paris, a place we often escaped to for a weekend.
'Wont you need some kind of training for that?' I'd replied. I knew she'd had plenty of practice riding her, but knew that training had to be essential.
'Of course, I will.' she replied. 'Dont be so ridiculous, Jack. I cant simply enter in to a race without any experience.'
I remember being somewhat flummoxed, initially, by her response. Then she giggled, knowing her sarcasm had got the better of me. Immediately following the weekend in Paris, Nate got to training for a short race. It took another argument with her father to eventually get the nod, but, his temper was so harsh, his manner incredibly intrusive that, at one point, I considered giving up. I suspect that he may have enjoyed this bullying, and, am convinced to this day it was intentional. I was her husband, and wanted the best for her, and was in a position that allowed this. Nate had often told me how fearful she was of him, and it was with my advice that she kept her distance. She took it, and that was something that pleased me. Although, I never minded stepping in on her behalf, at times, I really had to work on him, even if it meant trying to get him drunk. However, sometimes that made matters worse.

Nate concluded her training after about five weeks, and with the ability to pay the right people the right money, we had a race all set the following Saturday.
The thrill of it all set Nate going so much. I could barely contain her. Eventhough she had lost some weight throughut the few weeks, her tiredness never interfered with a relentless energy.

It all looked so good at the start of the race, and Nate was flying ahead. Her head was down, and must have been a good two furlongs ahead. Although it was a short course, without fences, it seemed that Delroys Assassin wasnt considering this. He seemed to be flying, but this, apparently didnt bother Nate, for I, even from some distance, could see a huge smile on her face. I watched closely though as the horse did increase the pace, and soon the gap between her and second, was quite a way. At this stage I began to feel uncomfortable, and when Nates helmet flew off, this turned to panic. Still, the pace built.
' Stop,' I shouted from the balcony, but no-one heard, and as no spectators were amongst this private affair, their seemed little I could do. Delroys Assasin was now going so fast that she had almost lapped the other horses. I ran on to the track waving my arms about, just able to notice the distress Nate was in; her hair was flapping about her face and she was constantly using a hand to free her vision.
All this eventually finished though. Nate was thrown from the horse at such a speed that her neck was broken instantly. When I went to her, the expression on her face was one of absolute fear, an expression that she had never come close to displaying in all the years we were together. My heart was shattered that day. Sometimes these days, I consider that it was Delroys Assasin that becanme her assassin.