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“That’s a Southern thing, I bet,” I say then, trying for a cheerfulness I don’t feel, “playing around with words and all. Must have been nice growing up in the South.”

Attila is looking at me like I’ve got three heads.

“It was okay,” he says after a minute. “What about what I said, Sal? You don’t have to do this.”

“Like I told you and Ruby before, I’m out on Disability right now and if I stay home I’m just gonna sit on the couch popping pain pills. This is a much better way for me to spend my time.”

“How come your back’s not bothering you now?”

“It only acts up when I gotta work,” I say, laughing. “Besides, I slipped it to the wife pretty good this morning. Loosened me up some.”

Attila looks a little grossed out and I can’t blame him. I’m not sure what possessed me to say that when it’s not even true.

We drive in silence the rest of the way.

I park the truck and walk with the jockey over to Robert Cardinal’s barn. Attila’s riding a couple for him this morning before doing some of Henry and Violet’s horses. I hang around as Attila talks to the trainer, getting his instructions. I walk next to one of the grooms as Attila and another exercise rider head over to the track. I’m just thinking about how, between Attila’s mood and Ruby’s not being here, this is gonna be a pretty lousy day when something weird happens.

A guy with stringy long hair suddenly starts talking to Attila. The guy’s asking the jockey about some horse named Darwin. Attila is frowning at him and doesn’t seem to know who the guy is. I walk a little closer, not liking the feel of the whole thing.

“What’s up, Attila?” I ask him as I fall in stride with him and the weird-looking guy.

“Nothing,” Attila says.

The weird-looking guy scowls at me then suddenly skulks off in the other direction.

“What the fuck was that?” I ask.

“I don’t know who the hell that guy was. You know who that is, Larry?” Attila asks the groom.

“Works for that crazy broad Carla Friedman. You know, the one works her horses in a western saddle.”

“So what’s he want with me? Who’s that horse he’s asking about?”

“Three-year-old Robert got in last month. Robert told you about him. I think he wants you riding him. We got him running maiden special weight in a coupla days. That guy’s like obsessed with the horse. I guess he’s a little soft in the head.”

Attila is frowning, looking confused. I have a funny feeling in my stomach but am not sure what to do about it. We reach the track and Attila gets on his first horse. I take out Karen’s binoculars and focus them on my charge. Nothing happens though. He works the colt then gets on another one. The sun starts to come up, burning away the fog lingering at the edges of the track. Horses gallop and flow, the sound of it like pretty thunder. Once in a while, I think about my wife and the way she shoved me away. When this gets me feeling too fucked up, I think about Layla and my mood improves.

By nine, Attila’s talking to Henry Meyer, getting instructions about a filly Henry’s going to put Attila on for the first time. Just as I’m thinking it’s gonna be pretty fucking dull keeping my binoculars on the jockey for another half hour or so, something very nice happens.

Layla comes over to huddle with Attila and Henry.

I actually find myself looking up at the sky to thank God or the gods or whatever the hell is up there.

She looks adorable in her bright orange safety vest just like Attila’s. She has her blond hair tucked up in her crash helmet. Actually, she could pass for a boy the way she’s dressed. A cute boy, but a boy. I find myself getting excited just looking at her. I’d like to pick her up and carry her over to the nearest bale of hay and peel off every single layer of her protective clothing. Henry Meyer’s got other plans for her though. He decides at the last minute he wants her riding the filly he was going to try Attila on. This worries me since I’ve been hearing about what a head case the filly is. But it’s not like I’ve got any say in the matter. Attila stays at the rail with Henry as Layla gets up on the filly’s back and steers