A Good Horse by Jane Smiley Page B

me. She said, “That’s a very expensive mare, Abby, and Black George has her beat at this point. She’s perfect in the hack class and often wins, but she has a bit of a Roman nose.”
    “What difference does that make?”
    “The judge will
always
go for the pretty one, if all things are equal.”
    “Daddy says a pretty head is worth money.”
    “Sad to say, he’s right. It’s only English people who think a Roman nose is a sign of character in a horse.”
    The hack class was called, and the other horses began tofile into the ring. Jane sent me in right after Sophia and her mare, which I now knew was named Lorena, as in “The years creep slowly by, Lorena,” one of Daddy’s favorite non-hymns. I knew without Jane saying anything that my job was to stick with Lorena and get between her and the judge as often as I could without seeming rude or pushy. Sophia knew that, too. I could tell by the way she sometimes looked at me that even if the day before she might not have known my name or who in the world Black George was, now she did. I also knew that she could see that my sleeves were too short and my boots too tight and my breeches too big.
    The announcer asked for a trot, and I lifted my chin and floated by her, sort of the way the Big Four floated by the rest of us in seventh grade, as if we weren’t to be looked at. No, that was wrong. The real thing to do was to float by everyone the way the Goldman twins did—not feeling self-conscious at all, just going about your much more interesting life because it actually is much more interesting. I thought, Alexis Barbara Alexis Barbara, and passed two of the others, too, including the woman who always fell off. I could hear her talking: “Easy now. Easy now. Settle down!” Her horse did not look excited, though. We were asked to reverse. This time, I didn’t pass Sophia and Lorena. I stayed two lengths behind them and matched them stride for stride. Only when we came to the end of the arena did I let Black George go to the inside and pass them. Sophia gave me a dirty look, which I
felt
but did not
see
.
    Now we were told to canter. I sat down, lifted my inside hand. I felt Black George lighten up his shoulder and rise to the canter like a bird rising on a breath of air. It was delicious.Frankly, it was so pleasant that I forgot for a moment about Sophia and winning and eleven thousand dollars, and just cantered to the end of the arena for fun. Then we were asked to hand-gallop. I got into my half seat, and Black George extended his stride. It occurred to me that the easiest thing to do right then would be just to keep going and jump right out of the arena.
    But I didn’t do that.
    When I passed Jane, she was smiling.
    Halt.
    We halted.
    Trot on.
    We trotted on.
    Reverse.
    We reversed and then cantered again.
    I guess it was about then that I realized that I had lost track of Sophia and Lorena completely and in fact was more or less off in my own little world.
    Then the others were lining up, so we came down to the walk and turned across the center. In the row of horses and riders, I stood between the little bay and the falling-off lady. The announcer called my name and the ringmaster held up the blue ribbon, and I walked right up to him as if I had expected that very thing. I held out my hand. He put the blue ribbon in it. I was so excited without realizing it that I headed the wrong direction, and Jane had to wave to me to get me to come out of the arena.
    Five minutes later, I had a little silver dish in my hand. It was very pretty, small, with six petals, like a flower, and writing—thename of the horse show and the word
Champion
written on it. The championship ribbon was larger than the regular ribbons, with a long blue streamer, a long red streamer, and a long yellow streamer. Jane hung it from Black George’s browband, down the side of his face. He looked very elegant.
    Jane was grinning, and as we walked by Colonel Hawkins, she looked him in the eye and