The Week at Mon Repose by Margaret Pearce

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    Allie chewed her fingernails as she and her friends listened to the blared and distorted voice on the loudspeakers.
    â€œThe disqualified Teddy Boy has moved ahead of Whitey and Kaydin. They are three fast horses stirring up the dust.” Then in a different voice. “Kaydin has taken exception to the parrots. Young Allison’s having trouble holding him on course. Silly as a wet weekend, that Kaydin! He’s on the track anyway, so he’s still in with a chance. Captain John is now neck and neck with Melinda, with Candy behind.”
    The horses moved into sight from around the clump of trees. Teddy Boy was leading, as the loudspeaker told everyone, with Whitey, Melinda, Captain John, Candy, and Bilco strung out single file behind them, with Kaydin coming up in the rear.
    â€œStill fifth in the race,” Allie said with a groan.
    â€œCaptain John making his run,” blared the loudspeaker.
    Captain John moved ahead of Melinda, and Whitey and caught up with Teddy Boy. Captain John moved sideways and veered into Teddy Boy who spun around and bucked. His rider fell off. The other horses flashed past.
    Allie watched in admiration as a teenage boy swung a picnic rug over Teddy Boy’s head and clung grimly to the blinded horse as the horse swung his head around trying to get free.
    â€œJohnno should have used the heavier bit,” Mr. Marybone said. “Fancy falling off!”
    â€œWhitey in the lead, Melinda second, then Candy, and Kaydin’s coming up fast,” the loudspeaker blared.
    The horses vanished out of sight around the hill. Everyone waited tensely. Allie listened to the loudspeaker as it blared out the horses’ positions. The caller sounded breathless and excited. The horses appeared around the curve of track. Allie’s heart sank. Whitey was still ahead, and the other horses in the same position behind him.
    It was impossible to hear the blare of the loudspeakers over everyone yelling. Kaydin moved up and was racing neck and neck with Caliph. Melinda’s rider spurred her. She caught up with Whitey.
    â€œMelinda’s making her run for it,” blared the loudspeakers.
    For several seconds Melinda was neck and neck with Whitey, and then fell behind again.
    â€œTold you so,” Mr. Marybone said. “Old George shouldn’t have pushed Melinda early in the race.”
    The horses galloped down the track and towards the turnoff to the edge of the oval and the finish line. Allie unclenched her fists with an effort and remembered to keep breathing. It was the most exciting race she had ever watched.
    The loudspeaker blared into incoherence. Everyone yelled louder. Caliph moved ahead of the taller grey. The crowd roared.
    â€œAnd Candy the Arab wins by a neck,” blared the loudspeakers. “Whitey second and Kaydin third. Teddy Boy disqualified. Still waiting to hear how Bill Jackson is and this has been the most exciting race I’ve ever called.”
    â€œGood horses, them Arabs,” Mr. Marybone was saying as they crowded down the hill and across to where the three horses were being walked across to the wooden dais that had been used for the line dancing.
    The two Rangers waited with rosettes and white envelopes. There were speeches and Ahmed’s hand was shaken as he was given the envelope, the ribbon and rosette. Everyone cheered, Allie and Jenny as loudly as anyone. The second and third prizes were handed out to Billy Jones and Allison West.
    â€œI’m heading to the Pound,” Ahmed said out of the side of his mouth as he nudged Caliph through the cheering crowd. “Meet you back at Mon Repose.”
    He moved Caliph over to the edge of the oval in an easy walk and vanished behind the curve of the hill.
    â€œCaliph will have to take his time getting there after that race,” Marilyn said thoughtfully. “He’ll be tired.”
    â€œSo?” Allie asked.
    â€œNothing,” Marilyn said. ‘See you at