The Girl Who Rode the Wind. Stacy Gregg

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Название The Girl Who Rode the Wind
Автор произведения Stacy Gregg
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isbn 9780008124328



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track there in every single workout.”

      “Is she ready to race?” Nonna asked.

      My dad nodded. “This Thursday at Churchill Downs is her maiden. Frankie’s told me on the down-low that she’s a sure bet to win it. And the odds, Loretta.” My dad’s voice dropped to a low whisper. “She’s paying out at seventy-three to one.”

      Nonna Loretta’s face fell.

      “Absolutely not, Raymond!”

      “Listen –” my dad began, but he was cut dead by Nonna.

      “No, Ray, you listen to me! How many rules do we have in this family?”

      There was silence around the table. None of us dared to speak when Nonna was in full flight like this.

      “Two rules, Ray!” Nonna sure had a powerful voice for a little old lady. “Two rules that the Campiones live by. We don’t bet on horses and we don’t tell lies.”

      I felt myself curl up a little, trying to make myself smaller as she said this.

      “But, Loretta!” My dad bounced back. “This horse, she’s a machine. She’s gonna win by ten lengths and nobody will ever see it coming! And seventy-three to one! Maybe even more. The bookies will –”

      “The bookies will take your money because that’s what bookies do,” Nonna Loretta said stonily.

      My dad took a deep breath. “I’m telling you …”

      “No, Ray,” Nonna said. “I’m telling you. The racing business is how we make our money, but betting on races is different. That’s a sure-fire way of losing the lot. We’ve made it this far without betting on horses, haven’t we?”

      My dad sighed. “All right, all right. I thought, just this once …”

      Nonna’s scowl deepened.

      “OK,” Dad said. “I get it. No betting, period. OK?”

      “Aww, c’mon,” Donna groaned. “Can’t he place just a little bet, Nonna? There are these new high heels that are on sale right now at Macy’s that I would love …”

      Donna saw the look on Nonna Loretta’s face and shut her mouth real quick.

      I didn’t say a word. I was just glad that the whole argument had taken the attention away from me and while they’d all been talking, I’d been busy cleaning my plate.

      “May I be excused, please?” I asked.

      “You’ve finished already?” Nonna raised an eyebrow.

      “Sure, Lola,” Dad said. “Have you got homework tonight?”

      “No,” I said truthfully. “No, I don’t.”

      As I left the table I heard Nonna Loretta ask my dad, “So that filly Frankie tipped you off on. What’s her racing name?”

      “Aces High,” my dad replied.

      It was a good name, I thought. I don’t know much about playing poker but I’m pretty sure that aces high usually wins.

      The next morning I said goodbye to Nonna and started walking to school. I took the usual cut-through at Sutter Street, clambering through the fence into the park. And that was where I stopped. I sat there on the swing set, rocking back and forth and thinking about what to do.

      I had never told a lie like this before. The problem was, I had left it too long now to come clean and had made it worse. I got down off the swings and sat inside the playground’s plastic crawly tunnel for a bit, worried that I would get seen by someone if I stayed out in the open for too long. Then I realised I was acting ridiculous. I couldn’t turn up here every day and hide in a plastic tube. I had to tell the truth. I had to go and talk to Dad.

      It was almost ten o’clock by the time I reached the track. Dad would have finished working the last of the horses by now. He would be back in his office doing the paperwork.

      Dad called it an office, but really it was just a loose box like the ones the horses used, except with a desk and a filing cabinet in it, instead of straw on the floor.

      I was walking past the stalls when I heard the sound of hoof beats behind me.

      “Hey, Lola!”

      It was Johnny and Vincent. They had just finished a workout; both their horses were sweating and blowing.

      “I’ve got to see Dad,” I said, ignoring them and walking towards the office.

      “I wouldn’t go in if I were you,” Vincent said.

      I kept walking.

      “Mr Azzaretti is in there.”

      I turned around. “Are you serious?”

      “What’s going on, Lola?” Johnny asked. “It must be pretty bad if old man Azzaretti is making house calls.”

      Johnny and Vincent were always in trouble at school, but never once had they been in enough trouble for Mr Azzaretti to turn up at our place. That achievement was mine alone.

      “Maybe you should go home, Lola?” Johnny looked worried. “We’ll tell Dad you were —”

      As he said this, the door to the office opened and Dad walked out, with Mr Azzaretti beside him.

      Mr Azzaretti looked relieved to see me. “Well, at least we don’t have to file a missing persons report,” he said.

      Dad, on the other hand, looked furious. “Do you know the trouble you’ve put Mr Azzaretti to? He came all this way down to see me, taking time out of his day because he wanted to know how you were doing and why I hadn’t contacted the school about your suspension. So I say ‘What suspension? My Lola’s at school right now’ –”

      “Dad,” I broke in. “I’m sorry. I know I should have said something sooner, but I was coming to tell you now.”

      “Anyway,” Mr Azzaretti said. “I don’t see any reason to involve the school further now that you’ve turned up. It’s family business as far as I’m concerned.” He turned to my dad. “I’ll leave this with you, Ray.”

      My dad shook his hand. “Thanks, Arlo, you know how much I appreciate you coming by.”

      “She’s a good kid, Ray,” Mr Azzaretti said, as if I wasn’t standing right there. “The brightest in her year. I hate to see her mess it up, that’s all.”

      He gave me a very stern look as he said this, and then he turned and walked away. No one said anything and the only sound was Mr Azzaretti’s shoes in the corridor until he was gone.

      “Get in the car, Lola,” my dad said. “We’re going home.”

      I was prepared for Dad to tear strips off me. What I wasn’t able to handle was the silent treatment. All the way home he said nothing. It wasn’t until we were getting out of the car that he spoke to me.

      “Why did you do it, Lola?”

      “Because he was bullying me,” I said, tears welling up in my eyes. I hated crying. I never cried. “He was teasing me and he wouldn’t stop, no matter what, and then he started going on about my shoes and they were the ones that Nonna bought me and I just couldn’t stand it any more and I hit him.”

      “You should have told me about it,” my dad said. “You know how lucky we are that his parents aren’t pressing charges?”

      “I’m sorry.” I was sobbing now. I thought he was gonna be furious, but he just put his arm around me and gave me a hug.

      “My girl can throw some punch, huh?” He ruffled my hair. “That Mayo kid won’t mess with you again, I bet.”

      When Johnny and Vincent found out, they both thought it was hilarious. At dinner, they started calling me “slugger”. Like “Hey,