Post by blue_dun on Sept 30, 2008 21:56:04 GMT -5
[glow=red,2,300](Hey, I realize you already know all this, but I wrote this for a school assignment, and I had to introduce everybody to the characters,.... so bear with me. Pleeeeeeeeze?) [/glow]
It’s June 2020 and a big, slender Golden Palomino racehorse named Goldarado Jones, lovingly referred to as Goldie, stands in his stall at Pimlico Gardens, all tacked up and ready to go. His jockey, Bryant McCesar, and his helper, 12-year old Bill Harms, are the best of the best among jockeys and grooms, but really it’s the horse that is the one that gets all the media attention. In his prime this year, the hopeful Triple Crown winner has stormed both the Kentucky Derby and the Preakness Stakes, winning by fifteen furlongs or more each time.
Bill smiles as he strokes Goldarado’s silvery mane. “Bry, I have absolutely no doubt that Goldie will win the last leg of the triple crown this year. I declare, he must be faster than a deer! No, a cheetah!”
”Literally, Bill! Haven’t you heard he was clocked at 60 Miles per hour in the Kentucky Derby, a couple months ago?” Even though he seems to be concentrating on the race soon to be at hand, Bryant McCesar’s mind wanders to his girlfriend, Willowby, who is lying comatose in the hospital. His mind focuses on her eyes, her face...memories of their time spent together. Bry dreams that he will win the Triple Crown with Goldarado someday and find a cure for her with the riches earned by Goldarado’s powerful legs, but before Bryant McCesar can fantasize any more, the track bugle sounds. “All horses and riders, in line and proceed to the starting gate. Spectators, get ready to witness the greatest match in the history of this sport!”
Bryant hops on Goldie and trots him out to the track with the other 12 competitors. Once out, he concentrates on the track, his competitors, and the weather, sending him into a meditative-like state.
“Hey Br-yyy-ant,” a taunting voice breaks Bryant’s quiet. “Bet’cha a years salary that my horse will win, and if I lose, I pay you mine.” Bry’s eyes dart around, looking for the mouth connected to the words just said. His gaze finally rests on Mo Riduno, his mortal enemy since first grade, riding Jett Stream, Goldarado’s main rival.
Usually Bry is scared by Mo’s threats, but today he is prepared. He summons up all his courage and calls back, “You’re on, Mo. Get ready to get your butt kicked.”
Mo utters under his breath things too vulgar to repeat here, but Bryant pays no attention because the announcer is reading off names.
“One- Lullaby J.J., out of K.J.J. Rox and by Bedtimes on N.J., ridden by Dalton Charisma.
Two- Jett Streamers, out of Party Streamers and by Jetts Bottled Lightning, ridden by Mo Riduno.
Three- Eskimo Winters, out of Cold Eskimo and by Mr. Winters, ridden by Kiera Vroegop.
Four- Lightning Caboodles, out of Oodles Of Poodles, and by Lightning Streak, ridden by William Dante.
Five- Mr. Macho, out of Mrs. Macho and by Nacho Libre, ridden by Jeremy Cole.
Six- Goldarado Jones, out of Ruffian and by Man O’ War, ridden by Bryant McCesar.”
Bryant doesn’t hear the names of the other six contestants because he is lost in thought, working out a game plan. Suddenly his head pops up, and he whispers in Goldie’s ear, “Goldie, when we break the gate, pull up ahead fast. Keep a half-horse lead ahead of everybody, then when the half post arrives, last lap, give it all you got. Go Goldie.” Just as he says those famous words, the gate breaks open, and they’re off.
At first Bryant feels mud in his face, but soon his goggles clear, and Goldarado is doing exactly what he’s supposed to do. One lap passes. Two. Second lap, half post.
Boom! Goldie gives it all he has got, but, contrary to Bryant's plan, there is a challenger, Jett Streamer. The horses run neck to neck in a furious battle for the finish. Goldie ups his effort and speed to 60. Jett's there, half-head ahead. He ups it again to 61. Now they’re equally matched. Goldarado ups it yet again to 62. Now Goldie's a neck ahead, and Bryant's slipping from the saddle. Across the finish line as winners, but just as the crossing takes place, Bryant falls, and everything goes black.
Bryant’s story-
Bryant McCesar wakes up in heaven, resting on a cloud, looking up at the calm, peaceful sky. He jumps as suddenly he feels a presence, then a voice, that says, “Hi, Bri.”
“Willowby!” Bryant Jumps up, and runs and hugs his long-lost girlfriend. Then, looking up, he questions, “Am I dead?”
“No, this is the comatose land, between earth and heaven. Here God gives you a ticket to either earth or heaven. If He chooses earth, you wake up in the hospital. If He chooses heaven, you come to live with Him.”
“How long does it take to get a ticket?”
“Two weeks at the least, but in my case it takes two years, six months and six weeks. God had trouble deciding.”
“Six weeks until you wake up?” Bryant replies jubilantly. “I’m already excited!”
“But don’t forget that I might die also, if God wills.”
“At least we found each other again. Be glad that you’re here. I’m bored. C’mon, let’s do something.”
Over the next two weeks, Bryant and Willowby talk and catch up. Heaven is wonderful, but they are both dreading the end of the two weeks. Finally, God calls Bryant to the platform to receive his ticket. In their last moments together, the couple exchange last words; then Bryant steps up and is gone in a blinding flash of light.
The Spectators’ story-
Crowds gather around Bryant’s limp body as a doctor comes up and checks Bryant over. “Comatose,” he mutters, and calls for a stretcher.
Meanwhile, officials look over the tape that was recorded at the red ribbon.
“Bryant was actually a nose ahead when they crossed the finish line.”
“No, it was Jett. You can see from the tape.”
After a long debate, they finally called in the manager who brought in a machine which could show the tape frame by frame. Tap, tap, tap, the button goes as the tape is watched very slowly. Finally, after many reruns, a conclusion is reached.
“The winner is...”
Bryant’s limp body is taken to the hospital where he is given a diagnosis of two cracked ribs and a concussion, but nothing bad enough to put him out of horse racing when he wakes up. His parents sigh in relief as they are given his diagnosis, then are allowed to go in and sit by his bed. Bryant’s mom, Jeannie, begins to tear up as she sees her son, normally so muscular and vigorous lying peacefully under the starched sheets of the hospital bed. Collin, Bryant’s dad, hugs Jeannie and whispers in her ear, “He looks so sweet, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, Collin,” she replies through her sobs, “he does.”
Bill Harold leads Goldarado to the winner’s circle taking questions from the media, but deep inside he is worried about Bryant. Is it possible he’s dead? Even the three-toned roses placed on Goldarado’s back fail to cheer Bill up.
As the papers are released the next day proclaiming Goldarado the twelfth Triple Crown winner in the history of horse racing; still a cloud of sorrow hangs over Bill.
It’s a long, grueling two week wait; Bryant’s family and friends wondering if he will become like his girlfriend. Finally he wakes up, and joyfulness floods over the entire horse-racing community. Celebrations are held the country over in honor of the awakened jockey.
As Bryant slowly recovers, he is secretly looking forward to the end of the four weeks after which Willowby might wake up. Finally the day arrives, and Bryant finds his way to her bedside, waiting in anticipation for the verdict. Where will her ticket take her?
Around 3 o’clock in the afternoon, Willowby’s heart rate began to increase. Bryant felt his heart swell with hope, and a little after five, her eyes finally fluttered open. Groggily, she tried to form her mouth into a word:
“Bryant?” she managed to say almost under her breath.
“Willowby!” Bryant cradled her hand tenderly in his. “I am so happy! God chose earth for you!”
Willowby smiled weakly, and sighed deeply. Her eyes closed again and she fell to sleep. Bryant began to cry-but they were happy tears. His Willowby was back and he knew that they would share many more precious memories together, but none could equal the time they spent for two weeks, in heaven.
It’s June 2020 and a big, slender Golden Palomino racehorse named Goldarado Jones, lovingly referred to as Goldie, stands in his stall at Pimlico Gardens, all tacked up and ready to go. His jockey, Bryant McCesar, and his helper, 12-year old Bill Harms, are the best of the best among jockeys and grooms, but really it’s the horse that is the one that gets all the media attention. In his prime this year, the hopeful Triple Crown winner has stormed both the Kentucky Derby and the Preakness Stakes, winning by fifteen furlongs or more each time.
Bill smiles as he strokes Goldarado’s silvery mane. “Bry, I have absolutely no doubt that Goldie will win the last leg of the triple crown this year. I declare, he must be faster than a deer! No, a cheetah!”
”Literally, Bill! Haven’t you heard he was clocked at 60 Miles per hour in the Kentucky Derby, a couple months ago?” Even though he seems to be concentrating on the race soon to be at hand, Bryant McCesar’s mind wanders to his girlfriend, Willowby, who is lying comatose in the hospital. His mind focuses on her eyes, her face...memories of their time spent together. Bry dreams that he will win the Triple Crown with Goldarado someday and find a cure for her with the riches earned by Goldarado’s powerful legs, but before Bryant McCesar can fantasize any more, the track bugle sounds. “All horses and riders, in line and proceed to the starting gate. Spectators, get ready to witness the greatest match in the history of this sport!”
Bryant hops on Goldie and trots him out to the track with the other 12 competitors. Once out, he concentrates on the track, his competitors, and the weather, sending him into a meditative-like state.
“Hey Br-yyy-ant,” a taunting voice breaks Bryant’s quiet. “Bet’cha a years salary that my horse will win, and if I lose, I pay you mine.” Bry’s eyes dart around, looking for the mouth connected to the words just said. His gaze finally rests on Mo Riduno, his mortal enemy since first grade, riding Jett Stream, Goldarado’s main rival.
Usually Bry is scared by Mo’s threats, but today he is prepared. He summons up all his courage and calls back, “You’re on, Mo. Get ready to get your butt kicked.”
Mo utters under his breath things too vulgar to repeat here, but Bryant pays no attention because the announcer is reading off names.
“One- Lullaby J.J., out of K.J.J. Rox and by Bedtimes on N.J., ridden by Dalton Charisma.
Two- Jett Streamers, out of Party Streamers and by Jetts Bottled Lightning, ridden by Mo Riduno.
Three- Eskimo Winters, out of Cold Eskimo and by Mr. Winters, ridden by Kiera Vroegop.
Four- Lightning Caboodles, out of Oodles Of Poodles, and by Lightning Streak, ridden by William Dante.
Five- Mr. Macho, out of Mrs. Macho and by Nacho Libre, ridden by Jeremy Cole.
Six- Goldarado Jones, out of Ruffian and by Man O’ War, ridden by Bryant McCesar.”
Bryant doesn’t hear the names of the other six contestants because he is lost in thought, working out a game plan. Suddenly his head pops up, and he whispers in Goldie’s ear, “Goldie, when we break the gate, pull up ahead fast. Keep a half-horse lead ahead of everybody, then when the half post arrives, last lap, give it all you got. Go Goldie.” Just as he says those famous words, the gate breaks open, and they’re off.
At first Bryant feels mud in his face, but soon his goggles clear, and Goldarado is doing exactly what he’s supposed to do. One lap passes. Two. Second lap, half post.
Boom! Goldie gives it all he has got, but, contrary to Bryant's plan, there is a challenger, Jett Streamer. The horses run neck to neck in a furious battle for the finish. Goldie ups his effort and speed to 60. Jett's there, half-head ahead. He ups it again to 61. Now they’re equally matched. Goldarado ups it yet again to 62. Now Goldie's a neck ahead, and Bryant's slipping from the saddle. Across the finish line as winners, but just as the crossing takes place, Bryant falls, and everything goes black.
Bryant’s story-
Bryant McCesar wakes up in heaven, resting on a cloud, looking up at the calm, peaceful sky. He jumps as suddenly he feels a presence, then a voice, that says, “Hi, Bri.”
“Willowby!” Bryant Jumps up, and runs and hugs his long-lost girlfriend. Then, looking up, he questions, “Am I dead?”
“No, this is the comatose land, between earth and heaven. Here God gives you a ticket to either earth or heaven. If He chooses earth, you wake up in the hospital. If He chooses heaven, you come to live with Him.”
“How long does it take to get a ticket?”
“Two weeks at the least, but in my case it takes two years, six months and six weeks. God had trouble deciding.”
“Six weeks until you wake up?” Bryant replies jubilantly. “I’m already excited!”
“But don’t forget that I might die also, if God wills.”
“At least we found each other again. Be glad that you’re here. I’m bored. C’mon, let’s do something.”
Over the next two weeks, Bryant and Willowby talk and catch up. Heaven is wonderful, but they are both dreading the end of the two weeks. Finally, God calls Bryant to the platform to receive his ticket. In their last moments together, the couple exchange last words; then Bryant steps up and is gone in a blinding flash of light.
The Spectators’ story-
Crowds gather around Bryant’s limp body as a doctor comes up and checks Bryant over. “Comatose,” he mutters, and calls for a stretcher.
Meanwhile, officials look over the tape that was recorded at the red ribbon.
“Bryant was actually a nose ahead when they crossed the finish line.”
“No, it was Jett. You can see from the tape.”
After a long debate, they finally called in the manager who brought in a machine which could show the tape frame by frame. Tap, tap, tap, the button goes as the tape is watched very slowly. Finally, after many reruns, a conclusion is reached.
“The winner is...”
Bryant’s limp body is taken to the hospital where he is given a diagnosis of two cracked ribs and a concussion, but nothing bad enough to put him out of horse racing when he wakes up. His parents sigh in relief as they are given his diagnosis, then are allowed to go in and sit by his bed. Bryant’s mom, Jeannie, begins to tear up as she sees her son, normally so muscular and vigorous lying peacefully under the starched sheets of the hospital bed. Collin, Bryant’s dad, hugs Jeannie and whispers in her ear, “He looks so sweet, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, Collin,” she replies through her sobs, “he does.”
Bill Harold leads Goldarado to the winner’s circle taking questions from the media, but deep inside he is worried about Bryant. Is it possible he’s dead? Even the three-toned roses placed on Goldarado’s back fail to cheer Bill up.
As the papers are released the next day proclaiming Goldarado the twelfth Triple Crown winner in the history of horse racing; still a cloud of sorrow hangs over Bill.
It’s a long, grueling two week wait; Bryant’s family and friends wondering if he will become like his girlfriend. Finally he wakes up, and joyfulness floods over the entire horse-racing community. Celebrations are held the country over in honor of the awakened jockey.
As Bryant slowly recovers, he is secretly looking forward to the end of the four weeks after which Willowby might wake up. Finally the day arrives, and Bryant finds his way to her bedside, waiting in anticipation for the verdict. Where will her ticket take her?
Around 3 o’clock in the afternoon, Willowby’s heart rate began to increase. Bryant felt his heart swell with hope, and a little after five, her eyes finally fluttered open. Groggily, she tried to form her mouth into a word:
“Bryant?” she managed to say almost under her breath.
“Willowby!” Bryant cradled her hand tenderly in his. “I am so happy! God chose earth for you!”
Willowby smiled weakly, and sighed deeply. Her eyes closed again and she fell to sleep. Bryant began to cry-but they were happy tears. His Willowby was back and he knew that they would share many more precious memories together, but none could equal the time they spent for two weeks, in heaven.