Raja, Story of a Racehorse Read Online Free Page B

stopped, whipped my head in the direction of the barns, and whinnied loudly, hoping that one of my friends would respond. I wanted to go back. It was dinnertime and everyone was eating. Annoyed, I jigged sideways and let out an impatient buck. Ken hauled on the reins and jerked me sharply, angrily, in the mouth.
    â€œWhoa!”
    I tensed and started to toss my head.
    Why is he jerking my mouth? Why is he shouting? What have I done wrong?
    As we started to jog, then gallop, Ken took a short hold on the reins and, pulling roughly, leaned his weight heavily against my mouth.
    Does he want me to go faster? Why is he nervous?
    I didn’t like this at all. He was heavy and tense, not relaxed like Pedro. He made me nervous.
    I want him off my back.
    I really want him OFF, NOW!
    Head down between my knees, I let out a big, athletic buck, then another, twisting, propping and spinning, then dropping my shoulder and scooting sideways. Ken clung on determinedly and snatched me in the mouth again.
    â€œHere!” He growled in a low voice.
    I started galloping, picking up speed, ignoring his rough pulling. I was stronger than he was, of course. As we galloped, heavy raindrops began to fall, accompanied by deep rumbles of thunder. Black clouds hurried across the sky. Suddenly, I heard a loud crack and then saw a yellow streak diving into the slick dirt track.
    Lightning!
    My heart began to pound and I heard a loud roaring in my ears. I bolted, running as fast as I could, forgetting Ken, forgetting everything but my desire to get away. Through the driving rain, flowers, bushes and trees all a multi-colored blur. Around and around and around the track, through puddles and slippery wet dirt; sucking in gulps of heavy air until, steamy and wet, flanks heaving, I began to tire and pulled up.
    Now that I had stopped galloping, I could feel the wetness of the heavy drenched saddle cloth and the slippery leather bridle. I could smell the damp earth, now covered by puddles and streams. Ken savagely yanked me out the gate off the track, jerking the bit roughly in my mouth. I tossed my head angrily and dropped my shoulder.
    I spun again but he clung on. I jigged sideways, then slipped, as I stepped on a rake lying in the path. A sharp, burning pain shot up my leg.
    Ken cursed, kicked his stirrups free and vaulted off. Still breathing hard, with rain and sweat running down the sides of his face, Ken clutched the thick, wet rubber reins and hit me across the forehead with his whip.
    â€œYou piece of garbage, no horse runs away with me! You’re a pig. You need to learn respect. I’m going to teach you a lesson!”
    By the time we came back to the barn, the stable hands had gone. Chris walked over to us with a halter in his hand.

    â€œHere. Let me help you take care of Raja.”
    â€œScram, junior, I’ll take care of him myself. This horse needs to learn some manners.”
    â€œBob said I was in charge.”
    â€œI mean it. Get out of here. NOW! Before I teach you a lesson, too!” Ken growled. Chris turned and walked away, clenching his fists. Ken put me in my stall, hot and sweaty, without washing me or tending to my cut. After a few hours, I started to shiver. I was burning hot, then freezing cold and my leg throbbed painfully. I was so thirsty. And I was starving! Ken hadn’t given me any water or hay.
    Sick and weak, I lay down and drifted into a restless sleep. Terrible dreams came to me: my mother, outlined on the hill, calling to me, “Help me. Run faster.” I started to run but something held me back, like a giant hand. I was unable to move or help her. I tried to whinny to her, but no sound came out. Then the lightning, and Ken, jeering through his brown teeth, “You’re garbage, I’m going to teach you a lesson.”
    I woke up while everyone was eating breakfast. I was too weak to get up.
    I just want to die.
    â€œBob, Chris, come quick, Raja’s sick!” Pedro shouted