The next summer Bud and Lester put me in charge at Park Jackson — I kept their horses for them on the racetrack grounds. Sometimes I had four horses, sometimes three. I was there all week, alone. I did everything. They gave me a workout schedule and I carried out the orders. On weekends they’d drive up from Denton for the races.

Did quite well. Very successful. We were in the money — meaning first, second, third, or fourth place — at least sixty-five, seventy percent of the time, which is phenomenal.

I lived in a trailer park with other racetrackers. My trailer was a mile, mile and a quarter out. Four o’clock feed — I didn’t have a car. I’d start walking across a field in the dark at three fifteen in the morning.

I worked all day at the track. Never left. Most people did. I wouldn’t barely break to go to the track kitchen to get a bite to eat and I was right back with the horses. People, they knew I was dedicated.

I was known as the Coca-Cola kid because everyone wanted to buy me a drink, get me drunk, but I’d ask for soda instead. Not to say I never overdid it — but it was rare. You say okay to one drink, then suddenly you’ve got twenty more in front of you, and twenty people telling you to swallow it.

NOTHING NICE

Those racetrack trailers were run-down, really dilapidated — nothing nice.

A goose lived there. As soon as you stepped out your door the goose would come and — bam! — she’d nail you in the back of the leg.

There were goats. One day I was sick, lying down with the door open because it was so hot — no air-conditioning, just a fan — and when I woke up, a goat was next to me, chewing on my sleeve.

My bedroom looked out on a cow pen and at night I’d listen to them moo.

Whenever it rained, there’d be water everywhere pouring down — fucking bucket bucket bucket, pails pails pails.

My mom and dad came to visit after I got my finger half bitten off by a horse. When they first got there, my dad was busy poking around. He said, What the hell is a butcher knife doing sitting in the window?

Well, I had these knives. I had this butcher knife. I kept it handy. You never know.

KEY TO THE QUARTER POLE