(excerpt from my first novel, UNFOLDING, As It Should)

Manny loved the ponies. He would never bet the rent, because it was the furthest thing in his mind to bring more financial burden to the family. But his natural analytical side loved and studied the game. He always had a racing form rolled up in his coat pocket and would steal moments throughout the day to check the odds and who was running. Sometimes he’d sneak off to Hollywood Park, the closest track. It was in the city of Inglewood, about thirty minutes from the house.

Whenever he would make a meager profit, you could see the smile on his face a mile away upon his return. But whenever he lost, he would ease the news to Marita by stopping off at the local Chinese takeout place, the Canton Kitchen on Venice Boulevard, for her favorite dish, spicy pork chow mien with soft noodles. All the kids knew that if their dad showed up with a box of Chinese carryout food, it wasn’t a good day at the track.

As he grew older, Sam always managed to slip his dad a few bucks for Hollywood Park and sometimes even managed to accompany him there on occasion. This time solely belonged to Sam and Manny, a son and his father. There were no class or race distinctions at the track. In Manny’s circle of racing buddies everybody was equal. They always met at the same standing room spot and greeted each other with the familiarity of family, if they were there for the entire day, or just the eighth and ninth race.

     The flag is up, and there they go was belted through the loud speakers, the mood turned serious. At the beginning of every race after the starting bell rang and the sound of the individual stall gates broke open in unison there was a second of dead silence. Then suddenly the thunder of the thoroughbreds and the roar of the cheering crowd took over and these one-time strangers came together for a common purpose. They all had the opportunity to participate in the Sport of Kings.

And at the wire Sam looked at his father and saw the deep joy in his eyes and the big smile on his face. Neither of them picked up the Daily Double or Exacta.  But Manny wasn’t smiling because of the outcome, but because he got “this close” to predicting something great. While tearing up their losing tickets they looked at each other and said in unison, Yu-na-gam!

Manny and his friends all laughed together, celebrated together and cried together and swore they would get it next time.  When the day’s races were completed, they bade each other well all went their separate ways, back to their families and their jobs, masters of their own universe, pledging to meet up again soon, to try it again. Then off they would go, Manny and Sam singing arm in arm, the best of friends.

They weren’t heading to the bank, but straight to the Canton Kitchen.

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