Dream Riders

by Jesse Blackadder

  I knew that name, I realised, as I went to get Zen some water. It was painted on a gate just down the road from Viv’s place. I’d already passed it at least six times, but it hadn’t occurred to me that it might be horse-related. The “Pocket” part of the name was obvious – seeing as that was the name of the whole valley. But what about the dreams?

  “Excuse me, Frankie!” someone called as I was staggering with Zen’s saddle and bridle into our float. I turned to see the glaring girl striding towards me.

  Six

  “I just realised you’re in my year at school,” said the girl accusingly.

  Without her hard hat on, she looked familiar, I realised. Her dark hair was braided into a tight French plait at the back of her head, whereas at school she wore it long and straight over her shoulders. Her shirt was buttoned up to her throat and her boots and jacket covered every inch of her, but when she was wearing her school uniform you could see she had a glowing tan. I was surprised I hadn’t recognised her, though, because she still looked tall and perfect.

  “Can I talk to you about something? It’s Frankie, right?”

  “Yes, and you’re Violet?”

  “Listen,” she said, coming closer.

  I felt curious, and a little bit pleased. At school she’d never even acknowledged me.

  “I know your mum is friends with Oliver …”

  “Well, they knew each other a long time ago …”

  “And you’re a lot of fun,” she interrupted, raising her eyebrows. “The girls thought you were hilarious out there. But here’s the thing.” Her dark brown eyes met mine, and I noticed she was wearing eyeliner. “Don’t you think you ought to learn the basics of riding before you join our pony club?”

  My cheeks burned as though they’d been slapped.

  “I’m not trying to be mean or anything – like I said, the other girls just adore you already – but we’re actually very serious about our riding. We don’t usually play games. Ever, actually. We’re all experienced riders, and we’re hoping to win the dressage and maybe even overall first place at the Show this year.”

  I swallowed. I wanted to say something funny now, but my mind had gone blank.

  “You might not know this, but the Byron Shire area is now the number one teen trialling ground in the state.”

  “Yes, I know,” I managed to say. I also happened to know, from talking with Mum, that the horse trials for the Olympic riding team happen completely differently. They had nothing to do with the Show – or any other events in the Byron Shire area, for that matter – but because Oliver lived here, it had become a bit of a magnet for promising young riders. Mum said the media liked to do stories on the young hopefuls every year.

  “I’m sure there must be plenty of instructors around here who would be happy to teach you,” said Violet.

  I stepped away from her and bumped into Zen, who stood solid as a rock behind me.

  “There’s also a very nice club for more amateur riders at Tweed Heads.”

  “Tweed Heads is a forty-minute drive away! And besides, this club is for amateurs,” I finally managed to say.

  “Not really.” She smiled, and her white teeth shone. “I don’t know if you know this, Frankie, but I might be trying out for the State Championships next year, and then the Nationals, and then after that, the Olympics.”

  “No, I didn’t know that.” How would I know? Was she famous?

  “Listen, I have to run, but enjoy the rest of your weekend, okay?” Violet smiled at me almost sympathetically. “I’ll see you at school on Monday.”

  “Yeah, see you at school,” I managed to reply, trying to sound casual.

  Right on cue, Zen farted.

  Seven

  “What. A. Cow!” I exclaimed as I climbed into the front seat of Mum’s station wagon.

  “Frankie!” said Mum, frowning at me as she started the car.

  “I’m sorry, but she is. This girl, Violet – I cannot believe how she just talked to me!”

  “Maybe we should discuss this later.”

  “And Zen!” I continued, raising my voice over the sound of the engine. “You won’t believe everything he’s done to me today!”

  “Hi Frankie,” said a voice from behind me.

  I bit my lip and sunk down in my seat, closing my eyes tightly for a moment before forcing myself to turn around. “Hi, Kai. I thought you were asleep.”

  “I was.”

  “Sorry,” I muttered. I took a deep breath and turned back around to face him, a smile plastered on my face.

  “How are you?” I asked.

  “I’m great,” he said, shrugging in a way that made it clear he was anything but. “How are you?”

  “Great,” I replied, in exactly the same tone.

  “Isn’t it lovely that you two are reconnecting again after all this time?” said Mum as she revved the car up the hill towards her place.

  “Yeah, actually, it’s nice,” said Kai, smiling at me this time, with what I used to think of as his trademark half-smile. Just one half of his mouth goes up, creating dimples at the side, while the other side stays completely neutral. When we were little I made him do it for me over and over so I could copy it, but I never could pull it off.

  ‘How’s Jingy?’ I asked. She’s Kai’s older sister, and she had always been friendly.

  “She’s fine, thanks. You’ve cut your hair,” he said.

  I put my hands up over it and pulled it down, as if I could make it longer, the way it used to be.

  “It looks good.”

  He looked taller and tireder, I thought, glancing at him as we got Zen settled into his paddock, but otherwise he seemed unchanged. Kai had been adopted when he was just a baby from Taiwan, like Jingy, and he had straight jet black hair, which he always wore gelled up into spikes around his forehead, and a shark’s tooth pendant, which Jingy had given him, on a thin leather band around his neck.

  He was still as relaxed as ever. As we sat around in the dining room while Viv made dinner, he lounged back in his chair and answered our polite questions, narrowing his eyes when he agreed with something and tilting his head back a little when he didn’t. For example, when Eloise said “Spending all your time on a screen is dumb”, he tilted his head back and said, “I guess it depends.”

  He’d always been like this, quiet, but interesting – to me, at least. I remember when we were little I would wonder what he was thinking, and when I asked him he’d always give me a surprising answer. “I’m wondering why we dream,” he said once, then told me that no one knows the answer to that question. “I was thinking about how ninety-five per cent of the ocean floor is unexplored,” he said another time. I’ve thought about that ever since, whenever I’ve swum at the beach. What if there are monsters down there? Or a giant kind of seahorse you can actually ride?

  “Frankie, will you say grace?” asked Mum, breaking into my thoughts.

  She’d lit candles, and Viv had put a vase of flowers from the garden in the middle of the table, which was covered with a tablecloth and matching napkins.

  “You do it,” I muttered. I hadn’t realised this dinner was going to be such a big deal. Since she left, Dad and I had mostly been eating microwave meals on the couch, so I was a bit out of practice, as well as feeling self-conscious with Kai sitting right there.

  Mum, and Viv and Eloise bowed their heads and closed their eyes, and after a moment I did too.

  “Thank you for this precious time together,” said Mum. “Thank you for bringing Kai to stay with us for a little while, and for keeping Frankie and Zen safe and sound at pony club on their first day. Thank you for bringing us together to share this beautiful food. Thank you to all the people who planted and grew it and brought it to us. Thank you to the earth who has given it to us, and for all our blessings.”

  I opened one eye to sneak a peek at Kai. He was staring at Mum.

  “Thank you Viv, for cooking,” said Mum, and with her eyes still closed she reached over to squeeze Viv�
�s hand. “It makes me so happy to have us all here together like this.” She reached her other hand over to squeeze mine.

  Weakly, I squeezed back. Every time she said how happy she was, I felt worse for Dad.

  “I don’t remember you guys being religious,” said Kai as we all started eating.

  “We’re not,” said Mum. “Not in any official way.”

  “But unofficially, she’s always done stuff like this,” I said. I hadn’t realised how much she had, actually, or how much I would miss it, until she left.

  As we ate our crumble with butterscotch ice cream, which Viv, of course, had made from scratch, I wondered what Kai was thinking now. Was he thinking how weird it was that Mum was living with a woman and her daughter in a rambling old farmhouse in the country, when the last time he’d seen her she’d been married to Dad and living in a terrace in the middle of the city? Or how strange it was that we were going to be living here together – half the time when I wasn’t at Dad’s house, anyway – a year after he’d stopped being friends with me?

  Viv wasn’t so bad, I decided as I scraped up the last skerricks of dessert. She wore lots of homemade jewellery and vintage dresses, and was always talking about all the different things she was doing with her land. I’d thought she was pretentious the first time I met her, but now I realised she was simply very enthusiastic. Viv’s place wasn’t really a farm so much as an old farmhouse sitting in the middle of a really big, rambling garden, with a paddock next to it. That was where Zen was staying, along with two old donkeys Viv had rescued, called Jenny and John. “I didn’t name them!” she’d been quick to add when she introduced us.

  Last week she and Mum had been picking the apples from the old orchard at the front of the house and making them into cider. This week they were going to build a new chicken coop, with a special chute Mum had designed for collecting the eggs.

  She’d probably also been nervous when we first met. I’d been scared, that’s for sure, but now I was starting to relax, too, and I realised she hadn’t been showing off about being so capable. She was just really passionate about doing and making and growing things, which was so different to Dad, who liked reading and writing and going to the cinema and singing in a choir with his friends. Or used to, anyway. Now he only seemed to like watching TV.

  And Eloise was super-cute, instead of annoying, as I’d first thought. “What’s big and red and eats rocks?” she asked me after she’d had her bath. “I don’t know,” I replied. “A big red rock eater!” she crowed, in such a sweet way that we all burst into laughter. Then she asked me questions about horses, as though I was the world’s greatest horse expert, until it was time for her to go to bed.

  As we sat around in the living room, eating macadamia nuts picked from Viv’s orchard and drinking home-grown peppermint tea, I could tell Mum was happy. Viv sat on a pouf in front of the fireplace, sewing little patches of material together for a quilt. Mum sat next to her in a rocking chair, picking out bits of fabric for Viv from a basket in her lap. Her eyes shone as she laughed with me about Zen’s behaviour today, and asked Kai questions about school. When Viv reached over to push a lock of hair behind her ear, Mum smiled at her in a way I hadn’t seen her smile at Dad in a long time. Maybe this really was the right place for her, I thought, as I sat there in that cosy living room. I decided I would try my hardest to be happy for her. I just wished Dad could be happy, too.

  Eight

  “Goodnight, Frankie,” said Kai, stopping in the doorway of my new bedroom and knocking lightly. I was sitting up against the pillows in my red flannel pyjamas, reading. I hadn’t spent more than five minutes in this room before, and it felt strange to be staying over.

  “I hope you’re not still feeling bad about the cow at pony club.”

  “Oh, it’s fine,” I said, embarrassed by my earlier outburst.

  He gave me a long look. A look that seemed to say he was sorry he’d stopped being my friend last year, and that he was glad we were friends again now.

  But it would be pathetic to let him act like nothing had ever happened, I told myself as I looked back at him. It would be pathetic not to ask why he hadn’t even invited me to his birthday party.

  So I guess I’m pathetic. Or maybe just really tired, or really lonely, because I decided to let it go.

  “What are you thinking about?” I asked.

  “Good old Frankie,” he smiled, “you never change. I was wondering …”

  “Yes?” I could feel my heart beating in my chest. What was I going to say if he said he was sorry that we’d stopped being friends?

  “What’s the wi-fi password?”

  “Oh.” Oh! “Um, it’s Mum and Viv’s birthday, so it’s 1968, 196–”

  “Frankie, don’t!” Mum shouted down the hall. The next moment she appeared, dressed in her long white flannel nightie and thick socks.

  “I was just …”

  “I know, but Kai, we laid down ground rules in the car,” said Mum, turning to him.

  “I just wanted to let Mum and Dad know I’ve arrived,” muttered Kai.

  “I’ve texted them,” said Mum, “and you’re welcome to use our landline any time. Frankie, please don’t tell Kai the password. From tomorrow we won’t have wi-fi here at all.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Just because.”

  “But that’s not fair!”

  “It’s what we need to do. Kai, I’m sure you’ll be able to get online at the school library, or a café in town.”

  “But that’s censored, and in town it won’t be secure,” said Kai.

  Mum nodded. “That’s the point. Okay, darling?” she said to me. “No passwords?”

  “Okay,” I said, completely confused.

  “Kai, you can explain to Frankie if you want to, or not, that’s your business. Frankie, I’m sorry. You can obviously still use all the wi-fi you like at your dad’s.”

  Kai was staring down at the carpet, not meeting our eyes. Mum kissed me and tousled Kai’s hair before going back to bed.

  “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” I said, once I saw the light in Mum and Viv’s bedroom go out. I was standing in the doorway of Kai’s bedroom, which was down the hallway from Eloise’s, and across the living room from my own.

  “Not really,” said Kai. He was sitting up in bed, dressed in black tracksuit bottoms and a white T-shirt, staring at his phone.

  “You know what?” I burst out. “I don’t understand why you didn’t invite me to your party, and I don’t understand why we stopped hanging out. I never wanted to stop being friends.”

  He glanced at me, then looked back down at his phone. “I didn’t want to stop being friends with you, Frankie. It’s just that you’re into reading, and horses, and I’m into coding, and computer games, and so …” He shrugged. “It didn’t make sense for us to hang out any more. And I didn’t invite you to my party because my friends kept teasing me that I liked you. You know, like liked you …” He said all this without once looking up from his screen.

  “Uh huh,” I breathed. My mouth felt dry. His friends had thought Kai like liked me?

  “I mean, how ridiculous! We were in grade six!”

  I nodded and sort of snorted, as though that idea seemed ridiculous to me, too.

  “I knew it was stupid, but I didn’t know how to explain it to them, and I was just embarrassed, I guess.” Finally he looked up at me, his expression serious, with no trace of his half-smile. “I’m really sorry, Frankie.”

  If you’d told me this morning that Kai Anderson and I would be standing here in our pyjamas, talking like this, I would not have believed you. But now that it was happening, the strangest thing about it was how normal it felt. Maybe it was because we’d spent so much time together when we were younger, hanging out in our pyjamas and having sleepovers.

  “That’s okay,” I said, and I meant it.

  “And the password stuff? Mum and Dad have sent me up here to live with your mum as a punishment. They think I�
�m addicted to screens.”

  “I thought it must be something like that. I’m sorry they’re punishing you.”

  He shrugged. “I probably deserve it.”

  “What did you do?” I asked curiously.

  He shrugged again. That was something that had changed about him, I realised. Kai didn’t used to shrug as much.

  “That’s okay,” I sighed.

  “You know what, Frankie? I was wrong. You have changed.”

  “I’ve changed? I was just thinking you’d changed.”

  “You’re not as funny any more.”

  “Well, thanks!”

  “No, I don’t mean it like that. I just mean you always used to seem so happy. So jokey and lighthearted.”

  I swallowed.

  “You always used to make things better, even when they were bad.”

  “Did I?” I liked the thought of that.

  “Remember when I had that weekend paper run in grade five? And it started pouring with rain suddenly, just as I was outside your house? I was panicking about the newspapers getting wet.”

  “Didn’t I lend you my dad’s raincoat or something, to keep them dry?” So much had happened since then, I could barely remember.

  “And shower caps! We put the raincoat over the papers and did the whole run together, wearing shower caps.”

  “We got soaked.”

  “But the papers, and our hair, remained completely dry!”

  “That’s right.”

  “I got a pay rise after that day.”

  It was all coming back to me now, the way we’d screamed and laughed at one another as we’d run in and out of people’s gardens, delivering their papers. And then afterwards we’d gone to Kai’s house to dry off, and his mum had made us grilled cheese on toast, and we’d played cards for the rest of the afternoon.

  “I’m sorry your parents have split up. That must be tough,” he said abruptly.

  Maybe because I was tired, or maybe because it felt so good to be talking to an old friend, my eyes suddenly filled with tears. “It is,” I said, wiping them away with the cuff of my pyjamas.