“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Did your mum always like women? Before she married your dad, I mean?”
“No.” I sighed and blew my nose. “She says she never loved anyone but Dad, but then they split up, and she met Viv, and she knew they were meant to be together straight away, from the first time she saw her.”
“Wow. Weird.”
“I know, right?”
“Viv seems nice, though,” he said. “Kind of unusual, but nice.”
“She’s not that unusual for around here, actually,” I said. “And she makes Mum happy.”
“How’s your dad?”
“Not so good.” Kai was the first person I could talk to honestly about this, I realised.
“It must be super-weird for him.”
“I think he just misses her.” Could I ever fall in love with a girl? I wondered suddenly. Do you just suddenly have a feeling about someone, regardless of if they’re a girl or a boy, and you just know you’re meant to be together? The only person I had ever felt that way about was Kai. From the first time we met I knew we were going to be best friends. That’s why it hurt so much when we weren’t any more.
I would be careful now, I decided. Friendly, but not too friendly, so that if anything went wrong between us I wouldn’t be so hurt again.
“So on Monday I’ll be coming to school with you,” said Kai, smiling his trademark half-smile at me. “How do you feel about that?”
“Great,” I said, and I meant it. Going to school with Kai would mean I had someone on my side, that I was part of a team with, for the first time since we’d moved.
“You can tell me about that girl who was being such a cow to you.”
I shrugged, a bit embarrassed now at the fuss I’d made. That stuff just didn’t matter as much now that Kai was here and being so nice to me.
Nine
I forgot all about Violet over the weekend. We all worked together on the chicken coop on Saturday, and then to celebrate we went to the beach for fish and chips. On Sunday Viv tried to show Kai and me how to spin wool and then weave it on her big loom. We were both hopeless, but watching each other make a mess of it all was actually pretty fun, and Viv was super patient. While we were weaving, Mum and Eloise painted the chicken coop black, and then we all made lasagne with vegetables from the garden for dinner.
We voted on what to name the future chickens who were going to be living in the new coop. I voted for Ariana, Katy and Rihanna, but no one agreed with me. In the end we decided on Dolly, Casey and Reba. I went to visit Zen in his paddock each morning but he wasn’t interested in talking to me, and neither were the donkeys. I also called Dad a few times. He didn’t sound great, but he didn’t sound terrible, either. He said he was making up for lost time marking his students’ assignments while I was staying with Mum.
My worries returned on Monday, though, when Violet completely ignored me, and on Tuesday, when she said something to the other girls as I passed and they all exploded into laughter; and on Wednesday, when she commented loudly how bad the brownies were just as I was biting into one at the canteen.
Even though he was trying to be sympathetic, Kai didn’t get it. Girls are mean to each other in ways that boys don’t even see, sometimes, and every time I tried to explain it to Kai he would say things like, “Maybe she just didn’t see you,” and “Are you sure they were laughing about you?”
“Frankie,” he said finally. “Violet is in my maths class, and seriously, she doesn’t seem that bad. Are you sure she’s being mean?”
“Yes, I’m sure!” I said, but his question hung there like a big question mark over it all, making me doubt myself.
Ash and Lesley, the girls who’d been friendly to me at pony club, smiled and nodded at me a few times as we passed each other in the school yard, but they were always hanging around Violet, who was never really alone.
On Wednesday afternoon, when I was back at pony club, everything came to a head.
It started simply enough. I was saddling up Zen, and wondering if he could have put on weight in the one week we’d had him. His girth straps certainly felt tight, and he was looking chunkier than ever. As I was wrestling with the straps, Violet walked up to me.
“Frankie, right?”
“Hi, Violet.” I focused on my fingers as I adjusted Zen’s bridle.
“So you’re friends with Kai Anderson?”
“Yes. He’s staying with us,” I said.
“Huh.” I could see her thinking. “Anyway, Frankie – that’s an unusual name, for a girl. Is it from somewhere?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just … it’s kind of a boy’s name, isn’t it?”
“No.”
“Frankly, Frankie –” she smirked, as though she’d made a funny joke, “– I’m surprised to see you back here so soon.”
My heart started thumping. “What do you mean?” I said again, like some kind of robot.
“Remember our conversation last Saturday? It’s hard to imagine you’ve improved that much in a few days, even if you have been doing some serious training. Tonight we’ll be going through our paces for the show, and I’m afraid we won’t be playing any games.”
My vision was blurring. I squeezed my eyes shut and then opened them again. Don’t cry, I ordered myself. Don’t cry!
“I’ll see you out there,” said Violet, giving Zen a pat on the rump as she walked away. “Good luck!”
I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and stared at Zen’s neck, waiting for my vision to clear again. He stood quietly, his ears flicking back and forth. His round, grass-fed belly felt like a comforting wall between me and the rest of the world as I listened to the sounds around me: Oliver talking to Mum and Kai, horses neighing and snorting, girls talking, horses’ hooves crunching, gates opening and closing and exclamations of encouragement as the girls made their way into the arena.
Get up, I told myself, staring at the stirrup in front of me. Just do it! I commanded myself, but I couldn’t move.
“Frankie?” I heard Mum calling.
“Just a minute!” I called back. I swallowed, and put my hands on the pommel of Zen’s saddle. One, two, three, up! I said to myself as firmly as I could. But something deep inside of me just wouldn’t.
“Darling, what is it?” Mum said, appearing next to me. “They’re all getting started.”
“I can’t do it,” I said, suddenly weak with relief as the words came out of my mouth. Mum must have realised how I was feeling, because for once she didn’t argue.
“Oh sweetie,” she said, reaching out and grasping my hand.
I sighed with relief. I didn’t have to tell her what Violet had just said, or how bad this whole thing was making me feel. She understood.
“What do you want to do?” she asked quietly.
“I want to give Zen back to Pam. I know she’s not back for weeks, but we could drop Zen off at her stables, couldn’t we?”
“Okay.”
“And I think maybe I don’t want to do this horse thing any more.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them again, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she began unbuckling Zen’s girth straps and taking off his bridle and blanket. Zen didn’t seem too bothered by this change of plans, or even the slightest bit curious. While Mum went to have a word with Oliver, I got back in the car with Kai.
“So you’re … what? Just going to give up?” he said, once I’d explained what was happening.
“Maybe.”
“Just because you think Violet was being mean to you?” He looked incredulous.
“I don’t think she was being mean. She was being mean. But it’s not just that.”
“Well, what is it then?”
“It’s Zen. He’s boring. He is! And he thinks I’m boring, too. This is nothing like how I thought having a horse would be.”
“And so you’re just going to give up on him,” muttered Kai under his breath, looking
out the window.
“No. We’re going to drive to his very lovely former owner’s very lovely stables and he’ll live there until she finds him a very lovely new home.”
“Same thing.” Kai shrugged.
I hated that shrug, I decided. “Why are you picking on me?”
“I’m not picking on you. I’m just saying, it seems like the thing to do now, doesn’t it? You said yourself that your mum gave up on your dad, and my parents certainly seem to have given up on me.”
“You still haven’t told me what you did to make them send you here,” I said, mounting a counter attack. Last night Mum had told me that she’d been talking to Bettina, and that they’d decided Kai was going to be staying with us until at least the end of term.
“And I’m not going to,” Kai interrupted. “My point is …”
“I get your point!” I snapped.
Is it true? I wondered as Mum got in the car and began driving us back towards Viv’s place. Was I giving up on Zen? And did I think Mum had given up on Dad? Had Kai’s parents really given up on him? And after all these years of wanting to ride, and finally moving to the country and getting my horse, was I really going to give up on my dream so quickly? Was I really going to let one mean girl stop me from doing something I had been dreaming about for so, so long?
I looked out the window. The heavy feeling in my chest had come back and felt even heavier now, crushing my lungs and squeezing my heart so tightly it felt as though I could barely breathe. Outside the car, the paddocks had flattened out and we were driving through a cutting in the rainforest, which was lush, and thick and a deep, deep green. As we turned the corner to go up the hill we passed Shannon’s sign, big blue writing on a white background proclaiming: Pocket of Dreams. I noticed two words had been added: Equestrian Centre.
“Stop here!” I said, sitting forwards in my seat.
“What?” Mum glanced behind her but kept driving.
“Stop here! Please, Mum. Can you stop?”
Mum sighed and slowed down, pulling onto the side of the road and switching off the engine. I climbed out of the car and walked over to the gate.
An old wooden house sat surrounded by a shady, sagging verandah. It looked as though it had been there forever. The worn-out cream paint was peeling, the roof was rusty and crooked, and thick vines twisted around the verandah posts, reaching up from the overgrown garden. On the other side of the driveway was a paddock, and behind that a dusty round yard next to a shiny new shed and undercover arena. Behind the house, more paddocks rose slowly up to a low hill thickly covered with trees. A small dam reflected the clouds and sky like a looking glass, and over in a distant corner sat a falling-down old barn. Three horses munched grass in the small paddock closest to me, but apart from that there were no signs of life.
“What’s going on, Frankie?” asked Mum.
I looked at Kai, who looked back at me, his eyebrows raised. I looked behind me to where Zen was standing patiently in his horse float. He was looking at me too, for once, his ears pricked and alert.
I cleared my throat. “There’s been a change of plan.”
Ten
As I opened the gate into the garden a little black sausage dog appeared, hurling itself off the low verandah and running straight at me, barking madly. He threw himself down on his side and looked pleadingly up at me with liquid dark eyes. “Hello,” I said, as I squatted down to give him a pat. “Gillie,” it said on the tag on his collar.
“Will you talk to Shannon for me?” I asked Mum, who was following behind.
“Nope. This is your idea,” said Mum. “I’ve done enough with all this horse stuff. From now on it’s up to you.” She leaned against the trunk of an apple tree, folded her arms and looked out across the grass towards the dam.
Gillie trotted importantly ahead of me as I walked up the old stone stairs. I knocked lightly on the front door and looked around. Apart from me and this little dog, the place seemed deserted.
“Hellooo?” I called.
No answer. I felt relieved. Maybe I could come back another day, on my own. I mean, it’s pretty strange to just show up on someone’s doorstep with a horse! But then I might chicken out altogether, I thought. If I was going to do this it had to be right now. “Hello!” I called out again, loudly and clearly this time.
“Hello!” said Shannon, coming around the corner of the verandah, from the back of the house. She was dressed in old pair of jodhpurs and a stained green T-shirt. “I was doing yard work.” Gillie flung himself down in front of her and she squatted down to pat him, smiling up at me. “It’s Frankie, isn’t it? And Zen.”
“You remembered.”
“Of course. Is there something I can help you with, Frankie?”
“Is it true, what you said the other day, that horses can hear you and feel you, and that if you listen to them they’ll wake up and listen to you, too?”
“Yes, if you go about it the right way, most definitely.”
“I was wondering …” I stopped. “I was wondering if that’s what you teach people to do here?” I knew that “equestrian” meant horse, but apart from that I had no idea what an Equestrian Centre might be.
“I do, actually. I also train horses, using techniques I’ve learned from natural horsemanship experts from all over the world, as well as some of my very own. I also board horses, which means people can leave their horses here and I’ll look after them – including riding them and feeding them and generally making sure they’re well-trained and happy.”
“I was wondering …”
“Yes, Frankie?”
I took a big breath. “I want to ride with the pony club, and I want Zen to want to do it with me. They’re going to be competing as a team at the Show this year, and I want to be able to at least get Zen around the course in the beginners’ category. I don’t want to hold them back.” I paused and took another deep breath. Shannon waited patiently. “Is that something you could teach me?”
“The show is six weeks from now, isn’t it?” said Shannon. “At the end of next month. To compete, you have to have been in the club and attending for at least the previous four weeks. To qualify as a member and compete with them this year, you’d have to be back at pony club in a couple of weeks.”
Two weeks! “Can you teach me how to be a good rider in that time?”
Gillie had somehow inserted himself into my arms, and I was stroking him as we spoke. Now he looked from me to Shannon and back again, as though he’d been following every word.
“I can help you, and Zen’s certainly up to it, but the results will depend on you.”
We agreed that Zen would stay here at Pocket of Dreams for the next two weeks, and that I would come and practise groundwork with him every day. We also agreed that Shannon was going to ride him two or three times a week, and give me lessons, and that for all that Mum and Dad were going to pay her what seemed to me like a lot of money. Mum and Dad agreed to go halves, though, and after all, it was only for two weeks.
Eleven
“Let’s get started,” said Shannon the next afternoon. She was standing in her front paddock with Zen, who, naturally, was eating.
“Hi Zen,” I said. We hadn’t seen each other since I’d left him here last night, but that didn’t make any difference. He ignored me anyway.
I let myself through the gate and came to stand next to Shannon. I was wearing my school blouse over jeans, because I’d cycled straight over here after school. Kai had come with me – I have no idea why, nothing better to do, I guess? – and now he was lounging on his school backpack, buried in a book under a huge oak tree on the other side of the fence. I looked at him enviously as I wiped sweat off my forehead. I was already boiling out here!
“Horses are herd animals, so they’re highly aware of when someone enters their space,” said Shannon.
I looked at Zen doubtfully. He was still eating grass. If he’d paid any attention to my existence it would only have been to check if I had any food.
Here goes nothing, I thought. I took a step towards Zen and he brought his head up and looked at me. Then he swung his head towards the other end of the paddock and walked away, parking himself with his bum towards me and his head down in the grass again.
“He doesn’t like me,” I said to Shannon dejectedly.
“He doesn’t know you, Frankie. He’s just reflecting the way you feel about him back to you, like a mirror. Can you remember what you were thinking when you were walking up to him a moment ago?”
“Here goes nothing,” I mumbled.
Shannon looked at me puzzled, and then her expression softened. “Is something wrong?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, and suddenly I felt like crying again. This would be the fourth time I had cried in three days, and I’m not usually an easy crier. When my cat Roger died last year I cried for a day, off and on, and then that was it. I missed him for ages – I still miss him, actually, especially in the mornings, when he used to follow me to the bus stop – but I don’t cry, and when I broke my ankle in grade four I screamed a bit, but I didn’t cry then, either. The doctors and nurses all commented on it. And now here I was, blubbing all the time over nothing.
“Whatever it is that’s bothering you, it matters,” said Shannon softly.
“A lot of things lately have been … disappointing, I guess.” I didn’t want to go through my “poor me” routine again about Mum and Dad, or moving, but I didn’t want to lie about my feelings either, especially if Zen was going to be pointing them out to me anyway, so I gave Shannon a short rundown of the past year.
“And so you’re putting all that disappointment you’ve been feeling onto your horse,” she said, once I’d finished, as though that explained everything.
“I don’t mean to.”
“Well …” She gave me a considering glance. “What if I told you …” She looked over at Zen, her eyes narrowed, as if she was assessing him.
“What if you told me what?” I urged her. I can’t stand suspense.
Dream Riders Page 4