Karen's Pony Camp

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Karen's Pony Camp Page 1

by Ann M. Martin




  The author gratefully acknowledges

  Gabrielle Charbonnet

  for her help

  with this book.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1 Fireworks

  2 My Two Families

  3 The Blueberry Solution

  4 Pony Camp, Here We Come!

  5 Camp Happy Trails

  6 The Intermediates

  7 Camp Days

  8 Let’s Go, Diablo

  9 The Trail Ride

  10 Into the Woods

  11 The Campsite

  12 At Camp Again

  13 Nancy’s Decision

  14 Intermediate Hannie

  15 Ruby Needs Help

  16 The Lonely Musketeer

  17 Blueberry Arrives!

  18 All for One and One for All

  19 Parents’ Day

  20 The Gymkhana

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  Fireworks

  “Are we there yet?” I leaned forward. The seat belt held me back.

  “Two more blocks,” said Seth.

  Seth is my stepfather. I am Karen Brewer. I am seven years old, and sometimes I am impatient. Especially when I know good things are about to happen.

  Tonight a good thing was about to happen. It was the Fourth of July, and my little-house family and I were going to see fireworks at the football field at Stoneybrook High. I love fireworks!

  When we arrived at the high school, Seth parked the car. I scrambled out ahead of Mommy, Seth, and my little brother, Andrew. (He is four going on five.)

  “Please wait for us, Karen,” said Mommy.

  “Mommy, Mommy!” I cried. “I see Hannie and Nancy by the bleachers. May I go sit with them?” Hannie Papadakis and Nancy Dawes are my two best friends. We call ourselves the Three Musketeers. We do almost everything together.

  Mommy said, “Okay, but do not wander around. Seth and Andrew and I will be sitting over here. Please come find us when the fireworks are done.”

  “Okay!” I said.

  Hannie and Nancy and I found seats in the front row. Hannie had brought popcorn and Nancy had gotten some cotton candy. I had forgotten to ask Mommy if I could buy something to snack on. But Hannie and Nancy both shared with me. That is because we are best friends.

  “Four more days,” said Hannie.

  I knew what she meant. “I cannot wait,” I said, bouncing on the bleachers. In just four days the Three Musketeers were going to sleepaway pony camp for a whole month.

  “Are you sure Camp Happy Trails will be all right?” asked Nancy. She looked worried. “I have never been on a pony before.”

  “It will be fine,” I said breezily. Overhead, a big rocket burst into a million red twinkling lights. “Oooh, look at that one!”

  “Pony camp will be fun, Nancy,” said Hannie. “We will ride ponies and take care of them. We will feed them apples and brush their coats.”

  “And we will go swimming and do arts and crafts,” I added. “You will see. You will have a great time.”

  Nancy did not look so sure. A great big boom made her jump. A yellow starburst lit the sky.

  “Drama camp would have been fun,” said Nancy. “We could have put on plays and dressed up in costumes.”

  “We can put on plays anytime,” said Hannie. “But we do not always get to ride ponies.”

  “You are right,” I said. “Even though I have Blueberry, I have not ridden him much.” Awhile ago, my dad had bought me my very own pony. He lives with a nice family, the Gales, about half an hour away. I visit him whenever I can. “Anyway, Nancy,” I went on, “you like Blueberry.”

  “I know,” said Nancy. “But pony camp is for a whole month. I will miss my family.”

  Four rockets shot up at the same time. They streaked through the dark sky. One by one they exploded in bursts of red, yellow, green, and blue.

  “Ooh,” said Hannie.

  “We will be having so much fun, we will not even think about our families,” I told Nancy. “I am not worried about it, and I have two families to miss.” (I will explain about my two families in a minute.)

  “I guess that is true,” said Nancy.

  “Of course it is,” said Hannie. “Pony camp, here we come!”

  My Two Families

  Two days later I was packing a trunk in my room at the little house. This is a good time to explain about my two families. I have told you about Mommy and Seth and Andrew. They are my little-house family. (Along with Rocky, Seth’s cat; Midgie, Seth’s dog; Emily Junior, my pet rat; and Bob, Andrew’s hermit crab.)

  I also have a big-house family. A long time ago, I lived in the big house with Mommy, Daddy, and Andrew. Then Mommy and Daddy got divorced. Andrew and I moved with Mommy to the little house, not far away. Mommy married Seth Engle, so he is my stepfather. (I guess Rocky and Midgie are my steppets.)

  Daddy kept the big house, since he had grown up there. He got married again, too, to Elizabeth. She is my stepmother. She has four kids of her own. Sam and Charlie are old. They go to high school. Kristy is thirteen, and she is a very wonderful stepsister. David Michael is seven, like me, but he does not go to my school.

  Also at the big house is Emily Michelle, who is my two-and-a-half-year-old adopted sister. She came from a country called Vietnam. Finally there is Nannie, my stepgrandmother. She came to live in the big house to help take care of all the people and all the pets, too. The pets are Daddy’s old cat, Boo-Boo, and Shannon, who is David Michael’s puppy. Shannon weighs more than I do now. She is gigundoly huge.

  At the beginning of July, Andrew, Emily Junior, Bob, and I had gone to the little house. In August we would go to the big house for a month. That is how we do it. Back and forth.

  Know what? I have two of lots of things. Two mommies, two daddies, two families, two houses, two dogs, two cats. But that is not all. I also have two bicycles (one at each house), two stuffed cats, two pieces of Tickly (my special blanket), two best friends, and even two pairs of glasses. Blue ones for reading, and pink ones for the rest of the time.

  That is why I made up special nicknames for Andrew and me. I call us Andrew Two-Two and Karen Two-Two. It is easy to see why.

  But I was telling you about my packing. Mommy had gotten a trunk for me to take to pony camp, since I would be gone a whole month. So far I had packed Goosie (my little-house stuffed cat), Tickly, eight books from my summer reading list, my portable CD player, all of my CDs (I have seven), my Rollerblades, my Junior Pictionary game, my jump rope, a deck of cards, Hyacynthia (my best doll), a picture of my little-house family in a frame, a bag of leftover Easter candy, and my hairbrush. The trunk was starting to look pretty full.

  Someone knocked on my door. “May I come in?” asked Mommy.

  “Sure,” I said.

  Mommy looked into my trunk. “Hmm,” she said. “I think you might need a little help packing. Where are you going to put your clothes?”

  Clothes!? Oops.

  “And you will need things like toothpaste and shampoo,” Mommy pointed out.

  It is a good thing I had Mommy to help me. Just then the phone rang, and Mommy answered it. After a few minutes she came back.

  “That was your father,” said Mommy. “He said that the people who board Blueberry are moving. They can no longer take care of him.”

  “Oh, no!” I cried. “What are we going to do?”

  The Blueberry Solution

  We had an emergency family meeting. Mommy, Seth, Andrew, and I sat around the kitchen table. Andrew and I drank some milk, and Mommy and Seth had iced tea. We all ate cookies.

  “What will we do about Blueberry?” I asked.

  “Give him to a zoo?” sugg
ested Andrew.

  “I do not think a zoo will want him,” said Seth. “Blueberry is a pony, not a zebra.”

  “We could paint stripes on him,” said Andrew.

  “Maybe we could put him in the garage at the big house,” I said. “There would be plenty of room if everyone parked their cars on the street.”

  “I am sure your dad wants the garage for the cars,” said Mommy. “Besides, ponies need to live in the country.”

  I thought and thought. “Let’s find another family for Blueberry to live with,” I said.

  “Your father has already considered that,” said Mommy. “But how can he find another family? He cannot just call up people from the phone book.”

  Andrew giggled at the thought of Daddy calling people he did not know, to ask them if they could board a pony.

  “I know, I know!” I cried. “Blueberry is a pony. I am going to pony camp. Maybe Camp Happy Trails needs another pony. I bet Blueberry would love Camp Happy Trails.”

  “That is a good idea,” said Seth.

  “I will call your father right now,” said Mommy. “Then he can call the camp and ask them if they can board another pony.”

  I crossed all my fingers while Mommy called Daddy. I tried to cross my toes, but my sneakers were too tight.

  Daddy thought it was a good idea also. Now I would just have to wait for him to call the camp.

  Mommy and I spent the rest of the afternoon packing my trunk. I packed shorts and T-shirts and underwear and swimsuits and socks and extra socks and long jeans and three sweatshirts and a bunch of scrunchies for my hair. I also packed the books from my summer reading list, ten postcards with stamps on them, Goosie, and a bunch of bathroom things, such as shampoo and toothpaste and soap.

  The more I thought about camp, the more excited I felt. I pictured myself galloping along on a pony with my hair blowing in the breeze. I would race across hills and fields. I would leap over streams and fallen trees. I would feed my pony and take good care of him or her. Best of all, Hannie and Nancy would be right there with me. The Three Musketeers would do all of those things together. Maybe our three ponies would be best friends, too.

  Finally Daddy called back. Mommy answered the phone. I hopped up and down around her with my fingers crossed.

  “I see,” said Mommy. “Okay. Hang on.” She handed the phone to me.

  “Yes, yes?” I cried.

  “Hi, sweetie,” said Daddy. “Good news. Camp Happy Trails has room for Blueberry.”

  “All right!” I said. “Thank you, Daddy. I know Blueberry will be happy there.”

  “The Gales will deliver Blueberry to the camp in about three weeks,” said Daddy. “So he will arrive while you are still there. I am glad you thought of this solution.”

  “Me, too!” I said. “I cannot wait to see Blueberry at camp. It will be so special to have my very own pony there.”

  “Okay,” said Daddy. “I will call you again before you leave, to say good-bye.”

  “Okay. ‘Bye, Daddy.” I hung up the phone. “Mommy, Blueberry will be at camp! I bet I will be the only camper there with her very own pony.”

  Mommy laughed. “Maybe not,” she said. “There might be a few others, too. But it will be fun to have Blueberry there.”

  “Oh, I just cannot wait until the day after tomorrow,” I said. “How will I get through the next two days?”

  Pony Camp, Here We Come!

  Somehow (I do not know how) I got through the next two days. Then Mommy, Seth, Andrew, and I piled into Seth’s car to drive me to camp. Camp Happy Trails was an hour away from Stoneybrook, Connecticut, which is where I live.

  “I wish I were going to pony camp,” said Andrew.

  “You are too little,” I said. I was not trying to be mean. It was the truth. “Besides, this camp is for girls only. Just girls and ponies.”

  “You will be gone a whole month,” said Andrew. He sounded as if he might cry.

  “I will write you lots of postcards,” I promised. “And you will be very busy, helping Mommy take care of Emily Junior. Do you remember where her food is?”

  “Yes,” said Andrew.

  “Will you take her out and play with her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you give her fresh water?”

  “Yes.” Andrew still looked sad.

  “Your mommy and I have planned fun things to do while Karen is away,” said Seth.

  Andrew looked a little more cheerful. I wondered what kind of fun things they were going to do. But I did not have much time to wonder — because soon I saw the sign for Camp Happy Trails.

  “There it is!” I said, pointing. “Right there!”

  Seth turned at the camp sign, and we drove through a large wooden gate. Camp Happy Trails was beautiful. There were many trees and huge open fields of grass. We drove down the long driveway. At the end was a low, white, wooden building. A sign said LODGE HOUSE. Near the lodge house was a tall pole with an American flag flying from it. In the distance I could see several enormous fields surrounded by wooden fences. In the fields were ponies.

  Seth unloaded my trunk. I carried out a small duffel bag. Suddenly I realized I would not see Mommy or Seth or Andrew for a whole month. I would not see my room or Emily Junior.

  Mrs. Moggy, the camp director, came out to meet us. Mommy asked her about phone calls and mail. My eyes felt hot and itchy. Andrew sniffled.

  “Karen!” someone shouted.

  I looked up and saw Hannie and Nancy leaning against a fence. “Hi!” I yelled back. I whirled around and kissed Mommy and Seth and Andrew good-bye. Then I ran to the other two Musketeers.

  “Are you ready for the best month of your life?” I asked.

  “Yeah!” Hannie said, slapping me a high five. “I have been looking at the ponies. I wonder which one will be mine.”

  We were standing beside a big fenced-in pasture. Sprinkled throughout the pasture were many ponies. Some were small. Some were medium-sized. Some looked almost as big as horses. They came in all colors: spotted white-and-black, brown, chestnut, black, and tan. A couple looked like palominos, with deep tan coats and pale blonde manes. I decided a palomino would look perfect with my own blonde hair, blue eyes, and freckles.

  “Um, you guys?” said Nancy. She pointed to a smaller riding ring. We ran to the ring. Inside, several older girls were already riding ponies. The girls wore real riding pants (which we later found out are called jodhpurs) and little hard hats that looked like black baseball caps with short visors.

  While a counselor called out instructions, the girls rode expertly in a circle. Some even led their ponies through small jumps.

  “Uh-oh,” said Nancy. “That looks way too hard. I have never even been on a pony before. There is no way I can ride like that. Not in only a month.”

  “It looks so fun,” said Hannie. “I cannot wait. I hope we go riding today.”

  “Do not worry, Nancy,” I said. “I have not ridden very much, either. But we will learn how in no time. You will see. I know you will love it.” But inside I was not so sure. These girls were older. They rode really well. Would I be able to ride like that?

  Camp Happy Trails

  After we watched the ponies awhile, Mrs. Moggy showed my friends and me where we would stay. There were ten different cabins. We were in Black Beauty Cabin. Inside were nine beds. We grabbed three all in a row.

  Our counselor, Diane, introduced herself. She seemed very nice.

  “Your trunks will be dropped off soon,” she told us. “In the meantime, you can make up your beds. The bathrooms are in the back of the cabin.”

  I started to make up my bed.

  “Hi, guys,” said a voice by the door.

  “You must be Caitlin Combs,” said Diane, crossing her name off a list. “Welcome to Black Beauty Cabin.”

  Another girl came in, and Diane checked off her name: Tamisha Hopper. Then Amy Brooks and Becky Chen came in. Finally, our last cabinmate arrived.

  “I’m Betsy Olerud,” sh
e said shyly.

  “Hi, and welcome,” said Diane. “In a few minutes we will go to the mess hall and have lunch. After that there is orientation in the pavilion. Then you guys will have your first riding lesson. You will get to pick your ponies, and we will decide what level you ride at. You will probably all be beginners, but if you work hard, you may be intermediates in a few weeks.”

  “I cannot wait to pick my pony,” said Hannie.

  “Me neither,” I said. “I want a palomino.”

  Diane laughed. “We have to match you up with the right pony for your riding experience and your personality. It might not be a palomino.”

  “But it might,” I said hopefully.

  Diane smiled at me, and I decided I liked her a lot. “Yes, it might,” she agreed. “Now, let’s go have lunch.”

  * * *

  We ate lunch at long tables in the mess hall. Mess hall sounds like a yucky name for a cafeteria, but it was not at all yucky inside. We ate chicken-salad sandwiches, a cup of soup, an apple, and two cookies each. Yum!

  After lunch was orientation. Hannie and I were so excited, we could hardly sit still. Nancy looked unsure. But I knew she would start to feel better soon.

  The pavilion was a great big room with a cement floor. On the floor were lines for foursquare, shuffleboard, and hopscotch. Three Ping-Pong tables were against one side of the room. There was also a little room called the canteen, where you could buy sodas and candy and ice cream. I loved the pavilion.

  At orientation the counselors introduced themselves and talked about what we would do at camp. I was interested in just one thing: riding.

  “I am glad they have swimming here,” said Nancy. “And arts and crafts. I cannot wait for the campfire sing-along tonight.”

  “When do we get to pick our ponies?” asked Hannie impatiently.

  Diane, our counselor, overheard her. “Right now!” she said.

  Outside, Diane and another counselor, Shannon, led us to one of the big riding rings. (I did not tell her that my brother has a dog named Shannon back at home.)

  “This riding ring is for beginners and the younger intermediates,” explained Diane. “The other rings are for older intermediates and experts. Now, let’s get each of you matched up with a pony.”

 

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