Horse Trade

by Bonnie Bryant

  Stevie said good night to Phil, then hung up the phone and raced quickly downstairs. It was never too soon to get started working on her parents.

  The next day, which was Wednesday, The Saddle Club planned to meet at Pine Hollow after school. They had so much to talk about that it seemed to Stevie that Wednesday was the longest school day in human history. Usually she liked math, kind of, but today the fifty minutes felt like fifty hours. Did her English teacher really have to read so much of A Midsummer Night’s Dream out loud? And did the Fenton Hall cafeteria have to have a four-block line that ended with mystery lasagna?

  By the time Stevie got to Pine Hollow to meet Lisa and Carole, she was frazzled. But once she had checked Topside’s water and put some fresh hay in the hay bag, and checked the straw underfoot and found that it was still dry and clean, she began to feel calmer.

  She wandered into the tack room and stared at the bridles and halters hanging from pegs and at the coils of straps on the floor. Usually, she wasn’t crazy about cleaning tack, but now the leathery smell and faint dustiness of the tack room seemed cozy and welcoming.

  Looking at the black velvet riding helmets that hung on the wall above the tack, she got a sudden idea. For some reason the fact that No-Name had no name was bothering her. It was one of the reasons that she’d had trouble concentrating today. No-Name seemed to have no medical history and no past, almost as if she didn’t exist.

  Stevie reached up and took down some of the hats. Then she rearranged them on the wall to spell “No-Name.”

  “What’s this? A protest of some kind?” said Lisa from behind Stevie. From the straw on Lisa’s boots, Stevie could tell she’d been mucking out Prancer’s stall.

  “Kind of,” Stevie said, flopping down on a pile of horse blankets. “It’s a protest against No-Name’s lack of a name.”

  “I can see that,” Lisa said. She sat down next to Stevie and stretched out her legs. “Don’t you know anything about her?”

  Stevie shook her head. “Only that she belongs to Mr. Baker, who got her from a bulk lot.”

  “Hi, guys.” Carole came through the doorway with a thick horse manual under her arm. “What’s new?”

  “Stevie’s in love,” Lisa said.

  “I knew that,” Carole said with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Not with Phil,” Lisa said. “With No-Name.”

  “She’s right,” Stevie agreed. “Luckily I’ll be seeing a lot of her in the coming weeks. I’m going to be over at Phil’s helping him with his dressage for an exhibition. And I’ll also be figuring out what makes No-Name allergic.”

  “Great,” Carole groaned. “I don’t mean to be selfish or anything. But first Lisa was off working on Annie; now you’ll be over at Phil’s. When is The Saddle Club ever going to be together again? We’re practically not a club anymore.”

  “The dressage exhibition is only a couple of weeks away,” Stevie said. “And I won’t be there all the time. Anyway, I’m worried about No-Name. This horse is practically an orphan.”

  “Dressage?” came a voice from the doorway. They all jumped and saw Max, his blue eyes gleaming. “This reminds me that Horse Wise has been invited to a certain dressage exhibition in almost two weeks,” he said.

  “Could it be?” Stevie said.

  Max smiled. He’d met Phil several times, and he knew that not only was Phil a member of Cross County, but also that he and Stevie liked each other.

  “You’ve got it, Stevie,” Max said. “The exhibition is at Cross County. Mr. Baker is an excellent riding instructor and horse trainer, so I’m sure we’ll have a lot to learn.”

  Stevie was elated that the members of The Saddle Club, as well as the rest of Horse Wise, would be at the dressage exhibition. She resolved to work as hard as she could with Phil so that he’d knock them out with his dressage skills.

  When Phil met Stevie at the commuter bus stop on Friday, he stared at her in disbelief, as if she were an illusion of some kind. “I can’t believe your parents actually let you take the bus.”

  “I wasn’t sure they were going to until this morning,” Stevie answered. “We were still discussing it at breakfast.”

  “No-Name is eager to see you,” Phil said. “No more welts, no more symptoms.”

  “I missed her,” Stevie said. “I’ve been thinking about her all week.”

  Phil kicked a rock and grinned. “I was thinking that if you were a horse, you’d probably have an upside-down exclamation point on your nose, too.”

  “Thanks a lot,” Stevie said, but she didn’t entirely mind the idea.

  The Marstens’ house was one of the oldest in the area, built of irregular gray stones that seemed to have grown into each other. The chimney was made of bricks so old that their corners had worn off. The house wasn’t fancy—that wasn’t the Marstens’ style; instead it had simply become a beautiful part of the landscape.

  At an upper window Stevie saw a grinning face topped by soft brown curls.

  “Great,” Phil said, looking up. “I thought Rachel had karate class this afternoon.”

  “She’s into karate?”

  “Karate and chickens,” Phil said. “Though why she needs karate, I don’t know. It can’t be self-defense. People run when they see her.”

  Rachel appeared in the doorway of the Marsten house and said, “Hi, Stevie, coming to see your boooooooooooyfriend?”

  Stevie smirked. This was just the kind of feeble thing her younger brother Michael would say. She shrugged and said, “That’s about it, Rach.”

  Clearly, this wasn’t the response that Rachel had expected. She looked at Phil and said, “I guess she fell for it, Phil. You must think you’re pretty clever.”

  “Come on, Stevie,” Phil said, turning toward the barn.

  Alarms went off in Stevie’s head. She didn’t want anyone to think she was a fool, not even a ten-year-old. “Fell for what?” she said to Rachel.

  “The horse thing,” said Rachel, putting her hands on her hips. “He knew you would,” she added.

  “What horse thing?” Stevie said, turning to Phil.

  But it was Rachel who answered. “He wanted this silly horse to stay here, so he kept telling everyone that I was going to find out what she was allergic to. Like I’m really going to do that. I don’t even like horses.”

  The wheels in Stevie’s mind whirred. Rachel had never really offered to find out what No-Name was allergic to? The whole thing had been an invention by Phil so that No-Name could stay, and Stevie would visit his place more often?

  Stevie turned to Phil and saw that his face was beet-red. Phil was blushing! How sweet, Stevie thought. However, it was also embarrassing for Phil, and she didn’t want to make him feel totally humiliated. She turned to Rachel and said, “Too bad you have such an empty life.”

  “What do you mean?” Rachel said, looking indignant.

  “Following your brother around all the time. Neglecting your life to poke into his. It’s kind of sad, really. Ask your teacher to see if you can get a pen pal or something. Lonely kids like you often get a lot of benefit from friends in far-off places.”

  That did it. Rachel was gone.

  “Thanks,” Phil said, looking at the empty doorway where Rachel had been. “I get so angry at her that I want to clobber her. But if I clobber her, my parents won’t like it.”

  “Parents tend to frown on clobbering,” said Stevie, remembering a couple of bad experiences of her own.

  “Next time I’ll try using humor,” Phil said, though he didn’t sound hopeful about it.

  “It’s easier to be funny with someone else’s brother or sister,” Stevie said. “With Michael I always go right over the edge.”

  “So you know what it’s like,” said Phil.

  “Those are among my worst memories,” Stevie assured him. “But don’t worry, we’ll get back at Rachel. In a nice way, of course.”

  “Nice, but not too nice,” Phil said. “Let’s not go overboard with the niceness.”

&nb
sp; “Okay,” Stevie agreed. As they headed toward the stable, Stevie’s thoughts turned back to her plan to unmask the substance that was causing No-Name’s allergy. Likely candidates were the fly spray used before rides to keep No-Name’s eyes clear, saddle soap from a newly cleaned saddle, and No-Name’s regular snacks, which were carrots and apples. Of course she couldn’t eliminate all these things from No-Name’s life—it wouldn’t be fair to deprive her of apples and carrots, and if she was never sprayed again, flies would drive her crazy. What Stevie was going to do was use a technique that Judy Barker had suggested. Each day for three days she’d use one possible allergy causer on No-Name. The first time it would be fly spray, the next it would be saddle soap, and the next it would be snack food. Today Stevie decided to test fly spray. So she sprayed No-Name’s head liberally.

  When she and No-Name met Phil and Teddy in the Marstens’ outdoor ring a few minutes later, Phil sniffed the air. “Phew. What’s that smell?”

  Stevie felt a little embarrassed. “Fly spray. I’m checking to see if No-Name is allergic to any of the ingredients in this brand.”

  “If she is, we’ll know soon,” Phil said, moving Teddy to the side to get out of smelling range. “Ready for the dressage lesson?”

  “Ready,” Stevie said. “So which is Teddy’s stiff side?”

  “His left,” Phil replied. Stevie knew that the muscles on a horse’s stiff side were longer than they were on his soft side. This was because horses naturally favored one side over the other, just the way humans favor their right or left hand.

  “Can I see?” Stevie asked, backing No-Name into the center of the ring so she could watch.

  Phil urged Teddy into a sitting trot, a gait that was gentle enough so that he didn’t have to post. Teddy was now turning toward his left, his stiff side, and stretching his right side, his soft side. A horse who hadn’t been trained would resist this maneuver. But Teddy was trotting easily, and Stevie could see that Phil was using a minimum of rein contact.

  “You’ve been working with him,” she commented.

  “Hey, Teddy deserves the best,” Phil said with a happy smile.

  “How about some figure eights?” Stevie said.

  “With pleasure,” Phil said, turning toward the center of the ring. When Teddy got to the middle of the eight and moved to the left, Stevie saw how supple his spine was—this was also the result of good training, she knew. Stevie also saw that Teddy changed his bend from left to right with no resistance.

  “That’s good,” Stevie said, truly encouraged. Phil had said that he needed a lot of help, but he was clearly off to a good start. He and Teddy should do fine at dressage.

  “How about a turn on the forehand?” Stevie called out.

  Keeping his front feet in one spot and using them as a pivot, Teddy moved his hindquarters in a circle. To do this, Teddy’s hind legs had to step across each other, a thing that most horses truly hated. Again Teddy showed no sign of nervousness or reluctance. This was a well-trained horse.

  “And now for the ultimate toughie, the countercanter,” Stevie said.

  “I don’t know,” Phil said. “We’ve worked on it, but …” His voice trailed off. He put his hand on Teddy’s neck and said something that Stevie couldn’t hear. He and Teddy cantered clockwise around the ring; then he brought Teddy off the rail and started him cantering in the opposite direction without changing leads.

  Stevie’s jaw dropped. The countercanter was a movement that a lot of riders wouldn’t even try. It was extremely difficult to get an untrained horse to countercanter, because an untrained horse wants to be on the left lead when he’s cantering left. Actually, that’s not even what an untrained horse wants to do, it’s what he has to do because he’s not supple enough to go on an opposite lead. But here was Teddy cantering left on a right lead. And now Teddy was moving away from the rail and then back into it in a serpentine pattern without changing leads.

  “I can’t believe it,” Stevie said as a smiling Phil rode up to her. “Have you guys been practicing day and night?”

  “Teddy wanted to impress you,” Phil said with a grin. “I told him he was overreaching himself, but you know how Teddy is.”

  Stevie was totally thunderstruck by this display. Phil had always been a good rider with great natural instincts, and Teddy had always been a fine horse, but now they had passed to a new level. Taking a close look at Teddy, she could see that he had become better balanced, more muscular, and above all more self-confident.

  “There’s only one thing,” Stevie said. “You don’t need my help. You two are great.”

  Phil’s face fell. Was working together on dressage another part of Phil’s plan to spend more time with Stevie?

  There must be a solution to this, Stevie thought. “So you’ll do something else.” She searched around wildly for an idea. “Something beyond dressage.”

  “Like what?” Phil said gloomily. “There isn’t anything beyond dressage.”

  Suddenly, she didn’t know why, Stevie saw Lisa at the end of Annie, stepping down to the edge of the stage and singing “Tomorrow.” She could hear Lisa’s husky voice and feel the hush of the crowd.

  “With music,” she said, still thinking. “You’ll ride to music.”

  “Teddy loves heavy-metal rock,” Phil joked.

  Stevie giggled. “I don’t know about heavy metal. But we’ll think of something.”

  “You’ll join me, Stevie? There’s no way I can do this alone,” Phil said.

  “A duet,” Stevie said. “I’m into it.”

  Actually, she couldn’t wait to get started working with Phil on a dressage duet. Not only would it be fun to spend time with him, she’d have a chance to find out how much dressage training No-Name had had in her past.

  So what if Stevie didn’t have a clue about how to create a horse duet? Her friends in The Saddle Club would help her and Phil figure out a horse-dancing routine.

  “FIRST, IT IS essential that a horse be active and free but still display its inherent strength and speed.”

  Hollie rolled her eyes, looking at Lisa as if to ask what they were doing there. It was a Saturday morning at Pine Hollow Stables, and the wind from the Silverado Mountains was fresh, the flowers in the pasture on the other side of the fence sparkling with dew. So what were they doing listening to this dull woman drone on about dressage?

  Lisa rolled her eyes, too, to show that she agreed the speaker was boring—she didn’t want Hollie to think she thought that everything that had to do with horses was exciting. She had her limits, too. But then Lisa looked back to the speaker because she knew that if she didn’t pay attention, Max would blast her afterward. Max hated talking during Horse Wise meetings, but he hated talking even more when they had a guest speaker. Lisa shifted to her other foot and turned her attention back to the speaker.

  “Horses are athletes,” the woman was saying in a nasal voice, “and so are riders. Dressage is a way of getting horse and rider in shape.”

  This made sense, Lisa thought, but for a new rider like Hollie, the only way to really understand dressage was to experience it. The first time Hollie got her horse to lengthen his stride without quickening it, the first time she experienced that odd floating feeling, she’d understand why some people, like Stevie, loved dressage. That floating sensation was what a ballerina feels at the top of her leap, or a basketball player feels at the moment of a slam dunk. For a moment you’re not earthbound. You are one with your horse.

  “To be a dressage judge requires accuracy of mind, a deep knowledge of horse anatomy, and courage,” the speaker said.

  Lisa heard a muffled squeak and looked over to Hollie. Her friend was in severe danger of breaking out in giggles. The speaker had made a dressage judge sound like Superman. It’s a bird, it’s a plane, no, it’s a dressage judge, Lisa thought. She grinned herself and then smothered the grin because she could feel Max’s eyes on her.

  “At the exhibition at Cross County you will be able to see dressage judgin
g at its finest,” said the speaker with a satisfied smile. “No actual prizes will be awarded, but the judge, namely myself, will offer insightful comments.”

  “It’ll be standing room only,” Hollie muttered.

  Lisa gave her a warning look, but it was too late. Max walked to the center of the ring and said, “I hope you’ve all been listening.” He looked directly at Hollie. “Because now we’re going to put the principles of dressage in action.”

  Hollie sighed, and Lisa could tell that she was wishing she were somewhere else.

  When all the riders were mounted, Max nodded toward Hollie’s horse. “Some horses, like Delilah, have a tendency to let their heads droop. Does anyone know how to get a horse to raise its head?”

  “You pull on the reins,” said Hollie, and she pulled Delilah’s reins without waiting for Max to answer. Delilah’s head went up, but now it was too high, giving her a stiff, uncomfortable look.

  “That’s how you don’t do it,” Max said sharply. He never liked to see a horse in discomfort.

  “Sorry,” Hollie said, loosening the reins and slumping.

  “Who knows?” Max said.

  No one raised her hand, because no one wanted to make Hollie look bad.

  “It’s not your fault,” Max said, turning back to Hollie, “but next time find out what to do before doing it. It’s not fair to experiment on your horse.” He looked back at the group. “Anyone know?”

  Carole raised her hand. “You have to get her back legs farther under her. Delilah tends to walk with her hind legs sticking out. If you get them under her haunches, her head will go up.”

  “Right,” Max said.

  Lisa, who was proud of how well Carole had explained Delilah’s droopy-head problem, looked at Hollie to see if she was impressed. But to Lisa’s disappointment Hollie was staring at the road that ran to Pine Hollow. Clearly, Hollie was wishing she were someplace else. Lisa felt terrible because Hollie wasn’t finding Pine Hollow as much fun as she’d expected.