Hot Potato

by Alyssa Brugman

  'Oh, great,' Shelby groaned.

  She sat down cross-legged and waited. They had to stop eventually.

  The two Arabs found her even more frightening sitting down. One of them snorted like a bull, and then danced around the other. Shelby stood up again and walked closer holding out her hand.

  The veranda light came on and then the flyscreen door squeaked open. Shelby could see the shadow of Mrs Edel pushing her feet into gumboots on the top step. She had a torch and she swung it over the paddock.

  Shelby dropped down flat, her heart beating fast. I'm allowed to be here, she told herself, but inside she knew no one would ever believe her made-up story. She felt like a trespasser as well as a thief.

  Shelby could see the torchlight move and shake as Mrs Edel came across to the fence. She could hear her boots crunching across the gravel driveway, and then the chink of metal as she opened the gate latch.

  If Mrs Edel caught her lying out here Shelby would be so embarrassed. It would be horrifying if Mrs Edel thought she was a bad influence on Lindsey. She could imagine her talking with Mrs Crook: 'Do you remember that terrible Shelby girl who used to come around here? She was such a dreadful influence on our girls.'

  'I know! Some children are just born wicked.'

  Shelby could hear the whispering sound of Mrs Edel's boots brushing through the long grass towards where she lay.

  What should I do? she thought, panicking. I could pretend to be asleep! She lay on her back with her eyes scrunched shut. I'll say I sleepwalked. No, that's dumb. Think, Shelby!

  But she couldn't think of anything. The sound of the boots stopped. Shelby held her breath, not daring to open her eyes.

  'You silly, silly girl!' Mrs Edel said.

  25 Cornered

  Shelby waited for the torchlight to shine across her face. She opened her eye a fraction, expecting to see Lindsey's mum looming over her. It took her a moment to realise that Mrs Edel was speaking to the Arabian mare.

  Shelby lifted up her head, risking a peek. Only a few metres away the mare rested her chin on Mrs Edel's shoulder. Mrs Edel had her back to Shelby and stroked the horse around the ears. 'What's all this fussing about, you silly girl?' she murmured.

  In the next paddock the quarter horse ended his vigil and watched on with interest. The thoroughbreds slowed to a walk and then bent their heads to graze.

  Shelby ducked as Mrs Edel swept the paddock once more with the torch before she turned back to the house.

  She stayed still in the long grass until the veranda light went out. Her cheek was throbbing now and her head pounded. What she wanted to do most of all was lie still and sleep. She thought about how cosy it would be lying in bed. But first she had something to do, and she'd come this far.

  This time as she walked across the paddock the two horses ignored her completely. Typical, she thought.

  She crept around the back of the stable block, out of sight of the house. She could hear the horses moving around inside and she hummed softly, so as not to startle them.

  Soon she could see Ajax's stable at the end of the row. In the gloom she could just make out the big gelding standing in the stable with his ears laid back. He was leaning his weight on one hind leg, and it made his rump look even more sloping and bony than normal. She slipped through the gate.

  'Hey there, big fella. Aren't you just the meanest boy in the whole world?' she said, trying to sound bright. Shelby edged around the front of him, keeping her hand on his chest or shoulder. Once she was past him Ajax swished his tail.

  Shelby pulled the fifty-dollar note out of her pocket and crumpled it in her hand.

  The tack room door creaked as it swung away from her hand. Shelby could hear Ajax's hooves rustling through the rice hulls as he moved around behind her. She tossed the note underhand. When it landed on the wooden floor it unfurled like flower petals.

  All done! Shelby smiled. That was much easier than she had thought. Now she could go home to her wonderful, warm, snuggly bed.

  She turned and took a step forward. She didn't know what had happened at first, but she was moving backwards and she couldn't breathe. She felt the second blow full in the stomach. One hoof hit her in the guts – right over her belly button. The other slid across her hip. She felt like throwing up.

  Shelby raised her arms and tried to take a step backwards to regain balance, but the back of her calf caught on the tack room doorsill and she fell into the room.

  A brief image appeared in her mind of the appaloosa filly stuck in a corner of the paddock, squealing with fear and panic, then the doctor's face, like a ghost, in front of her eyes, saying, 'Keep away from horses for at least four to five weeks.' Inside her head, she heard her own voice telling Erin on the phone, 'I just can't go in with the bad horses,' and then the back of her head hit the wooden floor.

  26 Busted like Custard

  'Wake up!'

  Shelby swam back into consciousness, and immediately wished for sleep. Her head pounded and her cheekbone felt as though it was so swollen that her skin would burst like an overripe tomato.

  Her chest hurt too, and there was a rattling sensation inside when she breathed. That was a new one to add to the list of pains, along with the ache in her stomach, and the sharp stabbing sensation over her hip.

  Two strong arms gathered her up – one around her shoulders and the other under her knees. She could smell a leathery scent, like the smell of the saddlery, but crossed with a musky aroma. She opened her eyes.

  'Clint,' she mumbled.

  'Don't move. Let's get you inside and then we can have a proper look at you.' He swept her up and carried her across the stable and into the laneway.

  It was still quite dark, although Shelby thought the light had a pinkish-grey quality, as though it was not far from dawn. She must have blacked-out for hours! Then she remembered she had awoken at some stage during the night, but her head hurt, so she lay still until sleep washed over her again.

  'It looks like you might have broken your cheekbone. You'll be lucky if he hasn't fractured your skull. I'll get Brenda to phone an ambulance. He's a monster, that horse. Maybe this time they'll shoot him. I'll shoot him myself!'

  'No! You don't understand.' Shelby struggled. 'I broke my cheek before. Please don't take me inside. I'll be fine. I just need to get home.'

  Clint wasn't listening. He was almost running now. 'Lord knows how long you've been lying there! I'm sure your parents are sick with worry.'

  'Let me go!' Shelby struggled more vigorously, and Clint's grip toughened. 'No! I broke my face on Friday! It wasn't Ajax, it was Hotty. You know – the chestnut. I've been to the hospital already. Ajax kicked me in the guts. I must have hit my head when I fell down.'

  'Then what are you doing . . .?' Clint slowed. Realisation crossed his face. 'Oh, this is about the money.'

  He loosened his hold under her knees. Shelby swung to the ground. She moved away, looking down, straightening her clothing to avoid his eyes.

  'Shelly Shoes.' He sighed.

  'Are you going to dob on me?'

  Clint rubbed his face with his hand.

  'What are you doing here anyway?' she asked.

  He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. 'I'm trucking some horses up the coast for a mate. I thought I'd get an early start so I can be back for the barbecue. I just dropped in to see if Tammy had left my payment.'

  They stared at each other for a moment.

  'I don't suppose your parents know where you are.'

  Shelby shook her head.

  He sighed again, hands on hips, then cast his eyes around, as though he was looking for something.

  'Come on then. I'll run you home.'

  Shelby climbed into the passenger side of Clint's truck and gingerly secured her seatbelt over her sore hip. She showed him where she had left her bike, waiting in the cab while he placed it in the back.

  Clint didn't say anything until they pulled out onto Gully Way.

  'I didn't want it to be you, Shelby.'
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  He was talking about the fifty dollars. She knew she was in trouble, because he wasn't using his nickname for her.

  She bit her lip and answered quietly. 'I didn't know it was for you. I thought Tammy had dropped it and so I picked it up when I was doing the feeds. I meant to give it to Mrs Edel when I'd finished, but I forgot about it. When I remembered I wanted to give it back as soon as I could, so I snuck out tonight.'

  Clint didn't answer.

  'I wanted to put it back straight away, because I didn't want anyone to think I was a stealer.'

  He nodded. It was a plausible story. Clint believed it because he wanted it to be the truth. Shelby wished it were.

  He sighed again. 'This is very awkward. You can't just go running around in the middle of the night, Shelby. I should be taking you straight to hospital. You've probably got pneumonia already, and internal bleeding. And what if your parents see me dropping you off at this hour? Can't you see that I will get into trouble too? You've put me in a terrible position.'

  'I'm sorry,' she said looking at her hands. 'You could just drop me at the shops.'

  'No, I'll take you all the way, but if your parents are awake I'm telling them where I found you, and I'll tell them that you need a bit of discipline in your life. I'm serious! You're out of control, Shelby. You used to be such a good girl.'

  They drove along for another few minutes in silence.

  'Tell me what happened to your face.'

  She explained what had happened.

  'This gift horse you girls bought is turning out to be quite a handful, isn't she?'

  'Mm,' she murmured, watching the road ahead.

  'Lucky you girls have got four months to whip her into shape before Brenda's birthday.'

  Shelby blinked. They were driving past the bakery, which was open now. The smells wafted through the air vents.

  'Brenda is a Virgo. We've joked about it, because Virgos are finicky.' Clint glanced at her. 'Are you sure you don't have anything else you want to tell me while you're already in trouble?'

  She didn't say anything. They were only around the corner now. Shelby was staring intently through the windscreen and hoping that the lights in her house would be out. The truck turned onto the street and Shelby's house was in darkness. She sat back in her seat, exhaling with relief.

  'Thank you, Clint, and I'm really sorry.'

  'You're very lucky,' he repeated, pulling on the handbrake.

  Shelby slid out of the cab and waited for him to retrieve her bike. 'It won't happen again,' she said.

  Clint shook his head. 'No more midnight adventures!' And then he climbed back into the cab.

  Shelby wheeled the bike up the driveway and leaned it against the side of the house. She slipped through the laundry door, changed and hopped into bed. Her body was aching all over and she was relieved to be lying down where it was soft. She rested her hand on her sore stomach, wondering if it would bruise as badly as her face.

  It wouldn't happen again. Clint had his money.

  Tammy need never know that it was lost. Erin was going to help out at the stables until she was well, and Hotty would be sold before she broke anyone else. Shelby smiled and closed her eyes. She didn't need to worry about anything. Soon everything was going to go back to normal.

  27 Annual Barbecue

  Shelby walked along the row of tables with her paper plate, surveying the possibilities. Mrs Crook had made the massive container of potato salad. Shelby could tell because she was standing behind it, holding the serving spoon and doling out scoops to the worthy.

  There were fluffy bread rolls with little squares of butter in alfoil, slices of beetroot, and pineapple chunks. There was coleslaw, tabbouleh and a platter of marinated chicken wings. Erin's mum had brought those slimy green dolmades again – much to Erin's horror – but, judging from the number left in the Tupperware dish, the adults were enjoying them.

  One of the mums was flipping sausages and minute steaks on the barbecue. The other parents hovered nearby, offering advice – ready to take over the tongs and egg-slice at the first opportunity.

  Shelby had taken a painkiller before they left home. She felt a little bit bleary and vague, like when you wake up in the middle of a dream. Her face didn't hurt, but she could feel a steady thrum of discomfort on one side of her head. When she woke up that morning there was a hoof-shaped bruise on her stomach and a graze on her hip, but neither was hurting now.

  She wasn't sure if eating was still going to be painful so she experimented, tucking a wedge of tomato between her teeth on the undamaged side of her face. It wasn't too bad, but she realised she wasn't hungry. Wow! I don't think I've ever lost my appetite before, she thought.

  Despite Mrs Edel's request, several of the families had brought their dogs, and a group of the younger girls had dragged the jumps out from where they had been stacked in the corner and were holding a jumping competition for all the dogs.

  Lindsey had volunteered to be the judge so she could make sure that it didn't become too rowdy. Erin, on the other hand, was contributing to the raucousness. She was sitting on one of the brightly coloured forty-four-gallon drums, and when a round was complete she'd bang on it with one of her hands. In her other hand she was using one of the arena's witch's hats to provide a running commentary.

  There was a tan border collie who was doing very well, but not all of the dogs caught on so quickly. A furry black cocker spaniel kept ducking under the brightly coloured poles.

  'Once again we have Olivia and Spanky approaching the jump at a nice loping canter. Will Spanky make it over this time? Errrr!' called Erin, mimicking a buzzer.

  The dog's young owner shouted, 'Spanky! Naughty boy!' Spanky glanced up at her, bounding, tongue lolling, and then at the next jump he slipped under the pole again.

  'What a shame. That's another penalty, eliminating this fine combination once again from the competition. Will the judge overlook this obvious disqualification one more time?' A nod from Lindsey. 'Yes, I thought so,' mused Erin.

  Shelby smiled and held her sore cheek.

  She was especially happy today because one of the conditions her mum set out for her coming to the barbecue was that her dad stayed, instead of dropping her off, like he usually did.

  'I think you'll be too tired to stay the whole time,' her mother had said in the morning. 'You do appreciate that your dad will have to hang around the whole time like a soccer parent, don't you?'

  Shelby realised that her parents thought she wouldn't want them there. She shook her head. All this time she'd hoped that her mum and dad would become friendly with the other horsey parents and get involved at Pony Club, and meanwhile her parents had been studiously giving her space to pursue her hobby without interference.

  When they first arrived at the barbecue Erin's father had handed her dad a light beer and the two of them wandered over to the corner of the arena, where all the eskies were stacked, to talk with Mr Crook.

  Erin's dad was waving his hands in the air, explaining something – his beer sloshing away in the bottle – and then all three of them burst into laughter. Shelby hoped that her dad would find common ground with the others.

  Clint sauntered over to join them. She bit her lip, but then Clint tipped his hat towards her. Clint was no dobber. Shelby's dad shook Clint's hand and they all talked together, relaxed and at ease with each other.