Horse Play

by Bonnie Bryant

  Carole’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea!” she said enthusiastically.

  “Why don’t you ask Max, then?” Stevie suggested.

  “Your idea, you get to ask him,” Carole replied. “Besides,” Carole continued, “Max has been sort of cranky lately and you have a way of talking people into things—even cranky people. And, I have to finish delivering sodas and then untack Diablo and groom him.”

  “I said I’d help,” Stevie reminded her.

  “After you ask Max,” Carole said. “See you,” she added with a laugh.

  Stevie began to tell Carole that she was a much more convincing person and Max would be more likely to go along with Carole’s suggestion, but she realized, when she was about four sentences into her argument, that Carole had disappeared. Comanche, now clean and shiny, content with his hay, just nudged his empty water bucket in response.

  “See how convincing I am?” she said to him. “I couldn’t even convince Carole to convince Max!”

  She unhooked the bucket and took it to the faucet, then rinsed it carefully. When Stevie was certain the bucket was clean, she put some cool water in it and brought it back to Comanche’s stall. She hooked the bucket on his wall so he could reach it. He began drinking right away.

  “I’m even being ignored by a horse,” she grumbled. It was time to talk to Max.

  Max’s office was in the main house on the far side of the indoor ring. In fact, it overlooked the ring so that he could oversee classes taking place there. In nice weather, however, almost all riding was outdoors.

  Stevie let herself into the main building and walked along the little hallway that led to Max’s office. He was inside, talking animatedly on the telephone. The office door was ajar, but he was speaking so intently that Stevie felt she’d be intruding if she walked in. She stood outside his office and waited. Carole was right that Max had been cranky and out of sorts recently. He seemed distracted, too, as if he had a lot on his mind. Although Stevie didn’t exactly want to snoop, Max was talking loudly and agitatedly on the phone. Stevie heard every word.

  “But I can’t do it now!” Max said, protesting loudly. “It’s out of the question.… Yes, I know what that means. If I lose it, I lose it! Of course it will affect the stable and the riders will suffer, but they’ll get used to it when the time comes.”

  Can’t do it? Stevie said to herself. Can’t do what? Why will we suffer? What will we get used to?

  “Of course it’s a matter of money!” Max said, raising his voice further. “If you want this business arrangement to work, you’ve just got to give me more time—or the whole deal will fall through and we’ll be out of business altogether!”

  Stevie jumped when Max slammed the phone into its cradle. Stevie wasn’t sure exactly what she’d just heard, but two things were clear. First, this was no time to ask Max for a favor. Second, whatever was going on with Max, it was a job for The Saddle Club!

  “BUT DEAR, AUNT Maude and I are here right now. We can take you home and you won’t have to walk,” Mrs. Atwood told Lisa as Carole and Stevie looked on. Lisa was more than a little embarrassed to be having this conversation with her mother in front of her friends, especially when Stevie had just told them that they absolutely had to have a Saddle Club meeting right away at TD’s—their favorite ice cream place at the nearby shopping center.

  “It’s okay, Mom, I can walk home by myself,” Lisa assured her mother.

  “I can pick you up at the shopping center, dear,” Mrs. Atwood persisted. “Or better still, why don’t your friends come over to our house? I’m sure we’ve got plenty of ice cream and sauces there. You could have your snack right in our kitchen.…”

  Snack, Lisa thought with annoyance. Her mother made it sound like milk and cookies after school. Why couldn’t her mother recognize that she was almost grown up—almost fourteen?

  “Mom,” she said much more patiently than she felt, “we’ll walk to TD’s and I’ll be home in about an hour. I’ll see you and Aunt Maude at home.”

  “I don’t get it,” Lisa said after her mother walked away. “She always tries to treat me as if I were still a little girl.”

  I don’t get it, either,” Stevie said. “My mother was only too glad when she didn’t have to drive me to and from riding lessons. But that’s not the real mystery we have to solve this afternoon. Let’s get dressed and over to TD’s. Right away.”

  Carole and Lisa tried to get Stevie to tell them what was up before they left the stable, but Stevie only said that the walls had ears. The girls were dying of curiosity. What could be so important that it shouldn’t be overheard by anybody?

  The girls changed into their street clothes as quickly as possible and walked over to the town’s shopping center.

  It wasn’t a mall by any definition. It was just a little shopping center with a supermarket, a jewelry store, a couple of shoe stores, a music store, and best of all, Tastee Delight.

  “So?” Carole challenged Stevie when they were seated in TD’s and had ordered their sundaes.

  “I’m worried,” Stevie began.

  “We already know that,” Lisa said sensibly. “But what exactly are you worried about?”

  “Max.” She had both of her friends’ attention immediately. Stevie leaned forward on the table and spoke in hushed tones, repeating as much as she could remember of the conversation she’d overheard from outside Max’s office. “It was like he was desperately trying to avoid paying something. And he was worried about the impact it would have on us!”

  “This doesn’t sound good,” Carole said, her face clouded with concern.

  Lisa regarded her two friends thoughtfully. She was trying to absorb everything Stevie was telling them, as well as the possible implications. While Lisa was thinking and Stevie and Carole were speculating, Veronica diAngelo sauntered into TD’s, followed by her group of admirers. She always tried to have a few adoring friends who trailed her wherever she went.

  “Look who’s here,” Stevie remarked, spotting Veronica. She wrinkled her nose.

  “Oh—hello,” Veronica said unenthusiastically, greeting The Saddle Club as if they weren’t really good enough to be in the same restaurant with her.

  The girls returned her greeting with equal enthusiasm.

  Veronica stuck her nose in the air and headed for her own table. She was so busy being snooty that she didn’t see a TD’s waitress, bearing whipped cream–covered sundaes. The two smashed right into one another and the waitress ended up dumping two sundaes all over Veronica.

  It was a sight for sore eyes. Veronica was so angry, she just sputtered. “My outfit! Do you know what it cost?”

  The waitress stood up and offered Veronica a hand. Although the collision had been one hundred percent Veronica’s fault, the waitress tried to be nice about it. “I’ll pay to have your clothes cleaned,” she offered politely.

  “You’ll pay to replace them!” Veronica retorted rudely.

  That was too much for Stevie, who knew that Veronica’s father was a very wealthy banker. She went to the waitress’s rescue. “Don’t worry,” she assured the woman. “Her daddy can afford to replace them.”

  Veronica glared at Stevie. Stevie tried to glare back, but the image of the impeccably groomed Veronica diAngelo sprawled on the floor of TD’s wearing designer jeans and a caramel sundae was just too much. She began to laugh. And it only got worse when Carole and Lisa joined in on the laughter. There were even some smirks from Veronica’s group.

  “My daddy can afford to replace a lot of things,” Veronica said threateningly, her anger now focused totally on Stevie. “In fact, he can buy anything in this town!” she announced. She shifted her weight and stood up, making no attempt to brush off the gooey mess on her outfit. She put her hands on her hips, faced Stevie squarely, and added, “If I say the word, he just might. And it would be too bad for you!”

  With that, she turned and marched out of TD’s. Her friends put on somber faces and followed after her.

&nbs
p; The Saddle Club gave the waitress a hand cleaning up the mess Veronica had left and they returned to their table.

  “Can you imagine what life would be like at TD’s if Veronica’s father owned it?” Lisa asked, frowning.

  “I’d stop coming, wouldn’t you?” Carole said to her friends. Lisa nodded, but Stevie was deep in thought. “Wouldn’t you?” Carole asked again.

  Stevie shook her head. “I don’t think she was talking about Daddy buying TD’s,” she said. “I just put two and two together and got one big nightmare!”

  “Oh, no!” Carole gasped, suddenly arriving at the same conclusion Stevie had just reached. “Do you think the person you heard Max talking to was Mr. diAngelo?”

  Lisa paled. “You mean you think he may take over Pine Hollow?”

  “You should have heard Max,” Stevie said. “He was talking about money and expenses—and how he needed more time. Then, worst of all, he was talking about what it was going to mean to us—the riders. You talk about money with bankers—like Mr. diAngelo. And you sound so worried when you talk to them if they’re going to do something terrible—like take over Pine Hollow!”

  “We’ve got to do something!” Lisa said.

  “Yeah, but what?” Carole asked.

  Both girls looked to Stevie. She was the one who always had the bright ideas, the plans, the answers.

  “We’ve got to save Pine Hollow for Max!” Stevie said with determination. “We’ve got to get him more money.”

  “Sure, but how?” Carole asked.

  Stevie wrinkled her forehead and stared at the sundae the waitress had just put in front of her.

  “Well, there are lots of things we can do,” she began. Her friends waited expectantly. “First of all, we’ve got to get more students at the stable. As long as Max is giving lessons, there’s money coming in, right?”

  Carole and Lisa nodded.

  “Then, we have to think how we can raise money for him—if only we can do it in time!”

  “I think it’s the end of the silly season,” Carole added.

  They all agreed to that.

  “COME ON, LET’S pay up and get out of here!” Stevie said. Lisa wondered if maybe her boysenberry sundae on coffee ice cream hadn’t been the success Stevie had been hoping for, but obviously that wasn’t the case. Stevie gobbled the last few bites of it, scraped the dish clean and grabbed her check.

  “What’s our first step?” Lisa asked, trying to impose some logic and order on Stevie’s frenetic activity.

  “We have to find some new students for Max, that’s our first step,” she announced, standing up.

  Lisa and Carole followed her. They each paid their checks then left TD’s. Lisa glanced at her watch. Her mother would expect her home in about a half an hour. She hoped that Stevie’s plan, whatever it was, wouldn’t take more time than that today. Not that she minded staying with her friends longer, but her mother seemed so concerned with her these days. It made Lisa concerned about her mother.

  “Look! There’s a good candidate!” Stevie said, pointing to a policeman who was walking across the shopping center. Willow Creek was a pretty small town and everybody knew Officer Manchester. Stevie ran over to him.

  “Uh, wait, Stevie,” Carole began, but it was too late.

  “What’s the matter, Stephanie?” he asked. He always called all the young people in town by their formal names.

  “Oh, nothing,” she said, casually. “I just wanted to do you a favor,” she replied. “I wanted to let you know about something really terrific over at Pine Hollow.”

  Officer Manchester cocked his head and seemed interested in what she had to say. Lisa didn’t think it meant much. He was a good policeman, and a good policeman always listened carefully to people.

  “Max is offering a special newcomers’ package at the stable. Twelve lessons for the price of ten. It’s such a deal you couldn’t possibly miss out on it.”

  “Very interesting,” the policeman said. “Twelve for the price of ten?”

  “Only for newcomers,” Stevie said.

  Carole and Lisa glanced at each other. There was nothing new or special about this offer. It was the newcomers’ package Max always offered.

  “Sounds like a good deal to me,” the policeman told Stevie. “I’ll have to think about it.”

  “You do that,” Stevie said. She sounded just like a salesman who was about to land a big deal. She reached out and shook Officer Manchester’s hand. He shook her hand, saluted briefly, and continued on his rounds.

  The girls began to walk in the opposite direction, toward the street where Lisa and Stevie’s houses were.

  “What made you think he’d be interested in beginner’s lessons?” Carole asked Stevie when he was out of earshot.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Stevie said. “Just seemed sort of natural, a police officer and horses. With some people, you just get this feeling.…”

  “Maybe it’s because you’ve seen him on a horse before?” Carole suggested.

  Stevie stopped. “I have?” she said, puzzled.

  “Think about it,” Carole said.

  Stevie thought. As she thought, she could hear the familiar clop of a horse’s hooves. The girls all turned around. There, mounted on one of the police department’s horses, was Officer Manchester. Stevie realized that she was right to think that he and horses were a natural combination. In order to be a mounted policeman, he had to be an excellent rider already.

  Almost anybody else would be embarrassed by the mistake, Lisa thought, especially since Officer Manchester had been wearing breeches and high boots when Stevie gave him her sales pitch for beginners. But Lisa and Carole watched in amazement as Stevie walked over to him again. He pulled his horse to a stop. She held the reins and patted the horse’s nose while she chatted with him some more.

  “What’s she doing now?” Lisa asked Carole.

  “I think she’s telling him about the ‘special’ Max has for experienced riders.”

  “Ten lessons for the price of ten?” Lisa asked.

  They were still laughing when Stevie returned.

  Come on, I’ll go talk to the man in Sights ’n’ Sounds,” Stevie said, pointing to the music store. “You two work on the shoe stores. Maybe if they sell riding boots there, they could get them at discount and save twice on their lessons!”

  “You’re crazy,” Carole said. “Have you considered trying to sell freezers to Eskimos?”

  Stevie shook her head thoughtfully. “No,” she said. “But do you think they’d like riding lessons?”

  A HALF AN hour later, Lisa was in a phone booth, calling her mother at Stevie’s insistence, to explain why she was going to be late.

  “Ask her if she wants to take lessons,” Stevie hissed at Lisa. Lisa gave her a look.

  “I think I got the assistant manager in Sights ’n’ Sounds interested,” Stevie told Carole while they waited. Lisa was having a hard time with her mother.

  “I’ll be home a little later, Mom,” Lisa assured her. “I’ll have your brownies then. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, okay?”

  “That’s the silliest thing anybody ever said to Lisa’s mother,” Stevie remarked irreverently. Carole wouldn’t have said it out loud, but she certainly agreed. Mrs. Atwood was a born worrier. Nothing would stop that.

  Lisa hung up the phone and sighed. “What next?” she asked with resignation.

  “The supermarket,” Stevie announced.

  “You think the butcher wants to ride?” Carole asked.

  “Not the people who work there,” Stevie said, rolling her eyes, “the shoppers.”

  “Well, excuse me,” Carole quipped.

  Stevie grinned, then explained.

  “See, you can tell from what people put in their shopping carts if they’ve got kids in the house. So, we go up to somebody with a lot of cupcakes, frozen pizza, or canned spaghetti—stuff like that—and sell them on riding lessons for their kids. Isn’t that a great idea?”

  “I
t’s pretty clever,” Carole said. “But then, you always are pretty clever.”

  “You’re right about that,” Stevie agreed. “So let’s go.”

  The girls walked into the supermarket with determination. Carole and Lisa followed Stevie as she wandered up and down the aisles, peering into shopping carts. She got a lot of dirty looks.

  Stevie seemed to be looking for just exactly the right blend of peanut butter, potato chips, pizza, and soda. She began to move in on a likely candidate. Lisa and Carole hid behind a large display of paper towels. They wanted to hear Stevie’s sales pitch.

  “Excuse me,” Stevie said to the tired-looking woman who was pushing a cart filled with frozen foods and desserts. “Would you be interested in starting your children on a new and wonderful activity? One which will hold their interest, provide healthful exercise, teach them responsibility …?” She paused to let her message sink in.

  The woman looked at her briefly and then, reaching for some fruit-flavored juice, said “No.” She turned her cart around and walked away from Stevie.

  “It figures,” Stevie said to Carole and Lisa when they emerged from behind the paper towels. “Did you see all the junk she was buying for her kids? She doesn’t care about them at all!”

  “Actually,” Lisa said, glancing at the departing customer, “judging from her weight and everything, I bet that all that junk is for her and she doesn’t have any kids.”

  “Good news for them,” Stevie said, then wrinkled her brows comically.

  Lisa wasn’t sure that made sense, but before she could figure it out, they were completely surrounded by little girls in brown uniforms. A determined but haggard woman was trying to control them.

  “Now, girls,” she said. “if we’re going to make our picnic, we must choose our ingredients carefully. I don’t want to see anything in the cart that’s not on the list. Amy, put back that bag of candy! Elsa, why are you taking the small package of rice when you know there are fifteen of us?” She spoke so quickly to the unruly group that it all sounded as if it were one sentence.