Gib and the Gray Ghost

by Zilpha Keatley Snyder

  “You’re right,” she said. “I think I should ask her.”

  So when she showed up at the barn a couple of hours later he supposed that was what she’d done. He’d been in the barn for quite a while by then and most of his work was finished. The horses were all fed and the gray was safely shut in a freshened-up stall, when Gib heard the barn door rattling and somebody calling his name. It was Livy, all right, but this time, instead of barging on in, she opened the door just a crack and called to ask permission. Gib made one last check to be sure everything was secure before he told her to come ahead.

  They went to look at the gray first and Gib showed Livy how much the ghost horse had quieted down. How he let Gib scratch his forehead now, and even pat his neck a little. Livy said again that he was the most beautiful horse in the world. And she also said, “I think it’s just amazing how you’ve been able to calm him down so quickly.”

  Gib chuckled. “Nothing amazing about it,” he said. “He’s not mean. Just scared to death. I bet you’d act pretty mean too if you thought you were fighting for your life. But it didn’t take him long to figure out that I wasn’t fixing to hurt him. You’re a smart one, aren’t you, old boy?”

  Gib was still talking to the gray and patting his neck when Livy sighed deeply. And when Gib just went on talking to the horse, she sighed more loudly. When he finally looked around she smiled and said, “I guess Hy’s right about you after all, Gibson Whittaker.”

  “Right about me?” Gib asked cautiously. He’d known Livy long enough to know that when she used that tone of voice he needed to be on the lookout.

  “Yes. When he said you had an absolutely magic touch with horses.”

  Gib grinned. “Hy said that?” he asked. But what he was thinking was that it didn’t sound too likely. He knew that Hy thought he spoke “horse lingo,” but an “absolutely magic touch” didn’t sound a bit like anything Hy would say. What it sounded like, Gib thought, was that Livy was working up to something. And sure enough it turned out that she was. What Livy wanted was for Gib to give her riding lessons.

  “Not on Silky,” she said quickly. “I know I’m not ready for Silky. I learned my lesson about that. But maybe on Lightning? If you started in giving me lessons right away maybe I’d be able to start riding to school by the time Christmas vacation is over.”

  So that was the way it started. The very next day right after lunch Livy showed up in the barn wearing an old divided skirt and carrying a saddle. The skirt and the saddle, she told Gib, had been her mother’s when she was a little girl, and they had been packed away in the bottom of an old trunk ever since. “Like she’d been saving them until I started riding,” she told Gib, twirling around so he could get the whole picture. “Don’t you think I look like a professional horsewoman?”

  Gib had to agree that, sure enough, she looked like a horsewoman, before he headed down to the tack room for Lightning’s bridle. Livy followed right behind him, chattering away about how she was probably going to be even more absolutely magical with horses than he was, because of being her mother’s daughter, and a Merrill and all. She went on talking like that while she watched the saddling up. Then she followed Gib and Lightning to where a bench outside the tack room door made a handy mounting block.

  But when Gib said, “All right. Up you go,” she suddenly became very quiet. Pressed back against the wall, fists clenched and eyes wide, Livy stared at Lightning like she was scared to death. Like she was paralyzed with fear, actually, except that her lips were moving in an almost silent whisper.

  “What?” Gib asked. “What are you saying?”

  The whisper got a little louder. “I can’t,” Livy was saying. “I’m afraid.”

  “No, you’re not.” Gib grinned at her. “Remember, you weren’t afraid before. When you got up on Silky you weren’t afraid. Remember how—”

  But Livy interrupted. Loudly. “I know,” she said. “I wasn’t afraid. And remember what happened. Remember how she bolted with me and—and—what happened to you, and everything.”

  Gib remembered. How Livy’s getting ahead of herself and trying to ride Silky had almost gotten her thrown, and how Gib had been sent back to the orphanage because her father had blamed the whole thing on him.

  It took a lot of talking on Gib’s part, quiet talking about how Lightning wasn’t Silky, and how they were going to take it easy and go real slow at first, before Livy climbed up on the mounting block and finally on up into the saddle. By the time Gib led Lightning up and down the aisle a couple of times she was herself again, talking and giggling and wanting to learn everything at once.

  Lightning was very patient, walking up and down the corridor between the stalls and turning in circles over and over again without fretting or getting too frisky. Gib was surprised because, as Hy was always saying, Lightning had a full head of steam for an old codger, and he could be a mite headstrong at times, particularly when he hadn’t been ridden regular. But now it was as if the old horse realized who was riding him and was taking the responsibility seriously. Gib was pleased with the old cow pony’s performance and after they were through with the lesson he told him so while he gave him some extra oats and a good grooming.

  Livy learned a lot that first day, things about using the reins and keeping your weight in your feet. And as it turned out, Gib learned a lot too. First of all he learned that Livy really had eavesdropped on his conversation with Hy. And, more importantly, that she hadn’t asked her mother’s permission to have a riding lesson. He hadn’t been too surprised when Livy spilled the beans about the eavesdropping, because he already figured she’d done that. But when she made her other confession, on their way back to the house, it did put his back up a little.

  “Livy Thornton,” he was beginning when Livy interrupted to say, “I know. It was very sinful of me.” She was hanging her head and looking pitiful as anything. After a minute she went on, “I am going to ask, though. I am going to get permission right away. Right now. As soon as we’re back in the house.” And when Gib gave her a look that said he didn’t know whether to believe her or not she added, “You can come with me while I do it. And you can help me do it too. You can tell my mother how well I’m doing and what a good horsewoman I’m going to be. If you do, I’m sure she’s going to say it’s all right. My mother has always wanted me to ride, and besides, she thinks you’re absolutely magical with horses.”

  Gib couldn’t help grinning. Seemed as how a whole lot of people had been talking about how “absolutely magical” Gib Whittaker was.

  They found Missus Julia in the library. She was reading a book and looking as filmy and elegant as always. Maybe almost too filmy, Gib thought, with her pale skin and those sorrowful shadows under her eyes. When she looked up and saw Gib and Livy the shadows faded, but then suddenly her welcoming smile changed to a questioning frown.

  “Livy,” she said, “is that my old riding skirt?” She didn’t ask why Livy was wearing it, but the way she said it asked for her. And when Livy started to tell about the riding lesson the frown deepened.

  “Livy Thornton,” Missus Julia said, “I told you to stay away from that barn and you said you would. Gib has enough to handle out there without you complicating things. I can’t believe you would—”

  But Livy interrupted then by kneeling down by the wheelchair and putting her head in her mother’s lap. She stayed there for a long time and for a while her mother only looked away while the sorrowful shadows returned to her face. At last Missus Julia sighed and asked, “What have the two of you been doing? Tell me about it, Gib.”

  Gib was still squirming and clearing his throat when Livy said, “It wasn’t Gib’s fault. It was Hy who said it would be a long time before anybody could get into Longford in a buggy. And Hy said it was a shame I didn’t know how to ride because if I did Gib and I could ride Silky and Lightning to school.” Livy raised her head then and looked at her mother. “I heard Hy say that, Mama. And Gib thought I had permission to learn. I didn’t lie to him exac
tly but I made him think you’d said it was all right.” She stopped talking then long enough to make a kind of sobbing sound before she went on, “I’m so sorry, Mama.”

  Livy really did look sorry but Missus Julia didn’t seem to be accepting her apology, at least not right away. But then Livy sighed and, clasping her hands in front of her chest, said, “Oh, Mama, I just love horses now and I love riding too. And I’m learning really fast. Aren’t I, Gib?”

  So Gib said she was doing right well. But Missus Julia went on frowning until he added, “Comes by it natural, I guess. Having Merrill blood and all.”

  Missus Julia laughed then and said, “Gibson Whittaker. I declare, horses aren’t the only creatures you know your way around.” Then she sighed and said, “All right. I’ll give you permission to go on with the lessons as soon as Hy is well enough to be there to keep an eye on—”

  “But Mama,” Livy interrupted. “We’ve already missed so much school. And if I have to wait until Hy is well we’ll have to miss a lot more.”

  She went on arguing then about how careful they’d be and how calm and gentle Lightning was. At last Missus Julia sighed and said, “All right, all right. You may continue the lessons, Gib, as long as ... She turned toward Livy. “As long as you both promise to use Lightning. Lightning only. Not Silky. And Livy, you stay away, a long way away, from that dapple gray.” She shook her finger. “You hear me, young lady?”

  “Oh yes, I promise,” Livy said. “I promise I won’t even get near his stall. And Mama, I’m so happy that I’m finally going to learn how to ride, and I know you are too.” Livy left then to get cleaned up for supper, but as Gib started to go Missus Julia asked him to wait “Don’t go, Gib.” She patted the sofa beside her chair. “Sit down a minute. I want to talk to you.”

  Gib sat, expecting more about Livy’s riding lessons, but when Missus Julia started to talk it was about a different subject entirely. A subject that Gib had been wanting to bring up for a long time without knowing how to go about it. “Gib.” Missus Julia looked almost as uncertain as Gib was beginning to feel. “Hy tells me that you’ve been concerned about”—she paused and smiled uneasily—“about, as Hy put it, ‘having paperwork that says you belong to be here.’ Is that right, Gib? Are you worried about that?”

  Gib swallowed hard, shook his head, and nodded it almost at the same time. “Well, I was just wondering ... ,” he was starting to say when Missus Julia went on, “I want you to know that I wrote to Lovell House way back last November offering to sign adoption papers, but no one answered for a long time. I didn’t write again as I probably should have because ... Well, there were the blizzards and, as you know, I haven’t been feeling very well. But just last week I finally did hear from Miss Offenbacher. Unfortunately, all she had to say was that you would have to come back and establish residency at Lovell House first, because Miss Hooper didn’t fill out the proper forms before she took you away.”

  Gib was horrified and it must have showed because Missus Julia reached out and took both his hands in hers. “Don’t worry, Gib,” she said. “You won’t have to go back. I’ve about decided that we’ll just forget about the adoption effort. We’ll let that Offenbacher woman go on biting off her own nose to spite her face. After all, a formal adoption isn’t necessary to say that you are where you belong and you will stay here until ...

  Gib looked up quickly as the old farm-out rule flashed through his mind. The rule about how a farm-out should be kept till he was eighteen and then paid fifty dollars and sent on his way. As if she had read his mind, Missus Julia shook her head slowly, her eyes softening toward tears. She pulled Gib toward her and touched his cheek as she went on, “... you’ll stay here as long as ever you want to,” she said softly. Then she turned him loose and told him to run along and not to worry anymore about adoption papers or anything at all. “Promise?” she said. “Promise me, Gib? No more worrying?”

  So Gib promised, and he meant it too. After all, just like Missus Julia said—and Hy too—a piece of paper wasn’t what made the difference. He wasn’t going to think about it ever again.

  After that the lessons continued. Every afternoon Gib saddled up Lightning, and Livy rode him up and down the corridor inside the barn. And after Livy’s lesson was over and she’d gone back to the house Gib stayed on for a while. He groomed lightning first off, and then did a little more teaching. But this time his student was the big gray, or Ghost, as Gib had started calling him.

  Gib had to laugh a little, thinking about his two hard-headed students. The one that was likely to kick and bite, and the other one, which could be pretty dangerous too and a lot harder to predict. But they were both improving, there was no doubt about that. Livy had quit grabbing the saddle horn, and Ghost was letting Gib groom him a little without even threatening to bite. The whip marks were invisible now under his winter hair, but Gib could still trace them with his fingertips. They seemed to have reached the itchy stage, because Ghost obviously liked it when Gib scratched them gently with the currycomb.

  The phone lines stayed down all that week, so the Rocking M continued to be completely cut off from human civilization, as Miss Hooper put it. At least until Wednesday, when Dr. Whelan showed up plowing through snowdrifts on his long-legged chestnut mare. He’d come, he said, to check on both his patients, Mrs. Thornton and Hy as well. Folks in Longford had been worried about them, Doc Whelan said, and he was right glad that he could go back and put their minds at rest.

  But the doctor didn’t put Gib’s mind to rest any about Ghost. When Gib asked the doc if he’d heard anything about a dapple gray that had gone missing he said he hadn’t, but he’d let Gib know if he did. And he also said that Hy wasn’t to even think about going outside anytime soon, and that they all should be very careful not to say anything that would make him think he had to. Like telling him about any kind of barnyard problems that needed his immediate attention.

  “And we shouldn’t tell him about the riding lessons either,” Missus Julia told Gib and Livy later. “Because he’d be bound to think it was his duty to be out there keeping an eye on things.”

  By the day before Christmas the snow had firmed up some and, for the first time, Livy’s riding lesson moved out to the big corral. Gib went out first on Silky and let her work the kinks out and, at the same time, pack the snow down a little, before he went back to the barn for Livy on Lightning. Then the two of them rode around the corral side by side.

  They started trotting lessons that day and Livy kept asking Gib to tell her how to ride out the trot the way he did. “With-out-boun-cing-like-this,” she said with a bounce between every syllable. It wasn’t, Gib discovered, an easy thing to explain and no matter what he told her she went right on bouncing. But when he said he thought they’d had enough practice for one day, she didn’t want to stop. Gib told her she might be sorry tomorrow, but she only shrugged and said, “Don’t be silly. I feel fine.” But the next day Gib noticed her walking kind of stiff-legged, and for the first time she suggested they should take a day off.

  “After all, it is Christmas,” she said, “and nobody should have lessons on Christmas day. Not even riding lessons.”

  Christmas was different that year, that was for sure. No dinner party for Longford guests and not even any fancy decorations. But Mrs. Perry cooked a special dinner with ham and sweet potatoes, and Hy made it extra special by coming to the table for the first time since the influenza. And there were gifts too, some of them handmade, and a few from the Sears, Roebuck catalog.

  Gib got a new jacket, which Miss Hooper had cut down from one that had been Mr. Thornton’s, and two pairs of hand-knitted socks. Gib didn’t have much to give. He surely would have liked to have had something better for the ladies than the letter openers he’d carved from an old chair leg he’d found in the basement. And for Hy a handmade frame for a Will James drawing of a bucking horse that Hy had cut out of a magazine and tacked up on his wall. But with no way to get into town, and no money to spend if he’d gotten ther
e, it was the best he could do.

  The day after Christmas the lessons in the big corral started up again, and the other secret ones with the Gray Ghost went on too.

  Chapter 17

  GHOST WASN’T A MEAN-NATURED horse any more than Silky was. He was just scared and angry and, Gib found out, definitely head-shy. Even after he’d started being real welcoming when Gib showed up with a currycomb and a pocketful of carrots, he didn’t like having his head touched. At least not by a hand that had anything in it. Right at first he even shied away from a brush if it got too near his head. And the first time Gib tried to put a halter on him things got pretty lively for a while.

  When Gib came in carrying the halter Ghost took one look and turned back into the wild-eyed thing he’d been when he first showed up, snorting and rearing and threatening to bite. It took a lot of slow, easy talk and a carrot or two before he would even come close enough to get a good look at the halter. But after he’d shoved it around with his nose he seemed to calm down some, and before long Gib was able to slip it on his head. And when Gib clipped on a lead rope the big gray let himself be led up and down the barn corridor with no fuss at all, except for a few snorts and nickers at the other horses as he passed their stalls. And when Gib brought in a saddle and blanket, things went even more smoothly.

  But the next step was the bridle and that was when Gib began to find out where the trouble lay. There was, Ghost told Gib plain as day, no way in the world he was going to let that bit be put in his mouth. And even after Gib reasoned with him for a long time he didn’t look to be changing his mind one little bit.

  That night Gib did a lot of thinking about Ghost’s problem. So much thinking, in fact, that he was kind of absent-minded at the dinner table. The rest of them happened to be talking about earthquakes and tornados, but Gib kept forgetting to listen to what was being said. And of course he couldn’t mention what he was thinking about because they’d all promised not to mention any urgent barnyard problems around Hy.