Driving Team

by Bonnie Bryant

  “No, listen,” Stevie said, her hazel eyes serious. “Veronica’s dog, Robespierre, is really sick. She’s gotten three calls about him since we’ve been working on the team driving project. Two were from her mother, I think, but the other was from Doc Tock herself.”

  “Doc Tock called?” The smile faded from Carole’s face. “Then it really must be serious.”

  Stevie nodded. “She doesn’t know if the dog is going to make it or not. Veronica’s really upset. She actually cried this morning.”

  “Veronica diAngelo?” Lisa asked in amazement. “Cried real tears?”

  “She hugged Danny’s neck in the paddock and cried,” Stevie reported. “I feel so sorry for her, I just want to do something to make her feel better. After I finished up at the stable, I took the bus out here. I thought maybe a china dog that looked like Robespierre might cheer her up.” Stevie touched the little dog she’d just been looking at. “This one’s perfect, but it costs about three times more than I’ve got to spend.”

  “That’s terrible about her dog,” said Carole. “I know how awful I would feel if anything happened to my cat, Snowball.”

  Lisa looked sad, too. “I don’t know what I would do if our dog, Dolly, got sick.”

  “I think anyone who loves horses can sympathize when something bad happens to any kind of animal.” Tears brimmed in Stevie’s eyes. “I just wish I could buy this and make Veronica feel better.”

  “If you think that little china dog will make Veronica feel better about Robespierre, then maybe we should all pitch in and buy it,” Carole said.

  Lisa’s jaw dropped in astonishment. “Buy Veronica diAngelo a gift? Guys, she’s barely civil to us. She’s never been nice at all, and she’s always getting us into trouble. Plus, that dog costs as much as a whole month of sundaes at TD’s.”

  “I know it’s not logical,” Carole admitted. “But these are not logical circumstances.”

  “Right,” agreed Stevie. “Normally we wouldn’t dream of buying Veronica anything, but normally her dog isn’t dying.”

  “Well, I guess I can relate to that,” Lisa said. “Count me in. Why don’t we make it a joint gift from The Saddle Club?”

  “Great idea!” Stevie gently lifted the little dog from the shelf and carefully took it over to the checkout counter.

  They pooled their money and paid for the dog, and, after the clerk had gift-wrapped it in the gift shop’s famous silver wrapping paper, they returned to the throng of shoppers in the mall.

  “Okay,” said Stevie, holding Veronica’s gift tightly under her arm. “Now tell me why you guys are here and not at the library.”

  “We’re looking for women with red pocketbooks over their right shoulders,” said Lisa.

  Stevie frowned. “Huh?”

  “Red pocketbooks,” repeated Carole. “Stevie, you wouldn’t believe this little girl we met at the library.” The three girls sat down on a bench, and Carole and Lisa filled Stevie in on Cynthia. They told her how Cynthia’s mother left her at the library almost every day; how Mrs. Davidson was nice to them but threatened to throw Cynthia out into the cold November rain; and how for the past two days they’d done nothing but read Misty to Cynthia and try to keep Mrs. Davidson from finding out.

  “Wow,” said Stevie. “No wonder you’re looking for her mother. How on earth are you going to get your report done for Max if you don’t find her?”

  “I don’t know,” said Lisa. “And I’m beginning to get really nervous about it. We don’t have a lot of time left.”

  “Well then, let’s split up and look for her. Three heads are always better than two,” Stevie said, glancing around the mall. “Let’s meet over by that security desk in half an hour. Surely among the three of us we can find her.”

  Carole smiled. “That sounds like a good idea to me.”

  They split up. Stevie took the two large department stores at either end of the mall; Lisa took the smaller stores on one side of the mall, and Carole the stores on the other side. A half hour later they met near the security desk.

  “Any luck?” said Carole, out of breath.

  “No.” Lisa shook her head. “Everybody I saw was either too young or too old. How about you?”

  “I saw one woman the right age, but she had another little child with her. Unless Cynthia’s got a mystery twin, it wasn’t her.”

  Both girls turned to Stevie. “Well?”

  “I saw one woman who thought I wanted to kidnap her child, another one thought I was trying to shoplift a toaster, and another woman almost banged me on the head with her big red purse because she thought I was trying to steal it.” Stevie sighed. “There are some pretty weird women with red purses running around this mall!”

  Carole laughed at Stevie’s efforts, but she was still concerned about the little girl. “I don’t know what to do now,” she said sadly.

  For a moment all three girls just sat there, staring at the flashing red light above the security station. Then Stevie snapped her fingers. “I know!” she said.

  “What?” said Lisa and Carole.

  “One of us can go up to the security desk here and tell the guard that her name is Cynthia and she’s lost her mother. The security guard will announce it over the public-address system!”

  “Won’t they ask for a last name?” said Lisa. “That’s one thing we don’t know about Cynthia.”

  “Say it’s too hard to pronounce,” Stevie replied. “Have them say, ‘Would a woman carrying a large red pocketbook please report to the security station? Your daughter Cynthia is lost.’ ”

  “Wait,” said Carole. “Cynthia might already be here with her mother this afternoon. She said her mother might come back and pick her up early.”

  “Well, if her mother stashes her at the library, she could easily stash her in some toy store here.” Stevie shrugged. “It’s a possibility, anyway.”

  Lisa and Carole looked at each other, knowing that this plan had Stevie’s fingerprints all over it, which meant it could end in disaster. But neither of them could think of anything else to do, and they both wanted to help the little girl.

  “Well, okay,” said Carole. “Who’s going to be Cynthia?”

  “I vote for Lisa,” Stevie said. “She’s the most logical, and the woman who thought I was after the toaster may have already described me to security!”

  “I don’t know,” Lisa said. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Stevie. “Carole and I will be close by, and if anything goes wrong, we’ll create a diversion.”

  “Yeah, I bet.” Lisa rolled her eyes. She looked at Carole and sighed. “Well, okay. Here goes nothing.”

  Stevie and Carole watched as Lisa walked over to the security station. She talked to a lady in a blue uniform for a moment; then suddenly the bouncy mall music stopped and a voice blared over the speakers.

  “Shoppers, could I have your attention, please? Would a woman carrying a red pocketbook please come to the central security station? Your daughter Cynthia is here waiting for you.”

  Stevie gave Carole a high five. “It worked!” she crowed. “Lisa’s a genius!”

  “Right,” agreed Carole. “Now let’s just see who comes to get little Cynthia.”

  The girls sat and watched. It seemed as if hundreds of shoppers passed by, but not one person with a red pocketbook stopped at the security station. Suddenly Stevie jumped up.

  “What is it?” asked Carole.

  “It’s Mrs. Atwood,” replied Stevie. “Dead ahead!”

  “Lisa?” Already they could hear Mrs. Atwood’s confused voice. “Why are you talking to the security guard? Has there been some kind of problem?”

  “Uh, no, Mom,” Lisa’s face turned red. “I just got separated from you.”

  “Are you Cynthia’s mother?” The guard looked down at Mrs. Atwood.

  “Cynthia?” Mrs. Atwood frowned.

  “Look!” Stevie shrieked. “There’s Cynthia!” She and Carole ran over
and hugged Lisa as if they hadn’t seen her in years.

  “Cynthia?” Mrs. Atwood repeated. “You mean Lisa? Stevie? What are you doing here? And what is going on?”

  “Lisa?” said the security guard, now puzzled as well.

  “Yes,” said Stevie, still clinging to Lisa and ignoring Mrs. Atwood. “Cynthia Lisa. Everybody calls her Cynthia except her friends and her mother. We call her Lisa. Cynthia L. Atwood.”

  “But I thought you said your last name was unpronounceable.” The guard frowned.

  “It is, it is,” said Stevie. “We just call her Atwood because it’s easy to remember.”

  “Now, wait just a minute—” began the guard.

  “Look!” cried Carole. “There’s that blouse I’ve been dying to look at. Let’s go grab it before someone else buys it! Come on, Mrs. Baghdahnoviztzchki … er, Atwood, you come, too!”

  Stevie, Carole, and Lisa headed quickly over to the blouse. Mrs. Atwood shrugged at the security guard. “Thanks,” she said, scratching her head. “I’m not sure what for, but thanks just the same.”

  “Not a problem,” the guard said, looking at the three girls and shaking her head.

  By the time Mrs. Atwood reached the blouse display, the girls had decided it wasn’t the right color for Carole.

  “Anybody want to shop for anything else while we’re here?” asked Mrs. Atwood, still puzzled over the scene with the security guard.

  “Not me,” said Carole.

  “Me either,” said Stevie. “I’m really broke now.”

  “Well, then let’s just go home,” said Mrs. Atwood. “Stevie, I’ll give you a ride if you’d like. I have to say, girls, this is the strangest shopping trip I’ve ever made.”

  They trooped back to Mrs. Atwood’s car. The three girls sat in the back, dying to talk about little Cynthia but not daring to in front of Mrs. Atwood. Finally Stevie broke the awkward silence.

  “I’m really glad we bought that dog for Veronica,” she said. “But I think I’ll wait until the day of the demonstration to give it to her.”

  “How come?” said Lisa. “I mean, why not sooner?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Stevie. “It seems like Robespierre will either have recovered or not by then. If he’s better, then the little china dog will be like a celebration. If he’s not, well, then at least it will be something to remember him by.”

  “That’s a good idea,” said Carole.

  “Yes, it is,” Lisa agreed. “She’ll really appreciate it then, one way or the other.”

  Carole frowned. “In the meantime, though, Stevie, if she’s so upset about her dog, how are you going to manage the driving demonstration with her?”

  “Oh, it won’t be a problem,” Stevie said confidently. “She’s really pretty cooperative once you get past that hard armor she seems to always wear.”

  “Veronica?” Lisa said. “Cooperative?”

  Stevie nodded. “We had a super-long talk the other day. I think we finally found common ground.”

  She settled back in the seat and smiled while Carole and Lisa looked at each other, both of them raising their eyebrows in doubt. They’d never known Veronica to work on common ground with anyone.

  WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON WAS cold and cloudy, so riding class was held in the indoor ring. Stevie sat on Belle expectantly, watching for Veronica to lead Danny in. When Max began the class without her, Stevie knew Robespierre’s condition must be grim.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Lisa asked as they warmed the horses up in an extended trot. “You look like you’ve lost your last friend.”

  “I was just thinking about Veronica,” Stevie replied sadly. “She’s not here today. I bet she’s at poor Robespierre’s bedside, just waiting for the end to come!”

  “Oh, Stevie, you don’t know that. Why not try to be optimistic?” Lisa said, smiling hopefully. “Maybe the dog got better and Veronica went shopping to celebrate.”

  “Well, I guess that’s a possibility,” Stevie admitted.

  “Anyway, you’d better pay attention in class now and worry about Veronica and her dog later, when Max isn’t watching.”

  “You’re right,” said Stevie, trying to smile. “There’s nothing I can do about Robespierre, anyway.”

  Riding class passed quickly, ending with one of Stevie’s favorite exercises, in which the riders dropped their reins and jumped a series of cavalletti with no hands. Max congratulated the class on doing a good job, and soon all the riders except Stevie had brushed their horses down and were on their way home.

  “Hey, Stevie, what are you doing this afternoon?” Carole asked as she and Lisa stopped by Belle’s stall, their school backpacks slung over their shoulders.

  “I’m going to work with Danny and Belle in the driving harness,” replied Stevie, holding up one set of the harness she’d cleaned over the weekend. “Red said he would help me.”

  “I would help you, too, except I’ve got to go to the dentist.” Carole looked over at Lisa. “Could you stay and help Stevie this afternoon?”

  Lisa shook her head. “I’d like to, but I’ve got this huge report in French due tomorrow, and I’ve barely cracked the book.” She shrugged. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Stevie said with a smile. “I’ll be fine. And Red will be terrific.”

  “Will you call us and let us know how it goes?” asked Carole.

  “Sure,” Stevie replied. “I’ll talk to you both tonight.”

  Carole and Lisa left, and Stevie and Belle were alone. Stevie draped the heavy harness over her shoulder and clipped a lead line on Belle. “Come on, girl,” she said, unlatching the stall door. “Let’s go see if we have better luck learning to drive with Red than we did with poor Veronica.”

  By the time Stevie got back to the indoor ring, Red had the rest of the harness laid out. “Hi, Stevie,” he called. “Are you sure you want to get into this now? It’s pretty late in the afternoon.”

  “I have to, Red. Time’s running out, and Veronica just can’t be bothered with this right now.”

  “No kidding.” Red’s voice was tinged with sarcasm. “And when can Veronica be bothered with anything?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Stevie. “But not now. She’s got some problems at home.”

  “Yeah, right.” Red gave a disbelieving snort. “How far did you two get the other day?”

  “Not too far,” Stevie admitted, remembering all the kicking and biting between Belle and Danny. “As equestriennes, it wasn’t our finest hour.”

  “Then let’s start from scratch and get these horses accustomed to the harness. We’ll fit Belle first, since you’re used to working with her; then we’ll fit Danny. I’ll show you how all these little pieces of leather work together.”

  Stevie grinned. “Thanks, Red.”

  Explaining as he went along, Red began to show Stevie how driving tack was different from riding tack. There was a breech strap that stopped the wagon when the horse stopped, a crupper that kept the back pad from shifting forward on the horse’s withers, and a checkrein that kept the horse’s head in the right position. Though the bridles were similar, driving bridles came with blinders to keep the horse from seeing anything from behind.

  “Why wouldn’t they want the horse to see behind him?” Stevie asked as she carefully fit the blinders close to Belle’s eyes. “It doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Because if a horse doesn’t know what he’s pulling, he’s okay with it,” explained Red. “But if he looked back and saw a weird-looking thing like a wagon or a buggy right up against his tail, he might get scared and bolt or buck. Then you’d have a real mess on your hands.”

  “I never thought of that before,” said Stevie, giving Belle a pat on the neck. “But I guess it’s for their own good.”

  “Yours, too,” Red said.

  They worked a few more minutes on Belle, getting the tack adjusted comfortably under her tail and around her shoulders. Then it was Danny’s turn. Red brought him out slowly. Stevie wondered wh
at he would do when he saw Belle in such a funny-looking harness, but he stood quietly when Red led him to the center of the ring and Stevie began to put the same contraption on him.

  “Okay,” Red said when Danny stood outfitted just like Belle. “Let’s walk them around for a little bit and let them just get used to the way this stuff feels. You take Belle, and I’ll take Danny.”

  “Okay,” said Stevie. They walked the horses around the ring several times. Mostly the horses behaved as if they wore driving tack every day of their lives, although Belle twitched her tail against the crupper.

  “I don’t think they mind this too much at all,” Stevie said, amazed.

  “They’re both doing well,” said Red. “Let’s attach the reins and you can drive them around the ring.”

  He clipped a set of reins to each bridle, then pulled the horses up side by side. “Okay,” he said to Stevie. “Here are your reins. The two in your right hand are Danny’s, the two in your left are Belle’s. See if you can drive them around the ring.” He frowned at her hands. “You brought gloves, didn’t you?”

  Stevie shook her head. “I didn’t know I needed them.”

  “Try to remember them next time, or you’ll get blisters.”

  “Okay.” She took the reins and stepped back from the horses. With butterflies fluttering in her stomach, she looked over at Red. “What do I do now?”

  He laughed. “Just say giddyap and see what happens.”

  “Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Here we go. Giddyap!” She popped the reins gently over both horses’ backs, and all at once they began to move forward. Danny tried to push ahead of Belle several times, but mostly they walked side by side, with Stevie walking behind them. When they reached the end of the ring, Stevie didn’t know what to do.

  “How do I turn them?” she called frantically to Red.

  “Just pull back on Danny a little. They should get the idea.”

  Stevie pulled back on Danny, but she pulled too hard. The big gray made a complete turn. Suddenly he was walking toward Stevie while Belle was walking away from her!