Charlie Franks is A-OK
Page 3
‘Aw, that’s sweet,’ said Coco, and she got all gushy as well. ‘I love your hair,’ she said to Matilda, or was it Sarah? I couldn’t really tell them apart. ‘The highlights are so great.’ Then they grabbed her arm and were all crowding around her so that I had to follow along in their path as they led us over to the year nine homeroom.
‘It’s okay,’ announced Matilda as we went inside. ‘The twins are here, and they’re awesome.’
A group of maybe twenty kids looked up at us and I suddenly felt totally weird. Almost like I’d forgotten to wear my skirt or something, or I’d turned up in my pyjamas. Coco, on the other hand, looked like she was utterly happy. She was chatting and laughing and waving her hands around like she was telling the most interesting stories in the world, and everyone was listening to her and looking at her and laughing at her jokes.
I looked around me for help but there was none to be found. For the first time in my life, I felt like an outsider. Where were the girls who looked like me—normal? In year seven in Sydney, there had been quite a few. Had I missed some memo about what girls had to become in year eight? How had every girl turned into a fashion model in the short year we’d been home-schooled? No one was looking at me. No one even asked me a question. It was all ‘Coco, Coco, Coco.’
When we went to class, I felt better. I’m good at schoolwork, although obviously I’d prefer sport. But at recess, Coco grabbed my arm and pulled me along with her new friends.
‘Try harder,’ she hissed in my ear. ‘You’ve got to talk more. What’s going on with you?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Is there a game of soccer or something I can play?’
‘In that?’ Coco pointed to my skirt and looked a little scandalised.
‘I don’t care,’ I said, but she wasn’t listening.
‘So, what do you guys like to do?’ she asked Matilda. ‘What are you into?’
‘Dance, mostly,’ shrugged Jemima. ‘And just hanging out.’
‘Do you play sport?’ I asked, doing what Coco told me to do. Try harder. Usually conversation wasn’t a problem for me but this just felt weird.
Matilda made a face. ‘No. Do you?’
Coco came to my rescue. ‘Charlie’s a really good runner. Especially cross country.’
Sarah’s eyes got big. ‘I hate cross country. I’m so bad at it. I never actually even finish the race.’
‘Yeah, me too,’ said Baylor. She sat up straighter and kind of tossed her hair. ‘If you’re going to do sport, you should ride a horse. It’s so good for you.’
My heart bounced in my chest. At last, someone I could understand. I gave Baylor a big grin. ‘I ride. I love it! Even though I only started last year, really. I mean, I’ve loved horses since forever, but I never had a chance to ride them.’
Baylor smiled and lifted her chin. ‘I’ve been riding since I was four.’ She looked down at her shoulder like she was waiting for someone else to say something.
‘Baylor won show jumping at the Inter-schools comp last year,’ said Matilda. ‘And she got selected for the Royals.’ She sounded proud, but my face must have looked confused because she quickly explained. ‘The Royal Easter Shows. You know.’
‘That’s really great.’ I was impressed. ‘Wow. You must be good.’
Baylor made a face that tried to say ‘oh, it’s not that important’ but I could tell she was actually really pleased with herself.
‘I’m hoping to compete this year,’ I told her. ‘Maybe I can get some tips off you.’
Baylor smiled. ‘Of course I’ll give you tips. Always happy to help someone who’s just starting out.’
I smiled back and the bubble in my stomach that had been getting bigger and bigger all morning finally started to deflate. Maybe school would be alright. No one was playing sport but at least I could talk to Baylor about horses. Maybe one day we could even ride together.
4
Chapter 4
Ness said that the first thing to do if I wanted to compete in show jumping was to get myself to pony club. So she and Mum took Tessa and me over to Kangaroo Valley the first Sunday after school started. It was an early start; we had to catch Fozzles, groom her and gather her stuff and then get her into Ness’s double horse float with Tessa’s horse, Prince, before we drove over the mountain and into the little town of Kangaroo Valley to their pony club grounds, all green and gorgeous, looking out to the escarpment in the distance.
Ness’s four wheel drive was as filthy as ours and every car I’d ever seen in Budgong. Apparently, we weren’t the only people in the area with a dirt driveway. ‘Look, Tessa,’ I said, pointing to the window. I’d written with my finger, ‘clean this car’.
‘Ha ha,’ she said. ‘Don’t write that. It’s my job to wash the car with James and I don’t want to do it all on my own while he’s off with Coco. I’d rather ride.’
‘Me too. Who cares about a clean car anyway? Not when you can be on a horse.’
We tacked up and I swung my new birthday saddle over Fozzles’ back. ‘Come on, girl.’ I gave her a rub. She smelt so horsey and gorgeous I snuggled up for a quick hug. ‘Time to do up the girth.’
I reached under her belly for the other end of the belt and pulled it through the buckle. Almost the first thing Ness ever taught us about saddling up a horse is that they hate having the girth done up. Most horses will take a big breath in and hold it as long as they can, in the hope that you’ll do up the girth while their chests are all puffed out. Then, when you’ve walked away, they can let out their breath and the saddle won’t be as tight. I got tricked once, but luckily Ness was checking. She made me stop and do it up again so I wouldn’t fall off because of a loose saddle.
‘Let go,’ I said to Fozzles, who seemed to be taking an even bigger breath than usual, her belly was so big. ‘Just relax. I’m not going to hurt you, silly old thing.’
I waited for her to breathe out so I could pull the belt tighter, but it didn’t seem to go down at all. After a long time, I did up the belt as best I could and went to find Ness. ‘The first time I put the saddle on, it did up on the third hole, but now it seems to be back to the second hole. I can’t get it any tighter.’
Ness had a fiddle and a tug and pulled the girth as hard as she could but she couldn’t get it back to the third hole. ‘Strange,’ she said. ‘Maybe she’s put on some weight. You haven’t ridden her as much since you started school, and she’s been grazing all day.’ She made a face like, ‘oh well’. ‘You’ll be fine,’ she said, and walked off to talk to the pony club woman.
Mum came over. She seemed hot and a little pale. ‘Everything okay? Are you all set? I’ll take my chair over to the shelter and watch you from there.’
‘Awesome. I’m so excited.’
‘Can I clap if you do a good jump?’
‘Of course!’ I gave her a hug. ‘I love it when you watch my stuff.’
‘When I watch your stuff?’ said Mum, in mock horror. ‘I always watch your stuff.’
‘I know you do.’ I kissed her on the cheek. ‘Go and sit down. You look like you need a drink.’
The pony club woman called everyone in and explained how the jumps were arranged, so Tessa and I led the horses onto the paddock.
‘You’re new, Charlie,’ said the woman, ‘so take it easy. Don’t do more than you think you can do confidently, okay?’
I nodded. She gave more instructions and then we were on our horses, trotting, cantering and turning, doing all the things that Ness had taught me since we moved to Budgong. It was hot, but I was in heaven, even with the sweat running down my nose and into my eyes. Fozzles was perfect, and the two of us worked amazingly together.
When we started jumping, Ness called me aside. ‘I’ve said to her that you’ve done a few jumps under my instruction. If you feel confident, you should try a few more. You’ll know if you can do it. Just take it steady. Remember—be consistent. You’ve got to think it through, and prepare Fozzles for where you want to go. Chin up, look ahead,
heels down, remember timing and—’
I grinned at her. ‘Yeah, I know. Impulsion and direction.’
She raised her eyebrows at me. ‘Exactly. Impulsion and direction.’ I nodded and turned to go, but she was still calling after me. ‘Don’t rush! Stay calm. In control.’
The first jump felt a bit wobbly. Ness called me over and said I’d taken the approach wrong, so I adjusted it for the second one and came in feeling much better. Fozzles obviously felt better about it too because we sailed over it easily. I heard Mum clapping from the shelter area and turned to smile at her.
‘That was good, Charlie,’ said Ness, back at the fence. ‘Next I want you to head for the big log.’
I looked over to where she was pointing. It was a log, probably pulled in on a trailer from someone’s farm, but a perfect height and size for jumping.
‘You can do it, girl,’ I whispered, and brought her in for the approach. Again, we sailed over, flying like you only do in your dreams.
After about four goes over the log the pony club lady called me over. ‘You’re doing very well, Charlie. I think you could try the bigger jump if you feel up for it. I know it’s scary, but I think you might be able to do it.’
I looked to where she was pointing. It was a jump that would have come up to my hip probably, set up for the kids who’d been there for years and who competed every year at the show. From the way she was talking, I could tell she thought I’d be nervous, thinking about it.
But I wasn’t and I didn’t waste time worrying about whether I should be or not. Instead, I made sure no one else was jumping, then squeezed Fozzles into a steady canter, heading straight for the centre of the jump. Out of the corner of my eye I could see a vehicle pulling a massive horse float drive down towards the grounds, but there was no time to focus on that. Instead, I focused on Fozzles, riding with her towards the red and white poles, controlled and steady, and feeling her rhythm through my seat. I balanced in the two point position, heels down and eyes up, and then we jumped together, and we were flying and I was whooping inside. I knew she was happy as well, because jumping set us totally free for those few seconds and it was wonderful.
We landed and kept running, and I was still yelling ‘yeah!’ in my head and Fozzles was snorting hot breaths out of her nose, and I’d never felt so alive and excited. We came to a stop and turned around to see every single eye on us, including Ness and Tessa, and Mum, of course, and the pony club lady too. But also, there in front of me, with an undiscernible look on her face and with a huge black horse on a lead rope, was the girl I’d met at school.
It was Baylor.
‘Hey,’ I said, panting and sweaty, riding up to her. ‘I didn’t know you came to this pony club.’ I swung off Fozzles and landed bumpily on my feet. ‘That’s really cool. What’s your horse’s name?’
She looked confused, like she didn’t really know who I was. Her eyes were narrow and she was sort of pulling her chin into her neck.
‘It’s Charlie,’ I said, trying to be helpful. ‘The new girl from school.’
‘Yeah, I know.’ She shook her head and came to life a little. ‘Charlie. But didn’t you say you’d only just started riding?’
I smiled. ‘I guess. But it’s been a whole year now. So not really.’
She pulled her horse in closer to her. ‘This is my horse. He’s a Warmblood.’
I turned my head to look at him. He was one of the most beautiful horses I’d ever seen; over sixteen hands high and so glossy he looked like he’d been wrapped in plastic. His looks matched the float he’d arrived in; it was enormous and painted in shiny black paint with red trimmings. The car pulling it was also black, and there was no way I could have written in the dust on the window with my finger, because there was not one speck of dirt on it.
‘He’s beautiful. And so’s the float. What’s his name?’
‘Napoleon.’ I looked back at the float. Something had caught my eye. It was the word ‘Napoleon’ written on it in swirly red and gold calligraphy. I raised my eyebrows to say ‘wow’.
Baylor still looked stiff and unsure, so I tried to get her to relax. ‘Hey, are you going to get ready? I’d love to see you jump.’
She bit her lip and tossed her head back. ‘Yeah.’
‘Awesome. I’ll do another jump and then I’ll come back when you’re sorted.’
Baylor took a step towards the spotless boot of her spotless car and pulled out the shiniest looking tack I’d ever seen. I nodded at her and rode off for another jump, stopping by the shelter area where Mum was still sitting. ‘You okay? You’re still pale.’
‘I’m alright. Who was that you were talking to?’
‘A girl from school. Baylor. She’s like, the champion for show jumping apparently. Which is so cool.’
‘Competition,’ said Mum, raising her eyebrows in a half jokey way. ‘You’ll have to watch out.’
I made a face at her. ‘As if. Anyway, it’s fun. Competition is awesome when you’ve got someone who’s as good as you are. But she’s probably better than me. She definitely is, if she’s been to State.’
‘Even better,’ said Mum. ‘You’ll have someone to beat.’
I grinned. I’d had a friend in year five, Jessica, who was also a good runner and crazy, like me, for competing. We were first and second, and then second and first, and first and second again, until one year, when a freakishly fast kid turned up out of nowhere and beat the pants off both of us, leaving us at second and third. In year seven, I’d been with a group of kids who were all competitive, but in different areas, so we cheered each other on in our different events. Winning was fun, and winning and competing with friends was even better.
‘Yeah, I’ll definitely have someone to beat.’
5
Chapter 5
School had improved from the first day’s weirdness. There were still no girls who wanted to play soccer with me, so I’d dribbled the ball a couple of times with some of the boys from my year, but for some reason no one wanted to pass to me. Maybe I’d lost my skills in the time we’d spent at home, or maybe they didn’t know I could actually play, so they didn’t even bother trying to share the ball around.
I got a little frustrated after the fourth time of running up and down the oval yelling, ‘Over here! I’m free!’ and went to sit back with the girls.
Plus, Coco was right. It was hard to play in a skirt.
The girls weren’t so bad, once I got used to all the hair flicking and tossing and worked out how to tune out the uninteresting stuff they talked about. Mostly, I tried to talk to Baylor about horses and jumping. Sometimes that seemed to work, other times she got snippy and a bit rude. I put it down to her having a bad day, shrugged it off and moved on. It would have been better if Tessa had been around, but she and James were across town at the other school, so we mostly ended up seeing each other in the afternoons when we trained for show jumping. Then we pretty much did a swap—James hung out with Coco at our place, and I hung out with Tessa at hers.
‘Tuck your knees in, Tessa,’ said Ness one afternoon at training. She was perched up on the fence of the round yard. ‘Charlie, eyes up. Look ahead. Don’t look down at the jump. That’s it.’
I pulled Fozzles up and turned her towards Ness. ‘How high is that?’
‘Eighty centimetres,’ she said. ‘You’re going over it well, but you need to speed up a bit. More impulsion. You’ll lose points in competition.’
‘Only eighty centimetres? Can we put it up? Can I jump a metre?’
She tilted her head. ‘First show me you can keep your centre of balance without moving your lower legs as she jumps. Don’t bring your hips forward. Then I’ll put it up.’
‘Okay.’ I brought Fozzles around and headed back out into the yard. As we approached the jump, I centred my balance and concentrated hard on not moving the lower part of my legs, urging Fozzles on. ‘Come on, we can do this together.’ Fozzles came up to meet me, went over the jump and landed us on the other side, to
the applause of Ness.
‘That was better.’ She hopped off the fence and walked out to the jump. ‘I’ll put it up.’
‘I’m not trying that,’ said Tessa. ‘Prince clipped it at eighty.’
‘Go on,’ I urged her. ‘It’ll be fine. Just give it a go.’
She shook her head and turned Prince around to the gate. ‘I’m done. He’s tired and I need something to eat. I’ll try it next time.’
Ness let her out of the gate and then turned back to me. ‘So, superstar. Jump a metre. Just remember everything I’ve told you, and control, control, control. See what you can do.’
I grinned at her, then leaned down to Fozzles. ‘You and me, lovely horse. Let’s go.’
I applied pressure and she started out into the yard, cantering steadily, focused and willing as we approached the jump. My heart was beating, but I centred my seat, focused ahead and encouraged Fozzles on, and then we were flying over the jump, all one hundred centimetres of it, dancing in the air until we landed with a thump and a clatter of hooves.
Ness clapped. ‘Not too shabby. Not bad at all.’ She walked out to the middle of the arena to see me. ‘Good girl. You just got in there and did it. I think you’ll have a chance for a ribbon at the show if you can focus as well as that.’
I smiled a big wide smile. ‘I love this.’ I swung off and dismounted. ‘And I love Fozzles. She just knows exactly what to do.’
‘She’s a good girl,’ said Ness. She went up and gave Fozzles a stroke on her nose. ‘Yes, you’re a good and clever girl,’ she said in the voice she always used to say nice things to the horses. ‘She is getting a bit fat though,’ she said, stepping back and taking a look at her middle. ‘What’s she eating up at your place? Custard and cream?’
I shrugged. ‘Just the same feed she had when she lived down here in the paddock. I give her the same amount every morning, like you showed us.’