Charlie Franks is A-OK

by Cecily Anne Paterson

  Immediately my lungs started gasping and my hands got sweaty. It was him. It really was. His Facebook profile picture wasn’t the clearest, but it was definitely his hat, his face and his smile. Something inside me melted. ‘Is that him?’

  ‘Are you stupid?’ said Coco, rolling her eyes. ‘Look.’

  I looked and miserably nodded my head. She bounced up and down in delight. ‘You should friend him. Here, I’ll log out, and you log in and friend him.’

  ‘What? No!’ I sprang away from her, shocked. ‘I’ve never even talked to him.’

  ‘So? You don’t have to talk to someone to friend them.’

  ‘Well I do. That’s just nuts. Why are they your friend if you don’t even know them?’

  Coco shrugged happily. ‘I don’t know. But you can. Look, he’s got at least four mutual friends with me, so he would have with you too. See, Baylor’s one of them.’ She looked up. ‘You and Baylor are good now, right?’

  I raised my eyebrows. ‘Is that what she says?’

  ‘Is that what you say?’

  I shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know.’

  Coco went back to the computer. ‘I haven’t heard her say anything about you, so she must have let it blow over.’

  ‘Blow over?’

  ‘You know, just let whatever happened sort itself out.’

  ‘Nothing happened. She just got mean and made stuff up.’ Inside my chest, strangely, the air felt hot. I’d never felt this way before.

  ‘Well, whatever.’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, with Jake Smith, I think James knows someone who knows him, so that’s enough, right?’

  ‘Not for me. That’s weird.’ I picked up my book again and started reading, and nothing Coco did could make me look at her computer again. If Jake Smith, or whoever he was, was Facebook friends with Baylor, he could leave now. Anyway, he was distracting me from what I had to do next—win the next show, then train for the Inter-schools competition.

  Oh, and beat Baylor.

  12

  Chapter 12

  Beating Baylor at the next show was the only thing I thought about for the next week.

  I smiled nicely at school when I saw her. Even Coco couldn’t have picked that I didn’t mean it. The only time she stared at me with a question in her eyes was when she must have seen me turn away from Baylor, who’d started hammering on about something horsey. Like she was the only one who knew anything about horses, anyway. I don’t normally get mad, but Baylor was pressing the few buttons I had. I turned away and made a face, just a teeny tiny one, but Coco saw it. Her mouth opened like she was going to say something but I jumped up and made an excuse to get away. ‘Orange juice. Canteen. Back in a min.’

  Beating Baylor at the next show was also the only thing I thought about at home.

  ‘What events are you going in this time?’ asked Mum, in her pregnant, sick voice, back in bed again. ‘Are they the same as the Kangaroo Valley Show?’

  I flicked open the program. ‘Yeah, mostly. Hacking, barrel racing. The usual stuff. I’m only going to do show jumping, though.’

  ‘Will the same people be riding again?’ She shifted up in bed to get a look at the page I was holding open.

  ‘Probably some. Maybe a few. Not sure.’

  ‘That girl who rode last time and beat you, is it Bailey or something? Will she be there?’

  I turned my head so Mum couldn’t see my face. ‘I think so.’

  I didn’t say, ‘I know so. And she’d better watch out because I’m going to jump so high and gallop so fast that the wind behind me will whip off her super cute jacket and blow it away to the tops of the trees.’ I looked back at Mum. ‘She’ll probably be there.’ Then I added, ‘I’d like to win.’

  Mum lay back on her pillow. The smell of vomit was mostly gone now, but her face was still white, and her arms had lost their plump ‘Mum-ness’. She smiled a thin sort of smile at me and closed her eyes. ‘You’ll do absolutely great, sweetheart. I know you will.’

  It was the thought of beating Baylor that got me out of bed at five am once again on Saturday morning, after an afternoon the previous day of catching Cupcake, washing, brushing and plaiting her, and tying and sewing up her mane into tiny rosettes. I imagined the look that would be on Baylor’s face when I finished first, as I got Cupcake in the float we were borrowing from Ness and packed the stuff. And as I got myself dressed and ready, I imagined me being a gracious winner, shaking her hand and saying, ‘Congratulations, Baylor. You did really well.’

  Dad didn’t have quite the same motivation for opening his eyes at six am when I shook his shoulder and put a loud whisper in his ear. ‘Come on. Show time.’ He was bleary in the car and grumpy all the way down the coast until I finally let him stop for a coffee, once I’d figured out we weren’t going to be late and miss registration.

  ‘You’re staying all day, right? Because Coco isn’t coming this time, and you know I need someone to be there.’

  ‘Yes, dear,’ he said, in that voice that parents do when really what they want to say is, ‘I’ve told you twenty-five times I’m staying all day. How many times do you need me to repeat myself?’ I smiled out the window with satisfaction. I do better when there’s someone there, cheering me on. Cheering me on. Suddenly I felt anxious. ‘You’re going to watch, right?’

  ‘Huh?’ he said, coming up from his takeaway cup. ‘Watch what?’

  ‘Watch me, obvs. Watch me win.’ I thought better of what I’d said and corrected myself. ‘At least, try to win. Do the best I can do. Participate and try my best. You know, that stuff.’

  He sipped again, and I’m sure there was a tiny eye roll in there too, because his face was a bit turned away. ‘Yes, Charlie. Yes, I will be watching you. Also maybe reading The Land between events. Will that be okay?’

  ‘That boring farming newspaper?’

  ‘Yes. That “boring” farming newspaper.’ He grinned. ‘I can tell I’m not going to be converting you into a farmer anytime soon.’

  ‘If you have horses on your farm, I’ll be there.’ I grinned back at him. ‘Feeling better now? Six in the morning isn’t so bad, is it? It’s going to be a good day.’

  It was. A good day, I mean.

  In fact, it was better than I expected.

  Even though the thought of beating Baylor had gotten me out of bed, once we got into the showground, I put her and Napoleon and her mean looks out of my mind. Instead, I focused on Cupcake, keeping her calm, getting her going, then making sure we were working together. We took our turns, controlled our canters and jumped as well as we could, and we made sure we stayed out of Baylor’s way, avoiding her eye and not hanging out with the group of girls she had gathered around her. When I wasn’t in an event, I sat myself on the dust that passed for grass, in the shade next to our horse float, and read a book.

  The only time I actually looked up and around was in the middle of the day. I didn’t have much of an interest in the show itself; I’d decided to save my money and bring all my own food and drink for the day, so I didn’t want to go up and walk around the sideshow stalls or the food caravans and tempt myself into any overpriced drinks or ultra-greasy show food. The only thing I was vaguely interested in, apart from the horse events, was, well, you know …

  Jake Smith. Pinch. Ow.

  He was bugging me even more now. His name had taken up a permanent part of my main brain since the Facebook discussion, but for some reason, I could hardly say it to myself, let alone out loud. ‘That boy,’ I called him when I thought about him. And, ‘You know, that boy,’ I called him if Coco insisted I talk about him.

  I didn’t look for him. I was too embarrassed. Instead, I looked for his sister in the under twelves section. Talia Smith, on her palomino. When I heard the under twelves announced, I listened carefully to the names, but even with the screeching and the distortion of the PA, nothing sounded like a ‘Talia’. I listened twice, and then on the third event, got up and casually wandered over to the barriers in an ‘I’d like to admire the
horses’ kind of way, but there were no palominos. Even when I’d really gotten desperate and walked up and down the area where all the horses were tethered, then gone a bit further up the path, just in case Talia might have taken her palomino for a walk somewhere, I still didn’t see her.

  Or him.

  My heart sank a little bit, all on its own, without any instructions. Then I gave it a tiny slap and my leg a pinch and told my heart not to be silly and romantic and stupid. I didn’t need That Boy to be here. In fact, it was great that he wasn’t. I had a day of riding to get through. I had a goal to fulfil. I had Baylor to beat, and Cupcake to ride. And ribbons to win.

  I took a deep breath. This was why I was here. To compete. Having him around would only get in the way.

  Dad did his part well. Not as well as Mum would have, of course. I mean, he did things in a ‘dad’ sort of way, asking obvious questions and not really following along with the program.

  ‘What’s that event?’ he’d ask when there were barrels out, and the event name in the program said ‘Barrel Racing’. I tried not to do a Coco and roll my eyes, but it was hard.

  But, to be positive, he stayed at the showground, which I gave him points for. He also gave me a thumbs up every time I looked over at him, so he was generally paying attention and being encouraging, which was great. Every time I knew he was watching me, I pretended it was Mum sitting there, cheering me on, and I’d jump higher and focus harder and do everything better. Before I knew it, the day was over and they were announcing the ribbons.

  ‘The overall champion for the twelves to sixteens is Charlie Franks.’ A grizzled man in white moleskin pants and an Akubra hat announced it into his microphone and my name squeaked and crackled out over the whole showground.

  ‘Really?’ I looked around me.

  ‘Dad, did you keep track of the points?’ I mouthed the words back to where he was still sitting in the tiny bit of shade he’d followed around all day. He shrugged a little and pointed to his newspaper.

  ‘Charlie Franks?’ The announcer said my name a second time. ‘Show Jumping Champion.’

  Slightly dazed, I grabbed Cupcake’s lead rope and led her out to where the announcer was standing with the officials and a girl wearing some kind of purple sash. Miss Showgirl, it said, when I gave it a quick glance. I’d have to tell Coco. She wouldn’t ride a horse at a show, but I’d bet she’d go in a showgirl contest. I wouldn’t do it if you paid me.

  ‘Congratulations, Charlie,’ said Miss Showgirl, with a dazzling smile. She put a striped gold, purple and white ribbon over my shoulder, and adjusted her sash almost in one movement. As I said—there’s not enough money in the world to tempt me.

  ‘Well done, Charlie,’ came another voice. It was the announcer, who now had his mouth away from the microphone. He came in closer. ‘You did some really great riding today. Terrific form. Hope to see you compete in the Opens sometime.’ He shook my hand with his big, craggy one. ‘Good on you.’ At least, that’s what I think he said. It came out more like ‘G’donya.’

  ‘Thanks. Thanks a lot.’ I nodded and smiled and put my ribbon across Cupcake’s neck before I took her back out the gate to the float, but as I did, my eyes caught a sight of someone familiar. That boy. Or was it? It was a single flash of recognition. I’d seen his face, but then the face had turned away, and the person started walking back up the path towards the sideshow stalls. I gazed after him, blinking and frozen into the ground, and it wasn’t until Baylor bumped into me that I came back to life.

  ‘You’ve stopped,’ she said and I noticed the Reserve Champion ribbon she was carrying. ‘They’re waiting for us to leave the arena so they can announce the Opens.’

  ‘Congratulations,’ I said, and took a few steps forward. ‘You did really well.’

  Baylor looked at me with a weird kind of head tilt and something I didn’t understand in her eyes. ‘Congratulations? Really?’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘You did really well?’

  ‘Um, yeah.’ I gathered Cupcake’s lead rope into my hand and kept walking. ‘Good competition.’

  ‘I’ll see you at the Inter-schools day,’ said Baylor. She turned back to me. ‘If you’re doing it, that is.’ She smiled. ‘It’s not just a local show, you know. The competition is heaps harder.’

  I smiled back. My horse, Cupcake, had a Supreme Champion ribbon thrown around her neck, and the Reserve Champion ribbon didn’t match Napoleon’s tack or Baylor’s outfit. ‘I’ll be there, for sure.’

  13

  Chapter 13

  I hung up my Champion ribbon in my room. Actually, I pinned it straight on the wall so I could see it when I was dumping stuff in my room, when I was doing my homework, when I was going to sleep, and when the first light came in through my window, telling me it was time to get up for a practice ride. The mist was still hovering over the paddocks when I got out there the next morning, jodhs and boots pulled on over my pyjamas. By the time I went in for breakfast, the sun had cleared it away.

  Coco was nervous about me going back to school, what with winning and beating Baylor and everything.

  ‘You won’t be, you know … arrogant about it, will you?’ she asked me about fifty times on Sunday afternoon.

  ‘If Baylor’s that precious that she can’t handle being beaten, I can’t help it. Anyway, I don’t rub stuff in people’s faces. Don’t worry about me.’

  ‘I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about me.’

  I gave her crazy eyebrows, like ‘whaaat?’ but she didn’t laugh like she usually does.

  ‘Serious. What you do affects me, you know. They see us as kind of the same person. So if you get on Baylor’s bad side, I’ll suffer as well.’

  I let out a breath. ‘May-be, just poss-i-bly, you are making a fuss about absolutely nothing? It has been known to happen before.’ I ducked, waiting for her to throw a cushion at me, but nothing hit my head. I sat up and blinked.

  Coco’s hand wasn’t anywhere near the cushions. Instead, she was looking thoughtful. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe nothing will happen.’

  ‘Nothing will happen. I won. She didn’t. She’ll get over it. Forget about it.’

  Nothing did happen. We went to school. I smiled and pretended to be interested in girlie conversations until the year seven boys started playing soccer, then I went off, ignoring the fact that I was wearing a skirt, and scoring enough goals to make me the first pick on the team for next time. If Baylor was angry with me, I didn’t hang around long enough to notice it.

  While I was at school, I put in enough effort to show I was actually present in the class, and at least vaguely interested in most subjects (I think I mostly just looked vague in Ancient History) but as soon as the bell went and I was on the bus, school was forgotten. Horses were the only things that were important.

  On Tuesday afternoon, I was impatient with Dad when he picked us up from the bus stop and drove us down the driveway. ‘Can’t we go quicker?’

  ‘You want to go quicker down this? The car will fall apart if we do.’

  ‘And we’ll fall apart from when the car goes down the side of the cliff,’ came Coco’s voice from the back. ‘Slow, Dad. She’s just impatient.’

  ‘What’s the deal with you?’ asked Josh, with wonder in his voice. It’s true this was unusual. I’m hardly ever impatient.

  ‘The vet’s coming to give Fozzles a check-up. I need to be there.’

  Inside the house I ignored Mum’s call from her bedroom and raced into my room to throw my bag on my bed. I kicked off my school shoes and dragged on my riding boots, and was halfway out the door before I raced back to get my purple and gold ribbon off the wall, then disappeared down the paddock, running as fast as I could to Ness’s place.

  ‘Am I too late?’ I panted, ten minutes later. ‘Dad was so slow down the drive.’

  Ness made a face at me across the stables. ‘Yeah, I’m sorry. The vet was early.’

  I kicked the sand. ‘Oh, no.’

  Ness must have seen my dis
appointed shoulders because she walked over to me. ‘It’s okay, though.’ Her face was hopeful.

  I looked up. ‘Really? What did he say?’

  ‘She. It was a woman this time. She gave her a good check over, and said everything was normal.’

  ‘And the baby?’ I still felt nervous.

  ‘The foal is fine. Everything’s on track. Fozzles is young. She’s a good age for having a baby, and she’s healthy. So it’s all good. I told the vet we’d have her on call for the delivery.’

  ‘On call? Why?’

  Ness grabbed a shovel and started mucking out one of the stalls. I picked one up too. ‘It’s a “just in case” thing. In case something goes wrong. The same reason your Mum’s going to have her baby in hospital.’

  I put down my shovel. ‘What do you mean? Hospitals are the places where babies are born. It’s normal.’

  ‘Yeah, because sometimes things go wrong,’ said Ness. ‘That’s how it started. Women had babies at home for hundreds of years. That was the normal thing. But once doctors figured out ways to stop babies, and mothers, dying, because they did sometimes, it became normal to go to hospital. Just in case.’

  I swallowed hard. This was something I hadn’t really thought about. I turned away from Ness so she couldn’t see my face. ‘I’m going to go see Fozzles, okay?’

  Fozzles was out in the paddock on the side of the stable, but when I went out the door, blinking in the sunshine, I almost didn’t recognise her.

  ‘She’s huge!’ I called back to Ness. My beautiful, sleek horse had turned into a heffalump. I climbed the fence, jumped down the other side, and went over to her. She nickered and came towards me.

  ‘Fozzles.’ I gave her a hug around the neck. ‘I missed you.’

  She ruffled my hair with her breath, and I reached into my pocket. ‘I brought something for you.’ I pulled out the Champion ribbon, and hung it around her neck. ‘See?’