Schooling Horse

by Bonnie Bryant

  “So why don’t you ride another horse for a week or so?” Max suggested. “You and Prancer can both have a rest from each other, and you’ll learn some different things by riding a different horse.”

  Lisa thought about his suggestion. In a way it made her feel better, but in a way it made her feel worse. “Wouldn’t I be giving up on Prancer?” she asked.

  “Of course not,” Max said. “It would just be a little vacation, and you could ride her again whenever you wanted to. I’d like to say you could ride Derby, but you know Mrs. Bradley’s planning to take him in a show next month.”

  “Yes.” Lisa sighed. She’d ridden Derby over the summer and liked him quite a lot. Mrs. Bradley was an older woman who’d recently started riding at the barn.

  “It’s her first show, and she’s nervous about it,” Max explained. “She’s been riding Derby every day. I’d like her to be able to keep doing that. But you could take Topside, if you want.”

  “He’s a lot of fun, Lisa,” Stevie said. Topside was Stevie’s old favorite.

  “Maybe,” Lisa said. “Can I let you know tomorrow?”

  “Of course,” Max said. “And don’t let yourself get too discouraged. Bright times are ahead.”

  MAX CAN SAY what he wants, Lisa thought as she quietly let herself into her house. I still feel lousy.

  “Of course, Max,” Lisa heard her mother say. “I don’t want her finding out until everything is settled.” Lisa’s ears pricked up. She set her backpack on the floor very quietly and crept down the hall. Why was her mother talking to Max? Lisa peeked into the kitchen.

  Her mother was on the phone. “The most important thing is that it suits Lisa,” Mrs. Atwood said firmly. “I really don’t want to make a mistake about this. Thank you, Max, I knew you’d understand.” She hung up.

  “Hi, Mom,” Lisa said, walking into the room. “Who were you talking to?”

  Mrs. Atwood spun around. “Oh … nobody,” she said. “Nobody important. How was your day?”

  “Nobody important” was named Max. Lisa went up to her room, wondering what her mother was keeping secret, and why.

  “AUJOURD’HUI,” CAROLE said. “That is a word. Can you believe it? I can’t believe it. I certainly can’t pronounce it.”

  “It sounded fine to us,” Stevie said. The Saddle Club was having a three-way phone conversation after dinner that evening. The phones at Stevie’s house had all the latest gadgets, and she usually called her friends every night.

  “Well, it’s not.” Carole sounded ready to spit. “I’ve heard the way it’s supposed to be pronounced, and trust me, I’m not even close. The middle is supposed to kind of slurp, like you’re swallowing it up, only you roll the r, and the end is supposed to be almost a whistle.”

  “See,” Lisa said, “you know exactly what you’re supposed to be doing. You must be paying close attention.”

  “It’s no help to know what I’m supposed to be doing if I can’t do it,” Carole said. “I can’t roll my rs or make that little slurp. I tried it so much tonight my dad thought I had indigestion.”

  “They shouldn’t have hard words like that in introductory French,” Stevie said. “It’s not fair.”

  “It means ‘today,’ ” Carole said. “That’s all it means.”

  “Oh,” said Stevie.

  “I’ve got a whole dialogue to learn, and I can’t pronounce any of it. Listen to this.” Carole read several lines into the phone.

  “Sounds like French to me,” Stevie said.

  “It wouldn’t if you knew anything about French,” Carole said.

  “Which we don’t,” Lisa reminded her. “We’re sorry, Carole, but we don’t know what sounds correct and what doesn’t. That’s probably not something we can help you with.”

  “I know,” Carole said. “I’m sorry, too; I don’t mean to be rude. But I don’t know what to do. My dad learned two languages in the Marine Corps, and do you know what they are? Vietnamese and Mandarin! What use is that? And my mom was actually a French major in college. It seems so unfair.” Carole’s mother had died several years before. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do!” Carole’s voice rose to a tone of despair.

  “I know it must be really unpleasant for you to get an F,” Stevie said, “and I understand how awful it would be to get up in front of your class and do poorly. But I think you’re letting yourself get a little too upset. It’s just one part of one class.”

  “Except that it’s a very important part,” Carole replied. “My teacher says we have to be able to speak French at level one in order to go on to level two next year. He says if we fail the oral part of the class, we fail the whole class.”

  “Oh no,” Lisa said. “You don’t want to fail.”

  “I can’t fail,” Carole said. “Think about it! What would Max do?”

  For a moment there was complete silence on all three ends of the phone. “Wow,” Stevie whispered at last. “I never thought of that.”

  “Max’s academic policy,” Lisa said.

  “That’s right,” Carole said.

  Max took a very strict line with his young riders at Pine Hollow. Schoolwork always had to come before riding. Anyone who got less than a C in any subject wasn’t allowed to ride at the barn until the grade had improved.

  “He wouldn’t kick you out of the barn,” Lisa said. “Not you, Carole. He couldn’t.”

  “He’d have to,” Carole said. “Max always follows his own rules. I’d have to move Starlight to another stable.… I wouldn’t be able to ride with you guys.… I couldn’t belong to Horse Wise.…” Her voice trailed off in misery.

  “We’ll never let that happen,” Stevie promised.

  “Never,” Lisa said. She couldn’t imagine Pine Hollow without Carole. “There’s got to be something we can do to help.”

  “Maybe you could figure out a way to relate French to horses,” Stevie suggested. “You never have any problem learning anything about horses.” Carole knew more obscure horse facts than anyone else Stevie’d ever met.

  “Horses don’t speak French,” Carole said.

  “Or English,” Lisa added. Max reminded them of that every time he caught them chatting to their mounts.

  “But they have a language,” Stevie protested. “The way they move their ears and snort and stuff.”

  “True, but hardly useful,” Carole said. “I’ve learned to communicate with Starlight just fine, and it didn’t require that I learn to whinny. Good thing, too. I probably couldn’t pronounce that right, either.”

  “You know,” said Lisa, who had been thinking seriously about Carole’s problem while Stevie blathered on about horses, “maybe you should use a tape recorder. In Spanish class, we always listen to a tape of the dialogues we have to say. Do you do that?”

  “Sure,” said Carole. “That’s how we know how they’re supposed to sound.”

  “Maybe you could make yourself a copy of the class tapes,” Lisa said. “Then you could bring it home and listen to it over and over. And you could tape yourself saying the dialogues and find out exactly what you’re doing wrong. It would be a lot of work—”

  “But it really might help,” Carole said with a burst of enthusiasm. “Thank you, Lisa. That’s a great idea. I’m sure Mr. Norris would let me copy the tapes.”

  “And have confidence in yourself,” Stevie advised. “You know you can do anything you set your mind to.”

  “I thought I could,” Carole said. “After today I’m beginning to doubt it.”

  “Keep trying,” Stevie said. “Whenever you get discouraged, call us.”

  “Thanks,” Carole said. “I really appreciate it.”

  Lisa twirled the phone cord in her fingers. “I’ve got to tell you about something I overheard this afternoon,” she said. “I don’t have any idea what it means, but I’m dying to figure it out.” She related what she’d heard her mother say.

  “She really said ‘Max’?” Stevie asked. “Are you sure she was talking to Max?”
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br />   “I guess I don’t know for sure that she was talking to our Max,” Lisa admitted. “But she definitely said ‘Max.’ If she weren’t talking to our Max, why wouldn’t she have answered when I asked her who it was? Why wouldn’t she have just said, ‘Oh, I was talking to Max the furniture repairman about getting that sofa leg fixed’? I’m pretty sure my mom and Max have some kind of secret between them.”

  “Cool,” said Stevie. “Whatever it is, it can’t be bad.”

  “I don’t think so, either,” Lisa admitted. “If Max or my mother were upset with me, I’d know about it. So it must be something good. And it’s something my mom wants to be sure is exactly right—exactly right for me.”

  “A horse,” Carole said. “They’re getting you a horse! Max has found one, but they want to be sure it’s right for you.”

  “That’s the only thing I could think of,” Lisa confessed. She felt so excited that she laughed out loud. “You know, I’ve really been wanting my own horse lately—I think I’m ready for one now—and when I heard Mom say that, I thought horse right away. But I was worried that I only thought it because I wanted it so badly.”

  “No, it makes perfect sense,” Stevie said. “Wow! Wouldn’t that be cool?”

  “It would be wonderful,” Carole said. “Lisa, we’re so happy for you.”

  “That’ll put an end to your problems with Prancer,” Stevie said.

  “Oh.” In her excitement, Lisa had already dismissed their difficult lesson from her mind. “I love Prancer, even when she’s driving me crazy. But I can’t wait to see this horse Max has found for me. Just think—I’ll be able to have the kind of relationship you guys have with your horses.”

  “It’ll be entirely yours,” Carole said. “You’ll be able to teach it everything.”

  Lisa sighed in delight. “I wonder what color it will be. Since Belle and Starlight are both bays—”

  “Gray,” Stevie cut in.

  “You think gray? I know color’s not that important, but wouldn’t it be fun if we all matched?”

  “I’m not suggesting you look for a gray horse,” Stevie said. “I’m saying, maybe it is a gray horse. Maybe we’ve already seen it. Maybe it’s that horse that came to the stable today.”

  “Au Lait,” Lisa said, remembering. “Gosh. I think he was a Thoroughbred. Do you think he could be the one?”

  “It makes sense,” Stevie argued. “Why else would Max have said he was at the stable on trial? Your parents want to see if he’ll work out before they buy him.”

  “And why else would Max have said you should take a break from Prancer?” Carole added. “He’s never said that before.”

  Lisa remembered how elegant Au Lait had looked, stepping off the trailer and looking around Pine Hollow with a fine, aristocratic eye. He was a sensitive horse, like Prancer—she remembered how he’d flinched away from Max’s outstretched hand. But Lisa was used to riding sensitive horses. She would do well with him.

  A great bubble of delight welled up inside Lisa’s chest. Stevie and Carole were right. It made perfect sense that the new horse was there for her to try. Her parents must not want her to know until the decision was final—they wouldn’t want to disappoint her if the horse didn’t work out. But Lisa knew he would. He was beautiful, and she would love him.

  “My own horse,” she said. “Au Lait.” She loved the sound of the words. My own horse, she repeated to herself. Mine.

  “Please, can’t you call him something else?” Carole pleaded. “I’d like Pine Hollow to be one place where I could forget about my French class.”

  “How about Milky?” Stevie suggested. “Max said that’s what his name means.”

  “For now that would be okay,” Lisa said. “But later I’m going to think of a better name.”

  “Milky Way,” said Stevie.

  “Maybe,” Lisa said. “I don’t think I want my horse named after a candy bar. I’ll think of something good, but it will probably take me a little while.”

  “Remember how long it took Stevie to name Belle?” Carole said.

  “Remember all the weird names I considered?” Stevie laughed. “I’m still grateful I didn’t go with Tabriz.”

  “So are we,” Carole assured her.

  WHEN LISA HUNG up the phone she did a little dance of happiness around the room. Her own horse! She pictured herself at next summer’s Briarwood Horse Show, riding her fine gray gelding over jump after jump, elegant, in perfect form. She’d give Carole and Starlight a run for their money.

  How wonderful that her parents understood. They must have realized that this was the right time for her to own a horse. They must have been paying attention all along.

  Lisa hugged herself, then did a pirouette on the soft carpet. Her own horse! Her own horse to train and love forever—just like Stevie and Carole! She tried to recall everything she could about Milky—how he’d moved when he stepped off the trailer, how he’d looked around, inspecting his new home. He would like Pine Hollow, Lisa knew. He’d love her the way Starlight loved Carole, the way Belle loved Stevie. She’d ride him every day.

  Lisa tried to do her homework but found it impossible to concentrate on any subject but Milky. Even when she finally went to sleep, she saw herself riding a gray horse in her dreams.

  AFTER SCHOOL THE next day, Lisa set out for Pine Hollow with a light heart. Even the gloomy November weather couldn’t dampen her spirits. She had a horse. No, she corrected herself, she was going to have a horse. Soon she would have a horse. She had spent half the school day trying to think of a new name for Au Lait—Milky—and half drawing pictures of him in the margins of her notebooks.

  “Hey, Carole,” she’d said, catching up to her friend when the last bell for the day had finally rung, “what do you think of Snowdrop?”

  Carole had known immediately what Lisa meant. She’d wrinkled her nose. “Good for a pony,” she’d said. “But your boy is a little too grown up for a name like that.”

  “True.” Lisa smiled to think of Milky as a grown-up horse. My boy, she thought. She liked the sound of that. “You’re coming to Pine Hollow today, aren’t you?” she asked.

  Carole made a face. “As soon as I can,” she said. “I’ve got to go make copies of those French tapes now. My teacher did think it was a good idea.”

  “Great,” Lisa said. “Later, if you want, I can help you tape yourself. Or listen to them with you, or whatever else I can do.”

  “Thanks.” Carole looked at Lisa’s happy face and smiled. “I bet you can’t wait to see that horse.”

  “I can’t,” Lisa admitted. “I’ve been thinking about him all day, but you know, I didn’t pay him much attention yesterday. I can’t really remember if he had any markings or anything.”

  “You’ll make up for that today,” Carole had said.

  “That’s for sure,” Lisa had said. “I’ll see you at the barn—I know I’ll still be there when you arrive.”

  Now Lisa shoved her backpack higher onto her shoulder and walked a little faster. It was a quick walk between school and Pine Hollow—especially quick if you were eager to see a particular horse. Lisa wondered what Max would be doing with Milky. She hoped he would let her ride him right away.

  Lisa walked up the drive. She could see Max teaching a class of younger riders, whose school let out earlier than the junior high. Lisa thought she saw a tall gray horse among those being used for the lesson. She hurried forward, hoping it was Milky—and saw little Jessica Adler lying in a heap on the ground. Max was kneeling in the dirt beside her, patting her shoulder while she sobbed. A gray horse—it was Milky, Lisa realized with dismay—galloped past the other kids with his saddle empty, reins and stirrups flying.

  Lisa ran the last few steps to the arena fence. Red, Pine Hollow’s head stable hand, was standing by the gate. “What happened?” Lisa asked. “Is Jessica okay?”

  Red nodded. “She’s mad and she’s scared,” he said. “She isn’t hurt.”

  Lisa drew a deep breath. “Good.
Did she do something to Milky, or did Milky do something to her?” All riders occasionally fell off. Sometimes it was the horse’s fault, sometimes it was the rider’s fault, and sometimes it just happened.

  “Milky?” Red said. “You mean that Au Lait?” He pronounced it Ow Late. Lisa smiled and nodded. Carole wasn’t the only person at the stable who couldn’t speak French.

  “Hard to tell,” Red said. “The horse was acting up a bit. He seemed okay earlier, though, when I rode him.”

  “You rode him? What was he like?” Lisa watched Max help Jessica to her feet. He bent his head low and spoke soothingly to the little girl.

  “Fine,” Red said. “Real well trained, knows everything you want him to know. Max tried him, too, and seemed to like him.”

  “Oh, good.” Lisa sighed with relief. Probably Jessica had just lost her balance.

  “He kept refusing in front of the fences for Jessica, though,” Red continued with a shake of his head. “I don’t understand it, because it sure wasn’t how he acted before.”

  “He’s probably not used to our jumps yet,” Lisa said. “And he might not be used to sharing the ring with other horses, particularly unfamiliar horses. He’s probably nervous.” Poor Milky, she thought. He needs to be ridden by someone who understands.

  “Red,” Max called from the center of the ring, “can you help Jessica saddle Penny fast? She’s going to finish the lesson with her. I want her to have a chance at these fences again so she can get her confidence back.” Penny was a trustworthy old pony. Lisa thought she was much more Jessica’s style than a Thoroughbred like Milky.

  “Right on it,” Red said. “Come on, Jessica.”

  Max was holding Milky by the reins in the center of the ring. “You’re next, May,” he called to one of the other kids in the lesson.

  “Should I take Milky inside for you, Max?” Lisa volunteered. “I can untack him and put him away.” A good grooming and lots of carrots, she thought. That would make Milky feel better.

  Max looked confused. “Milky?”

  “The horse,” Lisa said, pointing.