Buckskin Bandit

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Buckskin Bandit Page 8

by Dandi Daley Mackall


  Dad was strolling back to the booth. I waved to him to hurry up. “I’ll bet it’s okay. Let’s ask Dad.”

  Dad was so distracted he’d have agreed to having a horse show in his workshop. “It won’t be any work for you guys,” Geri promised. “My mom made a cake. And Nathan is bringing pop. And . . .” Geri ran through all the refreshments and games and a list of kids coming. Then she raced off to find Lizzy. My sister was really lucky to have so many friends.

  Dad walked off to ask Mr. Jay about water pressure. I was going over my speech when Hawk walked in with Peter Lory, her chattering lory. Every kid seemed to turn and look at her. And the guys weren’t looking at Peter, either.

  We waved and hollered hi, but her booth was at the other end of the gym.

  Kaylee came over to my booth. “All set, Winnie?”

  “I guess. How about you?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve seen four other kids with my exact same exhibit. Guess what! I got up early this morning and biked out to see Bandit. He’s doing great, Winnie. Can we do another training session later? I can’t get away until eight. Would that work?”

  “Sure. Come to my house first. We’ll go together.” I knew, with all the friends Lizzy would be having over, they’d never miss me.

  The PA system screeched. “Will the parents please move to the south end of the gym? We ask that you remain behind the yellow line while our students have their exhibits judged.”

  I got in position and saw that directly across from me was M’s booth. We exchanged wordless hellos. All he had on his table was a shiny black ball bigger than a softball.

  I raised my eyebrows at him. He twitched his nose. Then he picked up the ball and turned it upside down. I dashed across the aisle for a better look. The ball looked like Magic 8 fortune balls I’d seen when I was a kid back in Wyoming. Only instead of dumb “predictions,” like “It is decidedly so,” M’s ball carried on a conversation: “What’s your favorite kind of art?” “Which person had the biggest influence on your life?” “What’s the most important thing in your life?” “How important is God in your life?” “If you died tonight, where would go?” “How would you change the world?”

  “M!” I exclaimed. “This is awesome! How did you make the ball?”

  “Pottery wheel,” he answered.

  “What’s the green stuff the questions are floating in?” I asked.

  “Jell-O.”

  I grinned approval at M and ran back to my booth.

  Aisles grew quiet as the judges moved up and down. I could hear kids explaining their inventions to the team of three judges. Summer almost sang her speech, running her finger-combs through her hair. Catman was too far away for me to hear him, but I spotted Churchill chasing Bumby under the tables.

  When the judges came to M, the tall, sharp-nosed, redheaded woman judge eyed him up and down. The second judge, a big man with kind eyes, shook M’s ball and laughed hard. The third judge, with fair skin and hair that may have been blond once but looked white now, was quiet. In my mind, the judges became American Saddle Horse Woman, Clydesdale Man, and Palomino.

  The closer they got to me, the more I wanted to bolt from the gym. One more booth, and they’d be right in front of me.

  American Saddle Horse Woman walked up first. “And you must be—” she checked her clipboard, then flipped a page—“Winifred Willis.”

  “Winnie?” I said, like I was asking her.

  The other two judges flanked in behind her, but Saddle Horse was definitely in charge. “Please tell us about this interesting-looking invention,” she said, moving closer to inspect the shower.

  “It’s a . . . a Multiple Shower,” I said, trying to remember our official name for the thing.

  Clydesdale Man cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”

  I cleared my throat too. But of course it didn’t do me any good. “Multiple Shower?”

  “Ah,” said Palomino. “What does it do?”

  “It . . .” Every thought flew out of my head. What did it do? I tried to picture my note card, my introduction. But my stupid brain camera hadn’t bothered to take a picture of that. “Like, g-gets you really clean?” I stammered.

  “And how did you come up with this idea?” Saddle Horse asked.

  I’d planned to say something about the guy who cried “Eureka!” But I couldn’t remember the whole story. “That guy in the bathtub,” I said. “I mean, when the water splashed and he ran down the street screaming.”

  They stared at me as if I had multiple heads.

  I shot up a prayer that God would calm down my brain. Then I tried again, telling them about the junkyard and Dad being an inventor and cutting holes in the stall and everything.

  They listened. Saddle Horse Woman jotted notes on her clipboard. Then they thanked me and walked on.

  “Wait!” I shouted. “I forgot to turn it on!”

  Saddle Horse fake-smiled over her shoulder. “That’s all right, dear.”

  And I knew. In those few horrible seconds I’d wrecked the entire future of Willis and Willis Inventors.

  Dad waved at me over the heads of other parents who were straining to hear the judges. I tried to smile as I waved back. He didn’t know it was all over, but I did.

  Minutes later another screech shot from the PA system. The crowd let out one big groan. Then the voice of our principal, Mr. Russell, boomed through the gym. “Ladies and gentlemen! Places, please. We are ready to announce the winners of the Ashland Middle School Science Fair!”

  If you hadn’t met Mr. Russell, who’s thin, wiry, and about Lizzy’s height, you would have thought, by his voice, that you were listening to another Clydesdale Man. I think it’s from all those years of hollering, “Don’t run in the halls!”

  Note to self: Try hollering in the halls. Maybe it will help your voice.

  “We’ve had an excellent show today!” Mr. Russell boomed.

  Parents applauded.

  “And now I’ll turn over the mike to Ms. Brandywine, one of our judges. She will announce one winner from each grade who will represent AMS in the state competition tomorrow in Columbus.”

  I glanced at Dad, and he held up crossed fingers.

  Ms. Brandywine turned out to be American Saddle Horse Woman. “Thank you, Principal Russell. We shall begin with the eighth-grade division. The winning invention is the Conversation Ball. The inventor is . . . M? I’m sorry. That’s all I have on my card. Could someone—?”

  But applause thundered around the gym, drowning out Saddle Horse Woman. M’s parents were screaming the loudest.

  Finally, with Principal Russell’s help, we quieted down enough for them to continue. “And now we have a winner for the seventh-grade division.”

  My stomach hurt. It felt like I imagined colic must feel to a horse.

  “The winner is . . . Summer Spidell, for her finger-combs and brushes.”

  I should have known.

  Dad’s face looked like melting ice cream, his features running down to his chin. When we saw each other, his face snapped back like elastic. But it was too late. I’d already seen how disappointed he was.

  He waved, and I waved back, both of us faking a smile and a shrug.

  He would have been so proud to have a winner for a daughter. Willis and Willis Inventors. It had been nice while it lasted.

  “And finally,” Saddle Horse was saying, “in the sixth-grade division, the winner is . . . Elizabeth Willis, for the sleeping-bag tent.”

  “Lizzy! Lizzy! Lizzy!” The chant broke out all over the gym.

  Stunned, I turned to see Dad pushing through the crowd that thronged toward my sister’s booth. He was cheering louder than everybody put together. “That’s my daughter! That’s my Lizzy!”

  Catman and Barker crowded around and congratulated her.

  Hawk joined them and shook Lizzy’s hand.

  It seemed the whole world was excited for Lizzy. I tried to be too. I was. Really. Only it hadn’t meant that much to Lizzy.

  And it
had meant a lot to me.

  By the time I managed to push my way through the crowd around Lizzy, she and Dad were smiling for the cameras, which flashed like nonstop lightning.

  “My dad is the real inventor,” Lizzy said to a woman from the Ashland Times Gazette.

  “Congratulations, Lizzy!” I yelled up.

  Lizzy waved and gave me a go-figure shrug.

  “Plus,” Geri shouted to the reporter, “this is Lizzy’s birthday! She won on her birthday!”

  Dad was shaking Principal Russell’s hand.

  The principal, grinning, shouted, “I’d love to come, Willis! Thanks!”

  I hoped Dad hadn’t just invited my principal to our house. Our whole house would probably fit in Principal Russell’s basement. And he’d have to refinish it.

  Hawk slid through a crowd of teachers to get back to me. “I am really looking forward to our horse birthday party tomorrow, Winnie.”

  It was a nice thing to say. I felt like Hawk knew what was going on inside me as I watched Lizzy and Dad together. Hawk had been trying to get her dad’s attention ever since the divorce. And she hadn’t had much luck either.

  Suddenly all I wanted to do was go for a long ride on Nickers. I needed to forget about inventions, and Willis and Willis, and everything except the pounding of my horse’s hooves.

  We were allowed to go home for the day after the science fair. But Dad kept talking and talking, until almost the whole gym had emptied. As soon as the last teacher quit congratulating Dad, I moved up. “Dad, I’ll just walk home. I want to ride Nickers.”

  Dad frowned. “Not today, Winnie. Too much to do.” He leaned down and whispered, “We’re having a surprise party for Lizzy.”

  “I know,” I answered. “I’ll be back later.”

  Dad shook his head. “You’ll need the rest of the afternoon to get the house in shape, honey. I’ve invited all of Lizzy’s teachers. And your principal. And . . . I can’t remember who else. We’ll need more food. What can you make for snacks?”

  “Me?”

  “I’ll help all I can, honey. But I have to help Lizzy work out a couple of kinks in her invention before tomorrow.”

  I wanted to shout that it wasn’t fair. But he was already running over to Lizzy’s sleeping-bag tent.

  Note to self: The distance from Willis the Inventor to Willis the Slave is about 20 seconds.

  I walked home and still got there two hours before Dad and Lizzy drove up. Instead of galloping across the pasture, I’d spent my time vacuuming, dusting, scrubbing the toilet, and mopping the kitchen floor. The house still looked like a herd of Mustangs lived in it.

  Lizzy and Dad strolled through the front door, laughing. Neither of them said a word about all the work I’d done in the house. They headed for Dad’s workshop. The workshop door shut, and I went back to Lizzy’s chores.

  Note to self: Just call me Winnie-ella.

  Geri was the first to show up for the party, followed by her mom, who was carrying a giant birthday cake. They brought sandwiches too, which was a good thing, because my applesauce muffins looked more like horse-apple muffins.

  Madeline came early too. She’d left Mason, her better half, at home with a babysitter. She carried in two grocery bags of pop and potato chips.

  By six o’clock our house was so full of people that we had to leave the doors open. Hawk came over and helped me pass out food, pick up dishes, and clean up spills. Conversations buzzed around me, most of them about my sister. Dad didn’t leave Lizzy’s side the whole time.

  At exactly eight Kaylee fought her way inside. “Winnie, are you ready?”

  I’d almost forgotten about Bandit’s lesson. “We better make a quick getaway,” I whispered, setting down my tray of muffins.

  I’d almost made it to the door when Dad shouted across the room, “Winnie! Better bring out a pitcher of water!”

  “Wait here,” I whispered to Kaylee.

  But three water pitchers and a bag of Oreos later, I wasn’t any closer to freedom. I’d have to level with Dad.

  He was talking with a broad, black-haired woman, who reminded me of a Morgan horse. I had to tap on Dad’s arm to make him see me. “Dad, Kaylee’s here. We’re going to Happy Trails to check on Bandit.”

  “Not tonight, honey.” He turned back to Morgan Woman.

  “Dad? We won’t be long. Just leave everything. I’ll clean up when I get back.”

  Dad leaned down and gave me eye contact this time. “Winnie, Lizzy needs you tonight.”

  There were a hundred answers that came to my mind. All of them would have gotten me in trouble.

  I stormed back to Kaylee, bumping as many guests as I could on the way.

  “I can’t go. I’m sorry, Kaylee.” I glared back at Dad, but he was laughing with Lizzy and Morgan Woman.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Kaylee said. “I’ll just run out there and say good night to Bandit.”

  “Well, be careful. And tomorrow, right after the horse birthday party, we can give Bandit a long lesson.”

  I watched Kaylee go and wished more than anything that I could escape with her. Instead, I grabbed a tray of ugly muffins and hit the living room.

  Principal Russell reached for a muffin as I walked by. He frowned at it, then put it back. “You must be pretty happy for your little sister. Quite an honor to go to State. Are you excited about going to Columbus tomorrow?”

  “I’m sure Lizzy will do great,” I said. And I was sure. Lizzy would probably come home with first prize. “I’m not going to Columbus, though.”

  “What?” Dad turned around, breaking off his conversation with Lizzy’s teacher and Madeline. “Of course you’re going, Winnie! Lizzy needs our support.”

  “Dad, did you forget what tomorrow is?” I hated arguing in front of the principal. “Hawk and Sal and everybody are coming over in the morning with their horses. For a party. Remember?”

  “That’s right,” Dad said. “I forgot. We’ll just have to make it for another day, honey. Okay? I can’t have a party here if I’m not home to supervise. We’ll do it right—maybe next Saturday?”

  I could feel my blood ready to overflow in hot, red lava. “Dad, it’s all planned.”

  Hawk walked up without a sound.

  “You can plan it for another day,” Dad insisted. “Right, Hawk?”

  “But that’s not fair!” I said it loud enough that heads turned. “You don’t even need me in Columbus.”

  “That may be true, Winnie,” Dad answered.

  It wasn’t the answer I wanted. I wanted him to protest, to say, “Are you kidding, Winnie? Lizzy and I both need you!”

  But Dad didn’t say that. He pretended to smile, even though he had to know he wasn’t fooling any of the people trying not to witness our family. “This discussion is over. There will be no party here while I am out of town.”

  “But—”

  “Winnie, will you please go make more coffee?” Dad said it through his teeth. Translated, it meant, Winnie, don’t you dare pull a temper tantrum on me in front of all these people.

  “Come on, Winnie.” Hawk took my arm and led me away. “I’ll call everybody. We can do the party next week. Or the week after that?”

  But I wasn’t listening. Blood was rushing through my ears. I had a lot more to say to my dad. And I didn’t care who heard me.

  “Dad? Could you come here a minute?” Lizzy called from the workshop.

  Dad sprung up from the couch. “Coming, Lizzy!”

  And just like that, he was gone.

  Note to self: “Unfair” equals one sister who gets the good hair, the good height, the winning invention, the birthday party . . . and our dad.

  Lizzy and Dad went to bed as soon as the guests left. I was finishing washing dishes when the phone rang.

  Kaylee started talking the second I said hello. “I’m sorry to bother you so late, Winnie. But I can’t stand it. I don’t know what to do!”

  “Kaylee, what’s the matter?”

 
“It’s Bandit! Oh, Winnie, they’re going to get rid of him!”

  Kaylee was so upset that it took a few minutes before I could understand her over the phone. She’d taken the back route to Happy Trails, just like we’d done all week. Then she’d hung out with Bandit awhile. She was ready to leave when she heard voices. So she hid behind the bank of hedge-apple trees. That’s when she’d heard Leonard talking to another man about getting rid of the buckskin.

  Over the phone, Kaylee let out a sigh that came through my receiver like a galloping wind. “Oh, Winnie, you should have heard them. The other man, Reggie, told Leonard the animal-protection investigator would be coming out tomorrow afternoon. And Leonard said, ‘Then we better get rid of that buckskin tomorrow morning!’ Winnie, what does he mean ‘get rid of’? What are they going to do to Bandit?”

  The kitchen was still, silent, except for the clock ticking. I wanted to run to the pasture right then and rescue Bandit. But I couldn’t do anything, not tonight. “They’re not going to do anything, Kaylee. I’ll be at your house at dawn. We won’t let them do anything to Buckskin Bandit.”

  Dad and Lizzy would have to go to Columbus without me. They probably wouldn’t even notice the difference.

  I might have dozed off for a couple of hours. But I got up while it was still pitch-black outside. Nickers whinnied to me as I hurried to the barn under a fading moon. Stars spread across the black sky in odd-shaped groups, like herds banding together.

  The minute I stepped into the barn, I remembered it was my birthday. I was 13.

  Note to self (since nobody else will): Happy Birthday to me. Right.

  Buddy and Nickers crowded into the stall and waited for their morning oats. Annie stamped her hoof until I fed her. After a minute, Towaco joined us in the barn, and I quickly brushed the three horses, leaving the stalls for later. I wanted to be gone before Lizzy and Dad found out I was missing.

  I’d left them a note on the kitchen table, where Lizzy always leaves us notes:

  Good luck, Lizzy. I’m sure you’ll come home with a trophy. Sorry I can’t come with you. I have urgent horse business here. Dad, please don’t be mad. Kaylee really needs me this morning, and you guys really don’t. I’ll be fine here. —Love, Winnie

 

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