Pony Jumpers 1- First Fence

by Kate Lattey

  On any other day, I’d have been grateful for the offer, but her words sent a chill through me, and I shook my head.

  “No, it’s fine. He should go back to his own paddock.”

  Katy and Deb shared a confused look.

  “Why?” Katy demanded.

  “Because. I’m still paying grazing there so I might as well use it, and if I don’t then they might tell me I can’t come back, and I can’t risk losing Squib’s grazing.”

  Katy shrugged. “Sure you can. I was going to say you should move him to ours anyway. It’s way more fun riding when you’re there, and Squib loves it at our place. Plus once Fossick’s sold, we’ll have space for another one. Keep helping me with the ponies and we won’t even charge you for grazing, right Mum?”

  Deb nodded, and my heart sank. Only a couple of hours ago, I’d have been doing a happy dance at the offer, but that was the last thing I wanted now. Now that I knew Katy was trying to get her mitts on Squib. He’s my pony, I wanted to tell her. Not yours. Just because you’re a better rider than me doesn’t mean you can take my pony away.

  “No thanks,” I’d said. “I’d really rather just have him go back to the Pony Club, if that’s okay.”

  Katy started to argue again, but Deb cut her off.

  “It’s fine. Whatever you like. Just lie back and rest, we’ll have you and Squib home in no time.”

  The house was quiet when I got home that night. Only Dad’s car was parked outside, and I remembered belatedly that my brothers both had away games today, and Mum was probably working late again. The light was on in Dad’s workshop across the lawn, and I thought of going over there to see him, but decided against it. I didn’t feel much like talking right now.

  My stomach rumbled, and I dropped my bags in the hallway and went through to the kitchen. Alexia was at the dining table working on a jigsaw puzzle, another one of her favourite pursuits. She was really fast at them, and they were one of the few things in the world that didn’t seem to drive her mad with frustration. I pulled the fridge open and perused the contents as she methodically pieced together a wide expanse of blue sky.

  “It’s in the blue bowl.”

  I looked over my shoulder at my sister, who was still not looking at me.

  “What is?”

  She ignored me, but I located a blue bowl on the second shelf and looked inside. Chicken stir-fry, yum. Gratefully I scraped out a decent sized helping onto a plate and stuck it in the microwave. As it whirred around, I leaned my elbows on the table and watched Alexia.

  “Need any help?”

  She knew I was teasing, and the hint of a smile crossed the corners of her mouth. “No.”

  “Sure? I’m really good at jigsaw puzzles.”

  “No way!” she said adamantly, but she wasn’t angry. She was actually in one of her better moods tonight, and I reached over and picked up a green piece and held it over the blue sky she was patching together.

  “I think this one probably goes here.”

  “You’re such an egg,” she told me, but she was smiling properly now.

  Every now and then I would catch glimpses of the big sister I might have had, if things had been different. I didn’t blame Alexia for anything, of course, but for years it had been my biggest daydream, that she was the perfect big sister who defended me from our teasing big brothers, and who loved horses and would ride with me every day. But I’d given up on that fantasy a while ago, and after seeing the way that Hayley had treated her younger sister today, I wasn’t sure I wanted Alexia to be any other way. My perfect daydream big sister would be great, but in reality she might have been a total bitch. I looked at Alexia’s long blonde hair and perfectly-formed features. Anders wasn’t the best-looking person in our family, but Alexia was utterly oblivious to how beautiful she was. I wondered what she’d be like if she knew.

  The microwave beeped, jolting me back to reality, and I gave my dinner a quick stir before putting it on for another minute.

  “Hey Lex, check this out.”

  I pulled Squib’s blue ribbon out of my pocket and held it out to her. Her eyes lit up for a moment, and she reached forward to take it from me, hesitating slightly as her fingers made contact.

  “Can I see?”

  She was really asking this time, and I nodded, realising how much of an effort it was for her to say the right thing.

  “Sure.”

  Alexia smoothed it out across the table, reading the words carefully. “You came second.”

  “Yep. Out of forty-three ponies. Pretty good, right?”

  She thought for a moment, then nodded. “That’s really good.”

  “Thanks.”

  She handed the ribbon back to me as my dinner beeped again. “I liked the other one better.”

  “Did you?” I laid the blue ribbon on the table before turning back to the microwave. “I didn’t.” The second place ribbon that I earned was infinitely more important to me than the one Katy had taken for granted.

  “Well you should.” Alexia picked up another piece of her puzzle and examined it closely. “Red’s a better colour than blue.”

  I chuckled. “I’ll try and get more red ones in the future.”

  She nodded. “Good idea.”

  I put my bowl of stir-fry on the table and started tucking into it, reluctantly letting my thoughts flicker back across the day. I tried hard to focus on the good parts, but the memory of Katy’s words lingered like a bad taste, spoiling my success. I looked at the blue ribbon disconsolately. If only we could’ve finished on that note. I would be on such a high right now, instead of this depressing low.

  I sighed, and Alexia glanced at me, her forehead creasing into a frown. She generally struggled to read other people’s emotions, but even she could tell that I was unhappy. Her hand hovered over the puzzle, still holding the pale blue piece, then she smiled and pressed it into the middle of the grass at the bottom of the landscape scene, forcing it to fit.

  I knew she’d done it to try and cheer me up. I nodded at her, making a circle with my index finger and thumb and holding it up towards her.

  “Perfect. Now you’re getting the hang of this,” I said approvingly.

  Alexia looked up and met my eyes for a fraction of a second, then looked down again, a smile crossing her face as I shoved a forkload of noodles into my mouth and watched her, letting everything else fade into the background.

  * * *

  Nothing was the same without Katy. Our next Pony Club rally came and went, and I’d been looking forward to showing Donna how much Squib had improved. But she’d made us spend the whole rally doing flatwork without stirrups, which was still a challenge on my pony, and although I managed not to fall off, she wasn’t exactly driven to shower me with praise afterwards. At least Katy hadn’t been there, but then I’d known she wouldn’t be. She was miles away at Te Teko, skipping school and competing all weekend.

  I hadn’t been able to help myself from scrolling through the results online on Sunday night, and when I’d seen that she won the Grand Prix on Lucas, I wasn’t sure whether I was happy for her or annoyed that she was doing so well. I didn’t know how I felt about her anymore. We’d had so much fun together, and she’d been one of the best friends I’d ever had. I had plenty of friends at school, but none of them were into horses, and they all got bored whenever I tried to tell them about Squib. Now, every time he did anything cute or funny or exceptional, I had nobody to share it with. When he jumped all the biggest jumps on our cross country course without blinking, or when he cantered a full circle on the bit without trying to pull me out of the saddle, there was nobody to high-five me and really understand what an achievement it was.

  Nobody who understood, anyway. Dad would listen for hours, patiently letting my words flow in one ear and out the other, trying his best to make time for me. It wasn’t the same though, knowing he didn’t really get what I was talking about. Not like Katy and Deb would have. I hated that I missed them so much, but I didn’t know what to d
o about it.

  “You’re friends with Katy O’Reilly, aren’t you?”

  I looked up from oiling Squib’s bridle, the sticky rag still in my hand. Sandra stood over me as Carrie fussed around Oscar, brushing his tail with a mane comb and telling her sister that the mud on his legs was stuck there and there wasn’t any point trying to get it off until it rained.

  “I know her,” I said noncommittally, not wanting to get into it with Sandra, who had an opinion on everyone and everything. It was none of her business anyway, but she kept prattling on.

  “She has a pony for sale, and we’re considering him for Alyssa. Rebel isn’t working out at all. They said he was quiet when we bought him, but he’s far too nervous for her and it’s destroying her confidence.”

  As if she had any confidence to destroy. Alyssa would be the happiest kid in New Zealand if you told her she never had to ride again, but Sandra had committed herself to a horsy life and Alyssa’s feelings no longer counted. I ran the oily rag across Squib’s reins, watching the dull leather start to shine.

  “Which pony?” I asked, thinking of Fossick’s ad and wondering how Sandra had possibly read between the lines of that to think that she’d be in any way a suitable replacement for Rebel.

  “Christopher Robin. He’s a bit bigger than we wanted, full fourteen two, but she’d grow into him and they swear he’s quiet as a lamb.”

  I thought for a moment. Robin didn’t have a naughty bone in his body, and he’d be exactly the kind of pony that Alyssa needed. But despite his ponderous outlook on life, he liked getting out and doing things. He was quickly proving his talent in show hunter classes, and I knew that he would be wasted on Alyssa. And as much as I liked little Carrie, I wouldn’t wish Sandra on any pony. She never seemed to understand that ponies were animals with personalities and agendas of their own, not machines that performed exactly the same way every time you rode them.

  Besides, as thrilled as Squib would be about it, the last thing I wanted was for Robin to come and graze here. What if Sandra asked Katy to come down and school him, or to give Alyssa lessons? Then she’d be turning up here, hanging around and casting her eyes over Squib, measuring him up against how well he’d be going for her if she owned him. No matter how hard I worked, without her and Deb’s help, I knew I’d never measure up to his potential.

  “Nah,” I told Sandra. “He’s not really suitable.”

  I was finishing my Geography assignment when Dad came into my room and sat on my bed, his hands on his knees. I knew that look. It meant he wanted to talk, and I wasn’t going to be able to get rid of him until we’d had some kind of heart-to-heart. I rolled my chair back across the carpet and resigned myself to a conversation.

  “What’s up?”

  “I was wondering how you’re getting on with your pony.”

  No you weren’t. “Good.”

  “Anything you want to talk about?”

  He always started conversations this way. Giving me the chance to bring my troubles up by myself, before he did it for me. “Nope.”

  “Sure?”

  “Yep. I need to finish this, Dad. It’s due tomorrow,” I told him, turning back towards my laptop, but I wasn’t getting off that easy.

  “What happened between you and Katy?”

  I rolled my eyes. When beating around the bush failed, Dad just went straight in for the kill.

  “Nothing.”

  “Come on, Possum. I know you’re not telling me something. You two were inseparable for a while there, and suddenly you won’t even talk about her.”

  I took a breath, collecting my thoughts. “Dad, if I told you that Squib was worth twenty five thousand dollars, would you want me to sell him?”

  Dad’s eyebrows shot up into his thick mop of sandy hair. “I take it this is a hypothetical scenario.”

  “Maybe. It doesn’t matter. Just answer the question.”

  He thought for a moment, giving it due consideration. “Well, that would depend.”

  “On what?” I waited for the answer I was expecting. On how badly we needed the money. On how well you could ride him. On what we needed for Alexia.

  “On whether or not you wanted to.”

  I felt tears gathering behind my eyes. I shook my head. “And if I didn’t want to?”

  “Then no, of course not. We bought you a pony to ride, not to sell.”

  “Even if I’m not very good at riding him, and if he’d be more successful with someone else?”

  He was getting the picture now. “Did Katy tell you to sell him?”

  I shook my head. “No.” Giving up on my privacy, I told him the whole story, and he listened thoughtfully.

  “Is that all?”

  “What d’you mean? Isn’t that enough?”

  “Did Katy ever offer you money for Squib, or try to convince you to sell him?”

  I thought about those first words she’d asked me at school, before we’d become friends, and the time that she’d made me write a For Sale ad for my pony.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s a shame.” Dad stood up and squeezed my shoulder. “You two seemed to get along so well, but I’m happy to see that your loyalty lies with your pony. When we bought him for you, we hoped that you would prove that you were responsible enough to look after him, and if you’ve more than exceeded our expectations. I’m proud of you, AJ.”

  I blinked up at him. He so rarely used my name that it sounded odd coming from him.

  “Thanks Dad.”

  “And tell Squib to keep up the good work,” he added, tapping the blue ribbon on my wall that Squib had won at Feilding.

  I smiled weakly at him, and once he’d left the room, I dropped my head into my hands, wondering when I’d ever get Squib to a show again.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  It was a bit remiss of me, but it wasn’t until another week had passed and a huge rainstorm was predicted that I realised I couldn’t find Squib’s waterproof cover. I’d searched the tack shed at the paddock and turned the garage upside down before I remembered taking it to Katy’s over the holidays. I could picture it perfectly, hanging from one of the rug hooks in her neatly-organised tack room, and my heart sank. If it had been anything else, something Squib didn’t really need or something that belonged to me instead of him, I’d have just left it there. But I couldn’t make Squib stand out in the pouring rain over the next few days just because I was too proud to go and ask for it back.

  There was only one thing for it, and no time to lose. The clouds were looming on the horizon, and a light drizzle had already started. I walked down the hall and rapped on Anders’ bedroom door, then tentatively nudged it open with my toe.

  “You in there?”

  He was sitting on his bed surrounded by textbooks, and he looked up when I came in.

  “A distraction. Exactly what I needed.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’m kinda busy here, Poss.”

  “I need a ride to Katy’s.”

  Anders gave me a querying look. “And?”

  “And you have a car.”

  “Yes.”

  I wasn’t in the mood for his games. “So will you please drive me over there?”

  My brother looked strangely pleased. “I take it you two are talking to each other again at last. About time.” He snapped his textbook shut and chucked it on the bed next to him as I picked at the edge of the rugby poster on his wall.

  “Not exactly.”

  Anders narrowed his eyes at me. “So the moping is going to continue?”

  “I’m not moping.”

  “Uh, yeah you are. You’ve been walking around this house like a sad sack for the last three weeks and it’s driving us all up the wall. I figured you two’d had some kind of teenage girl falling out, but I thought it would’ve blown over by now.”

  “It was a little more than that,” I said defensively.

  “Wanna talk about it?” What was it with everyone in my family wanting to talk things over?

  “Nope. W
anna give me a ride to Katy’s to get Squib’s cover so that he doesn’t drown when this rainstorm turns up?”

  As I spoke, the rain on the roof starting coming down more heavily. Anders looked out the window with a grimace, then swung his long legs onto the floor and stood up, stretching.

  “At your service, as always.”

  “Thanks bro.”

  “You owe me,” he insisted as we walked out of the front door.

  “Name your price.”

  “Hmm. I’ll think about it and let you know.”

  He unlocked the driver’s door of his battered old car, and leaned across the front seat to open mine. I shook the raindrops from my hair as I climbed in, settling into the worn out seat and shoving the miscellaneous sports gear and rubbish around with my feet.

  “I could clean your car for you.”

  “Nah,” he said as he started the engine. “This favour is gonna be worth way more than that.”

  The rain eased off slightly as we drove out towards Katy’s house, and I crossed my fingers that it wouldn’t get too heavy before I could put Squib’s cover on him. I hoped it was still where I’d left it, and that Katy hadn’t thrown it away or anything. It was so scruffy that she would never mistake it for one of hers, but it was the only one Squib had and he’d be miserable without it.

  “It’s just up there,” I told Anders, pointing out Katy’s driveway, and he made the turn smoothly, his old car bumping down the rutted driveway.

  As we drove between the trees, I couldn’t help remembering the first time I’d ridden Squib down here, when he’d spooked and run away on me. It seemed such a long time ago now. We’d made so much progress since then, and I felt another pang of regret for the way things had turned out.

  Anders pulled up in the middle of the yard, and my heart pounded as I saw Lucas standing patiently in the hosing bay. Katy was on a box next to him, pulling his mane, and her head turned towards me as Anders switched off the ignition.

  “Wait for me,” I told him. “I won’t be long.”