Spud & Charli

by Samantha Wheeler

  ‘Not out there. In here, quick!’

  Mrs Bacton bent over Spud’s back leg, pressing the cotton wool against his skin and winding the blue bandage around and around his hoof and fetlock.

  ‘Poor monkey,’ she said, a little out of breath. ‘He’s supposed to have the bandage on for at least five days, but he pulled it off as soon as the vet left. Here, cut this, will you?’

  She nodded to where the roll of bandage left Spud’s leg. I leant down and snipped at the stretchy fabric and then quickly ducked out of the way.

  Mrs Bacton smoothed down the sticky end. Spud stamped his new blue foot and snorted.

  There was no dried blood, or any mummy-like wrappings.

  ‘I don’t think he approves of the colour,’ said Mrs Bacton, stroking Spud’s neck. He whickered and pushed at her cheek with his nose.

  I wished he would push at me. Then I could wrap my arms around him and kiss him, and tell him I was sorry. But instead, I stood like a soldier, still and stiff and sad, while Mrs Bacton gave him a cuddle.

  Alice arrived with Spud’s pellets just in time. The tears were about to spill from my eyes.

  ‘There,’ said Mrs Bacton, with a final pat. ‘I think we’ll leave you to your breakfast, old buddy. I’m ready for a shower.’

  She reached for the scissors, and I handed them to her without looking up.

  ‘Yes, and you and I have a phone call to make, don’t we, young lady?’

  My chest tightened. Who would answer – Matt or Gus? And who would be the maddest – Mum or Dad?

  Spud flicked his mane and gazed at me, his eyes soft. I sent him a telepathic hug. Sorry, boy, I told him inside my head.

  Alice gave my arm a squeeze.

  Mrs Bacton gathered up her first-aid box and closed Spud’s stall behind us. She led the way out of the stables, only pausing when we reached the bunkhouse. ‘Go get your things together, and I’ll come and get you when I’m ready.’

  I could hardly think, let alone speak. It was now or never. I didn’t follow Alice into the bunkhouse.

  ‘Mrs Bacton …’ I stammered. ‘If you didn’t … you know … send me home, I could watch over Spud and make sure he doesn’t rip off his bandages. I could fix up his stall, fill up his water … and you know, all the boring stuff that no-one wants to do.’

  Mrs Bacton’s eyes narrowed. ‘Caring for an injured animal isn’t boring,’ she said. ‘Spud is relying on us to help him get well. And all those chores you mentioned? Cleaning stables and feeding are all part of owning a horse. If you think that’s boring, then I’m not sure you—’

  ‘No. No, I didn’t mean that,’ I said hastily. ‘I just … I thought, you know, you would be busy enough with the other girls, and the lessons, and the gymkhana …’

  Mrs Bacton sighed. ‘Ah yes, the gymkhana,’ she said. ‘So you heard? I’m afraid it’s just not possible. There’s an awful lot to do to prepare for an event like that and now with Spud …’

  ‘I could help. I could set up the jumps and get the arena ready …’

  ‘So you know how to set up jumps then, Charli?’

  ‘I’d do a really good job. I promise.’

  ‘Listen, I’m tired. Right now, I need a hot shower, and I’m desperate for a cup of tea. I’ll think about it, okay?’

  Spud ripped off his bandages six more times before the end of the week. By then, I’d carried about three hundred litres of water, twenty-five nets of hay, shovelled my body weight in horse poo, and spread enough sawdust to keep a small woodchip factory in business. The other girls, with the exception of Alice, thought it was hilarious.

  ‘Here, you, stablehand, help me with my stirrups!’ they would shout.

  ‘Go get my helmet. I left it on the bench. Hurry!’

  ‘Something smells like horse poo around here. Oh, that’s right, it’s only Charli.’

  Hahaha. There were giggles and digs and smirky looks, but I didn’t care. Spud was getting better, and that’s all that mattered.

  At the end of each day, Alice and I would slink off to the bathrooms and sit between two sinks so she could fill me in on their lessons.

  ‘So, what did you learn?’ I would ask.

  ‘Oh, not much, pretty much the same old, same old,’ she’d lie.

  I’d have to press her for more.

  ‘Well, like, we learnt how to do dressage, and everyone did a practice test, and afterwards Mrs Bacton read out our scores and—’

  ‘How’d you go?’

  ‘Yeah, okay.’

  ‘Still no gymkhana?’

  ‘Nope.’ And then she’d change the subject. ‘So, tell me about Mr Shearer. How did his daughter die again?’

  I’d explain about how the champion horse got sick with Hendra virus and then how Mr Shearer’s daughter caught it too.

  ‘So that’s why he was shooting them? The bats? Because they killed his daughter?’

  ‘No,’ I’d remind her. ‘Remember? He was shooting blanks, trying to protect the colony.’

  ‘But he hates bats, right?’

  ‘No, I told you. He says they’ve done nothing wrong. He likes them because they help the environment.’

  ‘Wow. And his and Mrs Bacton’s horses are vaccinated?’

  ‘Yes.’

  On the last evening, Alice’s face was unusually serious.

  ‘What happened?’ I asked.

  She didn’t say anything at first.

  ‘Did you fall off?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Was it Mikaela? Is she being—?’

  ‘No! It’s not Mikaela. It’s … everyone. We had a jumping lesson today, but Mrs Bacton wouldn’t set up the whole course. She said she was too tired. Everyone’s complaining – they want more jumping, and they’re angry about the gymkhana.’ She hesitated and inspected her nails. ‘They’re saying camp sucks, and it’s all your fault.’

  I frowned. ‘But you don’t mind about the jumps, right?’ I asked.

  Alice picked at a piece of hay on her joddies. ‘You know that hill?’ she began. ‘When you and Spud were running away?’

  ‘We weren’t running away,’ I corrected her. ‘I was saving him from being shot.’

  ‘Yeah, well, whatever. Anyway, when we got down the bottom, Mikaela and Razz were going pretty fast, and they jumped this massive fallen log, and I was right behind them, so I didn’t have a choice.’

  I remembered the log. It had been massive. Spud and I had gone around it. ‘You jumped it?’

  ‘I know!’ she said, grinning. ‘Pretty cool, huh? I think I like jumping now.’

  So, she was mad about the jumping course. ‘That’s great. Go you!’ I said, but my voice sounded hollow.

  We sat a while in silence. It was Alice who spoke up first. ‘Last day tomorrow,’ she said.

  I sighed. ‘Yeah, last day. Hey, I’m really sorry about the gymkhana.’

  Alice shook her head. ‘It’s okay,’ she said, making a big effort to search her joddies for more hay.

  ‘You blame me too, don’t you?’

  She found a piece and flicked it off. ‘Course not!’ she said, standing up too quickly. ‘It wasn’t your fault. Mikaela lied, the bats freaked us out … Don’t worry about it.’

  I lay in bed that night worrying about the gymkhana. I had to make it happen. It was the only way to apologise to the other girls. To Alice.

  Outside, the bats screeched and squawked. They seemed to be growing louder every night. No wonder they freaked people out. It was easy to be afraid of what you didn’t know.

  An extra-loud screech made me jump.

  That was it! That’s how I’d make the gymkhana happen!

  I started to hatch a plan.

  14. The Gymkhana

  Mrs Bacton was already dressed when she opened the back door the next morning.
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  ‘Can I use the phone?’ I asked when I’d finished reassuring her that everything was all right.

  Luckily, she didn’t ask why I wanted the phone, or why I needed Mr Shearer’s number so early in the morning. I prayed he’d pick up. We didn’t have much time.

  ‘Uh-huh, I see, uh-huh.’ Mr Shearer paused, but I was used to his pauses, so I waited. When I’d come up with this plan in my head, I was so sure that he’d agree. His Olympic-style arena was way too good to waste. And why would he miss the chance to see his daughter’s jumps finally in action?

  ‘Yes, okay. Righto, mm, mm,’ he said after a minute. ‘Okey-dokey, you’d better put on the boss.’

  I passed the phone to Mrs Bacton, my stomach flipping. I hoped we could convince her. If we did, I couldn’t wait to see the girls’ faces when I told them the news.

  Alice was the first person I told.

  ‘You’ve got two hours to get ready, and then Mrs Bacton will lead you over. ’

  ‘You’re not coming?’

  I shook my head.

  Alice’s shoulders slumped. ‘Not even to watch?’

  ‘Nope. I haven’t got a horse to ride, remember? But tell me about it after, okay.’

  She came with me to tell the others. ‘But there’s one condition,’ I said once the whooping and high-fiving had stopped.

  Mikaela exhaled unnecessarily loudly.

  ‘Whenever you hear complaints about bats, you have to promise to tell people that bats are an important part of our environment. That’s all Mr Shearer asks. He wants people to know that bats shouldn’t be hurt or disturbed. Agreed?’

  Alice was a given, and after her, the pink twins said a tentative yes. As soon as they did, the fly-spray girls looked at each other and nodded. We waited for Mikaela while she inspected the perfectly straight ends of her ponytail.

  ‘Mikaela?’

  She looked up, pouting. ‘What?’

  ‘Will you tell people about the bats?’

  ‘Don’t be stupid.’

  We all sucked in our breath.

  ‘Course I will.’

  If it had been anybody else, I would have hugged her. ‘Okay! We’ve got two hours. That’s to groom, polish, and do up full dressage plaits. Once you’re ready, wait for Mrs Bacton. She’ll meet you at the yards to take you over.’

  Everyone started talking at once.

  ‘Oh, but first you have to pack. Our parents will arrive as soon as the gymkhana’s finished, and they’ll be waiting to take us home.’

  The pink girls raced to the bunkhouse. The fly-spray girls begged Alice to help them with their plaits. Mikaela gave me a look that could have meant ‘great job’, or ‘you should shower’. Either way, I didn’t care.

  I’d organised the gymkhana!

  Two hours was hardly enough. Buckets and brushes and ribbons flew from one end of the stables to the other. I ran between the horses, doing whatever I could to help, in between checking on Spud.

  Finally everyone was ready.

  ‘Break a leg,’ I yelled to Alice, as she and Joey trotted off.

  It was quiet with just me and Spud left behind. I made him up a fresh net of hay and sat down beside him in his stall.

  ‘We wouldn’t have looked the part anyway,’ I told him. ‘Unless your blue foot got us extra points?’

  He snorted green hay goo into my hair.

  ‘Anyway, even if you were okay, I don’t deserve to go. Not after what I did. Mum and Dad are never going to let me get a horse now. Not when they find out what happened.’

  Spud bent towards me, hay poking from his mouth. His ears pricked forwards and his brown eyes studied me as he brushed his soft nose against my cheek.

  ‘I’m going to miss you too,’ I whispered, my fingers tickling the whiskers on his chin. ‘I hope the next girl knows how lucky she is.’

  There was a clunk at the stable door. ‘There you are. I should have (wheeze) known I’d find you here! Like all good strappers, you’re with your horse.’

  Mr Shearer was wearing a smart blue-and-white collared shirt. His horseshoe ring looked extra shiny today. ‘How’s the patient?’ he asked, peering past me towards Spud. ‘Up for a short drive?’

  I tipped my head. ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Well, he’s hardly going to want to be (wheeze) stuck here listening to you go all soppy over him (wheeze) when his mates are on their way to a party. I’ve brought the float, and one of my men, and I even have the boss’s permission. But …’ He frowned at Spud. ‘May I suggest (wheeze) a smarten up before we go?’

  For a man in a wheelchair, Mr Shearer was surprisingly good at grooming. While he fiddled with elastics and combs, I brushed out knots and cleaned Spud’s ears. It was Mr Shearer who suggested we wrap Spud’s other three legs in the sticky blue bandages too, and then match them with blue ribbons in his mane.

  The stablehand helped me load Spud into the float, and by the time we pulled into Mr Shearer’s driveway, Mrs Bacton and the others were just arriving from the ride across the hilltop.

  ‘Spud looks beautiful,’ said Alice, grinning.

  And he did.

  The jumping course was even more spectacular close up. And so was the dressage arena. Mrs Bacton and Mr Shearer sat at one end, with clipboards and stern faces, as each of the girls had their turn.

  The trophy glinted between them, like real gold in the sun.

  Mikaela won the jumping, with Alice close behind, and one of the pink twins won the dressage. There were points for sportsmanship, teamwork, and for presentation. Mrs Bacton stuck out her tongue as she wrote both judges’ comments in the margins.

  Joey’s plaits were definitely the best.

  ‘Line up, girls!’ instructed Mrs Bacton while she and Mr Shearer added up the scores.

  Apparently, that meant Spud and me too.

  ‘It’s a close one this year. A one-point decider.’

  I swore I heard a drum roll, but maybe it was just my pounding heart.

  ‘Our summer camp winner is … Alice Black!’

  I think there was a squeal, and then some clapping. I can’t quite remember. I’d been staring at Mikaela, waiting to hear her name called, and it took me a moment to focus on Alice.

  ‘Congratulations, young lady, you won on points for improvement, for sportsmanship, and for courage, and just look at those plaits! Well done!’

  Mr Shearer shook Alice’s hand and passed her the trophy. As soon as she thanked him, she turned and held the trophy high. It was nearly as big as her.

  I clapped and gave her two thumbs up.

  Her face was splitting in half.

  So was mine.

  My palms began to sweat even before we loaded Spud onto the float. Mum and Dad would be waiting at the riding school when we got back.

  ‘Good luck with everything,’ I said to Mr Shearer when he dropped Spud and me at the stables. ‘I hope the bat thing goes okay.’

  Mr Shearer smiled and fiddled with his tube, his horseshoe ring gleaming in the sun. ‘Oh, it will, Charli. It will. Now I’ve got you girls on my side, eh?’

  Once he left, the stables became a clutter of tack, boots, and helmets as the others returned and put away their stuff for the last time.

  ‘Congratulations on the jumping,’ I said to Mikaela, but she dismissed me with a ‘Whatever!’ and wandered off to face her parents. The pink twin who won the dressage was far more gracious and even thanked me for organising the gymkhana.

  ‘There you are, darling,’ oozed Mum once I’d finished settling Spud back in the stables. ‘Goodness, when was the last time you had a shower?’

  ‘How was it, champ? Harder than you thought?’ Dad tousled my hair like he always did, and for a second I could pretend it would be okay. ‘Feeding, grooming, all that work? Bet you can’t wait to get home!’

  Home to
Matt and Gus digging me about my missing trophy.

  I searched for Mrs Bacton. She was walking around to each set of parents, smiling and shaking hands. It wouldn’t be long before Mum and Dad knew the truth.

  By the time Mrs Bacton got to us, my head was dizzy from answering all of Mum’s questions.

  ‘Ahh, Mr and Mrs Priestly,’ she said, which already didn’t sound too good. ‘Pleased to see Charli in one piece?’

  Mum laughed a little nervously, and Dad gave my hair another ruffle.

  ‘How’d she go?’ asked Dad.

  I held my breath. This was the end of life as I knew it.

  ‘We had a few hiccups, didn’t we, Charli? Mainly from some rather nasty wind. But all in all, I couldn’t have asked for a more mature student. She looked after her horse with the responsibility of someone twice her age. Didn’t you, Charli?’

  I had to shut my mouth before my chin scraped on the dirt. ‘Thank you,’ I managed to mumble.

  Dad clapped a proud hand on my back. ‘There’s my girl. Never a doubt!’

  ‘So did she … did she cause any trouble?’ said Mum.

  Mrs Bacton’s straight white smile shone. ‘Only a bit,’ she said, her eyes dancing. ‘But I think the horses soon set her straight. She’d be welcome anytime,’ Mrs Bacton continued. ‘I think Spud would be pleased to see her back, and I’d happily waiver the camp fees in exchange for her help. I rather enjoyed having a stablehand.’

  I could hardly believe my ears.

  ‘What do you say, champ?’ said Dad as Mrs Bacton moved on to Alice’s parents. ‘Not keen to come back are you? To all that hard work?’

  Keen? I couldn’t think of anything better!

  ‘Yes please!’ I exclaimed.

  When I went to say goodbye to Spud, Mum and Dad didn’t ask me why he was in the stable. They didn’t even ask why he had blue bandages on his legs as I hugged him and told him he was the most handsome horse I knew. They were too busy stepping over buckets and saddles and trying to absorb Mrs Bacton’s words.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ I said. ‘I’m coming back! Who would have guessed?’

  Spud pushed me softly with his nose. His nudge was gentle and warm.

  ‘And next time, I won’t get us in trouble.’ I smiled and scratched his ears. ‘I promise.’