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High Horse

Page 3

by Bonnie Bryant


  AFTER COMANCHE HAD been boarded, and her gear shoved onto the van, Lisa perched on the top rail of the fence. She looked at the busy scene before her. Stevie was helping Joe Novick pick Rusty’s hoof, and she looked totally engrossed in the task.

  Phil was also watching Stevie, and he had a dark expression on his face. He’s jealous, Lisa realized. How funny.… Stevie was worried about Phil’s being interested in Betsy, while here he was, about to explode because Stevie was standing so close to Joe.

  This is a perfect thing to write about in my journal, she thought. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out the small notebook and pen she’d brought along for exactly this purpose.

  “OKAY,” CAROLE SAID to Amie and Jackie, “what’s the most important thing to remember about loading a horse into a van?”

  Amie rolled her eyes. “You can’t use force.”

  “Right,” Carole said. “Why?”

  Jackie was bouncing up and down on her heels with excitement at knowing the answer. “Because the next time that horse sees a van, he will totally and completely panic. You may never get him close to a van again.”

  “Exactly,” Carole said. “What do you call that?”

  Amie and Jackie both made faces, trying to think of the word.

  “Imprinting,” Carole said. “Like imprinting something on a page. If you force a horse into a van, you imprint him with van fear.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Amie said. “I knew that.”

  Next Carole untied Patch, who was tethered to the paddock fence. Patch was one of the gentlest horses at Pine Hollow. He was a perfect choice to demonstrate loading. “Now you guys tell me what to do.”

  “Talk to him softly,” Jackie said. “Like, pretend you’re in love with him.”

  “Whisper mushy stuff to him,” chimed in Amie.

  The two girls giggled, but Carole shook her head. “Get serious. Now tell me in detail. And no jokes either—”

  Jackie and Amie exchanged grim looks.

  From her perch on top of the white fence Lisa could see that Jackie and Amie were wondering if this overnight was going to be as much fun as they had thought. Sometimes Carole could be just too serious. But this was another good opportunity for Lisa. Mr. Haegle had said that the key to developing sympathetic characters was presenting their defects as well as their virtues. He had said, “Hint—keep an eye out for those characteristic faults.” Whenever Mr. Haegle said “hint” he was telling his students what it took to get an A. Lisa always paid special attention to those hints.

  Carole led Patch easily up the ramp and disappeared inside. While she was gone, Jackie punched Amie on the elbow, and Amie began chasing Jackie. As Lisa watched them play tag, she smiled. Poor Carole, she thought. She’s trying to impart some horse wisdom to these two, and they’re not in the least bit interested.

  As Carole came out of the horse van, she took a deep breath, as if she were trying to quell her annoyance, and then looked around for the girls. By this time they were over at the other end of the paddock. Carole shook her head.

  Just then Stevie came around the side of one of the horse vans, swinging her arms. Suddenly she got an evil look on her face. No, it wasn’t evil, Lisa decided, that was going too far. Mr. Haegle had said that it was important not to exaggerate. Instead Stevie’s expression was … devilish. Lisa saw that Stevie was looking at Veronica diAngelo, who had Red O’Malley, the head stable hand, checking her equipment list.

  “Bringing your manicure set?” Stevie said with a nasty grin.

  “I see you never got that beauty makeover,” Veronica retorted. “What a shame.”

  “Cool it, girls,” Red O’Malley said.

  Another interesting situation. Lisa quickly started scribbling in her notebook. She couldn’t believe how many fast-breaking stories there were on this MTO.

  STEVIE WALKED AWAY from Veronica. There was no point in bothering with her. It was a pity Veronica was coming along on this MTO, but Stevie decided just to ignore her. Besides, it was time to find Phil and make sure that she got a seat next to him in the van. It was a two-hour drive to Silverado State Park. They could talk. They could joke.

  But then she saw Phil helping Betsy Cavanaugh tie her sleeping bag. Gosh, Stevie thought, I knew Betsy was dumb, but can’t she even tie a knot by herself?

  “Phil, you got the sleeping bag so flat!” Betsy said admiringly.

  Stevie waited for Phil to laugh at the ridiculous comment, but instead he smiled at Betsy and said, “It’s something I learned out West. When you’re strapping your bedroll behind your saddle, you want it to be really secure.”

  Stevie knew that this was true, and she knew that it’s not easy to get your sleeping bag as compact as cowboys do. She had wrestled with this problem when she was staying at The Bar None Dude Ranch, and the truth was that she had never gotten her bag as flat as she would have liked it. But there was no reason for Phil and Betsy to worry about compact sleeping bags right now. Betsy’s bag would simply be stowed in the bus along with everyone else’s. Who cares if it’s bulky, Stevie thought.

  “Which do you like best?” Betsy breathed. “Western saddles or English?”

  Stevie couldn’t believe that Phil was paying attention to such a dumb question. You couldn’t compare Western and English saddles. They were like apples and oranges.

  “They have different purposes,” Phil said. “A Western saddle is geared for all-day comfort and for roping and tying calves. An English saddle is designed for precision and speed.”

  “I guess you’re really good at both kinds of riding,” Betsy said.

  Stevie couldn’t take any more. This is the dumbest conversation I’ve ever heard, she thought, and marched on by.

  As Stevie stomped past the two of them, Phil looked up in surprise. Or was it surprise? Lisa mused. Hmmmm. She chewed thoughtfully on the end of her pencil. By spending so much time with Betsy Cavanaugh, could Phil be trying to make Stevie jealous? Lisa grinned to herself. Of course he was. He’d seen Stevie and Joe together and decided to get even.

  As Lisa watched Stevie march off toward the stable, Lisa reflected that Stevie got riled up much too easily. Stevie had flown off the handle without stopping to think about what was happening. Another character defect for Lisa’s journal! It made Stevie seem so human. Mr. Haegle was going to love it.

  IN THE VAN the riders told knock-knock jokes. And when they ran out of knock-knock jokes, they told Horse Remorse riddles.

  These were Stevie’s favorite, since the answer to a Horse Remorse riddle was always a rhyme, and she prided herself on being especially clever at making them up.

  “What’s a horse’s favorite kind of party?” she called to the other riders.

  They thought for a second, then Polly Giacomin said, “We give up.”

  “A stall ball!” Stevie cried gleefully.

  When the riders ran out of riddles, they began to sing the Horse-o-Phone song.

  “Hey, Patch,” started Carole.

  “Is someone calling my name?” came the group’s reply.

  “Hey, Patch.”

  “I think I heard it again.”

  “You’re wanted on the Horse-o-Phone.”

  “If it isn’t Starlight, I’m not at home.”

  By the time they got to the unloading spot, Red O’Malley said that he was now deaf for life, which was a good thing because he wouldn’t have to hear them sing anymore.

  Unloading the horses seemed to take even longer than it had to load them. And then the horses had to be saddled. Finally everyone was mounted and it was time to start up the beautiful mountain trails.

  A cheer went up from the riders, which caused Max to hold up his hand. “If you’re eager to go, think of how restless the horses feel. Be sure you’ve got them under control.”

  They rode through woods, past mountain laurel and ferns that were just beginning to open. Before long the trail began to climb.

  Carole could feel the air become cooler and cleaner with a wonderful piney
perfume. Last year Horse Wise had camped at a meadow halfway up the mountain, but this time they were going all the way to the top of the mountain to High Meadow. They took one quick break—lunch alongside a brook—and then continued on their way.

  When the riders reached High Meadow, Max halted them.

  “High Meadow is absolutely pristine,” Max stated quietly, “it’s an undisturbed part of these mountains. Let’s make sure we leave it that way.”

  Lisa nodded vigorously. With its silvery grass swaying in the wind, and wide, expansive view, High Meadow was a beautiful place. She was sure that when the riders weren’t around, all sorts of wildlife visited this place, and she didn’t want to do anything to interfere with that.

  “And now,” Max went on, “it’s time to unsaddle the horses and set up camp.”

  A few of the riders groaned. It was frustrating to be in such a great spot for riding and not be able to ride. But everyone knew Max was right. There were hours and hours of work to do, and the horses had already had a long day.

  The riders unsaddled the horses and put them in a temporary paddock at one end of High Meadow. Then they put blankets on the horses because it got cold at night up there. They set up camp, gathered firewood, and cooked dinner.

  Finally it was time to relax. Everyone sat around the campfire with their feet toward the flames.

  Carole, eager to continue with her Big Sister/Little Sister project, turned to Amie and Jackie. “What makes a horse pine?” she asked.

  “Wanting to be an oak?” Amie said. She and Jackie gave each other high fives at this piece of wit.

  “Not exactly,” Carole said, frowning slightly. “Do you know what pining is?”

  The girls shook their heads, their eyes big in the firelight.

  “A horse hangs her head. Her eyes get dull. She doesn’t want to eat. Sometimes she’ll stop eating altogether.”

  “No!” Amie said. “Horses are always eating. Like Jackie.”

  Jackie gave Amie a violent nudge, and the two of them went over backward, giggling.

  “Let’s get serious,” Carole said. “Horses pine when they’re alone. That’s why you should never have just one horse. What’s a horse’s most basic instinct?”

  “To go back to the barn?” Amie asked.

  Carole shook her head. “A horse’s basic instinct is …”

  Lisa, sitting a few feet away, could tell that Carole was not going to give a definition, but a speech. In fact, Carole was probably going to trace the development of horse instinct over the last sixty million years. Everything she’d say would be one hundred percent accurate, but the little girls only needed a little bit of information. And, knowing Carole, she would take sixty million years to do it. Lisa was beginning to feel sorry for Amie and Jackie.

  “Time for Horse Charades,” Max said from the other side of the fire. “Horse Wise members, take your places.” He gestured to the clearing between the tents and the fire.

  Jackie and Amie bolted upright, looking at Max with bright eyes. “Wait a second,” Carole said. “We’re not finished.” Amie and Jackie drooped back down to their spots around the fire. Lisa could tell that Carole was beginning to seem less like a big sister to them and more like a big bore. Lisa stood up and walked over to them. “What makes Horse Wise riders pine?”

  Amie and Jackie looked at her as if she were yet another bore. But when Lisa said, “Missing Horse Charades,” they laughed.

  “Yeah,” Jackie said. “I’ll never eat again.”

  “Wow,” Lisa said. “That must mean you’ll really be miserable if you miss the game.”

  “And I’ll hang my head all day,” Amie said, hanging her head.

  Carole gave Lisa a grumpy look, but then she nodded and said, “Go ahead,” and the girls shot off before she could change her mind.

  Carole stood up and looked down at her riding boots. With the toe of one boot she flicked a crumb of mud off the other boot. Carole’s boots were comfortably worn. Veronica diAngelo might worry about whether her boots were spotless, but not Carole.

  Lisa made a mental note of this. Carole fussed with her boots when she was angry. It was amazing how much more Lisa was noticing now that she was keeping a journal.

  Stevie joined them.

  “It’s the Horse Charades genius,” Lisa said, looking up at her. “I bet you and Phil are planning to knock them dead.”

  Stevie tossed her head. “Not exactly,” she muttered angrily. “This time Phil’s on his own.”

  Gradually all the Horse Wise members gathered around Max. “Six members to a team,” Max called out. “Team captains will be Joe Novick and Betsy Cavanaugh. Captains, pick your players.”

  With a big smile, Joe made his first choice—Stevie. Now it was Betsy’s turn, and she picked Phil. As Stevie watched, he grinned and sauntered over to sit down next to Betsy. Stevie fumed. Betsy had been flirting with Phil the whole trip, and he clearly didn’t mind one bit.

  When Phil glanced over in Stevie’s direction, she avoided his eyes. She and he had always been competitive with one another—it was something that had caused problems between them in the past. Around him she’d learned to check this side of her personality, or at least joke about it so the two of them could laugh; but right now Stevie couldn’t care less about ticking off Phil. In fact, she reasoned, making him angry would make the game even more fun.

  Joe’s next choice was Carole, which normally would have pleased Stevie, but today she was disappointed. Carole knew a lot about horses, but she tended to space out during games. Maybe we can still get Lisa, Stevie consoled herself. With her brains Lisa was a real asset. But after consulting with Phil, Betsy picked Lisa next, and Joe made things worse by choosing Liam, who was cute, but too young to be a real contributor. Betsy picked Veronica. Joe picked Polly.

  By the time the teams were made up, Stevie knew that Joe’s team was definitely the weaker one. “We’ll have to try hard,” she told him.

  “We’ve got a great team,” Joe said confidently. “We’ll clobber them.”

  Max said, “The first category is book titles.”

  Joe and Betsy flipped a coin to see who would go first. Joe won and elected to start, so Max gave him a slip of paper with a book title written on it. Joe read it and then handed it back to Max.

  Joe held up one finger to indicate first word and put his hand over his eyes and looked around.

  “Search?” Stevie said. “Hunt? Pursue? Seek?”

  Joe shook his head and made the same motion again. Stevie groaned in frustration. If they hadn’t gotten his clue the first time, how would they be able to get it the second?

  “Lookout?” Carole said. At least she was trying.

  “Try another clue,” Stevie urged.

  Max frowned. “Team members are only allowed to guess solutions, not give directions,” he said. “You’re risking disqualification.”

  Joe pounded his heart with his fist and spread his arms.

  “True love,” Amie yelled.

  Joe put his hands in his pockets and pretended to look for something, and all at once Stevie had an inspiration. “Miss,” she yelled. “Little Miss Muffet. Mississippi.” Of course, these were not book titles, and they didn’t have anything to do with horses, but Joe was nodding wildly, so she knew she was on the right track.

  “Miss …”

  “Time,” Max said. “Now the other team is entitled to try.” He gave the answer to Betsy Cavanaugh, who read it and gave it back to him. With a big grin Betsy nodded and crooked her little finger, pretending to drink from a cup.

  “Cup,” Veronica said. “Dainty.”

  Betsy shook her head and pretended to dunk something in the imaginary cup.

  “Tea!” Phil said.

  Betsy nodded and then pointed at Joe’s team to show that Phil should say the word they got.

  “Miss,” Phil said. “Tea.”

  Betsy made a putting-together gesture.

  “Miss-tea. Misty,” Phil said. “Misty of Chincot
eague.”

  Betsy gave a whoop and fell into his arms.

  “Hey, charades is fun.” Phil grinned.

  “Especially when you have a genius on your team,” said Betsy, smiling at him.

  “Give me a break,” Stevie muttered. Carole’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Next round will be movie titles,” Max said. “The title does not necessarily have a horse in it, but there are horses in the movie. Losing team goes first.”

  “I’ll do it,” Stevie said to Joe.

  Max gave Stevie a slip that said Treasure of the Sierra Madre, one of her favorite movies. The only thing was, how could she pantomime the title?

  She indicated that she was starting with the first word. Then she pretended to dig a hole in the ground and pointed at the hole.

  “Boulder?” Joe said. “Dirt?”

  She shook her head and pretended to open a box and then marvel at its contents.

  “Lunch box,” Amie said. Stevie knew that Amie was only six, but Amie’s answer annoyed her because the team was getting further and further away from the true answer. Stevie looked at Carole. This was one of her and Colonel Hanson’s favorite movies, but Carole’s eyes had that blank, dreamy look they got when she was thinking about horses.

  Stevie pretended she was carrying something in both hands. Then she unloaded imaginary things from it, which were supposed to be teacups, and held up the thing itself, which was supposed to be a tray.

  “Platter?” Joe said.

  “Shelf?” Amie said.

  “Time,” Max said.

  Stevie sat down and folded her arms around her knees.

  Phil took over for the other team. Stevie could hardly bear to hear Phil act out the title—the worst part was that he did exactly what she had done. He pretended to dig for something and pointed at the ground.

  “Gold?” Betsy said.

  Phil waggled his fingers to show that she should keep on trying.

  “Silver,” she said. “Oil.”

  Phil pointed at the trees.

  “Tree,” Betsy said.

 

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