by Janet Rising
Mom dished out the polo mints. Greg patted Drummer’s nose.
“Who’s the dweeb?” asked Drum, his minty breath wafting over us between crunches.
Mom wished me luck and assured me they’d both be watching us. Then, as it was time for James’s jumping round, and we all got a bit frantic and twitchy, she and Greg disappeared and left us to it. I didn’t have time to think any more about my Mom and her new way of dealing with things, but I was certainly going to give it some more thought later when I didn’t have such a hectic schedule. I was shocked, amazed, and a little bit surprised.
Chapter 16
We all helped James saddle Moth, tweaking her brushing boots, straightening her noseband, and pushing James’s tie right up to his shirt collar, then we followed them over to the show jumping ring. Everywhere was awash with Sublime Equine orange and lime banners, and the orange and lime dressed promo girls were there handing out catalogs and flicking back their hair. They looked just like Skinny Lynny. As all the dads ogled at them, the moms pulled disapproving faces and gave their husbands elbow nudges. Yup, just like Skinny, I thought with a sigh.
“The jumps look huge,” gulped James, after walking the course and warming up over the practice fences. They did, but as Katy pointed out, in her official role of morale booster, that was because of all the fillers and flowers in them. They were, she assured James, no bigger than the ones he’d jumped at home.
James sidled up to me. “Can I borrow You-know-who for a quick confidence-building sesh?”
I screwed up my face. “Oh, James, I can’t. She’s pinned into my pocket with, like, a million safety pins, and it will take too long to get her out. Sorry.”
James shortened his reins. “Well, we’ll just have to do it on our own, won’t we, girl?” he said, patting Moth’s chestnut neck.
Moth’s bottom lip quivered, and she looked straight ahead, all wide-eyed as usual, her white face making her look really intense. If only she wasn’t so nervous of everyone but James, I thought, stroking her neck. At least she’s stopped flinching every time I touched her. That was progress.
“You can do it, Moth. We all believe in you,” I whispered. And then the announcer was telling the crowd that the next to jump was James Beecham and Gypsy Moth, and Katy, Bean, and I held our breath and leaned on the fence as our first team members cantered into the ring.
“Oh, come on, James,” said Katy, her fingers crossed.
The bell rang, and James and Moth raced through the start like they meant business, Moth’s eyes opened wide at the fillers and flowers. They flew over the first four jumps at a blistering pace and in great style, and we allowed ourselves to breath out a little. Then there was a double, which Moth didn’t like the look of—she snorted even more than usual, and James had to ride her strongly through, but nothing fell. A nasty, narrow gate was next, and although Moth’s front hooves clipped it, it didn’t fall (Bean put her hands over her eyes at this point, and I think I actually stopped breathing), and they then raced over a wall, a hedge, a couple of big spreads, and a water jump, before turning for the final three jumps, a nasty treble of shark’s teeth.
“Come on…come on…” muttered Bean, jiggling up and down, riding Moth from the ground.
Moth took off too early over the first jump. Katy squeaked. Bean groaned and I dug my nails into my palms. Was this where our hopes fell apart?
The striding was all off for the second element, but Moth launched herself in the air and managed to clear it. But there was still the last jump to go. How could she do it? It looked impossible. Moth had no speed left, and the last jump was a spread, needing to be tackled from a strong pace. We watched as James legged on, urging his gallant chestnut mare on with his hands and heels. We heard him ask her for an extra effort with a desperate “Hup! ” and saw Moth take off way, way too soon. Surely disaster was inevitable?
I couldn’t look.
Screwing my eyes shut, I waited to hear the inevitable sounds of planks falling, the groan of the crowd, and the announcer shouting four faults. But instead, the longest ever silence was broken by the thud of hooves on grass, the crowd clapping, and the announcer shouting, “Clear round!”
“Yes!” shouted Bean, leaping up and punching the air.
“Oh, fantastic, Moth!” screamed Katy.
“But how?” I said astonished. “How?”
“She flicked her hind feet up over that last plank!” said Bean. “She’s such a star!”
I’d missed Moth’s Herculean effort by closing my eyes. I vowed never to be so wussy again.
Surrounding Moth as she came out, we all went bonkers and told them how clever they both were.
“It was all Moth!” James said, sliding out of the saddle and giving his mare a big hug. “She was just the best.”
And Moth actually looked pleased with herself. Instead of her usual shrinking, don’t-look-at-me demeanor, her eyes sparkled as if to say, “I did that. I pulled out all the stops and jumped my heart out for you all. I’m part of this team!” We each gave her a big kiss and a hug.
“What about me?” James laughed.
“We would if you were a horse!” Bean laughed, screwing up her nose and giving Moth another mint.
Talk about a missed opportunity!
Chapter 17
Awaiting our turn in the collecting ring, I swallowed hard. Drum and I really had to raise our game if we weren’t to disgrace ourselves in front of everyone. And I had a score to settle with Cat—I just couldn’t bear the thought of her beating me, not after she’d tried to get the Great Eight disqualified. My wimple wafted in front of my eyes, and I could hear a faint tinkle every time Drum shook his head against a fly.
A boy on a black pony was performing his routine. Dressed as a wizard, the boy rode his star-spangled pony in ever-decreasing circles to a Harry Potter sound track. Everyone around me murmured approval and nodded their heads. He seemed to be the favorite to win. I glanced around. Cat and Bambi had already performed their routine, and I could see them outside the collecting ring with Leanne and Scott. I watched as a woman joined them, a woman with a stroller and two young children. Lifting the bigger child, the woman gaily plopped her on Bambi’s broad back, and I could see Cat looking less than happy about it. I was astonished—why was she putting up with it? She wasn’t usually so accommodating!
“How did Cat and Bambi do?” I asked Katy, watching the child drumming its feet on Bambi’s sides.
“Er, I can just see the scoreboard,” said Katy, standing on tip-toe and screwing up her eyes. “Pretty well, she’s in the lead at the moment. She must be thrilled.”
“She doesn’t look very thrilled,” I said, my heart sinking. “Who’s that woman over there with her?” I asked. “She just plonked her child on Bambi—and Cat doesn’t look too happy about it. Why doesn’t she tell her to get lost? I would if someone did that to my pony!”
“That’s just the problem—” began Bean. “Ouch!”
I turned around and just caught Katy glaring at Bean, who was rubbing her elbow.
“What?” I said. “What’s the problem? Who is she?”
“No idea,” said Bean, a little too quickly. “Get ready, the wiz is almost done.”
We were next—but I was determined to find out what Katy and Bean were hiding. There was some big secret about Cat and Bambi, something the others weren’t telling me. They’d refused to tell me what it was all about before. I’m still the new girl, I thought with a pang.
The star-spangled black pony came out hot and puffing. Taking a deep breath I glanced over at James who was in charge of my music. He gave me the thumbs-up sign.
“Next to go is Pia Edwards and Drummer,” announced the voice on the loudspeaker.
My mouth was dry, and I could feel my legs shaking. My hand went to my pocket where Epona was safely stashed away. We needed some magic now.
“Come on,” cried Drummer, confidently, jingling as he stepped forward. “Let’s knock ’em dead!” His confidence rubbed
off. It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the ring with him for our Brookdale debut—the stuff of dreams. Except that I didn’t have the stars and stripes on my jacket and I wasn’t jumping for my country. I was dressed in a yellow dress and my pony wore bells on his ears. It wasn’t quite a fulfillment of my wild ambitions, but, hey, everyone has to start somewhere.
The ring seemed huge, and there were what looked like thousands of faces all turned in our direction. Strange then that Catriona’s face loomed out of the crowd, forcing my confidence into my boots. But then our music started, and Drum was already into our routine. Tearing my gaze away from Catriona, I concentrated on the job at hand. I couldn’t let Drum down now!
Drum was as good as his word—he was magnificent! He didn’t just do the routine hoof-perfect, he jingled in all the right places, he tossed his head and gave exuberant leaps, he was just fantastic—talk about playing to the crowd! I remembered to smile and exaggerate my movements, and everyone loved us! They laughed in all the right places and clapped like crazy at the end. Except Cat, of course. She just stood outside the ring with her arms folded, looking sullen. Drum and I took a bow and skipped out of the ring where our teammates surrounded us.
“Awesome!” declared James, nodding his head.
“Oh, wow, well done, Drummer!” cried Katy, dishing out the mints.
“You were so the best, Pia, by miles!” said Bean, even though she hadn’t seen any of the others.
“Better than the Harry Potter wannabe, anyway,” mumbled James.
We waited for the score. It was out of twenty, and anything over fifteen was considered pretty good. When it was written on the scoreboard I almost fell over.
“Oh, Pia, you’ve got nineteen!” squealed Katy, dancing around in delight.
“You’re in the lead! ” screamed Bean, clutching my arm.
“Take that, Potter boy!” growled James.
I gave Drummer the biggest hug of his life. “You are the best pony in the whole world!” I told him, burying my face in his braided mane.
“Yeah, yeah, tell me something I don’t know!” said my pony. For once, I decided his smugness was justified.
There was no time to linger. Drum, Katy, Bean, and I wandered back to the horse trailer where Dee was getting ready for her showing class. I hardly recognized her. She wore a beautiful blue velvet cap on top of her hair, which was wound into a tight bun. With a cream shirt, blue and scarlet spotted tie, navy jacket, soft brown leather gloves, cream jodhpurs, and brown boots, she looked a million miles from the scruffy Dee-Dee we were used to seeing at the yard.
“Wow, Dee, look at you!” exclaimed Bean.
“Yeah, I know, I look ridiculous.” Dee sighed.
“You look fabulous!” I said.
Dee’s mom didn’t think so.
“Dee, your tie isn’t tight enough, and your hat’s on crooked. Come here and hold Dolly…there. Oh, for goodness sake, don’t let her eat, she’ll spit green slime all over herself. Must I do everything? Wake up! Stand still while I tie on your number. There. OK, leg up; one…two…no, are you doing this deliberately? On three, we always do it on three. Try again. One…two…three. Now ride her in over there—find a space—and get her on the bit and working properly. If she doesn’t qualify for HOYS here, then we might as well give up and take up knitting. And smile! Hello, hello?” Her cell phone interrupted the tirade and instructions to Dee were reduced to hand signals and face pulling.
Bean and I exchanged glances. If this was showing Sophie style, no wonder Dee complained so much. It was worse than being in the army. Dolly, however, seemed to love her showing career—from what I could hear as she trotted around.
“Tra, la, la…oh, Crispin, you look in fine form today. Is that Bilbo Baggins? My word, he’s put on weight, whatever are they feeding him? Yoo-hoo, Lady Macbeth, you look wonderful, darling. What is your human using on your coat? I can see my face in it!”
Sophie started up again: “Kick on, Dee, she’s hardly moving. Get her going forward, she’ll never catch the judge’s eye like that! And smile, I said…”
“Jeez, Dee’s mom’s a total nightmare,” I whispered to Bean. She raised her eyebrows and nodded dumbly.
James came flying back, having been to look at the overall scoreboard. Breathless, he skidded to a halt, colliding into Bean and knocking her flying.
“Sorry, Bean—but hey, guys, I’ve got news. With a fast clear from Katy and Bluey, we’ll be in the top five teams.”
“We haven’t gone clear yet,” said Katy, unraveling Bluey’s tail bandage to reveal his braided tail. “And Bean’s bound to do a fantastic test!” she added kindly.
Bean shook her head. “You know I’m going to forget the test,” she replied. “But at least my score can be discounted now you’ve all done so well. I just wish I didn’t have to go at all.”
“We’ll be disqualified if you don’t, remember?” I reminded her.
“That’s right,” agreed James. “But with Katy and Bluey as our sure thing and guaranteed a clear round, we really have a chance!”
Chapter 18
It was time for our sure things to do their stuff. “Does anyone know how that cheating Dweeb pony did in the jumping?” asked Bean, holding Katy’s off-side stirrup as Katy swung herself into Bluey’s saddle.
“Shhh,” said Katy, looking around to see if anyone had heard. “We can’t say anything about that.”
“She’s last to jump,” said James grimly.
“OK, guys,” Katy said, patting Bluey’s flecked neck. “Here we go. See you soon with good news, I hope.”
Bluey was calmness personified as Drummer and Tiffany wished him luck.
“Go eat up those jumps, you machine!” said Tiffany.
“Nothing less than a fast clear is acceptable,” Drummer yelled as a parting shot.
I gave Katy the thumbs-up sign. “Bluey’s totally looking forward to it. No worries!” I told her.
Scott and Warrior were just finishing as we all got to the start of the cross-country. Warrior’s breath came out in great puffs like a steam engine, and Scott looked cool, calm, and collected. Catriona and Leanne were there, too.
“Another clear round!” Cat said to us.
“Congratulations. Well done, Scott,” James said.
“Yes, well done,” I added.
“We don’t cheat,” Cat mouthed to me. I ignored my impulse to mouth back, “Oh, yes, you do!” We couldn’t say anything about the Dweeb, and my conscience still bothered me. Was Cat right? Were we cheating? Was I cheating?
Katy and Bluey leaped over the first jump in a flash of purple and disappeared into the trees, out of sight. It would be some time before our teammates returned, but the commentator kept us up to speed. And they’re clear over the second and going nicely to the third. A good leap over the ski jump, and onto the next jump where they’re clear again.” It was all going well so far. James was right— they were a sure thing.
“Come on, Bluey, do your stuff!” muttered Bean, her fingers crossed.
“Shhh, listen,” I said. “They’re announcing the results of Dee-Dee’s class.” The announcer from the showing rings boomed out over the loudspeaker.
“First, Datchets Dolly Daydream, ridden by Delia Wiseman, second…”
Whoever was second was drowned out by us all jumping up and down.
“Yes! ” shouted James. “This is so our day. We’re all going home with Brookdale ribbons. Yippee!”
“And she’s qualified for HOYS,” Bean pointed out.
“And the journey home with Sophie will be sweet. Imagine the atmosphere in the cab if Dee hadn’t qualified!”
It didn’t bear thinking about.
I suddenly became aware that the cross-country commentator was saying something I didn’t want to hear. Something unbelievable.
“And they’ve jumped the wrong side of the flag— that’s elimination.”
“What’s happened?” I cried. “They can’t be talking about Katy
, can they?”
The world seemed to stop as we all strained to hear the announcer. But we’d missed the drama, missed hearing exactly what had happened. Missed the moment it had all gone wrong for our sure things. Where did that leave the Great Eight?
Making our way to the finish, nobody dared to speak. I felt sick. Maybe we’d heard wrong, maybe the commentator had been mistaken. Bluey couldn’t have gone wrong. Bluey never, ever went wrong.
Running back to the trailer, we got there just as Katy and Bluey arrived back, too.
“What happened?” demanded James.
Katy looked totally crestfallen—and near to tears.
“I’m so, so sorry, it was all my fault,” she said, closing her eyes at the terrible memory as she jumped to the ground.
I could hear Bluey whispering, “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. I just couldn’t help it.”
“It was the jump coming out of the woods,” puffed Katy, tearing off her hat and running her fingers through her hair. “The sun was shining brightly, and after the darkness of the woods, neither of us could see where we were going. The sun was blinding—I could barely see. It’s moved around the sky from where it was this morning when I walked the course.”
“I saw the jump at the last moment,” moaned Bluey, distraught at his mistake. “I thought I jumped it, but I was on the wrong side of the flag. I’ve let you all down.”
“I messed up,” continued Katy, unable to hear her pony. “The jump was narrow, it wasn’t Bluey’s fault. I couldn’t believe it when I realized.” She groaned, her shoulders sagging at the memory.
“Bluey’s beside himself,” I said, putting a supportive hand on Bluey’s mane to show him we didn’t blame him.
“Oh, Bluey, you couldn’t help it,” whispered Katy, kissing his cheek. “You’re a star. You always will be.”
“Yeah, Bluey, it’s OK,” said James.
“No one blames you,” said Bean. But she looked white because with Katy and Bluey out of the competition, Bean’s dressage score had to count. It was the only thing standing between the Great Eight’s disgrace or glory.