“There’s hot chocolate for you girls on the stove,” Mrs. Grover said to May and Dottie. “We’re taking Ellie to the emergency room. They’re waiting for us.”
Wrapped in the blanket, Ellie looked pale and scared.
“She’s going to be okay, right?” May said to Mr. Grover.
“Thanks to you,” he said.
They watched the car drive away.
“Hot chocolate, here I come,” said Dottie.
“We have to take care of Spock and the ponies,” May said.
Dottie groaned.
“Dottie!” May said. “They brought us home.”
“I guess,” Dottie grumbled. But as they walked toward the barn, Dottie said, “You know, May, you were okay out there, like brave or something.” She reached over and punched May’s arm.
“Ouch!” May said, pretending that it hurt. But inside, she felt happy and warm. She knew this might be as close to a compliment as Dottie would ever come.
They had a lot of work to do. Not only did they have to untack the horse and the ponies and give them hay, but they also had to get them settled for the night. May noticed that Dottie had her own way of dealing with ponies. She talked to them as if they were teenage boys. “Stop acting like a dork,” she said to the pony Ellie had ridden.
Finally they were finished.
“The hot chocolate is now cold chocolate,” Dottie said gloomily.
“That’s what stoves are for,” May said. “I’m going to say good-night to the wild pony.”
The pony was in the paddock, sniffing at the fence posts. May went into the barn and looked for the tastiest, crunchiest hay she could find. Finally she found a bunch that was filled with dried flowers. She lifted the hay in her arms and carried it out to the paddock and put it in the feed trough. The pony was hungry. He trotted over and started eating it right away.
This is a pony who knows his way around paddocks, May thought. She wondered if he had run away from a farm like this. Somewhere there was probably someone who really missed him. When the pony raised his head, May reached out and stroked his soft nose. Then she put her arms around him. “You are the greatest,” she said softly.
May leaned against the fence and thought about her wild ride on the moor. She remembered the way the heather had rustled at the pony’s feet every time he seemed to be wondering which way to go. It would be wonderful to think that piskies really did exist and that they had helped guide her and the pony home. But she knew they were only a legend. What had been real was how bravely the wild pony had carried her across the dark, windy moor back to the farmhouse and her parents. Suddenly May missed her own house, and her bedroom with its pony posters, and most of all her two best friends and dear, sweet Macaroni. She wished she could take the wild pony home with her so that she’d never have to say good-bye.
The wild pony sighed.
“I know how you feel,” May said. “You miss your owner. Tomorrow we’ll find her and you’ll be safe at home again.”
8 The Wild Pony Goes Home
When May woke the next morning, she realized that today was not an ordinary day. Today was the day she was going to reunite the wild pony with his owner. She got dressed as fast as she could and raced downstairs.
Ellie was sitting at the kitchen table with one foot up on a chair. On her foot was a cast. Leaning against the wall was a pair of crutches.
“Wow,” May said. “Are you okay?”
“She is not okay,” Mrs. Grover said. “She’s in big trouble.” She looked sternly at May. “I’d like to hear your version of what happened last night.”
May noticed that Ellie and Dottie looked nervous.
“We went for a walk on the moor,” May said. “No big deal.”
“No big deal!” Mrs. Grover said. “I should think it was a big deal.”
Ellie and Dottie looked at May pleadingly.
“It was a gorgeous moonlit night,” May said. “You’re always telling us we should get the most out of Cornwall. Well, we did.”
“You were being totally irresponsible,” said Mrs. Grover.
“The moon was full. The stars were out. It was totally safe,” May said.
“I suppose that’s why your sister broke her ankle,” said Mrs. Grover tartly.
“Sorry, Mom,” May said. “I won’t ever, ever do it again.” That’s for sure, May thought. No way would she ever again go running around the moor on a moonlit night.
May got herself a bowl of cereal and a glass of milk and dug in. She was starving. She finished as fast as she could, washed the bowl and glass, and put them in the dish rack. Then she rushed out to the paddock to see the pony.
The paddock was empty! But it can’t be empty, she thought. She ran to the gate. It was open. The pony must have pushed the latch up and set himself free.
She raced back into the house. Mr. Grover was pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“The pony’s gone,” she said breathlessly. “We have to find him.”
May and her father walked out to the barn. “It’s my fault,” May said. “I should have tied him up.”
Her father put his arm around her. “It’s not your fault.”
“We’ve got to find him,” she said.
She went to tack up Cheddar, and Mr. Grover went to tack up Spock.
They met in the courtyard and rode out of the valley to the top of the hill.
Below them, the moor was pink and green and fuzzy with flowers. Butterflies hovered over the blossoms. May could see the sparkle of a half-hidden stream.
They rode and rode, but the ponies were nowhere.
“He’s out here somewhere,” May said.
As they cantered down the trail, May scanned the moor. Somehow she knew she could find the pony.
They rounded a hill—and there they were. The wild ponies were grazing near the bog where Ellie had broken her ankle.
“Let’s go,” May said to Mr. Grover.
“Hold on, May,” he said.
She turned to look at her father. He had a wistful look.
“He needs us,” May said.
“Are you sure?” Mr. Grover said. “He looks pretty happy to me.”
For a second May felt like pressing her knees against Cheddar’s side to get him to trot forward, but then she looked again. The wild pony raised his head, his mouth full of grass, and chewed contentedly. He stood there for a second, swallowing it, and then he tossed his head and set off at a gallop, the other ponies running after him.
“They’re getting away,” May said.
The pony ran to a hilltop. He stopped, looking over the moor, ready to run again.
“In a second he’ll be gone,” May said. She thought about how the pony needed a young rider to love him.
The pony galloped off again with the other ponies behind him. Where are they going? May wondered. Anywhere they want, she guessed. Suddenly she felt sad. She realized that she would never talk to the pony again, never pat him, never feel his soft coat. She didn’t need to find him a perfect home. He already had one.
“I guess we’d better go back,” she said.
“Not so fast.” Mr. Grover turned to her. “He needs you.”
“Me?” said May. “I don’t think so.”
“He needs you to set him free,” Mr. Grover said. “That halter is dangerous for him. It can get caught on things. It has to be taken off, and you’re the one to do it.”
May took a deep breath. This was not what she had planned.
They rode as close to the ponies as they could without scaring them, and then May got off Cheddar and handed the reins to her father.
May walked slowly forward. She felt terrible. Last night they had been getting to know each other, and now they were saying good-bye.
“Knock knock,” she said.
The pony lifted his head.
“It’s me, with the terrible sense of humor,” she said.
The pony stared at her with his big brown eyes.
He came over to her and pu
t his nose in her hair. She reached for the buckle of his halter. The buckle was gummy. It stuck.
“So where’s that knock-knock joke you were going to tell me?” she said as she worked at the buckle. The pony shook his head. “You’re embarrassed because it’s so bad,” she said. “There’s no shame in a bad knock-knock joke. I tell them all the time.”
The pony snorted. The buckle came open. Gently May slid the halter down over his nose.
“See you,” she said. “Next full moon, think of me.”
The pony pawed and nodded as if that was what he’d been waiting for. He turned and galloped up the hill, with the other ponies following him. The last thing May saw was his tail streaming in the wind.
9 The Girls Take a Gander at Alexander!
“I don’t believe it,” Jasmine said.
She and Corey had stopped off in the Takamuras’ barn to say good-night to Corey’s pony, Sam. Once again, Alexander was missing.
“It happens every night,” Corey said. “The only problem is that it’s impossible.”
Jasmine nodded. The door of Samurai’s stall was always latched. There was no way Alexander could have gotten out.
“Let’s go check May’s barn,” Jasmine said.
They walked down the Pony Trail to May’s barn.
When they got inside, Will was leaning over the door of Macaroni’s stall. “Take a gander,” he said.
“What?” asked Jasmine.
“I think he means we should look,” Corey said.
Jasmine and Corey peered inside the stall. There was Alexander, happily snoozing at Macaroni’s side.
“Weird,” said Corey and Jasmine together.
“Fantastical,” said Will with a grin.
10 Home at Last
On the airplane on the way home, May sat next to her father. After the movie was over, she said, “Can I ask you something?”
Mr. Grover nodded.
“I keep thinking about the wild pony,” May said.
Mr. Grover nodded. “Me too.”
“Would it be okay if I gave him a name?” May said.
“You set him free,” Mr. Grover said. “So you can give him a name.”
“I think of him as Swifty,” May said.
“Excellent name,” Mr. Grover said with a grin.
“He’s better off being free,” May said.
“He wouldn’t be happy otherwise,” Mr. Grover said.
May swallowed. She had something hard to ask. “If Swifty wants to be free, do all ponies want to be free?”
Mr. Grover thought about it and said, “Ponies like being trained. They love learning. They love their owners. But I think there’s a part of them that wants to run free.”
May crossed her arms and clutched her elbows because she hadn’t gotten to the really hard question yet. “Do you think Macaroni wants to run free?”
“Macaroni loves you. And he loves the barn. And he loves Sam and Outlaw. But maybe there’s a part of him that wants to run free,” Mr. Grover said. He grinned again. “Maybe there’s a part of you that wants to run free, too, with no school, and no homework, and no chores.”
“Totally,” May said.
“Maybe that’s why you love each other so much,” Mr. Grover said. “It’s because you understand each other.”
After that, May felt a lot better. The flight attendant came around with orange juice and a snack. May polished them off and snuggled down for a nap. She didn’t wake up until it was time for dinner, which was chicken and peas. The chicken was tasty. The peas needed work.
The next day May woke up in her own bed. The Grovers had gotten home so late the night before that she hadn’t had a chance to see Corey and Jasmine. She hadn’t even gotten to see Macaroni. She jumped out of bed, got dressed, and ran out to the barn.
Macaroni was half asleep. He jumped when she entered the stall.
“Macaroonie!” May said as she put her arms around him. Mac nuzzled her hair and then her ear, and then he moved his head back to get a good look, as if he wanted to make sure it was really her.
“I missed you so much,” May said to him. Macaroni nodded. May could tell it had seemed like a long time for him, too.
“I met a pony called Cheddar,” she said. “He’s great, but not half as great as you.” Macaroni sighed as if this was a big load off his mind.
Then it was time to see Corey and Jasmine.
May headed for Corey’s house and knocked on the back door.
No one answered. May knocked again.
Doc Tock, Corey’s mother, appeared in a white nightgown. She was a vet, so she was always expecting an emergency. “What’s wrong?” she said.
“Nothing,” May said. “I’m home.”
“Oh,” Doc Tock said. She yawned and looked at her watch. “Do you know what time it is?”
“No,” May said.
“Six-fifteen,” Doc Tock said. She grinned. “It’s great to have you home, May. I’ll get Corey.”
A few minutes later Corey came scrambling down the stairs. “May!” They gave each other a big hug.
“Did I miss you!” Corey said.
“Me too,” May said.
“We’ve got to get Jasmine,” said Corey.
“But we don’t want to wake her baby sister,” said May.
“I have an idea,” said Corey.
They walked to Jasmine’s backyard. Corey picked up a pebble and tossed it at Jasmine’s window. It pinged softly. A second later Jasmine appeared at the window. “May!” she whispered. “I’ll be right down.”
A minute later she came scrambling out the back door. She hugged May, and then Corey joined in. They stood there in a big Pony Tail hug.
“Cornwall was great,” May said, “but I missed you guys.”
“We missed you,” Jasmine said.
“It seemed like forever,” Corey said.
“Mac thought so, too,” May said. “Let’s go give him the best grooming ever.”
“Totally,” said Corey.
Fifteen minutes later Macaroni’s coat was gleaming, his mane was fluffy, and his hooves had been polished.
The Pony Tails flopped down on the straw in the empty stall next to his. May told Corey and Jasmine about Swifty. “When I took his halter off, he looked at me like he was saying thank you. And then he was gone.” May sighed. “I’ll always miss him.”
“You did the right thing,” Corey said.
“His home is on the moor,” Jasmine said.
“I guess,” May said, but she still felt a little sad.
“You know what?” Jasmine said. “You can tell me what Swifty looks like and I’ll draw a picture of him and you can hang it on your refrigerator. That way you won’t miss him so much.”
“That would definitely help,” May said.
The three of them lay back in silence, happy to be together again.
“So what was Wilfred like?” May asked.
“He was a bit of all right,” Corey said.
May smiled. “I can see you’ve been learning English English.”
“Rather,” Jasmine said. The three of them giggled.
“His mother makes a great trifle,” said Jasmine.
“I know what a trifle is,” May said proudly. “It’s a custardy dessert.”
“Mrs. Neill’s trifles are nothing to trifle with,” said Corey.
“Oooo,” May said, “I missed those terrible Pony Tail jokes.”
“One strange thing happened,” Jasmine said. “Every night Alexander got out of Corey’s barn and went to visit Macaroni.”
“So?” May said.
“Both barn doors were closed. There was no way he could get from one barn to another,” Jasmine explained.
“Hmmm, this sounds like a case of piskies,” May said.
“You mean those bad little invisible things?” asked Corey.
“Piskies aren’t bad. They’re mischievous,” May said. “Not that I believe in them or anything.”
“Of course not,” said Co
rey.
“But if there were piskies, that’s just the kind of thing they’d do. They’d take Alexander to Macaroni’s stall to keep him company,” May said. And they’d lead a wild pony and his rider through a moor to get help for someone who was hurt, she thought.
“How would piskies get here?” Jasmine said. “Cornwall is about a million miles away.”
May grinned. “Maybe they came in Wilfred’s suitcase. Piskies need vacations, too.”
“Or maybe it was Will,” Corey said with a laugh. “He may be quiet, but he has a great sense of humor.”
“Umm,” said Jasmine, thinking about it.
“We’ll never know,” said May happily. “It’s a …”
The three Pony Tails looked at each other and said, “mystery!”
And then, since they had said the same thing at the same time, they followed an old Pony Tail custom. They gave each other high fives and said, “Jake!”
MAY’S TIPS ON WILD PONIES
When my family and I went to England, I learned a lot. I already knew what a nuisance my sisters could be, and I already knew how wonderful ponies could be, but I learned even more about both of those things.
Those wild ponies were the first wild ponies I’d ever seen. I’ll never forget them, and if you ever see wild ponies, you won’t forget them, either.
There aren’t very many wild ponies left in the world. Of course, at one time all ponies were wild. It wasn’t until people learned to train them and ride them that there was anything but wild ponies. That’s called domesticating. Today most horses and ponies are domesticated. In fact, they’ve never lived in the wild at all, and they probably couldn’t survive without people any more than your pet dog or cat could survive if you weren’t there to open the cans of food for them.
But there are still some wild ponies around, and I’ve got to tell you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite as beautiful as that herd of ponies running free on the moor in England.
In England, two different kinds of ponies can be found in the wild. There are Dartmoor ponies and Exmoor ponies. They’re similar and are probably related, but they live in different areas and do have differences. They’re about the same size, but the Dartmoor has a thicker neck and a smaller head. The Exmoor’s legs are a little shorter than the Dartmoor’s and its body is a little stockier. They’re both great riding ponies—as my trip across the moor showed me—and lots of children have learned a lot about riding with trained Dartmoor and Exmoor ponies.
May Goes to England (Pony Tails Book 11) Page 4