“Oh!” Carole said, suddenly getting it. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink, and as long as he isn’t getting dehydrated, leave him alone. That had been easy. Next, she wanted to know how Mrs. Reg had known to give her that message right then.
STEVIE BOUNDED OUT of bed on Saturday morning. This was The Day! It was the day her Pony Club’s polocrosse team would have a chance to show Phil Marston’s team a thing or two—or meet total humiliation and defeat.
She went to the other window of her room. It was a bright and sunny spring day. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Stevie’s heart sank. She’d been dreaming all night that it would be pouring rain. Deep down, she had the worst feeling that the only way to avoid total humiliation would be for the match to be rained out.
Quickly, she swept the thought from her mind. That was a loser’s way of thinking and would do her no good at all.
She washed and dressed and then went to the phone. One of the things she had to be sure of was that her best friends—and the Pony Club’s best riders—would be there.
Unfortunately, she found that she woke up both Lisa and Carole, to say nothing of their parents. More than a little annoyed, they assured Stevie they did plan to be there and they would be on time. Stevie looked at her clock. It was seven-fifteen. She admitted to herself that maybe that was just a little bit early for a phone call on Saturday morning.
She took her polocrosse rule book, went down to the kitchen, and poured herself a bowl of cereal. She combed through the booklet to be sure she understood everything. The last thing she and her team needed was to commit fouls just because they didn’t read this.
“SHE CALLED ME at seven-fifteen. What time did she call you?” Lisa asked Carole.
“Seven-ten. It’s a good thing my father really likes her, too, because otherwise he would have hung up on her.”
“And then she called again at eight-twenty to tell me that the only way you can try to get a ball out of an opponent’s racquet is to hit the stick with an upward stroke,” Lisa said.
“Did she tell you about left-handed players? That the team captain has to notify the opposing captain and the umpires in the event any of the players will be playing left-handed? I got that call at eight-thirty.”
“But we don’t have any left-handed players, do we?”
“Not anymore,” Carole said. “Lorraine Olsen is left-handed, but she couldn’t take Stevie’s bullying and dropped out.”
“I can’t say that I blame her,” Lisa said.
“It’s tempting, isn’t it?” Carole asked.
“I just keep reminding myself that Stevie’s got this bright idea and it has to do with Phil and we should try to be understanding. After all, she is our best friend. And once the game is over, everything will change back. Won’t it?”
“I hope so,” Carole said. “I certainly hope so. And so does my dad.”
“Horse Wise will now come to order in Max’s office!” the P. A. barked, ending their conversation. They joined their teammates and the rest of the club in Max’s office.
“You all know we’re going to have a match today,” Max began. “I want to tell you it’s not a particularly important match. We’re new at polocrosse and so is Cross County. Winning is nice, but playing our best is more important. We have all been working hard this week, and I know that we will do well, which doesn’t always mean succeeding on the scoreboard. I want to wish all of the players good luck and to assure you that the rest of us will be on the sidelines cheering like crazy.”
Carole thought Max’s talk was just right. After all, they were there to have fun as much as to do well. She hoped that his words would have an effect on Stevie and help her to put the day into perspective.
“Can I say something, Max?” Stevie asked.
A look of doubt crossed Max’s face, but he nodded his assent. Stevie stood up.
“I know I’ve been mean and awful this week.” She paused because everybody was laughing. She probably didn’t realize how true her words were. “I guess I’ve yelled at a few of you here.”
Everybody’s hand went up. Stevie seemed genuinely surprised, but had the grace to laugh. Carole thought the direction Stevie was taking was positively refreshing. It was hard to believe it was the same girl who’d called her twice before breakfast with “tips” for success.
“Well, it’s true,” she confessed. “Anyway, what happened, between the couple of practices we had, is that we got better. So, although it wasn’t much fun, it worked and I’m beginning to get the feeling that we can really show those kids from Cross County who can play polocrosse and who can’t. Let’s go for it!”
A few of the Pony Clubbers started clapping. Stevie had turned the meeting into a pep rally and, Carole thought, maybe that wasn’t a bad idea. After all, unpleasant as Stevie had been, they had learned some things. Maybe they did have a chance. Maybe.
The Cross County Pony Club was arriving at Pine Hollow with all its members and their horse vans by the time the Horse Wise members filed out of Max’s office. Max greeted Mr. Baker, their instructor, and all the parent volunteers shook hands with one another and introduced themselves.
The Pony Clubbers stood apart and regarded one another warily. Stevie stood at the front of the pack of Horse Wise, Phil at the front of Cross County.
“Hi, Stevie,” Phil said.
“Hello,” Stevie returned.
Carole noticed that it was almost as if the two of them had never met before. The awkward moment passed quickly, though, because it was time for the teams to tack up and saddle up.
There were six players from Horse Wise. The agreement was that, just before the game began, they would draw numbers to determine squads and positions. Max showed them the cards. They read 1A, 2A, and 3A and 1B, 2B, and 3B. That would determine the A squad and the B squad and which position, Attack, Center, or Defense, would be played.
Max held out the hat with the cards for Horse Wise. Mr. Baker did the same for Cross County’s team of six.
Carole unfolded her slip of paper. It read 3A. She showed it to her friends as they opened theirs. Somehow, it worked. The Saddle Club was on the same squad. Stevie was the Attack, Lisa the Center, and Carole the Defense. They would be playing at the same time. According to what Max said, the A squads would play the first and third chukkas, the B squads would play second and fourth.
“We’ll have a chance to draw first blood!”
So much for Stevie’s change of heart.
Stevie, Lisa, and Carole lined up across from Phil and two of his teammates, waiting for the umpire, Max, to toss in the ball, beginning the first six-minute chukka.
“Begin play!” Max announced. He threw the ball right between the rows of riders.
Phil picked it up first. He was the Attack for his team. He tossed it to his Center. Stevie was closest to the Center. She rode after him, reaching across the Center’s horse to try to hit the Center’s stick from below.
“Foul!”
Play stopped.
“Stevie, you can’t reach across another rider’s horse to try to get the ball out of an opponent’s racquet,” Max said.
“Oh, yeah,” Stevie said, recalling the rule she’d read that very morning.
“Penalty free throw!” he announced.
The Cross County Center took the ball, tossed it to Phil across the penalty line, and he neatly tossed it right through the goalposts.
“Score!” Max called out.
“Huh?” Stevie said. It had happened so fast. First she’d made a mistake, then Phil’s team had scored. Her own team hadn’t even tried to defend against the goal attempt.
“Carole!” Stevie shrieked in anger. “What were you doing? You should have been there, and stopped it!”
“One nothing. Let’s begin play!”
This time, Lisa managed to swat her racquet at the ball as it whizzed toward her. She did succeed in getting it down onto the ground, just in time for Cross County’s Defense player to pick it up a
nd pass it to their Center.
Carole saw trouble coming and headed for the goal area as fast as possible. Since Attack probably wasn’t going to be a very important part of this game for her team, she suspected most of the work would be done by her as Defense—and not necessarily well.
She galloped Starlight down to the goal she was to defend, placed herself within the eleven-yard semicircle that surrounded the goal, and prepared for Phil’s attack.
Preparation didn’t do her much good. Carole admired the way Phil handled his horse with one hand and his racquet with the other, easily dribbling the ball down the field, dodging the ineffectual efforts of her teammates to stop his progress. Just before he reached the penalty line, he picked up the ball, bounced it over the line, picked it up again, and tossed it right between the goalposts.
“Score!” Max called out.
Carole was stunned at the speed with which the goal was made. Phil was really good.
“Did you see that?” she asked Stevie before she had a chance to explode. “He’s really good—and smooth! I can’t wait to have a chance to try to do what he was doing. I like that technique!”
Stevie glared at her. “If we don’t ever get the ball away from them, none of us will ever have a chance to try their techniques, much less hope to score!”
“Begin play!” Max called out to his riders. The Saddle Club returned to the middle of the field to try again.
This time, Phil got the ball on the toss-in. Carole attacked him immediately, head-on, swiped her stick upward, and the ball went careening out of his racquet. Carole was really pleased with herself. That was good technique.
“Way to go!” Lisa called over to her. With that, the ball landed on the ground near Lisa. She leaned down to pick it up, but not before the other team’s Defense swooped across the field, scooped up the ball, and tossed it to Phil, who caught it in his racquet.
Things went downhill from there. By the end of the six-minute chukka, The Saddle Club girls had committed four more fouls (three of which resulted in goals for Phil’s team), three tactical errors (like throwing it through the wrong goal), and innumerable misses, near-misses, and just plain dumb mistakes.
“End of the chukka. Score: Cross County 9, Horse Wise 0.”
Stevie groaned.
“Think of it this way, Stevie,” Carole said, trying to console her. “Because it’s our first game, we’re just playing four chukkas. We’ve finished one and it’s nine to nothing. So, probably the worst it can be when we’re done is thirty-six-zip. If we were going to play six chukkas—why, they could run the score up to fifty-four!”
“Shut up,” Stevie said. There was murder in her eyes.
Carole took her advice.
The second chukka, played by the B teams, wasn’t quite as bad. Horse Wise actually scored a goal, though it was because the ball bounced off the Cross County Center’s racquet and traveled between the goal posts. The score at the end of the second chukka was 16–1.
“Let’s go for it!” Lisa said eagerly, trying to inspire her A teammates as they returned to the field.
Stevie glared at her.
Carole would have given Lisa support, but someone caught her eye. Marie Dana and her mother were standing by the fence at the edge of the field. Could it be possible that she’d decided to try riding? Or were they just curious as they passed by? Perhaps Marie had been enticed by the showy riding Carole had done in her backyard.
Carole didn’t know which it was and it didn’t matter. The fact was that Marie was there. That was enough to inspire Carole.
“Stand back, world!” Carole announced, bounding onto the playing field.
“Begin play!” Max called out, tossing the ball to the players.
The third chukka wasn’t as bad as the first two, but it wasn’t good enough for Horse Wise to make any progress in scoring. They did make a little bit of progress in defense. Carole actually stopped two almost-certain goal shots and she was able to toss the ball more or less in the direction of her teammates. Her teammates were more or less able to track down her throws successfully and even managed to pass the ball between themselves a few times, though not as many times as the Cross County players. They managed to do it more often and better. They even managed to score, six times.
“Twenty-two to one!” Max announced at the end of the chukka.
“Gee, next time, maybe we should opt for four-minute chukkas,” Stevie said angrily.
Carole barely heard her. As she rode toward the edge of the playing field, she saw that Marie was walking away—headed for her car. Carole couldn’t let her just leave. She had to talk to her!
Carole handed Starlight’s reins to one surprised Pony Clubber and ran after Marie.
“Hey, don’t go!” Carole called to her. “Wait! I want to talk to you!”
Mrs. Dana paused and waved to Carole. Marie didn’t turn around. She just moved slowly, awkwardly, toward her car.
“IT’S OKAY,” CAROLE said, catching up to Marie. “I know how bad we were. You don’t need to be embarrassed by it. You won’t have to say anything nice to me about our play—not even the goal I made for the other team.”
Marie laughed in spite of herself. “It’s not that,” she said.
“I was joking,” Carole said. “That’s the first time we ever played the game. It won’t be so awful next time.”
There was a twinkle in Marie’s eyes. “If they’ve agreed to play with you again, it must be to bolster their confidence. I can see their schedule now: Lose one. Play one against Horse Wise. Lose one. Play one against Horse Wise.”
“Very funny,” Carole said. And it was kind of funny.
“But the good news is that you’re here. Are you going to take lessons? Let me introduce you to Max …”
Marie seemed uncomfortable then—as if she wasn’t ready to talk or decide. “We were just passing by,” she began. “Mom saw you guys riding. I thought it would be okay if we watched. That’s all.” She turned to finish her walk toward the car.
“But that means you haven’t paid the entry fee yet, then, have you?”
“Entry fee?” Marie asked. “You mean there was a charge for watching that game?”
“Well, sure,” Carole told her. “The charge is that all curious onlookers have to have the grand tour of the whole stable. You’ve got time now, don’t you?”
For a second, Marie just stared at Carole.
“All right. You win,” Marie said. “But I’m a really slow walker these days. This could take a while and I might get tired.”
The last thing Carole wanted was to have Marie decide she was too tired to finish the grand tour. Then Carole realized she could kill two birds with one stone. She could make sure Marie wouldn’t get tired, and she could tempt her with some horseback-riding experience. “You know, we don’t have any wheelchairs around here, but we do have a way of getting people around without walking. Why don’t you wait here for just a few minutes …”
Carole was gone before Marie could protest or change her mind. First, Carole fetched Starlight to park him in his stall until she could untack him. Then, she had a brief word with Max, who agreed with her plan, only because he trusted her judgment, he told her. Then she found Lisa, enlisted her help, and put her plan in action. Then minutes after she’d left Marie, she and Lisa returned, leading Nickel. Nickel was one of Pine Hollow’s ponies. He was small enough to be easy to mount, even for somebody with weak legs, and he was gentle enough for anybody to ride, even somebody who wouldn’t be able to control him well.
“I’d like to introduce you to Pine Hollow’s answer to barrier free. His name is Nickel.”
The steel-gray pony looked curiously at Marie. Carole gave Marie a carrot to give to Nickel.
“It’s a good way to break the ice,” she explained. Then she showed her how to feed it to Nickel. “Put the carrot on your hand and hold it out to him with your fingers flat. You don’t want a horse to mistake a finger for a tasty bit of carrot.”
M
arie followed Carole’s instructions. Nickel glanced at the offered hand and sniffed. Then, he picked up the carrot with his soft lips and munched. The smile on Marie’s face told Carole everything she needed to know. She might have been part of a miserable loss in polocrosse that day, but everybody was going to win this tougher—and much more important—challenge.
“Ready?” Carole asked. Marie nodded. Together, with the help of Lisa and the guidance of Mrs. Dana, they got Marie into Nickel’s saddle. It took a while to adjust the stirrups to a level that was comfortable, but Carole was patient and Marie was willing to have the fuss made. Carole sensed that Marie was just plain enjoying being on horseback and that’s what this was really all about.
Then, as they were about to begin the tour, Carole saw her father and heard him call her. The tone in his voice wasn’t happy. As soon as he spotted her, her marched toward her in his most military Marine Corps stride.
“Can you explain why it is I just saw your horse in his stall with all his tack on fully fifteen minutes after the end of the game?” he demanded.
Colonel Hanson was one of the Horse Wise parent volunteers. He took the job seriously and he was willing to help the riders learn—even when it meant speaking sharply to his daughter. There was a reason she’d left Starlight tacked up and Carole was about to explain it to her father. First, though, she introduced him to Marie. As she introduced him to Mrs. Dana, Carole remembered how interested he’d been to learn about the woman when they were at the hospital.
Carole then explained about showing Marie around, and that the tour included an untacking demonstration at Starlight’s stall.
“Okay, okay,” Colonel Hanson said. “Go on ahead. I’ll show Mrs. Dana some things, too.” He offered Marie’s mother his arm gallantly. She took it.
“Please, call me Olivia.”
“And I’m Mitch,” he said. Off they went.
Carole, Lisa, and Marie headed for the stable. Their first stop was Starlight’s stall.
“It’s not that leaving his tack on is harmful so much as it’s not really fair,” Carole explained as she removed the saddle. “I had loosened the girth so he wasn’t uncomfortable. Still, his work is over and he deserves a real rest.”
Horse Games Page 4