May frowned. “We don’t want to hurt the animals’ feelings. So we have to be sure to give them equal presents.”
“Those gerbils are really sensitive,” said Corey with a smile. Personally, she didn’t believe that the gerbils would get upset if the dogs got better presents. But she knew that May wanted to make sure every animal at CARL had a perfect Christmas.
“Folsom’s has special holiday dog biscuits,” said Jasmine. “They come with red and green ribbons.”
“How many should we get?” asked May, her pencil poised over a sheet of paper. “We want to make sure we have enough. It would be terrible if we ran out.”
They decided to get two dozen.
“How about rawhide shoes for the dogs to chew on?” said Corey.
“That would be popular, especially with the puppies,” Jasmine said.
“Folsom’s has Christmas ornaments made of seeds,” May said.
“The birds could really get into that,” said Jasmine.
“We can’t forget the animals outdoors,” May said. “If we give treats to the tame animals and not the wild ones, they’ll be jealous.”
“There’s nothing worse than a jealous raccoon,” said Jasmine with a giggle.
Corey wriggled farther back in the hay. To think that last week when school let out she had been dreading vacation. Everyone else had been singing and goofing and saying they’d see each other next year. But her stomach had been an empty pit. The days ahead had seemed endless.
Had she ever been wrong! This vacation was shaping up as the best ever. But Corey realized that she had one important decision left to make. She hadn’t decided what music to play in the background during Macaroni Madness. Maybe, she thought, it should be something sweet and soulful like “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear.” But then she thought that song was kind of slow. It was hard to chew to slow music. Maybe it should be something traditional like “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” But she was kind of tired of that song. They were always playing it at the mall. Her music should be both soulful and jolly.
She had it! “Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” The song was sad because in the beginning the other animals laughed at Rudolf for having a red nose. But it was cheerful because in the end Rudolf lit up the sky with his amazing nose. If “Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer” didn’t bring her parents back together again, nothing would.
Earlier Corey had left a message for her father telling him that she had to talk to him. She was planning to tell him that she had missed three words on a spelling test and that her schoolwork was going right down the tubes. She had missed three words on a test, but it was a fifty-word test and she’d gotten the best grade in the class. She just wasn’t planning to mention that.
Corey imagined her father walking into the house, looking worried and miserable, expecting to hear about her troubles in school, and then—surprise!—he’d smell the toasty casserole and hear the familiar strains of “Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” Within seconds his mood would change from anxious to joyful. Corey reminded herself that she still needed to talk to Jack to make sure he was there to turn off the fuse and plunge the dining room into darkness. But otherwise she was all set.
“Corey, have you heard one word we were saying?” asked May.
“Sure,” said Corey. “Kind of.”
May and Jasmine looked at each other and shook their heads. “This is important,” May said.
“Storm clouds are gathering,” Jasmine said.
“What?” asked Corey. What on earth was Jasmine talking about?
“Actual storm clouds,” said Jasmine. “A snowstorm is coming from up north.”
“A really big one,” May said. “It was on the news this morning.”
“Oh,” Corey said. “You mean everything will be covered with a blanket of snow?”
May nodded.
Corey smiled to herself. This Christmas was getting more and more perfect.
“It’s the pits,” said May grimly.
“The pits?” Corey said. “You’re complaining about snow?”
“We can’t go trail riding when it snows,” May reminded her.
Corey realized that this was true. When it snowed, the ground became slippery. The girls weren’t allowed to ride outdoors except in the Grovers’ ring, which Mr. Grover kept shoveled.
“It could be months before we ride in the fields again,” said Jasmine.
“Exactly,” said May. “So we’re going to have one last super-duper ride. I have chores to do this afternoon, and so does Jasmine. First thing tomorrow morning we’ll ride in the field behind the barn.”
“Yes!” Corey said.
“Afterward we’ll go to Folsom’s to pick up the treats for the animals,” May said.
“Tomorrow is going to be one busy day,” said Corey with a happy sigh.
From across the yard came the sound of May’s mother calling.
“Back to earth,” May said. “I’m on kitchen duty this week. I’m peeling chestnuts for the Christmas stuffing. Have you ever peeled a chestnut? I’m telling you, chestnuts are slimy.”
Grumbling, May climbed down the ladder from the hayloft. Jasmine followed her, saying, “I’m stringing cranberries for the tree.”
When Corey got home, there was a message for her on the blackboard next to the phone. It read, “Your dad called.”
“Yes!” said Corey, pumping her fist in the air.
She was about to dial her father’s number when she realized that she had better rehearse what she was going to say. She’d tell him about missing three words on the spelling test. And then she’d say she was really worried about school. And then she’d ask if he could come over the next day so that they could talk before going to the animals’ Christmas party.
Corey dialed. The phone rang one, two, three, four times.
“Hello,” came her father’s voice on the answering machine. It sounded flat and far away. “This is 555–5976. If you’d like to leave a message, please state your name and the day and time you called.”
It sounded so impersonal, as if he didn’t know who was calling.
Of course he didn’t know it was her, she thought. It was a recorded message.
Corey heard a beep on the machine and realized that she had to leave a message.
“It’s me,” Corey said. “I keep calling when you’re gone. I’ve got this big problem. I missed three words on a spelling test. And it was a big test. I’m really worried. You miss three words, next thing you know you’ve missed five, then ten.” She took a deep breath. The message was getting longer and longer without getting anywhere. “It’s time for a family conference,” she said. “How about six tomorrow?”
She put the phone down. That was, she figured, one of the dumbest phone messages ever.
Jack came into the kitchen, carrying a kitten with a bandaged tail. Usually Corey would have had a million questions about the kitten. But right now she had something else on her mind.
“I have an idea about what you can give me for Christmas,” she said.
Jack’s face lit up. “Hey, great.”
“I’ve got this special party planned,” Corey explained. “I need your help.”
“No problem,” said Jack. “What can I do?”
“I need you to turn off the fuse for the dining room lights at precisely six-fifteen tomorrow,” she said.
Jack looked down at the kitten and then at Corey. She could tell he was wondering what was going on.
“I don’t get it,” he said.
“It’s kind of a joke,” she said.
“Tomorrow is Kelly’s birthday,” Jack said. “I told her I’d take her skating at six. I hate to disappoint her.” Kelly was Jack’s girlfriend.
“Take her at seven,” Corey said. “You can skate by moonlight.”
“Then we’ll miss the animals’ Christmas party at CARL,” Jack said.
“Go earlier in the day,” Corey said.
“I have to work,” Jack said. He scratched his head. �
��I’d really like to help you, Corey. I’ll try to change my plans, but it may be hard.”
4 Wild Ride
When Corey woke the next day, it was still dark. Not semi-dark, but dark, dark, dark. Trying to stay under the covers, she wiggled toward the bedside table so that she could look at the clock.
It was breakfast time. How could it be so late and still be dark? Then she remembered that two days before had been the shortest day of the year. These days the sun rose late and set early.
Corey put on a pair of blue wool breeches, a yellow sweater, and her warm riding jacket. She put on a pair of extra-heavy wool socks and roomy riding boots. Wearing so many layers, she felt like a stuffed toy.
Jack was in the kitchen, making a pan of rice and broth for a sick animal.
“I feel really bad about this, Corey,” he said. “I can’t change my schedule.”
“That’s terrible,” Corey said. “Without you my party is ruined.”
“This time of year there’s so much to do,” Jack said with an apologetic shrug. “I’m really sorry.”
“If you’re too busy, you’re too busy,” Corey snapped.
Jack stopped stirring the rice. “What’s up, Corey?”
“Nothing,” she said.
“Do you want to talk?” Jack said.
“No way,” she said.
Corey poured herself a bowl of granola because she knew that today she would need a lot of energy. She hunted in the refrigerator for some fruit and found a peach. She sliced it over the granola, added milk, and started eating around the edge of the bowl. This was her special way of eating cereal. May plunged into cereal any which way. Jasmine was a slow nibbler.
Corey ate a slice of peach. It was crisp. It wasn’t like a juicy summer peach. But the weather outside was crisp, so it made sense for the peach to be crisp.
The phone rang.
Jack answered it. “It’s your dad,” he said.
Corey’s stomach turned over. Great things were about to happen. She ran to the phone. “Did you get my message?”
“Kind of,” her father said. “I got it, but I didn’t really understand it. Since when are you having trouble in school, Corey? It doesn’t sound like you.”
His simple, quiet question froze her. All her stories about sinking to the bottom of the class died inside her. “Uhh,” she said.
“Is it about something else?” her father asked in his gentle voice.
Corey’s eyes stung with tears. “No. Yes.” She could feel a howl of misery rising inside her. She swallowed to make it stop. “I thought we could have dinner. Like old times. Macaroni and cheese.” She took a deep breath. Before her, as bright as if it were real, hung a picture of a bubbly casserole of macaroni and cheese. “I’ve got this gourmet cheese,” she said. “It’s zingy, but not too zingy.”
“Does your mother know about this?” her father said.
Questions! Why were there so many questions?
“It’s a surprise,” Corey said.
There was a silence on the other end of the phone. Corey knew that her dad was thinking. Finally he said, “At a time like this … when things are changing … surprises are maybe too surprising.” He cleared his throat. “If that makes any sense.” Corey could see her father as clearly as if he were sitting in front of her. His dark eyes looked worried, and he was rubbing a finger on his chin, the way he did when he was upset.
“Forget it,” Corey said. “Just forget it. I mean forget it.” She slammed the phone onto the wall hook.
“Hey, Corey.” Jack came over and put an arm around her. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Corey stomped out of the kitchen into the mudroom and closed the door. There she was in the mudroom, staring at a lot of boots. That was brilliant. She opened the door and stepped outside.
She could smell the wind. It had a damp, snowy smell. Corey looked up and saw gray clouds flying southward.
Suddenly she wanted to be gone. She wanted to be far, far away. She went to the barn. Her pony, Samurai, was in his stall, half asleep. “We need a ride,” she said.
Sam yawned.
Corey couldn’t ride by herself. She went into the tack room and got Sam’s grooming equipment. She would give Sam a long grooming while she waited for Jasmine and May.
“You are going to be the shiniest pony that ever lived,” she said to Sam as she washed his hooves.
Half an hour later Sam was ready for a pony show. The only problem was that there was no show.
Corey was leaning against the side of the stall, wondering whether she should braid Sam’s mane, when she heard someone outside.
“I didn’t know we were going for a midnight ride,” May said. Corey turned. May’s jacket was buttoned wrong, and her hair was half combed. “I was sound asleep when I heard you,” May said.
“It’s practically lunchtime,” Corey snapped. “If we don’t hurry, we’ll never get to Folsom’s before noon.”
“Errrf,” said May. She looked at her watch. “I was planning to sleep late.”
Jasmine appeared. She had toothpaste on her chin. Jasmine was usually very neat. Corey had never seen toothpaste on her face before.
“Am I awake, or is this a bad dream?” Jasmine groaned.
“Go back to bed,” Corey said grumpily. “Enjoy your rest.”
“Hey, it’s a wonderful morning for a ride,” May said. Corey could tell she was trying to be cheerful.
“Absolutely,” said Jasmine.
“Yeah, right,” Corey muttered.
May and Jasmine went to get their ponies groomed and saddled. Corey gave Sam one more grooming. He looked at her over his shoulder as if to say enough was enough.
By the time Corey got to the Grovers’ paddock, May was sitting on Macaroni and Jasmine was sitting on Outlaw. All four of them looked as if they were about to go back to sleep.
“We don’t have to do this,” Corey said.
“Yes, we do,” May said. “It’s a Pony Tail pledge.”
May opened the gate so that the girls could ride into the field.
Corey went first. The field was lumpy and bare with tufts of yellow grass. She passed an apple tree with withered red apples that were the only spots of color in the brown landscape.
Winter is bare, Corey thought. It’s like a blanket with no fuzz on it.
On the left a broken thistle flapped in the wind. This ride wasn’t making Corey feel better. It was making her feel worse.
Maybe she’d feel better if they trotted. “Want to trot?” she called. When the girls were riding without a grown-up they were allowed to trot, but they weren’t allowed to go any faster.
“Why not?” called May.
“No problem,” said Jasmine.
Corey pressed her knees to Sam’s sides. He started to trot, but it was a slow, sleepy trot. Usually Sam arched his neck and lifted his hooves high. Now he seemed to be wondering how soon he could get back to the barn.
“Come on, Sam. Show some zip,” Corey said. She touched his flanks lightly with her heels.
Sam shook his head, a sign that he was annoyed. He began to trot faster, but it wasn’t his usual smooth rocking trot. He jolted from spot to spot without a steady rhythm.
“Settle down,” Corey said.
Sam snorted.
“Everyone’s grumpy,” Corey said to herself.
Sam’s left hoof caught a mound of grass and he lost his rhythm entirely, skittering forward like a chicken.
“Honestly,” Corey said. “It’s a good thing Max can’t see us.” Max Regnery was the owner of Pine Hollow Stables, and the Pony Tails’ riding teacher.
Sam put his head down. She could tell he was concentrating on his trot, trying to get the rhythm right. His steps got slower and slower until he was almost walking.
“Come on, Sam,” Corey said. She gave him a kick.
Sam began to trot as fast as he could. It was almost like a run, with hard, fast steps.
“Hey,” came May’s voice from behind. �
�What’s the rush?”
They came to a tree with dried leaves trembling on its branches. Sam trotted by without looking.
Something black and shiny and huge burst out of the tree; brushing Corey’s face. She let out a yell. It was a crow. The bird flew past Sam’s head, spooking him.
Sam ran. His hooves smacked the hard ground. Corey slid sideways in the saddle. She saw a pointy white rock coming at her. She pulled on Sam’s mane with all her might.
She slid upright in the saddle with arms and legs flapping.
Sam whinnied with fear. He put his head down and ran all out. She could hear his breath gasping in his throat. Something blew back in her face. It was foam from his neck.
In her mind Corey could hear Max saying, “Never let a pony run too fast. You can break his wind.” Corey had once seen a pony with broken wind. When he tried to gallop he made a horrible rasping sound.
“Sam!” she yelled. “Please! Please!” She knew she shouldn’t be yelling. She knew she should be calm and self-assured. But she was too scared.
The ground was a silvery blur. She felt as if she were flying into the clouds.
All she could hear was the steady thudding of her bottom on the saddle and the rattle of Sam’s breath.
Tears streamed out of the corners of her eyes. She felt like sobbing. But in her mind she saw Max’s bright blue eyes. She could see him nodding. Max was telling her she could do it.
Corey forced her hands to unclench. She forced her back to unfreeze. She tried to ride with Sam and not against him.
“It’s okay, Sam,” she said.
Her words were blown back in the wind. Sam couldn’t hear her. But he must have felt a change. There was a sigh inside his gallop. Something eased.
Corey put her heels down and her wrists up. Sam was still galloping, but she could feel his muscles relaxing. Without being asked, he slowed to a canter. Corey rose in the stirrups so that her bottom was a couple of inches off the saddle.
Sam moved down to a trot, and then to a walk. Corey looked back. May and Jasmine were tiny shapes against the gray sky.
“Did I hurt you, Sam?” asked Corey as the pony came to a halt.
Pony Tails 15- Corey's Christmas Wish Page 2