While they walked Patch to his stall, Lisa looked around her. There were stalls on either side of the long skylit passageway. Each stall had a window on the outside with a door-gate three-quarters high—just high enough for the horses to look over. The horses watched Lisa and Carole passing them with Patch.
“Horses are curious animals. They like to be able to see what’s going on,” Carole said. “That’s why stalls always have windows and doors the horses can see over.”
Carole slid open the door to Patch’s stall and led him in. She handed Lisa the reins to hold while she loosened the girth on the saddle. Lisa looked in Patch’s eyes, expecting to see some resentment. There was none. The horse’s dark eyes seemed almost sleepy and certainly contented. Lisa patted Patch’s soft nose tentatively.
“You’ll be riding him in class,” Carole explained. “It’s easier to leave the tack on him, and he doesn’t mind, as long as he can get some water.” Carole checked to be sure there was fresh water. She slipped a halter over his bridle and snapped ties on either side of the halter so he couldn’t roll in his stall and tangle his tack. Then she patted Patch on the neck and the two girls left the stall, sliding the door closed and locking it behind them. Lisa noticed that the stall had a standard sliding latch as well as a key chain-type clip.
“Is that really necessary?” Lisa asked.
“Just watch,” Carole said. As if on cue, Patch stuck his head out over the top of his door and began nuzzling the sliding latch. Within seconds, the horse had grasped the bolt and was working at it. “Horses are natural door openers. Never give one a chance—he’ll take it, and you’ll be in big trouble. Okay, next stop is the tack room.”
Just then, a nearby stall door slid closed and was latched. Carole tried to lead Lisa past the girl who had emerged from the stall, but the girl’s look was commanding.
“Lisa Atwood, this is Veronica diAngelo,” Carole said, introducing her to the pretty girl with smooth black hair. “She’s the—”
Veronica interrupted Carole. “So you’re the new student!” she said.
It surprised Lisa that anybody knew she was there. She didn’t know what to say to Veronica, so she just stood there awkwardly while Veronica’s eyes took her in. It took only a few seconds. Lisa felt as if she were being analyzed by some twenty-third-century ultrabeam. When Veronica’s smile warmed from automatic to sincere, Lisa knew she’d passed. She didn’t know why.
“How’s Cobalt?” Carole asked, gesturing toward the horse behind Veronica. Lisa turned to look. Even with her untrained eye, she knew this regal-looking horse was special. His shiny coat was coal-black. His bright eyes sparkled and his head nodded invitingly. Carole walked over and rubbed his forehead affectionately.
“He’s fine, as you can seé,” Veronica said offhandedly. “Would you like to exercise him tomorrow?” Carole nodded eagerly. “Good. Then let’s talk after class to make arrangements.” There was something almost threatening in Veronica’s voice, Lisa thought, but she couldn’t imagine why that would be. Carole seemed so nice. Veronica turned to Lisa. “I’ll see you in class,” Veronica said, and walked off.
The girls continued along the hallway toward the tack room. As they progressed, they met some of the other students, but it all happened so fast, Lisa couldn’t remember any of their names until Stevie Lake came running up to them.
“Carole!” she cried. “I’ve got to talk to you!”
Carole grinned at her irrepressible friend. “This is Stevie Lake,” she told Lisa. “And Stevie, meet Lisa Atwood, who’s joining our class.”
“Oh, right, the new girl,” Stevie said. Lisa wondered how she had known. Could she have been the one—
“What’s so exciting?” Carole asked Stevie, interrupting Lisa’s thoughts. Stevie jumped right into a long explanation about her parents and her grades at school. Lisa realized that she knew the Lakes. They lived in her neighborhood—at the nicest end of it. They had a big house on the corner with a pool in the back yard.
She’d seen Stevie around, but she’d never met her. Stevie went to a private girls’ school in the neighboring town. Because Lisa knew their house, and knew that Stevie went to the exclusive school, she knew the Lakes were fairly wealthy, but she never could have guessed it by looking at Stevie. Stevie was wearing an old, worn pair of jeans and some cowboy boots that looked as if they’d seen better days—lots of them. Stevie caught her eye. Embarrassed, Lisa looked away. She realized she’d been looking at Stevie almost the same way Veronica had looked at her. She didn’t want to be rude to Stevie. In fact, Lisa thought Stevie was funny and seemed like a lot of fun.
“I think I’ll die if I can’t go on the trip!” Stevie exclaimed. “I mean, I’ve already chosen the jeans I’m taking and I’ve been having dreams about campfires and mountain trails for months! Right? You have, too.” Carole nodded. “So, anyway, I’ve got this scheme—I know, I always have a scheme, right? But this one’ll work. It’ll make me a fortune. I’ll never have to do another math project as long as I live!” Then, without taking a breath, Stevie switched gears. “Look, I’ll tell you all about everything later,” Stevie went on. “I’ve got to groom Comanche before class. Welcome to Pine Hollow, Lisa. You’re going to love it. This place is just full of traditions.” And before Lisa could ask her what she meant, Stevie disappeared into one of the stalls. Lisa laughed to herself. She’d like to be Stevie’s friend, but if it meant following crazy conversations like that, it could be exhausting!
“Is she always like that?” Lisa asked.
“Always,” Carole assured her, smiling broadly.
But somebody like Stevie could be the kind of person who would slam a door when Patch was in the ring. What kind of friend was that?
“Coming?” Carole asked Lisa. “Tack room’s this way.” Obediently, Lisa followed her to the end of the corridor.
The first thing Lisa noticed in the tack room was that it appeared to be very disorganized. Endless tangles of leather straps hung on the wall, and saddles seemed to be everywhere. The second thing she noticed was the smell. The rich, pungent leather smell mingled with the earthy smell of the horses themselves. She breathed deeply.
“It’s great, isn’t it?” Carole asked her.
Lisa nodded, smiling. “But how do you know what tack to take for each horse?” she asked.
“Oh, it’s all completely organized,” Carole assured her. “You just have to get used to the system. Also, in here are hard hats for riders who don’t have their own like you do.” Carole pointed to a large wall where about forty black velvet-covered hard hats of all different sizes hung on nails. Lisa stared at the wall for a second. Carole did a double take.
The hats weren’t just hanging on the wall. They were, in fact, carefully arranged so that they spelled “MTO!” Carole burst out laughing.
“What’s that?” Lisa asked.
“That’s Stevie,” Carole said as if it were an answer to the question. “What I mean is that Stevie did it. She’s always doing fun things like that. She thinks that the hat wall is a sort of message board, too. Anyway, MTO stands for Mountain Trail Overnight, which is an overnight horseback trip next month. You’ll hear more about it soon. Stevie’s excited about it already. Actually, so am I.”
Lisa wondered if she’d be able to go on such a trip. Would she want to? Would her mother let her go? It seemed odd to Lisa to realize that only a half an hour ago, she was dreading climbing on a horse, and now, after one hair-raising ride, she was already thinking about an overnight trail ride. But she didn’t have much of a chance to think about it anymore. Carole was all business on her tour of the tack room.
Carole showed Lisa the tack she had soaped earlier, which they would now put on Delilah, the horse Carole would ride in class.
“Delilah—that’s a funny name.” Lisa laughed.
“Wait’ll you see her,” Carole said, leading her back out to the row of stalls. This hall was on the other leg of the U from where Patch was stalled. Delilah, it turned
out, was a luscious creamy palomino with a long silvery mane. Her name really fit her. She looked like a flirt. But she didn’t act like one. She was clearly a high-strung creature and nervous around strangers. It didn’t seem to bother Carole, though. She patiently went about her business.
In the next fifteen minutes, Carole showed Lisa how to put a bridle and a saddle on a horse. It seemed impossibly complicated to Lisa.
“I’m never going to remember the difference between the crownpiece and the headband—to say nothing of the cheek strap and the throatlatch!” she groaned.
“Oh, sure you are,” Carole consoled her. “See, you already know their names. That’s half the battle. Besides, the horses are pretty used to this process so they don’t make a fuss. As long as you need help, one of us will give it to you. Then, when you don’t need help anymore, you’ll be able to give it to another new student.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.”
“It’s one of the traditions around here, Lisa,” Carole told her patiently. “We all help out. We help the stable and we help each other. It’s a good way to learn. And, it helps keep the costs down.”
“Oh, it’s not that I wouldn’t help another girl,” Lisa said quickly. “It’s just that I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to live up to that tradition!”
That was the second time Lisa had heard the word tradition. She had the feeling she would hear it often at Pine Hollow. But she did wonder how far one had to go to help other riders. Lisa was almost certain Carole knew who had slammed the door and frightened Patch. Why was she being so closemouthed about it? Who was she helping?
“You almost done in there?” Stevie Lake asked, peering into Delilah’s stall, interrupting Lisa’s thoughts.
“Almost,” Carole said. “But do me a favor, huh? Can you get Patch ready for class and bring him to the mounting area for Lisa?”
“Sure,” Stevie said agreeably.
Stevie left and Carole showed Lisa how to tighten the horse’s girth—the “belt” that held the saddle in place. Delilah didn’t like it at all. First, she’d take in a big breath so that when she let it out, the saddle was too loose. Then, she’d step away from Carole or bob her big head up and down. She even got Lisa cornered in her stall. Lisa was frightened, but Carole took it all in stride. As many times as Delilah tried to cause trouble, Carole spoke sharply to her and proceeded to tighten the girth. After six tries, the job was done.
It reminded Lisa of what it was like to look after her little cousins, ages two and four. She didn’t much like doing that.
Finally, Carole led Delilah and Lisa to the mounting block in the outdoor ring. Patch was fastened to the fence, waiting for Lisa. She eyed him uneasily, but he seemed unconcerned. Lisa decided she should be, too—until she realized that she and Carole were practically the last ones ready for class. Max was across the ring, helping one student tighten the girth on her horse. Everybody else was looking at them. Lisa really didn’t want everybody to watch her get back on the horse, but there was no way around it. She looked to Carole for instruction.
“Okay, here’s what you do,” Carole said. “First, see that horseshoe nailed on the wall?” Lisa saw it and nodded. “Well, that’s one of our traditions here. It’s the good-luck horseshoe. You have to touch it with your right hand before you mount your horse. Nobody has ever been badly hurt at Pine Hollow and the tradition is that it’s because of the good-luck horseshoe.” With that, Carole brushed the worn horseshoe with her right hand. Then, smoothly, she swept onto Delilah.
It was such a simple motion, done so gracefully, Lisa thought. She could do it, too. Mimicking Carole’s gesture, she touched the horseshoe. Then, she held the reins in her left hand and prepared to mount, uncomfortably aware of the eyes that stared at her.
Something was wrong. She raised her left leg to where the stirrup ought to have been and tried to lift herself up, but it didn’t work. Because there wasn’t any stirrup there. Nothing to step on, nothing to hold her foot. She tried jumping up, but the horse was too high. She tried pulling herself up by the saddle, but that didn’t work either because she couldn’t get a good grip. She stared helplessly at the impossible task, tears welling in her eyes.
That was when she heard the first spurt of laughter. Through the blurry tears of frustration, she looked at the girls in the class around her. Each seemed to be smirking, some giggling, and one, openly laughing. Lisa’s eyes met Stevie’s. Stevie tried to control her laughter to meet Lisa’s stare with mock seriousness. But her mirth bubbled over and she tried to smother her giggles by putting her hand over her mouth.
Lisa was beginning to get the feeling that there were some traditions at Pine Hollow that she wasn’t going to like at all.
“NOW, LISA,” MAX called firmly from the center of the ring, “I want you to sit more forward in the saddle. Tighten up on your reins. Don’t lean forward. Relax your calf muscles. Heels down!”
Lisa tried, but following five directions at once wasn’t easy.
“Shoulders back! And don’t point your toes out. But relax those muscles!”
Make that eight directions at once. Lisa sighed. Things seemed to have gone from bad to worse ever since Carole had helped her replace her stirrups and she’d mounted Patch. She’d never make it as a rider and she didn’t think she’d want to. In fact, she’d never wanted to. It was her mother who wanted her to ride. Lisa decided that her mother could take the lessons from then on.
At last, Max focused his attention on someone else. Lisa could relax now that she was out of the spot-light. She looked around at the six other riders in the ring. Besides Carole and Veronica, there were Polly Giacomin, Betsy Cavanaugh, Meg Durham, and, of course, Stevie Lake.
Lisa could still feel the pain of Stevie’s laughter after she’d intentionally left the stirrups off Patch. Lisa thought the kind of girl who would play such a mean trick on her was also the kind of girl who would slam a door when Patch was in the ring. After all, Carole and Stevie were good friends, so that explained why Carole wouldn’t tell Lisa that Stevie had caused Patch to run wild. Lisa promised herself that she’d get even with Stevie. She had no idea how, or when, but she knew the time would come, and she’d be ready when it did.
“Okay, now, pair up!” Max called to all the riders. That meant that they were to begin riding two by two.
“Isn’t this just the most fun?” Betsy asked Lisa as she brought her horse next to Lisa and Patch. “I love horses!” Lisa really couldn’t think of an answer so she stared straight ahead.
“Good, Lisa. Much better,” Max said. She liked the compliment, but Lisa had no more idea of what she was doing right than of what she’d been doing wrong.
USUALLY, STEVIE HATED it when Max had the class walk and then trot two by two. It meant the end of the class was near and she’d have to stop riding soon. But today, she didn’t care so much because her mind was filled with plans. Before class, she’d talked to one of her neighbors about earning money and she had her first assignment: pool cleaning.
Also, she had to tell Carole about her plan. Carole could be flighty about some things, but when it came to horseback riding, she was all business. Earning money for horseback riding was part of that business. Stevie was counting on her help.
At Max’s instruction, the horses began trotting. Class was almost over. All that was left was the soda whip—another of Pine Hollow’s traditions. On the last trip around the ring, each rider grabbed a riding whip from a bucket. The rider who got the whip with the bottle cap attached to it was in charge of getting sodas for the rest of the class and her partner was in charge of putting her horse away.
“Hey, it’s my turn for the soda whip!” Stevie called out as she grabbed at one of the whips in the bucket. No luck. It was just a whip. “Oh, drat!” Stevie said. The other girls in the class laughed.
“How come you want it today?” Carole asked her.
“I’ve got a job to do—remember I told you about how I’ve got to earn money?”
&
nbsp; Carole nodded her head, but Stevie thought she looked doubtful. Stevie would show her that she could stick with this project!
In the end, it turned out that Lisa got the soda whip. Disappointed, Stevie dismounted and led Comanche back to his stall while Carole explained to Lisa what she’d have to do.
Lisa groaned inwardly, but she wasn’t going to let Carole—or anybody else—think she was a bad sport. She readily relinquished Patch to Betsy and headed for the tack room, where there was a small locker area and the refrigerator.
Lisa was alone. All the other riders were with their horses. Mothers, fathers, and sitters waited in the office, which was in a separate building on the stable grounds. Suddenly, much sooner than she had expected, Lisa had her chance to get even with Stevie.
Usually, Lisa could shrug off something like this afternoon’s incidents and maybe even laugh a little bit, too. But this time she just couldn’t. She remembered vividly her terror as Patch tore around the ring. She could still hear Stevie’s laughter and see the smirks from the other riders when Stevie had left off her stirrups. She could still feel the embarrassment.
There, on the floor, was a pair of sneakers belonging to Stevie Lake. Her initials were written all over them and there was nobody else in the class whose initials were S.L. So, before Lisa opened the refrigerator to get seven sodas, she took a minute—just a minute—to tie knots in Stevie’s shoelaces.
When Lisa was younger, she’d been in the scouts—one activity which she had loved—and she’d learned every kind of knot there was. She did them all in Stevie’s laces. Of course, Stevie would know who had done it. Lisa was the only one with the opportunity. But that didn’t matter, because Stevie would also know she deserved it. A practical joker had to be prepared for retaliation.
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