Horse Feathers

by Bonnie Bryant

  Everyone laughed at the joke, although they realized Max had a good point.

  “Let’s get started!” Max shouted.

  As the last student finished the beam exercises, Max called the class over to the vaulting barrel. “One of the first things we’ll need to learn before we get on the horse is how to get off the horse safely, in case of an emergency.”

  Although most of the riders were familiar with the exercise, Max walked the class through the emergency dismount just to be sure. The most important thing was to jump clear of the horse’s hooves and to roll with the momentum of the dismount, to prevent any type of impact injury. For practice, Max had the class try several emergency dismounts by leaping from the barrel to the ground.

  Once he was satisfied that everyone was dismounting correctly, he surprised the class by calling Red in to demonstrate a couple of the more common vaulting positions on the barrel. Red gracefully performed several different moves, including one called the Mill, in which the vaulter made a complete rotation on the barrel in four evenly counted phases, carrying each leg over the barrel in a high semicircle.

  “That explains why Max had us do the around-the-world earlier,” said Stevie. “What it doesn’t explain is how he”—Stevie pointed to Red—“managed to make that look so easy.”

  Red overheard the comment and laughed, then exchanged looks with Max.

  Max smiled. “We cheated a little. Red spent a few years on a vaulting team before he moved to Willow Creek, which is why I thought he’d be the best person to act as our longeur.” Max’s voice went serious, as it always did when he was trying to get across an important point about riding. “Our number one concern is safety, for you and for Clara. Only a person with the experience to keep the horse moving forward at a safe and steady pace should be handling the longe line.”

  As if anticipating the next question, Red said, “I know that you all know how to longe a horse. But it’s one thing to send a horse forward as a form of exercise. It’s quite another to control its every step.”

  “And here I thought longeing was the easy part,” said Carole. Everyone laughed.

  Max signaled for a ten-minute break, and the girls ran inside the barn for a quick drink.

  “I hope we can all watch the eggs hatch together,” Stevie said as she reached into her cubby for her water bottle. She suddenly realized that it was the first time she had thought about the eggs all day. “Oh my gosh! What time is it?” she exclaimed, grabbing Lisa’s hand to check her watch. It was just after two o’clock. She had missed the midday turning of the eggs. “My eggs!”

  Stevie shot off at full speed down the barn aisle, passing Veronica, who was taking a sip of her soda.

  “What’s with her?” Veronica asked in a bored manner.

  Lisa and Carole exchanged looks, then said in unison, as if no further explanation was necessary: “Mother Goose.”

  STEVIE RACED UP the stairs and burst into her bedroom, dreading the result of her missed turning. She’d only had the eggs for a day and already she was neglecting them. Some Mother Goose she was!

  Stevie knelt beside the incubator, opened the lid, and very gently turned each egg. Then she grabbed the instructions. She sat back on her heels and went through them, line by line, to see if she might have done any permanent damage to the eggs.

  From what she read it seemed as if the eggs would be all right. Not that it prevented her from being nervous. She checked and rechecked the temperature and humidity—everything was normal. Still, she was reluctant to leave, even though it meant missing the rest of her lesson.

  What if she had actually done damage and she just couldn’t tell yet? And then what if she left and the damage got worse? The safest thing is just to stay with them, she thought. With that decision made, she crawled onto her desk chair and leaned against the back of it, never once taking her eyes off the incubator.

  Stevie was still sitting in the same position, staring at the incubator, when Lisa and Carole knocked on her bedroom door two hours later.

  “Tell me you haven’t been sitting there this whole time,” said Carole, concerned.

  Stevie looked at her guiltily. “Failure to turn,” she said seriously, “and it’s only the second day. How bad is that?”

  Lisa came over and gently patted Stevie’s shoulder. “Stevie, the instructions allow a caretaker a good night’s sleep. And I read that the eggs are fine as long as you keep alternating the side that’s up, night after night. I really don’t think a few extra hours will have affected them.”

  “Besides,” added Carole, “the eggs are in their last week of incubation and should be almost to the point where they don’t need to be turned at all.”

  “Maybe so, but I’m not taking any more chances,” Stevie announced determinedly. “They’re not leaving my sight until they hatch.”

  “Have you forgotten about school?” Lisa asked gently.

  “Oh, right. Well, I’ll just come home for lunch every day to turn them.” Then she suddenly remembered that they hadn’t told her about the last part of the vaulting lesson. “Oh! What did I miss?”

  “Only the part where we actually got a chance to longe Clara,” Lisa said casually.

  “And the part where Max explained to us about the different types of vaulting teams,” added Carole.

  “Oh sure, he exercises us to death, and then the second I leave all the exciting stuff happens,” Stevie said with a frown.

  Carole smiled and eagerly filled Stevie in on the types of vaulting teams that were allowed in competition. The first one was made up of eight riders and a longeur; the second was an individual rider and a longeur; and the third was commonly referred to as a pas de deux, which Max had explained was technically a young woman, a young man, and a longeur. However, if two vaulters of the same sex participated, it was called pairs. In every case, though, the longeur was a very important part of the team because he or she had to be able to keep the horse going at a steady pace.

  “Of course, the type of teams are only important if we’re actually going to compete,” Lisa told Stevie. “Unfortunately, Max said that we only have Clara for a month—not exactly enough time to prepare for a real competition.”

  “But,” Carole broke in excitedly, “on Clara’s last weekend at Pine Hollow, Max is going to let us demonstrate what we’ve learned in our own mini-competition.”

  “Which doesn’t give us very much time to prepare,” said Lisa.

  “And Mrs. Welch, Clara’s owner, has offered to be the judge,” Carole added. “Isn’t that cool?”

  Stevie was still stuck on the one-month part. After the trouble she’d had with some of the exercises earlier that day, she couldn’t imagine that a month would be enough time to learn how to vault.

  Lisa continued. “Max actually said that it’s not as hard as it looks.” Then she corrected herself. “Or, that it is, but if we work hard, we should all be vaulting by the end of the month—”

  Lisa was interrupted by a knock on the door. Or more accurately, there was a quick perfunctory knock one second before all three of Stevie’s brothers tromped into the room. Stevie jumped to her feet, trying to push them back out the door.

  “Girl space and you’re invading it. Later,” she said to her brothers.

  “Oh, come on,” said Chad. “We were downstairs trying to make egg salad sandwiches to take to school tomorrow and realized we’re fresh out of eggs. Think we could borrow a half dozen until the next grocery run?”

  Stevie let out a loud distressed howl and ran back to the incubator, standing protectively between it and her brothers. Then she burst into tears.

  Chad, Alex, and Michael looked mystified.

  Lisa and Carole were confused, too, What in the world is wrong with Stevie? Lisa wondered. If this was indeed Stevie. And she wasn’t at all sure that the girl standing in front of her, sobbing helplessly, was Stevie Lake simply because the real Stevie Lake would have instantly descended upon her brothers with a fierce, warriorlike battle cry.
The sound Stevie made was more like that of a drowning cat.

  “Hey, we were only kidding,” Alex said cautiously.

  Chad looked just as uncertain as Alex about how to respond. “It’s okay, Stevie. Alex is right. We didn’t mean it. There are still plenty of eggs in the fridge,” he said awkwardly, apparently not realizing he’d made things worse until Stevie’s sobbing turned into a wail. Chad sneaked a glance at Lisa, who discreetly indicated that they might want to leave the room—fast.

  “Ah … okay. Um … we’re going now.” Chad made a motion to his brothers to follow him and backed out of the room, quietly closing the door behind them.

  Lisa and Carole rushed over and hugged Stevie.

  “M-my—my e-eg-eggs …,” hiccuped Stevie as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  “Sssshhhhhhh. They’re not going to take your eggs,” soothed Carole.

  Lisa and Carole exchanged concerned looks over Stevie’s shoulder. This wasn’t the Stevie they were used to. It certainly wasn’t normal for Stevie to be so vulnerable. Or to be vulnerable at all, thought Lisa. The only thing she could chalk it up to was the stress of impending motherhood. Or goosehood. Or whatever it was called.

  Slowly, Stevie’s tears subsided. She brushed the dampness off her cheeks. “I’m okay now. Thanks.” She smiled at her friends. “You guys should probably be getting home.”

  Carole glanced at her watch and realized Stevie was right. “I promised Dad I’d be back for dinner.”

  Lisa gave Stevie an extra hug for comfort then headed to the bedroom door with Carole. “Remember,” she said, “we’ll be working on vaulting in Tuesday’s class.”

  Stevie nodded.

  Lisa’s and Carole’s voices slowly faded as they made their way down the stairs, buzzing again about the upcoming vaulting class. Stevie got to her feet and quietly closed her bedroom door. Then she crossed the room and pulled a pillow and synthetic comforter off the bed. She curled up on the carpet next to the incubator and snuggled under the blanket, keeping a watchful eye on her eggs.

  TUESDAY’S VAULTING LESSON couldn’t come soon enough, as far as the girls were concerned. Max had promised his students that they would finally get a chance to try a couple of simple moves on Clara. Almost every other word that had come out of Lisa’s or Carole’s mouth since Sunday had had something to do with vaulting. Not that Stevie wasn’t just as excited, but she was also quite preoccupied with her eggs and was finding it difficult to concentrate on anything else.

  Lisa glanced down at her dance tights. “I feel like I showed up for the wrong lesson,” she joked.

  Carole and Stevie, who were also wearing tights instead of their standard riding breeches, had to agree. Max had instructed everyone to wear snug, flexible clothing for the day’s lesson. Although breeches were ideal for riding, they weren’t as suitable for vaulting.

  “Wait until you try walking across the arena floor in these,” said Stevie, pulling on a pair of soft-soled, ballet-like slippers that Max had also requested they wear so that they wouldn’t injure Clara’s back.

  The first part of the class had been a repeat of Sunday’s ground exercises, followed by some work on the barrel for balance. When Max was satisfied that everyone had taken a turn, he’d told them to quickly change their footwear and meet him in the indoor arena.

  The girls arrived in the arena to see Red already warming up Clara on the longe line. It was the first time Stevie had seen the large mare work, and she had to admit that Clara looked quite impressive decked out in her vaulting gear. She was outfitted in a simple snaffle bit. Side reins ran from the bit to the vaulting surcingle. The surcingle itself consisted of a large thick belt of padded leather, approximately eight inches wide, that wrapped around Clara’s withers and belly and was buckled up on either side, very similar to a saddle girth. Along the top of the surcingle were two leather-covered handles. Cossack straps were attached below the handles on either side, which Stevie suspected would be used to help the shorter riders mount. Between the surcingle and Clara’s back was a thick cotton pad. Red had also wrapped Clara’s lower legs for added support.

  Red clucked softly to Clara and the large mare instantly shifted from a trot into a canter. Stevie, Lisa, and Carole watched in awe at the sight of Clara cantering in a perfect circle around Red. Her stride was so even and balanced that she appeared to float above the ground.

  “Wow … I wish Belle were that smooth,” Stevie whispered.

  The soft ground beneath the girls’ feet shook as all 1,400 pounds of Clara cantered past. So she didn’t exactly float, mused Stevie.

  “One of the most important things in vaulting,” Max began, “is the soft arena. Not only does it protect Clara’s legs from injury, but it also protects the vaulters from landing on too hard of a surface if they fall off.”

  “You mean ‘when’,” corrected Stevie.

  Max smiled and continued. “The other important thing is to make sure that the horse is properly warmed up. And because a vaulting horse spends most of its time working in a circle, it’s necessary to cross train with other disciplines, such as dressage or jumping, to maximize muscle development and flexibility. Students aren’t the only ones who need to be flexible in vaulting.”

  The class laughed at Max’s comment as Red slowed Clara to a walk.

  “So who wants to go first?” Max asked brightly. The riders looked at each other. “What about you, Carole?” he suggested.

  Carole nodded and stepped forward. Ordinarily all three of The Saddle Club girls would have volunteered to go first, but this time they were all just a little nervous.

  While Red longed Clara at a walk, Max boosted Carole gently onto the mare’s back. Max had already explained to them that the Vault-on, which was how vaulters mounted their horses at the canter, was a more difficult move and would come later in the training. Besides that, a Vault-on was never performed at a walk because there wasn’t enough momentum to swing the rider onto the horse’s back without putting stress on the horse’s shoulder and leg muscles.

  “She feels like a giant rocking chair!” Carole exclaimed excitedly, instantly forgetting her nervousness. She adjusted her seat on Clara’s broad back, enjoying the even tempo of the mare’s walk. Instinctively she reached up to adjust her helmet, then remembered she wasn’t wearing one. She grinned at Max. “It’s like getting into a car and not putting your seat belt on.”

  Max nodded. “It’ll take a little bit of getting used to.”

  It was the first time that Carole could think of that Max had actually instructed the students not to wear their helmets. As Max had explained to them, helmets could interfere with balance and peripheral vision. It was especially important in the more advanced moves, where vaulters rested their heads directly against the horse’s body for stability. The interference of a helmet could cause them to slip and fall.

  “All right, Carole, let’s begin with the Basic Seat.”

  The Basic Seat was easy—it was no different than a similar exercise that Max had them do in regular mounted classes. Carole extended her arms at shoulder level and looked straight ahead. She stretched her legs down, squeezing slightly so that no light shone between her legs and Clara’s sides.

  “Very good,” said Max. “Now, I want you to gently swing your legs forward and then back, bringing yourself up to a kneeling position on Clara’s back.”

  The students watched, captivated, as Carole gripped the handles of the vaulting surcingle and followed Max’s instructions, timing her movements with the slow, even, four-beat tempo of Clara’s walk.

  “The next thing we’re going to try is an up-to-the-knees, which is basically a half Stand. Pretty soon you’ll be able to do these moves at the canter,” said Max. “In a way it will be easier because of the tempo. But I want to make sure that everyone gets a feel for the positions before we try that.”

  Max walked along beside Clara, coaching Carole as she moved from a kneeling position into a crouched position, bringing one foot up firs
t and then the other. Carole tried to let go of the handles and immediately lost her balance, slipping awkwardly to the side.

  “Don’t forget your emergency dismount,” reminded Max.

  Carole quickly swung both her legs over Clara’s rump and landed in the soft arena dirt, rolling over her shoulder to lessen the impact. “Very good, Carole,” said Max.

  Stevie was next. She was surprised at how difficult it was to keep her balance once she let go of the handles. Before she knew it, she found herself sitting in the dirt off to the side of the longeing circle, watching Clara’s large black-and-white rump as the horse sauntered past. Clara glanced back curiously as if to say, “What are you doing down there?”

  Lisa didn’t fare much better. She slowly picked herself up off the ground, brushing at the arena dirt on her clothes, wondering how on earth anyone actually managed to stay on the horse.

  “Max, there’s no way we’re going to be able to learn how to do this in a month,” announced Meg, one of the other students in the class who had also fallen off shortly after mounting.

  “At this rate we’ll be lucky to learn it in a year,” declared Stevie, quite frustrated with the way the lesson was progressing—or rather, not progressing. What was bothering her the most, besides the obvious fact that she’d fallen off, was that she suddenly felt like a total beginner again. And she could see from the frowns on the other students’ faces that they were feeling exactly the same way.

  Max seemed unconcerned, even though no one in the class had managed to stay on for more than a few strides in any position other than the Basic Seat. “It’s like riding a bicycle,” he said. “These exercises aren’t any different from the ones you did on the barrel. You just need to get used to the feel of the ‘moving floor’ underneath you.”

  Stevie thought Max’s comment seemed odd, especially since they were all very used to the feel of a horse’s motion.