“Yup, right here.” Stevie patted a small bag beside her containing the clothes she’d be wearing for the competition. It was a mix-and-match of gymnastic gear that she’d managed to dig out of her closet.
Mrs. Lake stopped the car in front of the stables and waited while the girls climbed out. Stevie placed the boxes on the ground and tilted them to the side, and the goslings immediately hopped out.
“Thanks, Mom,” said Stevie, shoving the empty boxes into the car.
Mrs. Lake leaned toward the open window. “Call me when you’re ready.”
Stevie nodded.
The girls, followed by the goslings, made their way toward the barn.
“I’ll meet you guys inside. I just need to take the goslings over to the pond,” said Stevie, noticing that the goslings had already turned down the path in the direction of the pond.
At the pond, they immediately dived into the water. Stevie waited a few moments, then quietly sneaked away. She knew the goslings wouldn’t miss her until they became tired of swimming—something that was taking longer each day. She hoped it would take long enough to give her time for the competition.
Back at the barn, Stevie changed into her vaulting outfit and joined Carole and Lisa. Lisa finished braiding her hair and tucked it out of the way so that it wouldn’t interfere during the competition.
“Even if we don’t win, at least we’ll look good,” said Lisa.
As much as the girls wanted to do well, they were all aware that their chances against the thoroughly trained Veronica were slim.
“We’ll just do our best,” said Carole, “which is what matters most in competition anyway.”
The other girls agreed. Max was always reminding them that winning was less important than doing your best and reaching your personal goals.
“Besides,” added Stevie, “if nothing else, we know a lot more about vaulting now than we did a month ago.”
The girls realized that they had learned quite a bit in a month, especially Lisa.
“With any luck, Veronica’s grown bored with the whole thing and won’t bother showing up,” Lisa said optimistically.
“Uh, guys? Don’t count on it.” Stevie pointed toward the diAngelo’s car, which had just pulled up in front of the stables. The door opened and Veronica climbed out of the backseat.
Carole frowned. “What on earth is she wearing?”
Lisa and Stevie were dumbfounded.
“It looks like a … costume?” speculated Stevie.
Stevie glanced down at her own mismatched wardrobe, then back to Veronica, who was outfitted in a gold-and-black striped unitard, with gold vaulting slippers on her feet.
“So much for Veronica’s losing interest,” grumbled Stevie. As usual, the diAngelos had gone to the fashion extreme on Veronica’s behalf.
“Not only that, but it looks like she brought her coach,” said Lisa.
An older woman, her hair pinned back neatly, also climbed out of the diAngelos’ car and was greeted warmly by Mrs. Welch, Clara’s owner, who had also just arrived.
As the older women made their way toward the barn, Veronica paused in front of The Saddle Club girls.
“Nice outfits, girls,” Veronica commented in her usual condescending tone. “Too bad you couldn’t afford something a little more …” She paused, searching dramatically for the proper word. “… appropriate.” She flashed them a smile before heading into the barn.
“Only Veronica would go out and buy a competition wardrobe for something that’s not even a competition,” Lisa remarked. Then, after a pause, she added, “Why didn’t we think of that?”
“Because, fortunately, we don’t think like she does,” said Carole. “Come on, guys, it doesn’t matter what she wears or how well she does. What matters is how well we do.”
“Carole’s right,” agreed Lisa. “We need to try to forget about Veronica and just concentrate on doing well. In fact, I think it will be fun to be judged by Mrs. Welch.”
“Then we’d better hurry and get warmed up or we’re going to be late,” said Stevie.
While Red longed Clara in a before-class warm-up, Max took everyone through some ground aerobics and stretching exercises. The riders warmed up on the barrel, practicing their vaulting moves, while Mrs. Welch watched.
Mrs. Welch smiled warmly at Stevie as she tried to perform the Flank on the barrel, losing her balance at the last moment and slipping to the mats below. “Next time, Stevie, try to keep your weight centered just behind the surcingle,” Mrs. Welch offered kindly.
Although the girls had been thinking of this as a competition, they also realized that it was a great opportunity for Mrs. Welch to give the new vaulters pointers on their technique. Stevie thanked Mrs. Welch for the advice and hopped back on the barrel to give it another try. Sure enough, this time she held the position.
Max smiled. “Very good, Stevie.”
Stevie hopped off the barrel, noticing as she did so that Veronica was warming up separately from the group, doing stretches with her coach.
“All right, let’s get started.” Max waved everyone over to the outdoor ring, where Red was waiting with Clara.
Mrs. Welch, score pad in hand, entered the ring and stood close enough to judge the vaulters accurately but not so close as to interfere with Clara’s longeing circle. She nodded to Max to indicate that she was ready to start judging the competition.
Before the warm-up, Max had had everyone pick a number out of a hat to determine in what order they would compete. Veronica and The Saddle Club girls had drawn numbers near the end of the class, with Stevie being the last rider to compete. Stevie only hoped that the goslings wouldn’t notice her disappearance before then.
“Since we’re pretending that this is a competition,” began Mrs. Welch, “I’ll ask you to perform as many of the compulsory vaulting positions as you are comfortable with, starting with the Basic Seat. And it’s always better to do one move well than to do two poorly.” She smiled. “First rider up, please.”
The girls watched as each rider took their turn. Max boosted each rider up, then stepped just far enough out of reach to be of help if he was needed. Finally it was Carole’s turn.
“Good luck,” Lisa whispered.
“Don’t break a leg,” Stevie said, grinning.
Carole smiled nervously and signaled to Mrs. Welch that she was ready to begin. Mrs. Welch returned the smile, which Stevie could tell made Carole feel better. Max boosted Carole onto Clara’s back, and a moment later she was confidently cantering around the circle, her arms extended in the Basic Seat. Next she performed the Flag, bringing her knees beneath her, then sliding her legs out across Clara’s broad back. She held the position for a moment before regaining her balance to move on to the Stand.
Then Carole slipped.
She tried to reach for the handles but wasn’t quick enough and fell off to the side. She landed on the ground and ducked into a roll to ease the impact. Stevie and Lisa cheered supportively as Carole jumped to her feet.
“You did great,” Lisa said, patting Carole on the shoulder as she joined them.
Carole smiled, pleased with her attempt. Even though it wasn’t perfect, it was as good a job as she’d done in practice, and she was pleased with what she’d learned over the past month.
Veronica was up next. She entered the ring carrying a portable CD player, which she placed on the fence near her coach.
“She’s got music?” Lisa gasped.
The girls exchanged looks, feeling any hope of beating Veronica draining away by the second. Even Mrs. Welch seemed impressed.
“When you’re ready, Veronica,” said Mrs. Welch.
Veronica nodded to her coach to start the music, then indicated to Max that she wouldn’t need an assisted mount.
The girls exchanged stunned looks. They all knew that an unassisted vault, or a Vault-on, was one of the more complicated moves because it was important not to pull on the surcingle while mounting. Max had explained that it could ca
use stress or injury to the shoulder muscles on the left side of Clara’s body. Max glanced at Veronica’s coach, who nodded her approval and smiled.
Veronica slipped into the longeing circle and loped along beside Clara, who was cantering smoothly. Red lifted the longe line slightly to allow Veronica to duck underneath and get into position beside Clara’s shoulder.
“Do you really think she can do it?” Carole asked, amazed.
Before either Stevie or Lisa could respond, Veronica reached for the vaulting handles. Using the momentum of Clara’s stride, she bounced off the ground, effortlessly pushing herself up onto Clara’s tall back.
Overconfident, Veronica started her routine, moving quickly into the Flag. But she slipped bringing her knees underneath her and tumbled off Clara’s back, rolling as she hit the ground.
Max offered her a hand up. “That’s too bad, Veronica. You had a great start.” He was about to call the next vaulter forward when Veronica stepped in front of him.
“But I can’t be finished, Max,” Veronica whined. “I’ve got a whole routine worked out.”
“I’m sorry, Veronica, but it wouldn’t be fair to the others to let you go again.”
“But I worked so hard!” Veronica implored. “Please just let me have one more chance.”
Max hesitated. “Well, it’s not up to me, Veronica,” he said finally. “It’s up to the other riders.”
As Veronica stared expectantly at the group, The Saddle Club girls looked at each other, torn.
Stevie shrugged. “It would be a great way to keep Veronica from stealing first place.”
“But technically,” Carole pointed out, “it’s not a real competition.”
“And we’re all supposed to be here to learn,” Lisa agreed reluctantly.
“Even if some of us”—Stevie looked directly at Veronica—“cheated by hiring a private coach?”
Veronica crossed her arms and began to tap one slipper-clad foot with annoyance as she overheard Stevie’s last comment. Max glanced around at the group as he waited for their decision. There was a long pause as the vaulters looked at each other.
Then Stevie heard herself saying, “She has worked pretty hard over the past month.” She abruptly covered her mouth, mumbling between her fingers, “Tell me I didn’t just compliment Veronica.”
Carole grimaced ruefully. “I think you did. But I agree. Veronica deserves the chance to show everyone what she can do.”
“And I have to admit,” Lisa added with a smile, “I am just a little bit curious.”
“Does anyone object?” Max finally asked the group. Everyone shook their heads. “All right then, Veronica—one more chance.”
Veronica smirked and signaled to her coach to restart the music. Once again, she vaulted smoothly onto Clara’s back, and, more cautiously this time, she began her routine. The Saddle Club girls couldn’t help being impressed. Veronica performed all the compulsory movements, as well as a couple of freestyle moves that she’d invented with her coach. She ended the demonstration with a proper dismount, landing lightly on her feet.
Lisa groaned. “As if I can beat that!”
“Now that you mention it, we probably shouldn’t have given Veronica that second chance,” Stevie cracked with a good-humored laugh.
“Just do your best, Lisa,” said Carole.
Lisa nodded and jogged over to where Max was waiting. He quickly boosted her up, then stepped back as she began the sequence of vaulting positions. Respectably enough, Lisa managed each one of the four basic positions she’d practiced—the Basic Seat, the Flag, the Mill, and the Stand—before executing a graceful dismount and landing on both feet.
Stevie and Carole cheered wildly for her, as did many of the other students. But they both knew it wouldn’t be enough to beat Veronica.
Finally it was Stevie’s turn.
Stevie gulped when Red nodded to her. Show jitters weren’t something that she was accustomed to. But then again, she thought wryly, neither is performing gymnastics on a moving floor.
She ducked under the longe line and accepted a boost up from Max as they walked alongside Clara. Taking hold of the surcingle handles, she settled gently onto Clara’s back. Stevie stretched her legs downward, comforted by the warmth of Clara’s coat against her calves. No matter what she was about to do, it was riding, and riding always calmed her. Well, almost always. As Red clucked Clara into a canter, Stevie instantly relaxed her lower back, allowing her good training and natural ability to take over. Swinging her legs up under her in a crouch, she concentrated on the ripple of movement beneath her knees as Clara’s back muscles rapidly contracted and expanded with each rise and fall. She adjusted to the rhythm, and when she was ready, she extended her right leg back and her left arm forward into the Flag. She was surprised by the sudden odd sound around her. It took a second to realize it was applause. She’d done it right!
Smiling to herself, she inhaled the comforting aroma of Clara’s musky scent, then began her next move: the Mill (or the around-the-world, as Stevie liked to refer to it) in which she had to turn in a full circle on Clara’s back. In the middle of it—just when Stevie thought she had it made—Clara stumbled slightly, causing Stevie to lose her balance and fall against the mare’s withers. Clara quickly righted herself, hardly missing a beat, and shifted her own weight to help Stevie recover her balance. As soon as she was comfortably upright, Stevie gently stroked the soft hair at the base of Clara’s neck. “Thanks,” she whispered. Clara’s ears perked up and rotated back in response to the sound of Stevie’s soothing voice.
The explosion of clapping from the sidelines caught Stevie’s attention, once again surprising her. This time, Stevie smiled to the crowd. Then, with renewed confidence, she brought her legs up to a crouching position as she prepared to move into the Stand. It wasn’t as if she thought she was doing a wonderful job, but she knew she was doing the moves as well as she could. She’d learned something and she was pleased that the onlookers thought so, too.
But what she was about to do, the Stand, made the Flag and the Mill look easy.
“Come on, Stevie, you can do it!” Lisa gripped the top rail of the fence as she mentally went through the moves with her friend, feeling every stride of Clara’s canter even from a distance.
Stevie shifted her balance slightly in time with the gentle rise and fall of Clara’s canter, mentally following Clara’s footsteps as each large hoof hit the ground and feeling her own body and balance become one with the horse. One-two-three, one-two … She released the vaulting handles and slowly stood up, keeping her arms in front of her as she straightened her legs to a standing position. She felt herself tipping slightly to the right. No, no, she thought. She kept counting and closed her eyes, feeling her feet melt into the mare’s back, flexing her knees with every stride until she was standing, perfectly balanced, arms out to the side.
There was a buzz in the audience. Of course there was. She was doing something very difficult and she’d done it right. Well, maybe not gold-medal right, but right. So why were they buzzing and not clapping? Keeping her head absolutely still, she let her eyes play across the crowd. They didn’t even look like they were about to clap. They looked like they were about to laugh.
Her tights! They must have fallen down! But when she glanced down to check, it wasn’t tights she saw at her ankles. It was something fuzzy, web-footed, adoring, and utterly cute. It was a gosling, standing on Clara’s back, right behind her! No, there were two goslings! Number Three was there on Clara’s rump, and when Stevie glanced down again, Three had been joined by a bossy and irritated Number One, who began quacking authoritatively. He took the position closest to Stevie over Three’s quacked objections. They were both silenced when Number Two jumped off the fence to add his performance the next time they circled the ring.
Stevie started giggling. It confused poor Clara, who speeded up. That caused the goslings to quack wildly. Stevie flailed her arms in the air in an attempt to regain her balance. And that cau
sed three goslings to begin flailing their wings in the air in imitation.
And then Stevie heard another sound—one of her favorites. It was the sound of an entire crowd of onlookers laughing with glee.
Stevie knew an opportunity for showmanship when she saw one. Carefully, she settled herself back into a sitting position on Clara’s back. She reached behind her with both hands and allowed two of the goslings to settle onto her hands. Then she extended her arms.
“I call this move the Flying Goose,” she said, barely containing a smile. The audience applauded. She let Number Three sit on top of her head for a few strides. The audience applauded. Stevie bowed slightly and Number Three slipped off and then fluttered down to the ground, quacking loudly. Stevie was afraid Clara might unintentionally run over Number Three or—as she realized, when she saw where her little charge had fled—any of the other goslings, all of whom had decided that the schooling ring was much more interesting than the pond that afternoon. Red spotted the problem, too, and drew Clara to a gentle halt. Stevie made as graceful a dismount as she could muster while holding Numbers One and Two in her hands.
The audience burst into applause and Stevie grinned happily, bowing again. The goslings clustered at her feet followed suit, nodding their heads, which made everyone laugh and clap even more. Everyone, that is, except Veronica, who seemed furious to be out of the limelight. She stood behind the rail, arms crossed, tapping one foot angrily, while everyone else circled around Stevie and her adorable little goslings.
“Well,” said Mrs. Welch, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes. “I’m stumped, since it’s obvious to me that the blue ribbon really should go to the vaulting goslings.”
“But you can’t do that,” Veronica said hastily. “They’re not even part of the competition.”
Mrs. Welch nodded. “Which is why I’ve decided the blue ribbon should go to their trainer, Stevie Lake.”
The Saddle Club squealed in delight.
“But—But what about me?” Veronica sputtered angrily above the clapping from the crowd, which also seemed to believe that Stevie and her goslings should be awarded the blue ribbon.
Horse Feathers Page 10