Mallory and the Dream Horse

Home > Childrens > Mallory and the Dream Horse > Page 6
Mallory and the Dream Horse Page 6

by Ann M. Martin


  “Way to go, Vanessa!” Nicky shouted.

  “Was that your talent?” another one asked.

  “Very funny,” Vanessa muttered from where she lay sprawled on the grass.

  “I better make sure she’s okay,” Stacey said.

  Vanessa was pulling her crumpled megaphone out from under her when Stacey reached her. A grass stain ran down the side of her white tights, but otherwise only her pride had been injured.

  “Did that look too stupid?” Vanessa whispered.

  Stacey shook her head. “No, you handled it like a pro. But next time, make sure you stand on something sturdy, like a bench.”

  “Okay.” Vanessa leaped up and brushed the grass off her legs. Then she returned to directing the talent contest. “We’re going to run through our show, everybody,” she called. “I’ve arranged it in alphabetical order, so Sean Addison — you will go first.”

  “Where are the other Pikes?” Stacey whispered to Claud.

  Claudia stood up. “Margo and Claire are sitting in the front by Vanessa,” she reported. “And Nicky is over there talking to Buddy Barrett.”

  Stacey nodded. “We might as well sit back and enjoy the show.”

  Stacey and Claud sat on the ground in front of the Stars of Tomorrow stage. Well, it wasn’t really a stage. It was just a clothesline with two blankets draped across it to look like a curtain. Claud giggled and pointed as Sean Addison punched at the blankets, struggling for a way to get through. Finally he found the opening and emerged in front of the audience. He was carrying a shiny metal tuba that was almost as big as he was. Sean looked over at Margo, who started back at him blankly. Then Vanessa jabbed her with her elbow and hissed, “You’re supposed to introduce him, silly!”

  “Oh!” Margo stood up and shouted, “Sean Addison will be playing a classical song on his tuba.”

  There was a burst of applause and Sean bowed stiffly, then puffed his cheeks out as he began his song.

  Stacey listened for a few seconds, then said, “Hey, that’s not a classical tune. That’s ‘Old MacDonald.’ ”

  Claudia covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “I think she meant a song from their class at school.”

  Sean played the notes perfectly — all except the last one — so the tune sounded like, “Ee-ai-ee-ai-YEOW!” But he didn’t seem to notice. He bowed solemnly from the waist and stuck out his tongue at Buddy Barrett, who was next.

  Buddy didn’t bother to come through the curtains. He was carrying too many props in his arms — a hula hoop, a paper bag, and a large red ball. His younger sister Suzi waddled after him, tugging on a leash. At its end was their basset hound, Pow.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll introduce us,” Buddy said to Vanessa. Then he stepped forward and gestured with his thumb to his chest. “I am Buddy Barrett, the world’s greatest animal trainer.”

  “Since when does an animal trainer wear a Cub Scout uniform?” Stacey whispered to Claudia.

  “When he can’t find anything else to wear,” Claudia murmured back.

  “And now I’d like to present Pow, the smartest dog on earth,” Buddy continued, gesturing grandly to the side. “Bring Pow forward, oh, assistant of mine.”

  “ ‘Oh, assistant of mine’?” Claudia repeated. She would have burst out laughing if Stacey hadn’t jabbed her in the side with her elbow.

  Suzi Barrett led the basset hound out to the center of the stage. He sat on his haunches, his long ears dragging on the ground by his front paws, and stared impassively at the crowd while Buddy declared, “This is Pow, the world’s only talking dog.”

  “This I gotta see,” said Claudia, giggling. She leaned forward.

  Buddy knelt beside Pow and lifted one of his ears. “All right, Pow, here’s your first question. What’s on top of the house?”

  Buddy and the kids stared hard at the wrinkled basset hound. But Pow did nothing. Buddy repeated the question. This time Pow blinked several times and lazily scratched a flea behind his ear with his back leg. Finally Buddy stood up and shouted, “SPEAK to me, Pow.”

  Pow promptly cocked his head and let out a loud, “Woof.”

  “That is correct!” Buddy handed the dog a biscuit, which Pow seemed to inhale without chewing. “A roof is on top of the house. See how smart he is, folks?”

  The kids giggled and then a boy shouted, “Ask him another question. I’ll bet he gives the same answer.”

  “That’s what you think.” Buddy grinned at the boy, then turned to Pow and asked, “Okay, how was your day?”

  This time Buddy gently nudged Pow in the rear with the toe of his shoe and Pow grumbled, “R-r-r-ruff.”

  Buddy raised his arms in triumph. “You heard him say it. Pow had a rough day.”

  There was a burst of applause. Then a girl dressed like a radish yelled, “What’s the hula hoop for?”

  Buddy frowned at her. “I’m getting to that.” He turned to Suzi and said, “Assistant, may I have the hoop?”

  Suzi ran forward and knelt on the grass, holding the hoop in front of Pow. Pow, however, had decided to lie down, his big head resting on his paws and his ears spread out across the grass on either side.

  “I hope this next trick doesn’t take too much energy,” Stacey whispered to Claudia. “It looks like Pow’s falling asleep.”

  “Pow, the mighty basset hound, will now jump through the hoop.” Buddy placed a dog biscuit on the other side of the hoop and clapped his hands. “Okay, Pow — go for it!”

  After several moments of intense urging, accompanied by lots of giggling from the neighborhood kids, Pow struggled to his feet. He strolled over to the hoop, stuck his head through it, and inhaled the biscuit. Then he sauntered to the shady side of the house and, with a tired groan, lay down again.

  “I think Pow is letting us know your act is over,” Vanessa informed Buddy.

  Buddy put his hands on his hips and marched over to the sidelines to give Pow a stern lecture about leaving the stage too soon. In the meantime Vanessa checked her clipboard to see who was on next.

  Stacey surveyed the crowd. “If they’re going in alphabetical order, it should be Haley Braddock’s turn next.”

  They watched as Haley marched briskly through the crowd up to the stage. She wore sequined red shorts, a white sailor blouse, a bow tie also covered with sequins, and a top hat. Stacey saw the baton in Haley’s hand and said, “I didn’t know she was a twirler.”

  Haley handed Vanessa a tape recorder, then strode to the center of the stage and lowered herself into a split. She waited for the taped music to begin, a wide smile frozen on her face. But nothing happened.

  Claudia and Stacey heard her mumble, “Start the music.” But Vanessa didn’t hear her. She was too busy trying to keep Charlotte Johanssen’s schnauzer, Carrot, away from another little girl’s cat.

  Finally, just as Haley was standing up to see what was the matter, Vanessa gasped, “Oh, the music!” She hit the button and “You’re a Grand Old Flag” blared out of the recorder, but Haley was no longer in a split.

  “Wait!” she yelped. “I’m not ready!”

  While the two girls hurried to reset the tape player, Claudia spotted a familiar figure in the Pikes’ driveway. “Hey, look, it’s Mary Anne.” She gestured for her to join them.

  Stacey squinted at the house. “She brought Nina Marshall with her. And Nina brought her blanket.”

  “Oops!” Claudia and Stacey murmured simultaneously as they watched the huge blanket get caught on the fender of a car. Nina pulled it free, but Carrot the schnauzer pounced on the tip dragging behind her. He grabbed it with his teeth and tugged it back and forth with a growl.

  “My Blankie!” Nina wailed. “Let go!”

  “It’s a tug-of-war!” Claudia said. Mary Anne tried to catch Carrot, but he was too quick for her. “Come on,” Claud said, leaping to her feet.

  Claud flung herself at Carrot and held on tightly while Stacey pulled the frayed blanket out of Carrot’s mouth. Aside from a few dangling thread
s, there was no damage. Mary Anne gave Nina a quick hug and said, “There. Blankie’s okay.”

  The tears in Nina’s eyes dried quickly as the music for Haley’s baton twirling number began again. “I want to watch the show!” she cried.

  “All right.” Mary Anne gathered the gray blanket into a big ball and handed it back to Nina. “But be sure and keep your blanket off the ground. There are a few more dogs around here who might think it’s a toy.”

  Nina clutched Blankie to her chest as she made her way to the second row. Mary Anne waited until Nina was sitting safely on the grass, then sat down with Stacey and Claud and exclaimed, “Phew! That was a close one. Carrot could have ripped that blanket to shreds.”

  Stacey nodded. “I know. It’s old enough.”

  “Just getting that blanket here in one piece has been a major event. First Nina practically dragged it through a mud puddle. Then we decided to put it in the wagon and pull it, but it’s so huge that it caught in the wheel and got all tangled up.”

  Claud tucked a strand of her long dark hair behind one ear. “That blanket is a major problem,” she observed. “It makes it difficult to do anything and keeps Nina from playing with other kids.”

  “I know.” Mary Anne pursed her lips. “But I’m not sure what to do about it.”

  Stacey shrugged. “Maybe she’ll grow out of it.”

  “I hope so,” Mary Anne murmured as she watched several children scoot away from Nina to make way for the blanket. “I really hope so.”

  “Mallory, relax,” Lauren said to me during my next lesson. “You’re stiff as an ironing board.”

  I couldn’t help it. The horse I was riding, whose name was Twilight, had been skittish the entire hour. The first time I gave him the canter cue, he bucked forward just like Gremlin had, and I nearly fell off again. It was all I could do to stay on the horse and complete the lesson.

  “All right, class,” Lauren called out, raising her arm above her head. “Come to a halt.”

  Even stopping Twilight was difficult. In my head I went over the command Lauren had taught us. “Sit solidly in the saddle and give a long, firm tug on the reins.” I did just that but Twilight ignored me. The rest of the class had reined in their mounts and watched as Twilight and I made one more circle of the ring. As he trotted past Lauren, she reached out and grabbed his bridle.

  “Twilight! Whoa!”

  The firm tone of her voice stopped him in his tracks. But I wasn’t ready for it and pitched forward over his neck. Luckily, I caught his mane and stopped myself from tumbling onto the ground.

  “Interesting riding technique,” Kelsey murmured as I struggled to sit up straight.

  Lauren led me to my position in the circle of riders and whispered in Twilight’s ear, “Now you stand there and pay attention.”

  For the first time that hour, Twilight did exactly as he was told. I couldn’t bear to look around because I was sure the rest of the class was laughing at me, so I kept my eyes glued on Lauren, who turned to face the line of riders.

  “Class, we have two more lessons left,” she announced. “And then this course will be over.”

  A few murmurs of regret came from the other six kids. But I was relieved, although I wasn’t about to admit it in front of Lauren or the class.

  Lauren held up her finger. “At the end of each eight-week period, Kendallwood Farm sponsors a horse show and every class participates. You’ll all get to show off what you’ve learned over the past two months.”

  “Oh, no,” I groaned under my breath.

  “Our show will be the Sunday after the last class,” Lauren continued. “Mark it on your calendars and be sure and tell your family and friends. We’ll hand out ribbons to the best riders, so I’d advise you to use the last two lessons to sharpen your skills.”

  While the rest of the class talked excitedly about who they intended to invite, my mind raced in an entirely different direction. I was trying to come up with an excuse for not being in the horse show. Breaking a leg was out. Too painful. Trying to get the measles probably wouldn’t work, either. At any rate, no way was I going to invite my family or my friends.

  While these thoughts were running through my brain, Amber raised her hand. “Lauren, I’d like to make an announcement, please.”

  “Go ahead.” Lauren gestured for Amber to take the center.

  Amber nudged her horse forward. “This Wednesday is my birthday,” she announced, “and I would like to invite everyone to come to my party. It should be really cool. I’ve thought of some fun stuff to do, plus there will be lots of great food. I hope you can all come.”

  Amber happened to catch my eye and she smiled. Suddenly I felt a hundred percent better, as if the last hour never happened. Amber had invited me to her birthday party. Maybe she liked me after all. I was sure she had smiled specifically at me when she said the words, “I hope you can all come.”

  Lauren instructed us to dismount, and as we led our horses back to their stalls, I murmured happily to Megan, “Amber’s birthday party sounds like lots of fun.”

  Megan, who had been acting like I didn’t even exist, actually grinned. “Amber’s parties are always fun.”

  “Oh, you’ve been to them before?”

  “Sure. Most of the class has. A lot of us go to the same school.”

  This was news to me, but it explained a lot of things. The other kids already knew each other, which was why I felt like such an outsider. But now that seemed to be changing. I hummed as I currycombed Twilight. I even gave him one of the sugar lumps I had brought for Pax.

  “You’re not such a bad horse after all, are you, Twilight?” I said.

  Twilight stomped his foot as if in reply, and I laughed out loud. Something I hadn’t done much of since my second lesson.

  I spent the next four days trying to choose the perfect outfit to wear to Amber’s party. At first I thought I’d go wild, like Claudia, with tie-dyed tights and a bright purple oversized T-shirt knotted at the bottom, and maybe a big red belt. But then I decided that since I didn’t know the kids well I really should dress more conservatively.

  Finally Wednesday arrived. My mom picked me up right after the BSC meeting and drove me straight to Amber’s. I didn’t want to be late. Her house, halfway between Stoneybrook and Stamford, was a huge old colonial with white marble pillars lining the porch and a big circular drive leading to the front door. Music was blasting out of the backyard as we pulled to a stop.

  I checked my hair in the mirror one last time and then turned to my mom. “How do I look?”

  I was wearing a gold-and-brown kilt, a matching gold cotton sweater, and penny loafers. Mom smiled reassuringly. “You look terrific.”

  Boy, was she wrong. The second I stepped through Amber’s front door I realized I had made a big mistake. First of all, most of the girls were wearing wacky bright clothes with spiked hair and tons of fun jewelry. The guys looked just as cool. I felt as if I were dressed for Sunday school.

  I spun around and tried to catch my mom’s attention before she drove away. Too late. The car was just pulling onto the road. My spirits sank as I watched it disappear around the curve. She had promised to pick me up in two hours — so that meant I was just going to have to grin and bear it.

  Oh, well, I told myself as I poured a glass of punch at a big oak table covered with sandwiches and pizza. They already think I’m weird because of the way I dress in class. Why confuse them now?

  I took my punch, slid a sandwich onto a paper plate, and headed out to the patio. It was decorated with pink lanterns and bunches of neon pink balloons. Two large-screen televisions had been set up at either end and were tuned to MTV. The patio was crammed with dancing kids.

  Amber waved at me from the middle of the dance floor. She was wearing a pink-and-black-striped silk top over a pair of hot pink stirrup tights. I hurried to join her.

  “Hi, Valerie,” she shouted over the music. “I’m glad you could come.”

  “Um.” I cleared my throa
t. “My name’s Mallory, actually.”

  “Oops.” Amber covered her mouth and giggled. “I’m so terrible with names. Have you met my friends?”

  “Not yet,” I admitted. I was hoping she meant to take me around and introduce me to them. But Amber waved her hand toward the pool, where another group of kids were tossing a volleyball back and forth over the water. “Just introduce yourself. They’re all really great.”

  “Oh. Thanks, Amber.”

  The next two hours were agony. I didn’t know what else to do, so I edged through the crowd toward the pool. I made a couple of attempts to talk to people, but every time I’d open my mouth to say hello they’d spot one of their friends and disappear. Finally I went back inside.

  I spent most of the time hovering around the food table, not because I was hungry but because it gave me something to do. I must have drunk more than ten glasses of punch and eaten half a dozen sandwiches. I bet I strolled out onto the front porch at least fifteen times to see if my mother had come for me early. But no such luck. She was ten minutes late.

  “Listen to that music,” my mom said as I hopped into the car. “It sounds like the party is still going strong. And since it’s a special night, do you want to stay a little longer?”

  “No!” I practically shouted in her ear. She gave me a startled look and I said quickly, “My stomach feels a little queasy.”

  “Oh.” A knowing smile crossed her face. “Too much cake?”

  “And punch.” I didn’t want to tell her about the party. I was afraid she might say things like, “Well, did you introduce yourself? You can’t wait for someone else to do it for you, you know.” Or, “You should have asked some boy to dance. That would have been a sure way to make friends.”

  I decided to talk to Jessi about it. I figured she was the only person I knew who’d understand how I felt. I counted the minutes until we got home.

  “Jessi, I have to talk to you,” I blurted out the second she answered the phone. “The worst thing just happened to me.”

  “What’s the matter, Mal? Is your family okay?” Jessi sounded like her old self, concerned and caring.

 

‹ Prev