The blare of a loudspeaker cut through the silence of the stable then, and I heard a voice announce, “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Kendallwood Farm and another splendid afternoon of fine horsemanship from our young riders.”
I felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on me. I left the stall and peeked out the big doors of the barn. The bleachers were full, and I could see my mom and dad in the very last row, with my brothers and sisters lined up in front of them.
Instantly I wanted to run — far, far away, from saddles and bridles and anything having to do with horses or riding.
The speaker crackled again and the announcer said, “Class Number One — that’s the pony class — you’re on call. Take your mounts to the paddock and warm them up, please. We’re now calling the halter class. Will the handlers lead their horses into the ring at once.”
Suddenly I couldn’t remember when my class — which was Beginning Equitation — was supposed to perform. My throat tightened with panic, and I looked around desperately for someone to ask for help. Behind me Kelsey was leading a chestnut gelding named Brandy out of his stall toward the stable door.
“Kelsey, I don’t know when we ride,” I gasped. “What am I going to do?”
“Read the schedule, silly,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s tacked to the wall right behind you.”
“Oh.” I grinned sheepishly. “Thanks.”
Kelsey shrugged and left the stable.
I turned and looked at the list of events. So many classes were listed that at first I had trouble finding my own. There were Junior and Senior Jump classes, Hunter Under Saddle (in which the riders showed off their horse’s manners), Hunter Over Fences (in which the riders rode their mounts over jumps), and all different levels of Equitation. Finally I saw my own class — Class Three, Beginning Equitation — right after the pony class.
I hurried back to Pax’s stall and then led him out of the stable into the bright sunlight. The paddock was full of horses and riders. The halter horses had finished their event and were being led back to the stables.
Now the pony class was entering the ring. The riders, who were about eight years old, were wearing caps, jackets, and high black riding boots like the rest of us. They looked so serious and cute, just like Shirley Temple in the movie The Little Princess. That made me think of Jessi, and I scanned the stands for her smiling face. I spotted her at the rail of the show ring. She was surrounded by the entire BSC, and once more my stomach did a flipflop.
“Beginning Equitation,” the loudspeaker blared above my head. “Class Number Three is on call in the paddock.”
“That’s me,” I yelped. I grabbed Pax’s reins and led him into the fenced enclosure.
“Mallory,” Lauren said as I joined the rest of my class. “You’re here. Good.”
“I — I’m sorry —” I stammered, but Lauren cut me off.
“Don’t worry, you’re right on time.” Lauren handed each of us a piece of cloth with a number printed on it, and a pair of safety pins. “Attach these to your jackets — top and bottom, please. That’s so the judge will be able to tell who’s who.” Her eyes were bright with excitement. “Now listen, mount your horses and walk them around the paddock. When the announcer calls the class into the ring, enter one at a time and stick to the right. The judge and her assistant — that’s the steward — will be standing in the middle of the ring. Once you’re all inside, they’ll close the gate and put you through your paces. Do exactly what the judge says.”
Every one of us must have had the same stricken look on our faces because Lauren burst out laughing.
“Don’t look so glum! Remember, the judge won’t ask you to do anything we haven’t done together a hundred times in class. So relax — and breathe!”
Twelve nervous riders exhaled at once, and we all started giggling. I walked Pax around the paddock, running over in my mind all the pressure commands for the different gaits. Before I knew it, the loudspeaker was blaring, “We’re now calling Class Three, Beginning Equitation, into the ring. Class Four, Intermediates, are on call.”
I followed my class out of the paddock. As we neared the entrance of the show ring, I gave Pax a gentle nudge with my heels. He stepped smartly through the opening, and I found myself staring at a sea of faces.
I heard a wave of applause start at one end of the bleachers and turn into a rushing sound that roared in my ears. Crisp images of the event stick in my mind like little snapshots. My family up in the bleachers, grinning and waving like goons. Jessi and the rest of the BSC on the rail down front, cheering as I passed by. The judge and her assistant standing in the center of the ring, their arms crossed, stern looks on their faces.
After we’d all entered the ring and the gate had been closed behind us, the judge said something to the steward, who gestured toward the announcer’s booth.
“Walk your horses, please,” the announcer said over the loudspeaker.
We did as we were told. We made a complete circle of the ring and then the steward gestured to the booth again.
“Trot your horses, please.”
The judge scribbled furiously on her clipboard while we posted around the ring. I tried my best not to look as clumsy and off balance as I felt. “Heels down, toes up!” I repeated over and over. When we reversed direction, a little voice inside me shouted, “Don’t forget your diagonal!”
The announcer then called, “Walk your horses, please.”
Pax settled into his comfortable walking pace and I let out a long breath of air. So far, so good.
“Canter your horses, please.”
I pressed my knee into Pax’s side and he obediently changed gaits. Then the announcer said, “Reverse your horses, please.”
Pax turned smartly, but I noticed Kelsey had trouble getting Brandy to take the right lead. I didn’t have time to gloat because the announcer was already asking us to come down from the canter to a trot. We returned to a walk and then the announcer told us to line up straight across the arena.
I nudged Pax in beside Allison and prayed that he’d stand still like he was supposed to. Megan was near the front of the line, slumping slightly in her saddle. I noticed the judge make a disapproving face and mark something on her clipboard. I sat up as straight as I could, making sure Pax was square toward the judge, just like Lauren had taught us.
We sat there for what seemed like an eternity. Then the judge handed a note to the steward, who nodded and walked quickly down the line of riders.
“You, you, you, you, you,” he said, pointing to Allison and four other riders, including David and Amber. Then he turned to me and added, “And you. Pull out and walk your horses around the ring, please.”
I was shocked. Barely thinking, I blindly followed the other horses into the line. The judge made us do everything again, only this time I was the one who goofed up when we reversed directions on the trot. I forgot my diagonal and it took me a second to correct my mistake.
We returned to the lineup and waited anxiously while the judge made a few more notes, then handed her clipboard to the steward, who ran it over to the announcer’s booth.
The announcement of the winners came over the loudspeaker: “First place in Beginning Equitation goes to Allison Anders riding Peaches.”
The steward pinned a blue ribbon to the bridle of Allison’s horse, while the audience applauded. Then the rest of the winners were announced. Amber placed second, a girl named Signe placed third, and David won a pink ribbon for fourth place. Fifth place was announced and then I heard my name blaring out over the speakers: “Sixth place goes to Mallory Pike riding Pax.”
The steward pinned a white ribbon on Pax’s bridle and then we were done. I couldn’t believe it. My butterflies were gone and my worries were over. Pax and I trotted back to the barn like a couple of champions.
“Sixth out of twelve,” Jessi said later as she and my brothers and sisters watched me comb down Pax. “That’s not bad.”
“Not bad?” I groane
d. “It’s pretty terrible.”
“Well, it means half the people in the class were better than you,” Vanessa said. “But you were better than the other half.”
I laughed. “When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound so awful.” I spotted my parents making their way toward me from the viewing stands. I whispered to Jessi, “But it’s a good excuse for not taking any more riding lessons. Now that they’ve seen how I ride, they’ll know that any more classes would be a waste of money.”
Boy, was I wrong about that. My father was beaming when he came into the stable. He scooped me up in his arms and shouted, “Mal, you looked spectacular out there.”
“Sixth place.” My mother gave me a big hug. “That’s pretty darn good for your first show.”
“First show?” I repeated.
“Of many,” my father added.
Mom squeezed my arm. “Your father and I talked it over and we’ve agreed to cover the full cost of your next eight lessons.”
“You’d really do that?” I asked.
“Absolutely.” My father draped his arm proudly around my shoulder. “You’re a real equestrienne now.”
I looked over at Jessi with a sinking feeling. There was no getting around it; I was going to have to tell them the truth. Jessi realized I needed to be alone with my parents, so she bent down and whispered to my brothers and sisters, “How many of you would like to look at the other horses with me?”
Of course they all wanted to. I flashed Jessi a look of thanks and then, taking a deep breath, faced my parents. “Mom. Dad. I have a confession to make.”
“What is it, honey?” My mother was still smiling.
I decided to get right to the point. “I really didn’t enjoy my lessons very much.”
“What?” Dad looked completely surprised.
“After I fell off that horse, I got really scared,” I explained. “I had to force myself to go to every lesson. It just wasn’t any fun.”
“Well, Mal, that’s understandable,” my mother replied. “But don’t you think a few more lessons will help you get over your fear?”
“Maybe later,” I said. “But I — I’m just not ready right now.”
Mom and Dad exchanged quick glances.
“Mallory, your mother and I don’t want to force you to do anything,” my father said slowly. “We just thought that since you loved horses so much —”
“Oh, I still do. I’m just not that crazy about riding them.”
“Are you sure about this?” my mother asked, studying my face.
“I’m positive. The idea of getting on a big horse again really frightens me. Maybe in a couple of years I’ll change my mind.”
My mother clasped my hand. “I know that must have been difficult to say, Mallory, and we’re really pleased you could be so straightforward with us.”
“That’s right,” my father agreed. “And listen, Mallory, if you do change your mind, we’ll be ready to help you out. Because frankly, I think you’ll make a fine rider someday.”
My father spoke so loudly that several of the riders from my class turned to stare and I could feel my cheeks turning bright pink (partly from embarrassment but mostly because I was happy that my parents were so proud of me).
Before I left the farm that afternoon, I asked Jessi to come say good-bye to Pax with me. He was in his stall, happily munching on a bucket of oats. I slipped in beside him and he pressed his muzzle against me. I tried to say good-bye but I couldn’t make my mouth form the words. Finally I buried my head in his neck and hugged him for a long time. When I looked up, Jessi was wiping her eyes.
“He really is the most beautiful horse in the world,” she said in a soft voice. “You’re so lucky to have known him, even if it was for a short time.”
“I know,” I replied. “I know.”
“It’s showtime!” yelled Nicky.
I couldn’t help giggling. It was Saturday morning and the Stars of Tomorrow talent show was about to begin. Every room in our house was filled with kids putting on makeup or struggling into a costume.
The triplets had volunteered to be the ticket takers in the backyard. Byron kept running through the house making announcements like, “We’re really packing ’em in!” or, “I think it’s going to be standing room only!”
He was right, too. Our backyard was filled with neighbors, their children, and a couple of dogs and cats. The entire BSC had come to show their support. Several of us were babysitting, so we had brought our charges along. Kristy brought her stepbrother, Andrew, and stepsister, Karen, her brother David Michael, and little Emily Michelle. They took up the entire front row.
Jessi and I sat behind them with Becca and Squirt and Charlotte Johanssen. Dr. Johanssen had called me that morning to see if I would mind watching Charlotte during the talent show. Of course, I said I didn’t mind. Charlotte and Becca were just about the only kids in our neighborhood who weren’t going to be in the Stars of Tomorrow talent show. But they had been adamant about not doing it. After their miserable experiences in the Little Miss Stoneybrook contest, both of them had sworn they would never appear on the stage again. But they made very enthusiastic audience members.
“Bring on the stars!” Becca shouted, clapping her hands.
Several older kids in the audience heard her cry and started clapping and chanting, “We want a show! We want a show!”
A dismayed look crossed Nicky’s face, and he ducked behind the curtains to confer with Vanessa. The curtains were still just blankets, only now big silver stars made of aluminum foil were pinned to them.
The triplets decided to do some crowd control. They ran to the front of the stage and yelled, “Quiet! Quiet! SHUT UP!”
“I knew their loud mouths were good for something,” I said, giggling, to Jessi.
Vanessa stepped through the curtains, dressed in white tights and my dad’s tuxedo jacket and bow tie. “Welcome to the first annual Stars of Tomorrow talent show,” she declared, “brought to you by the one and only Pike family.”
A cheer sounded from the triplets, who had taken up positions around the audience to make sure there were no hecklers. Then Vanessa gestured grandly to her right.
Nothing happened.
Finally she cupped her hands around her mouth and hissed, “Margo. You’re on.”
Margo stuck her head around the side of the curtains and blinked. “Now?”
Vanessa rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “Yes. Now.”
This sent a wave of laughter through the audience. At first Margo looked shocked and then she started giggling, too. In fact, she was laughing so hard she couldn’t read the piece of paper she held in her hand.
Finally Vanessa marched over to her side and said, “Give me that.” Vanessa studied the paper and announced, “Our first act will be Sean Addison on the tuba.”
Nicky stuck his head through the curtains and called, “Sean can’t find his tuba. He’s back here crying.”
“Well, help him find it,” Vanessa shot back, “and tell Buddy’s he’s on.”
“I think I saw Sean’s tuba in the kitchen,” I whispered to Jessi. “I’ll go get it.”
Jessi nodded. “Okay. And I’ll go help Sean.”
We left Becca, Squirt, and Charlotte seated on the grass. They were applauding wildly as a gray cat bolted across the stage, pursued by Pow the basset hound. Buddy and Suzi Barrett were both gripping his leash but weren’t having any luck getting him to stop.
“Hey!” Nicky shouted to them. “You’re not supposed to come on till after you’re introduced.”
Buddy ignored Nicky and just kept tugging on the leash. “Stop it, Pow,” he bellowed. “I mean it.”
Luckily the cat made a quick exit through a hedge and Pow’s leash caught on a tree by the stage.
Buddy didn’t seemed to be flustered at all. With a big grin on his face he turned to the crowd and announced, “I’m Buddy Barrett and this is my dog Pow, the fastest dog in the West. He also talks. Want to hear him?”<
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“Yes!” the audience shouted.
I made my way through the costumed kids who were clustered on our back porch and stepped inside the empty house. Sean’s tuba was just where he’d left it that morning — on the kitchen table. I picked it up and, after a quick look around to make sure no other instruments or costumes had been left behind, hurried back outside.
Buddy and Pow were just completing their jump-through-the-hula-hoop trick. To make sure Pow would make his leap through the hoop, Buddy had brought a large T-bone steak with him. I secretly wondered if Buddy’s mother knew what her son was using as bait.
Pow bounded through the hoop without any urging and promptly settled down to devour his steak. No amount of urging could get him to budge from his spot. Finally the triplets rushed to Buddy’s aid and the three of them dragged Pow, his steak clasped firmly between his teeth, off the stage.
The audience cheered and, while Vanessa waited for them to quiet down so she could announce the next act, I scanned the crowd. I was truly amazed at the turnout. People were still entering the yard. I spotted Dawn as she paid her admittance. She was carrying Eleanor Marshall on her hip and holding Nina’s hand. Dawn waved to me and I grinned back. After passing the tuba to Claire, who quickly took it backstage, I hurried over to say hello.
“Mow-ree!” Eleanor squealed.
“How’s the show going?” Dawn asked, flipping her sunglasses to the top of her head.
“It got off to kind of a rocky start,” I said with a grin. “But now it looks like it’s going to be a success.”
I felt a tug on my sleeve and saw Nina grinning up at me. “Mallory,” she said. “Guess what.”
I knelt down beside her. “I give up. What?”
“I brought Blankie to the show today.”
“Blankie?” I looked up at Dawn, who nodded.
“He’s in the front pocket of her shirt,” Dawn whispered.
Nina beamed proudly and patted the pocket. “But nobody knows except you and Dawn and Eleanor. It’s our secret.”
Mallory and the Dream Horse Page 9