by Jessie Haas
It all spilled out, Chess talking rapidly now as if to make up for how quiet she’d been before. Cows—the whole world overheating because people eat meat, and cow farts contain methane that causes global warming, and there wouldn’t be cows if people didn’t eat meat and drink milk. And eggs—chickens packed in cages so they couldn’t even move, just because people wanted to eat eggs.
“We’re going to get carriage horses out of cities, too,” Chess said. “We’re going to set them free. Nana just helped a whole bunch of ponies that were being forced to give rides. The police took them away from the owner and they’re going to be retired—”
“Retired where?” Joni asked. Her voice came out loud, rudely loud, and she didn’t care. “Where will the ponies go?”
“I don’t know,” Chess said, blinking. “Probably a shelter—”
“No,” Joni said. “Shelters for horses are usually full.”
“You don’t know that,” Chess said. “This was California—”
“It’s expensive to keep horses,” Joni said. “Everywhere! That’s why they need to have jobs, like those ponies did. Do you know what happens to horses that don’t have jobs? They get sold by the pound! For meat!”
Chess’s face went pale. But after a moment, she lifted her chin. “Maybe that’s better than a life of misery.”
“And maybe it’s not!” Joni said. Her voice just came out of her. She didn’t have to think. “Because, pony-ride ponies? They’re usually not good at anything else! They’re old and slow and plain, but they’re gentle, and they have a job, and it’s easy! All they have to do is walk. Maybe it doesn’t look exciting, but it beats being dead!”
Chess stared stubbornly back at her, lips firmly pressed together.
Suddenly, Joni wanted Archie. She wanted to see him, touch him, hug him. She wanted to mount up and ride away, as fast as she could.
“I’ve got to go,” she said, and as soon as it came out, she knew what she was really saying.
Chess did, too. She hesitated, then asked, “Can I still come see the kittens?”
“Why do you even want to?” Joni asked.
Chess made a sound like a hiccup. “Because they’re kittens! I can’t help it!”
“I don’t know,” Joni said. “Call me in a couple of days.”
She walked down the stairs. Chess followed. Joni didn’t know why, because this was over. There was no point in even being polite about it.
“Leaving already?” Mrs. Ventura asked as they passed through the kitchen. “I was going to make cookies.”
“That’s okay,” Joni said. “Thanks.”
They went out to the barn. Archie nickered when he saw them, thrusting his head over the stall door. Joni didn’t hug him, not with Chess there. She saddled up, led him out, and mounted.
“’Bye,” Chess said. She looked small and her face was smudged, but Joni didn’t feel sorry for her. Without a word, she turned Archie toward the bridge and let him trot, and when she reached the brook trail, she let him gallop.
She clattered up into the farmyard, which was full of activity. Olivia and Rosita were talking in the cheese house. Tobin drove the tractor toward the upper hayfield, pulling the rake. The Bears woofed in friendly greeting. The border collies waited in the back of the truck for Dad, and the mother cat waited at the door of the house with a mouse in her jaws.
Chess wanted to end all this. She didn’t understand keeping animals, she thought it was slavery, and they couldn’t be friends, not ever. And that might not be the worst of it. Would they have Chess in a dog crate someday, out in front of the milking parlor?
Joni stripped off Archie’s tack, rubbed him down, and gave him carrots, as he demanded. Now, finally, she could hug his neck. He jerked his head up when her arms went around him, making it difficult, but Joni hung on, pressing her face against his springy mane and breathing him in. With an annoyed sigh, he stopped trying to shrug her off and let her lean there.
The usual peace didn’t come. Joni felt angry, and proud of herself. She’d spoken up, finally. She really had. But she also felt as if she’d broken something valuable, and no one knew it yet.
She turned Archie loose and went outside. This was one of the times when the border collies only imagined Dad was going to take them somewhere. Really, he was leaning into the depths of the baler. It was a cranky old piece of machinery that liked to make alarming sounds and grind to a halt when there was a lot of hay to get in.
“Is it broken?” Joni asked.
“Not yet.” Dad looked up. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Joni didn’t know how to say it. Finally, she just said, “Chess.”
“The animal rights thing? Olivia showed us that picture,” Dad explained.
Joni nodded. “Are we—is it—why is it okay? That we raise sheep and eat them?”
Dad leaned against the baler, crossing his arms. “Why is it okay?” he repeated thoughtfully. “Well, it’s our nature. We’re one of the animals that eats other animals, like the wolves and lions.”
“And that’s okay?” Joni asked. “That we’re lions?”
“Well, unlike the lions, we actually take care of the sheep,” Dad said. “And it’s not all okay. That’s why we don’t buy eggs from chickens kept in tiny cages, or meat from cattle kept in feedlots. I give my own animals a life that’s as close to nature as I can make it. I owe them that. It’s part of the deal.”
“But we don’t have to eat meat,” Joni said. “We could stop, right?” Why was she pushing this? She wasn’t Chess, and she wasn’t Chess’s friend, so why did she have to win Chess’s argument? Still, it seemed important.
Dad said, “I need the sheep to have lambs so I have milk for cheese making. I can’t keep them all, so some get eaten. Sure, I could stop making cheese, Joni. I could get rid of the sheep. But this is the way I’ve figured out to make a living on this farm, and to build the soil. The way we graze our sheep puts carbon back into the ground. It cools the planet, and it makes great cheese. I think it’s ethical. More than ethical—for me, it’s practically holy! But I’m aware that I could be wrong. It’s all a great mystery. Why we’re here on earth. What we’re for.”
He paused, waiting for Joni to say something. But what was there to say?
“All I know is, I bow my head,” Dad said. “I ask to be guided. I honor the animals—their nature and their sacrifice. I thank them for the life they’ve let me make. You’re free to choose a different life, Joni, if that seems right to you.”
Joni nodded. It seemed impossible to speak. She didn’t know what seemed right anymore, and she didn’t want a different life, and her heart felt too large for her chest, smothering her.
“Hey,” Dad said. “Want a hug? ’Cause I sure do!”
Joni went to lean into his arms. She heard the scrabble of claws as the border collies launched from the back of the pickup. A moment later, two jealous sharp-nosed heads pushed in between her legs and Dad’s. Dad smelled like sheep and sunshine, and a little bit like tractor grease. She rested her cheek on his T-shirt and sighed, and didn’t cry after all, though she still felt the hard lump in her chest. “I can’t wait for camp.”
“This friendship’s pretty complicated, isn’t it?”
“We’re not friends,” Joni said.
“I’m sorry.” Dad rubbed the back of her head with one hand, patting dogs with the other, and they all stood together for several minutes. Dad didn’t talk, or try to make it okay, and Joni was grateful for that.
And she was grateful to have a bedroom full of kittens to spend the rest of the morning with, and a table full of people to eat lunch with. Grandma DeeDee dropping by. Customers at the cheese shop. Joni was glad to see them all. This wasn’t a day to be alone.
In the afternoon, she helped get in the hay, after changing out of her redesigned T-shirt. She still liked it, anyway. Dad drove one tractor around the field with the baler chugging behind him, spitting out a bale every couple of minutes. Olivia drove the other tractor,
pulling the wagon. When she came to a heap of bales, she stopped, and she and Tobin put them on the wagon. Joni wasn’t strong enough to lift them that high, so she and Rosita got on the wagon and stacked.
The first bale took all of Joni’s strength, even with Rosita’s help. How could she pick up the next one? But she did, and then another, and another, until she stopped wondering. Of course she could. The rough grass stems prickled her arms, and the baling twine hurt her hands. When Olivia noticed that, she pulled off her gloves and tossed them up. They were too big, but they helped. The bales built up higher and higher, until Joni and Rosita were riding on a castle that moved slowly across the hilltop, almost bumping the clouds. A sweet, dry scent surrounded them, and a haze of sunlit dust.
From her great height, Joni looked down on Olivia and Tobin. They moved easily together, working hard, but there was a kind of zing between them. Joni hadn’t seen them kissing or holding hands yet, but she was sure that was in the works.
“That’s turning into a great romance!” Rosita said dryly.
“I guess so.”
“Not the summer you hoped for, is it?” Rosita said. “Me, either, actually. I was going to spend it with my best bud—but, hey! I introduced them.”
“He’s nice, right?” Joni asked.
“I’ve known him since we were in fourth grade,” Rosita said. “He’s nice to the bone, and smart—everything you could hope for in a best friend’s boyfriend!” She laughed in a sort of sad way, and Joni wondered if Rosita wished Tobin had fallen in love with her. Or maybe she just wanted a sliver of Olivia’s attention. Good luck with that!
They filled two huge wagons, and that was all of the hay for today. Dad backed the wagons into the barn. “We’ll unload them tomorrow,” he said. “Let’s wash up and eat!”
This was the first time Joni had really helped get hay in, not just ridden on the wagon. She was surprised at how good she felt. Like Mrs. Abernathy said—she’d spent hours in the heat, lifting bales that were too heavy for her over and over and over again, but she was still standing upright. She felt tired and itchy and starved, but strong.
Half an hour later, freshly showered, everyone gathered at the picnic table. Mom lit candles, though it was still light out. “On your menu this evening,” she said, setting a huge lasagna pan down. “Garden salad, fresh peas, and mac and cheese made with our own cheese.”
Dad reached for the serving spoon and ladled a huge scoop of mac and cheese onto Tobin’s plate. He said, “This is how we eat the grass.”
NINETEEN
Wave. Say Hi.
Joni woke the next morning with kittens draped all over her, and the mother cat lying on her chest. Something had seeped into her body from theirs, and she felt as relaxed as they were. She lay there watching how her breath lifted and dropped them. How nice it must be to lie on top of a large, trusted, breathing creature. What if the earth breathed?
Then she thought of Chess and her breath stopped lifting them so high.
She eased out from under the kittens and got dressed, putting on the T-shirt Chess had fixed yesterday. At least she’d learned how to do that!
Mom was sitting at the kitchen table with her long hair down her back and her beautiful leather-bound notebook in front of her. Joni fixed a bowl of cereal with milk and strawberries and sat down across from her. Mom’s pen kept going for a few moments, then hesitated, then stopped. She looked up.
“You okay, Joni?”
Dad must have told her about Chess. Joni shrugged, with her mouth full.
“Well, here’s how things are going for me!” Mom said. “The summer quiet that I wanted very badly has been filled up with serious young people talking about soil carbon and rotational grazing. The family I cook for has doubled in size. So I’ve decided to go on a writing retreat for a couple of days.”
“Will you be back before I go to camp?”
“Yes, I’ll come see you off. But you’d better start packing, Joni. I don’t want it to be like last year.”
Joni laughed. “I forgot my girth, remember?”
“I don’t remember it being funny at the time,” Mom said. “So—apparently, Rosita can cook. You can show her where things are. Your dad knows how to reach me, but I’m sure that won’t be necessary. Olivia’s going to keep the farm store stocked. Still, check on that, Joni, will you? You’re more familiar with it than she is. Is that all okay?”
It had to be okay, and of course Joni said it was. Mom looked at her skeptically, then kissed her own fingers and reached across the table to press them on Joni’s forehead. “I’m sorry, Jon-Jon. I’m just really hungry for some peace and quiet.”
“A lot of people would laugh at that,” Joni said.
“A lot of people don’t actually live on farms!” Mom said.
Joni walked her out to her car. As Mom put her laptop in the trunk, Danae’s mother drove in and pulled up beside the farm store. Danae and Alyssa got out. “Mom needs eggs,” Danae said, “and we need kittens!”
“Okay,” Joni said. She hugged Mom goodbye and turned to them.
Alyssa was looking at Joni’s T-shirt. “Wow, did you do that?”
“Chess did,” Joni said, leading the way to her bedroom.
“Cool! I’m totally getting her to show me.”
Joni made herself say, “Okay, but—I’m not friends with her anymore.”
She shut the door quickly as kittens surged toward it. For once, they weren’t the center of attention. “Talk,” Danae said.
“She’s crazy into animal rescue,” Joni said.
“Well—we’re into animal rescue,” Alyssa said. She wasn’t in 4-H, but she came to Kalysta’s sometimes.
Joni shook her head, picking up a random kitten to cuddle against her cheek. “Yesterday? She told me her grandmother got these poor pony-ride ponies taken away from their owner and … I mean, they probably died! And when I told her that, she said maybe they were better off dead!”
Danae’s eyes widened. Alyssa said, “Intense!” Which was funny. Of the three of them, Alyssa was the intense one. But it was true. Chess was way, way too intense.
“But I still have to ride by her house,” Joni said. “What do I say?”
“Don’t go that way,” Danae said.
“No,” Alyssa said. “Joni needs to be able to ride wherever she wants. Besides—Chess will be in our class. She’ll ride on our bus—like, forever! So we need to deal. Anyway, you don’t hate her, Joni, right?”
“No, I … like her. Sometimes.”
“So just ride by the house and wave,” Alyssa said. “Or … maybe she wants to come see the kittens?”
“She does,” Joni said. “She has been.”
“If she asks to come over, call us,” Alyssa said. “We’ll come down. It’s easier if there’s more people. We can all be friendly without being friends-friends—and if we’re watching kittens, we won’t have to talk about anything else!”
Kittens were no guarantee with Chess, but Joni felt better. Smile. Wave. Call her friends. It sounded doable. “You guys are the best!”
“Oh, yes!” Danae said. “We have certificates and everything!”
After they left, Joni picked a fresh bouquet of red clover and buttercups for the store. She was cutting more cheese samples when Mrs. Abernathy came in. “I was hoping I’d see you! How’s the riding? Did the lesson hold?”
Joni hesitated. “Kind of.”
“You should have one more before camp,” Mrs. Abernathy said. “Can you come over this morning? We’ll use my back field. It’s flat and shady.”
So right away she’d have to ride past Chess’s house. “Could we do it here?” Joni wanted to suggest. But, no, she had a plan. Wave. Say hi. “Okay,” she said.
“Good. See you around te—no, today’s Wednesday, isn’t it? Wednesday mornings are dedicated to the chiropractor. How about three thirty?”
“Okay,” Joni said. “See you then!”
In the house, she checked for phone messages. “A cou
ple of days,” she’d told Chess, but she was pretty sure Chess would want to see the kittens sooner than that.
Nothing.
So maybe this would be completely easy. Maybe Chess wouldn’t even come out when she rode by on the road. Maybe they wouldn’t see each other until school started in September and they rode the high school bus together. It would be the four of them then, a school friendship, and that would be fine. Joni had plenty of friends she never saw except in school.
The house felt empty. Everybody else was making cheese or working outside. “Yeah, Mom, try to find someplace quiet!” Joni muttered.
She got out her 4-H binder and read the camp handouts. There was a timetable of stable inspections, a lesson schedule, and a long list of things she needed to have in her tack trunk. That’s what she should do—clean Archie’s tack. She’d have to do it every day while she was up there, but she should start with a good basic cleaning now. And that would impress Mrs. Abernathy!
It had been a long time since she’d soaped her saddle and hackamore. She got filthy, but it was fun to make the leather shine again. Mrs. Abernathy, though, would be looking for buckle gunk. Whatever that was.
Joni examined the hackamore buckles. They looked the way they always looked. She scraped at the dark-looking metal with her thumbnail.
It wasn’t dark-looking metal. It was gunked-up, filthy metal!
She rubbed it with a cloth. That made a small difference. She went up to Dad’s shop and got some steel wool out of the toolbox and polished the buckle with that until it glittered. How many buckles were on this thing?
She polished them all. When she was done, the leather surrounding the buckles was dull from flaked-off gunk. Joni soaped it again. Now the buckles had a light frosting of gray soap foam. At least this came off with a cloth, and, finally, the hackamore looked stellar. She couldn’t wait for Mrs. Abernathy to see it.
Rosita’s lunch was toasted cheese sandwiches with arugula and garlic chives, and iced tea brightened up with fresh bee balm. “Rosita used to make gourmet sandwiches with college cafeteria food!” Olivia said proudly. “She should totally have a restaurant someday.”