Blue Ribbon Champ

by Marsha Hubler

  Like a lightning bolt, Skye pushed herself between Champ and Joey, forcing the boy back. She glared pitchforks at him and made a declaration that left no question of her intent. “Nobody but me rides my horse!”

  Chapter three

  Skye…” Mrs. Chambers whispered a soft reprimand. Folding her arms, Skye stood like a fortress. A brick wall couldn’t have said it better. “I’m going nowhere without Champ!”

  Joey’s eyes watered, and he was ready to cry. “Don’tcha want me to—to ride your horsey, Cloud?” he stammered. “I—I won’t hurt him.”

  “Young lady, we’ll discuss this later,” Mrs. Chambers said in no uncertain terms. She touched Joey’s shoulder and directed him gently toward the buckskin. “Aw, Joey, I think Bucky’s feelings would really be hurt if you didn’t ride him.”

  The horse glanced back and nickered.

  “See?” Mrs. Chambers said. “I think he remembers you. He wants to take you on a nice ride through the woods. What do you say?”

  “Okay!” Joey’s face brightened as he wiped his watery eyes. “He sure is a pretty horsey, ain’t he?”

  “He sure is. Now let me help you mount,” Mrs. Chambers said. “Grab the horn while I hold Bucky steady for you.”

  “Okay, Mrs. C.!” Joey beamed and then climbed onto the horse.

  Skye wasted no time grabbing Champ’s reins and mounting.

  Mrs. Chambers turned toward Skye and gently stroked Champ’s neck. “Joey probably would love to see Piney Hollow again. That will take less than an hour to ride out there and back. Now, what do you say, Skye?”

  As usual, when a tough challenge wound her into a tight knot, Skye chewed her lower lip. Her glance shifted from Mrs. Chambers to the bottom of the field, zeroing in on the trail through the woods that led to the campsite. Even with Joey that’ll be cool, she reasoned. Without a word, she stared at Mrs. Chambers.

  “Skye?” Mrs. Chambers said.

  “Okay.” Skye let out a stingy smile as she reined Champ. “No problem. Let’s go, Joey.”

  “Have a great time!” Mrs. Chambers said, swinging open the paddock gate.

  Back to lip chewing, Skye took the lead down through the field and focused on the task that lay before her. As Joey rambled on and on about his lovely queen, Skye stroked Champ’s neck and did her best to fulfill the promise she’d made to Mrs. Chambers. “Champ,” she said under her breath, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Then she smiled all the way into the woods.

  Weeks passed, and Skye was at war with herself. It had been months since she’d felt so confused about anything.

  Since she had accepted Christ, Skye and her feelings had been getting along quite well, she reasoned. But where was God in her life lately? He had always been there for her, and with her. But now, with the way she felt about Joey, God seemed so far away. She absolutely hated the way she felt, but she just couldn’t help it.

  Without success, Skye tried to remember the last time she had made a point to pray—about Joey or anything. And how about reading the Bible? Right now, she wasn’t even sure where her Bible was. Her bedroom had become a hideaway of frustration where she punched pillows and cried. Outside her room, she endured Joey, who never let her out of his sight. Horseback riding? Picnics? Board games during family time in the evenings? Joey was right there next to Skye. Every free minute she could find, Skye stowed away in the barn with Champ, the only one who seemed to really understand.

  With an attitude as sour as a rotten grapefruit, Skye found herself in frequent mother-daughter discussions with Mrs. C. But even the threat of groundings didn’t help Skye snap out of her sullen mood. On the calendar in her bedroom, she scored a huge red X on the day in August when Joey would leave Keystone Stables. Skye lived for that day.

  Skye also lived for Sunday school and her teen class more than ever. She cherished the time when Joey attended his own class. However, her joy was short-lived.

  In the church service, as usual, the Keystone Stables family and students filled an entire row. Without fail, Joey managed to squeeze himself in next to Skye. Total embarrassment arrived like clockwork when Joey would blurt out during chorus time every single Sunday, “My birthday’s in September!” While the pastor humored Joey, Skye would slide down in the pew, turn red-hot, and bury her face in her hands. The humiliation was almost too much to bear.

  Now Tuesday morning had arrived, and Skye was thrilled for a very special reason. No working with Joey today!

  The farmers’ market at the Snyder County Auction Grounds beckoned, and although all the new students were going, Skye hoped for the best. “Maybe today will be the start of my new life,” she joked with Morgan as the two sat in the backseat of the traveling minivan. “Maybe Joey’ll get lost.”

  As the van pulled into the market, the students exploded with chatter about the prospects of an exciting time. Joey, buckled in the seat in front of Skye, glanced back, wiggled his fingers and smiled, and squared his cowboy hat firmly just as Mr. Chambers always did. “Where are we, Mr. C.?” Joey yelled as he turned and looked out the side window.

  “At a place full of food and fun,” Mr. Chambers answered. “Keister’s Flea and Farmers’ Market!”

  “Ooh,” Joey yelled, “I don’t like fleas. They itch!”

  “They don’t itch,” another student said, “but they bite! My dog told me that once.”

  Mrs. Chambers looked back and smiled. “Kids, there are no fleas for sale. But wait until you see all the veggies, toys, and other things on display. You’ll love this place.”

  Skye folded her arms and glanced out the window, her heart racing with the thought of horse models of all shapes and sizes.

  Morgan’s words were packed with excitement. “Skye, what are you hunting for today? I’m going to see if there are any bargains on computer games. Remember last month when I found that old Star Wars game for just a dollar? Now, that’s a deal—and one that fits my budget.”

  As the van joined a caravan of vehicles creeping at a snail’s pace to park, Skye’s eyes darted wildly.

  On both sides of the road, vendors were selling their wares. Mounds of fresh cauliflower, broccoli, carrots, cabbage, and baskets of fresh fruit covered tabletops. Dozens of other tables, under canopies, displayed baseball cards, stuffed animals, old sleds, dolls, antique lamps, and used clothing. Adjoined to the backs of the stands were rows of trucks, vans, and Amish buggies, resting from their earlier arrival and hasty unloading.

  Eager vendors were making their pitch to a steady flow of shoppers. Other marketers lounged in the shade of their beach umbrellas. Hands folded on rounded bellies, they scrutinized every person who came near their wares.

  The shoppers, some already toting heavy bags, milled around the tables like ants after sugar cubes. Sunburned farmers in baseball caps mingled with plump ladies in tank tops and shorts. Wide-eyed children stared and, when mothers turned their backs, touched every toy they could reach.

  As usual, the market had drawn Amish folk from nearby farms. Bearded men in straw hats, white shirts, and black pants exchanged the latest news in Pennsylvania Dutch dialect. Their women—dressed in white caps, granny glasses, royal blue dresses, black aprons, and work boots—chatted in circles. Their children, carbon copies of the parents, stood close to the adults and eyed the tables with wonder. Keister’s market was definitely the place to be!

  Mr. Chambers drove the van onto a large field and found a place in one of the long rows of parked vehicles. Skye glanced back at the marketplace and spotted a table crowded with horse models of all shapes and sizes. She popped up in her seat as if she’d sat on a tack.

  “Horses!” she said as she pressed her nose flat against the window. “Morgan, look. There’s a table loaded with horses. That’s where I’m heading.”

  “Good,” Morgan replied. “I’m heading in the same direction.”

  In less than five minutes, Mr. Chambers had the van unloaded and had everyone ready to go, including Morgan in her Jazzy.

>   Skye did a quick mental review of her horse collection. Again, her heart raced with the prospect of finding another horse, one completely different from all the others. “Mom,” she said, slipping her fingers through her hair, “can Morgan and I go by ourselves?”

  Joey rushed to Skye’s side and grabbed her hand. “Cloud, my girlfriend, kin I go with you? Nobody’ll hurtcha today. See, I’m the sheriff.” Under his ten-gallon hat, full red cheeks blew on the star on his chest. Joey then radiated an effortless smile.

  “I don’t think so,” Skye said, quickly pulling her hand free. “Why don’t you—”

  “Joey,” Mr. Chambers said as he reached his arm around the boy’s shoulders, “Mrs. C. and I want to show you and the other guys something really neat inside the barn. Do you like rabbits?”

  “Wabbits? Ooh, yeah. They’re really fuzzy and cute. I love wabbits.”

  Mr. Chambers turned Joey toward the other students. “Well, then let’s go. We have a lot to see today.”

  Walking away with the group, Mrs. Chambers looked back at Skye and Morgan. “Girls, be back here at one o’clock.”

  “Okay, Mom!” Skye yelled.

  “One o’clock!” Morgan added as the two headed in the opposite direction.

  Melding into the crowd, the girls flowed with the river of passersby. Skye’s eyes darted wildly as she tried to look in every direction at once. The humid air, filled with the chatter of making a good deal, already clung to the girls like a sticky cloth. The hint of grilling hot dogs and french fries also hung in the haze, with faint wafts of horse manure infiltrating the food smells throughout the entire grounds.

  A half hour and a soda later brought the girls to a table piled high with old records in their jackets, VHS tapes, and used computer games.

  “This is the table I saw on the way in.” Morgan’s freckles danced with a radiant smile. “Look at all these games.”

  But Skye had something else on her mind. Glancing across the road, she spotted her target on the right. “Hey, over there are the horses, about six tables on the other side.”

  “You go ahead…” Morgan never looked up from a game box she was studying. “I’ll catch up with you in a while.”

  Skye glanced at her watch, smiled, and took off toward the table. Two more hours!

  At the horse table, children as well as adults had lined up like cows at a water trough. Skye excused herself and squeezed right up front. The vendor, sitting in a lawn chair in the shade of his truck, let out a lazy yawn and scratched his curly white hair. Hmm, Skye thought, he must know horses are in. I guess he doesn’t need to “sell.”

  Skye studied the display, her heart pounding like a hammer in her chest. On her left, she saw a shoebox filled with dozens of tiny plastic horses in an array of equine colors. Next to the box stood a row of the tiniest crystal glass horses, probably not new, but very nice. In the center stood three Breyer stallions, one white, one brown, one black. On the right stood a cluster of inch-high polished-stone ponies, and next to those stood six large plastic dappled grays with saddles and chain bridles. Each in its own box, they stood almost a foot tall and were brand-new.

  “Wow!” Skye said to herself. “I don’t have any dappled grays, and no horse as big as these either!” Picking up a box, she searched for a price. She glanced at the owner who had not moved but now watched Skye like a hawk.

  Pointing at the box, she smiled.

  Four! The vendor raised his fingers but barely lifted his hand off his stomach.

  Skye did some quick figuring as she reached into her pocket. Five dollars minus a soda equals four fifty, she reasoned. I can live on fifty cents for the rest of the week. I gotta have that horse.

  Before her next thought, Skye found the vendor standing right in front of her and eyeing her money like it was gold.

  One plastic horse richer, Skye clutched the box as if it were made of gold and turned just as Morgan came motoring toward her.

  “Hey, Skye,” she said, “you should see the neat game I got—hey! Look behind you. There’s Mrs. C. She looks worried, and she’s in an awful hurry. She’s coming this way.”

  “Mom, what’s the matter?” Skye asked as the three stepped away from the table and out of the flow of traffic.

  “Have you seen Joey?” Mrs. Chambers’ face pleaded for a positive response.

  “No,” Morgan said. “We thought he was with you guys.”

  “He was,” Mrs. Chambers said. “But we let the boys go to the bathroom inside the barn. We waited and waited for Joey, but he didn’t come out. Finally, Tom went in and discovered a back door that he never knew was there. Joey must have gotten disoriented and slipped out that way. He’s missing. I’m on my way to report this to the main office. In the meantime, you two go up and down every row of tables in this section, and check between the cars in the parking lot. We’ve got to find him.”

  “Sure, Mrs. C.,” Morgan said, pivoting toward the crowd. “Come on, Skye. Let’s go.”

  Mrs. Chambers turned. “If you find him, bring him to the office. I’m sure they have a loudspeaker system here. You can let us know that way. Report there in fifteen minutes whether you find him or not.”

  Skye shoved the horse under her arm, and her insides erupted with selfish anger. “Well, this is just great,” she said, her face shriveling up like a moldy prune. “Joey’s not even with me today, and he’s still managing to ruin my life!”

  Chapter four

  Will you get a life!” Rare as a snowstorm in July, sweet, calm Morgan gave Skye a piece of her mind. “Joey could be hurt, or he could be wandering out near the highway. We have to find him.”

  “Hey, I didn’t think of that,” Skye admitted. “As usual, you’re right. Let’s split up. We can cover more ground that way. I’ll do this whole lower end with all the vendors and food stands. Do you want to check the parking lot?”

  Morgan had already turned her wheelchair in that direction. “Sure thing. I’ll get that done in a jiff. I’ll meet you at the office in fifteen minutes.”

  “Okay. Maybe Mom and Dad will have found him by then, and they’ll be there waiting. He’s probably standing in a corner of the barn, staring holes through some animals.”

  “I sure hope so.” Morgan started edging her way into the flow.

  Skye shoved her fingers through her hair, let out a frustrated sigh, and set out to find Joey. Weaving in and out of the crowd, she checked every stand on both sides of the road. But the market’s wares were fascinating, and her eyes wandered again, focusing every now and then on the menagerie of items up for sale.

  Skye glanced at her watch. Ten minutes had passed and no sign of Joey. As she headed toward the food stands, Skye’s conscience pricked her. We’ve got to find that kid, she told herself.

  Then she spotted something.

  At the last vendor on Skye’s left, a magnificent display of halters, bridles, and blankets in a rainbow of colors caught her eye. In the center of three tables, an Amish man stood, polishing a brand-new stainless-steel bit. Next to the buggy in the back a plump woman sat, garbed in black, stitching a red and white blanket. With dress, bib, and cap strings smothering her neck, the woman’s full cheeks matched the red on the blanket as sweat beads trickled down her face. After every few stitches, she poked at her glasses, which insisted on creeping to the end of her nose and thwarting her delicate work.

  “Wow!” Skye stared at the blanket in the woman’s hands. “Would Champ ever look good in that!”

  Making her way to the table, Skye feasted her eyes on the display. Picturing Champ tacked in all the fancy gear, Skye completely forgot why she was there. She picked up a black leather halter and inspected its fine tan stitching and shiny brass parts. Abruptly, someone grabbed her from behind.

  “Cloud, my girlfriend!” Joey shouted in Skye’s ear. “I found you. You were lost, weren’tcha?”

  “Oh, Joey! You’re here!” Skye said as her nerves jumped. Pulling away from the boy, she quickly dropped the halter. As she did, J
oey spun her around and sucked her into his chest.

  “I—I love you, Cloud,” Joey babbled and kissed her cheek like he was sucking lemons. “You should be more careful so that you don’t get lost!”

  Boisterous Joey attracted an audience like a barker at a state fair. Passersby stared, children giggled, and Skye turned red-hot. Pulling away again, she glared at his smiling cheeks smeared with ketchup.

  “Cut it out, Joey!” Skye pleaded, wiping slobbery ketchup off her face. “Where have you been? Everybody’s looking for you. Come on. We need to go to the—”

  “Well, if it isn’t Skye Nicholson!” a cocky voice sang from behind, and the words stuck in Skye’s back like poison darts. “I haven’t seen you since you were pleasantly removed from Madison!”

  Skye turned. There in all her brazen glory, in the best summer clothes money could buy, stood the one and only Miss Snoot of Madison Middle. With her were two other girls, noses stuck high in the air.

  Hannah Gilbert! Skye’s face burned with fire, her eyes darting in all directions. If I ever needed a rock to crawl under, it’s right now!

  “Who’s your boyfriend, Skye?” Hannah flipped back her long blonde curls and lifted her nose to match her two friends’. “Someone you met at camp?” The other girls hissed like vipers stalking their prey.

  “For your information,” Skye said, flipping back her own hair, Hannah-style, “he’s just one of our summer students. I’m babysitting, if you have to know.”

  “Cloud’s my girlfriend!” Joey chimed in. “Are you Cloud’s friends? Cloud says she has lots of friends.”

  “Y-e-s-s-s,” Hannah said with a sarcastic flair, “we’re all Cloud’s friends, aren’t we, girls?”

  “Best friends, in fact,” one of the other girls spewed out.

  “I like all Cloud’s friends!” Joey bubbled. Before Hannah knew what was coming, Joey wrapped his arms around her and planted a slobbery, ketchupy kiss on her cheek. “That’s not really true,” he announced. “I love Cloud’s friends, and Jesus loves you too.”