High Hurdles

by Lauraine Snelling

  “We had a squirrel nest in a tree in our backyard. Three babies. The mother yelled at us if we got too close.” Angie nudged her horse forward. “They’re all grown now. They come down to our deck for peanuts.”

  “My grandpa used to tame squirrels, but we haven’t had any in our yard for a while. The neighbors cut down their tree and the squirrels left.” The two girls rode side by side. “You excited about the show tomorrow?”

  “Scared. When I get too scared I throw up. What if I throw up tomorrow?” Angie shuddered. “I’ll just die. I know I will.”

  They crested the top of the last hill and rode into the open meadow. Briones Crest Trail stalked the higher ridge off to their left. The green grass of spring had dried to straw, painting the hills in shades of tan and gold. Two black turkey vultures rode the thermals above them, seeming to drift without a flicker of feather.

  “We riding to the top?” Amy called back. She and the other riders were trotting the fire road that curved around the meadow and up to the trail.

  “ ’Course. We can eat when we come back down.” DJ nudged Megs into a canter. “Come on, Angie, let’s catch ’em.”

  By the time they’d ridden to the top of the crest trail, where they watched a red fox slinking over the top of yet another hill, they were more than ready to eat.

  “Wait a minute.” DJ hissed the command. “Stop.”

  When all were silent, she pointed to a gentle hollow in a hill across the small valley. Three deer grazed as if they’d never before seen humans. One raised its head, big ears poised to catch any unusual sound. “Ohhh,” Angie breathed a sigh of delight. “They are so pretty.”

  “The little one must be this year’s fawn,” Amy spoke softly, moving only her lips.

  One of the horses tossed its head, the bit jangling loudly in the silence.

  The other two deer raised their heads. With a single motion, they leaped the dirt bank and bounded up the hill. Once they disappeared over the crest, DJ nudged Megs forward.

  “Come on, let’s go eat.”

  They dismounted under some trees and, after removing their bridles, slipped on halters and tied their horses to low branches. While two girls used a fallen log for a chair, the rest sat cross-legged in the dead leaves and forest duff.

  “Did you check for poison oak?” DJ finished inspecting everyone’s tie knots before joining them with the lunch out of her saddlebag.

  “Yep, Amy did.” Angie leaned back against the log. She took a long drink from her water flask. “I could eat a bear.”

  “Yuk.”

  “Better’n eating a horse.”

  “Angie!” The other girls groaned in unison.

  For a time there was only the sound of munching. DJ crunched a carrot stick between bites of her sandwich. She and Amy swapped grins. This was about as good as it got.

  “Just think, when you have Major next summer, maybe we can both go on the Sierra trip.” Amy leaned back on her elbows. “I think that would be the best thing ever.”

  “How old do you have to be?” Sam looked up from digging for something in her saddlebag.

  “Twelve, unless you have parents who can ride along.” DJ swatted at a yellow jacket that was exploring the top of her soda can. “Get out of here, bee.”

  Angie ducked when it flew by her. “I wish my dad could take me. He says he loves to ride but just doesn’t have time.”

  “Mine too.” Krissie put the lid back on her sandwich container. “Just think, riding every day for a whole week!”

  “Camping out . . . cooking over a fire.”

  “Ants in your food.” Amy brushed one of the tiny creatures off her hand. “They show up everywhere.” She ducked and shooshed the persistent yellow jacket away. “Beat it, buzzer.”

  “Owww. Oh no!” Angie swatted at her hand.

  “Did he sting you?” DJ felt her heart leap.

  “Yes. DJ, help.” Angie scrambled to her feet. Eyes wide, her mouth an O. “Help me. I won’t be able to breathe!”

  CHAPTER • 5

  DJ leaped to her feet. She dashed toward the horses, only slowing in time to keep them from shying. Why hadn’t she brought the saddlebags with her? Or at least the bee kit. What kind of a teacher was she?

  She fumbled in the first saddlebag but came up empty-handed. She could hear Amy cautioning the girls to be calm. Please, God, don’t let Angie quit breathing. The prayer beat in DJ’s mind at the same pace as her thudding heart.

  Megs backed away when DJ hurried around her to get into the other saddlebag. “Easy, girl.” But DJ could tell her own actions were anything but easy. Calm down! She made herself stop and take a deep breath as her fingers closed over the plastic box. But her mind continued to race. I’ve never given a person a shot before. What do I do? A more calm voice spoke gently but firmly. Just read the instructions. You’ve seen lots of shots given, just do the same.

  “She’s starting to wheeze,” Samantha called. “Hurry, DJ.”

  “It’s going to be all right, Angie, take it easy. The more uptight you get, the worse it will be.” Amy acted as if they did this every day.

  What if the shot doesn’t work? The reassuring voice came again. It will. Was this what listening to God’s voice was like? DJ felt herself calming down. She took another deep breath as she dropped to her knees on the ground beside the wheezing girl.

  Angie’s chest rose and fell with each struggling breath, as though she were being pumped by a bellows—slowly. Sweat broke out on her forehead.

  Angie looked up at DJ. “I don’t want to die.”

  “You won’t.” Amy wiped the girl’s hair back from her forehead. “Come on, you’ve been through this before. You can tell DJ what to do.”

  “No, I don’t remember.” Her breathing sounded like a marathon runner’s who’d just crossed the finish line.

  In, out, in, out. DJ could feel her own breaths come in time with Angie’s, as though she were trying to breathe for the girl.

  DJ held the prefilled syringe between her teeth and ripped open the square packet of alcohol rub. She took the syringe out of her mouth. “Easy, Angie—just bend your arm like you do at the doctor’s office. Good. Now we’ll wipe it . . .” DJ’s actions followed her words. She dropped the gauze square on the ground. “And . . .” She closed her eyes. Please, God. With a quick jerk, she pulled the cap off and, without giving herself time to think, stabbed the needle into Angie’s bicep.

  After depressing the plunger, DJ pulled the needle out and sat back on her heels. Her heart raced like a bike going downhill with a tailwind. She put the cap back on the syringe. “Thank you, God.” Her whisper blended with the agonized sound of Angie’s breathing.

  “That . . . didn’t even . . . hurt. You’re good.” Angie leaned back against Amy’s knees and chest. Her eyes closed and she tried to take a deep breath. Instead, she coughed.

  “Easy, just think about how much fun we’ve had. Seeing the deer on the hillside.” DJ kept her voice smooth and gentle. The singsong worked with horses, why not a sick kid?

  “You want me to ride down and get help?” Amy asked, her hands busy smoothing Angie’s forehead.

  DJ forced her careening mind to stop and think. “Maybe you better. But Mrs. Lincoln said this stuff really works, if we get it into Angie fast enough.”

  “Do you think we did—get it in quick enough, I mean?”

  “I’ll go,” Sam volunteered.

  DJ looked up to see the scared expressions on the faces of the other girls. “No, Sam, but thanks. Amy will get help, if anyone. I can’t take a chance on someone else getting hurt.” Why’d I ever let this happen? Maybe Angie shouldn’t do this kind of thing. But she wants to so bad. Why couldn’t the stupid bee have stung me instead?

  “I’m getting better, DJ. I can feel it.” Angie reached out a shaky hand and stuck it in DJ’s.

  A rash of relieved giggles broke out from the other girls. Both flopped back on the ground as if someone had just cut their puppets’ strings. “Angie,
that was the scariest thing I ever saw.”

  “Man, DJ, you did that just like a nurse.” Krissie pointed a finger at DJ. “You are awesome.”

  Angie sat up on her own. While she was still wheezing, now it was more like a whistle than a freight train. “Thanks, DJ, you saved my life.”

  DJ blinked her eyes and gritted her teeth. She would not cry now, not in front of these girls. She looked up at Amy to see a sheen of moisture in her dark eyes. A smile trembled at the sides of her mouth.

  DJ rolled her lips together, licked them, and took a deep breath. “Well, girls, you all finished with your lunches?” She looked around at heads shaking no. “Okay, then let’s do that. If I don’t get something to drink, I might faint.”

  Amy handed DJ her water bottle. “Drink fast. We don’t want any fainting up here. We might have to give you a shot . . .”

  “A shot of water will do just fine.” DJ glugged and felt the boulder stuck in her throat go down with the water.

  Krissie picked up the syringe and the leftover pieces of the bee kit. “Here, DJ, we don’t want to be litterbugs.”

  “No way.” Sam started to giggle, then Krissie. DJ and Amy tried to keep straight faces.

  Angie giggled, wheezed, and giggled some more. “We c-could litter th-the ground with b-bees.” She fell back against the log, her laughter growing stronger with each easing breath.

  “Dead bees.”

  “Definitely dead bees.” They all rolled on the ground, clutching their stomachs and wiping their eyes.

  “Wh-what’s s-so funny?” DJ made the mistake of looking at Amy. She knew better.

  “G-got me.”

  Finally the giggles let up.

  “I have to go to the bathroom.” Angie lay on the ground, the back of one hand over her eyes.

  “Pick a tree—any tree.” Sam waved her hand. “We have plenty.”

  “Sure, and get stung on my rear this time.”

  That did it. The girls fell against one another, their giggles floating up through the branches like a strange kind of bird song. DJ tried to take another drink from the water bottle and ended up blowing the water out her nose.

  “Ow. Knock it off. See what you made me do?”

  By now Angie could laugh without wheezing. She was making up for lost time. Every time one person calmed down, another started in. Finally they all lay flat on the leaves and dried grass. Better giggling than crying, DJ thought, gazing up through the gnarly oak branches above them. Sunbeams outlined the leaves. DJ drew in a deep breath and let a prayer float up toward heaven. Thank you, God. I couldn’t have done it without you.

  “DJ, you want one of my cookies?” Angie nudged DJ’s shoulder with her boot toe.

  “Sure.” DJ pushed herself upright and accepted the offer. Munching and sitting spraddle-legged, she studied her group. While they all had bits of leaves and twigs in their hair and could use a good dusting, no one looked the worse for wear. Her heart had resumed residence in its normal place, and when she held up a hand, it no longer trembled like a leaf in a windstorm.

  “Thanks, Angie. Good cookie.”

  “I made them.”

  “Wow, you can come bake cookies for me anytime.” DJ rose to her feet and dusted off her rear. “You guys ready to hit the trail?”

  “No, I’d rather stay up here.” Angie finished packing her saddlebags.

  “Yeah, well, if one of those mean bees comes after you again, we’re fresh outta bee kit.” DJ extended a hand to pull the girl to her feet. “And I’m just so grateful you’re all right that next time I’ll pack a whole case of ’em.” She turned Angie around and brushed her off. The girls took turns doing the same for one another. By the time they rode back into the academy lot, the beesting was nearly a forgotten incident, until the girls started telling their mothers about it.

  “Should we call your mother and have her take you to the doctor?” DJ stopped by Angie’s stall where she was unsaddling her horse.

  Angie shook her head. “Once I’m breathing okay again, the doctor can’t do anything. I’m just a little tired. Right now I need to wash my horse and soap my saddle. Mom’ll be here about five. Don’t worry about me, okay? I hate having people worry and watch me.”

  DJ nodded. “I’d feel the same. Holler if you need help.”

  She accepted the other mothers’ thanks, reminded them of next week’s schedule, and headed for Bridget’s office.

  “I hear you are the hero of the day.” Bridget turned from the filing cabinet where she’d been inserting papers into their proper files.

  “How’d you know?”

  “A little bird. I am really proud of you; it sounds as though you handled yourself in a totally professional and competent manner.”

  “Bridget, I was so scared. More than I’ve been any time in my whole life.”

  “Heroes are not necessarily brave when the chips are down; they just keep on going, doing what needs to be done. You kept your head about you—”

  “I prayed hard.”

  “That helps too. The main thing is, you did not panic. I have always felt I could count on you, and now I know it.” Bridget sat on the edge of her desk.

  “You should have seen the giggle fit we had when it was over and Angie was starting to breath easy again.”

  “Natural reaction. To laugh, cry, get mad, giddy.”

  “I felt like crying. So did Amy.”

  “That would have been normal, like I said.”

  “But it might have scared the girls.”

  “Right. That is why I say you are a hero. You got the job done and thought of others first. You can always fall apart later, if need be.”

  DJ could feel her lower lip tremble. “I hate crying.” She swallowed hard and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. Blinking quickly, she fought back the tears.

  “There is nothing wrong with crying. Tears help wash both the eyes and the soul.”

  “I gotta check on the girls.” DJ bolted from the office.

  Mrs. Lincoln had tears in her eyes when she told DJ thank you. She wrapped her arms around DJ and hugged her as though she’d invented hugging. And hugging with a baby-big stomach between them wasn’t easy. DJ grinned.

  “Hey, what was that?” DJ pulled back and stared down at the mound under Mrs. Lincoln’s top.

  “The baby said thank you, too.” Mrs. Lincoln patted her tummy.

  DJ’s eyes traveled from the huge belly to the woman’s face. “Did you feel it?”

  “Of course. This one’s been kicking like he plans to join a World Cup soccer team tomorrow.”

  “I never knew it felt like that.”

  Mrs. Lincoln took DJ’s hand and laid it on her abdomen. The baby let loose with a one-two punch that bounced DJ’s hand.

  “Wow! Didja see that?”

  Angie and her mother burst out laughing. “We see it all the time. If this one’s as active after it’s born as it is now, we’ll be chasing him down the street in a couple of weeks.”

  DJ glanced up for permission and, at Mrs. Lincoln’s nod, put her hand back on the woman’s belly. When nothing happened, she looked up again.

  “Guess we wore him out.”

  “You know for sure it’s a boy?”

  “No, so it’s a good thing there are girls’ soccer teams, too. You ready to leave, Angie? We have tons of things to do.”

  DJ watched them drive away, waving in return when Angie rolled down the minivan’s window to wave good-bye. Babies had never seemed so real to her. And just breathing had never been something she thought to be grateful about. If only Gran were here. What stories DJ had to tell her!

  When she walked into the empty house after pedaling home, the light was blinking on the answering machine. She pushed the rewind button.

  After a squawk, the machine let loose with Gran’s voice.

  “Hi, darlin’s. We’ve been having such a wonderful time, Joe and I decided to stay a bit longer.”

  DJ felt her chin drop to the floor. “No, you can’t
do that!”

  CHAPTER • 6

  “Just teasing! We’ll be home Sunday night.”

  DJ sagged against the wall. “Not funny, Gran. Not funny at all.”

  The next message was from her mother. “If you get home before 4:30, call me. Otherwise we’ll plan on going out for dinner; you choose the place.”

  “I’ll believe that when I see it.” DJ checked the clock. It was already 4:45. She looked down at her clothes. If her mother caught her looking and smelling like horse and the woodsy ground she’d lain on, they’d never go out.

  She shucked her clothes by the washing machine and threw the shirt and jeans in, along with others in the hamper. Then while that started running, she charged upstairs to shower.

  Where should we go? Pizza? Nah. She thought of places and discarded them as fast while the water pounded on her head and shoulders. By the time she wrapped a towel around her stringy wet blond hair, she’d decided on Chinese. If they ordered enough, they could warm it up for dinner tomorrow night. Only two more days and Gran would be home.

  For a change, DJ and her mother spent an entire evening together without arguing. They each chose a dish at the restaurant and even tried a new one, Mongolian Beef, which they both loved. And when her mother suggested a movie and ice cream afterward, DJ nearly fainted.

  “You . . . you don’t have to study tonight?”

  “Nope. And I didn’t bring any work home, either. We should mark this on the calendar.” Lindy flipped the lock so DJ could get into the car. “ ’Course I can always find more to do. . . .”

  “Who can’t.” DJ thought of the mess she’d left in her bedroom. She’d made sure the door was closed so her mother couldn’t see in.

  Later, at the ice-cream parlor, Lindy licked hot-fudge sauce off her spoon and bobbed it at DJ. “You know, about that emergency with Angie. I’m not sure I could have given a shot like that.”

  “There was nothing else to do. It wasn’t much different from giving a horse an injection.” DJ twirled her spoon in the fudge sauce. “Making sure to give her the right amount would have been worse. This syringe was all loaded.”