Jade's Summer of Horses

by Amy Brown

  ‘Everything all right, Nell?’ Flora asked, having wound down the driver’s window of the truck.

  ‘Everything other than that you’re an hour later than you said you’d be, so I didn’t know whether to go ahead with the feeds by myself or wait for you.’

  ‘Hi, Nellie,’ Andy said in a small voice.

  Nellie sighed deeply. ‘Hello.’

  ‘We’ll do feeds after we’ve unloaded the animals. Bring Dumpling back to the home paddock, then you’re finished for the day. Go for a swim or a walk or something — looks like you need it.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Nellie said wryly, before turning on the heel of her riding boot and storming off to fetch Dumpling.

  ‘You’ll be friends by the end of tomorrow,’ Flora said, beaming at Jade. ‘Just try not to be too mousy: she smells fear, does Nell.’

  ‘She must smell fear all the time, then,’ Andy said, shivering slightly. ‘Only you and Casey don’t seem afraid of her, Flora.’

  ‘That’s because we’re very brave. Now, come on; let’s get these poor ponies out of the truck. Show Pip her new brothers and sisters, eh, Jade?’

  Compared with Nellie, Aunt Flora suddenly seemed quite approachable. Without any fuss, she lowered the hydraulic ramp of the truck and led Pip, while Jade took Tani and Andy took Piper into a long narrow paddock that was called the Run.

  As the three ponies had travelled together without mishap, Flora decided that they’d make friendly paddock mates. Free of their halters, and allowed to stretch their legs for the first time in two-and-a-half hours, Piper and Tani broke into a canter, leaving poor Pip trotting stiffly behind. All three wanted to meet the five inquisitive heads that were hanging over the Run’s back fence.

  ‘No need for a diet paddock here, as you see,’ Flora said. ‘We don’t have Jim White’s lush grass. If I didn’t give them rations each evening, it’d be slim pickings for the poor horses. We should do that now, really. The youngsters down the back there aren’t just welcoming the newcomers, they’re asking Mum where dinner is.’

  Looking again, Jade saw that the five Samudra horses — who were now squealing and stamping at the new visitors — still had the leggy, slight, fluffy look of foals.

  ‘How old are they?’ Jade asked Flora and Andy, as she followed them to the feed shed.

  ‘All terrible twos,’ Flora sighed. ‘They’ll be endurance stars one day, but right now their greatest talent is sucking on your clothing. Your Pip is going to be mother hen to them, Jade. Calm them down a bit when we’re out riding.’

  ‘She’ll be good at that.’ Gazing down at the horses again, Jade noticed for the first time the bright stripe of golden sand beyond the two-year-olds’ paddock, and deep, greeny-blue past that.

  ‘The sea’s really close,’ Jade laughed.

  ‘Yep, smell it.’ Andy inhaled and closed her eyes. ‘Salt air makes me so happy.’

  ‘There will be plenty of time for that. Right now I need you to pass me buckets, Jade, and you to mix the feed up, Andy. This isn’t a holiday, remember? You’re my slaves from now on.’

  Once the girls had helped make the feeds, Flora gave them careful instructions about how to distribute the twenty-three buckets.

  ‘For now, just follow me and watch,’ Flora said, judging from the girls’ blank faces that they would never remember to take the orange, green and yellow buckets to the third gate on the left side of the track behind the feed shed.

  ‘The riding-school ponies — Dumpling, Pikelet, Marama and Secrets — are easy. They all have the same kind of tiny, bland feed because, as you see, their figures are all along the lines of a 40-gallon drum. They’re grumpy little rascals, though: so remember, in and out as quick as you can, and make sure the buckets aren’t too close together.’

  When Jade and Andy had arranged the buckets at a safe distance from one another and squeezed back between the wires of the fence, they found Flora in the adjacent paddock, presenting a stunning, flaxen-maned chestnut with a bright blue bucket.

  ‘That’s Sam,’ Andy said reverently. ‘We won’t be allowed to go in there, probably.’

  ‘When he’s in a docile mood I’ll let you lead him, Jade,’ Flora said, admiring her horse one more time. It was obvious that he was a favourite; his fine summer coat looked recently groomed, glistening like burnished copper over his lean, muscular frame. Looking up at his audience, despite having the distraction of food in front of him, Sam let Jade see his perfect, dished face and steady eye. It was as if he knew they were talking about him.

  ‘Handsome, intelligent Samudra — Sam for short. He’s our star: daddy of three of the youngsters you saw earlier.’

  ‘A stallion!’ Jade hadn’t even noticed.

  ‘Best Arabian stallion in the North Island.’

  ‘Wow!’

  ‘And he can count,’ Andy said. ‘Come here, Sam — show Jade the trick with your hoof.’

  ‘For goodness sake, let him eat his dinner, Andrea. He can perform for our guest tomorrow.’

  ‘Can he really count?’ Jade asked, wondering if she was being terribly gullible.

  ‘I firmly believe that he understands every word I say,’ Flora said without the flicker of a smile. ‘He probably picked up some French from those backpackers, too. Smartest horse I’ve ever known. My pride and joy.’

  Reluctantly leaving the stallion to eat, the girls followed Flora down the track towards the beach until they reached a gate that had another six hungry heads leaning over it.

  ‘These are my mares,’ Flora said proudly. ‘Some are for breeding, others for competition. The broodmares, all greys — flea-bitten Karaoke, dappled Zsa Zsa, and almost-white Lolita — get a different feed from the other three. Do not mix up their buckets. I repeat: white buckets to the brood mares, red and orange buckets to the other three.’

  The other three, all fit-looking chestnuts, two bright and the other liver, of about 15 hands, appealed to Jade more than the bossy, swollen-looking mothers.

  ‘What are their names?’ Jade asked.

  ‘These two are Imperial and Oriental, but I call them Poppet and Precious. And this handsome girl is Datura — she used to be impossible as a youngster, which is why I named her after a poison, but now she’s sweet as pie. They’re all a little spoilt, though, I’m afraid. These girls can get a bit pushy at meal times, so be very careful.’

  With much stamping and squealing, the six mares did indeed rush for their buckets, not taking kindly to the slowness of the new girls. But the job was done without injury to human or horse.

  ‘Now we just have the boys, the babies and the newbies — your lot,’ Flora instructed. Fortunately, ‘the boys’ — Flora’s geldings used for both trekking and endurance races — were in the paddock closest to the feed shed and their heavy buckets of rations didn’t have to be hauled far.

  ‘Meet Blackadder, Jeeves and Basil,’ Flora announced, pointing at a small black gelding, a larger bay and a rather skinny Appaloosa. Seeing Jade’s worried face, Flora apologized for overwhelming her with new names.

  ‘It’s easier in winter, when they wear covers with their names painted on the side. Don’t worry if you don’t remember everyone straight away; it generally takes about a week to learn the ropes here.’

  Jade nodded. ‘Do the babies have names?’

  ‘Of course.’ Flora looked slightly offended at the idea that they wouldn’t. ‘I’ll introduce you soon, but first, feeds to the weary travellers. Jade, if you don’t mind, I’ll give Pip her little bucket of chaff; she needs to start thinking of me as her mother.’

  ‘Go to Flora,’ Jade told Pip, who had automatically approached Jade when the three entered the paddock. It was hard pushing away her old pony, but Taniwha provided a useful distraction, needing to be extricated from Piper’s feed bucket. ‘Over here, Greedy Guts,’ Jade called. ‘This one’s yours.’

  Knowing that they were the last — always the last — to be fed, the babies were niggling at each other and whinnying frantically by the time
Flora, Jade and Andy provided the rations.

  ‘Do you remember their names?’ Flora asked Andy, who had met the two-year-olds the previous summer, when they were looking far more like foals.

  ‘I remember Mahler,’ Andy said, reaching out to a pretty gun-metal grey filly. ‘And … is that Bam-Bam?’

  ‘Yep, that’s my Bam-Bam — short for Beethoven,’ Flora explained to Jade. ‘I was feeling musical with this season of foals.’

  ‘So, is this one Mozart?’ Jade hazarded a guess, pointing at a scruffy bay.

  ‘No, that’s Choppy — Chopin. This one’s Mozart, or Artie.’ Flora touched the nose of an appealing black colt. Her sleeve instantly disappeared into his mouth. ‘And last but not least, dear wee Viv — Vivaldi, the other filly.’

  Considering that their sweet-smelling buckets of feed were sitting just on the other side of the fence, out of reach as the humans talked, the babies behaved quite well, far less pushy than their older sisters and mothers had been.

  ‘And here’s one more name for you to learn,’ Flora said, waving at a figure approaching from the beach end of the youngsters’ paddock.

  ‘Casey!’ Andy shouted.

  ‘Hello, Blossom.’

  Andy flinched; it was a nickname that embarrassed her. ‘Casey’s our next-door neighbour, sort of,’ Andy explained. ‘He doesn’t have a house, though; he lives in an old railway container.’

  Jade’s eyes widened. She tried not to stare as the old man, who greeted each of the two-year-olds as if they were people, approached the fence line.

  He wasn’t much taller than Jade, and very thin, with a face so tanned, gaunt and worn that it looked as if it’d been carved from rimu by someone who didn’t really know what they were doing.

  ‘How are you today, Case? Catch anything?’

  Although his eyes twinkled, his voice rasped irritably. ‘Awful. Worse than bl — ... worse than usual. Got to mind my French, I guess. Is this a new one?’ He gestured at Jade.

  ‘I’m Jade,’ Jade said shyly.

  ‘Casey. Unlucky Casey. Have you ever seen a penguin, Jade?’

  ‘Only at the zoo.’

  ‘Want to see another one?’

  ‘Casey, what’s in your basket?’ Flora asked suddenly. ‘Casey, what have you done?’

  ‘I didn’t do anything! I tried to save it. Sir William must’ve got it. Didn’t last long. I did try to feed it.’

  Andy and Jade grimaced at each other.

  ‘Sir William is his cat,’ Andy whispered.

  ‘Do you want to look or not?’

  ‘Casey, why did you bring it to me?’

  ‘I didn’t have any fish for you today, Flora.’

  ‘So you bring me a dead little blue penguin instead? Oh, Casey.’ Flora looked sad rather than angry.

  ‘Sorry, Flo.’

  ‘Can we have a funeral for it?’ Andy asked. ‘I always used to do that for any dead birds that I found.’

  ‘You could cook it …’ Casey said uncertainly.

  ‘No!’ Flora snapped. ‘No funerals, no cooking. But yes, you must bury it, Case.’

  ‘Can I borrow a shovel?’

  ‘You know where it is.’

  Jade got the impression that Casey had come to Aunt Flora with similar problems in the past.

  At the unceremonious burial, Nellie sympathized with Casey. ‘It’s just what cats do, isn’t it? It’s not as if you killed it yourself — like the Ancient Mariner and the albatross.’

  ‘We read that at school!’ Jade interrupted. ‘I quite liked it.’

  ‘Casey thinks he’s the Ancient Mariner,’ Nellie replied. ‘Always going on about it, aren’t you?’

  ‘Don’t exaggerate. But I’m glad you understand, Eleanor, that Sir William and I can’t be held responsible. It is simply the food chain.’

  With the horses fed, the empty buckets collected and the little blue penguin buried, Flora asked Nellie if she would mind showing the girls to the sleep-out then taking them with her for a quick swim.

  ‘I’d come too, but the chooks need feeding, and I haven’t even decided what to cook for dinner yet.’

  Andy knew straight away where to throw her sleeping bag and backpack. The sleep-out was a small room, with peeling white walls on which were stuck pages from an Arabian horse calendar. They’d been there so long that the paper was beginning to buckle and fade at the edges.

  In the far corner of the room were the bunk beds. The bottom one was instantly claimed by Andy, leaving the top for Jade. Next to the bunks was a saggy unmade double bed, which Nellie obviously slept in. Jade tried not to stare at the lacy black underwear spilling out of a suitcase next to Nellie’s bed.

  Opposite the bunks was a curtain, behind which was the most basic of bathrooms.

  ‘Beds, basin, shower, toilet. Make yourself at home.’ Nellie’s grand tour was brief. ‘Ready for a swim?’

  It had been a hot day and, for Jade, who was still sticky and stale from the trip in the truck, the sea was a dream come true. Changing quickly into her togs, wrapping a large purple beach towel around herself and slipping on jandals, Jade followed the others towards the beach track.

  ‘Stop. You both sunblocked?’ Nellie asked sternly. Jade and Andy looked at each other. ‘Back you go. Flora will kill me if you get sunburnt on your first day here. There’s a big pump of Cancer Society stuff by the door. Use it whenever you leave the sleep-out.’

  Shiny with sunblock, the younger girls trotted after Nellie. It wasn’t only the girls whom Nellie mothered; she also fussed over the young horses which, having finished their feeds, wanted attention. The unusual activity of Casey digging a shallow grave for a penguin in the far corner of their paddock had been entertaining while it lasted, but now they were bored again. Entertain us, they seemed to whine, jogging along the fence line, nosing at the girls’ bare shoulders and trying to grab the towels between their teeth.

  ‘They’re in this back paddock because they get a good view of the beach. All young horses are nosey, so being able to see kids building their sandcastles and swimming keeps them busy.’

  ‘Is that Casey’s house?’ Jade asked, pointing at a rusted railway container that sat between the fence line of the two-year-olds’ paddock and the beginning of the sand. Tussock grass, succulents and pink and dark-purple geraniums grew around the container. They looked both healthy and neglected. The back side of the container, facing the paddock, was open, an old plaid curtain providing a degree of privacy. Jade noticed a steel door that could be locked with a chain if need be. She imagined being closed inside; no windows, complete blackness.

  ‘I wouldn’t call it a house,’ Nellie replied. ‘But it is Casey’s. Maybe a hovel?’

  ‘Yeah, a hovel,’ Andy agreed. ‘It’s not as bad as it looks from the outside, Jade.’

  ‘I can hear you, y’know.’

  They hadn’t realized Casey was home. The girls grimaced at each other.

  ‘Bloody rude kids. Go and have your swim. Leave me in peace.’

  ‘Don’t sulk, Casey,’ Nellie called out, reminding Jade of her dad’s favourite saying, about the pot calling the kettle black. ‘Come for a swim, too. The sea looks perfect.’

  Nellie was right. It seemed strange to Jade that such a beautiful beach could be empty on a sunny late afternoon. Only a mother with two small children and a dog were in view. They had a bucket and were digging in the sand for pipis. Beyond them, the sea lazily lapped at the dark, smooth sand. Jade would run straight in. There would be no dithering. She would run until the gentle green waves were up to her chest, then she’d float on her back.

  ‘I’m reading. Bugger off and enjoy the water.’

  ‘Okay. Flora said to say dinner’s at seven.’

  There was no reply. Unable to wait any longer, Nellie dropped her towel, kicked off her jandals and ran, as Jade had planned to, straight into the sea. She suddenly seemed much younger.

  ‘Race you,’ Jade said to Andy, before sprinting in Nellie’s footsteps.

/>   When she reached the water, Jade turned and kicked, sending up a glittering splash that landed satisfyingly on Andy’s dry stomach. She shrieked with happy indignation.

  ‘When you least expect it, Jade Lennox, I will get my revenge!’

  It wasn’t really so unexpected, a few seconds later, when Jade felt a slimy hand of seaweed hit the back of her neck. She squealed anyway, diving under the first proper wave to wash off the weed and sand.

  ‘Where’s Nellie?’ Jade asked, surfacing and seeing only Andy’s head and shoulders bobbing next to her.

  ‘Agh!’ Andy screamed again, disappearing under the water. She and Nellie both emerged with tangled hair over their faces, laughing and coughing up salty water.

  ‘You’re both taniwhas,’ Jade said, giggling. It felt so good to rinse off the day’s sweat, dust and horse hair. It felt even better knowing that they would all be doing the same thing the next evening, and the next — and every evening all summer!

  Finally floating on her back, listening to sea gulls niggling at each other like horses and wondering if the savoury frying smell was coming from Aunt Flora’s kitchen, Jade decided that Samudra Riding School might possibly be her idea of heaven.

  The fried smell was indeed coming from Flora’s basic, but well-used, kitchen.

  ‘We’re having courgettes stuffed with feta and bacon, accompanied by a rocket and cucumber salad, followed by a strawberry parfait for dessert.’

  Jade looked at Andy. She wasn’t sure if Flora was kidding.

  ‘Flora loves cooking almost as much as she loves her horses,’ Andy explained. ‘And the veges are always from her garden.’

  ‘It’s Casey’s garden, really,’ Flora admitted. ‘On my property, but he does all the work. Speaking of which, did you tell him dinner will be at seven, Nell?’

  ‘I can see him on his way now.’

  ‘Good. I’ll plate everything up.’

  ‘Can I help?’ Jade asked shyly.

  ‘You can sit at the table and keep out of my way, please. Andy, you can set the table.’

  Casey ate very slowly, and he used his knife and fork in a fashion that seemed unorthodox to Jade. Instead of eating off his fork, he tended to pile as much food onto the back of his knife as would balance. Then, instead of moving the implement up to his mouth, he’d lean down to his plate. He wasn’t a messy eater, just unusual.