Riding Class

by Bonnie Bryant

  “That’s it, keep going, sit up!” she called as Toby bounced his way down the long side of the arena, the volunteers running alongside. “Fantastic, Toby!”

  Stevie raised an eyebrow at Carole. Toby was grinning from ear to ear, but Stevie didn’t think there was much about that trot that was fantastic. Carole raised her eyebrow back in seeming agreement.

  “Your turn, Joshua!” Joshua seemed to be waiting for the command, because he quickly cued his horse to trot. He sat up straight, the reins looping from his hands. Stevie nodded. Joshua’s trot was better. But still, his reins were too loose, his heels weren’t really down … Stevie knew that if she’d ever looked like this, even when she was just starting out, Max would’ve told her to correct about eight hundred different things. “Good job! Try to keep your heels down next time,” was all Pat said. Stevie wondered if this was really riding.

  “Claire, how brave do you feel today?” Pat asked the little girl.

  Claire looked toward Pat’s voice. “Pretty brave,” she said cautiously.

  “Brave enough to trot?”

  Claire’s eyes widened. “Maybe,” she whispered.

  “What do you think, Claire? Is today the day?” Pat asked.

  “Stevie!” Claire yelled.

  Stevie jumped, startled. “I’m right here,” she told Claire.

  “Can you stand by my horse, too?” Claire asked in a quieter voice.

  “Sure.” Stevie moved closer to Claire’s horse.

  “Okay,” Pat said, “you’ve got four people around your horse. You’re not going to fall off. Are you going to go for it? Ba-da-da-dum-ta-dum!” Pat made a trumpet sound. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Claire’s first trot.”

  “Okay.” Claire took a deep breath and urged her horse into a trot. She held on to the pommel of the saddle and bounced. Stevie remembered how awkward riding at a trot felt before she learned to sit to it properly.

  “Just relax,” Stevie told Claire. “You’re doing great.”

  When Claire stopped her horse at the end of the arena, her whole face was lit with a triumphant joy. She leaned forward to hug her horse. “I did it!” she cried.

  “Yeah, Claire!” Pat and all the volunteers cheered. “Fantastic!” This time Stevie agreed.

  She and Lisa and Carole stood in the middle of the arena while the riders dismounted and led their horses to the stable. “That was really neat,” Lisa said. “I was … I don’t know, I was beginning to think that this wasn’t like riding, but seeing Claire trot for the first time made me think that it was.”

  “Exactly,” Stevie said. “At first I was judging these kids by what we could do. But that’s not fair.”

  “It takes a lot of guts to trot on a horse you can’t even see,” Carole said. “Particularly if you don’t know what a trot is like. Think about it, guys. Claire can’t see anyone else trot, either, so she really didn’t know what she was getting into. And the games they played did make sense. Don’t you remember when we used to do things like that?”

  “Remember?” Lisa laughed. “I still try to touch my toes sometimes. Max showed me how great it is for balance.”

  As they walked out of the arena, a man standing by the gate said, “Thanks for helping, girls.”

  “You’re welcome,” Carole replied. “Do you know one of the riders?” She hadn’t seen this man volunteering.

  “Toby’s my son,” the man replied.

  “I helped him get ready,” Lisa said. “He counted all the parts of the horse.”

  The man smiled. “That’s because Toby is working on counting in school right now,” he said. “He has trouble with numbers. We told the instructors here, so they work counting into his riding to help reinforce his schoolwork. He’s more interested in counting horse parts than anything else. Toby’s a pretty big horse fan these days.”

  “That’s neat,” Lisa said.

  “Riding helped him learn the days of the week, too,” Toby’s father said. “He knows he rides on Mondays, so every day he would ask, ‘Is today Monday?” until he got all the days figured out.’

  “How long has he been riding?” Stevie asked.

  “Three years.”

  The Saddle Club looked at him in dismay. Even Lisa, who had learned to ride last of all of them, had been able to trot and canter after only a few lessons. Toby hadn’t learned much in three years.

  “I can see what you’re thinking,” Toby’s father said gently. “Girls, you may not realize what learning is like for someone like Toby. He takes very small steps. He’s made enormous progress here.

  “When he first started coming, he was afraid of the horses. He liked the way they looked, but he didn’t want to touch them. Now he grooms them, plays with them—he even holds the reins himself when he rides. A lot of this self-confidence shows up at home and at school, too.

  “The best part,” Toby’s father continued, “is that the horse never judges him. The horse never thinks he’s too slow, and the horse never makes fun of him. He can succeed here on his own terms. For Toby, riding is a secure joy.

  “Anyway,” he concluded, “I’ve never seen you here before, so I wanted to be sure to thank you for helping. It means a lot to Toby and me.”

  “You’re welcome,” Carole said again. She was immeasurably touched by all that Toby’s father had said. “I didn’t think that we were helping very much, but maybe we were.”

  “You certainly were.”

  “Whew!” Stevie said, as they walked into the barn. “I guess it was a pretty good lesson!”

  THE SADDLE CLUB helped the riders untack and put their horses away. Emily was still there and, in fact, was almost tacked up to ride. P.C. had a saddle on.

  “Do you have a lesson?” Stevie asked.

  “No, I’m just riding,” Emily said. “I’ve got a half hour before the next lesson starts in the ring.”

  “Can we watch?” Lisa asked. “My mom isn’t picking us up for another twenty minutes. We’d love to see P.C. in action.”

  Emily grinned. “He’s a Pretty Cool horse. Watch this.” She tossed the reins in the air so that they came down over P.C.’s neck, then unclipped the cross-ties. When P.C. held his head at normal height, his chin came just about to Emily’s shoulder. Emily pulled a crop—a short, mild type of whip—off the grooming shelf and gently stroked P.C.’s cheek with it. P.C. dropped his head to his knees. Emily, leaning against his neck, began to bridle him with both hands.

  “When I’m standing up, I can’t lift both my hands in the air and still keep my balance,” Emily explained. “I used to have to ask someone to help me bridle my horse, but when I got P.C., I taught him this.” P.C. held his head down until Emily rubbed his cheek again.

  “That is pretty cool,” Stevie said. “I’ve seen horses that were taught to shake hands and do other tricks, but this is the first trick I’ve seen that was actually useful.”

  Emily led P.C. into the arena. “Maybe one of you could help me,” she suggested. “Usually I ask Pat to do it.”

  “Sure,” said Lisa. “What should we do?”

  “Just hold P.C. by the mounting ramp for me. He’s good about standing still, but it takes me a long time to mount and I worry about something spooking him. I could fall between him and the ramp, and I don’t want that to happen.”

  “Okay.” Lisa held P.C. while Emily made her slow way up the ramp. At Pine Hollow there was a standard mounting block outside the main ring. It was a wooden cube about three feet high, with steps on one side. A rider with a horse that was too tall to mount from the ground led the horse to the block, climbed the steps, and got on from there.

  Free Rein had a mounting ramp instead of a block. The top of it was the same height as Pine Hollow’s block, and there were steps, with a handrail, on one side, but on the other side a long, shallow ramp led to the top.

  “I don’t do steps,” Emily said when she was about halfway up. “I can’t lift my feet very high.”

  Finally Emily made it to the top. She took of
f her leg braces, hooked them and her crutches over the ramp’s top rail, and gathered P.C.’s reins in her hands. She grabbed the saddle with both hands, slid her left foot into the stirrup, then leaned forward and carefully slid her right leg over P.C.’s back. She found her right stirrup and sat up.

  “Thanks,” she said. Lisa moved away.

  Right from the start, they could see the difference between Emily in the saddle and Emily on the ground. She sat tall and proud, her heels down and her head high. She held the reins with authority. Moving P.C. to the rail of the indoor arena, she asked him to trot, then grabbed his mane and picked up her two-point position, her seat slightly out of the saddle.

  “I always do this, to give him a chance to warm up his back,” she explained. Carole nodded. She always did the same thing.

  Emily trotted P.C. in circles and figure eights, then cantered twice around the ring, still in her jumping position. She brought P.C. back to a trot and began to post. Carefully, steadily, she smoothed his trot into a quieter rhythm. Emily’s face was a study of concentration and happiness.

  Carole looked at Lisa, who looked at Stevie. Stevie nodded and grinned. “Hey, Emily,” she said. “Would you like to come on a trail ride?”

  EMILY BROUGHT P.C. to a square halt in the center of the indoor arena. “Do you mean it?” she asked. Her eyes shone and her cheeks turned pink.

  “Of course we mean it,” Stevie replied. “There are tons of trails around Pine Hollow. We were talking yesterday about how we wished you’d come out there with us.”

  “I’d love to,” Emily said. “I’ve never been on a trail even once. I’ve never been out of a ring. I’d really love to.”

  “You’d probably want to bring P.C.,” Carole suggested. “We’ve got a lot of nice horses at Pine Hollow, but still—”

  “Oh, I’ll have to take him,” Emily agreed. “Before I got P.C., I used to ride all the different horses here, but now I’d definitely rather ride him than anyone else. Besides, I can’t not let him go on a trail ride! He’ll enjoy it as much as I will.” Emily thought for a moment. “Free Rein has a horse van, and my mom knows how to drive it—she trailered P.C. here when we bought him. I’m sure we can borrow the trailer, and I’ll get my mom to bring us.”

  “We’ll have to ask Max,” Lisa said. “He’s our director, and he always wants to know before we bring someone new over to ride. But he won’t mind. He’s really nice.” Lisa dug a scrap of paper out of her pocket and Carole dug around in her own pocket and handed Lisa a pen. “I’ll write down your phone number and give you all of ours,” Lisa said. “We’ve got a lesson tomorrow. We’ll ask Max then and call you.”

  “Super.”

  They heard a car pull up outside. Stevie peeked out the window. “That’s your mom, Lisa,” she announced. Lisa hurriedly finished writing the phone numbers and handed them to Emily.

  “We’ll see you soon,” she said.

  “I hope so,” Emily said. “It sounds great.” She gave P.C. a little tap with her crop and began trotting as The Saddle Club left.

  AFTER THEIR LESSON the next day, The Saddle Club cooled out, groomed, and fed their horses, just as they always did. Then they cleaned their horses’ stalls. Then they each cleaned their own tack—which was usual—and one other horse’s tack besides—which was not as usual. Then Stevie raked the aisle, Carole checked and filled all the water buckets, and Lisa straightened the locker room and swept the floor.

  Everyone did chores at Pine Hollow, but eventually Max couldn’t help but notice their extra efforts. “Ladies, I’m really impressed,” he said, coming into the locker room where the three of them were cleaning out their cubbies. “I haven’t seen you work this hard since—when? The time you painted Diablo red?”

  “Oh, Max,” Carole groaned. She hated the memory of that day. The Saddle Club had been trying to paint the front of the stable, but most of the paint had ended up on one of the horses. “That was a long time ago.”

  “Or maybe the time you wanted tickets to the American Horse Show?”

  “You gave us those tickets,” Lisa said severely. “We didn’t ask for them. We always work hard, you know that.”

  “I do know that,” he agreed, his eyes twinkling. “I’m very appreciative, believe me. Yet I can’t help but think that I might somehow be able to repay you for all the work you’re doing today.”

  “As a matter of fact,” Stevie said, “there is one small thing—”

  “Only a small thing,” Lisa said. “Very small.”

  “You’ve let us do it before.” Carole added.

  Max sat down on a bench and crossed his arms. “If all that’s true,” he asked, “why all the extra work? Why are you trying to butter me up?”

  “It’s really important to us,” Stevie answered.

  “Okay,” said Max. “Fire away.”

  “We want to ask a friend of ours to come here for a trail ride,” Lisa explained.

  Max laughed. “Let me guess,” he said. “This friend is a boy, right, Lisa? A cute boy, but he doesn’t ride very well—”

  “No!” Lisa felt herself blush. So far, the boys she’d admired had all ridden very well, but that was beside the point.

  “Emily rides at Free Rein,” Carole said. “She has cerebral palsy.”

  Max’s grin faded into an expression of sympathy and understanding. “Oh, girls,” he said at last. “Oh, I just don’t know. I’d like to say yes, but I don’t want anybody to get hurt.”

  “Max,” Stevie said, in an uncharacteristically firm and sensible tone, “you know we wouldn’t have asked you if we didn’t think Emily could do it. Please.”

  Max looked at them all for a long minute. “Okay,” he said. “Come to my office. Let me see what Debbie Payne thinks about this.”

  Apparently Ms. Payne thought The Saddle Club’s idea was okay, because when Max hung up, he looked less worried. “Do you know Emily’s phone number?” he asked them. “I’d like to speak with her mother, too.”

  Lisa handed it to him. “Use the speaker phone,” she suggested. “Please.”

  Max smiled at her and pushed the speaker button on the telephone. They could all hear the phone ringing at Emily’s house.

  Finally someone answered. “Hello?”

  “Emily?” Stevie asked. “Emily, hi, it’s Stevie. And Carole and Lisa. We’re at Pine Hollow, and Max wants to talk to your mom.”

  “Hi, Stevie! Just a second.” Emily put the phone down.

  “Hello?”

  “Mrs. Williams?” Max introduced himself as the director of Pine Hollow.

  “Oh, yes.” Emily’s mother laughed. “I’m glad you’ve called,” she said, “because Emily hasn’t talked about anything but this trail ride since she came home last night.”

  “I just spoke with Debbie Payne,” Max said. “She feels that Emily rides well enough and isn’t likely to be frightened by being out of the ring, and she says Emily’s horse is as steady as they come.”

  “I’m not worried about Emily,” Mrs. Williams replied. “Well, yes, I am, it’s a big step for her, but we’ve always encouraged her to be independent and try new things. She’s very eager to do this. But tell me about these new friends of hers. Are they responsible? Can we trust them not to take silly chances? I know how girls this age can be.” Mrs. Williams was apparently not aware that The Saddle Club could hear every word she said.

  Max winked at The Saddle Club. “These three are the most responsible young women I know,” he said proudly. “I’d trust them in any situation.”

  Stevie felt her face grow hot. She could personally think of several situations that Max couldn’t trust her in. She was sure Max knew about at least some of those situations. On the other hand, she knew and Max knew that she never did anything stupid on horseback. Max was right. There was no fear that Stevie would hatch one of her schemes while riding with Emily.

  Max and Mrs. Williams talked for a few more minutes, and then Emily came back on the phone. They arranged to meet at Pine
Hollow at nine-thirty Saturday morning.

  “That’ll give us plenty of time to groom, tack up, and have a nice long ride before lunch,” Carole said. “We’ve got a Horse Wise meeting at one o’clock.”

  “Horse Wise? Is that your Pony Club?”

  Carole remembered that Emily had said Pony Club sounded like fun. “That’s right, it is,” she said. “We’re just having an unmounted meeting this week. I think Meg and Jasmine are giving a presentation on polo wraps. It’s not going to be a big deal, but maybe you could stay for it. We always have a picnic lunch here on Saturdays. Would you like to?”

  “Really?”

  “Of course really,” Stevie cut in. “Four is a much better number for lunch than three. The sandwiches divide more easily.”

  “I’ll bring dessert,” Emily said. “Does your mare like bananas?”

  “As a matter of fact, no,” said Stevie. “I tried them on her once, and she didn’t like them at all.”

  “P.C. doesn’t like them either,” Emily said. “So I’ll bring something, but not bananas.”

  They hung up the phone and Max began to laugh. “I can’t wait to meet her,” he told Stevie. “She’s the first person I’ve ever talked to that reminded me of you!”

  THE SADDLE CLUB walked into Pine Hollow Stables and stopped dead, staring. It was Saturday morning. There in front of them was Dr. Dinmore, the old woman they’d helped put on Patch last weekend, and she was grooming Calypso!

  Calypso was a beautiful Thoroughbred mare that Max had bought especially for breeding. Like most Thoroughbreds, she was high-strung and skittish, and she was rarely used for lessons. “Oh, Dr. Dinmore!” Carole said, advancing with an air of command. “You really shouldn’t have taken that horse out of her stall!

  “She can be a little frisky,” Carole explained. She gently took Dr. Dinmore’s arm and guided her out of harm’s way. Lisa and Stevie returned Calypso to her stall.

  Dr. Dinmore watched them with mild amusement. “Mrs. Reg told me that I was going to ride Calypso,” she protested.