Sea Horse

by Bonnie Bryant

  Mrs. Atwood nodded. “Well, of course, any place that Mrs. diAngelo lets her daughter ride is going to be the very best. I’m sure they have nothing but well-behaved horses and everything is done for your safety. We just can’t trust the horses and instruction at a stable we don’t know. That’s it. There will be no more riding for you while we’re here, and when we get home, we’ll think about whether you can ride at Pine Hollow.”

  A week earlier, those words would have made Lisa very angry and hurt and she would have argued strongly with her mother. But now she didn’t say anything. After all, she was a good rider, so the fact that she’d fallen twice on San Marco had to be somebody else’s fault. Maybe it was Velvet’s jerkiness; maybe it was Jasper’s lumbering gait. Or maybe, she thought dispiritedly, I’m really just not as good as I thought. Maybe Mom’s right. Maybe I shouldn’t ride anymore at San Marco and then when I get home, well, I’ll think about that then.

  “Don’t you think so, Richard?” Mrs. Atwood asked.

  Lisa’s father was contemplating the seafood special in front of him. “I don’t know, Eleanor. I don’t think forbidding Lisa to ride is a good idea. Lisa, I don’t want you to get hurt, but aren’t you supposed to climb back on a horse when you fall off?”

  “I did, Daddy. I finished the ride. But maybe”—Lisa hesitated—“maybe Mom’s right.”

  “Maybe,” he said, and then ate a shrimp.

  THE GLOOMY GRAY skies hung over the shopping mall, dimming the last vestige of winter sun. As far as Stevie was concerned, the weather almost perfectly matched her mood. This was the end of her second day of shopping at the mall, and it had been no better than the first. She was practically talking to herself as she stood by the bus stop, waiting for the bus that would take her to the shopping center in town, from which she could walk home. It felt as if it would take forever until she could be in her own room, away from rude salespeople and masses of shoppers rushing everywhere.

  By her own count, she’d been into every store in the mall that sold clothes for females, including a shop for senior citizens and three jeans specialty shops. That just showed her level of desperation. She’d actually tried on a “golden-age special” at the senior citizens’ shop, but even the saleswoman had to agree that it was “a little mature for you.” The only thing the dress had going for it, in fact, was that it was blue.

  The good news was that Stevie had found three dresses she could consider wearing to the New Year’s Eve dance. That is, she could consider them, but she wasn’t so sure that her mother would.

  One dress was just beautiful. It was a glittery blue floor-length number. Its major drawback was the price. Stevie wasn’t sure exactly how expensive it was. She’d noticed that the price tag had four digits to the left of the decimal, though, and she suspected her mother would think that was a bit too much to spend—for a car, to say nothing of a dress!

  The next possibility was pretty, too. And the price was more reasonable, though still in the outrageous area. The problem was that once her mother saw it, she’d probably say just what the saleslady had said about the golden-age dress. It was a little mature for her, to put it mildly. This one was strapless, with a straight floor-length skirt slit halfway up her thigh. Of course, it was hard to get the full effect while she was wearing loafers and ankle socks, but she’d seen enough to know that her mother would let her wear a dress like that the day she turned, oh, say, twenty-five. If ever.

  The final possibility was something Stevie could actually afford with a six-month advance on her allowance. It was a fancy dress and it was blue. The trouble was, it didn’t fit properly and she wasn’t sure she liked it. It had a babyish frilly neckline and puffed sleeves. It was made of layers of lacy fabric, all in different shades of blue and baby blue. The lace went around the puffed sleeves, too. Stevie was afraid it was all a bit too much, and she wasn’t sure the style flattered her.

  The bus pulled up to the stop and Stevie climbed on. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised to find that she didn’t have the right change and that nobody on the crowded bus could make change for her. She stepped back down again, knowing that she’d have to buy something to get the change, that she’d have to wait for the next bus, and that it would be even more crowded than this one. Stevie shook her head. It seemed like an appropriately rotten end to a rotten day.

  “HOW’S IT GOING with Starlight?” Judy Barker asked Carole. The two of them were in Judy’s truck, driving to a stable where, the owner had said, a horse was having a problem with his hoof. Judy was a veterinarian, and spending time with her meant learning that a lot of horses had hoof problems.

  “It’s okay,” Carole said. “But it’s such hard work. I mean, when it comes to learning something, Starlight is just like a little kid. It seems like we go over the same thing again and again and for a while, he’ll get it, and then it’s gone again.”

  “That’s the way it is with horses, but it pays off in the long run. Once they’ve got something down, they’ve got it for good. Oh, occasionally they need reminders, but the earlier they learn, the better.”

  “And the younger I am, the better too. My legs are so sore today from mounting and dismounting about five hundred times, I feel like I’m ninety years old.”

  “And that’s a lot younger than you’d feel if he took off on his own while you were in the middle of mounting him sometime!” Judy joked.

  Carole didn’t laugh. She knew it was true. In the long run, all the work she was doing with Starlight was going to pay off. It was just that it was hard work and a little tedious, and at times seemed to be useless. What made it the hardest, though, was that it was lonely work. Lisa was off on her tropical island and Stevie was in her New Year’s Eve dream world. It seemed that only Carole was left in the real world of horses, and she wasn’t having much fun being there alone.

  “Here we are.” Judy swung her pickup into the drive-way of the stable and was alighting from the cab before the engine had stopped turning. Carole tried hopping out the same way, but her thighs hurt too much. She muffled a groan and followed Judy into the stable.

  The owner was nowhere in sight. Judy asked Carole to look for him. His name was Mulroney. Carole approached the house, on the other side of the stable’s paddock, and found that Mr. Mulroney wasn’t home. He’d left a note on his door for Judy, informing her that he’d had to go to town and would be back at four o’clock. If he missed her, she should check the right front hoof of the bay.

  Armed with this information, Carole returned to the Stable and told Judy. Judy put her hands on her hips and looked at the four horses in the stable. Three of the four were bays! Judy started laughing. Carole could only muster a wan smile. It seemed to her that what Mr. Mulroney was doing was selfish and thoughtless. She just couldn’t bring herself to laugh about it.

  “Okay, let’s check them one by one,” Judy said. “Try the stallion first. He’s had hoof problems before and is probably the best candidate for trouble.”

  Carole approached the stall and knew right away that she didn’t want to open the door. The stallion, whatever else might have been wrong with him, was in a foul mood. He was backed into the corner of his stall, his ears were flat on his head, and his eyes opened so wide, she could see white all around.

  “Let’s try the others first,” Carole suggested.

  Judy took one look and agreed.

  The mare and the gelding were just fine, though, so they had to check out the stallion. Usually, Carole didn’t mind whatever it was she had to do to take care of an animal. She was a horse lover and thought that meant she always had to be willing to do anything for the horse. It surprised her that she wasn’t very willing in this instance. She was annoyed with her own discomfort from the tedious work with Starlight and she was annoyed with Mr. Mulroney, both for not being there and for not telling them which horse needed attention.

  She was even more annoyed when, after a twenty-minute struggle to subdue the stallion, Judy discovered that his problem was a pebble in his
shoe. She took the hoof-pick, pried gently until she found the culprit, scooped it out, and released the stallion’s leg. He tested his weight on his foot carefully, and once he was assured that everything was back to normal, he began munching at his hay.

  Judy filled out her paperwork and left a note for Mr. Mulroney.

  “I bet he’ll be embarrassed when he finds out what it was,” Carole said.

  “Not likely,” Judy said. “It’s happened before with this fellow. I think Mr. Mulroney is just willing to pay me to take out the stone because the stallion is so bad-tempered when he hurts.”

  “Some people are really weird!” Carole remarked. “Does someone who can’t bring himself to remove a stone from his own horse’s shoe actually deserve to own the horse?”

  “Maybe not, but the horse is my patient,” Judy reminded her. “I can’t let my feelings about the owner interfere with my responsibility to my patient’s health.”

  “No, of course not,” Carole said. She understood; she just didn’t like it. It surprised her to find that there were things about horse care and training that she didn’t like. For a very long time, she’d always assumed that there wasn’t anything to do with horses that wasn’t wonderful. Now, she knew that wasn’t exactly the case.

  She was glad they only had three more stables to visit that day and they were all nearby. She was ready to go home, to soak in a hot bath and try to wash off all of her disappointment.

  WHEN SHE FINALLY got home, Stevie took a can of soda from the refrigerator, piled seven Oreos onto a little plate, and made a beeline for her room. For once she didn’t care that a snack like that could put all kinds of weight on her and make her too fat to fit into her lovely dream ball gown. As far as she was concerned, the ball gown in question wasn’t a lovely dream anyway; it was a nightmare.

  Stevie ate the Oreos in record time. The soda took a little longer, but not much. She brushed the crumbs off her lap and glared out the window. The whole thing didn’t seem fair to her. She’d been looking forward to having a beautiful dress for the dance with Phil and she’d had nothing but misery from the moment she set foot in the mall—and that didn’t even count the misery she was having trying to talk some sense into her mother! And, while she was doing that, what were her friends doing?

  Her friend Lisa was on a beautiful tropical island, riding a strong, tall horse bareback through the surf of the turquoise Caribbean, probably being followed by a handsome young man, also an excellent rider. Maybe they were even riding at nighttime, with the moon and its shimmering reflection tracing their path along the beach, stretching across the waters to light their way to—Stevie didn’t even want to consider where they were on their way to.

  And then there was Carole. She had a beautiful new horse all her own. She was dividing her time between the wonderful world of animal medicine, where she was assisting Judy to save horses’ lives, and training and riding her very own horse. Stevie could see Carole helping Judy as she tended to a gentle horse stricken by some terrible disease, the worried owner standing by. Carole would hand Judy the instruments and report on the horse’s vital signs until the wonderful moment when the animal, now fully healed, could stand on its own and nuzzle Carole to thank her for saving its life. But that was just the half of it! Carole was also working with Starlight, perfecting his perfection. Stevie imagined the satisfaction Carole must be feeling as she taught him to respond to the slightest command—a weight shift, the minute movement of her heel, a twitch of her hands. She’d be garnering blue ribbons at every horse show in the county come spring.

  Stevie reached for the plate. No more Oreos. She reached for the phone instead.

  It only rang twice before Carole picked it up.

  “You’re home,” Stevie said, surprised and pleased.

  “Finally.” Stevie thought she heard some relief in Carole’s voice. That didn’t make sense. She must have been mistaken. Before she could ask, Carole went on, “I’ve been thinking about you all day. Haven’t you been at the mall?”

  “Yeah,” Stevie said.

  “Did you find it—you know—The Dress?”

  “Not yet,” Stevie said.

  “Oh, it must have been fun, trying on all those beautiful dresses!”

  If only she knew, Stevie thought.

  Carole continued, almost without pause, “I had this image of you finding exactly the right one, though, of course, in my image, I didn’t figure out how you’d pay for it, but you’ll find a way—you always find a way to solve problems like that—and I know whatever you pick, Phil is going to think it’s just dreamy. You know what I saw on television last night? There was a girl going to a dance and she was wearing shoes that were just about invisible. I wonder if you could find any like that. Wouldn’t it be something?”

  “Sure would,” Stevie said. “Especially if the price were invisible, too!”

  Carole laughed. Stevie always had a way of finding something funny and wonderful, and no matter how tricky it could be to find exactly the right dress for the occasion, she knew Stevie would.

  “I’ve been thinking about you, too,” Stevie told her.

  “You have?”

  “Oh, sure, all the wonderful experiences you must be having with Judy, working with horses and their owners and, best of all, having the opportunity to work with Starlight as much as you want, teaching him good manners and tricks, and subtle signals and things like that. It makes such a difference if you know you’ll be the only rider your horse ever has. You must be having a blast.”

  If only she knew, Carole thought.

  “I wonder how Lisa’s doing,” Carole said, changing the subject.

  “Fabulously, I’m sure,” Stevie said. “I was just having this image of her—” She told Carole about her daydream.

  “Sounds just like what would happen to Lisa,” Carole said wistfully.

  IF ONLY THEY knew, Lisa thought. She hadn’t been able to get her mind off Stevie and Carole, knowing they were back home where things were right, and fun. Stevie was probably having a great time trying on every dress in the mall and would have no trouble finding the right one. And Carole was probably riding Starlight every day without worrying about who else would ride him and what might happen while somebody else was on him. He was hers, forever. How wonderful that was! And then Lisa thought about herself. Here she was, on this beautiful island having such an awful time, and wishing more than anything that she were home again or that her friends were with her. They’d make it fun for her. They always did.

  Lisa lay in bed with her hands clasped behind her head, unable to sleep. The light of the full moon streaked into her room, but that wasn’t what was keeping her awake. She was awake because she was confused. Then her mother’s words began running through her head. There will be no more riding for you while we’re here.

  For a reason Lisa didn’t understand, she found the words comforting. They solved the problem for her. She would stop riding for the rest of the vacation. With that thought, Lisa closed her eyes again, and slept.

  THE PHONE BY Lisa’s bed jangled loudly. She sat up with a start and stared at it, bleary-eyed, for a few seconds before answering it.

  “Yes?” she said.

  “Wake-up call,” a voice said cheerfully. “It’s eight-thirty.” The cheerful voice hung up.

  Lisa looked at her clock. The voice had been correct. It was eight-thirty. But why was it calling?

  Then she remembered that she’d asked for the wake-up call during her whole stay so she could be up, dressed, and fed in time for the intermediate ride. But, of course, that didn’t matter today because she wasn’t going to go riding. She snuggled back down into her comfortable bed.

  But she couldn’t fall back asleep. Her mind filled with thoughts of horses.

  She thought about Velvet and the mistake she’d made with the mare. It wasn’t Velvet’s fault, or anybody else’s, that Lisa hadn’t been looking where the trail went and had lost her balance. It was Lisa’s fault. Failing to look ahead w
as a babyish kind of mistake, one that she shouldn’t have made.

  Then she asked herself what had gone wrong with Jasper. She thought about the incident and recalled how the change of speed had come as a surprise to her. It shouldn’t have. She was looking ahead. She saw the water coming up. She knew the horse would have to slow down. How could she have missed that? It was as if she’d corrected the mechanics of the mistake she’d made on Velvet, without correcting the reason for the mistake. Basically, the same thing had happened to her twice, and until that minute, she hadn’t learned a thing from it!

  That was it. Her falls weren’t her horses’ fault; they weren’t Frederica’s fault, or Jill’s, or anybody’s but her own. She’d been so insulted by Frederica’s doubt that she’d forgotten that horseback riding was work and required a rider’s total attention—especially a rider who was as relatively new to the sport as Lisa was.

  “I am a good rider,” she said out loud. “But only when I do the things I’ve learned. When I forget all my lessons, I’m no better than the greenest beginner.”

  Lisa had a painful moment remembering Jill’s snickering the evening before. No one had ever snickered about anything she’d done in her life. It had hurt. But the more she thought about it, the more she saw Jill’s point of view. To Jill, Lisa must have looked like a conceited jerk. She’d talked about all her lessons, her Pony Club, the gymkhana, the rodeo, her friends, and made herself look impressive, and then she’d managed to look like somebody who didn’t know which end of the horse ate hay!

  Riders could be cruel to one another. Lisa had seen that from time to time. People who were good at riding didn’t tend to be tolerant of those who weren’t. Even The Saddle Club had indulged in occasional laughs at new riders’ expense. How could Lisa have expected Jill to react any differently from the way she did? Lisa had been riding like a fool. No wonder Jill had treated her badly.