“I think he’s ready,” Dr. Larry said. “I know you’ve never held a horse while the vet does this before, Robin, but I’ll need you to do what I say, when I say it. Deal?”
“Of course she can do it,” Mom said. “The two of you need to be careful, honey. If anything goes wrong, it’ll damage Twaziem’s nasal passages, cause a nose-bleed, or injure his lungs.”
I eyed her and the vet. “Do we have to do it this way?”
“Yes, because nothing else has worked.” Dr. Larry pulled a long three-eighths inch tube out of his pocket and squirted surgical lubricant into his hand to smooth over the plastic. Then, he stepped up to my horse and eased the rounded tip of the tube into Twaz’s nostril. “Okay, son. Here we go.”
He slid the tube slowly up through the right nostril, never forcing the plastic line. I shifted my hold on the Twaziem’s head to help him partially flex it so he could swallow. Dr. Larry didn’t try to push the tubing into the stomach. He stopped when it was at the esophagus.
“Hold the line for me, Maura,” Dr. Larry told Mom. “Don’t push on it or pull it out.”
She nodded agreement. “You’re the boss.”
Dr. Larry hooked up a plunger to the tube, then began to force water through the plastic. Running water through the tube seemed to do the trick. The flow of mucus from the nose and mouth eased as the lump of feed was flushed down toward Twaziem’s stomach. He heaved a huge sigh of relief when Dr. Larry removed the plastic line.
Mom rubbed Twaz’s face. “You’ll be fine now, fella. Promise.”
Dr. Larry turned to me. “Clear that hay out of his manger, and he’ll need fresh water in his bucket. You may want to add a bit of apple juice to it so he takes on extra fluids.”
“Anything else?” I asked.
“I’ll be leaving him electrolytes and pain relievers with instructions for you to follow. No hay until Tuesday while his throat heals. We don’t want him to choke again. The next time could be fatal. And when he goes back on hay, I’ll want it dampened for him so he eats more slowly. Hold off on that second dose of wormer for another week until he recovers from this episode.” Dr. Larry glanced at Mom. “Do you folks have any straight alfalfa?”
“No, but I’ll send John to the feed store to get him some,” Mom said. “What do you think about pellets if we really soak them down? I hate to have him miss any meals.”
“I understand,” Dr. Larry said. “We still don’t know what choked him, and we don’t want it to happen again. So, let’s be careful. Watch the pellets and his grain so they don’t clump and block his throat.”
I finished cleaning out his manger and taking the hay to Nitro. Twaziem gave me the evil eye like I was trying to starve him, but then he sighed again and started to doze off. I checked his water tub. It was still clean. I headed for the feed room to grab a small bottle of apple juice from the barn fridge.
I’d just poured it into the water tub when Dad hustled in the barn, Bill and Jack right behind him. “I saw Larry’s truck,” Dad said. “What happened?”
“Choke,” Mom said. “But, he’s going to be okay.”
“What is that?” Bill looked like a total hunk in his black tux, white shirt, gold cummerbund, and gold tie. No wonder he asked me what color my dress was. When I told him it was a metallic short waffle knit, he seemed baffled. I added that when my dad and Jack saw it, they’d totally freak about the way it fit, and Bill was happy. We’d have been awesome together. I listened while Mom explained with a few facts thrown in by Dr. Larry.
“So, what’s going on?” Dr. Larry asked. “Do you always wear a tux to the barn?”
“Only on special occasions like Homecoming.” Bill smiled at me. “I’m sure I can borrow some jeans and a sweatshirt from Jack, and we can stay with Twaziem tonight. Otherwise, you’ll worry about him.”
A tear slid down my cheek, and I wiped it away. “You don’t have to do that. This is your last year to go because you’re a senior.”
“It won’t be any fun without you.”
“And she’s going to your celebration,” Dr. Larry said, surprising both of us. “Take my word for it. All your horse will want to do tonight is sleep, Robin. It will stress him out more if you’re hanging out in his stall for the next few hours. It’s enough if you check in on him when you get home.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Hey, I’m the doctor, and that’s why I get the big money.” He winked at me. “Besides, I’ll be back tomorrow to take you with me on rounds, so we’ll make this guy our first patient. Deal?”
“And your mother and I will pop down to see him too,” Dad said. “Now, we’re taking over on chores. You and Jack need to head for the house and get ready to go. We’ll be up in a bit to take photos for the family album.”
I lingered by Twaziem to pet his neck and breathe in his warm horsy odor. When I got home, I’d bring down my sleeping bag and stay with him just to be on the safe side. He sleepily nuzzled me, and I rubbed the blaze on his face. “No carrots for you till Tuesday when your throat’s better. I’ll see you later.”
Chapter Thirty
Sunday, October 20th, 3:05 a.m.
The dance lasted till a little after one in the morning. When I called home for the fifth time, Dad had just come back from the barn. He said that Twaziem was sound asleep. If I stopped phoning, then my parents might be able to go to bed too. Bill and I went out for breakfast with the rest of our crowd. But, when they headed off for late night bowling, we decided to go to my house and the stable, with a brief stop by his place so he could change clothes. He looked concerned when he came back to the car where I waited.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I’ve misplaced my phone,” Bill said. “I thought I must have left it at home, but it’s not in my room or the car.”
“Where was the last place you saw it?” I adjusted my seat belt. “Retrace your steps, and then you’ll be able to find it.”
“Good idea.”
At my house, Bill headed down to the barn to check on Twaziem while I went in to trade my dress for jeans and a sweatshirt. Then, I grabbed a bag of chips and two colas as well as my sleeping bag. I left a note so my folks would know we were down with the horses and went to meet Bill.
* * * *
Monday, October 21st, 5:10 p.m.
As soon as Dad and I turned into the drive, I saw the county cop car. “Give me a break. Why is he here? He said he’d be back in a month, and it’s only been a couple weeks.”
“Well, let’s go find out what’s up.” Dad turned off the motor. “I’m sure there’s a good reason.”
“I so don’t need this when Twaziem is off hay until tomorrow. He’s going to lose weight and Officer Yardley will notice.”
“Robbie, let’s go talk first. You can panic afterwards.”
“Okay. Okay.” I climbed out of the car and hurried in the direction of the barn. When I arrived, I saw the cop standing outside Twaziem’s stall talking to Mom. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing much.” Officer Yardley smiled at me. “He’s gained weight, Robin. He’s looking pretty good.”
“So, why are you here?” I asked. “I still have two more weeks to get more pounds on him and make him look like a horse.”
“My boss sent me. Somebody posted a video of Twaziem on the Internet, and it went viral. He had patches of moving lice. I explained that you’d treated the horse for external and internal parasites.” Officer Yardley shook his head. “But my boss is catching it from his boss, and he’s hearing about it from the county council members. I’m back to make sure that Twaziem is continuing to improve.”
I caught my breath, remembering the first day that Twaz arrived. He’d been covered with lice and Jack wouldn’t let us put him in the barn until we deloused him. And Bill had wanted to use his phone to take pictures. I wasn’t saying any of that to the cop, but I was going to kill Bill as soon as I saw him. He hadn’t put the video up. I knew that. Still, he’d taken the pictures, and somehow he passed them on t
o whoever did post them.
“He was a mess when we got him,” I said. “And he’d obviously had lice for quite a while or they wouldn’t have been so gross. Did you ever go after the Bartlett beasts? Dad and I went to see Mrs. B and talk to her about Twaz. Her grandson bragged about killing Twaz’s mom in front of him when he was only a couple months old.”
Okay, that was a slight exaggeration. Caine put the blame on Ashley, but hey, I was a teenage girl and I was allowed to make the story more dramatic. “I wonder if they’d have filmed him when he had lice.”
“Only one way to find out.” Officer Yardley made a couple more notes. “I’m sorry folks, but I’ll have to come see him every three or four days until the heat dies down.”
“Well, Robbie will run off her log sheets for you,” Dad told him. “And when you talk to the veterinarian, you’ll find out that Twaziem colicked after he was wormed.”
“You have to expect those kinds of reactions dealing with an overload of worms,” Officer Yardley said, closing his metal notebook. “His system needs to adjust to regular care.”
“And he had choke over the weekend,” Mom added. “That’s why he doesn’t have a lot of hay right now. We’ve changed his feed.”
“Dr. Larry advised it,” I said. “He was here to see Twaz yesterday.”
“And he’ll continue to see him quite frequently throughout the next year. Rescue horses need that too.” Officer Yardley smiled at us. “I’ll be in touch with him and the farrier. Yes, Robin, I will follow up on the history of the horse too. He’s doing well here, but if he’d had good care his entire life, then you wouldn’t need to do so much of it.”
“Yeah, but if they’d taken care of him, I wouldn’t have him.” I stepped up to rub Twaziem’s blaze when he nickered at me. “No carrots until tomorrow, buddy.”
Once my folks escorted the cop from the barn, I pulled out my cell and called Bill. He picked up right away, and I asked. “Where did you find your phone?”
“At the tux shop. I must have put it down while I was renting my suit. Why? What’s going on?”
I leaned against Twaziem’s stall. “Remember the first day he got here?”
“Sure, he was a mess.”
“My mom told you not to video him. Did you do it anyway?”
Utter silence and I knew for sure. Fury boiled up inside me. “You took a video of Twaz’s lice and somebody got it off your phone, then posted it on the Internet. The Animal Control guy was just here, and we’re back on probation again. Thanks a lot! I so don’t need to deal with that cop.”
The silence grew until it deafened me.
Finally, Bill said, “I’m sorry, Robin. I didn’t post a video. I have no idea who did. What can I do?”
“Oh, I think dropping dead works.” And I ended the call.
* * * *
Tuesday, October 22nd, 7:10 a.m.
I felt like the center of attention while I waited for Vicky in the Commons. It wasn’t in a good way, either. No, I wasn’t a cross-country star today who was leading her team to an undefeated season. People were poking each other and whispering about me. I wanted to jump up and scream that I saved Twaziem. I didn’t torture him.
Vicky came across the room and hugged me before she sat down. “Jack told me about the video. I checked it out, and it looks really bad, Robin. What are you going to do?”
“There’s nothing I can do,” I said. “I contacted the site and asked them to take it down, but they haven’t yet.”
“They won’t when it’s getting so many hits,” Vicky said. “I wish he looked better. If he had gained all the weight that he will in the next ten months, you could put up a new video showing that.”
“He is clean,” I pointed out. “He doesn’t have any lice now.”
“Yeah, but even stupid people will see his ribs and hips,” Vicky said. “At least Twaziem is back on hay this morning.”
“That’s true.” I stirred my mocha, wishing I could come up with a brilliant idea. “I fought with Bill because he was dumb enough to take that video of the lice and then let somebody get it off his phone.”
“I know. Jack told me. Bill feels really bad about it, Robin.”
“He should. He’s too freaking stupid to live.”
“Who is?” Dani dropped into the seat next to me. “What happened? How did that video get on the Internet?”
Between sips of her latte, Vicky brought her up to speed. Dani listened, then said, “Lady looks almost exactly like Twaziem. We could do a video of her and put it up, pretend it’s him.”
“It won’t work,” I said. “He has a blaze and she has a star and snip. And they’re two different breeds. They’re almost the same color, but they’re two different body types. I appreciate the thought. I just have to think of something else.”
“Yeah. It’s too bad you don’t know who did it because then we could so get them.” She waved at Harry as he came in the cafeteria, and he headed toward us. “You do know that he’s a total geek, don’t you?”
“Harry is?” I stared at her.
“I’m what?” Harry dropped into the chair on the other side of Dani. “So, who hates you bad enough to put up that video, Robin?”
“We don’t know, but you need to take it down,” Dani told him. “And then you need to create a different video using the pictures people have taken of Twaziem since he was rescued and post that. You’ll use music and add in voice-overs from the vet, the shoer, and the trainer.”
“And I suppose you want me to play detective and get the guy who did the dirty deed too, all while I wear a superhero cape.” Harry looked interested, not put off by the idea. “I can do that, but you have to do something for me, Robin.”
“What? My folks won’t let me have that blue Mustang.”
“Brenna wants me to take over more of the mechanical work and that means we need somebody to detail the cars. Will you stop in and see her about it? It’s not that many hours, about twenty a week, but we do pay ten bucks an hour.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “I’ll swing by after practice today.”
The first bell rang, and we got up to head for English class. Olivia met us on the way. “So, when are we kicking Caine’s butt?”
“What?” I stared at her. “Why would I?”
“The word around Mount Pilchuck is that he put up a nasty video about you to make trouble so we’d choose somebody else to lead the cross-country team.”
“How did you hear about that?” Vicky asked. “I know people who go there, but we hardly talk anymore.”
“From Cedar’s cousins,” Olivia said. “Her family had a barbeque last night, and they bragged to her that we’d lose this week. When she went on the Internet, she found out it was all about your horse. She told me this morning that Caine did it to sabotage our team, and she thought we should keep you as our leader.”
“I hadn’t planned to quit,” I said. “Coach tells us, winners never quit and quitters never win. We are so winning the meet this Thursday. Like my grandma says, ‘We’ll teach them to suck eggs,’ and Caine will be sorry he ever messed with me.”
Olivia grinned at me. “I knew you’d nail him and we’re helping.”
“Why?” Vicky asked.
“Because we are a team,” Olivia said, “and when you go after one of us, all of us get you.”
“Well, we’re not on cross-country,” Dani told her, “but Harry and I are helping.”
I lifted my chin, determined to act strong even when all I wanted to do was break down and bawl. I had wonderful friends, and from now on, I’d remember to appreciate them. In class, I sat down and pulled out my comp book before I looked at the writing prompt on the board.
Were you ever accused of something that you didn't do? How did it make you feel and what did you do about it?
Chapter Thirty-One
Friday, October 25th, 4:45 p.m.
While I groomed Twaziem, I told him all about the week. We’d kicked butt at the meet yesterday. Lincoln High rem
ained undefeated. Harry got together with his geek squad friends, and they’d taken down the video. He tried to explain the details to me, but I didn’t get it. I truly didn’t speak the guy’s language. Luckily, Dani did. The two of them had already started compiling pics and interviews for the new video they were doing of Twaziem. Dani would visit next week to take more photos of my horse. I’d stopped in at the car lot, and Brenna hired me to wash cars, starting tomorrow afternoon.
“I guess I’ll have to start cutting up apples for you,” I told Twaziem. “I’m still pissed at Bill for being a screw-up.”
“Must be nice to be perfect.” Jack lined up his stall mucking tools in the aisle. “If you put him out, I’ll do his stall. Are you coming to the game tonight, Princess Robin?”
“Yes, but only to cheer you on, not your ‘too stupid to live’ buddy.”
“Don’t do me any favors.” Jack passed me the training halter and lead. “I told Bill he should hold out for a human being instead of waiting for you to grow up.”
I tossed my head. “Shove it. You, your horse, and the little blue dog that follows behind.”
* * * *
Sunday, October 27th, 5:10 p.m.
Another day working with the vet, another colic. I was amazed at how often horses had trouble with their feed, but like Dr. Larry said, there were so many causes, ranging from bad hay to stress. This time a horse up in Darrington had been overworked at a Saturday show, then had trouble with his feed the next day. I waved goodbye to the vet and headed for the house.
Carrots first and I’d go to the barn, hoping that Jack was done being angry at me. I knew he loved me, and if Bill had done anything that really hurt me, my brother would totally be on my side. Right now, Jack felt I was unfair to his friend, and he didn’t hesitate to tell me so. As soon as I opened the front door, I heard my dad yelling for help.
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