“Gawd, you’re crazier than Alice.”
“Yep,” I say. I climb into my sleeping bag and fall asleep in my clothes.
* * *
I snooze completely through my time for cleaning and nearly miss breakfast. Alice has to shake me awake. I throw my clothes on, and she pulls me down to the campfire. She says, “You need to go to bed earlier.”
Most of the food’s gone so I grab an apple.
Mr. Sanchez asks, “You got some kind of dietary restriction?” With his accent it sounds kind of exotic to have a dietary restriction. “Apples are good. But you need food for coraje,” he says.
I’m guessing from my two stellar years of Spanish that he means courage. I wasn’t aware that came in a breakfast food.
He goes into the cooking area and comes back with a small bowl full of salad that looks suspiciously like the weeds from my front lawn at home. “Are those dandelion leaves?”
“When everything else dies, it makes a flower.” He raises his gray eyebrows at me. “Plus it’s high in vitamins, minerals, fiber, and protein.”
“You want me to eat dandelions?”
He hands me the ranch dressing and a plastic fork. I could probably eat horse manure with enough ranch dressing this morning. Although that would take more dressing. I dump some on my bowl of weeds and eat up. It’s a little bitter, but I eat the whole thing.
I don’t see Justin or Kaya at breakfast. Darius is in prime form though. Banner and Devri are cackling at his jokes all through cleanup. He should have his own comedy club. The two lovebirds Izzy and Andrew gaze into each other’s eyes over granola bars. Coulter’s around but only sits in his camp chair over by the mess tent drinking coffee. I give him a wide berth while I wash my dishes.
Finally, he calls me over to him. “Justin has to make a house call this morning. You’ll have to tag along with everyone else.”
“Sure,” I say. I wonder why anyone would need a house call from Justin.
“You gonna cause problems?”
“Probably.”
He pauses over his coffee cup. “That’s my girl.”
* * *
I take the halter out to Smokey without any fuss. He seems happy enough. I saddle him without help. Not that I’m going to be using the saddle, but at least I can put it on.
“Today,” says Coulter, “we are going to discuss the basics of pressure and release. Anyone know what pressure is?”
“My mother,” says Charlie.
Scotty says, “Allison Cameron at homecoming.”
Granger laughs. He laughs at everything Scotty says.
Coulter nods. “Yes, that all sounds very life-threatening. But my point is that when you feel pressure you have a choice. Most of us choose to move away from pressure. A horse is no different. So we use that.”
He walks up to Ethan’s bay gelding, Whiskey, and leans against the horse’s neck. “This old boy is a stubborn one. That’s why I put him with Ethan, because Ethan is strong.” Ethan nods his head and gets a few whistles from the crowd when he shows his bicep.
“Ethan, I want you to get this horse to bend its head back to you by slowly pulling on one rein.”
Ethan grabs the rein on the big bay and pulls backward. The horse looks more irritated than interested and keeps his head forward. Ethan pulls harder, and the horse flips sideways. Ethan tries again, and the horse sidesteps again. Coulter takes the horse.
Ethan’s easy smile is long gone. “You aren’t going to let him get away with that, are you?” he says.
Coulter nods at Ethan to step back. “Ethan has a highly developed sense of fairness. Horses do, too. But if you only use force on a horse, you will have to keep using more and more force. If I want him to soften up, get him to give me his head willingly, I pull only as long as he resists. The moment, and this is important, the moment he gives, I release the pressure. That’s fairness. It’s also known as compromise.”
Ethan taps his big boot impatiently in the dirt. “Sir, I disagree. Fairness isn’t compromise. It’s what’s right.”
Coulter nods at Ethan like he’s putting up with him, but just barely. He picks up Whiskey’s rein and gently pulls it back. At first the horse kind of lifts his lip and flicks his ears, but he sure doesn’t give. Coulter calmly stays on him. Then the horse gives, and Coulter drops the rein and pets him. One more time, and the bay bends his neck all the way back to Coulter. Coulter loves all over him. “It’s what works. Everybody give it a try.”
We all go to try it. Except that Smokey bends for me on the first pull.
“Look at that, children. Cassidy has a boyfriend,” says Coulter.
I look around. Banner and Devri sputter laugh to each other. I realize he’s talking about the horse, and I relax a little. I rub his nose.
“Okay, children. What does this have to do with riding? Banner?”
She stops laughing. “If you’re always forcing your horse to do what you want, she starts to resent you?”
Coulter lets that hang in the wind between them for a second. “That’s about the size of it. And if the horse figures things out, she gets what she wants, which is less pressure.”
Banner says, “She still has to give her head.”
“Are we talking about horses still?” asks Ethan. “Because that sounds like something else.”
“Get on your animals, campers,” says Coulter. “Let’s apply the principle. One of you knuckleheads needs to get smart enough to ride that gray mustang for the auction. Just remember, whatever you ask for, the second your horse gives to you, you take away the pressure. Make it a conversation, not an order.”
Everyone starts to get on. Some horses move around a little when their riders try to mount, or prance around once the rider is on. I take Smokey over by a pine tree to get him out of the chaos. Then I stand there looking at him and the stirrup, listening to everyone else get mounted.
I wish Kaya was here. I’m glad Justin isn’t. I wish I was alone. I wish I wasn’t afraid. I look at Smokey. He wouldn’t hurt a charging lion. And we dig each other. I just have to do it. But everyone will be watching if I fail.
“You gonna actually get on now?” asks Banner. “Praise the Lord.”
I turn to my horse. “Listen, Smokes. I know you won’t hurt me,” I whisper. “And I sure don’t want you to miss another riding day. You might croak tomorrow.” Smokey is looking forward, but his ears are backward. He hears me. I close my eyes. I remember swinging up on Grandpa’s paint. I put my hand up on the horn. Smokey steps back, but I manage to keep my foot in the stirrup anyway.
Coulter booms, “What are you doing back so soon, Justin?”
I hear Kaya. “Coulter, look at Cassidy.”
I keep my boot in the stirrup and focus on my picture of me at seven. I hear my grandfather yelling, “Saddle up, Cassygirl.” I see my little-girl legs lifting me up and over, my pink boots flying. I can do this. I swing my right leg. My left leg shakes but stays in the stirrup. I pull myself over. I look around. Re-freaking-silient. I’m in the saddle.
Chapter Sixteen
I EXPECT THE world to stop. But the only thing that holds still is me.
A bunch of kids, led by Ethan, cheer like I’ve scored at the World Cup, which scares all the other horses. Except Smokey, who is virtually napping he’s so chill.
Coulter yells, “What the hell happened?”
Alice rides over to me and beams. “You did it.”
Horses and riders circle around. I’m worried that they might smack into Smokey. And then somewhere, in all the horse havoc, I see Justin standing beside Kaya with his eyes closed. He looks like he’s in pain. Not irritated pain, but real pain.
Then Kaya is at Smokey’s side. “You did it, Cassidy. Now walk him forward. Don’t stop.”
I’m already stopped. Smokey’s eyes are closed. And I’m good with that. Coulter never sai
d I had to actually move around, did he? Then Justin is next to Kaya, pushing her out of the way. His face still looks drained, but he’s smiling. He says, “Okay, Cassidy, ride this old horse. Come on. I’ll let you hit me after.”
“Are you okay?” I ask.
His head jerks up. He smiles again. “I’m fine. Go ride.”
I tap with my legs, and Smokey moves. And then it’s the bicycle thing. My head doesn’t remember as much as my legs do. And my legs are longer and stronger than when I was seven, so it works better. Before I know it, I am walking past Coulter. “There you go, Cassidy. Keep moving. The fun hasn’t started yet.”
We ride toward the arena. My heart is up in my throat because I’m afraid to have this go bad. Everything is rushing inside, so I slow everything down on the outside. I look at the fence and try to remember it’s just wood, not something I’m going to crash into. I follow the other kids. Then I use my reins and legs to move Smokey away from the other horses. I’m hazardous enough without other horses helping me. I focus on moving slow and staying out of trouble.
“That’s it,” yells Coulter. “Look at Cassidy, everyone.”
Which is exactly what I would like them not to do.
Banner rides past and yells. “Skip-de-do, Cassidy, you got your big-girl pants on.”
I look the other direction. I’m too busy for Banner right now.
Everyone rides faster than we do. Ethan, Charlie, and Alice all ride together, but I can’t keep up with them. I move as far as I can to the outside and try to stay out of the way. And we keep going. When I start to feel nauseous I look at Smokey’s tattered old mane and think about how he needs a haircut. I could braid it and put flowers in it. Daisies. I just keep telling myself this crap.
But the truth is that when I ask Smokester to go, he goes. When I pull back and say “whoa,” he stops. He is calm and easy to sit on. In fact, he seems pretty bored by the whole thing.
“Reverse your horses,” yells Coulter.
Everyone’s horse circles around, so I pull my inside rein and tap my outside foot, and Smokey rotates his nose around. It’s as if I’m turning on my own two feet. I don’t think about it as much as I just do it. I look up and see Justin watching me. He has one hand in his pocket and one on the fence. His head is tipped back and he’s chewing one of those delicious pieces of wheat.
“Get your heels down,” he says when I ride past.
Coulter says, “Very good, everyone. Now spread out and get yourself a little room. I’m gonna ask you all to trot.”
Trotting is just another word for bouncing. I don’t want to trot.
We walk past Kaya, and I can see she doesn’t want me to trot either. She’s looking at Coulter and looking at me. She says loud enough for everyone near me to hear, “You don’t have to do that, Cassidy. You just keep walking.”
“Leave ’er alone, Kaya,” says Justin.
I ride away. It’s just me, Smokey, and all the butterflies that just invaded my stomach. All I have to do is stay on. What’s the worst that could happen?
Coulter yells, “Trot your horses, campers. No crowding or cutting in.”
Horses jump and lunge, and then they move past us. Danny’s horse is totally a mess. He’s switchbacking all over the place. I go around him. Everything speeds up. Alice trots past. “Just move to the outside, Cass,” she says. “Keep walking, you’re doing great.” Her smooth black hair flips behind her, and she’s gone, as graceful as a bird.
“Yeah, you just keep walking,” says Banner, gliding past.
I can feel Smokey getting ready. All the other horses are trotting.
I grab the horn of my saddle like a little kid. “Hey, Smokes,” I say softly. That’s it. I don’t even tap him with my foot. I just let go of the brakes in my head, and he slips into a trot.
My body jiggles and smacks all over the saddle. It’s like someone greased my butt. The only reason I don’t fall off is I’m holding so tight to the horn that my hand turns white. Then I shove my heels down to get some traction, and it helps. I straighten up. I lose sight of anything but Smokey. I don’t know if people are talking. All I see and feel is this body under mine that I’m trying to match and sync up with. I shut off everything. There isn’t even sound. And then I’m trotting past Alice and trotting past Charlie and trotting past Ethan. I let go of the horn. And I’m riding and the sun is on my face and I feel like I’m not bouncing, falling, or failing. I’m dancing.
The next thing I know Banner is riding in front of me. She holds her hand up for me to stop. “Stop. Don’t you hear me?” she says.
“Did you say something?”
“Gawd, you’re a freak. We’re done. It’s time to put your horse away.”
Chapter Seventeen
THE BUZZ INSIDE of me doesn’t go away all day. I shovel manure. Still happy. I chop and stack firewood. Still happy. I weed the garden. It’s hot and dirty and I get blisters on my hands. Still. Happy. Even when I’m not thinking about the ride I just feel lighter.
Ethan stands by me as I dump out the wheelbarrow. “You’ve been sandbagging that shit for a big entrance or what?”
“I’m not sure what you just asked me,” I say.
“First you act all scared to get on the horse, then you’re like, ‘Imma ride like this horse so pretty’?”
“When I was little I rode. So I guess I remembered stuff once I got going. But I am afraid to get on a horse. I mean, what if next time is a disaster?”
“What next time? What if next time a volcano erupts in Yellowstone and blows us all to bits?”
Charlie says, “The probability is one in seven hundred thousand. Over the next few thousands of years.”
“You make shit up,” says Ethan.
“I actually don’t.”
They start smacking their shovels into each other like hockey sticks. Three other guys join in. Kaya walks up to us from the campfire. “You boys stop that. I just brought in the mail. And you all got something.” She smiles and hands me a letter.
I’m almost afraid to take it, but I do. Maybe today is just my lucky day.
* * *
My letter is from Oakley. Just the sight of her handwriting makes me so homesick I have to walk up the trail and find someplace to be alone.
Dear Sis,
How are you? Are you riding horses now? I am so jealous! I wish I was riding horses. We go with Mom to work every day and play around with the other kids but it gets boring. One of the boys there smells like brussel sprouts. Jessie Jane says it’s because his mom is a health freak and that’s all she will feed him. At least our mom lets us eat popcorn.
Mom and Dad are still mad at each other, so I don’t like that. AT ALL. Since you aren’t here they argue more. When are you coming home? AWWWW!
Love, your favorite and best sister,
Oakley
P.S. Your less cute sister Jessie Jane says hi.
I lie on top of the rock I’m sitting on and stretch out my legs and arms. I close my eyes and get busy having a full-scale guilt attack. What kind of sister leaves her sibs holding the bag of crazy at home just so she can get away? But if I go home, what will I do? Nothing will change. Mom and Dad will still fight. Or is that just what I tell myself to feel better? Because I don’t feel better.
That night I wait in my sleeping bag, dying for everyone to go to sleep. Banner and Alice write letters. Alice reads some book she hides in her bag. Banner waits till we turn off the lights and smokes outside. She got a letter today, too. When she finally comes to bed I ask, “You okay?”
“Do I seem like I’m okay?”
“Not really,” I say.
“You gonna tell me a bedtime story about your perfect little life?”
I say, “My life isn’t perfect. Believe me.”
“I don’t,” she says.
Chapter Eighteen
GO
LIATH SEES ME coming and nickers. I’m late.
Even with a bright moon I can see a zillion stars tonight. The sky is bursting with them and they’re so sparkling and bright. I never see this many stars at home. I know it’s not true, but the sky feels bigger here. Everything feels bigger here, even me.
“What are you doing?”
Justin steps out of the dark. In the moonlight I can make out the outline of his baseball hat and his pointy shoulders.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Nothing much.” He uses his soft voice. “That was a pretty good ride you had today.”
“Yeah, it was.” I look down and realize I only have on the super thin T-shirt I sleep in. Not that it matters on me. Sort of it does. I fold my arms.
We stand there in the dark. I’m not sure what we’re waiting for. He tilts his hat back and leans against the fence, looking up at the stars. “Did you know that in India the stars don’t look the same?”
“Stars don’t change,” I say. I wonder how well he can see me in this light.
“Yeah, but what we see does.”
I stop thinking about my T-shirt for a minute. Justin never stops confusing me. “Have you been to India?”
He laughs. “I’ve never been anywhere. I stole a book from Coulter’s library.”
“Coulter has a library? Wait, really?”
“Pretty good one, actually. In the big house.”
It gets quiet between us. I rub my arms, more because I’m nervous than because I’m cold. But it’s not awful nervous, just quiet nervous. Finally, I ask, “So why are you up?”
He tips his hat back a little more. “I’ll show you if you give me that apple you brought for big gray over there.”
It’s nice to be out here in the dark, talking like this. “You aren’t mad I’ve been feeding him?”
“Nope.” He shifts a few times onto either foot.
I toss Justin the apple.
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