A Horse like Barney

by Jessie Haas

  “How old did you think he was?” Sarah asked. “Missy thought he was twenty.”

  Mom shrugged and winced. “I don’t know enough to tell for sure. He might be as old as that.”

  “That’s pretty old.”

  “Not really. My Mary lived to be thirty-two, and I was still riding her when she was twenty-five.”

  Five years from now, thought Sarah. I won’t even be as old as Missy. Suddenly she was so angry with Mom that she didn’t dare say another word. After that whole long lecture, to take over like this as soon as she saw a horse she liked! It wasn’t fair!

  And Dad, too—how could he have misunderstood so completely?

  “After lunch I’m going to pick blueberries,” Mom said. “Do you want to come?”

  “No,” said Sarah, and she wasn’t going to eat lunch with them either if she could help it. “Take Dad.”

  “Maybe I will,” Mom said. “He spends too much time locked up in that study.”

  Go ahead! thought Sarah. I hope you both get lost!

  18

  A Fork in the Road

  “Are we going to see another horse today?” Mom asked at breakfast the next morning.

  Sarah frowned into her orange juice. Mom was really overdoing the passive spectator bit. “No,” she said. “I … have to make up my mind about these two first.” Mom’s bright gaze didn’t turn aside. “Anyway,” Sarah said, “I have to go help Albert get ready for the ride. He’s leaving tomorrow.”

  “Wish him good luck for me,” Mom said.

  Sarah and Albert spent the day soaping Albert’s saddle and bridle, rolling bandages, washing and brushing and airing saddle pads, packing the tack trunk. Albert didn’t talk much, and Sarah had plenty of time to think.

  It was like coming to a fork in the road and having to decide which one to take. Up one fork Sarah rode Roy—in some terror, slightly overwhelmed, but going far. That fork could take her to the Hundred Mile Trail Ride, if she wanted, or to the big log jump at the event, or to the Morgan show. It could take her almost anywhere.

  Up the other fork she rode Thunder, and that road went a shorter way, ending at a green pasture, where Sarah must dismount and watch a swaybacked Thunder graze. On that fork she rode more slowly, more peacefully at first. But she could feel herself getting angry, frustrated, maybe even disliking Thunder by the end because he couldn’t go faster and do more.

  All right, it’s Roy! she decided, and rode up the Roy fork again. But just before the road curved out of sight, she heard a nicker, stopped, and looked back. Thunder stood tied there, looking after them, and approaching him from behind was a huge, brutal man with a knife—

  “You get a ribbon just for completing the ride.” Albert’s gloomy voice broke into Sarah’s thoughts. “If I get one, I should cut it in half and give one half to you.”

  “No, thanks,” Sarah said, trying to sound cheerful so Albert wouldn’t ask questions. “It’s your fanny that’s gonna be in the saddle for a hundred miles! Maybe next year I’ll get my own ribbon.”

  Not on Thunder, though. She thought of asking Albert’s advice, but she’d already had it once. He would vote for Roy, as Missy had. Jill almost certainly would vote for Thunder, just like Mom. Two votes each. Sarah still had to break the tie.

  I wish I could buy Thunder and give him to Jill, she thought, packing Albert’s small stock of veterinary supplies. Was that another branch of the road? She didn’t get very far along it before Pete and Fred appeared, wanting to play cowboys and Indians. Thunder had been pampered by a loving girl owner for years. He wasn’t going to enjoy Pete and Fred.

  “Well, I guess I’d better hit the trail,” Albert said, when the tack trunk was all packed. “Want to ride along on Ginger?”

  “I don’t think she could keep up with him anymore.” Sarah looked at Albert’s gloomy face. “Albert, aren’t you looking forward to this at all?”

  Albert shrugged, staring at the floor. “I won’t know anybody … and … he’s in shape, I guess, but I’m not sure I am. You did half the riding, remember.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve been working so hard. You must be tough!”

  “Not where it counts!” Albert summoned up a smile. “I guess I’ll have a good time. I’ve been wanting to do it for so long.”

  But that wasn’t any guarantee, as Sarah knew full well. They both stood a moment longer, gazing down at the closed lid of the tack trunk. Then Sarah said, “At least you have the chance,” at the same time that Albert said, “At least I can try,” and they laughed feebly.

  “I won’t see you before you go,” Sarah said. “Good luck, okay?”

  “Yeah. And thanks for all the help, Sarah. I really mean it.”

  Mom was waiting for something to happen. She didn’t ask questions, but she kept watching. Sarah could feel her bright, interested gaze everywhere, even alone in her room, even when she biked over to see Barney.

  She didn’t ride him. The time for that was past. She only went to take him an apple, to visit and pat his neck.

  As she leaned against the gate and whistled, she saw tracks—sneaker tracks, about the size of her own. In the mud inside the gate were a few bright, confetti-sized crumbs of carrot. Jill. Sarah was glad they both hadn’t come at the same time. She couldn’t share this struggle with Jill without feeling spoiled and selfish.

  Barney trotted eagerly from the lower part of the pasture, leaned over the top bar, and poked Sarah’s raincoat pocket with his nose. Sarah gave him a piece of apple. She’d cut the apple into thin slices, so she could dole them out one by one and keep his attention longer. But Barney seemed to feel that feeding a large and hungry horse like him a mere sliver of apple was almost insulting. He swallowed it without seeming to notice, his nose still stretched out pleadingly.

  “Oh, Barney,” Sarah said. “What am I going to do?” He was the only friend she could ask right now. But Barney just pushed against the gate, so hard that it creaked. Sarah gave up and fed him the rest of the slices.

  “What if it was you? What if you needed a good home?”

  But if Barney needed a good home, Sarah knew she’d give up all her dreams of adventure and glory to take him. He was a friend, and that was all there was to it. That was what Thunder needed now, but his friend was far away in Germany.

  Maybe I could find him a home, Sarah thought. In spite of what Albert had said, she did like Thunder as a person. Not as much as she loved Barney or even Herky, but she knew she’d always hate herself if she let something bad happen to him when she had the power to stop it.

  All right, she’d find him a home if she could. If she couldn’t, then the decision was made.

  In the meantime she’d keep her fingers crossed that nobody bought Roy. She had asked the Pages to call if anybody else seemed interested, but Sarah wasn’t sure they’d actually do it.

  Well, that was the risk she had to take.

  “Thanks for your advice,” she called to Barney, who was moving slowly away. He lifted his head and looked at her for a moment and then went back to grazing.

  19

  Meant to Be

  Saturday morning Mom said, “We’re going to go for a drive, Sarah. Will you be all right by yourself?”

  “Sure. Where are you guys going?”

  “Oh, just back roads,” said Mom airily. She must have decided she could drive around and look at countryside without having a mission. Resolutely Sarah punched down her rising sense of guilt.

  “Have a good time.”

  She herself had anything but a good time. The day she could see through the window was bright and fair, a day to spend outside. Sarah spent it on the telephone.

  She called so many people that she actually got over being nervous about it. She amazed herself by talking easily with total strangers.

  But no one wanted Thunder—from 4-H families to riding schools, people looking for a stable mate for a lonely horse, even a nearby petting zoo. By early afternoon Sarah’s ear hurt from being pressed to the receiver. S
he had the feeling that the phone bill for all this would eat up more than a month’s allowance. And she knew for certain: Thunder was going to be hers.

  When she finally accepted this, Sarah got up from the telephone table. She made herself a sandwich and took it out to the hammock, with Star trailing wistfully behind. From there she could see the barnyard, where Goldy was sunning herself and where Thunder would soon stand, looking back at her.

  It was true what Missy had said. The horse market had crashed, and good horses were a dime a dozen. If Mom had only investigated earlier, she would have known that, and she wouldn’t have spent the summer working. They would have bought a horse much earlier, and none of this would be happening.

  Thunder, of course, would be on his way to auction. On the other hand, Sarah would probably never have met him, so it wouldn’t bother her.…

  The telephone rang faintly in the house. For the space of two rings Sarah was determined not to answer. Then she tossed her sandwich to Star and sprinted for it.

  “Sarah? Missy.”

  “Oh, hi. How was your vacation?”

  “Fine. Listen, what are you doing about this horse thing?”

  Sarah said, “I just spent all morning trying to find a good home for Thunder.”

  “So you could get Roy with a clear conscience?”

  “Yes.” It was nice that Missy understood so quickly. That was what made a friend, not just being the same age.

  “Well, I don’t know if this would work … but maybe I could take Thunder. I mean, I can’t buy him, but if they wanted to keep him safe, and they’d give us a little money for hay, we could probably winter him here. He’d be great company for Barney.”

  “Have you asked your parents?”

  “Not yet, but they’re a couple of softies. I bet I could convince them.”

  “Missy, I don’t know. I think I should just take him. I mean, if the Amsters really wanted to, they could have found someplace to board him. I think they just want to get him off their hands.”

  “You might be right. So you’ve made up your mind?”

  “Yes,” said Sarah. Saying that, she gave up jumping the log on Roy, and she gave up the Hundred Mile Trail Ride. It made a hole inside her, like the hole she’d felt when she was afraid. But somehow she knew that wasn’t as bad as having to feel guilty for the rest of her life. And if Jill can wait, she thought, then so can I! “Yes, I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to tell Mom as soon as she gets back.”

  “Well …” said Missy. “He’s a great horse. You’ll love him.” I love him already, Sarah thought. That’s the problem.

  “Want to go on one last road trip?” Missy asked after a moment. “We could go up on Monday and see the award ceremony at the Hundred.”

  “Sure,” Sarah said. She’d never go there on Thunder, but at least she could go see Albert. She might as well practice being a good sport.

  Mom and Dad got back in midafternoon. Dad looked a little bewildered. Maybe getting out of his study and seeing the world had been too much for him. He took one look at Sarah, in her hammock, and bolted for the house.

  Mom came over. Her expression was strange, too—bright and fizzy and held back, like the moment in a joke just before the punch line.

  “Hi, Sarah.”

  “Hi.” Small talk? “How was your drive?”

  “Great!” Mom said. “What did you do all day?”

  Sarah made a lightning decision: She was not going to tell Mom what all those calls were about. Sometime before the phone bill came, she was going to think up another explanation. If Mom knew how hard she had worked not to have Thunder, she would never agree to buy him. “Oh, not much,” she said, and drew a deep breath. “I … made up my mind. About a horse.”

  Mom’s odd smile seemed to freeze. Her drive in the country had had a very strange effect on her! “And?”

  “Thunder,” Sarah said. “It has to be Thunder.”

  “You don’t think he’s too old for you?”

  Sarah looked away. “Oh, maybe a little,” she said, making her voice airy and offhand. “But he’s such a nice horse.…”

  “He is a nice horse,” Mom said. She looked down at her toe, which was drawing diagrams in the dirt beside the hammock. Then she took a deep breath and said, “So I went ahead and bought him today, and if you really want him, Sarah, he’s yours. But I didn’t buy him for you; I bought him for me.”

  Sarah stared. She felt as if the web of the hammock were stretching, down and down. She kept seeing Mom fall off Thunder, Mom grinning.…

  “Sarah?” Mom was blushing now. “Sarah, I do mean it. You saw him first. I can find another horse.…”

  Sarah’s tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of her mouth. She got it loose, with a clucking sound. “I … didn’t know you wanted a horse.”

  “I didn’t know either,” Mom said, “until I rode him. And then I thought, you know, horses aren’t just for kids. Why shouldn’t I have a horse of my own? I worked hard to make money for your horse, and then it seemed as if I wasn’t going to need it all, and I realized here I am back in the country, I always said I’d have another horse someday, and here’s a wonderful horse! And he needs a home. It seemed as if it was meant to be.”

  Sarah felt her head nodding: a big head, a hollow Humpty-Dumpty head, and it nodded all by itself. So Dad didn’t get it all that wrong; so Mom had been like Jill inside, wishing for a horse all these years and never realizing, until she fell in love with Thunder.… And they had sneaked out without telling her and bought him, and left her to get gangrene of the ear on the telephone for no reason at all! It would have served Mom right to come home and find out that Sarah had given him away!

  “All right,” she said, sitting up in the hammock. “He’s yours! But you have to pay his phone bill!”

  20

  More Waiting

  At the Pages’ house a deep male voice answered the phone. Sarah listened for several seconds before she realized it was an answering machine.

  “Please leave a short message after the tone.…”

  Sarah hung up. Now what?

  She dialed again, and after the tone she said, “This is Sarah Miles. I came to see Roy twice and … please don’t sell him to anyone else. I want to buy him.”

  Mom had come in behind her. “Answering machine? Did you leave your number?”

  “Oh, no.” Now she had to call back again—Sarah shifted the receiver to her other ear. They were going to think she was an idiot. I don’t care, she thought. As long as they haven’t sold him …

  Now it was time to wait, again. Sarah wandered to the kitchen window and stood looking out at the barnyard. She still had that sense of loss. Her insides hadn’t caught up with reality yet, and she felt as if she were longing for something she couldn’t have. This must be the way Jill felt all the time.…

  “Mom? Do you think Jill could ride Thunder sometimes when she comes over?”

  “I should think so,” Mom said. “Yes, I’d be happy to let Jill ride him.”

  Well, that was something, anyway.… But Sarah’s imagination wouldn’t carry her out along the logging trail on Roy, with Jill alongside on Thunder. She didn’t dare start dreaming yet.

  Midmorning on Sunday the phone rang. Sarah’s stomach had clenched in a hard knot around her cornflakes by then, and at first she didn’t recognize the voice.

  “Hello, may I please speak with Sarah?”

  “Um, that’s me.”

  “Hello, Nancy Page. And you want Roy, I understand.”

  Sarah clutched the receiver hard. “Yes. Is he—you haven’t sold him yet?”

  “Oh, no—and I’m delighted that you want him. I think he’ll be ideal for a person your age. Now, where do you live? Because I have a riding lesson this afternoon, and if you’re nearby, I could drop him off.”

  Sarah nearly dropped the receiver. “Uh, maybe you’d better talk to my mother.” She beckoned frantically to Mom, who was in the kitchen squashing blueberries for jam. Drop him o
ff? As if he were a kitten or a library book?

  Mom, too, seemed stunned. She listened for a few moments and then she said, “Yes, we’d be on your way. I could certainly write you a check, but you wouldn’t want to cash it before Tuesday afternoon.… I see. Not a problem …” After a second she clamped her hand over the mouthpiece and said, “Sarah, are we ready?”

  Sarah drew a complete blank. Ready? She had had all summer.…

  “Fine,” Mom said into the telephone. “We’ll expect you around one then.” She hung up the receiver carefully, as if it might be a bomb. “Sarah—Sarah, this woman loads up her horse every week and drives an hour and a half to a riding lesson, just the way I’d run down to the store for a loaf of bread. Sarah, what have we gotten ourselves into?”

  The blueberries stayed half squashed on the table while Mom and Sarah frantically cleaned the barn. There were going to be two horses, so the few bits of horse equipment Sarah owned must be moved out of the second stall. Bedding had to be put down. “And what are we going to do with her?” Mom asked, looking at Goldy.

  “She can stay in this stall for a few days, till Thunder comes.…” Did Roy like goats? Did he get along with other horses? And how was he to handle and approach, loose in the pasture or in a stall? She knew almost nothing about him, Sarah realized. She had ridden him twice, she had led him in a bridle, and she had patted him as he stood in the crossties. He might be a perfect monster in all other situations … and he was coming!

  Everything was different from the way she’d expected—everything! She’d waited ages for Barney to arrive—endless hours of waiting. She’d expected that again, and she’d imagined savoring it. A little pause, a time for thought seemed more suitable to the importance of the moment than this scramble.

  “Did you check the pasture fence?” Mom asked. They were picking up rocks now—as if Roy had never stepped on a rock. But it seemed important to do something.

  “Not yet,” Sarah said. “He’ll stay in the barnyard for a few days anyway.” And when I do fix it, you’d better help, she thought. Your horse will be out there, too.… Now she heard the sound of an engine down at the bottom of the road.