The girl’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know why I should apologize! She attacked me and cut my face open!”
“But you insulted her mother and called her an animal.”
“But I like animals! That wasn’t an insult!”
“Come now,” coaxed Stuart. “You meant it as an insult. Apologize, and we can forget this ever happened.”
“Okay! I apologize! But …”
“Let’s leave it at that,” said Hannah quickly.
Bird smiled at Kimberly. First a small smile, then bigger and broader. Kimberly was suspicious at first but then seemed to realize that it was sincere. She put out her hand. Bird looked at it, unsure how to react. Kimberly began to withdraw it, feeling silly. Suddenly Bird grabbed her hand, then dropped it, embarrassed. Kimberly smiled at her and said, “Can we try to be friends? Not like normal or anything, but friends?”
Bird smiled back. Mission accomplished.
LATER, AT THE ICE cream parlour, the girls sat side by side on a bench licking their cones. Bird wondered if they looked like friends to the people passing by. She hoped so. She looked at Kimberly. Kimby, she’d call her if she ever talked. Kimberly was too adult, too formal. Kimby was a girl who needed friends, thought Bird. Real friends who cared about her for herself and not for the clothes she wore or the cool holidays she took with her dad. Show-off stuff. Underneath all that, Bird could feel a goodness in Kimberly, and a creative swirl. Orange and purple. She offered her chocolate fudge to Kimby to sample. Kimberly took a lick, smiled, then held out hers for Bird. Bird smiled back broadly and tasted Kimby’s Rocky Road.
Bird cast her eyes to the bench on the other side of the parlour door, where Hannah sat talking with Mr. Gilmore. She could tell they were talking about her now, and she strained to hear their conversation.
“Stuart, I need to ask you something. And of course you’ll answer honestly and I’ll accept what you say.” Hannah breathed deeply, then blurted, “What are Bird’s chances of a place at Forks of the Credit? I haven’t had any luck getting her in anywhere else. That I can afford, I mean.”
Bird waited for the principal’s answer, fingers crossed. The tantrum at dinner should’ve done the trick.
Stuart sat in thought for a moment. Finally, he said, “I think we can try again.”
Oh no, thought Bird.
“Thank heavens,” whispered Hannah with pure relief. “I didn’t know what I was going to do if you said no. Thank you, Stuart.”
“Hannah, I can’t promise that she can stay.”
“I understand.”
“I hope so. Tonight at dinner was a good example of the problem. Bird reacted to Kimberly’s prods swiftly and violently. Not much has changed since last year.”
“But she apologized. I’ve never seen her do anything like that before.”
Stuart smiled. “That’s what changed my mind.” I can’t believe this, thought Bird.
“I came over tonight to tell you that we couldn’t have her back this year. Now I think there might be hope after all.”
“She’ll be there, first day of school. With bells on.”
“Hannah, I must caution you. I can’t jeopardize the entire class for one child. If she causes too much chaos …”
“I know.”
“If it doesn’t work out, it won’t be for lack of trying.”
“Thanks, Stuart,” Hannah said earnestly. “And I’m sorry about your shirt.”
Stuart looked down at his white shirt, now stained forever with mustard. “Invite me to dinner when Eva’s in town and we’ll call it even.”
“Deal.” Hannah smiled. “You can’t know how much this means to me. And how much this will mean to Bird.”
More than you know, thought Bird sadly. I hate school. Everyone thinks I’m a freak. Even I feel like a freak when I’m there.
Bird sat dejected. School started soon. Her life as a free person was over. She let her melting scoop of chocolate fudge fall to the ground.
BY TEN O’CLOCK, KIMBERLY’S mother still hadn’t shown up. There was no answer on Lavinia’s cell phone, and no one was home. Bird noted that Hannah had left four messages, just in case.
“Kimberly?”
The girl looked up from Horse Sport Magazine, where she and Bird were checking out some shiny new horse trailers. They particularly liked the Four Star three-horse slant with a dressing room.
“You’re in the guest room tonight. Bird’s blue nightgown will fit nicely, and here’s a spare toothbrush. Towels and soap are in the linen closet at the top of the stairs.”
“But Mom’ll be here any minute!”
Hannah smiled gently. “Don’t worry. Climb into bed now, and when she comes, I’ll wake you up. We all need our sleep. Bird, you too.”
Bird was already yawning at the welcome thought of bed, but
Kimberly looked uncertain.
“Aren’t you tired?” asked Hannah. “You’ve had a long day.”
“Yes, actually. Very tired.”
“Then come along. Bird’ll show you to your room. You can get some sleep before your mom arrives.”
Kimberly’s eyes filled with tears. “Do you really think she’s coming?”
“I’m sure she is.”
Kimberly whispered, “I think she forgot me.”
“Your mother wouldn’t forget you,” Hannah said lightly. “She’s just been held up.”
“At her boyfriend’s house!” Kimberly spat out. “She always forgets about me now that she has her precious boyfriend!”
Hannah reached out to her, and Bird watched as Kimberly’s anger dissolved into tears. She felt sorry for her new friend. She knew exactly how she felt.
“Don’t you worry.” Hannah gave Kimberly’s shoulder a squeeze. “He’s old, too! As old as my grandfather. It’s disgusting. And she acts like a baby around him. He buys her everything she wants, and
likes her to wear teenager clothes. Ugh!” Hannah patted her back and listened.
“Mom doesn’t spend any time with me any more.”
A little later, when Kimberly’s head started to nod, Hannah helped her upstairs. Bird ran ahead and opened the guest room
door and turned down the bed. The minute Kimberly’s head hit the pillow, she was asleep.
Bird kissed her lightly on the cheek. She hoped that the sleeping Kimby would think it was her mother. It’s hard to live without a mother’s love, thought Bird. Even for a short time. She turned out the light and quietly closed the door.
The phone rang loudly, cutting through the stillness. Hannah ran to her room to answer it, not wanting to wake Kimberly. “Hello?”
Bird peered through the crack in the door. Hannah sat on the edge of the bed, her shoulders tense. It had to be her mother.
“Of course, Eva, you’re welcome to stay — Julia and Randy, too.” Hannah’s voice was light, but Bird knew that she was making an effort to sound happy and relaxed.
“A real family. That sounds good. I’m happy for you, Eva.” Hannah smiled sadly. “Of course I mean it, Eva.”
In the dim light of the hall, Bird felt actual pain as her heart filled with grief. She choked back a sob so Hannah wouldn’t know she was there. Bird had no illusions. Her mother’s “real family” didn’t include her.
3
ABBY MALONE
On the ground I’m a pet but on my back all friendship ceases. This is a problem.
Bird woke early the next morning and dressed quickly. She’d spent much of the night thinking about her mother and hadn’t got much sleep. But the new day was bright and sunny, and she wasn’t going to waste another second on Eva. Today, she would deal with Sundancer.
She thought about the strange horse as she pulled on her socks. His refusal to communicate with her bothered her. It made her feel handicapped, like a normal person. He was an enigma all right, but Bird had made a vow. She would not be defeated.
As she passed the guest room door she was careful not to disturb Kimberly, who was still fast asleep. Sh
e didn’t want to awaken Hannah either. There was something she must do, and Hannah could not know.
Bird crept down the stairs and tiptoed into the kitchen, where she filled her pockets with carrots and sugar cubes and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl. Thus fully armed, she walked out to the field. Sunny looked up, stared at her, then aloofly resumed grazing.
Hector waddled down from the barn wagging his tail. Nice day.
Sure is, Hector. Did you sleep well?
Never better.
How’s the arthritis?
Same as usual. You’re not going in there again, are you?
I think I am, Hector.
He’s going to kill you. Stay away.
I know you love me, but I have to do this.
I’ll be watching.
Bird smiled and rubbed his soft, yellow head. You’re a good dog. She climbed up on the fence and considered her plan. Bird had noted the way Sundancer had relished the apple slices the day before. Now it was time for something new. If this horse wouldn’t let her come to him, she’d make him come to her.
Slowly, she climbed down into Sundancer’s field. She placed carrots and sugar cubes about a foot apart in a row beside the fence. Task completed, she sat down in the grass at the end of the row and began to eat apple as loudly as she could. Crunch. Crunch.
Sundancer did his best to remain uninterested, but as Bird continued to enjoy the delicious treat, Sundancer got more aggravated. He was missing out, and he didn’t like it one bit.
Sundancer grabbed the furthest carrot from the ground, eyeing Bird. He ate it, then took a sugar cube. As Bird had hoped, he moved closer and closer as he ate his way along the row. Bird sat still, moving only her jaws as she slowly devoured the apple. Visions of yesterday’s mad charge danced in her head. She was ready to leap out of the way should Sundancer decide to knock her over. But so far, so good.
Fifteen minutes passed before Sundancer’s nose was at the apple. Bird shifted her weight and turned her back to him. She took another nibble.
Sundancer’s neck stretched out to follow the apple. He nudged Bird’s arm. She pushed back. Bird shifted again, forcing Sundancer to follow her.
She let him have a taste. He tried to take the whole thing, but Bird stopped him at a bite. Then another. She put her hand on his jaw and stroked him while he enjoyed his hard-won prize. He didn’t move away.
Very slowly, Bird stood and offered him the rest. As he gobbled the apple, she seized her moment. In one fluid motion, she grabbed his mane in both hands and jumped lightly onto his back, using the fence rail as a springboard.
Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?
HANNAH AWOKE FEELING REFRESHED and calm. It was Sunday, the least hectic day of the week. She stretched and opened the curtains to look out at the day.
She froze. In the paddock directly opposite Hannah’s window, Bird was sitting astride the new horse. Bareback.
As she watched, the big chestnut exploded. He reared up and twisted. Hannah gasped as Bird crumpled into a heap in the dirt. The horse casually kicked up his heels, put his nose to the ground, arched his back, and bucked. His rear legs shot straight up in the air and kicked at the sky. Then he turned and looked at Bird. Bird stood up, brushed off her clothes, and walked toward him.
In her blue cotton nightgown and fuzzy leopard-spotted slippers, Hannah tore downstairs and out the door. “Bird!” she yelled. “Bird!” Both Bird and the horse turned to look. Hector wagged his tail and barked a hearty welcome. Hannah kept running until she got to the fence.
“Bird,” she panted, awkwardly climbing over the rails, “what did I tell you about this horse? He cannot be ridden. We have to do this one step at a time. We must retrain him, like he’s a two-year-old.
He is unsafe! Do you understand?” Hannah spoke far louder than she probably intended in her effort to get through to Bird. “Do you? Nod if you understand.”
Bird nodded. Actually, she had just begun to understand. “Then why the heck did you get on him?”
For the same reason people climb mountains, I guess, Bird reasoned.
The horse was gloating. Bird saw it. There was an arrogant, superior look of satisfaction in his eyes, as if he’d won a contest. Which, in fact, Bird acknowledged he had. Sundancer two, Bird, zip.
Hannah saw it, too, and stared at him. She had her work cut out for her, and it was work that needed to be done now. If Sundancer believed he could push people around, he would try to get his way in everything, until finally he would no longer be useful. She just hoped it wasn’t already too late.
She reached out quickly and grabbed his halter before he could move away. “Bird. Get me the lunge whip, my gloves, and a lead line. Fast. I need my riding boots and the socks that are in them, too. Please. They’re right by the kitchen door. And my jeans. They’re in the basket on the washing machine.”
Bird ran off to do as she was bid. This was going to be good.
TEN MINUTES LATER, HANNAH stood rooted to the ground in front of the proud chestnut gelding. They were in the round pen — a circular enclosure measuring sixty feet in diameter, surrounded by six-foot-high, solid oak walls. It was a valuable training area, and Hannah used it often to teach young horses.
They had interrupted Cliff ’s morning chores, and he joined them now, a curious look on his face. “Hannah, it’s six thirty in the morning.”
Hannah turned away from the horse’s haughty gaze for a brief second to look at Cliff. Three years earlier, he’d come to the farm from the racetrack. He was tall and gaunt and full of horse knowledge.
“Don’t worry, Cliff. I haven’t gone insane, or at least not more than usual. Bird was just dumped by pretty boy here, who thinks it’s funny. I don’t think he should get away with it, and now is always the best time to sort out a problem.”
Cliff nodded. “Give you credit, Hannah. If anyone can fix this rascal, it’s you. Need a hand?”
“Can you get the gate?” Cliff nodded.
Bird watched from the stands as Hannah untied the rope from the horse’s halter. She flicked the lunge whip and yelled, “Get up!” The horse turned to look at her, eyes hard and challenging. “Get up!” Hannah called again, flicking at his hind end. The horse sat back on his haunches, sprang up in the air then dove down with a mighty buck. He turned his back to Hannah and kicked out at her, missing her by inches.
“Get out of there, Hannah!” cried Cliff. He, too, was watching from the stands, and Bird could see the fear in his eyes and hear it in his voice. “He’s going to kill you!”
Hannah flicked the whip harder. “Don’t worry, Cliff, this has got to be done. Get up!” The horse bucked again, sending a rear hoof at Hannah’s head.
“Let me do it, Hannah. Or send him back. He’s not worth dying for.”
“Get up!” Hannah called, chasing the horse around the pen. “Cliff, I’m not going to die. Please. You’re distracting me.”
Now the horse was galloping in a circle around Hannah. “Good boy!” she cooed, keeping her whip pointed at his rear. When he slowed, she flicked the whip and called, “Get up!” Around and around he went. No more bucks, but his eye still challenged.
Bird watched, chastened. She’d failed. Again. No other horse had ever blocked her out this way. She hoped Hannah would be more successful. If she wasn’t, Sundancer would be useless.
Out in the pen, Hannah changed the rules. She put the whip in her right hand and stopped Sundancer’s action. The big horse skidded to a halt and spun his rear toward her, preparing to kick. She snapped the whip loudly, sending him around the other way.
With ears pinned back and tail swishing, he was the picture of a malevolent spirit. Even so, there was no disguising his majestic carriage and his natural grace. His action was smooth and liquid, and he moved around the pen with effortless athleticism.
Hannah was relentless. Around and around he ran, Hannah on his tail, snapping the whip and yelling, “Get up!” She never once touched him, but it was plain that she meant business.<
br />
Bird admired the way her aunt worked. Tough lady, Bird thought. Her instincts are right, and she knows what she’s doing. Sundancer needs this lesson. He is the most pigheaded horse I’ve ever met, and he feels superior. Maybe this will make him worse, but it’s worth a try. He’s not good for much as he is.
Twenty minutes later, the horse was flagging but still obstinate. Hannah kept after him.
Bird understood exactly what her aunt was doing. The whole idea was to have him submit. That was the only way he would respect Hannah enough to allow himself to be trained. Many horses hardly resist at all.
In wild mustang herds, the matriarch, or dominant mare, chases a wayward youngster away from the herd and keeps him away until he begs to be included in the group. If she doesn’t let him back in, he will be alone and therefore vulnerable to predators. Young fillies and colts soon learn to behave themselves according to the rules of the herd, or die. Monty Roberts, John Lyons, and other respected trainers base their taming technique on this facet of equine behaviour. Bird had read their books, and she knew from her own experience that they were correct. This was what Hannah was doing now.
Sundancer was breathing hard. His nostrils were flared and bright red. Sweat poured off him.
Cliff interrupted again. “Hannah, he’s going to burst a lung.”
“Better dead than dangerous. He’s no good to anyone this way. He has to submit. He can’t be the boss.” Hannah let him slow to a trot but kept him moving forward.The horse stopped, sides heaving. He faced Hannah and stared at her with hard eyes and a stiff jaw.
“Move on, you stubborn fool!” she cried.
He reared up and lashed at her with his front hooves. Hannah snapped the whip at his feet. He jumped and spun.
Bird had never seen a horse react like this. Usually it took no more than fifteen minutes before the head dropped and the jaws chewed. Then it was a nice, quiet time of saddling up and beginning the training process. But Sundancer did not want to be bettered by anyone. Already thirty minutes had passed and the horse looked like he’d never submit. Hannah was tiring but determined. Who, Bird wondered, would outlast whom?
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