Spirit Riding Free: Lucky's Diary

by Stacia Deutsch

  The PALs Summer Adventure Horse Camp was about to get more adventurous.

  Diary Entry

  I am keeping my diary with me at all times because strange things are happening, and I don’t want to forget anything.

  First, today, Abigail told me that she can’t find her camp roll-call list. That isn’t weird by itself, but other things are happening, too, that make it highly suspicious. I feel like Boxcar Bonnie, super sleuth and star of my favorite mystery book series, getting the sniff of a mystery.

  Second, I saw the kids from Adventure Camp hanging out together in the town square. I was surprised to discover it was all of them at the same time. They looked as if they were having a serious conversation. When I went by to say “Hi,” and see what was going on, they scattered as if they shouldn’t have been there at all. Even Stella hurried away, and I would have thought she’d have stayed around to tell me everything that was wrong with camp and what she’d like to see improved when we met up again on Monday.

  Third, as I rode to where Abigail and Pru were meeting me, I noticed Julian coming out of the general store. Actually, Spirit saw him first, and pointed him out. Gotta give Spirit credit—he’s like a watch-horse sometimes!

  It was then that I saw Oliver hurry over to Julian. That was odd because I’d also seen Oliver a few minutes earlier with the other campers. Oliver talked to Julian and pointed at the campers; then the two of them went to where the campers were standing around. They all gathered around Julian while he stood in the middle, talking in a low voice that I couldn’t hear.

  I didn’t understand. Why would Julian be hanging out at a camper meeting? What was going on?

  I had many questions, but no time to figure out the answers. I was late to meet up with Abigail and Pru. When I got to the barn, I told them that my cousin was acting suspiciously.

  Pru reined back Chica Linda to a walk, so we could speak. Abigail turned sidesaddle on Boomerang and told us she thought it was nice that Oliver was hanging out with the other kids. She even suggested that he might participate in the O-Mok-See at camp on Monday.

  I hope he’ll get involved.

  Pru was worried that we’re starting to focus too much on just one kid. She was mad about the whole apple thing, and I had to agree with her.

  There was something strange happening that I couldn’t put my finger on.…

  Spirit interrupted our serious talk with a loud neigh. I followed his eyes and could see several small dots on the horizon.

  “Are those our campers?” Pru asked, cupping her hands like binoculars and looking through.

  “That’s nice,” Abigail said. “They want to hang out so much that they aren’t even taking a day off.”

  “I think Julian is leading them to the rocky outcrop,” Pru said.

  The rocky outcrop is a forbidden canyon wall. The huge rocks and boulders are stacked like marbles, stretched high toward a high cliff edge. They look fun to climb, but the boulders aren’t secure. Rock slides happen pretty often, and since the rocks are big and heavy, the area’s considered very dangerous.

  We spurred our horses into a gallop and took off to see what was going on.

  Pru was right. Julian was leading, and he had the entire camp with him. Not just that, but I could see he had Abigail’s roster as well. It was folded and sticking out of his shirt pocket, but there was no mistaking Abigail’s handwriting.

  I was so mad that I shouted at him instead of asking politely what he was doing.

  Julian didn’t flinch. He calmly thanked Abigail for the list and offered to give it back to her.

  She took it, but we all knew she hadn’t given it to him.

  “It took an extra nickel, but Oliver brought it home,” Julian explained as if it were no big deal. I realized I’d seen the payoff the first day of camp. It must have taken Oliver time to snag the list when Abigail wasn’t looking. “How else was I going to contact the campers for Julian’s Giant Adventure Camp?”

  I thought Pru was going to jump off Chica Linda and strangle my cousin.

  “Those are our campers,” she told Julian, her voice gritty with anger.

  “Not anymore,” Julian said with a chuckle. “The kids have spoken—and they’re saying your camp is, well, a bit dull. So I decided to host my own better camp.” I realized that he’d been planning this since the day he’d come to town. Boxcar Bonnie would’ve told me the clues were there all along. She’s such a great detective. It just took me all this time to realize that Julian never intended to pay us two dollars. He’d said he had a job plan the moment I told him there were no openings in town. He’d meant he’d be taking our job.

  He’d said he’d pay us, then paid Oliver instead, knowing that without talking, Oliver—the chattiest kid on the planet—would have a terrible time. That meant he’d never have to pay us. He’d paid Oliver to ruin camp for the others and then paid him to steal our sign-up sheet.

  He’d used his brother to convince the other kids to switch camps.

  This was Julian at his worst. He’d conned us all! And still, here the kids thought he was just more fun, and they liked that.

  “You see, the truth is, no one likes your camp. Your camp doesn’t have enough adventure,” Julian explained. “Mine will be double the danger and double the fun.” He pointed to the rocky outcrop up ahead. “Today’s a free trial day and if they like it, they can come to my camp instead of yours on Monday.”

  “You’re a camper stealer!” I argued.

  “No, I’m a businessman,” Julian said. “You and your friends had a great idea… I just made it better. So don’t be mad, RF. It’s all for the benefit of the kids. And when they all like my camp better, you can just transfer the money the kids already paid you—to me.” He patted that pants pocket of his. Now I knew it was empty. “I’ll take care of the finances from here on.”

  “Imitation is the best form of flattery,” Abigail said halfheartedly.

  Pru grunted at her.

  “Not only did I promise my mom I’d get a job, but with all these campers, and only one counselor”—he pointed to himself—“I can get her a gift with my earnings. There’s this beautiful crystal bubble bath bottle in the general store that I’d like to buy.”

  “No, no, no!” I couldn’t believe he was that cruel. “That’s mine!” I said. He knew about the bubble bath, and he knew that was why I needed to earn enough to buy a new bottle. I was back to yelling. “I’m getting that bottle for Aunt Cora!”

  “It’s not my fault you didn’t succeed.” Julian shrugged innocently. “When you pass the money to me, and the kids have fun, you can brag about how you helped launch my fabulous camp.”

  Every memory I had that made me think Julian was a decent guy disappeared. “You’re awful,” I told him.

  “Awful-ly fun!” he said, encouraging the kids to all laugh at his joke.

  “Oliver?” I looked at my little cousin. “Please don’t turn out like Julian.”

  Oliver grinned happily. “But I want to be just like him,” he said. “My brother’s going to have the best camp in all of Miradero.”

  I threw up my hands. It was too late. Oliver was a mini-Julian!

  The group moved forward, leaving me, Pru, and Abigail behind.

  What were we going to do?

  Pru stepped up. “We have to stop them from going to the rocky outcrop. Not only is Julian a camper-napper, but it’s too dangerous.”

  The battle had begun. This was war. I galloped on Spirit until I was side by side with my cousin. I climbed off Spirit and stepped close, nose to nose with Julian.

  “Are you up for a challenge?” I asked, repeating the way he’d asked me earlier.

  “Possibly.” Julian stopped and turned, intrigued. “What do you have in mind?”

  I said, “We’ll have PALs Adventure Camp in the morning on Monday with the O-Mok-See, and you could have your Julian camp in the afternoon, after lunch.”

  “And the kids will vote?” Julian asked, getting into the idea.


  “Yes,” I agreed. “Whoever has the best day at camp will win the campers, their payment, and the right to buy the crystal bottle. It’s an all-or-nothing contest.”

  “Done,” he said.

  “Fine,” I agreed.

  We shook hands.

  Pru and Abigail couldn’t believe what happened, but I figure I saved the day. Just as Pru wanted—no one was going to the forbidden rocky outcrop. At least not that very minute.

  Of course, now we have a new challenge. We have to work hard to win the campers over, have fun, and convince Oliver that his brother is nobody’s hero.

  Our old camp is not going to be enough. We have to throw out everything we’ve done and start fresh. New games. New prizes. New ideas.

  It’ll be difficult, but the PALs are going to throw the best O-Mok-See that Miradero has ever seen.

  Did you know the word O-Mok-See is from a Native American tradition where warriors would dance before going out to battle?” Abigail was explaining to the campers what we would be doing that day. “The warriors would get all dressed up.” She pointed to a basket of hats and costumes the girls had collected.

  “And they’d paint their horses.” Pru demonstrated by using chalk paint to draw a lightning bolt on Chica Linda.

  Lucky added to the story. “The warriors would carry shields and spears.”

  “Can we have spears?” Lester asked.

  “Uh, maybe paper ones…” Pru said.

  “Boring.” Oliver yawned. He was clearly still trying to help Julian turn the campers against the PALs.

  “I don’t think that spears and dancing mix well. In fact, that sounds very unsafe to me,” Stella protested.

  “I have to agree,” Pru said, looking at Bianca and Mary Pat, who were already pretending to stab each other and staging dramatic deaths.

  “Oh, you got me good,” Bianca moaned, flopping to the ground.

  “You got me, too.” Mary Pat crashed on top of her sister.

  Bianca raised her head. “Save us, Snips.…”

  “No thanks.” Snips turned away. He asked Abigail, “Can I paint Señor Carrots so he’s ready for the battle?”

  “Of course,” Abigail said. “All the horses will get symbols before we ride.”

  “Cool,” Snips said. “I’m going to paint carrots on the señor.”

  Bianca and Mary Pat sat up. “That’s silly,” Mary Pat said.

  “But adorable,” Bianca said.

  Snips groaned.

  “Okay, campers,” Lucky said. “We are going to get ready for the O-Mok-See, and then we will compete!”

  There wasn’t a lot of time to get everything done before Julian got his turn, so the kids hurried to get costumes and to paint.

  “We should have spears,” Oliver muttered as he passed Lucky. “Sharp, pointy ones.”

  “I’d like to spear him,” Pru said. “Right in his complaining—”

  “You can’t spear the children,” Abigail said matter-of-factly, then noticed that the kids who were supposed to be painting Boomerang were actually throwing the chalky paint at one another. She looked at Pru and Lucky. “Do either of you have a spear?”

  Lucky laughed.

  The girls went to where some campers were picking out costumes.

  Turo helped Lester tie a bandana around his neck. “There,” he said, admiring his work. “You look like a fine cowboy.”

  Lester tore off the bandana. “I’m supposed to be a pirate, not a cowboy.”

  “Be whatever you want,” Turo said, giving up.

  “I’m going to dress as Stella, cousin of Maricela of Miradero,” Stella announced proudly, refusing even to look through the costumes.

  “You sure you don’t want this bonnet?” Pru said, holding up a frilly pink hat with lace strings that belonged to her grandmother. “It’s pretty.”

  “No thank you,” Stella said, but then when Lilly started looking at it, she changed her mind, put it on, and smiled. “I’d like to wear it, actually.”

  Lilly took a fur trader’s hat instead.

  Snips smeared mud on his face and arms and said, “I’ll be a pig. Surely there were pigs at the warrior parties.”

  “Maybe for dinner,” Pru whispered to Lucky, who giggled.

  “That costume suits you, Snips,” Abigail told her brother. “You did eat five eggs for breakfast.” She’d been late downstairs, and he’d eaten both his breakfast and hers!

  “Oink,” Snips replied sassily.

  They moved on to painting the horses.

  Spirit was very patient as several kids decorated him with handprints and lightning bolts and words like Good Luck and Fly Fast.

  “Who drew a bunch of carrots on Spirit?” Lucky asked, looking straight at Snips.

  “Uh, I don’t know.” Snips turned away, digging the toe of his shoe in the dirt and whistling, before bursting into a giggle fit and running away. He made sure Señor Carrots was always front and center.

  Everyone was having a good time—except Oliver, of course—but was it enough to make them stay in the PALs’ camp?

  Aunt Cora came by, obviously unaware of the trouble her nephews were causing, with a tray of horse-shaped cookies.

  “Let’s take a break!” Lucky told the campers, who were now in costumes and covered with paint. It looked as if there was more paint on the kids than any of the horses. They all left their horses behind to gather around for cookies.

  “Thanks, Aunt Cora,” Lucky said, picking a cookie that looked a lot like Spirit. She took a bite and muttered through crumbs, “Mmm. Delicious.”

  “You can thank Julian for the idea,” Aunt Cora said. “He thought you all would like a snack.”

  “Julian?” Pru asked, nearly choking on a bite of Chica Linda–looking cookie.

  “He’s so thoughtful,” Abigail said, but then corrected, “I mean, he’s thinking all right, but what’s he thinking about?” She put a finger against her temple. “It boggles the mind.”

  Lucky swallowed hard. It felt as if the cookie were suddenly caught in her throat. “What is he up to?” she asked herself. Then to Aunt Cora, she asked, “Where is Julian? I’d love to thank him for his role in this delightful idea.”

  “He was here a moment ago.” Cora lowered the tray so Snips could get a second cookie. Holding the tray steady, she looked over her shoulder. Julian wasn’t there. She glanced over her other shoulder, then turned completely around. “I don’t know. I suppose it’s possible he went to get the children drinks to go with the cookies.”

  “I am thirsty,” Abigail said.

  “That would be nice of him,” Lucky agreed, “but there’s no way.” She was fully convinced he was up to something. But what?!

  They had only another hour before the campers went to Julian’s Con Boy Camp, so Lucky said, “Thank you so much, Aunt Cora, for the treats.” Then she announced to the campers, “Time to ride!” There were several events in a traditional O-Mok-See, and they were determined to do as many as possible before lunch. “Let’s go!”

  She really hoped that Oliver would get involved. But so far, it wasn’t looking good.

  Speaking of Oliver…

  Lucky asked Pru and Abigail, “Have you seen Julian Junior?” She was kidding, but it turned out to be a nickname that fit!

  While they’d been having cookies with Cora, Julian and Oliver had been working on their own project. The two appeared around the corner of the barn with sneaky grins on their faces, leading the horses behind them.

  “I cleaned the horses for you,” Julian said, as if that were a good thing. He indicated Spirit. “That one refused to be washed, but the others enjoyed it very much.”

  The way he said it made Lucky wonder if Oliver had actually helped him, or if this betrayal was all Julian’s doing. All the horses looked just like they had at the beginning of the day. None of them had any festive paint on them anymore. She felt as if her blood might boil right out of her skin.

  “It’s not the horses’ fault. Boomerang l
oves a bath when it’s not lavender-y,” Abigail said. “Julian tricked us.”

  Lucky, with Pru and Abigail on her heels, marched up to where Julian was putting away the bucket and brushes.

  “You had Aunt Cora bring cookies so you could distract us,” Lucky accused him.

  “Is that anyway to thank me?” Julian replied. “I had Aunt Cora bring the kids some delicious treats and I washed the horses.” He set down the bucket. His shirt was all wet. “You’re welcome.”

  “You knew the horses were painted for the O-Mok-See!” Pru poked Julian in the chest with a finger. “You’re trying to ruin everything so your camp is more fun.”

  “No,” Julian countered. “My camp will be more fun because going to Dusty Dan’s grave will be much more of an adventure than riding around a few barrels on a painted”—he paused—“on a nice clean horse.”

  “Ugh!” Lucky was exasperated. “You’re hopeless.” She looked at Oliver, who wasn’t wet, but who was laughing. “And you, too.”

  “Am not,” Oliver said, then stuck out his tongue.

  Lucky wished Aunt Cora had seen that! Maybe then she’d realize the truth about Julian and Oliver.

  “Forget about them,” Pru said, pulling back Lucky. “Let’s get the horses painted up—even a little bit of color would be good—and start the activities. We’re running out of time.”

  Lucky huffed. “Fine.” She gave a deep stare at her cousins. “But don’t interfere. I promised you could take the campers this afternoon, but the deal is off if you mess with our plans again.” She turned to Oliver. “And until lunch, you’re still my camper.” She reached out her hand. “You will participate, and you will like it.”

  “I promise I won’t like it,” Oliver said, but he still took her hand.

  “We’ll see.” Lucky whistled for Spirit. He came running and followed her into the riding ring.

  Diary Entry

  I knew that one hour of O-Mok-See wasn’t going to be enough. There were just so many amazing things that we could do, like riding and games and snacks.… It was frustrating to try to fit in everything we’d planned. We had narrowed the activities down to thirteen great ideas, but had to focus on just a few, because the campers lost time making new warrior designs on the horses. Pru and Abigail and I decided we’d ride along, but wouldn’t be timed. This event was for the campers.