Clearwater Bay 1- Flying Changes

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Clearwater Bay 1- Flying Changes Page 20

by Kate Lattey


  I’m drowning in a sea of incompetence as I try to work my way through the thick crowd of ponies around the gate. Suddenly a hand reaches up and pats Finn’s neck, and I look down to see Abby walking alongside me, rubbing Finn behind her ears.

  “Tell me you didn’t see that,” I beg her, unsure if I’ve ever been this embarrassed before in my entire life. Abby just smiles at me.

  “Don’t feel too bad about it. She’s got a nice jump in her, you’re just not used to each other yet.”

  To my horror, tears start to well up in my eyes. If I blink, they’ll run down my face and Abby will see them, so I quickly avert my head and clench my jaw.

  “Can I give you some advice?” Abby asks.

  I turn back to her and nod, surprised that she would offer to help someone she barely knows.

  “You’re over-riding her into the fences. You need to sit still, find a rhythm and let her do her job. Take her over to the practice jump and I’ll give you a couple of pointers.”

  I do as she tells me, cantering Finn in circles as she instructs me to keep my hands still and low, to flex my fingers rather than taking a hold on the reins, and to bring my shoulders back. After a few circles on each rein, Finn isn’t pulling so hard, and Abby tells me to try a jump. I turn Finn to the practice fence, she grabs at the reins and rushes in. I try to keep my hands quiet, but she goes too fast and takes off way in front of the jump, totally disregarding me again. Dispirited, I trot her back to Abby, whose eyes are twinkling with amusement.

  “Man, she’s got scope!” she tells me with a grin. “But she’s still going way too fast. Try it again, and don’t even think about the jump. Let her worry about that. Just focus on keeping the canter smooth and steady. Count out loud if it helps. One – two – three…”

  I canter Finn in a circle until she is going steadily again, then extend the circle to include the jump, but try to pretend it’s not there. Sitting still in the saddle, keeping my shoulders back and hands low, I hear Abby calling to me.

  “Just let her take you to the fence. She’ll find her spot, you just worry about keeping the canter. One two three…” she counts.

  Finn eyes up the jump and tries to rush, but I do as Abby tells me and check her gently with the reins, sit up tall and try to focus on the canter stride rather than the jump, listening to Abby’s voice counting. Finn stays steadier, jumps from a nice spot and clears the jump again easily. I pull her up with a smile and Abby grins back at me.

  “That was better. Still a bit quick, but your control will get better as you do more flat work.” She smiles at me. “No-one likes to hear it, but the secret to good jumping is lots of flat work. Then lots and lots of pole work. Are you competing tomorrow?” I nod and she claps Finn on the neck. “Good luck then. Just focus on the canter and the jumps will take care of themselves. Come find me tomorrow and let me know how you get on,” she adds, and I assure her that I will, feeling as though I’ve found a real friend.

  The rest of the day passes without incident, as we watch Alec place third in a metre-fifteen class on Lucky, and Steph and Abby compete in a metre-forty. It’s almost a repeat of earlier as Steph sets the pace, nobody else comes close to touching her until Abby beats her jump-off time, only to have Steph return on her next horse and beat her friend again. It must be frustrating, I tell Tegan, to keep getting beaten by your best friend. She tells me to get used to the idea, because Nugget is going to kick Finn’s butt all season. In her dreams.

  Evening rolls around and we settle the ponies into yards for the night. Lugging covers, feeds and water buckets back and forth takes almost an hour. Exhausted, I drape myself over the rail of Finn’s yard once we are finally finished. My pony eyeballs me suspiciously as she gobbles down her feed. Her chestnut mane is standing up on end, and she looks so beautiful that I can’t quite believe she’s really mine. I imagine a red ribbon around her neck, bright against her copper coat, and I can see myself in the saddle, leading a victory lap around the ring, everyone talking about the amazing control I’d shown, and the daringly tight turns we’d made to win the class.

  “Hey, is that Pushbutton’s pony?” Alec asks, breaking into my daydream.

  I glance up. “What? Where?” I look where Alec is pointing and choke out a laugh. “How on earth can you tell?”

  The pony is covered from head to toe. Two covers, a neckrug, hood, leg bandages, tail bag, the works.

  “I’m sure it is. Who else?” We walk over to the pony and have our suspicions confirmed when we see Natalie’s name on the tag attached to his halter.

  I shrug. “I guess she’s scared he’s going to get dirty.”

  Alec rolls his eyes. “Yeah, cause it’s not like dirt comes off or anything. It’s not just stupid, it’s mean. That pony must be so hot under all those rugs,” Alec mutters angrily. “Poor thing has to suffer for his owner’s stupid vanity.”

  Back at the truck, we pack all our gear away and go to meet Alec’s friends, spending the rest of the evening hanging out with them in Claudia’s truck, playing cards and discussing each other’s ponies. I’m enjoying myself as I lean back in the folding chair, staring out of the window at the moon hanging overhead and wondering idly where everyone’s parents are. Perhaps they’re all as laid-back as Tabby, not much caring what we’re getting up to, trusting us to be sensible. Tegan’s mum sure doesn’t trust her daughter, but probably with good reason. She dragged Tegan off to their motel room hours ago, despite her daughter’s protestations.

  Midnight rolls around and I decide to call it a night. Back in our truck, I change into shorts and a t-shirt and crawl into the top bunk, snuggling down into a thick sleeping bag. Alec comes in about ten minutes later and starts rifling through the cupboards under the sink. I prop myself on my elbow and stare down at him.

  “Whatcha doing?”

  He looks up with a mischievous grin. “You’ll see, if I can find…aha!”

  I shimmy out of bed to see what it is he’s holding in his hand. “Is that spray paint?”

  “Spray-on hair dye. Left over from the Christmas Classic last year. We used it on the ponies, it washes right out.” He rattles two cans, one red and one green.

  I raise an eyebrow. “How festive. But it’s not Christmas for another eight months.”

  Alec grins. “Ah, but I have a plan. Let’s go.”

  “Now? It’s pitch black out there.”

  “That’s why God invented torches,” Alec replies.

  I hesitate for a moment, then swing out of the bunk with a grin.

  After finding my wellies and pulling on a thick coat of Tabby’s, I follow Alec through the heavy dew down to the horse yards. The torchlight is feeble and I stumble a few times on the uneven ground. The night air is crisp and cool, and the moon slips out from behind a cloud, outlining the ponies standing around in their yards, munching on hay and dozing quietly. Just as I manage to make out Finn’s shadow up ahead, I walk straight into Alec, who has stopped abruptly in front of me and is looking around.

  “Our ponies are over there,” I tell him but he ducks under the rail into the yard we’re standing next to. Confused, I turn to see a pony wearing several rugs and a hood. “No way.”

  Alec turns the torch up under his chin and pulls a face. “Yes way. Come on, it’ll be awesome. Think of the look on her face!”

  I can’t resist, so I duck under the rail and slip the halter onto Spider’s head, patting him as he breathes down my back. “There’s a good boy.”

  Alec has the rugs off quickly, and shakes the spray can. The ball bearing inside rattles, and Spider shies away.

  “Easy mate,” Alec tells him. “Hold him still Jay.”

  He holds his torch between his teeth and starts to spray paint onto the gelding’s coat. Spider shivers as he feels it on his skin and spins around, and Alec tells me to shove him up against the fence. I manoeuvre Spider into a corner and hold him firm, patting him and talking to him, and he settles down. Alec moves fast and in the dim light I can’t see what he�
��s doing, but he seems to be enjoying himself, chuckling every now and then. He gets me to turn Spider around while he does the other side. Finally, Alec pulls off his tailbag and give him a streaked red and green tail, before piling all his rugs back on and with a final pat, we slip out of his yard and run back to the truck.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Alec wakes me early the next morning, and I scramble out of bed and into yesterday’s jeans. Tabby is still snoring in the bottom bunk, so we start mixing the ponies’ breakfast feeds, neither of us mentioning last night’s shenanigans. But it’s not long before Tegan comes flying up the truck ramp with a delighted expression.

  “Was it you?”

  I feign innocence. “Was what me?”

  Tegan gives me a look. “You know exactly what I mean. Someone gave Natalie’s pony a paint job last night!”

  Alec frowns. “A paint job? Now who would do a thing like that?”

  Tegan pounces. “It was you! I bet it was! Dude you are going to be in so much trouble with her mum, she’s absolutely spitting!” She’s so excited that she’s literally bouncing up and down on the spot, and I’m struggling to hold back my grin, but Alec’s face is still convincingly deadpan.

  “Come on now, you know I’d never do a thing like that! I know how much time and effort Natalie puts into keeping her pony shiny and clean.” His voice betrays him at the end as he can’t help smiling, and Tegan shrieks with laughter and punches his shoulder.

  “I can’t believe I missed it! I can’t wait until we buy a truck and can sleep on the grounds with everyone else.” She runs away, yelling that she’s “off to spread the word”. Alec and I look at each other.

  “Well it’s not like they wouldn’t have worked it out,” Alec says, shrugging.

  He’s right. We take our feed buckets over to the yards, where we are almost immediately accosted by Natalie.

  “How could you do that? What a stupid, mean thing to do!”

  Alec is back to playing innocent. “What am I meant to have done?”

  “Oh don’t give me that, you know exactly what I’m talking about!” Natalie moves aside to reveal her pony, standing calmly in his yard eating his breakfast. My eyes pop as I see the full extent of Alec’s handiwork. Spider is covered in red and green spirals and spots, and his tail looks amazing. If it was actually Christmas, he would look extremely festive.

  “What makes you think it was me?” Alec is asking calmly and Natalie, livid, spits the words out.

  “Who else would write that?”

  I walk around to the other side of the pony and can’t contain my laughter. Painted across Spider’s right side are the words Push my buttons. Natalie is still swearing at Alec, and Amy has gotten in on the act as well. He’s taking their barrage of insults and calmly protesting his innocence.

  “I suppose you think it’s funny.” I turn to see Sarah glaring at me.

  “I think he looks kinda cool,” I reply.

  “You would. Why’d you do it?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Of course you did,” Sarah insists. “It might have been Alec’s idea but you must have helped him. I thought we were your friends.”

  I’m so shocked by her words that I don’t even think about what I say next. “Oh come on. Natalie’s made it clear from the start that she doesn’t like me. All I’m doing is returning the sentiment.”

  I turn on my heel and walk away. Sarah yells after her. “You’re just jealous because Natalie’s a better rider than you! At least her pony goes over the jumps not through them!”

  I feel my face redden, but force myself to keep walking, having no immediate comeback for that. I’ll show her, I resolve. Finn will go over everything and through nothing today, now that Abby has helped me.

  We’re eating breakfast when someone bashes on the truck’s side door. Tabby groans and rolls over, and I stick my head out the door to see Natalie’s mother glaring up at us.

  “Come down here and explain yourselves!” Alec grins at me and together we go out to face the music, shutting the door behind us so as not to wake the late-sleeping Tabby. Tegan wasn’t exaggerating, the woman is furious.

  “What the hell do you think you’re playing at? You think this is funny? It’s sabotage, that’s what it is, and I’ve just made an official complaint. You’re both going to be eliminated from this competition and I hope that teaches you a lesson!”

  Alec has given up attempting to claim innocence. His expression was blandly amused until her last threat, but now he wakes up.

  “Hey, that’s not fair. It’s a bit of paint, it’s not going to make any difference to how her pony jumps. It’s not like we did anything dangerous, it was just a bit of fun.”

  Fun was probably the wrong word. “Fun? That’s what you call it? That pony has to jump in the Championship today, and now he’s going to be a laughing stock—”

  She’s cut off as the door is flung open, narrowly missing taking Alec’s ear off, and Tabby stands in the doorway, hands on hips in a pink dressing gown with the bunny ears askew on her head.

  “What the bloody hell is going on out here? I’m trying to sleep in and you lot are yelling—” She stops and looks at Natalie’s mum with a frown. “Why are you yelling at my kids?”

  Natalie’s mum looks at Tabby like she’s something she just scraped off her shoe. “Your kids snuck out last night and spray painted my daughter’s pony.”

  “What’s your proof?”

  “For starters, they’ve admitted it,” Natalie’s mum sniffs, and Tabby looks at Alec, who shrugs and nods.

  “The spray paint from under the sink?” she asks, and Alec nods again. Tabby turns back to Natalie’s mum. “It washes out.”

  “That’s hardly the point! It’s sabotage, and I’ve made a formal complaint. They’re being eliminated from the day’s competition. That’ll make them think twice about having a bit of fun!” And with that she turns and stalks down the ramp. Tabby is seething and Alec can’t resist a parting shot.

  “You wouldn’t know a bit of fun if it bit you in the-”

  Before he can finish, Tabby smacks him across the back of the head.

  “Ow! What the hell Mum? Come on, it was just a joke! You know how uptight that lot are.”

  “Of course I do,” Tabby replies. “But that’s no reason to be so bloody rude.”

  “Will we really be eliminated?” I ask, since no-one else seems concerned about this. Alec snorts and Tabby shakes her head.

  “Whatever complaint she’s made won’t hold up,” she assures me. “Jenny Parkinson is the Secretary here and we go way back. Jenny was a right troublemaker herself, back in the day. She’ll probably come by at some stage, give you two a warning, but nothing will come of it. It’s just that stupid woman getting her knickers in a knot.”

  I sigh in relief. Today’s my chance to rectify yesterday’s mistakes. Tabby is still marching around the truck grumpily. “Now where are my gumboots? I better go get a look at this animal before they wash it.”

  “It really is a work of art,” Alec tells her as she tugs her purple wellies on and headed down the ramp. “Seriously. I’m thinking of doing a whole exhibition of painted ponies.”

  “Don’t you bloody dare,” Tabby calls as she marches off across the dewy grass.

  Tegan, Alec and I are all jumping in the 95cm Table C, which is my first speed class on Finn. I tack up nervously and then start working her in. She’s feeling a little calmer than yesterday, thankfully. I’m walking her – or rather trying to convince her to walk instead of jogging – while I wait to be called into the ring, when Abby walks past and waves to me. I ride Finn over to her and she rubs my mare between the eyes.

  “Good luck out there,” she grins.

  “Thanks. I saw you jump yesterday, you were great,” I tell her, then blush at myself.

  “Not bad,” she agrees. “If Steph wasn’t there to kick my butt every time I take him out we’d be doing even better, but hey, whatcha gonna do?” There’s no trace
of bitterness in her voice, just a cheery acceptance of the facts. “I’ll get her someday. I keep telling her I’m just waiting for a moment when it really counts. So how’s this course riding?”

  I shrug. “Okay I think. A couple of people have taken rails.”

  “Is anyone cutting the line from the blue upright to the red and yellow oxer?”

  I look over at the course, trying to see what she means. “Huh? You mean going in front of the rustic?”

  “Yeah. That’d be a good line on a sharp horse. Your pony can turn tight, right?”

  I have no idea. I haven’t really tried, but I don’t want to sound stupid. “Yeah, of course.”

  Abby grins. “Chuck can too. Try that line, I dare you. Just set her up nice and give her heaps of leg off the ground.”

  The steward looks around and calls Finn’s name, and I turn her towards the gate.

  “Good luck!” Abby calls and I smile and call “Thanks” over my shoulder.

  Still buzzing at the attention she’s giving me, and aware of the jealous looks of my fellow competitors, I ride Finn into the ring on a real high. She is excited and tossing her head, but I’ve borrowed a martingale from Alec and she’s much easier to control with her head more restrained. I let her canter her on as I run over the course in my mind. Then the bell rings and Finn rushes at the first fence, getting in a bit close and cat-leaping over. I sit up and collect her, face burning, wondering what Abby must be thinking. We make the turn pretty tight to the green and yellow upright, and I keep my shoulders back and hands still as Abby told me. Finn jumps better over this fence and then Abby slips out of my mind as I concentrate on getting around the course and riding precise, tight lines. Lucky for me Finn is very nimble and easy to steer, and she jumps well off her hocks to clear the next three jumps easily. Because the jumps are coming up more quickly usual, she has less time to get strong and fast between the fences, and I think speed classes could be her forte.

 

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