Show Judge

by Bonnie Bryant

  Carole was trying to be subtle about her eavesdropping, so she made herself useful by putting the cavalletti back up.

  “I know,” Jasmine said, obviously discouraged. “I can’t make up my mind if he should be going slower or faster.”

  Lisa, who had already explained this several times, could feel her patience slipping. “Jasmine, I told you, it’s not a matter of slower or faster, it’s about the size of the step you’re asking him to take.” I have to think of another way of describing what Jasmine needs to do, but how? Her eyes fell on Carole. “Look, sit up straight, shoulders back, chin up, heels down. Good. Now get Outlaw collected, and I’ll be right back.”

  Lisa hurried over to Carole and began helping to reset the poles. “I can’t seem to explain to Jasmine what she’s doing wrong,” she whispered urgently. “What can I say to her that will help?”

  This was the moment Carole had dreaded. She was going to have to choose between being an impartial judge and being a supportive friend. She straightened up and looked Lisa square in the eyes. “I can’t tell you that,” she said firmly.

  “What? Why not?” Lisa looked genuinely puzzled.

  “Because it would be unfair to the other teams.” Her friend’s hurt expression made her feel terrible. Look, Lisa.” She reached out to touch her shoulder. “This isn’t like after the Horse Wise meeting. I’m not here to give advice. My job now is to see how you handle situations like this.” She gestured toward Jasmine and Outlaw.

  Lisa began to protest. “But Carole, you’ve always helped—”

  Carole cut her off. “That was Carole your friend. Right now, I’m Carole the judge. We should both keep that in mind.” Just then she spotted May at the far end of the ring. She and Macaroni were also working over cavalletti, and, as usual, Veronica was nowhere in sight. “I’m sorry, Lisa, I have to go.”

  Lisa watched Carole’s retreating back with a mixture of hurt and anger. She was obviously going off to help May—why wasn’t that against her precious rules? Apparently now that she was a show judge, she didn’t have time to help her old friends, only impress new ones.

  Lisa returned to Jasmine and Outlaw, determined to solve this problem without Carole’s help. That would show her.

  “What did Carole say?” Jasmine asked.

  Lisa thought quickly. “That she has every confidence in you and Outlaw mastering this technique.”

  “She does?” Jasmine said, obviously encouraged.

  “Of course, and so do I.” Lisa assured her. Even as she talked, her mind was racing furiously, trying to think of any training techniques from all the books she had read that might be useful in this situation. Then it came to her. “You know, Jasmine, Outlaw is looking a little frustrated,” she said, patting his neck. “He was doing so well at the walk, I may have rushed it asking him to try it at the trot so soon. That’s a lot to learn in one day.”

  Jasmine looked a little disappointed. “Do other ponies learn both in one lesson?”

  Lisa tried to sound very casual. She wanted to take the pressure off both the pony and the rider. “Oh, there may be a few, but not many. Anyway, we’re in no big rush. For Outlaw’s sake, let’s go back to cavalletti at the walk a few more times, then maybe I could saddle up Prancer and we could take a trail ride and talk about what we want to do in the next couple of weeks.”

  Jasmine brightened at the suggestion. “I think that’s a good idea.” The little girl smiled and patted her mount. “For Outlaw’s sake.”

  Lisa smiled back.

  STEVIE WAS FUMING. Mrs. Reg had reluctantly let her use the phone, but only for one short minute. She’d managed to get Chad on the line, but with Mrs. Reg nearby she’d been unable to bawl him out satisfactorily. He, on the other hand, with no one listening, had started yelling at her. As if this were her fault!

  She had come out of the office looking for someone to air her grievances to when her eyes had fallen on Lisa and Carole. The two of them were in the outside ring, apparently deep in conversation. Carole was obviously passing on some great tip to help Lisa with her Pony Partner’s schooling. Even as she had watched, Carole gave Lisa an encouraging pat on the shoulder before she left. Stevie felt a pang of jealousy. Leave it to Lisa to appeal to Carole’s soft heart, she thought sullenly.

  “Stevie?” Corey approached from behind. “I rode Samurai over the cavalletti at least ten times clean, then all of a sudden he started knocking them over. Can you come and tell me what I’m doing wrong?”

  Stevie began to walk back to the indoor ring with her. “If he’s already done it that many times right, then he’s probably getting bored. Most likely we need to give him something harder or new to work on.”

  As the two of them passed by the gate to the outdoor ring, they met up with Lisa. “Have you got a minute, Stevie?” Lisa asked. “I need to talk to you about something.”

  Frustrated with her brothers and feeling resentful toward Lisa for taking advantage of Carole, Stevie failed to notice that her friend was genuinely upset. “Sorry, Lisa, can’t do it right now,” she said, breezing past her. “Why don’t you ask Carole? I’m sure she’d be happy to help you out. Again.” With that, she continued on her way.

  CAROLE WORKED WITH May for fifteen minutes or so, during which she discovered that Veronica had gone for a trail ride. Instead of being resentful about it, as she had every right to be, May seemed quite pleased. Apparently Veronica had put things in such a way that the little girl actually believed being left alone to school herself was a vote of confidence. Carole bit her tongue, took notes, and offered encouragement where she could.

  When she had finished with May, she continued her rounds until she was satisfied she had visited every pair who had been working that morning. She had written down numerous observations in her book, intending to sort through them later.

  Thinking of the notes reminded her about the evening before and her suspicion that someone had been going through her folder. If someone really had seen what she’d written, what good would it do them? Carole knew she couldn’t change what had already happened, but she also knew she could take steps to make sure it would never happen again. From now until the judging was over, she would never leave the folder out of her sight.

  STEVIE WALKED HOME in a bad mood. She couldn’t remember the last time she had left Pine Hollow feeling this low. Usually life didn’t get any better than spending a day in the company of friends and horses. Today, after winding up Corey’s lesson, she had bolted for the door.

  Irritably scuffing a stone from the path, she thought about Carole and Lisa. The two of them had been thick as thieves all day, and it seemed that Lisa had constantly been running to Carole for advice. Now that she thought about it, Stevie wasn’t at all sure it was because Lisa had actually needed the advice. Maybe she was trying to score points with Carole. Of course, Carole would be loving the attention; she was only human. No doubt Lisa would have some gold stars by her name that day in Carole’s little notebook.

  Stevie stopped, put her hands on her hips, and glared back the way she had come. That was another thing! She had worked really hard trying to get Corey ready for the show. They had made some good progress, but it seemed that every time something had gone wrong, she’d turned around to find Carole scribbling in that stupid book of hers. It just wasn’t fair! The whole thing had irritated her so much that she’d decided she’d rather not have ice cream with Carole and Lisa as usual, so she’d slipped away without telling them she was leaving.

  As she stumped along, her mind turned to a more urgent problem: her parents’ anniversary present. With less than two weeks to the big day, she and her brothers were nowhere near to coming up with the perfect present. This morning she had bounded out of bed, relieved to know the problem had been solved; this afternoon they were right back where they had started. She wanted to scream!

  “NO, JASMINE, YOU’RE not pulling it tight enough!”

  For the better part of an hour, Lisa had been patiently trying to teach the gi
rl how to braid her pony’s mane. “If you don’t get the base tight, it’s going to fall on the wrong side.”

  “But it’s so hard,” Jasmine complained for the umpteenth time. “Why can’t we let it fall on the side it wants to?”

  “I told you, it’s traditional for the braids to be on the off side of the horse’s neck, the opposite side you mount on, even if Outlaw’s mane naturally flops to the other side.” Lisa could understand Jasmine’s frustration. Outlaw’s thick, bushy mane wasn’t making the job any easier. “Try using a little more setting gel and water,” she suggested.

  “Can’t we start with his tail?” Jasmine asked hopefully. “That doesn’t have to fall in any direction but down, right?”

  “There’s no point in learning how to do the tail if you can’t do the mane,” Lisa said.

  “Why not?” Jasmine asked as she continued to struggle with a braid.

  “Because you can ride Outlaw in a show with just his mane braided, or you can ride him with his mane and tail braided, but you can’t show your horse with only the tail braided.”

  “Why not?” Jasmine demanded again.

  “It’s tradition!” Lisa snapped. She looked despairingly at the messy tangle of braids decorating Outlaw’s neck. He bore more of a resemblance to Medusa than to a show pony. The idea of giving up on this particular aspect of Jasmine’s training tempted Lisa. It certainly wasn’t required. However, a braided mane and tail were the final touch to a formal turnout for a hunter, and she was determined that her charges were going to look their absolute best at the Horse Wise rally. Even if it killed all three of them!

  CAROLE PULLED THE heavy black curtain more tightly around her and stared out through a tiny opening in the folds at the locker area, waiting for someone to take the bait. The more she had thought about someone invading her private things, the more it had made her angry. The angrier she got, the less she had been able to think about anything else. It had even interfered with her judging duties, because every time she walked up to a student, part of her mind wondered, Are you the one?

  Realizing she wasn’t going to be able to concentrate until she solved this mystery, she had resolved to set a trap. Late in the afternoon, while many of the riders were winding down their lessons, she went around to say her good-byes. As she did she made sure to mention that she was leaving and that she was so tired she would forget her head if it wasn’t attached. It was her hope that the person who had looked at her notes last time might try it again. Leaving the notebook on the bench in plain sight, she had hidden herself behind the curtain and was waiting to catch them red-handed.

  Unfortunately, that had been some time ago, and the few riders who had come and gone had all failed to even notice the bait, let alone take it. She was almost ready to give up when she heard someone else enter the locker room. Holding her breath, she tried to be as quiet as possible, ready to jump out and confront the cheater. Within moments, however, it became apparent that whoever it was had gotten what they were looking for and left. Her judging folder remained undisturbed where she had left it, out in plain, tempting sight.

  With a sigh, Carole decided to call it quits for the night. She collected her folder and switched off the light, refusing to be discouraged. Sooner or later the culprit would make a mistake, and when they did she would be there to catch them!

  AT FIRST STEVIE had intended to head straight home, but it dawned on her that as soon as she arrived she would have to confront her brothers, and she didn’t feel up to that. Instead she let her feet carry her in any old direction. After a while she looked up and was startled to find herself standing practically in front of TD’s.

  It must have been force of habit, she thought. Worried that Lisa and Carole would show up at any minute, she was preparing to beat a hasty retreat when she spotted Veronica diAngelo coming out of the shop, licking delicately at an ice cream cone. An idea occurred to her. Normally she had no use for the snotty girl, but today might be different. There wasn’t much that Veronica could do right, but even Stevie had to admit that she had a talent for one thing: shopping.

  “Hi, Veronica,” Stevie greeted her in the friendliest voice she could muster. “What a great piece of luck. You’re just the person I’ve been looking for.”

  “That’s more than I can say about you,” Veronica replied, looking at her suspiciously. “What do you want?”

  “Actually, I could use some advice,” Stevie admitted reluctantly.

  “Cut your hair, tuck in your shirt, and drop those two losers you hang with,” Veronica said.

  Under normal circumstances that would have been the end of any civil conversation between the two of them, but Stevie was desperate. “Ha, ha. Good one.” She forced herself to chuckle. “I’m serious, though.”

  “Not dressed like that you’re not,” Veronica snorted.

  Stevie bit her lip with annoyance. “My brothers and I need to get an anniversary present for our parents, and I thought you might have some ideas. Can I ask what you got your mom and dad for their last anniversary?”

  “You can ask,” Veronica replied.

  “Oh come on, it’s not like it’s a state secret or something,” Stevie coaxed.

  “If you must know, I bought them a digital camera.”

  Stevie almost groaned out loud.

  A white Mercedes drove into the parking lot and pulled up to the curb next to them. Veronica waited for the chauffeur to get out and open the door for her. “Chilton, you’re late, I actually had to wait! And I had to talk to her,” she complained, nodding toward Stevie. She slid inside and the driver shut the door. The smoked glass window descended noiselessly. “You know, Lake, if I were your parents, the thing I’d love most about you would be your absence. Why don’t you and your brothers run away with the circus? I’m sure that would make them happy.”

  Before Stevie could think of an answer, the window slid closed and the car pulled away.

  If she had been in a bad mood before, it was nothing compared to the one she was in now. Betrayed by her friends, hindered by her brothers, and now bested by Veronica diAngelo! She had the sudden urge to go home and hide in bed for the rest of the day.

  When she reached her house, the level of noise that greeted her was earsplitting. Her brothers were in the middle of a huge argument.

  “You are so stupid I can’t even believe it!” Alex screamed at Chad.

  “This from the moron who wants me to get him tickets to a Death Drop concert?” Chad spat back.

  “At least I’m trying to use my head.”

  “For what? A doorstop?”

  Stevie dropped her things and tried to get between them. “You guys, cut it out!”

  Chad pushed her aside. “Butt out, Stevie! He’s been asking for this all day!”

  “Me?” yelled Alex, clearly outraged. He turned to Stevie. “Ever since you called here this morning he’s been a total jerk. He even made Michael cry!”

  “Well, if Stevie hadn’t bitten my head off over the camera thing …,” Chad responded heatedly.

  Stevie couldn’t believe her ears. Somehow it was all her fault? “Hey, wait a minute. If you hadn’t suggested the camera, we might have thought of something else by now!”

  “Oh great, blame it all on me!” Chad bellowed at the top of his lungs.

  “I do!” shouted Alex.

  Stevie stepped back and put her hands over her ears. She couldn’t take much more of this. “Shut up!” she hollered over the bedlam. “Will you two shut up for one second! Mom and Dad will be home any minute and we can’t let them see us like this.”

  Her words seemed to reach the two boys, because they fell into an angry silence and settled for merely glaring at each other instead. Stevie seized the moment to beat a retreat, grabbing her stuff and heading to her room. “You know,” she yelled at them from her doorway, “Veronica diAngelo was right. Things would be a lot better around here if you guys would run away and leave the rest of us in peace!” She slammed the door with all her might.
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  The tears started even before she could reach her bed. She flung herself down and muffled her sobs in her pillow, kicking her feet and pounding her mattress in rage.

  Eventually, after the worst of it was over, she reached for her stuffed blue dog, Wubbie, burying her tearstained cheeks in its soft fur. As she reached for a tissue to blow her nose, her eyes fell on the telephone.

  Almost every time in Stevie’s life when she was badly upset, her Saddle Club friends somehow sensed it and came to her rescue. She watched the phone expectantly. Nothing happened. She looked at Wubbie. “Should I?” she asked him. His soulful face was sympathetic but noncommittal. Stevie reached for the phone.

  She tried Carole’s house first. She was disappointed when she got no answer but a little relieved that Colonel Hanson hadn’t picked up, either. Stevie loved Carole’s dad, and they both shared a passion for bad jokes, but today she wasn’t feeling very funny. Next she tried Lisa’s house. Again there was no answer. She put down the phone and leaned back against her pillow. She could picture her two friends down at TD’s, laughing and chatting. They didn’t even invite me, she thought resentfully, conveniently forgetting that she had snuck out of Pine Hollow in order to avoid just that.

  Feeling very sorry for herself, she rolled over on her side and snuggled Wubbie even closer.

  WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON, STEVIE found herself in the unusual circumstance of walking home from the bus stop with her brothers. Since the big blowup on Sunday, the four of them had managed to reach a truce, and now they were all racking their brains over the elusive anniversary present idea.

  For her part Stevie was glad she had a problem to focus on: It took her mind off the previous day’s riding class. Tuesday sessions were for the more advanced riders, so the under-twelve Pony Partners had been absent, but they hadn’t been the only thing missing that day. Gone also was The Saddle Club camaraderie. It seemed to her that she, Lisa, and Carole had all gone out of their way to avoid being together. Every time she had made an effort to chat with them, they had both made it clear they weren’t interested. Carole had been completely distracted, and Lisa was cool and distant, barely making eye contact. That had hurt. Now she forced herself to focus on the problem at hand. “Alex, remember in the pizza parlor you mentioned a This Is Your Life kind of party?”