Stevie

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Stevie Page 4

by Bonnie Bryant


  “Are we ready to start?” Dinah asked her after Betsy and I had met.

  “Mr. Daviet has been sending out teams on snowshoes,” Betsy said.

  They explained that we were all supposed to go out on snowshoes when we first put in the spiles. It sounded like slow going to me, especially since I’d never used snowshoes before. As it turned out, Betsy agreed. When I glanced at her, she had a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

  “Everybody but us has to go out on snowshoes,” she said. “See, I explained to Mr. Daviet about this friend you had visiting, and I told him all about the fact that she was somewhat lame …”

  I caught on right away. I slung one arm over Dinah’s shoulders and pretended to have suddenly developed a limp in my right leg. “What’s the matter with me?” I asked Betsy.

  Betsy giggled. “That’s what Mr. Daviet asked. I had to think fast. The first thing that came into my head was that you’d thrown a shoe, but I knew he wouldn’t fall for that. I just told him you were recovering from surgery. It seemed to sort of cover everything.”

  The point of all this, as it turned out, was that we didn’t have to use snowshoes after all. We got to use a horse-drawn sleigh!

  NOTE OF EXPLANATION: Why this wasn’t really cheating

  It would be easy to look at our behavior and think we were just lying to get ahead of everyone else. But if you think about it, that isn’t really true. You see, we were getting a later start than most of the other teams because of the time my plane got in. Also, everyone on the other teams lived in Vermont. They all knew their way around the woods (on snowshoes or otherwise) and how to work the sap-collecting equipment. I, however, was a visitor from the South, with much less experience with snow and none whatsoever with maple syrup (except on my pancakes). So we were really just evening things out.

  Betsy explained that her sister, Jodi, would be there any minute with the sleigh. Jodi worked at Sugarbush Stables. Dinah told me that Jodi was a really great rider.

  “She’s not all that great,” Betsy interrupted.

  “Well, she’s better than we are,” Dinah said, “and she gets to spend all her time at the stable—”

  “Except for the time she says she’s at the stable, when she’s really with a boyfriend,” Betsy finished for her.

  “And she helps in class and she can ride whenever she wants to and she told me that she’d take me on the Rocky Road Trail one of these days,” Dinah said.

  I could tell even then that Dinah and Betsy were similar in a lot of ways and agreed about most things. The big exception was Betsy’s sister, Jodi. Having several siblings myself, I could sort of see where Betsy was coming from. Maybe to her having an older sister seemed just as unnecessary to a full and satisfactory life as having three annoying brothers did to me.

  I didn’t think too much about that just then, though, because I heard a wonderful sound floating toward us at that moment. It was a sound I had only heard once before—on the Starlight Ride at Pine Hollow on Christmas Eve, when Max rode through the fields in a horse-drawn sleigh. It was the sound of sleigh bells!

  I turned and saw a sleigh coming toward us on the packed snow of the wooded road. A large workhorse was pulling it, and the bells on the reins chimed merrily every time the girl who was driving moved her hands.

  All of a sudden I had the weird but wonderful feeling that I hadn’t just traveled up the East Coast from Virginia to Vermont. No, I had also traveled backward in time a century or two. It was a magical moment, and the only thing that could have made it even more perfect was if Carole and Lisa had been there to share it with me.

  The older girl pulled the sleigh to a stop in front of us, then hopped down and tossed the long reins to Dinah, making the bells ring crazily all at once. “Here, you take the reins,” she said.

  “Me?” Dinah said.

  “Yeah.” That was all the older girl said in reply. Without so much as glancing at Betsy or me, she walked back the way she had come.

  “That was Jodi,” Betsy told me, rolling her eyes a little. “My older sister.”

  “She’s usually friendlier,” Dinah said quickly. “I guess she wasn’t crazy about having to hitch up the sleigh for us. That must be why she hurried off. Anyway, you’ll meet her again while you’re here. I’m sure you’ll like her.”

  “I’m sure I will,” I agreed. But I only said it to be polite. I wasn’t too sure at all—not after the way Jodi had acted.

  But I didn’t think about her for long. We were all eager to get started. Dinah and Betsy started talking about their favorite horses at the stable—the ones they would get to ride all summer long if we won. Dinah’s was named Goldie, and Betsy’s was Mister.

  We went into the Sugar Hut and collected all the equipment we would need—two large hand drills, a bunch of spiles, and an equal number of buckets. The rules of the contest stated that we had to set out every bucket we took with us. For each one we brought back empty, we would have to forfeit a bucket of sap to the other teams. So we were careful to take only as many buckets as we thought we could use. We loaded everything into the sleigh, then climbed aboard.

  Then, finally, we were on our way!

  Betsy drove first. She was sitting between Dinah and me on the long wooden bench-type seat. Actually, she wasn’t sitting so much as standing, with her feet braced against a board at the front edge of the sleigh.

  Driving a sleigh is a very interesting process, full of educational details. For instance, I noticed that Betsy was holding one rein in each hand. When we were ready to start, she flicked the reins so that they slapped the horse’s rump lightly, and at the same time she made a sort of clicking sound with her tongue. At first I could feel every lumbering step the big horse took, because it tugged at the sleigh with each one. But once the horse picked up its pace and the runners started sliding smoothly over the snow, all I felt was an easy, gliding forward motion.

  “Wow,” I said. “Now I really feel like I’ve traveled back in time a few hundred years.”

  “Wait until we get to work,” Betsy said. “You’re going to wish for the twentieth century again!”

  I wasn’t sure exactly what she meant by that, but she and Dinah both seemed to find it awfully funny.

  As we drove, I learned that driving a sleigh is more complicated than it looks in at least one interesting way. When you want to make a tight turn, you have to make sure the horse moves in the opposite direction first. For instance, to make a quick right, you first have to tug on the left rein so that the horse will shift a few steps to the left. Then the sleigh will move way over to the left side of the path, and it can make the turn to the right without pushing its shafts—those are the long wooden pieces that stick out from the sleigh on either side of the horse—into the horse’s body.

  Luckily, Betsy knew exactly how to manage the trick. So we made good time on the snowy, wooded paths.

  I was still having a hard time believing I was really there. The landscape looked as though it had been painted for the front of a greeting card or something. It was really beautiful. As we drove along through the peaceful, snow-blanketed forest, I turned to count the buckets in the back of the sleigh once more. That reminded me of the fraction problems I had waiting for me back in my suitcase. But I knew I would have to worry about that later. Because now we had work to do.

  I don’t like to brag, but I caught on to the tree-tapping process really fast. It didn’t hurt that Betsy and Dinah were such good teachers. They taught me all kinds of interesting things, like how to tell the sugar maples from the other trees (they’re marked with a little maple leaf, which is painted on in the summer when it’s easier to tell the trees apart) and how to decide where to place the spile (it’s usually a good idea to tap right under a big branch, since the tree sends lots of sap to branches that are growing fast).

  We tapped tree after tree, drilling holes, inserting spiles, and hanging buckets. After a while, I started to think we would never finish, that we could never possibly use up all t
he buckets we had brought in the sleigh. I was also starting to understand what Betsy had meant when she said I’d be wishing for a return to the twentieth century!

  We kept at it until it started to get dark. By that time, we still had two buckets left. None of us liked the thought of returning empty buckets, but we knew we had to hurry if we were going to find two more sugar maples. We also realized the trees would have to be easy to find, or we might forget where they were.

  We decided to look on our way back to the Sugar Hut. It was Dinah’s turn to drive.

  “Mr. Daviet thinks it’s important for all of us to learn to drive a horse on a wagon or sleigh,” Dinah told me as she picked up the reins and got started. After a minute or two, she offered to let me try driving for a few minutes. I said yes, of course. It looked like fun, and I had never driven anything except a tiny pony cart back at Pine Hollow.

  It took me a moment to get used to the feel of the long reins. They were much heavier in my hands than normal reins, which made sense—after all, they were more than ten feet long! I quickly realized that they would also be harder on the horse’s mouth than shorter reins, so just a bit of pressure would be enough to signal the horse clearly. It was exciting to drive, even just a few yards, and I was determined to learn more about driving sometime soon. I just love learning!

  Soon I gave the reins back to Dinah, and we continued on our way through the woods. We were all scanning the trees around us, looking for those maple-leaf marks so that we could use our last two buckets.

  “There’s one!” Dinah declared. She pulled the sleigh to a halt.

  “I see it,” Betsy said. In a flash, she was out of the sleigh and hard at work tapping the tree. Then we were off again, keeping a close watch for that one last tree we needed.

  “There must be one, there must be one,” Dinah said, almost chanting.

  My eyes were getting tired of squinting for tiny painted maple leaves, especially in the fading light. But suddenly I spotted what we were looking for. “There it is!” I shouted, pointing to the right.

  They saw it, too. “Let’s get it!” Dinah cried, flicking the reins to send the horse toward the sugar maple.

  I was so busy watching the little mark on the tree trunk—I didn’t want to lose sight of it, not until that last bucket was finally hanging there—that it took me a second to realize what was happening. I didn’t notice that we had a problem until I heard the sound.

  The awful, terrible, terrifying sound.

  It was the sound of the shafts groaning in protest.

  In that split second, I realized what was happening. Dinah was so busy heading for the tree that she had forgotten the rule about sharp turns. The horse was leaning so far into the right-hand shaft that it was on the verge of breaking!

  I realized all that, but I knew I didn’t have time to explain it. Dinah hadn’t noticed a thing, and I had no idea if Betsy was paying attention, either.

  It was all up to me.

  Luckily, I knew what to do. I grabbed the left rein and tugged. From driving before, I knew that that should be all it would take.

  It was. The horse responded instantly, shifting back toward the left. Then he stopped in his tracks.

  “Huh?” Dinah said. I think that’s what she said, anyway. I was too busy being grateful at escaping our close call that I was sort of distracted. I quickly explained why I had done what I’d done.

  “Oh, wow!” Dinah exclaimed. “Your quick and brilliant thinking saved us all!”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I said modestly. Actually, I knew she was right—I had saved us from a lot of trouble. The sleigh could have broken or tipped over, the horse could have been badly hurt.… But that was all behind us now. I didn’t want to rub it in.

  “Yes, you did,” Dinah insisted. “I really almost blew it—just to tap one maple tree. It wasn’t worth it. Definitely.”

  I was really starting to blush by now. Deep down, I’m really a shy and humble person. Well, sort of. “Who says we can’t tap it now?” I asked. I grabbed the equipment from the back of the sleigh and got to work. In a few minutes we were heading back to the Sugar Hut—a little older, and a little wiser.

  FROM: LAtwood

  TO: Steviethegreat

  SUBJECT: Friendly reminder …

  MESSAGE:

  Hi! How’s the report going? Are you still working on the part about your trip to Vermont? Because I just remembered something that happened while you were away and I wanted to remind you in case you forgot about it. It’s Phil’s unmounted Pony Club meeting. Remember? You had promised him you’d go over to Cross County for it, and then you couldn’t reach him before you left for Vermont because he was on that class trip. So you made Carole and me promise to call him for you when he got back.… Well, you probably remember. I don’t know if that’s the kind of thing you want to include in your report, but it does become sort of important later because of what the meeting turned out to be about.

  Anyway, I hope the writing is going well. We missed you at Pine Hollow today, though of course we understood why you couldn’t make it. (At least I understood. But you know Carole. She thinks school is just a place to go between trail rides! Ha ha!) Anyway, Max let me groom our favorite new Pine Hollow resident today, and it was absolutely wonderful. What a sweetie! Let me know when you get to that part of your story. I’ll definitely want to help you all I can!

  Not to totally change the subject, but you missed another exciting episode of The Rich and the Weird at the stable this afternoon. Veronica stopped by, which of course shocked us, since we didn’t have lessons or anything. Anyway, I heard her ordering Red to saddle up Garnet for her. So I figured she just felt like going for a ride. That’s kind of unusual, but no big deal, right? I didn’t think much about it. Then she disappeared toward the tack room, and I figured she was going to hover over Red and give him a hard time while he did her work for her. No surprises there, either. Except a few minutes later I happened to glance out the window of Diablo’s stall, and I saw Veronica rushing down the driveway. Yes, rushing. As in on foot. And her family’s limo was nowhere in sight. Don’t ask me where she was going, but Red was pretty peeved when he came out a minute later with Garnet all saddled and ready. Pretty bizarre, huh? Even for Veronica!

  Anyway, I don’t want to distract you from your paper. I’ll see you tomorrow at lessons, and I’ll be dying to hear all about it. Don’t forget what I told you about keeping things formal and straightforward. Teachers love that. And don’t forget—substance!

  Welcome to My Life …

  Okay, Miss Fenton, we’re going to have a little change in format here. You see, my trip to Vermont soon got so exciting that it was like being swept up in the events of some epic film. You know, like Ben Hur or Star Wars. So I think the best way to get that across is to write it as if it were a film script. I even called my close personal friend, teen movie star Skye Ransom, to help me with the details. I spent over an hour on the phone asking questions about how real Hollywood movie scripts are written. It was a very educational conversation, and I think you’ll find that I learned a lot from it.

  Without further ado, Stevie Lake Productions presents …

  DANGER IN VERMONT!

  An Action-Packed Blockbuster Movie Script by S. Lake

  FADE IN

  INTERIOR Dinah’s bedroom, early morning

  CLOSE-UP on STEVIE, an exceptionally attractive middle-school girl, sleeping peacefully in the spare bed. A stack of schoolbooks sits on the floor nearby, and a history textbook lies open on the pillow next to her, revealing a picture of Paul Revere.

  STEVIE

  (mumbles in her sleep)

  1775 … 1775 … 1775 …

  One if by land, two if by … (snores) …

  The bedroom door opens, and DINAH enters. She is fully dressed and smiling.

  NARRATOR (voice-over)

  Early the next morning …

  DINAH

  (loudly)

  Time to get up!

&
nbsp; STEVIE

  (yawning)

  What’s the hurry? Is it time to go collect the sap?

  Stevie sits up and rubs her eyes.

  DRAMATIC MUSIC

  NARRATOR (voice-over)

  But it wasn’t time to collect sap yet. It was too cold outside. Instead, it was time for Stevie to go with Dinah to her riding class.

  STEVIE

  (bounding out of bed, completely wide

  awake and refreshed at the thought

  of riding)

  Cool! Let’s go!

  Stevie pauses just long enough to carefully place her history book back on the pile with the other schoolbooks.

  STEVIE

  (lovingly)

  I’ll get back to you later, Mr. Revere. After all, you must be the most interesting patriot and silversmith in all of American history!

  FADE TO

  INTERIOR The Slatterys’ front hall. Stevie, Dinah, and MRS. SLATTERY are there.

  DINAH

  Bye, Mom. We’re off to riding class.

  Mrs. Slattery waves one finger warningly as Stevie and Dinah prepare to leave the house.

  MRS. SLATTERY

  (worried)

  Make sure you follow Mr. Daviet’s instructions. Remember, no cantering and no leaving the ring without an experienced rider. And keep your hard hat on, and always take your vitamins, and wait at least an hour before swimming, and …

  DINAH

  (wearily)

  Yes, Mom.

  The two girls EXIT.

  CUT TO

  EXTERIOR The Slatterys’ neighborhood. Dinah and Stevie are walking through the snow toward Sugarbush Stables.

  DINAH

 

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