I did my best to keep a straight face as I nodded. “I bet we could squeeze it in.”
We quickly finished up in Starlight’s stall, then rushed to get our horses ready. We tacked up Pepper and Topside in record time and were soon mounted and riding off across the rolling fields behind Pine Hollow.
I glanced over at Lisa as we rode along at a sedate walk. She looked happier than she had in days. “I really love this horse,” she said, her eyes shining. “He’s just so gentle.”
I glanced at Pepper. At that second, he nodded his big gray head up and down, as if agreeing with Lisa’s words. I couldn’t help smiling at that.
It was a gorgeous day, perfect for riding. After a while, I could tell that Topside was getting a bit bored with walking. At least I was pretty sure he was. And I was very sure that I was. Max had told us not to overwork Pepper, but I didn’t think a short trot would do him any harm. “Want to trot?” I suggested.
“Of course,” Lisa agreed quickly. Soon both horses were trotting, with Pepper seeming to enjoy the exercise every bit as much as Topside did.
We slowed down again when we got to the woods. “That was wonderful,” Lisa said.
I smiled, glad that she sounded so happy. “I think Pepper enjoyed it as much as you did.”
“More,” Lisa said. “And, you know, it turns out that Pepper has been enjoying this kind of thing with lots of people for a long time. Remember that essay I wrote?”
How could I forget? It was all she had talked about for days. But I just nodded. “Didn’t you get an A?”
“Yes, I got an A, but that wasn’t the thing I wanted to tell you about. Ms. Ingleby read it out loud in class. She did it because she liked Pepper. And it turned out that practically every kid in my class had ridden Pepper at one time or another. A lot of them were pretty upset that Pepper is getting old. One girl was even crying.”
I wasn’t surprised that a lot of people felt so strongly about Pepper. He was a pretty special horse. I still loved him myself, even though I hadn’t ridden him in ages.
Lisa wasn’t finished. “Even Ms. Ingleby had ridden Pepper when she was a little girl. That’s why she read my essay. It was kind of neat. It’s like this one horse ties a whole lot of people together. Isn’t that odd? I mean, how many riders have sat in this saddle, on this horse, and enjoyed it as much as I’m enjoying it now?”
I tried to imagine the answer. “Hundreds, I guess,” I said. “It makes it seem all the more as if Pepper has earned his retirement, doesn’t it?”
Lisa smiled. “Too bad we can’t give him a black-tie dinner and a gold watch to take to Florida,” she joked. “But I think he’d be happier with some warm mash anyway.”
I almost didn’t hear what she said next. I had just had one of those ideas—the kind that I knew was destined to be one of those stupendously wonderful, earth-shatteringly fantastic ideas that everyone would remember practically forever. It was so perfect I could hardly keep myself from shouting with joy that I had thought of it.
But I didn’t tell Lisa about it. I knew it would be even better if it was a surprise, to her at least. I would need a little help from a few other people. Max, for one …
I was still thinking about it when I got home that day, trying to figure out how all the details would work. I was humming as I entered the kitchen to scrounge up a snack.
Then I saw my mother sitting at the kitchen table reading a magazine, and I remembered our racetrack plan. I gave Mom a big, loving smile.
“Hi!” I said brightly. “How’s my favorite mother in the whole wide world?”
She lowered the magazine and gazed at me through slightly narrowed eyes. “Suspicious,” she replied. “What do you need? Money? Or is today report card day?”
I laughed. Mom has a terrific sense of humor sometimes. “Very funny,” I said. “Actually, I was thinking about how you and Dad were just saying that we should do more things as a family.”
Mom raised one eyebrow. “Yes?”
I shrugged. “Well, I think it’s a great idea. We should do something together this weekend. Say Saturday afternoon. Of course, the boys wouldn’t have to come,” I added quickly, shuddering at the thought of Chad, Alex, and Michael at the racetrack. They always make fun of everything having to do with horses, mostly because they know it bugs me. That’s how immature they are. “Actually, maybe Lisa could come instead. She’s been kind of depressed lately because Pepper’s retiring. She could use some excitement. So she should definitely come with us.”
Mom was looking slightly confused by now. “Where are we going?”
I smiled. “Why, to the racetrack of course,” I said.
“Hmmm,” she said.
I felt a twinge of nervousness. It’s hard to tell what Mom is thinking when she says “hmmm” like that. Maybe it was time for the direct approach. “So can we go?” I asked. “Please? Carole is going to be there because Judy’s the vet for some of the horses that are running on Saturday and they asked Carole to come along because one of the horses really likes her, not that that’s such a surprise, since every horse ever foaled just adores Carole from the second they meet her, but still, it’s kind of a big deal, so of course Lisa and I don’t want to miss it, and we were talking today about how it would be really cool to surprise Carole by showing up and so I remembered how much fun you and Dad had when you went to the track last summer and you were saying a couple of weeks ago that you should do it again now that racing season is here, and—”
“Stop!” Mom cried, holding up both hands in a position of surrender. “Please, enough already! You’ve convinced me.”
“Really?” I could hardly believe it had been that easy.
She nodded. “On one condition. Well, actually two. First, if your father agrees.”
“And second?”
She let out a mock groan. “If you promise to stop explaining!”
I grinned and pretended to zip my lips shut with my finger. Then I unzipped them just long enough to say, “Thanks, Mom!” before skipping out of the room and heading upstairs.
I was thrilled. I couldn’t wait to go to a real racetrack and see Prancer. Carole had been talking about her so much that Lisa and I felt as though we knew her already. And now we were going to get to watch her run!
But I couldn’t spend too much time thinking about it. I had other things to do. It was time to start working on my other plan—the plan that would make a whole lot of people happy. And somehow, just at that moment, bringing more joy and pleasure to the world seemed more important than anything else—even studying for my math quiz.
FROM: FentonHall
TO: Steviethegreat
SUBJECT: Your assignment
MESSAGE:
Hello, Stephanie,
This is Miss Fenton writing from the school computer. I write to remind you that your extra-credit assignment is due exactly one week from today. I trust you are already hard at work and that this message is completely unnecessary. However, I know that your life is full of many distractions, so I thought it prudent to send you this friendly reminder. I expect to see your completed report on my desk bright and early next Monday morning.
Happy writing!
Welcome to My Life …
While I was making my plans and Lisa was continuing to worry about Pepper, Carole was learning all kinds of stuff while working with Judy. Most of it isn’t really relevant to this assignment, though of course it’s all very interesting and I would be glad to discuss it if you’re interested, Miss Fenton.
Carole and Judy went back to Maskee Farms for one final health check on the horses that would be racing that weekend, including Prancer. When they got there Mr. McLeod told Judy that he was afraid Prancer might be favoring one of her hind legs. I wasn’t there, of course, but Carole told me all about what happened next (several dozen times, actually), so I’m pretty sure it went something like this:
First Judy looks over Prancer in her stall and doesn’t find anything wrong. So she steps back.
“Let’s get her moving,” she says. “Somebody lead her out.”
Mr. McLeod points at Carole. “You,” he barks. “Lead her out.” He tosses a lead rope at her.
Carole catches it and goes to Prancer’s stall. The beautiful filly is overjoyed to see her. Her deep brown eyes light up, her gentle face nudges Carole’s hair, her dainty ears prick forward eagerly. Carole clips the rope on her and leads her out. She leads her past Judy and Mr. McLeod, first at a walk and then at a trot. The two adults peer intently at the horse’s legs, watching for any sign of hesitation or discomfort.
“She looks good to me,” Judy says at last.
“Hmmm,” Mr. McLeod says. “Better safe than sorry. Let’s try her at a faster gait. But there’s no one here to ride her. At least no one small, like a jockey …” Suddenly his gaze falls on Carole. “You!” he barks. “Can you ride?”
Carole’s jaw drops. “M-Me?”
“Of course she can,” Judy says. “Carole’s a terrific rider. Let’s saddle ’er up!”
Carole moves as if in a daze. Mr. McLeod tells her where the tack is, and she rushes to get the filly ready. She is going to ride a real racehorse! It’s unbelievable!
(Actually, it was unbelievable. Carole had to tell me and Lisa at least three times before we figured out that she wasn’t pulling our legs.)
Finally the filly is all set. The lightweight racing saddle is much smaller than the ones Carole is used to, and the stirrups a bit higher. Still, a saddle’s a saddle.
And moments later, Carole finds herself high up on the back of a real, live racehorse! It’s like a dream come true.
Prancer’s motions are smooth, almost seamless. Every movement she makes is sleek and graceful. Carole walks her, then trots her, while Judy and Mr. McLeod watch. Carole feels kind of self-conscious, but she soon realizes they aren’t watching her. They’re watching Prancer, trying to see if her leg is bothering her in any way.
“Let’s take her around the practice track,” Mr. McLeod suggests. He points the way to his farm’s practice track—which looks like a real racetrack, just a little bit smaller—and Carole rides Prancer there, still enjoying the filly’s fluid gaits.
Then the dream gets even better. Prancer steps onto the track. Following Mr. McLeod’s directions, Carole takes her to a trot, then a canter.…
And then, with just the slightest pressure from Carole’s legs, the filly breaks into a gallop!
Carole adjusts her position, leaning forward to maintain her balance at the new, much faster gait. She can feel the incredible power and speed of the horse beneath her as the filly’s long strides eagerly gobble up the track. Wind whistles past her ears, whipping back her hair even under her hard hat. Prancer is practically flying! And Carole is the pilot!
All too soon, Carole realizes it’s time to stop. She pulls up the filly, who is dancing with eagerness to keep running but obeys Carole’s commands.
It is one of the most special days of Carole’s life. She knows she will never forget it—or Prancer.
Miss Fenton, being the astute and erudite woman that you are, you can probably already guess that Carole had totally fallen in love with Prancer. But what you may not realize is that she was also falling in love with her job helping Judy. I’m not saying she’s definitely decided to be a vet or anything—it’s still on the list, but so are lots of other careers (like being a jockey, now that she’s seen what that can be like)—but she loves to learn about anything having to do with horses, so hanging out with someone who knows as much as Judy was her idea of big fun. Even though she had to witness a lot of sad and upsetting things, like sick and injured and poorly treated and dying horses, as well as wonderful things, like newborn foals and miraculous recoveries.
Anyway, my point is that I thought it would be useful to this part of the story if we had a word from Judy Barker, the vet Carole has been working with. I asked her to write a brief statement explaining how important Carole is to all her patients, especially Prancer. Her statement follows.
Statement from Judy Barker
My name is Judy Barker. I am an equine veterinarian from Willow Creek, Virginia. Stevie Lake has asked me to write a few words about Carole Hanson. I’m not much of a writer, but I’ll do my best, since Stevie seems to think it’s important.
I asked Carole to assist me on my rounds because she’s one of the best young horsewomen I’ve ever met She takes horse care and horse health very seriously. I had already been considering asking her to Join me on my rounds when her own horse, a bay gelding named Starlight, developed a slight swelling in his foreleg. Knowing that Carole would need something to take her mind off her worries, I made the offer, and she accepted.
Since that time, Carole has been an invaluable part of my practice. She accompanies me on my rounds as frequently as her schedule allows. Her understanding of and enthusiasm for horses has helped carry us through good times and bad.
Carole was especially helpful with one patient recently, a Thoroughbred filly named Prancer. Carole had a good rapport with this horse, which came in handy when the filly needed comforting and soothing after a terrible accident when she was suffering a great deal of pain and fear. Carole’s steadfast courage and helpfulness throughout a very tense and tragic situation were of great comfort to me and also, I strongly suspect, to Prancer.
To sum up, Carole has been a wonderful assistant. Through her young and enthusiastic eyes, I see my patients in a whole new way.
Welcome to My Life …
See, Miss Fenton? Wasn’t that a touching note? Judy really appreciates Carole’s help, and no wonder. Carole is good for the horses she works with. Just like those same horses are good for her. They help her learn, and they took her mind off Starlight’s leg problem enough so that she wouldn’t worry too much.
People are good for horses. Horses are good for people.
Isn’t that a life lesson more valuable than anything that we could learn from mere homework? I leave it to you to decide.
HEY, DORKY SISTER!
SINCE WHEN DO YOU LIKE HOMEWORK SO MUCH, ANYWAY? WE KNOW THE TRUTH. YOU’RE JUST TRYING TO KEEP US FROM PLAYING AWESOME JAWSOME BECAUSE YOU’RE A BIG LOSER. WELL, WE’RE ON TO YOU. SO WATCH OUT—THE JAWBONE WILL GET YOU WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT!!!
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
LOVE,
MICHAEL
FROM: HorseGal
TO: Steviethegreat
SUBJECT: How’s it going?
MESSAGE:
I just had another idea for an essay I could write for your report. That last one (about Starlight’s leg) turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself. I’m glad you’re using it. But sometime, if you don’t mind, I’d like to see exactly what you cut out. I know you said it was just a few words here and there, but I want to make sure everything is still clear. There are a few places where it could be easy to get confused, like the part where I explain the positioning of the navicular bone in the foot versus the flexor tendon and pedal bone, or the section about the differences between introductory-level and training-level tests in dressage. And since Miss Fenton isn’t really a horse person, well, you can’t be too careful, right?
But anyway, my new idea is that I could write something giving my impressions of the whole racetrack scene. I spent a lot of time thinking about it afterward, as you know. And I still think it’s really interesting (and kind of weird) that the whole racing industry centers around the connection between horses and making money. I mean, we ride and love and care for and appreciate horses every day, but we never expect them to repay us by earning money for us the way Mr. McLeod and other people in the racing industry do. It still seems like such a strange way to think about such wonderful animals, to me at least.
Of course, that doesn’t mean that the racetrack isn’t an exciting place. I mean, we all had fun that day, didn’t we? At least until the accident. It’s a whole world devoted to horses, and that can’t be all bad. In fact, it was pretty exciting.
So anyway, I could talk mo
re about that stuff in my essay, along with the interesting information I learned about racing (I just found a book at the library about the history of racing, so I could include some of that info, too) and my experiences behind the scenes with Judy and Prancer and all the rest of it. I could probably turn that into ten pages or so pretty easily, and I’m sure your headmistress would be really impressed, especially if I made sure to include a lot of cool racing terms like “furlong” and “photo finish.” What do you think?
FROM: Steviethegreat
TO: DSlattVT
SUBJECT: That crazy Carole—gotta love her!
MESSAGE:
So get this. Now Carole wants to do some ten-page dissertation on horse racing for my project. If Miss Fenton only knew how many millions of words I was saving her from reading, she’d probably just give me an A for the rest of my school career! Well, maybe not. But you know how Carole can get when she’s enthusiastic about a subject. And of course, when it comes to horses, she’s enthusiastic about EVERY subject. Anyway, I managed to talk her out of her latest contribution by telling her that I was afraid all the research she’d done might end up making me look bad—you know, as if I was making my friends do my assignment for me. Come to think of it, that might work equally well the next time Lisa starts blabbing on about footnotes.…
Anyway, despite how it sounds, I really do appreciate all their help and support. Yours, too, of course. That stuff you wrote about me being honest and responsible was brilliant. I was pretty worried that some of the facts of the story up to that point might have made me sound, well, you know—not quite as honest and responsible as someone like Miss Fenton might think I should be. You know? So thanks again.
Now all I have to do is convince her that spending the day at the track instead of working on my English paper was the right thing to do. Naturally, I know it was. But teachers and other adults can be so unreasonable sometimes. Thank goodness Mom and Dad didn’t suspect I hadn’t even gotten past chapter one of To Kill a Mockingbird by the day we went to the track (let alone started the paper, which was due the next Tuesday), or they never would have agreed to it. Instead of cheering on all those beautiful Thoroughbreds, I would have spent the day locked in my room with my nose buried in my book.
Stevie Page 12