Lisa nodded. “We saw her and she seemed glad to see us,” she said. “Except she kept looking over my shoulder.”
“I think she was looking for you,” I told Carole.
Carole smiled a little. “She’s an amazing horse. A truly amazing horse.”
“All the more reason to be there for her now,” I pointed out, offering Carole my hand to help her up.
Carole took it. She also took the tissue that Lisa had pulled out of somewhere or other and was offering to her. After Carole had blown her nose and wiped her eyes, we headed out of the shed and returned to the stable building.
There were more people than before, clustered around Prancer’s stall as we approached. Judy was still there, of course, along with the track vet and Mr. McLeod and some of the other people we’d seen earlier. They were peering at a large X ray, which Judy was holding up to the light. Several official-looking people with clipboards were also on the scene, making notes and speaking into tape recorders and cell phones.
Carole ignored them all. She walked past them, past Judy and the X ray, straight to Prancer’s stall. Lisa and I followed.
Prancer was still standing awkwardly on her three good legs, with her injured right foreleg lifted off the floor. But she gave a little hop forward when she saw Carole approaching and sort of whiffled her lips in what could only have been a greeting.
Carole reached into her pocket and pulled out a sugar lump, which she fed to the filly. Prancer’s big teeth crunched down on the treat as Carole let herself into the stall and gave her a big hug. Prancer nuzzled her affectionately as Lisa and I stepped forward to pat her.
I was making a real effort not to turn and race over to the adults and demand to know what was going on. It was so hard to wait—but I knew we had to. We had to trust Judy. She wouldn’t keep us in suspense any longer than necessary. And I didn’t want to disturb her while she was figuring out how to save Prancer.
Still, I knew I had to do something to keep myself busy or I would go crazy. So I did the only thing that seemed natural. I grabbed a grooming brush that was sitting on a trunk nearby and started brushing some of the dried sweat and dirt from the filly’s bay coat.
Prancer seemed to appreciate it. She nodded her head up and down, just like Topside does when I groom him. Lisa joined in, picking at the tangles in the filly’s dark mane with her fingers, while Carole continued to hug Prancer and murmur loving words of encouragement.
A moment later, I heard the track vet’s voice above the low murmur of adults nearby. “Too bad,” he said.
From my position near Prancer’s withers, I saw Carole stiffen. She kept hugging and murmuring, but I could tell she was listening as hard as I was. So was Lisa, her fingers shaking a little as she worked at a particularly stubborn knot.
“Not really,” Mr. McLeod was saying. “The insurance money would be nice, and I know I’ll never recover my investment, but look at that horse. Would anybody want to destroy her?”
At his words, all the adults suddenly turned to look at Prancer—and at us, standing there hugging and grooming her as if we were just returning from a trail ride rather than waiting for the most important decision of her life.
Judy looked surprised for a second. Then she burst out laughing. Carole released her hug. Feeling a little embarrassed, I shifted the brush to my other hand and stepped forward, toward the adults.
“What’s the story?” I asked Judy, in as professional and mature a voice as I could muster.
“Prancer has a broken bone in her foot.” Judy held up the X ray and we all peered at it, though I for one couldn’t make heads or tails of what I was seeing. “It’s her pedal bone,” Judy explained. “The fracture extends to the coffin joint. She’s never going to race again.”
“Oh, no!” Carole burst out. “What does …” She gulped, and her words trailed off.
“It means she can’t race,” Judy said quickly. “It doesn’t mean she can’t live. The bone will heal with proper care, but she’ll always tend to favor it, and if she races again and favors her right foot, she’ll run a great risk of breaking something more serious.”
“What will you do with her?” Carole asked.
“I’m not sure,” Mr. McLeod said. “I’ll have to think about it. In a way it would be easier to take the insurance money, but Prancer’s a gem, with the sweetest disposition I’ve ever seen. She should be with people, I think. For now, though, she’s going back to Maskee Farms.” He glanced around and spotted a groom. After a few words about preparing the van, he turned back to Carole. “You’d be the right one to load Prancer onto the van. Will you do it?”
Carole agreed, of course, and we helped her as she clipped a lead line to Prancer’s halter and slowly, carefully, brought her out of the stall. Then we stepped aside as Carole coaxed her, step by step, up the ramp leading onto the van.
I glanced at Lisa and noticed a very odd expression on her face. “What’s with you?” I asked her.
She hesitated, then smiled. “I just had an idea,” she said. “Something Mr. McLeod said made me think of it. It’s kind of crazy, but …”
“Spill it,” I ordered. Then I listened carefully to what Lisa had in mind.
By the time she was finished, I was grinning. “There’s only one way to find out if it will work,” I said. I held up my hand and carefully crossed my fingers. Then I turned. “Oh, Judy!” I called. “We need to talk to you for a second.…”
Stevie Lake
47 Laurel Road
Willow Creek, VA
Dear Stevie,
It was great to hear your voice on the answering machine today—also a bit of a surprise! Not too many of my friends from back home call me here in England. It was wonderful to hear an American accent again. (Actually, I think it’s these Brits who have the accent, but Nigel insists we Americans are the ones who talk funny!)
In any case, to answer your questions about the demonstration I did at Pine Hollow: To the best of my memory, I followed that second lead change with the counter-canter, and yes, there were a couple of pirouettes in the test, toward the end. Other than that, your description was pretty accurate. I can tell you must have really been paying attention! Good for you!
Sorry I couldn’t call you back—would’ve loved to talk to you. But what with the time difference and my hectic schedule these days, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to catch you in time to help with the info you need for your school project. I figured it was better just to dash off this note and send it off—“post it straight away,” as they might say here in merry old England.
Hope this helps. Good luck on your school project! And please give my best to Max and the rest of the gang. (Including my dear old Topside, of course!)
Yours,
Dorothy
Welcome to My Life …
The day after our trip to the racetrack came another big event: Dorothy DeSoto’s dressage exhibition at Pine Hollow. I had been looking forward to it from the second Max announced it, and now it was finally here!
Personality Background: Dorothy DeSoto
Miss Fenton, since I know you’re not a big fan of equestrian events and stuff like that, I feel I should explain exactly who Dorothy is and how I know her. You see, years ago she was a student at Pine Hollow just like I am now. Actually, she was in some riding classes with Judy Barker, the vet I keep talking about. And Max was their instructor. Then Dorothy went off and became a big superstar in the show ring, thanks to Max’s great teaching as well as her own natural talent and determination.
My friends and I met her right before the big show in New York City where she had a serious accident that injured her back and made her give up competitive riding. That’s when she decided to send Topside to Pine Hollow, which is why I get to ride him now. Since the accident, Dorothy has spent most of her time at her training stable outside New York City. She has also been spending time in England with her boyfriend, Nigel, who’s a member of the British Equestrian Team.
Back to the story. A whole lot of
people turned out to see Dorothy’s demonstration. There would have been a big crowd in any case, since Max had advertised around town and it really was a big deal for anyone who knew anything about horses. But as I looked around at all the people packed onto the collapsible bleachers Max had set up, I couldn’t help thinking that I had a little something to do with the great turnout, too. You see, I was in the process of putting my special plan into action, and I had been busy.
It wasn’t turning out to be any trouble at all keeping it a secret. Carole was totally distracted worrying about Prancer, and Lisa had been spending all her extra time with Pepper, so they hadn’t even suspected what I was up to. In fact, just about the only drawback was that all the planning hadn’t left me much time for homework. But at the time I was certain it would be worth it when I saw the expressions of joy and gratitude on the faces of the people gathered at Pine Hollow that day. It was all falling into place. Soon the big moment would be here!
But before it would be time for that, I got to sit back and enjoy Dorothy’s show. My friends and I arrived early to reserve seats in the front row. When Dorothy entered the ring, we waved at her cheerfully. She waved back, looking so happy to see us that we couldn’t resist rushing over to say hello.
“I groomed Topside especially well for you,” I told her proudly.
“He looks wonderful!” Dorothy said. “I can see you’re taking good care of him all the time, not just for my visit. Thank you.”
“Thank me?” I asked. “Thank you for selling him to Max. Topside’s the greatest! I told him you were coming, by the way.”
Dorothy smiled. “I thought so,” she joked. “He didn’t seem the least bit surprised to see me.”
Then Max shooed us back to our seats. Before I went, he stopped me. “Stevie, are you all ready with—”
I couldn’t believe it. He was about to give away my secret—right in front of Carole and Lisa! “Yes, Max,” I said quickly, cutting him off. “I’m all ready.” Then I turned and hurried toward the stands, carefully not making eye contact with either of my friends.
“What’s that about?” Carole said suspiciously.
I was so excited about my plan that I was about to burst. But I knew I had to keep quiet just a little bit longer. It would be better if it was a surprise. So I didn’t say a word.
“Think we can talk her out of it?” Lisa asked Carole.
I shook my head. “No way,” I said. “Just wait, though. Just wait.”
Then it was time for Dorothy’s show to start. I suddenly remembered that I’d meant to bring a camera to record the event. I also remembered that my camera was sitting in the middle of the kitchen table, where I would be sure not to miss it—except that I’d been in such a rush to get to Pine Hollow that morning that I had just grabbed a couple of pieces of toast and rushed out without even sitting down, so I hadn’t seen it there.
“Oh, well,” I muttered. I dug into my pocket and found a scrap of paper. Actually, to be perfectly honest, it was the notes I’d taken the previous Friday in history class, which kind of explains a lot about my grade on the quiz we had the next Monday, since the notes kind of got written over and then crumpled up in my cubby at Pine Hollow … but I’m getting away from the subject. The point to remember here is, I’m so serious about dressage that I wanted to take a few notes. Dressage is kind of like homework that way, don’t you think? Anyway, I thought it might be helpful to share my dressage notes with you now.
I can’t promise they’ll make a lot of sense to anyone who isn’t familiar with my own private shorthand. But I thought it would be best to include them as they are (retyped for neatness, of course), with an explanation to follow.
Stevie Lake’s Dressage Notes: A Transcript
SPCH:
• goal = Superhorse (ath.)
• part horse - !!!!!
• no rush—pat.
TEST:(T. looks AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
• 4 L so we can …
• cnt. fl. lead cx-pir. -ctr-cntr. WOW!
Stevie Lake’s Dressage Notes: A Translation
Ms. DeSoto began by giving a brief speech about the goals and traditions of the sport of dressage. Some of her major points were as follows:
• In dressage, a primary goal is to create a superior equine athlete.
• In dressage, a horse and its rider are partners. This is very important.
• Building this relationship between horse and rider takes time. The rider/trainer must have a lot of patience if s/he is to succeed in dressage.
Following her very interesting and informative speech, Ms. DeSoto entered the ring on Topside, who was in particularly fine form that day, perhaps owing to his pleasure in being reunited with his longtime trainer and partner.
Ms. DeSoto announced that she would be performing a Fourth Level dressage test that day. That’s a few steps down from a Grand Prix test, which is what you would see in the Olympics (she’s done that, since she was on the U.S. Olympic Team).
The rest of my notes simply indicate various interesting and impressive moves that Dorothy performed as part of the test, for instance, flying lead change at the canter, pirouettes, and counter-canters. Naturally, I was so busy watching and learning that I didn’t have a whole lot of time to take extensive notes; hence the rather cryptic nature of what you see above. If you would like any further information or clarification on anything having to do with dressage, please feel free to ask me anytime. I’m always happy to talk about it, especially since it’s a discipline—and I do stress the word “discipline”—that I take very seriously.
STEPHANIE,
I AM A LAWYER. ACCORDING TO THE LAW, EVERY CITIZEN IS INNOCENT UNTIL PROVEN GUILTY. THAT IS WHY I AM GIVING YOU A CHANCE TO EXPLAIN YOURSELF AND PROVIDE AN ALIBI—IF YOU HAVE ONE.
IN CASE YOU HAVEN’T FIGURED OUT WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT, I HAVE ATTACHED A COPY OF OUR LATEST PHONE BILL. YOU WILL SEE SEVERAL EXTREMELY EXPENSIVE LONG-DISTANCE CALLS MARKED IN RED. ONE TO VERMONT. ONE TO LOS ANGELES. ONE TO LONDON.
DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THESE CALLS? IF YOU DO, I SUGGEST YOU THROW YOURSELF ON THE MERCY OF THE COURT AND CONFESS IMMEDIATELY OR JUSTICE WILL BE SWIFT AND SEVERE.
YOUR ALLOWANCE PROVIDER,
DAD
Welcome to My Life …
The dressage demonstration was fantastic, as expected. Dorothy was amazing, Topside was incredible, and the whole thing was so interesting that it probably even made me forget a little bit of what I’d learned in science class that week, which explains why I didn’t do so well on the test I had a few days later.
I was so overwhelmed by the time the demonstration was over that I’d almost forgotten what was coming next. I remembered when Max walked into the ring and called for attention.
“We’re not quite done yet this afternoon,” he told the audience. “We have another treat in store for you, and it’s something that will mean a great deal to a lot of the people here—to anybody who has ever ridden at Pine Hollow.” He turned to me. “Ready?” he asked.
I grinned, nodded, and hopped up from my seat, not giving Carole and Lisa time to ask any questions. I raced into the stable as Max continued talking. Red O’Malley, the head stable hand at Pine Hollow, was waiting just inside the main doors. He was holding a lead line attached to a horse’s halter. The horse was waiting patiently just behind him.
“Here he is,” Red told me. “Ready to go.”
“Not yet,” I whispered, peeking out around the door. “I want us to make an entrance.” In the ring, Max was still speaking. He was describing a certain horse his father had bought for Pine Hollow many years before. A horse that had failed as a competition horse, as a hunter, as a farm horse, and as a little girl’s pony.
“This horse wasn’t sleek enough or strong enough to compete successfully,” Max explained. “He didn’t like the loud distractions of a fox hunt. He wasn’t strong enough to pull a plow, and frankly, one little girl just wasn’t enough for him. Dad bought the horse whose nam
e had been Clyde and renamed him … Pepper.”
“Now?” Red whispered to me.
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
Outside, Max went on. “Dad’s instincts turned out to be one hundred percent correct,” he said, speaking a little louder over the sounds of murmurs from the audience. “Pepper has been one of the most beloved horses at Pine Hollow. He has always been gentle enough for the newest rider and spirited enough for the most experienced. He’s been just about perfect for us. But time has passed and Pepper has aged. He’s no longer the strong young gelding Dad bought. He’s not even the eager mature horse so many of us have loved. He’s old; in horse years he’s approaching ninety. At ninety even horses begin having dreams of retirement. We talked about a condominium in Florida for him. We also thought about a nice cruise around the world. When we asked Pepper about those things, all he did was look at the pasture out behind the stable at Pine Hollow. So, in thanks to him for all he’s done for us—me and many of you—we’re giving Pepper that pasture. But before we do that, we’re giving him a little send-off, masterminded by one of our own riders, Ms. Stevie Lake. Stevie?”
As all eyes turned toward the stable door, I grabbed a very special item I had stashed behind a bale of hay nearby. “Now,” I told Red. “Give me a hand, will you?”
Seconds later, I was mounted on Pepper bareback. If the old horse was surprised, he didn’t let on. He obediently walked forward out of the stable. I held the reins with one hand so I could hold on to that special item in the other.
As soon as everyone in the audience saw what it was that I was holding, they burst out laughing. I grinned—and held the giant gold watch a little higher. Okay, actually it wasn’t a real watch. It was made of cardboard. But I had worked on it for hours the night before (which meant I didn’t have quite enough time to finish the math problems I was supposed to do) and it looked really great.
“No retirement party is complete without a gold watch,” Max announced.
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