Lisa kicked again. Streamline kept on walking placidly. It took another half dozen kicks before Streamline was trotting, and that lasted only a few steps before the horse resumed walking again. Lisa tried clicking her tongue and slapping the mare’s flanks with her hand, but it didn’t inspire Streamline. Lisa began to wonder how a horse whose best gait—perhaps only gait—was a walk, got the name Streamline. She didn’t want a wild horse she’d be worrying about all the time, but she did want a horse with some independence.
“We’ve been using her for rides with the children around here,” Mrs. Brandon said. “Wouldn’t hurt a fly, you know.”
“I can tell,” Lisa said.
“Anybody’s real safe on this horse,” Mrs. Brandon said.
“I’m sure they would be,” Lisa told her. Mrs. Brandon looked pleased. Streamline must have been a wonderful horse for the Brandons—just what they’d needed. Mrs. Brandon appeared to be glad that Lisa could appreciate the horse’s strong points.
“Everybody likes Streamline. You do, too, don’t you?” Mrs. Brandon asked.
Lisa nodded. Of course she liked Streamline. How could anybody not like her? The problem was that Lisa didn’t want to own Streamline. She didn’t know how to explain this to her parents without hurting Mrs. Brandon’s feelings.
Lisa’s parents were waiting for them expectantly at the paddock gate. “Do you love her?” her mother asked.
Lisa felt uncomfortable with the question, but she knew what her answer was going to be. “She’s a really sweet horse,” Lisa began tactfully.
Mrs. Brandon interrupted before Lisa could continue. “Sure your daughter loves Streamline,” she said. “Everybody loves Streamline, but she’s not the right horse for Lisa and I’m not going to sell her to you.”
Mr. Atwood was astonished. “What are you talking about? You said the horse was for sale. We can pay your price. Don’t you want the money?”
Mrs. Brandon tied Streamline’s lead rope to the fence and helped Lisa dismount. “Money isn’t the issue here. Your daughter and my horse are the issues. Your daughter’s a good rider and she’s going to be a better rider. Streamline’s a good horse for bad riders, but a bad horse for good riders. She’s safe and gentle, but Lisa’s already outgrown Streamline’s temperament and she’ll want a different horse within a year. That’s not fair to either of them. Streamline belongs with a family with a lot of little kids who will use her as a first horse, where she’ll get loads of love. And Lisa deserves a horse she can grow with.”
Lisa patted Streamline and gave her a carrot.
“How do you feel about this, dear?” Mrs. Atwood asked.
“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” She climbed over the paddock fence and, while her mother scraped the mud off her shoes, Lisa got the names of a couple of other places where she might find a horse for herself.
“Good luck!” Mrs. Brandon called. Lisa and her parents waved good-bye. Streamline just munched contentedly on the sparse grass.
IT TOOK LISA two trips to get all of her books out of the trunk of the car. She wondered, as she carried the second load up to her room, how she’d managed to get them all out there in one trip in the first place. It must have been adrenaline, she decided.
She was still full of adrenaline, too. She had some absolutely wonderful news to share with her friends. Even though Streamline wasn’t the horse for her, her parents weren’t giving up. They were serious about buying her a horse, her very own horse. She could hardly wait to tell Carole and Stevie. She raced up the stairs with her second load of books and headed for the phone on her bedside table.
Stevie’s line was busy. Stevie’s line was always busy. Even when Stevie’s parents had given up and gotten a separate line for Stevie and her brothers, the problem hadn’t been solved. In fact, Stevie and her brothers seemed to spend more time on the phone. Lisa thought about pretending that she’d forgotten Stevie’s number and calling on the parents’ line, but she didn’t think the Lakes would believe her.
She decided to call Carole instead. The phone rang three times before Carole answered it, out of breath.
“Hi, Carole, it’s me, Lisa. Did you have to run for the phone?”
“No, I mean, yes. Well, sort of. See, I just got home from Pine Hollow and I was in front of the house, so I heard the phone ringing and I had to run a bit. No trouble. Let me just get my book bag off.” There was a pause and Lisa heard a loud thunk. “I had to call you anyway, so I’m glad you called.”
Carole’s tone of voice made Lisa realize that her own good news was going to have to wait until her friend had told her what was bothering her.
“What’s up?” Lisa asked.
“Oh, it’s Veronica. You won’t believe it. She’s got her new horse already!” Carole had been there when the van had arrived, and she told Lisa all about it.
“That horse just about prances instead of walking. And what a face!”
Arabians were famous for having pretty heads and faces, and Garnet, it seemed, was no exception. Garnet was being stabled in the stall that had belonged to Cobalt. Cobalt’s death had hurt Carole deeply, and the more Carole talked, the more Lisa realized that her friend was afraid that Veronica’s carelessness was going to hurt her new horse as well.
“… and she just yanked at the lead rope when the horse was coming out of the van! That’s no way to unload a horse. You lead them, you don’t yank them. You know that. I know that. Everybody but Veronica knows that! So why is it that Veronica’s the one with the new horse?”
“You know as well as I do,” Lisa said, but Carole didn’t respond to her comment.
“Then, the horse hadn’t even been out of the van and on hard ground for thirty seconds when Veronica was looking around for somebody to help her! That girl doesn’t know the first thing about horses! Owning a horse is really a lot more responsibility than it is fun—though I’d gladly take on the responsibility. Anyway, for me, anything to do with horses is fun. I’d even enjoy mucking out the stall for my own horse. But nobody who isn’t willing to do the work should take on the job. And Veronica thinks cleaning a water bucket is beneath her. Believe me, she shouldn’t take on the job of owning a horse. She’s just not fit to own one. You should have seen the business of the blanket!”
Lisa listened while Carole described Veronica’s unwillingness to put a blanket on Garnet, even though there was a chill in the stable. Mrs. Reg, Max’s mother, who helped her son run the stables, had loaned Veronica a blanket for the horse, but Veronica was upset because she didn’t like the color of the blanket. Lisa knew that everything Carole was saying was true, and that Veronica was really very unfit to own Garnet, just as she’d been unfit to own Cobalt. She hadn’t learned a thing from Cobalt’s tragic death. But Lisa felt there was more to what Carole was saying than that.
Lisa knew Carole well enough to know that horses were her life, not just a fashionable hobby, as they were for Veronica. What Carole wanted more than anything was to own a horse. It was something she dreamed about every single night, and Lisa thought that underneath all the anger, her friend was very jealous.
It would not have crossed Carole’s mind to be envious of Veronica’s designer clothes, her big house, her own VCR, her gigantic swimming pool, or her vacations in Europe. None of that meant anything to Carole. What meant something to Carole was horses. Veronica had one, Carole did not. And that was something to envy.
It suddenly occurred to Lisa that Carole might be jealous of her, too, if she had a horse. The thought upset her, and she couldn’t quite bring herself to tell Carole about her parents’ decision. She didn’t even want to tell her about Streamline and the wise owner who didn’t want Lisa to buy her.
“So, guess who got to groom Garnet?” Carole continued, not noticing her friend’s silence. “You got it. I groomed her. You won’t believe how silky her coat is. It’s very soft and it gleams when you groom it just right. After I was all done, Veronica’s parents came in and admired the horse—not the job I
’d done, of course—the horse. They are just as awful as she is! By the way, speaking of parents, what was up with yours this afternoon?”
Carole could talk about horses by the hour, but eventually, she would remember other things, too. Lisa had been hoping that Carole would forget about the note and how upset she’d been in school. But Carole was a good friend. She cared too much to let those things slip for long.
“My parents?” Lisa said, stalling for time.
“Yeah, the note they sent you—that they were picking you up. What was that all about?”
“Oh, that. It turned out to be nothing at all. They were together and knew they’d be near school when it let out, so they just picked me up and drove me home.” The explanation sounded lame, but Lisa hoped it would work.
“Oh,” Carole said. “I’m glad everything’s okay. I’ve got to go now. I’m going to make a list of gear that Veronica will have to get for Garnet. She’ll never do it without my help, you know, and a horse really ought to have its own grooming gear—especially a horse as good as Garnet. Bye. See you in riding class tomorrow, and then at Max’s big meeting! Any more ideas what it’s about?”
“No brainstorm yet. Bye-bye.”
Lisa hung up the phone. She felt terrible about keeping the truth from Carole. What was the right thing to do? She was too confused to figure it out herself; she needed help.
One thing she’d learned over the last few months was that she could always get help from The Saddle Club. Obviously she couldn’t talk to Carole, but she could discuss the problem with Stevie and possibly come up with a solution.
Lisa reached for the phone again, but then she had a better idea. Stevie was expecting her to come over and help with the science project this evening anyway, so it could wait until after dinner. She’d go to Stevie’s house and tell her about it, in person. Stevie would know what to do. Stevie always had the answer.
“WAIT A MINUTE,” Lisa told Stevie as she stared at the confused array of seeds, pots, and dirt better known as Stevie’s science project. “You have to be logical. Now, let’s think this through. Your project is to show how important water and light are to seed germination. So you set up one pot with seeds that get both light and water, one that gets light but not water, and one that gets water but not light. Oh, yes, and one that doesn’t get either. That’s very important. That’s your control.”
“That’s it?” Stevie asked.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Lisa said. “And it turns out that you need both light and water—big surprise—to get the seeds to grow. It’ll take about ten days to get conclusive results. Don’t forget which pots need water, okay?”
Stevie nodded sheepishly. It always seemed simple once somebody helped her sort out what was important from what wasn’t. She was very glad Lisa had come to help her. As she began putting soil in the pots, she told her so.
“Thanks a lot. I probably would have figured it out eventually, but you saved me a whole lot of trouble. When I couldn’t reach you this afternoon, I was going to call Carole, but she was so upset about Garnet—did she tell you?”
“Yeah, she did,” Lisa said. “And that reminds me of what I wanted to tell you about—”
“You should have seen Veronica this afternoon,” Stevie interrupted. She really wanted to tell Lisa what it had been like. “She out-Veronica-ed Veronica! That horse wasn’t out of the van two seconds before she was looking around for somebody else to do her work for her! Of course, Carole pitched right in. When there’s a job to be done and it has to do with horses, it’s Carole to the rescue. Veronica’s unbelievable! And the really insane part was that her parents were right there and they didn’t even seem to notice that Veronica was totally useless!”
Each of the four pots in front of Stevie was now two-thirds filled with soil. Stevie opened the seed pouch. She’d chosen radishes because they grew so fast. She dumped one quarter of the packet in each of the four pots.
“Stevie! You don’t need to put so many seeds in!” Lisa said.
“This way at least something will grow,” Stevie reasoned.
“And you may have to change your experiment to whether plants need any room in the pot to grow!”
Reluctantly, Stevie fished the extra seeds out of each pot and then covered the remaining ones with another half inch of soil. She patted the soil down gently, dusted off her hands, and began to write the labels. When she finished, she noticed the labels were smeared with dirt. She stuck them on the pots regardless. Stevie figured it didn’t matter much. The pots were dirty anyway. Growing things was a dirty business.
“So anyway,” Stevie continued, anxious to finish telling Lisa about Veronica, “Carole groomed Garnet and I got her feed ready. Veronica stood there with her hands on her hips, like a queen overseeing her servants. Honestly, that girl has no business owning a horse! The worst of it is, she’s got one, and I don’t!” It didn’t seem fair to Stevie. A horse was something to be earned!
She poured water into two of the pots and then realized that Lisa was being strangely silent.
“Is something wrong?” she asked Lisa. “I mean, other than the obvious fact that Veronica doesn’t deserve Garnet?”
“Oh, no,” Lisa said. “It’s just that—uh, well, I’m sorry I missed seeing Garnet today. I guess she’s a real beauty.”
“She is,” Stevie assured Lisa. “But don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to see Garnet, and groom Garnet, and feed Garnet, and clean Garnet’s tack. You just won’t have a chance to ride Garnet. That privilege will be saved for the queen herself. Now help me find a space in my closet for the pots that don’t get any light, will you?”
THAT NIGHT, LISA lay in her bed, her head swimming with confused thoughts. Something was terribly wrong, and she needed to understand it. As she had done with Stevie’s science project, she tried to sort the facts into logical order.
She had some good news, really good news, but if she told the two people she most wanted to tell, she might hurt them. It wasn’t as if it were good news that she could hide. After all, a horse was too big to hide for very long. Then her friends would be angry at her for not telling, and jealous of her as well.
Because it was jealousy that made them so angry at Veronica, wasn’t it?
CAROLE WAS HAVING a difficult time concentrating on her riding class. She found herself looking at the door almost every minute. She was waiting for her father. He’d said he would be there and she knew she could count on him. She wasn’t worried that he wouldn’t show up, she was just anxious that he was coming. She was also more than a little anxious to know what the meeting after class was all about.
“Now I want you all to canter without stirrups,” Max announced. “This is a balance exercise for you. Cross your stirrups up over your saddle and … begin!”
Carole followed his instructions, as she always did, but her eyes remained on the doorway. It confused her horse. One of the first things a rider learns is to look in the direction she wants her horse to go. Horses seem to sense that, perhaps from a shift in balance. Not looking in the right direction is one of the easiest ways to lose points in a competition.
“Eyes forward!” Max warned her. He didn’t have to say it again, though, because just then Colonel Hanson arrived. Carole grinned at him and then completely turned her attention to her riding.
Soon after her father sat down on one of the benches around the ring, other parents started arriving. Within a short time, parents were waving at riders, riders were waving at parents, and Max was totally frustrated.
“Okay, I guess it’s time to call it quits,” he told his students. “I want you to dismount and walk your horses until they’ve cooled down. Then untack them, water and feed them, and our meeting will begin.”
Carole slid down out of the saddle. Her father walked over to her and tentatively patted her horse, Barq.
“Why do you have to walk him?” he asked.
Carole explained that if you put a horse in his stall before he had a c
hance to walk and cool down, he could stiffen up and have some bad muscle problems, and sometimes complicated digestive problems.
“Oh,” the colonel said, holding the reins while Carole loosened Barq’s girth for his cooling walk.
Carole was surprised, during the next half hour, at how much she had to tell her father. She had been around horses and loved them all her life. He had always supported her love of horses, and she had always assumed that he knew as much as she did. But, she realized, he really didn’t know much about them. He didn’t even know how to lead a horse!
Finally, the work was finished. Barq and the other horses were cooled, groomed, bedded, and fed. The riders had changed into their street clothes. It was time for the meeting to begin. All the young riders and their parents gathered in the spacious living room of Max’s house, which adjoined Pine Hollow Stables.
“I’ve asked you all to come,” Max began, “because I want to talk to you about an exciting new opportunity for my young riders and their parents. I have just received a letter from the U.S. Pony Clubs, approving my application to begin our own club at Pine Hollow.”
Carole couldn’t contain her gasp. Their own Pony Club! Max smiled while the others looked at her in surprise. Carole could tell that she and Max were the only ones who really knew what that would mean. She listened excitedly while Max explained it to the others. Pony Clubs were local groups, part of a national organization that sponsored instruction and activities for young riders. There were usually weekly meetings for each local club and then monthly or seasonal “rallies” where several nearby clubs could get together and have competition and instruction periods.
Pony Clubs also had their own rating systems for members, based on the completion of specific tasks and goals. They weren’t just things you could learn from books, either. Every Pony Club member was expected to learn not only about riding, but also about horse care, stable management, and even veterinary care. Pony Clubs really covered just about everything having to do with horses.
Horse Wise Page 3