Horse Play Page 7

  Of course, they all knew who Dorothy DeSoto was. She was one of Max’s most famous students. She’d gotten her start at Pine Hollow and had gone on to be a very successful and famous rider. She’d even been on the last Olympic team and had gotten a silver medal.

  “Is she coming for a visit?” Lisa asked, awestruck.

  “Better than that,” Max said. “She’s coming to do a demonstration for all of my students, especially you three. I’ve been planning this with her for weeks and it’s scheduled for exactly the same time as you girls want to do your drill show. Dorothy is a very busy woman and I can’t ask her to change her schedule—”

  “But Max, we put all those signs all around town. Lots of people are going to show up for it.…”

  “Most of them relatives,” Max suggested.

  Of course, that was true. The girls hadn’t liked to think about it, but the chances of luring a lot of total strangers to an amateur drill show by three young riders were actually pretty slim.

  “And those who do come will have the extra treat of watching Dorothy DeSoto do a dressage demonstration.”

  “Extra?” Carole asked suspiciously.

  Max smiled slyly. “Sure, why not? We’ve both planned something for the same time. We can do both. Dorothy’s demo will take about fifteen minutes. We’ll put the two together and really give the audience a treat.”

  “You mean we’re going to be on the same bill as Dorothy DeSoto?” Stevie said, obviously stunned. Carole thought it was very theatrical of Stevie to refer to it as “being on the same bill,” but then, Stevie was a very theatrical person.

  “Yes, that’s what I mean,” Max said. “Six o’clock on Friday. Don’t be late. Don’t make any mistakes. You’ll go first.” Max stopped abruptly and looked at Lisa in surprise. She was so excited about the idea of performing for an Olympic rider that without thinking about it, she’d pulled her hands out of her pockets and was holding them against her cheeks.

  “Go and stop?” Max asked. At first, Lisa didn’t know what he was saying. Then she realized that she’d revealed her silly fingernails. Blushing deeply, and unable to answer, she shoved her hands back into her pockets.

  “It’s part of the drill exercise,” Carole explained. “Has to do with left and right.”

  Max nodded. The answer seemed to satisfy him. “Anything to make things simpler,” he said. “Now I just wish somebody could make my life simpler.”

  “That’s what we were trying to do,” Stevie said. Knowing that Stevie was reverting to her earlier topic, Carole glared at her. It sometimes seemed that Stevie’s worst enemy was her mouth.

  “How’s that?” Max asked.

  “I mean, putting both demonstrations on the same bill,” Stevie stammered.

  One of Max’s eyebrows went down; the other went up. The look on his face was of total skepticism. “That doesn’t make sense,” Max announced. “Why don’t you tell me what you really meant?”

  Stevie scrunched up her face. She’d blown it and she knew it. “We were just trying to help,” she began.

  “With what?” Max asked.

  Their goose was cooked. Stevie glanced at Carole for help.

  “It was your idea. You’d better tell him,” Carole said.

  “Yeah,” Stevie agreed unenthusiastically. “Max, we wanted it to be a secret, but we’ve just been trying to help you out so that you could pay off Veronica’s father, see, because we hate the idea that he’d take over Pine Hollow and Veronica would be even more awful then—”

  “Veronica’s father?” Max said. “What’s he got to do with this and besides that, how could Veronica be …” His voice trailed off. Carole had the feeling he didn’t want to finish the sentence. “Anyway, for the third time, what does Mr. diAngelo have to do with this?” Max started to get a very serious look on his face—maybe even stormy. Carole was getting a bad feeling about the situation.

  It was time to let the cat completely out of the bag. “Well, I heard you talking to him. You said you couldn’t do it now, and you knew the riders would suffer. Well, we would if the bank took over this place. We just couldn’t let it happen, Max!” Stevie waited. “You told him you didn’t have enough money and you needed more time.”

  Max studied Stevie carefully. “When was this?” he asked.

  Stevie thought for a second. “It was right after the class when we were playing Break and Out,” she told him. “You remember—the one where Veronica was cantering and you’d told us all to walk?” Stevie smiled a little, remembering how silly Veronica had looked and how they’d all laughed at her. “Then after class I came to your office to ask you something and I heard you on the phone. You sounded just desperate! You said you didn’t have enough money or enough time, and I, I mean we, figured it would be bad for all of us if you were in trouble, so we …”

  She stopped talking. The girls could see that Max wasn’t listening. He was thinking. He began to nod.

  “I remember the conversation,” he said. “And now I don’t know whether to laugh or yell.”

  “Laugh,” Stevie said. “Please!”

  Max’s shoulders started shaking and the girls knew that meant he was beginning to laugh.

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll laugh. You thought I was talking to Mr. diAngelo?” He snorted with laughter.

  “Yes, I did,” Stevie said indignantly. Although she liked it better when Max laughed than when he yelled, she didn’t much like it when he was laughing at her. “You told him that you couldn’t pay it now and that it was going to affect us, but we’d get used to it.”

  “Now let me guess—then you went out and began dragging in students from off the streets to keep me in business?” he asked.

  The Saddle Club girls nodded in unison.

  “Like those little Scouts, and that waitress, and all the fourth graders in Willow Creek?” he asked.

  “The Scouts were just luck,” Stevie said. “We ran into them in the supermarket.”

  “Whose luck?” Max asked. “You should try teaching them!”

  Carole had a sudden and vivid memory of the girls wandering all over the supermarket, wreaking havoc. She tried to imagine what it must be like instructing a group like that. She burst into laughter. Lisa and Stevie joined her.

  “Well, they’re learning,” Max said. “But they’re exhausting. And so are all the other students you brought in here for me.”

  “But you’re not going to have to sell out to Mr. diAngelo now, are you?” Stevie asked.

  “No, and I never was,” Max said.

  “What?” Stevie yelped. She glanced at Carole and Lisa, who were shaking their heads at her. “Uh-oh …” she mumbled.

  “What you overheard wasn’t a conversation with him,” Max continued. “I was talking to a man who was trying to sell me a horse. I want to buy a couple of new horses. I’d like some trained show horses for the better riders to use, but I’ve got so many boarders at this time that I don’t have space. I told the man that. He was trying to push me into expanding, but I can’t do it now. It’s the busiest time of the year—especially since I’ve had so many new students. So I lost the chance to buy the horse he wanted me to buy. He was a terrible nag and kept calling me. I didn’t like him at all. I’m glad our deal fell through.”

  “You mean you weren’t talking about losing the stable?” Stevie asked, her face beginning to flush.

  “No, I wasn’t. This place has been in my family for three generations and it’s not about to change hands. I guess I’m glad you care so much about it—”

  “But we’ve caused you more problems than we’ve solved, huh?” Carole asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Max said. “You have caused me some trouble, but it’s always good for a place to have new students. If only I had enough assistants to help me instruct them all—say, I’ve got an idea!”

  “Uh-oh,” Stevie said. “I don’t like it when he gets that look in his face. It always means more work for us.”

  “It sure does,�
�� Max agreed. “I’d like you to assist me with the classes for some of the new students.”

  “You mean like help you teach?” Carole asked eagerly. To her, that sounded like a dream come true. It didn’t sound like work at all.

  “Yes,” Max said. “Especially with those little Scouts!”

  Carole reconsidered. That would be work.

  “Max, we’re going to be awfully busy working on the show,” she said quickly.

  “Of course you are,” he said. “Then right after that, you can begin helping me with the little girls. The first thing they have to learn is not to call me Maxie!”

  “I think we can handle that!” Stevie said. Then they all laughed together.

  As the girls left Max’s office, Carole had a great feeling of relief. She hadn’t liked keeping a secret from Max.

  “Boy, I blew that, didn’t I?” Stevie asked. She sounded disgusted with herself.

  “Don’t worry,” Carole consoled her. “It’s all going to work out okay. We’ll do our show. We’ll get to meet Dorothy DeSoto. The stable’s not going to belong to Mr. diAngelo—”

  “And we’ll get to help Max teach the little monsters,” Lisa finished for her.

  “Hmmm,” Stevie said. “I wonder.”

  “What?” Carole asked.

  “Well, I think I’m getting an idea,” she said thoughtfully.

  “No,” Lisa told her. “No more ideas!”

  “Ever?” Stevie asked. She sounded just a little bit hurt.

  “Well, at least for a week,” Lisa relented.

  “It’s a deal,” Stevie agreed. “Now let’s go practice our routine.”

  They returned to the stalls.

  “I think I’m going to die,” Carole said as she carried the tack to her waiting horse. She put the saddle on Diablo and adjusted the girth. “Imagine—Dorothy DeSoto here! And she’ll see us ride, too!”

  Carole wasn’t certain whether she was more scared or more excited. She was certainly both, and so were Lisa and Stevie.

  “We can do it, you know!” Carole said, throwing her arms around her friends’ shoulders. “We’ll be great!”

  She just wished she felt as sure as she sounded.

  WHEN CAROLE GOT to Diablo’s stall before The Saddle Club’s next drill practice, she could tell that something was wrong. Diablo looked so tired. She slid the door open to get a better look at him. He stood listlessly in his stall, the white foamy sweat collecting on his shoulders and breast. He had the look of a horse who had been ridden hard. He was even still breathing fast.

  “What’s going on here?” Carole demanded. Nobody answered her.

  Then Red O’Malley came along to Diablo’s stall carrying a bucket with some fresh water for the horse.

  “Who’s been riding Diablo?” she asked. Red just gave her a disgusted look. That could only mean one thing: Veronica had been riding him. She was the only girl at the stable who would expect Red to do her work for her, untacking her horse and bringing him fresh water. She was also one of the few riders who would have bad enough judgment to put him in his stall when he was still hot and breathing hard.

  “I was supposed to ride Diablo this afternoon,” she said.

  Red shrugged. “Tell it to the judge,” he said. “Or better still, the banker’s daughter.”

  Carole nodded in resignation. “Okay, okay. I’ll ride Barq. But I’ve got to have Diablo on Friday, okay?”

  “Check with Mrs. Reg,” Red suggested. “She can manage it, I’m pretty sure.”

  “All right,” Carole agreed. She was about to go get Barq’s tack when she stopped and turned back. “Does Veronica always put her horse away without cooling him down?” she asked.

  “Veronica always does exactly what Veronica wants to do,” Red answered.

  Carole nodded in understanding. Veronica would never think of her horse before herself. “I’ll walk him a bit,” she offered. Diablo really needed to walk around the ring a few times before he got to drink and rest in his stall. Carole knew that if a horse didn’t have a chance to walk and cool down, his muscles could stiffen up and he’d be in real trouble the next time somebody tried to ride him. Veronica knew that, too. She just didn’t care.

  “Don’t worry,” Red assured her. “I know Stevie and Lisa are going to be waiting for you, so go ahead and take Barq out. I’ll walk Diablo, but thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” Carole said. She returned to the tack room to pick up Barq’s tack. As she went, she realized again how relieved she was to know that the trouble Max was in didn’t have anything to do with Veronica or her father. That girl was enough of a pain as it was. But that did leave Carole wondering why Veronica had taken Diablo out for a ride. She knew Carole was signed up for Diablo. Could she have ridden him just to make Carole angry? Was that Veronica’s idea of a joke? For that matter, could it be that Veronica’s idea of a joke included things like switching boots, putting oats in them, and mixing up tack? Carole decided to think about it after drill practice.

  STEVIE SNUGGLED UP to Comanche before she put on his bridle. She scratched him under his chin. As before, his mouth opened and closed as if he were chewing with his mouth open—or as if he were talking.

  “How about it, big boy?” she asked the horse. “Ready for the stage?”

  She then dropped her voice, began his jaw working, and spoke for him. “The one going west?” he asked.

  “Cute,” she said. “I just love a joker.”

  She began to tack-up the horse, thinking all the while about what a silly idea it was that horses could talk, and whether she could use the idea. It had very real possibilities. She just needed to have a word with Max.

  “NOW TO THE right—and then curve at the … Lisa!” Carole called sharply. “You’ve got to make those corners sharper.”

  Lisa sighed. It seemed to her like this was a day when she couldn’t do anything right. “How do I make them sharper?” she asked sarcastically. “Break the horse in half to make a ninety degree turn?”

  Carole looked a little surprised, then seemed to realize that she wasn’t really being fair. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll show you.”

  Carole began walking Barq. At the corner, Barq began not so much to turn as to bend. His entire body made a crescent and then turned back into a straight line when he’d completed the turn.

  “Oh,” Lisa said, almost involuntarily. “How’d you do that?”

  “I’ll tell you my secret,” Carole said. Carole seemed to be most comfortable and happy when she was talking about horses and riding. Sometimes, Lisa thought, it got a little boring, but the fact was that Carole loved horses so much and she knew so much about them that she was usually right, and always worth listening to.

  The girls worked together on turns for about fifteen minutes. Carole explained how the rider had to coordinate what each hand and leg did in order to tell the horse exactly what to do.

  “Give me a break,” Lisa said. “The horse can’t possibly remember all those things!”

  “That’s right,” Carole said. “He can’t remember it all. That’s why you have to remind him. Every time. Now try it.”

  Lisa was less than certain it was going to work. At her first corner, Pepper was very happy to do exactly what he wanted to—cut the corner improperly.

  “See?” Lisa said.

  “Try again,” Carole told her.

  Lisa regarded Carole dubiously, but she headed Pepper toward the next corner. This time, she tried to follow Carole’s instructions. She sat deep in the saddle, looked straight toward the turn, shifted her outside foot back of the horse’s girth and used her inside hand to indicate the turn to her horse. Like magic, Pepper’s entire body curved with the turn. Lisa could hardly believe it.

  “See?” Carole asked.

  Lisa nodded sheepishly. “Let me try it a couple more times,” she said.

  Carole and Stevie watched and encouraged Lisa while she worked on the maneuver.

  “You know one of the things I real
ly love about riding?” Lisa asked. Her friends looked at her expectantly. “I love the fact that when you learn to do something right, you can really, actually control the horse. I mean, like it works.”

  Carole and Stevie both nodded and smiled. They knew exactly how Lisa felt. They felt the same way.

  • • •

  THE STABLE WAS quiet. Stevie was alone in the tack room, applying saddle soap to Comanche’s tack. Stevie didn’t usually go out of her way to spend time alone or to spend time cleaning tack, but her mother had left strict instructions with the housekeeper today that Stevie was to work on her book report the moment she got home from riding. If there was a surefire way to make a book dull, it was having to write a book report about it. Just sitting there, Stevie groaned at the thought. Anyway, as long as she was doing her chores at the stable, she wasn’t writing a book report and that was good.

  The tack room was between the locker area and Mrs. Reg’s office. Mrs. Reg had gone to buy supplies. None of the students was around. Stevie’s only company was a gray tabby cat named Hambletonian. The cat wasn’t much company. He slept soundly in a beam of late afternoon sunlight which streamed through the dingy window. Every few minutes, his sunbeam would shift. Hambletonian would half open his eyes, notice where the warming beam had gone to, and shift his position. Stevie thought he must have eaten a very big mouse to be so lazy this afternoon.

  Stevie soaped the skirt of the saddle. While she worked, she was going over the intricate movements of their drill exercise. She was concentrating so hard, and working so quietly while she did it, that she hardly noticed when somebody entered the locker area.

  But the long shadows of the late afternoon played across the floor of the locker area and into the tack room. Stevie looked up, suddenly alert. Somebody was moving around the locker area and making no noise at all. There was something peculiar about that.

  Staying quiet herself, Stevie looked through the door into the locker area. Somebody was crouched in front of Stevie’s cubby and that somebody didn’t belong there.

  Silently, Stevie stood up and sneaked over to the door. She took cover behind a pillar where the shadows made a hiding place. She peered around the pillar and watched.