Horse Play Page 9

  “Not everything is solved,” Carole reminded her friends. “We still have to do a great job in our drill demo, don’t we?”

  “With a team like this, how can we miss?” Lisa asked.

  “Just what are you going to do?” Carole asked, turning to Stevie.

  Stevie only smiled. Carole thought she could practically see feathers at the edges of Stevie’s mouth. She knew she and Lisa were just going to have to wait.

  CAROLE LOVED THE preparations for the show. She had been grooming Diablo until his coat shone like glass. His mane and tail were brushed smooth, all the tangles gone. She’d even polished his hooves. His saddle and bridle gleamed with the rich, deep sheen of fine leather. She and her friends were dressed in identical outfits: fawn-colored jodhpurs and shirts with double rows of brass buttons. They looked really sharp, and a little bit military, which fit in with the drill work they were doing. She felt a little chill of excitement as she led Diablo to the outdoor ring.

  Only the indoor ring at the stable had spectator seats, so that’s where the show was going to be. The girls had to do their warm-ups outside.

  Carole brushed the good-luck horseshoe and then mounted Diablo. Lisa was already riding Pepper and practicing spirals.

  “This is so easy when there’s only me,” Lisa said.

  “It’s all in pacing,” Carole reminded her.

  Stevie appeared with Comanche. Without ceremony, she touched the horseshoe and bounded up onto her horse.

  “Did you see?” she asked excitedly. She pointed wildly toward the area of the stable that opened onto the outdoor ring.

  Carole and Lisa brought their horses over to the entrance. They leaned forward and peered down the dim hallway.

  It was hard to see, but it wasn’t too hard to see Veronica diAngelo. She was just returning from her private lesson on the trail with Red. She’d dismounted from Barq and she was positively hobbling as she led her horse to his stall.

  “She can barely walk!” Stevie giggled. “Your dad’s a genius!”

  “Yeah, he is,” Carole acknowledged. “But I may be even more of a genius than he is. What size are your jodhpur boots, Stevie?” she asked.

  “Oh, I’ve got these giant feet. Chad says my shoes are violin cases. I wear an eight and a half. Couldn’t you just see—Hey, you are a genius. I’ll make the switch after the show tonight. She’ll be swimming in them on Monday!”

  “Two minutes, girls!” Max called out to them.

  Carole felt a knot form in her stomach and she thought she could almost hear her blood rushing through her veins. Two minutes to showtime. Two minutes would show the results of all their hard work. Two minutes to success—or humiliation?

  “One minute!”

  “Come on, Carole. You’re the leader. You go first,” Stevie said. “If you’re not scared, we won’t be.”

  Scared? Of course I’m scared, Carole thought. But I can’t show it. We can do this. We’ve been practicing for weeks. We’ve done everything we can to make it good and to make it interesting. And besides, whatever we forget, our horses will remember. After all, they’ve done it as much as we have. Carole smiled to herself. Maybe we should just let them do it by themselves!

  “Okay, line up!” Max ordered them.

  “Yes, sir!” Carole said in her best Marine Corps daughter’s voice. “Saddle Club, let’s go give this audience a show!”

  Lisa brought her horse right behind Carole’s. Stevie followed close on her trail. They walked to the entrance of the indoor ring. The girls could see that there were about fifty people to watch them, though they were no doubt more interested in Dorothy DeSoto.

  Mrs. Reg stood in front of the girls, waiting to give them their signal to enter the ring. The girls and Mrs. Reg listened carefully for their cue.

  Max stood in the middle of the ring. He explained to the audience that three of his students had been working on a special demonstration, which they wanted to perform for Dorothy DeSoto. That sounded a lot better than explaining about Stevie’s dumb mistake, the girls thought.

  “And now I’d like you to welcome Carole Hanson, Stephanie Lake, and Lisa Atwood—The Saddle Club Drill Team!”

  “Hey! We’ve got a name!” Stevie exclaimed.

  “And I like the sound of it,” Carole added.

  “I can see it in lights,” Lisa joked.

  They didn’t have any more time to think about fame and glory, though. Just then, Mrs. Reg pushed the button on the sound system and the very familiar music of “The Stars and Stripes Forever” began. Mrs. Reg moved aside to let the girls pass. “Smile!” she said and then waved the girls into the ring.

  LISA COULDN’T BELIEVE the feeling she had as she entered the ring. She had a great big smile on her face, just like Mrs. Reg had told her, but everything was a blank. She could barely remember who she was, much less where she was, and even less what she was supposed to do.

  Carole, directly in front of her, headed off to the left as she reached the center of the ring. Then, as if on signal, everything came back to Lisa. She knew just what she was supposed to do. Now, she only hoped she could do it.

  Their first exercise was the cloverleaf. Each girl followed a three-circle pattern that made them cross in the center at practically the same time. The trick was to not have it be exactly the same time. That was a collision course.

  The horses trotted, almost in time to the music. That was the idea. The music, which seemed to the audience like a pleasant accompaniment, actually was very important to the riders and the horses. Lisa finished her first circle. Carole crossed first, then Lisa, then Stevie. And they didn’t even come near colliding.

  The audience clapped. Lisa could hardly believe it. But just because they managed one circle didn’t mean they could do all three that the exercise called for. Pepper was picking up speed. Lisa shortened her reins. Pepper shortened his stride, but it was too late. She was going to get to the intersection first. Lisa knew it would look silly if she reined her horse to a stop. Besides, Diablo seemed to be going slower. Lisa bit her lip in concentration, crossed her fingers that Carole would see what she was doing, and rode through the intersection. Carole winked at her. She’d done the right thing!

  After the third circle, the girls took their positions for their next exercise. As the audience applauded, Lisa prayed that it would go well. It was spirals and it was very hard.

  The Saddle Club Drill Team rode their horses to the edge of the ring, equally spaced from one another. They would circle the ring four times, making each circle smaller than the last. If they were very careful, the horses would stay the same distance from one another and the only time they would come close would be at the center of the ring.

  Lisa crossed her fingers and rammed her hard hat down on her head. She was determined. If this exercise wasn’t done perfectly, it just looked silly.

  Carole nodded. The music started and the horses began their trot. The music was a waltz, played on a calliope. They were supposed to remind the audience of a merry-go-round. Up and down, up and down, Lisa posted with the smooth motion of Pepper’s trot. She didn’t want to be too obvious about looking around at her friends, but Carole was in her line of sight and Carole was posting at almost exactly the same tempo as she was. It was working!

  While each circle got smaller, the horses miraculously remained the same distance apart from one another. Lisa knew that the audience was seeing something that looked like a simple exercise because they were doing it right. In fact, because of a horse’s naturally competitive spirit—catch up with the one in front of you—it was about as hard an exercise as there could be.

  Exactly as the music ended, the three horses were just about head to tail in their smallest circle in the center of the ring. All three girls were so proud of their job that they couldn’t stop grinning.

  Carole started to say something to Lisa and Stevie, but she couldn’t be heard over the applause.

  “Everything else is duck soup,” Carole whispered when the clap
ping stopped. “Pinwheel time!”

  Normally in a drill exercise, ranks of horses would form lines, the left half facing front, the right half facing to the rear, and move in a counterclockwise motion. The horses in the center would just about turn in place while the ones on the end would canter to keep up. With only three riders, that was impossible, but they’d adjusted the maneuver to suit their small numbers.

  Carole was the pivot, Lisa was to be next to her, Stevie on the end. Somewhere along the line, though, Comanche and Pepper seemed to have picked a fight with one another. Comanche didn’t want to let Pepper into the formation.

  “Come on!” Carole hissed, urging Lisa to bring Pepper up next to Diablo, but Comanche was already by Diablo’s side and didn’t want to let Pepper in.

  Comanche kicked.

  Pepper snorted.

  Carole groaned.

  This was not Lisa’s idea of duck soup.

  “Comanche!” Stevie said. Lisa could see her gripping her horse tightly with her calves, trying to show Comanche who was in charge. Lisa tried the same thing with Pepper. Pepper turned around and gave her a look that seemed to tell her to mind her own business.

  “This is my business,” Lisa hissed at her horse and gripped tighter. Obediently, Pepper tried to move up in between Diablo and Comanche.

  Comanche bucked.

  Pepper darted backwards.

  The unexpected motion made Lisa slip. She was near losing her balance and shifted her weight quickly. The audience went “Oh!”

  Lisa righted heself. The audience sighed, “Ah.”

  Lisa looked over to Max, hoping he would give them some help. Max was watching carefully, but there was no sign at all that he was going to come to their aid. Lisa could feel herself getting angry at him. After all, they were his students. He should help them!

  But Lisa knew that wasn’t the way it worked at all. It was Max’s job to teach them everything he could, and one of the things he’d taught his students was how to control their horses. He wasn’t going to interefere with the way they were doing their jobs. He was going to let them succeed on their own. And they would succeed. After all, Max had taught them.

  Lisa took her riding crop and touched Pepper gently on his flank. She almost never had to use a crop on Pepper, but now she did. A small reminder was all it took. He stepped forward with determination. Stevie had obviously come to the same conclusion. Lisa could see that she was putting pressure on Comanche’s left side to move over and make room for Pepper. The horse balked briefly, and Stevie tapped his flank with the crop. He stepped aside. Before Comanche could change his mind, Lisa made Pepper scoot between the two horses. The audience applauded. Lisa didn’t think they should have clapped then. The horses were just doing what they should have done in the first place.

  Carole nodded. The music began again and the girls began their self-styled pinwheel.

  Carole and Stevie each reached out a hand to Lisa, holding their reins in one hand. Lisa dropped both her reins, and held Carole’s and Stevie’s hands at shoulder height. When they signaled with their legs, the horses began moving. Diablo, the pivot horse in their pinwheel, turned in place. Pepper, next out on the pinwheel, moved slowly. Comanche, at the end of the pinwheel, had to move the farthest and the fastest. The girls only used their legs to guide their horses and they never had to let go of one another’s hands.

  The audience burst into applause and the girls felt giddy with joy. It worked—it really worked! When the music stopped, Lisa just couldn’t help it. She held her hands up on either side of her and Stevie and Carole gave her high fives at the same moment.

  Knowing the demonstration was over, Max stepped into the ring, clapping proudly for his students, and shook hands with each of them.

  “Nice job, girls. Really nice! All your work showed. Congratulations.”

  Usually a gigantic compliment from Max was “Not bad.” Lisa felt warm and happy all over. She could hardly wait until her parents saw the tape. They’d love it. She knew they would.

  Carole and Diablo began to head for the stalls. There would be a little break and then Dorothy DeSoto would do her demo. Lisa sighed with relief and joy and followed Carole.

  The two horses entered the stable area where the girls dismounted. Lisa patted Pepper hard to congratulate him and then hugged him around the neck. Carole was doing the same with Diablo.

  “What a threesome!” Lisa declared.

  “Yeah!” Carole said. “We were great. A trio that can’t be—” She paused. “Speaking of trios, though, where’s number three? What happened to Stevie?”

  The two girls dashed back to the entrance to the ring just in time to watch Stevie’s surprise.

  Stevie was leaning forward as she sat on Comanche. Her face was on the right side of his neck, where the audience could see it. Her hand reached toward the horse’s chin, out of sight of the audience.

  “You were a naughty boy, Comanche,” Stevie said loud enough to catch the attention of the audience in the ring. There was a smattering of laughter from the audience. Something was up and they knew it. They just didn’t know what, yet.

  Then, to everybody’s astonishment, the horse began “speaking.” Stevie turned her head so the audience couldn’t see her mouth moving, just Comanche’s. She dropped her voice and talked for her horse. “It was just a little horse play, Stevie,” he said.

  “Are you going to start that again?” she asked.

  “Sure, why not?” the “horse” retorted.

  “Because you’re supposed to be crossing the ring and going back to your stall now,” she told the horse.

  “Speaking of that,” he said, ignoring her suggestion, “do you know why the chicken crossed the road?”

  “Yeah, to get to the other side,” Stevie said.

  “Nope,” Comanche contradicted her. “To get a copy of The New York Times.”

  “I don’t get it,” Stevie said.

  “Neither do I,” Comanche told her. “I get The Washington Post!”

  The audience began giggling. From where Lisa and Carole stood, they could see that Stevie was making the horse “talk.” The audience certainly knew he wasn’t really talking by himself, but Stevie was doing such a good job of hiding it when she was talking for him that everybody almost believed it.

  “Very funny,” Stevie said.

  “Say, Stevie, did you hear about the guy who dug three holes in his front yard?”

  “No, I didn’t,” said Stevie.

  “Well, well, well,” the horse said.

  Stevie winced. “Ooh, I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

  “Splash,” he agreed.

  “You know, Comanche, these people here think that a horse and his rider are a perfect pair—”

  “Then they’ve never been saddled with the likes of you,” he retorted.

  “Cute,” she told him. “I bet you expect me to bridle at that sort of remark.”

  Lisa and Carole began giggling.

  “I can’t believe these awful jokes!” Lisa said.

  “Stevie specializes in them,” Carole said. “Hey, check out my dad! He and Stevie have the same weird sense of humor.”

  Lisa looked at the audience. There was Colonel Hanson, laughing so hard he was almost crying. “He’s really loving it, Carole,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Carole agreed.

  “He’s loving it about ten time more than my parents would be. You know, I think I’m glad they’re not here. They wouldn’t even get most of these jokes.”

  Carole put her arm around Lisa’s shoulder. “Things have a way of working out sometimes, you know.”

  “I guess they do,” Lisa said. “Thanks.”

  “Wanna bet?” Stevie was asking Comanche.

  “Sure, I’ll bet you twenty bucks.”

  “Not the kind of bucks you tried earlier,” Stevie said warily.

  The audience began laughing again. Comanche turned his head around to look at his rider. She just shrugged her shoulders.
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br />   Stevie dismounted and gave Comanche a hug. Then, trying not to grin while the audience clapped, she led him off into the stable area where her friends were waiting.

  “You were wonderful!” Lisa exclaimed.

  “And so was Comanche!” Carole joined in. “When did you think of doing that?”

  “Oh, it was all his idea,” Stevie said vaguely, pointing to her horse. “I just thought it would be fun.”

  “Well, it was. It was loads of fun,” Carole said. “And you were terrific!”

  “Nice job, girls,” Max told them. He was standing next to the same woman they’d seen in his office the day they’d asked him if they could begin the drill team again. She was holding the reins of a horse they didn’t recognize. It could only be Dorothy DeSoto!

  “I really enjoyed it all—even the talking horse,” Dorothy told The Saddle Club. “Max has certainly expanded his curriculum since I was one of his students!” she said, grinning.

  “Actually, the girls did most of it themselves,” Max said. “Except for the jokes. Comanche learned them all from me.”

  For a second, it looked as if Dorothy believed him. Then she burst into laughter.

  “All right, girls, go put those horses in their stalls quickly. I don’t want you to miss Dorothy’s demonstration, so you can finish bedding them down after the show is all over.”

  “We’ll hurry!” Carole promised.

  “Don’t worry,” Dorothy said. “I’ll wait for you.”

  The girls put their horses away and untacked them as quickly as they could. Within a few minutes, they were returning to the ring—this time as part of the audience. But there was no sneaking in. As soon as the audience saw them, they began applauding The Saddle Club Drill Team. Very pleased with themselves, the girls waved to their fans and then took seats to watch Dorothy’s performance.

  The music began. Dorothy had prepared a program that had her highly trained horse going through all the important movements of dressage. The horse followed nearly invisible commands. He seemed at one moment to be skipping, at another to be walking sideways. She got her horse to turn circles with his hind legs, leaving his front ones in place, and then to do the same thing in the reverse—moving his front legs in a circle around his hind legs. He trotted slowly. He trotted quickly. She got him to do a pace, which was like a trot, except that the horse’s legs moved together on each side, so that both left legs went forward, then both right. On some horses, that was a natural gait. When it wasn’t natural, it was very hard to teach. Then the horse cantered, first leading with one leg, then with the other. When he changed leads, it made him appear to be almost flying.