Horse Sense (6 page)

The two girls strolled across the parking lot of the little shopping center. It wasn’t really a mall. It only boasted a supermarket, a few shoe stores, a drugstore, a
music store, a jewelry store, and the ice cream parlor, TD’s. If what you wanted after riding class was an icecream sundae, there was no place better than TD’s. Lisa paused at TD’s, but there was no sign of Stevie or Carole. Realizing they must have been delayed, she continued to walk with Estelle.

Together, the girls went into the jewelry store. Estelle spoke with the salesman for a long time, though Lisa couldn’t hear what she was saying. Lisa loved jewelry and always had fun looking at it. She could imagine a day when she might have long conversations with jewelers the way Estelle was, but for now, she satisfied herself with glancing at the costume jewelry section. She looked at the pins under the glass counter. There, in the center, was a pin with the silhouette of a horse head superimposed on a horseshoe. The horse’s ears were perked alertly, his mane brushed slightly by the wind. The whole effect was so pretty that it nearly took Lisa’s breath away. Somehow, that pin seemed to represent everything Lisa loved about horses. If only …

“Oh, this man can’t help me at all,” Estelle whined, interrupting Lisa’s thoughts. “I have wasted my time!”

“Not exactly,” Lisa consoled her, turning from the showcase with the horse-head pin. “We got to walk together and have a nice talk.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Estelle said, leading Lisa back onto the shopping center sidewalk. “You have to meet your friends now, no?”

“Oh, yes,” Lisa said, heading for TD’s. But even before
she entered the ice cream shop, she could see through the window that neither Stevie nor Carole was there yet. She wondered what had happened. How could she have missed them at Pine Hollow? She was just about certain they’d gone by the time she left.

“What’s the matter, Lisa?” Estelle asked.

“I’m looking for Stevie and Carole,” she explained. “We were supposed to meet here. I’m sure they’d left Pine Hollow by the time I did, so where are they?”

“Carole Hanson and Stevie Lake?” Estelle asked. Lisa nodded. “But I saw them go,” Estelle said. “Carole, she went off in the truck with that woman doctor, Judy is her name? And, then, Stevie, she saddled up the pony, Nickel, and was taking him out into the field. She had the most tremendous bag full of things, but I don’t know what was in it.”

Lisa got a deep sinking feeling. It was clear that both Carole and Stevie had completely forgotten The Club meeting they were supposed to have. Each was so wrapped up in her own special project that she didn’t even remember
Lisa’s
special project! Lisa was just about to explode with anger and hurt. How could her best friends let her down?

“So look at us now,” Estelle said brightly. “You came here to meet your friends, but they’re not coming. I came here to go to the jewelry store, but they did not have what I wanted! We are in the same pair of shoes!”

Lisa laughed at Estelle’s joke and she was glad for it. She swallowed hard and scrunched her eyes to hide
any possible tears. “Well, since neither of our plans worked out, how about some ice cream?”

“That’s a great idea,” Estelle agreed, and together they headed for TD’s.

Within a few minutes, they’d found a table and ordered their sundaes. Lisa was surprised to learn that Estelle wasn’t familiar with all the possibilities at an ice cream parlor.

“Don’t you have ice cream in France?” she asked.

“Of course we do, but we don’t have it so fancy as you do here—and I don’t know what these things are.” She lifted the menu and pointed. “Like what’s this ‘marshmallow fluff’?”

The way she said
fluff
made it sound more like
floof
. Lisa laughed.

Estelle seemed a little hurt. “I’m sorry,” Lisa said quickly. “It’s just that you make it sound so much better than it is! But it’s pronounced
fluff
,” she said, emphasizing the short
u
. Estelle tried it again and got it right. Lisa told her what it was.

“But it must be marvelous—sort of like meringue, eh?”

“Want to try it? They can add it on top of your hot fudge.”

Estelle’s eyes sparkled at the idea. Lisa stepped over to the counter and asked the waitress to add marsh-mallow fluff to one of the sundaes. Then she returned and the two girls talked.

Lisa found that talking to Estelle was fun. She had done so many exciting things in her life, and lived in
so many interesting places, that Lisa was almost jealous.

“Did I tell you about the princess who used to be in my class at boarding school?”

“Princess? A
real
princess?” Estelle nodded. “What country?” Lisa asked breathlessly.

“Oh, goodness, I’m not sure I remember. One of those small ones, you know?” Estelle told her.

Lisa didn’t know, but she told Estelle she did. It was one thing if a person needed to know what marsh-mallow fluff was. Anybody could need to know about that. But it was another thing altogether to need to be told about entire countries, even small ones. Lisa decided to cling to her ignorance rather than exhibit it.

Estelle went on to tell a story about how this girl had invited everybody in the class to her parents’ castle for the weekend, but it turned out that it was such a small estate that there wasn’t room in the castle for all the girls to have their own rooms. As the tale unfolded, Lisa was simply swept away. To her, it was like a movie come alive, a dream come true. She just loved listening to Estelle’s stories. What a life she’d lived—and how lucky Lisa was even to know her.

Before she knew it, she had an empty sundae dish in front of her, and the clock on the wall told her it was time to get home.

“I’ve got to go,” she said. “My mom will be expecting me.”

“Me too,” Estelle told her. “My chauffeur is picking
me up here in a little while. Would you like a ride home?”

Lisa was tempted. Really tempted. But her house was only a short walk and she really couldn’t wait any longer. “Another time,” she said.

They paid their check and left TD’s. Lisa set off for home at a quick pace. She’d had such a nice time with Estelle that, for an hour, she’d completely forgotten about Carole and Stevie and how much they had hurt her. She’d forgotten about how much she’d been looking forward to discussing her rules with them. Talking to Estelle was like being swept away in the fantasy land of a wonderful book. Everything about her was so different, and so exciting!

Lisa’s copy of the Club’s rules was in her tote bag. She hadn’t even taken it out at TD’s because there hadn’t been a meeting.

But there
had
been, she told herself. She’d called a meeting at TD’s and just because two people hadn’t showed up it didn’t mean there hadn’t been a meeting. There was nothing in the rules that said that everybody had to be there for a meeting. So, she would simply tell Stevie and Carole that the meeting had taken place without them and the rules had been voted into effect. Unanimously.

After all, that was true, wasn’t it?

T
HE NEXT MORNING
, Stevie slipped into the locker area of the tack room. She was really tired. After class yesterday, she’d spent about three hours trying to teach Nickel not to shy when he saw the Hula-Hoop twirl. The only thing she accomplished was getting him to shy as soon as he saw the thing, whether it was twirling or not. A Hula-Hoop race was definitely out. Today she’d try something with the baton from her closet. She couldn’t think of any use for the broken umbrella.

She took off her sneakers and pulled on her riding boots. A lot of the time Stevie liked to ride in jeans and low boots, but in the summer, when she was spending five or six hours a day on horseback, breeches and high boots, though hotter, were a lot more comfortable.
The high boots protected her legs from the straps and flaps on the saddle.

When her boots were on, she tried to shove her shoes and her boot hooks into her cubby, but there was something in it at the back, blocking the way. She leaned over to look into the knee-high nook. She couldn’t see anything, but she also still couldn’t fit her shoes in. It wasn’t until she got down on her hands and knees and peered at the back of the cubby that she saw, crumpled and torn, the papers that Lisa had left for her the other day.

She reached in and pulled them out. At the top it read:

That was when Stevie remembered that Lisa’s note called for a Saddle Club meeting at TD’s. She’d gotten so busy with Nickel that she’d forgotten all about the meeting! She sat on the bench, staring at the papers. There was a dull, empty feeling in her stomach. She’d let her friends down.

Just then, Carole came into the locker area.

“Oh, Carole, I’m so sorry about yesterday,” Stevie began, serious for once.

“What about yesterday?” Carole asked.

“The Club meeting at TD’s …”

Carole looked blank for a second, then gasped. “Oh, no!” she said. “I forgot all about it. What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Stevie said. “That’s what I’m sorry about. I wasn’t there.”

“You weren’t? I wasn’t either. I went over to the stable with Judy to check on that newborn foal. She was afraid the filly was getting sick, but it turned out she was okay. I looked for you to see if you wanted to come along, but I couldn’t find you.”

“Yeah, well, I was pretty busy too, planning the gymkhana, but that means we left Lisa out in the cold. Unless maybe she forgot, too.”

“No way, considering how excited she was about those rules. Boy, I feel like a worm! Let’s see if we can find her.”

“Yeah, let’s.”

“Oh, Stevie!” It was Mrs. Reg, calling from her office off the tack room. “Come in here a moment, will you?”

“Sure, just a sec,” Stevie called back. Then she turned to Carole. “Listen, you find Lisa and tell her how sorry we are. We can have a meeting at my house after drill practice this afternoon, okay? I’ve got to talk to Mrs. Reg. I’ll see you both in class.”

“I’ll tell her, but I still feel like a worm.”

“Well, she knows how busy we’ve both been—”

“Yeah, but still …”

“Stevie!” Mrs. Reg called.

“Coming.”

Carole went in search of Lisa. Stevie stepped into Mrs. Reg’s office and sat down on the tack box in front
of her desk. “So, now, tell me,” Mrs. Reg began. “How’re you doing in making up games and races?”

That was another thing Stevie wasn’t feeling too good about at the moment. So far, this day hadn’t been exactly terrific. “To tell you the truth, Mrs. Reg, not so well. I’ve been trying to come up with some really original ideas. I spent a lot of time trying to make up a game with a Hula-Hoop, but that just spooked Nickel, and if he spooks, most of the other ponies will too. Then I tried a marshmallow game. No luck. I was sure I could get something going by riding on the saddle backward, but that only got Nickel confused—and me bruised! Finally, I’ve been working on something to do with Laser Tag. It’s going to be wonderful, I’m sure, but the trouble is, I don’t have a Laser Tag set to use yet. So, all in all, not so hot.”

“How about an egg-and-spoon race?” Mrs. Reg asked brightly.

Stevie couldn’t believe it. Every time she talked to someone about the gymkhana, all anybody ever suggested was an egg-and-spoon race. “Everybody already knows about egg-and-spoon races. I want to do something different, something interesting, something
fun
! Isn’t that what Max wants, too?”

“Max wants a good set of games,” Mrs. Reg said. “That doesn’t necessarily mean they have to be so unusual that nobody can do them! Use your horse sense, Stevie,” Mrs. Reg urged.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Reg,” Stevie said. “I’m working on something with a baton that will be lots of fun. You’ll see.”

“Yes, I’m sure I will,” Mrs. Reg said. “And I put a dozen eggs in the fridge if you want to give that a try, okay?”

Just then, the bell sounded. “Hey, class is about to start and I’ve still got to tack up Comanche. I’ll talk to you next week again, Mrs. Reg.”

“Okay,” Mrs. Reg agreed. “By then, you should have a pretty good idea of the games you want to include, and you and I can start to plan a schedule and figure out how much time to allow and how to award points for prizes.”

Schedule? Points? Prizes? How could they possibly do all that? Stevie had a growing awareness that she was going to have to move faster and work harder to make up the games if Mrs. Reg expected to plan a schedule and point system next week. That would mean another couple of hours on Nickel over the weekend. But how could she work harder than she was already working? It seemed impossible, for her and for Nickel.

Poor pony
, she thought, sighing, as she headed for Comanche’s stall with his tack.
Poor me
.

L
ISA ALMOST ALWAYS
felt happy when she was riding. She’d gotten to like just about everything to do with it. She loved her clothes, the sleek breeches, the tall boots with the rich shine. She’d even gotten over being self-conscious about the hard hat they had to wear. She had only had to fall off once to appreciate how it could really be a lifesaver. When she’d first gotten
her brand-new riding outfit, she’d thought it was silly and noticed how other people, even riders, stared at her. She knew now that was because everything had been so new that it sort of stuck out. Now her riding clothes showed wear—marks on her boots, smudges on her hat.
That
showed she was a real rider and she was proud of those marks and smudges.