Show Jumper (6 page)

A
T SIX-THIRTY IN
the morning, Pine Hollow was usually a peaceful place. Few riders ever made it to the stable at that hour, and Red and Max were often the only people awake for morning chores. This Friday morning at six-thirty, the scene at the stable was completely different—one of constant activity and a lot of running around, mostly by Stevie, who was trying to coordinate the final loading of equipment and horses. The Pine Hollow horse trailer, hitched to Max’s van, was parked in the driveway. The girls had cleaned it and loaded it with hay the day before.

Carole and Lisa were in the stable, bandaging the horses’ legs and throwing blankets over them to protect them for the long ride. Max was discussing some last-minute
business with Red, who was taking over the Saturday lessons while Max was away. Stevie, holding a clipboard with a checklist attached to it, was scannng the items in the trailer and marking them off on her list.

Although The Saddle Club had packed most of the tack and equipment into the trailer the night before, Stevie still wanted to make one final check that all the essentials were there. What Veronica defined as necessary, however, took up an entire stall of her own. Stevie confirmed, with disgust, that Veronica had no fewer than four tack trunks—Carole and Lisa had only used one each—and she also knew that Veronica’s trunks were probably loaded with extra saddles, bridles, and other tack that she wouldn’t even use at the show. Stevie had also been expected to load two bulging suitcases into the van for Veronica—suitcases stuffed with her extra riding outfits. Stevie did these things because she didn’t have time to argue. Besides, she knew Veronica was going to get her comeuppance soon. That was enough to make Stevie smile while she lugged and loaded.

In addition, Veronica had demanded that Stevie find room for the special feed that she had insisted Max buy for Danny. Max was an expert on horse care and feed, and in the two weeks before the Macrae, he had helped The Saddle Club determine the balance of grain and
hay that would maximize Samson’s and Starlight’s energy for the show. But Max’s expertise wasn’t enough for Veronica. She had pushed him to order the most expensive feed from his supplier, even though he had advised her that it wasn’t necessary, and she had insisted that several bags of it be carted along to the Macrae.

After inspecting the van one last time, Stevie went into the stable, where Carole and Lisa were waiting with the horses. “Have you checked over your personal gear bags?” she asked them sternly.

Carole and Lisa nodded soberly.

“Okay then,” Stevie said briskly. “Let’s do a last-minute check of your gear. I’ve already inventoried the tack and grain in the van. Hair nets?”

“Check,” answered Carole and Lisa together.

“Boot polish?”

“Check.”

“Boots?”

“Check.”

“Hard hats?”

“Check.”

“Jackets?”

“Check.”

After five minutes, Stevie marked off the final item on her list with a flourish. “Well,” she said cheerfully, “that’s everything.”

Carole and Lisa looked at each other, then at Stevie, in complete awe. “I think she’s had a personality transplant,” Lisa said to Carole. “I’ve never seen her this … this …”

“Together?” finished Stevie, grinning. “Let me tell you a little secret. I’ve always been this organized. I just keep my organizational skills hidden when you’re around, that’s all. If I were this organized all the time, you’d confuse me with yourself. We couldn’t have that, now, could we?”

Laughing, the three girls led Samson, Starlight, and Danny outside and loaded them one by one onto the horse trailer. After closing the gate of the trailer, they climbed into the backseat of the Pine Hollow van and waited for Max to finish talking to Red. Stevie, unconcerned by the early hour, opened a bag of cookies and offered it around. After hearty refusals from Carole and Lisa, she began munching.

Lisa looked at her watch. “Where’s Veronica?” she asked.

Stevie laughed. “Oh, didn’t you know?” she said. “Veronica isn’t riding with us. She’s flying to Philadelphia and then taking a limo to the show. She’s going to meet us there. Darn,” she said, suddenly frowning. “I should have found out who her driver was and given him the wrong directions to the Macrae!”

The thought of Veronica lost in the backwoods of
Pennsylvania in her ultraluxurious limousine made the group dissolve in laughter. When they had recovered, Stevie said, “Actually, we don’t need Veronica to get lost before the show. She’s already lost the competition, thanks to you two and Starlight and Samson.”

Max climbed into the driver’s seat of the van. “All set?” he asked, turning to the three girls. They nodded, and Stevie gave him a thumbs-up sign. “You’re sure you haven’t forgotten anything?” he asked, concerned. “We don’t want to have to borrow or buy anything once we get there.”

“Like a horse?” Stevie asked brightly. Max chuckled, and after Stevie showed him her checklist, he gave her an approving smile and asked no more questions.

Lisa looked at her watch again and frowned. “I wonder where my mother is,” she said. “She said she was coming to see us off, but I guess she decided to see me at the show.”

Mrs. Reg opened the door and got into the front passenger seat. After Max had found out that Veronica wasn’t going in the van, he had invited his mother to ride along with the group instead of taking a separate car. She turned around in her seat and smiled at Lisa. “I think there’s someone who wants to say good-bye to you,” she said.

Lisa looked out the window and saw her mother. She stuck her head out and waved good-bye. “Bye, Mom!” she called out. “See you at the Macrae!” Her
mother, she knew, was planning to leave soon and meet them at the show.

Mrs. Atwood waved in return. “Good luck!” she called.

Lisa was touched by her mother’s gesture—that is, until her mother said, “I know you’ll win, honey, especially with that new outfit!” Then Lisa couldn’t help it—she rolled her eyes at Carole and Stevie. They grimaced understandingly. Parents just didn’t get it sometimes.

Max started the engine and pulled out of the driveway. They were off to the Macrae!

T
HE FIRST HOUR
of the ride passed smoothly. In the front seat Max and Mrs. Reg talked business about Pine Hollow. In the backseat the three girls laughed and joked around. Not only had Stevie remembered to check all the tack and equipment in the van, she had also remembered to bring games for the long ride—a backgammon board with magnetic pieces, a deck of cards, and other things. In fact, she had packed so many games and snacks that the van’s backseat was quite crowded. Mrs. Reg, upon seeing the clutter asked with a twinkle in her eyes, “Are you sure you didn’t forget anything, Stevie? Like maybe a volleyball net, a Ping-Pong table, and the contents of your refrigerator at home?”

The three girls took turns playing games and listening
to music; each of them had a Walkman. But mostly they talked about the Macrae—what the show would be like, whom they would get to see.

Lisa was trying to ignore the queasy feeling in her stomach. She wondered if it was caused by the doughnuts she had eaten for breakfast. Caroled father, Colonel Hanson—an early riser thanks to his military career—had volunteered to take the group over to Pine Hollow that morning. Although he had offered to treat them to a hearty breakfast, the three girls had wanted to get to the stable so badly that they had only stopped for doughnuts on the way. Stevie and Carole had eaten three doughnuts apiece and appeared to be suffering no ill effects. In fact, Stevie had already polished off the bag of cookies she had opened and was just starting on some potato chips. Carole was complaining that Stevie was getting crumbs all over the backgammon board, but Stevie serenely ignored her and continued to crunch away.

The sick feeling in her stomach felt worse than doughnuts, Lisa decided. She was starting to recognize the signs of a nervous stomachache. She always felt this way before a big event, like a dance performance or a piano recital or an important test: sort of hollow inside, with a cold feeling in the very bottom of her stomach.

After another hour passed and there was no improvement in her stomach, Lisa finally decided to share
her feelings with Carole and Stevie. “I feel sick,” she said suddenly.

Carole and Stevie, in the middle of an electronic game of Battleship, looked up. “Sick how?” Carole asked, immediately concerned. “Are you feeling feverish?”

“Aching bones?” added Stevie. “Stuffy nose?”

“No, just my stomach,” Lisa said. “Sick the way I feel before a test or a ballet recital. Sick as if something bad is going to happen to me. Do you think it’s just nerves?”

“Definitely,” Carole said reassuringly. “Before my first big horse show, I felt exactly the same way.”

“I threw up before my first big horse show—twice,” Stevie added helpfully. Carole gave her a grossed-out look but continued comforting Lisa.

“You just have to keep telling yourself that this is just a horse show,” she said. “Even though it’s one of the big ones, it’s still just a horse show. You’ve done this before.”

Lisa gave her a doubtful look. “The Macrae Valley Open is
just
a horse show?” she echoed. “I don’t think so.” She began to look even greener than before.

“Do you want some antacid tablets?” Stevie asked, picking up her clipboard. “I packed a first-aid kit.” She rummaged around in a bag on the floor. As she offered the tablets to Lisa, who took one gratefully and popped
it in her mouth, she intercepted an amazed look from Carole, “What?” she said.

“You really didn’t leave anything out, did you?” Carole said. “I think all your hard work deserves a sundae at TD’s when we get back—anything you want, our treat, and we promise not to make faces when you place your order.”

“You’ve got a deal,” said Stevie, shaking Carole’s and Lisa’s hands.

Max’s voice interrupted their conversation. “Lisa, take a deep breath and look out the window,” he said. “Horse show nerves are completely normal. Every rider, at one point or another, feels nervous.”

“I remember this one rider,” Mrs. Reg said dreamily, “a really talented rider, one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

The three girls exchanged glances. Mrs. Reg was famous for her enigmatic stories—most of which had a lesson buried in them.

“So he was a great rider, and …,” Carole prompted.

“Even though he was a really terrific rider,” continued Mrs. Reg, “with lots of talent and a promising horse, the prospect of his first national horse show almost paralyzed him with fright. Oh, he had competed a little bit around the local circuit—little country shows, nothing much. Always took the blue ribbon. But on the day of his first show, he wouldn’t get out of bed.”

“Did he oversleep? Did his alarm clock somehow
break?” Stevie asked sympathetically. Stevie’s alarm clock sometimes mysteriously refused to go off, and as a result she frequently overslept. She always claimed that she had set the alarm the night before but it had somehow turned itself off before the morning.

“Well, he said he was sick,” said Mrs. Reg. “But I knew better. He was scared. He was going from being a big fish in a little pond to a little fish in a big pond. And he was so frightened that he
did
look sick that morning—white as a ghost, shaking.”

“Did he miss the show?” asked Lisa.

“No, no,” said Mrs. Reg, smiling. “I managed to persuade him to go and talk to his horse before the show. I told him that his horse deserved an explanation as to why they weren’t going. He thought I was crazy, but he went and did it—he was used to my crazy suggestions. And he changed his mind and went to the show.”

Again, Carole, Lisa, and Stevie exchanged glances. Mrs. Reg’s stories, besides being instructive, could also be obscure and difficult to understand. “I talk to Starlight all the time,” said Carole at last, “but I don’t think he’s ever talked back—at least, not in words.”

“Exactly,” said Mrs. Reg. “When this young man went and talked to his horse, he had to explain to him that he was too frightened to ride in the horse show. And then he looked at his horse, who had just gone through weeks of training and grooming for the show and had done it all in grand style. His horse looked the
picture of health—lively, alert, and ready to go! And he realized that all their hard work—both his work and his horse’s—would be wasted if he let his fear get the better of him. So for the love of his horse, he went ahead and competed.”

“How did he do?” Stevie asked anxiously. She, along with Carole and Lisa, had become completely absorbed in the story.

“He won the blue ribbon,” Mrs. Reg said gently. “He rode better than he ever had before. And he went on to win lots of blue ribbons and cups. In fact, when he didn’t have that sick feeling in his stomach, he sometimes did worse in a show than when he did have the feeling. Sometimes fear helps a rider reach new levels. As long as you don’t let it keep you from doing something at all, fear can be turned into success.”

The Saddle Club thought about the story for a few minutes. Max appeared to be concentrating on the road, and Mrs. Reg lapsed into silence. But out of the corner of her eye, Carole saw Max turn his head ever so slightly and wink at his mother. Light suddenly dawned. “Max,
you
were that rider in the story, weren’t you?” Carole asked.

“Will you look at the time!” Max said, pretending not to hear her question. “We’ve polished off another hundred miles. We’ll be there in no—”

The van jerked. From the back, the group could hear a distressed neigh from Samson. Max frowned, braked
gently, and drove very slowly in the right lane. “I think we’ve got a flat,” he said tersely. “I’ve got to take this exit—maybe we can find a gas station where I can change the tire with someone’s help.”

Once the van eased down the exit ramp, a gas station appeared right away. Heaving a sigh of relief, Max pulled into the station and parked the van and trailer. He turned to face the girls. “We’ve got to unload the horses,” he said. “It’ll be easier to jack up the van without a full load—and anyway, the motion of the jack would only make them nervous.”

The three girls promptly got out of the van and went around to the back. First they unloaded Danny and then Starlight. At the gas pumps, other drivers who were filling up their cars smiled at the sight of the horses appearing from the back of the van. Three children popped their heads out of a nearby station wagon and started squealing and pointing at the horses. “Look, Mommy, horsies!” Carole heard one of them say. “Can we play with them? Can we go for a ride?”