Stevie (23 page)

I ran into Michael a little later. He loaned me a quarter.

It was too weird. My brothers were being nice to me. Something was definitely up.

Meanwhile, although I didn’t know it at the time, my two loyal best friends were plotting against me. Actually, to be fair, they thought they were trying to help me. They were worried that the battle with my brothers might somehow affect my riding privileges or something like that. They tend to worry more about things like that than I do, I think. But they mean well.

So they were spending a lot of time trying to figure out how to help me. That’s our Saddle Club creed, as you know. So I guess they thought it was their duty.

Unfortunately, they’re far too trusting and naive ever to hope to outwit my dastardly brothers. To begin with, they were working under the assumption that those three monsters are actually normal human beings. Poor, innocent Carole and Lisa … But more on that later.

I was having my own problems figuring out what my brothers were up to. Besides that, I still had to deal with everyday problems like Veronica diAngelo. She approached me in the cafeteria. I was a little distracted at the time, since my brothers had just offered to go and find me some lunch to replace mine, which I’d left at home that morning. I was trying to figure out whether they were more likely to pick some half-eaten food out of the garbage or find me something even more disgusting in the biology lab.

Veronica’s arrival interrupted these thoughts. “Hi, Stevie!” she said sweetly. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did—and that’s your limit,” I snapped. I know that wasn’t very polite, but I wasn’t in a very polite mood just then.

Anyway, Veronica didn’t take offense. Instead she laughed as if it were the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “You’re so funny, Stevie!” she exclaimed.

I just stared at her in amazement, wondering if aliens had come down to earth and replaced her personality with a nice one.

She didn’t notice my stare. “What I wanted to ask,” she said, “is what happened between you and your brothers? I mean, you guys fight all the time, but what did they do to you that was so bad you decided to put those signs in the girls’ room?”

“It’s a family matter, Veronica,” I said. There was no way I was going to tell her about that dinner with Phil.

Just then Lorraine Olsen (who also rides at Pine Hollow) sat down next to me. “What’s up between you and your brothers?” she asked me.

I launched into a detailed answer to her question, explaining how my brothers had made fun of the fox hunt, Phil, and me. Meanwhile, I watched Veronica out of the corner of my eye, hoping she could appreciate the irony (another term I learned in English class, by the way) of my telling Lorraine what I had just refused to tell her.

I had just gotten to the part about the boys making fun of the mock hunt when Alex arrived. “Here you go, Stevie,” he said, offering me a lunch bag.

I accepted it, mostly because I was curious to see exactly what hideous items he and the others had come up with. I peered into the bag as Alex hurried away and disappeared into the lunchtime crowd.

A sandwich was inside. Bologna and cheese on white. With mayo. Just the way I like it. I guessed that it had come from Michael’s lunch, since that was his favorite sandwich, too. There was also some apple juice—Chad’s drink. And an orange—Alex’s favorite. I was confused. Each of my brothers had contributed something he really liked to my lunch. That was odd. Very odd.

I spent the rest of the lunch period pondering the situation. Could it be? Could my brothers really
not
be mad about what I’d done? Could they have accepted it and moved on?

It seemed impossible. But I was starting to wonder.…

I hadn’t come any closer to figuring it out by the time Saturday rolled around. And brothers were the last thing on my mind as I arrived at Pine Hollow bright and early for the mock hunt. My friends and I—along with the other riders from Horse Wise and Cross County—were properly dressed in riding pants and boots, white shirts and ties, and jackets, as well as our usual hard hats. There were more than forty people participating in the hunt, so it was a pretty wild scene that morning, with everyone scrambling to get themselves and their horses ready on time.

But finally everyone was ready, and Max and Mr. Baker called for our attention.

“I am now ready to assign parts to all of you,” Max announced. “Most of you will be in the field, but a few of you will have special jobs. First of all, we need a junior master of the hunt. This job is going to the person who has been the
most serious student of foxhunting—the person who worked hardest at understanding all aspects of it.”

Being junior master sounded like fun, but I was pretty sure Max would never pick me for the job. Like a few other people, Max has the mistaken impression that I could never be a serious student of anything, except maybe dressage or practical jokes. I wondered if he would give the job to Carole. I suspected he wouldn’t, since she had started off knowing more about foxhunting than the rest of us and so hadn’t worked that hard at learning about it lately. That left Lisa—the perfect choice.

Max was still speaking. “… and that person is Lisa Atwood.”

I cheered loudly as Lisa grinned modestly and thanked Max.

Then Max went on to name a few of the other positions. Phil was chosen to be the huntsman. Carole was one of the five whippers-in. He also assigned six or seven riders to play the hounds.

“And now we come to the fox,” Max said at last. “For this, we needed to find somebody who could be wily, clever, devious, cunning, sneaky, shrewd, sly, and deceitful.” He paused, and I glanced around, trying to figure out who was left who would fit that description. I was surprised to find that absolutely everyone there was looking straight back at me!

Carole started giggling. So did Lisa. Within seconds, all forty riders were laughing.

I blushed. “
Moi?
” I asked, trying to sound innocent.

“If the shoe fits,” Max remarked with a laugh. Then he started to tell us something about a map, when a loud, whiny voice interrupted him.

“Re-ed!” it shouted. “I need your help! Where are you?”

It was Veronica, of course. Late, of course. And, of course, she expected Red O’Malley to tack up her horse, Garnet, for her. Veronica never does any of her own stable chores if she can help it.

Red excused himself and went to tack up Garnet while Veronica joined the group of riders. I was sure Max would have made her go tack up Garnet herself, but he probably thought it was more important for her to hear what he had to say.

“As I was saying,” he continued, “I have made up a map, which all riders should carry with them. There are a few farmers who have specifically asked us not to ride on their land, and we
must
respect their wishes. Do you all understand?”

Everybody nodded.

“Okay, then, I think it’s about time for our fox to get going, so all you animals, come get your ears.”

I was surprised when Max pulled out a bag full of headbands with fake ears sewn on. When I saw what the hounds were going to wear, I wrinkled my nose. They looked kind of silly.

My own ears, on the other hand, were a different matter. They were orange, and pointy, and furry—and absolutely adorable! I pulled them on proudly over my helmet. When Phil saw me, he let out a loud whistle.

“That’s a wolf whistle,” I joked. “Totally wrong for a fox.”

“Well, let’s see just how good a fox you are,” he said. “I can promise you, you haven’t got a chance against an awesome huntsman like me.”

I grinned. I recognized a challenge when I heard one. “We’ll see,” I told him. “We’ll just see!”

Then it was time for me to get started. Max explained that I had two jobs. The first was to try to avoid being captured. The second and even more important job was to lead everybody on a ride that would be fun.

“Fun is my middle name!” I told him.

“Sometimes I think it’s your first and last names, too,” Max said. I wasn’t absolutely sure he meant it as a compliment, but I decided to take it as one.

Max told me I would have a ten-minute head start before the other riders came after me. He handed me a bag of confetti and told me it was “scent.” I had to drop a handful of the confetti every five minutes so the “hounds” would have a trail to follow.

“Gotcha,” I agreed, dropping my first handful of confetti right then and there. Then Topside and I headed for the woods at a brisk trot.

My mind was already racing with the possibilities. Max was counting on me to be the wiliest of foxes, and I wasn’t going to disappoint him. I urged Topside through the woods quickly, dropping my confetti scent just as I was supposed to do.

A plan was already brewing in my mind. I planted some confetti on the trail leading into a wooded hillside where there were lots of caves and gullies and other hiding places.
I knew they were there, and I knew that Carole and Lisa (and probably most of the other Pine Hollow riders) knew they were there, too. I figured if they thought I was in there, they would spend a really long time searching every possible hiding spot. But they wouldn’t find me in a single one.

I grinned. “Let’s get going!” I told Topside, feeling very pleased with my deception. I followed the trail I had taken toward the hillside in reverse, being careful to drop my confetti on the exact same spots where I had dropped it on the way in. That way, the hounds and huntsman would see the confetti, but they wouldn’t realize they were seeing a double dose.

The only tricky part was getting to the creek before I had to drop any more confetti. I meant to go into the creek and stay there, following it all the way back to the field. That way, when I dropped my handfuls of confetti, it would float downstream in the water and the other riders would never see it.

I almost laughed aloud when I thought of it. I had to be the cleverest fox any fox hunt had ever seen!

“Well, the cleverest human one, anyway,” I told Topside, who didn’t seem the least bit impressed.

The plan went perfectly. I reached the creek safely and was well on my way before I heard the distant sounds of the other riders approaching. I grinned and urged Topside forward a little faster through the shallow water.

Once we were a bit farther downstream, I allowed Topside to choose his own pace. There was no real hurry now—my
friends and the others would be occupied for quite some time on that hillside.

Eventually we reached the edge of the field. Actually, it was the first of several sizable open fields lying between me and Pine Hollow, a little less than a mile away. I had to make sure the area was empty before I entered it. I didn’t want someone to spot me now, not after all my brilliant planning.

I scanned the fields carefully. There was no sign of any other riders. I clucked to Topside, and we moved forward.

“Okay, boy,” I told my horse. “We don’t want to blow this now. We’re going to have to do this fast.”

He snorted, and I took it as agreement. Reaching into my bag, I dropped one last handful of confetti. At almost the same time, I urged Topside forward.

Topside responded immediately, swinging into a trot that quickly turned into a canter and then a full-fledged gallop. “
Yeeee-ha
!” I whispered, not wanting to yell and risk attracting attention.

There was a fence separating the first field from the second. I aimed Topside straight toward it, and he jumped it cleanly and easily like the champion he is. A few seconds later, we approached another fence.

Suddenly I realized that we had a problem. “Oops,” I said. “That’s Mr. Andrews’s land. We’re not allowed to go that way.

I knew Topside couldn’t hear me, let alone understand me. I was really talking more to myself. It was annoying to
have to make a detour now, especially when I could almost taste my victory. But I knew I had no choice. Some people might think I have no trouble at all breaking rules, but all kidding aside, Max’s rule about other people’s land was sacred. I didn’t even consider breaking it for a second.

I turned Topside sharply to the right and skirted Mr. Andrews’s land, going clean around it. Then I turned again, once more aimed straight for the stable.

That was when I heard it.

“Help!”

I pulled Topside to a walk. Had it been my imagination?

“Help! Help!” the voice came again. A young girl’s voice.

“Where are you?” I called. Following the sound of the girl’s replies, I quickly spotted her. It was May Grover, one of the younger riders. She was sitting in the grass with tears streaming down her cheeks.

I hurried over and dismounted. “What happened?” I asked the little girl.

“My pony threw me,” May said. “One of the big girls was supposed to look after me, but she just rode on. She didn’t even notice.”

I grimaced. I was pretty sure I knew who the “big girl” was—Veronica diAngelo. She’s the only member of Horse Wise who would be that irresponsible.

I checked May over, and luckily she didn’t seem to be seriously hurt. She was just upset at having been thrown. I comforted her as best I could, then helped her to her feet.

“I’ll find your pony for you,” I promised her.

“You’d do that for me?” May asked, looking surprised.

“Of course,” I replied.

“But you’re the fox!”

I had been so concerned about her that I’d almost forgotten about that. But her words gave me an idea. “You know foxes sometimes travel in pairs, right?” I said.

May nodded. “Max says two foxes are called a brace of foxes.”

“You’ve been studying,” I accused her.

May smiled proudly. “I wanted to know everything,” she explained.

“Then you’ll make a great partner for me,” I said. I climbed back aboard Topside and hoisted May onto the saddle in front of me. Then we went looking for her pony.

It didn’t take long to find him. He was nibbling on some grass behind a small stand of trees nearby. Since May seemed comfortable sitting in front of me, I left her there and led the pony beside Topside. All parties seemed perfectly happy with that arrangement.

Then we headed for Pine Hollow once again, May giggling as I carefully explained my foxy strategy to her. We had almost reached the paddock gate when something made me look back over my shoulder. It might have been a noise, or just a hunch. Either way, I spotted Veronica diAngelo waving wildly and screaming triumphantly as she rode toward us at breakneck speed.