Stevie (8 page)

Welcome to My Life …

When morning came, I was still really worried about Dinah. Especially about that mysterious encounter with Jodi in the woods the night before.

“What really happened last night?” I asked her.

“Oh, I just got hit on the head with a falling icicle,” Dinah claimed.

I knew she was lying, which made me kind of angry. But I could tell that she was hurting, and she wasn’t in the mood to talk. So I could understand—sort of. Sometimes there are times when I don’t feel like talking to anyone, even my best friends. They understand almost everything—that’s why we’re best friends—but I guess nobody can understand every single thing about someone else. That’s why people just need to work things out on their own sometimes. I figured that was what was going on with Dinah right then, so I left her alone.

Actually, I ended up leaving her alone almost all day. I went collecting with Betsy again while Dinah stayed home. It wasn’t easy passing off Dinah’s behavior to her mother and Betsy, but I managed. Of course, I don’t believe in lying. Lying is wrong, and I would never lie in most situations, like at school. But this was an emergency. Anyway, after collecting, Betsy invited me to go skiing with her. I was excited about that, since I had never tried skiing before. But I wished Dinah could have come, too.

Later that day I stood at the top of the mountain on my skis, and THEN I FELL DOWN ON MY BUTT IN THE SNOW, AND WHEN I TRIED TO GET UP I FELL ON
MY FACE. THEN I FELL ON MY BUTT AGAIN. BECAUSE I’M A CLUMSY, DUMB GIRL WHO IS TOTALLY INFERIOR TO ALL BOYS, ESPECIALLY MY BROTHERS. THEY ARE THE BIGGEST GENIUSES IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE, AND THE COOLEST, TOO. THEY ARE SO FAR SUPERIOR TO ME IN EVERY WAY THAT I COWER IN THEIR PRESENCE, LIKE A WORM IN THE PRESENCE OF A SUPER-ADVANCED ALIEN RACE OF GENIUSES.

SO ANYWAY, THEN I TRIPPED AND FELL DOWN THE MOUNTAIN, AND MY SKIS FELL OFF, AND I WENT FLYING DOWNHILL SO FAST THAT I BECAME A GIANT SNOWBALL. I ROLLED AND ROLLED, AND WHEN I HIT THE BOTTOM I BUMPED MY HEAD SO HARD MY BRAIN FELL OUT INTO THE SNOW LUCKILY IT’S SO TINY THAT I COULD SCOOP IT UP WITH ONE FINGER AND SHOVE IT BACK INTO MY HEAD BY STICKING MY FINGER UP MY NOSE.

AND THEN I STARTED THINKING ABOUT MY SUPERHUMAN BROTHERS AND HOW MUCH I ADMIRE THEM. HOW COULD I EVER HOPE TO COMPETE WITH THREE INCREDIBLY GOOD-LOOKING, INTELLIGENT, AND

Okay, Phil, my idiot brothers have gone too far! It’s not enough that they have to make my life a living nightmare. Now they’ve stooped to sabotaging my schoolwork, too! I just got back from talking to Dinah (yeah, yeah, I know it’s long distance, but I figured my parents wouldn’t mind since it’s for school. And we only talked for forty-five minutes) and found them gathered around the computer, giggling like the big dorks they are. Naturally, I thought they were playing Awesome Jawsome. But no. They had hijacked my report and were typing in stupid stuff that passes for humor in their pea brains. Anyway, I chased them around the house a few times just to teach them a lesson, and now I’m back, getting ready to fix what they did.

By the way, I had another great idea to add more “substance” (that’s one of Lisa’s words, in case you couldn’t guess) to my report. Remember how I told you on the phone last night (or was it Tuesday night? I’m spending so much time working on this report that I can’t even keep track of time anymore!
Aaah!
) about how I want to come up with more unusual things to fill in my report? Well, I found this letter I wrote to Carole and Lisa while I was in Vermont, and that’s working out so well that I’ve been trying to come
up with more stuff like that. So I was thinking about how Adam Levine’s mother is a doctor, and that gave me a great idea. I’m going to ask her to write up a medical diagnosis for what happened to Dinah during my visit. I’ll ask her to throw in as many serious-sounding medical terms as she can. I figure that will add a lot of realism and stuff and make Miss Fenton realize that I’m serious about this. Details, details, details …

Speaking of realism, I’m starting to feel the tiniest bit guilty about something. I’m afraid I might be exaggerating some stuff, just a little, in my report. For instance, I might have made Jodi Hale sound a little bit meaner than she actually was in a few spots. I know she kind of deserves it, since she really did turn out to be a jerk. But I didn’t really know how much of a jerk she was yet at that point in the story. You know what I mean?

Oh well, maybe I’m getting worried about nothing. The important thing is to make the story clear and believable so that Miss Fenton understands exactly what happened. Right?

And it’s definitely important to make sure she understands. Because I was talking to some kids after school today, and one of them (a ninth-grader) had just failed his big biology test … and Miss Fenton assigned him to eight weeks of summer school! Just like that!!! She didn’t even give him a chance to explain. So now I definitely know that I’m lucky even to be doing this report (not that it feels like it when I’m hunched over the computer instead of riding or something else that’s fun) and that I’d better make darn sure it’s the best
report Miss Fenton has ever read in her entire life. Because I could never survive two whole months of summer school—let alone a whole summer without riding! Gulp!

Anyway, I’m getting closer to the part of my report about the fox hunt. So be prepared—I’ll definitely want your input! Maybe we can talk about it Friday night (oops, I mean tomorrow night—see what I mean about losing track of time?) when we all get together. By the way, my dad promised to drive me, Carole, and Lisa over to that pizza place in your town. Then we should be able to walk to the movie theater, right? Did you remember to ask A.J. if he can come? I hope he can—I haven’t seen him in ages! (Well, okay—since the fox hunt.) I’m just glad my parents finally agreed to let me go out. They’re so impressed with how hard I’ve been working on this report—not to mention the Aminus I got on my makeup history quiz—that they decided I’m not grounded anymore! :-)

Welcome to My Life …

I stood at the top of the mountain on my skis, looking down the steep, steep slope. Betsy had taught me the basics when we arrived. And I had learned (mostly by trial and error) that the first rule of skiing is Slide, don’t lift. So I thought I was ready.

I wasn’t. It must have taken us an hour to make it down the hill the first time. But I learned as I went, thanks to Betsy’s patient teaching, and before long I was schussing like a pro. Well, almost.

That was when Betsy told me she had something to show me.

“Let me show you this little side path,” she said. “You’re good enough now, and it is part of the the beginners’ trail.”

I followed obediently. At first I couldn’t even see any trail. All I saw was a row of fir trees with their snow-covered branches hanging all the way to the ground. Betsy went straight up to one of the branches, lifted it up, and went under. I followed.

As soon as I went under that branch, I felt as though I’d stepped into a magical kingdom. Suddenly there was total silence. The snowy tree branches around and above us created a large, silent hideaway, sort of like a natural cathedral. I was afraid to move—I didn’t want to shatter the dream and make this wonderful vision disappear.

Next Betsy showed me a rock, which she said she and Dinah called the palace throne. We sat there, viewing our silent, snowy kingdom, and talked.

But before I describe what we talked about, I wish to share something deeply personal. The specialness of the snow cathedral was something that I truly wish to express, and I think I can do that best through the medium of poetry.

I hope this poem gives you some idea about what I was feeling that day. I don’t mind saying, all the wise words of my English teachers through the years at Fenton Hall helped make me the poet I am today. I hope it also gives some indication of how full of poetry and literature I was on that trip, and how I was sort of doing my English homework in spirit, even if I hadn’t actually picked up
To Kill a Mockingbird
at that point. Isn’t Life itself one big classroom?

Anyway, Betsy and I sat in the snow cathedral talking about things—mostly skiing at first. She told me that every
body in her family—actually, just about everybody in Vermont—skis.

“What about horseback riding?” I asked her. “Are you all riders, too?”

“I guess so,” she replied. “Jodi and I have been riding for a long time.”

“She’s really good, isn’t she?” I commented, remembering what Dinah had said.

Betsy shrugged. “Sort of,” she said. “Personally, I think she’s more in love with the glamour of riding than she is with horses. She knows her stuff, but it’s like she almost doesn’t care.”

That made me think. Could Betsy really be describing the same person Dinah admired so much? It was hard to believe that two people—two close friends, even—could see someone in such totally different ways. I wondered if Betsy was just being hard on Jodi because they are sisters. I mean, occasionally I can be a teeny, tiny bit unfair to my brothers, just because they’re my brothers. (And incidentally, they can be the same way to me. Only worse, because they’re much less mature than I am.)

Betsy didn’t seem to want to talk about that, though, so I let it drop. Instead, we talked about how her parents were taking riding lessons. Her father even wants to learn how to jump!

“Mom mostly likes to go on trail rides, though,” she said. “Fortunately there are zillions of trails through the woods around here, so she doesn’t get bored.”

“Oh, I know there are,” I said.

Then I froze. I couldn’t believe what I had just said.

“You do?” Betsy turned to me, looking curious. “How?”

“Uh—um—well, yeah—ah …,” I said, or something to that effect.

I realized I had almost given away Dinah’s secret. I had almost told Betsy that Dinah and I had gone riding on Rocky Road Trail!

Luckily, I’m a fast thinker. (You’ve pointed that out yourself, remember, Miss Fenton?) “Uh, Dinah and I were talking about them last night. She told me there were zillions.”

Betsy didn’t suspect a thing. We went on to chat about other things, but I couldn’t help feeling a bit guilty. I liked Betsy. I didn’t like lying to her. Even for a good cause.

Anyway, our day on the slopes eventually came to an end, and I returned to Dinah’s house. As soon as I entered the kitchen, Mrs. Slattery pounced on me.

“Stevie, you’ve got to convince that girl to eat,” she said, looking worried. “I’m really starting to think this stomachache of hers may be something serious. She’s been holed up in her room all day.”

I bit my lip. It seemed that our little stomachache tale was going over a bit too well. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Slattery,” I said quickly. “I’m sure all she needed was this one more day of rest. I’ll go check on her right now.”

I took the stairs three at a time and hurried down the hall to Dinah’s room.

She was happy to see me. I guess she was pretty bored sitting around her room all day by herself when the rest of us were out having fun. I don’t blame her.

I filled her in on my fun day with Betsy. Then we got down to business. I told her what her mother had said. “So how
are
you, really?” I asked.

“More or less okay,” she said. “Fortunately, I’ve managed to keep my mother from noticing my face, but everything really hurts.”

“Let’s take a look,” I said.

I checked over all her injuries, from that horrible scrape on her face to the mess of bumps and bruises on her legs. I kind of felt like Judy Barker, the vet who takes care of the horses at Pine Hollow, checking over one of her patients.

I decided to go with that feeling. After all, I’m pretty good at tending to horses myself, even if I’m not a vet. And how different could human injuries really be from equine ones?

I decided that most of Dinah’s injuries would certainly heal on their own. But there was one thing that bothered me a little. It was a distinctly horseshoe-shaped bruise just above one knee. It was purplish and swollen and looked really disgusting and painful.

“I think I remember Goldie using that knee as a starting point for his hundred-meter dash,” Dinah joked weakly as I poked at her knee. “It’s hard to put weight on it.”

I pondered the problem for a moment. Of course, I already knew that the best thing would be to let a doctor take a look at it right away. But there was no way Dinah would go for that. Dr. Stevie would have to do the trick.

Luckily, I had just the thing. “You need a leg wrap,” I decided.

Dinah laughed. “You think I’m some kind of horse?”

“Not really,” I said. “But if you saw that kind of swelling on a horse, you’d wrap it, right?” I was kind of proud of myself for thinking of that. I hurried to the bathroom to retrieve an elastic bandage, and before long Dinah’s sore leg was wrapped up just as neatly as Max could ever ask.