by Kate Lattey
When it was almost dark, I led the ponies back to their yards. I was about to leave when I noticed that Buck’s water bucket was only half full, and decided I might as well top it up. I grabbed another bucket and filled it at the tap, then lugged it back and poured it into his big blue tub. He watched me, but didn’t move in to drink. He wasn’t a great drinker when he was away from home, and we had to keep an eye on him to make sure he stayed hydrated. He’d had a tube of electrolytes after his class, but he still needed to drink.
“C’mon Buckaroo,” I said, then dipped my hand into the bucket and splashed it. Buck blinked lazily, then took a step towards me. “Good boy.”
I splashed the water again, then flinched and pulled my hand out of the water as I felt a sharp pain on the side of my hand. Blood was trickling from the small cut, and I looked at it more closely, then back at the bucket. Buck was right behind me now, and he lowered his head towards the water as I pushed my hand back in and swirled it around, wondering what had caused my injury.
It didn’t take me long to get another cut, but this time I managed to get hold of the culprit. The piece of glass was almost the length of my finger, thin and sharp. Buck dropped his lips to the surface of the water and started to suck, and I pushed his head out of the way quickly.
“No! Get out of there!”
Offended, he backed away and then went to stand on the other side of the yard, glaring at me for leading him to water and not letting him drink. But I had bigger things on my mind. Why was there broken glass in my pony’s water bucket?
I dragged the bucket out of his stable and emptied it carefully, making sure to get rid of all the glass, then sifted through the bedding until I was convinced that there was nothing sinister lurking in there either. Skip’s water and bedding was fine, but I triple-checked it as well. Nothing.
It must have been an accident. Maybe the person in the yard next door had broken a bottle and it had fallen into Buck’s water without them noticing. Nobody would have done that on purpose, no matter how much they hated me, right? They wouldn’t hurt my pony. Buck was well-known on the circuit, and everyone liked him, even if they couldn’t stand me.
It was an accident. It must have been.
I almost managed to convince myself, but when I woke up the next morning and went to check on the ponies, I discovered that I’d been wrong.
It had definitely been done on purpose.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I suppose I should have seen it coming. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t the worst that could have happened, and the ponies weren’t harmed. Not really. Buck’s rugs being stripped off overnight and dumped in a water trough had left him cold and shivering, but it wouldn’t cause him any serious damage.
And Skip would still be able to jump without his mane, or half of his tail, but that didn’t make any of it okay.
Dad was fuming, storming around the show grounds with concerned officials in tow, demanding that they find out who did this to my ponies. I hadn’t even told him about the glass, and I definitely wasn’t going to now. Everyone was giving him filthy looks as he marched around in a rage. If it had been anyone else that it’d happened to, they would’ve received all the sympathy in the world. But it was us, and we’d been the perpetrators once, so what right did we have to demand justice?
Part of me understood that they felt that way. But as I carefully snipped away the last straggly remnants of Skip’s beautiful mane, and tried not to look at the tail that now ended several inches above his hocks, I hated them. I hated them with a passion that started in the pit of my stomach, flowed through my bloodstream and fed into my bones. I was furious, and upset, and hurt beyond belief.
I supposed this was what Marley had felt like. Only worse, because her pony had been hurt, and in a way, that had been my fault.
Karma really could be a bitch.
Dad came storming back, sans officials. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this, don’t worry.” He rolled his wrist and checked the time. “You need to hurry up and get the ponies tacked. The course walk is about to open.”
I shook my head. “I’m not riding.”
Dad’s expression darkened. “You can’t let them chase you away. Don’t let them beat you. That’s what they want!”
“I don’t care what they want!” I yelled at him, aware that my voice was carrying, but beyond caring. I was tired of being nice. I was tired of doing as I was told. I was not going out there on my scalped pony and letting people laugh at him. I was not going out there to be judged even more harshly than usual. I was done. When it was just me being picked on, fine. I could handle that. I was used to it now. But not when it came to my ponies. I wasn’t going to risk their safety for my own ego, or my father’s. “I’m not riding. You can drive us home now or later, but I’m not riding.”
He conceded, eventually. Mum backed me up for once, and I think Dad got sick of people watching us argue. Even he had his limits. So we packed the truck and we drove out of there without a backwards glance.
The road blurred ahead of us through my unshed tears. Yesterday had gone so well. I wondered why someone had waited until now to try and sabotage me. Just when I’d thought we were putting all of this behind us and finally moving forward.
“Who would have done this?” Mum was looking anxiously at me as though I had the faintest idea.
Dad made a grumbling noise in his throat. “I’ve already spoken to the security for next weekend’s event. They’ll be on high alert.”
He nodded, assuring himself that everything would be fine. Mum started muttering about looking for false tails, and I still said nothing. It didn’t matter anyway. I was never taking the boys to another show. Not with us. It wasn’t worth the risk.
* * *
I was mucking out the stables in the barn when Mum came to find me.
“We need to talk.”
I looked up, using my forearm to swipe a stray wisp of hair off my face. Buck wandered to the front of the box and sniffed at my mother in his friendly way, and she absently stroked his strong neck.
“I’ve spoken with Adriaan, and he’s willing to help us.”
Oh. It was a mild evening, but I felt suddenly cold. Her uncle Adriaan was the one who’d taken Pete in after Dad threw him out. He hated Dad as much as he loved Mum. She’d spent her formative summers on Adriaan’s farm on the outskirts of Pretoria, between terms at boarding school, because her parents had been too busy to spend any time with their daughter. This was part of her reason for smothering me, and definitely the reason that she’d always refused to send me away to boarding school.
Living on Adriaan’s farm in the holidays and learning to ride under his guidance had been the best part of Mum’s childhood, as she’d told me many times. I’d been there myself, and it was beautiful. And vast, and exotic, and slightly frightening. Adriaan carried a gun on his hip at all times, and had a pack of slightly savage dogs that kept intruders at bay. I’d never seen him use the gun, or seen his dogs attack anyone, but the threat of it had scared me. I preferred the relative safety of our little farm, nestled in the hills with friendly farmers on either side, roads that were safe to walk down and ride on without supervision, without needing guns or attack dogs. Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe I was being ridiculous, and limited in my view of South Africa. It had been years since I was there, and I’d only seen a small part of the country. Perhaps now that I was older, I wouldn’t mind any of that.
But I didn’t know for sure.
“Are you leaving?” My voice trembled slightly, and Mum looked anxious.
“Not without you.”
I didn’t want to go, but I didn’t know if I could tell her that. Her eyes were alight, despite her nervousness. She loved her home country. I tried to put myself in her place. What if I was being offered the opportunity to come back to New Zealand, after living overseas for twenty years? Wouldn’t I leap at the chance too?
“When?”
She looked even more excited now. “
When your brother goes back.”
“Next week?” I looked at Buck, nosing through his bedding in search of dropped hay. “That soon? What about the ponies?”
“Just for a visit,” Mum said quickly. “Just to be sure. We’ll tell your father that it’s a holiday.”
“And that he’s not invited? That’ll go down well.”
“He…” She frowned, pursed her lips. I saw how much she was struggling with this, and I felt for her. But I hated her at the same time, for being indecisive. For wanting to leave. For dragging me into it.
“He can’t stop us,” Mum said decisively, trying to convince herself. “We can always come back if we decide that we want to, but…” She ran a hand through her short hair. “I need to do this, Susie. I have to prove it to myself that I can still do things for myself. Even if he doesn’t want me to.”
I nodded, turning away and scooping up more wet shavings. At least she was finally prepared to stand up for herself. That had to be a good thing, right?
Mum left the stables as I filled the wheelbarrow to the brim, my head full of conflicting thoughts.
The day wasn’t done with surprises. I’d showered and eaten dinner and started on my English assignment when my phone pinged. I glanced at the screen as the notification popped up.
Katy O’Reilly has sent you a friend request.
My breath caught in my throat. This was new. Did she really want to be friends? Or was this some kind of trick? I’d been fooled before. But she was friends with AJ, and AJ genuinely seemed to like me. Maybe Katy was having a change of heart. Besides, I reminded myself as I swiped Facebook open, I’m leaving soon anyway. I’m not competing anymore. So who cares?
I accepted her request, then tried to go back to my assignment, but I couldn’t concentrate. And then my phone pinged again. My hands shook as I lifted the phone to read Katy’s message.
Hey you coming to CHB this wkd?
I blinked. It wasn’t overly friendly, but it wasn’t mean either. Not yet, at least. Tentatively, I replied.
No. Don’t want to risk it.
I put the phone back down on my desk, face down. Tried to ignore it, but as soon as it pinged again, I picked it up. I wished I didn’t care, but I did.
You should come.
My suspicions bubbled up inside of me. Why was she, of all people, so keen for me to return? I started piecing the puzzle together. Maybe it was because of my friendship with AJ. Perhaps that’s what had tipped her over the edge. I was leaving anyway. It didn’t matter anymore.
So was the glass you as well or just the rest of it?
I ground my teeth together as I sent the message. Why else would she be so keen to have me at a show? I should’ve unfriended her right away, but she was already writing back and my curiosity got the better of me as I wondered how she planned to defend herself.
Huh? What glass?
Yeah, right. Like she didn’t know. I shouldn’t reply.
I couldn’t stop myself.
The broken glass in Buck’s water bucket.
I wished I had better self-control. I clicked on her name, went into her profile page. My thumb hovered over the Unfriend button, but she replied quickly and I checked her response instead.
Holy crap this just gets worse. It wasn’t me, I swear, but I think I know who it was. Cant prove anything though. Come to Hastings and we’ll try catch them redhanded.
I bit my lip, wondering. Dad was adamant that we were going, that we wouldn’t be put off competing by someone else’s vindictiveness. Mum had already bought a false tail for Skip, so that he wouldn’t look too ridiculous in the ring. But Dad’s attempts to bring private security onto the show grounds was causing a headache with the organisers, and I just wanted to stay out of it all. I wanted to stay home while I still could.
Put my ponies at risk again? no thanks
Katy had a response for that too.
I know the ppl who allocate yards at Hastings. We’ll get yours right next to ours and camp out overnight with them. We wont let anything happen to your ponies I swear.
I read her message three times, to be sure. This was a turnaround, and I hadn’t expected it. And it was tempting to have someone else in my corner. We. Our. She meant herself and AJ, presumably. Which gave rise to another question.
What if they come after your ponies instead?
Her reply made me smile, despite my reservations.
Then they’ll have hell to pay.
I fired off another question.
Who do you think it is?
Katy’s reply was cagey.
Don’t want to say yet. Just a suspicion. But we’ll find out one way or the other.
Hmm.
You’re sure they’ll be at Hastings?
Yep. Guarantee it.
Someone local, then. My own suspicions flared up, but I kept my mouth shut. I knew how it felt to be accused without proof. I wasn’t going to do that to someone else. But it begged another question, and I asked Katy.
Why now? Why did they wait all this time to do something like this?
It took her a moment to compose a response.
Cant be sure but I have a theory on that too. Don’t worry we will sort it. Trust me.
I wished I could. I had to try.
Ok. See you there I guess.
Katy fired back a thumbs-up symbol, and I found myself smiling at my phone. I was still nervous, but I was prepared to give it one more shot.
* * *
Two days later, I opened the back door and took off my riding boots, wondering what was for dinner and stressing mildly about my Bio assignment that was due tomorrow and still needed a ton of research done on it. And then I froze at the sound of raised voices.
My parents were arguing. Loudly.
About me.
“She’s not going with you!”
“She’s my daughter, and I can take her on holiday if I want to!”
“Naomi, be serious. It’s the end of the school year. She has exams coming up. She can’t just run off to South Africa because you feel like taking a holiday!”
Mum hadn’t thought of that. I could tell by the way she hesitated, then started up again. “She’s a good student. She’ll catch up again.”
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” A loud thump, and I shivered. He liked to bang things around when he got angry. He never hit us, never threw things. Wouldn’t ever hurt us physically, because he didn’t need to. Harsh words and angry gestures had always been enough. “No! You are not taking our daughter away.”
“You can’t stop me.”
“Oh yes I can. I’ll get the police involved, accuse you of kidnapping.” He was deadly serious, and we both knew it. That was it, then. I knew he’d find a way. Oddly, I felt relieved. I hadn’t wanted to go anyway, and to have my mother walk out on my father would have torn the fabric of my world so thoroughly apart that I wouldn’t have been sure of anything anymore.
But then Mum spoke again, and what she said made my blood run cold.
“You can keep her here, but you can’t stop me. I’m going, Derrick. I need to go home. I need to be with my son.”
“Our son.” His reaction must’ve been instinctive, because he’d been denying Pete’s existence for almost two years now, but Mum called him out on it immediately.
“No.” Her voice was resolute, and I wondered where she’d found these reserves of strength from. “My son. You don’t want him anymore. You threw him away. I know what he did,” she continued, raising her voice to drown out his objections. “But he’s my son. I’m not letting you drive him out of my life. You can reject him, ignore him, be done with him. That’s your choice, but it’s not mine.”
“So you’ll walk out on your daughter instead? What kind of mother are you?”
“I’m trying to be a good one,” Mum said, and she was crying now. “But you’re not letting me. Please, let me take Susie with me.”
It was Dad’s turn to be resolute now. “Susie isn’t going anywhere.
”
“You tell her that, then. You explain to her why you’re tearing our family apart, because of your selfish, ridiculous pride!”
I’d heard enough. I pulled my boots on again, turned around, and went back to the stables. Went into Skip’s loosebox and flung my arms around his neck, the bristle of his shaved mane rubbing against my cheek as I started to cry.
* * *
I handed my Biology assignment in unfinished. I didn’t care. What did it matter? Neither of my parents had spoken to me since last night. The house had been silent when I’d come back inside, so I’d made some toast for dinner and eaten it in my room. Dad was gone to work already in the morning, and Mum stayed in bed. I got myself ready for school, and walked down the road to the bus stop. I missed the bus and ended up half an hour late to school, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
The school cared, though. I’d been called into the Dean’s office and given another verbal warning for lateness. I’d sat there and nodded and pretended to be ashamed of myself. And then I’d been asked if everything was okay at home, and I’d lied and said yes. After being told that I was on my final warning, and another reminder that Ms Bryant’s door is always open, I was released.
I had to pass the guidance counsellor’s office to get to my next class, and her door was shut.
So I kept walking.
* * *
Dad found me at the stables that night, practicing plaiting Skip’s false tail in. If I did it right, it was almost impossible to tell that it wasn’t real. Until he swished it, and then it was blatantly obvious to everyone that it was an extension.
“That looks good.”
It didn’t, but he was trying to be nice. “Not really.”
I ran my fingers through the long strands, wondering whose tail this had once been, and what had happened to them. I couldn’t make myself look at my father. I didn’t know what he was going to say.
