Horse Talk

by Bonnie Bryant

  “Odor-Eaters might work for the boots, I admit. But what about those smelly riding breeches? And then there’s all that manure. No matter what, I come home smelling like manure.…”

  Lisa stared at the phone. They were trapped inside their own talk show with nine minutes of airtime left. Where was Stevie when they needed her?

  THEY ANSWERED THREE more long-winded, hopelessly ridiculous questions before Carole cued the exit music and Lisa signed off. “Was that the same person over and over?” Lisa asked quietly.

  “I couldn’t tell,” Carole said. “I think whoever it was thought they were pretty humorous.”

  “Well, I didn’t!” Lisa felt ready to burst. “We’re doing a lot of hard work here, and I don’t like being made fun of! Manure!”

  “I know,” Carole said soberly. “At least we’ve only got to do this two more times. I wonder why Stevie quit calling? Look, here she comes.”

  Stevie stormed down the stable aisle. Her eyes glittered with rage. “I’ll kill him!” she said. “I’m really going to do it this time. Didn’t you guys recognize that cretin on the phone?”

  Lisa and Carole shook their heads.

  Stevie’s face was crimson. “That was Chad!”

  “HE ADMITS IT,” Stevie said indignantly into the phone. She had called both Carole and Lisa (the Lakes had three-way calling) to tell them the news. “I accused him of calling our show and pretending to be five different people, and all he did was shrug and say he had a whole bunch of horsey questions that he needed to have answered. He was smiling, the creep! You could tell he thought he was just hilarious. And worse yet, he said he still had a few questions left!”

  “Oh no!” Lisa groaned. “The ones he asked were hideous. Imagine what he might come up with for next week!”

  “We’ve got to stop him,” said Carole.

  “I know,” Stevie said with venom in her voice. “I’ve been thinking of ways. I wish we could infect him with laryngitis. Or lock him in a jail cell, without a phone.”

  “Even criminals get to make one phone call,” Lisa said with a weary laugh. She couldn’t believe how ugly Horse Talk was becoming. At the start she’d thought it was a great idea. Now she just wished it was over.

  “The worst part is that he really did get us,” Carole said. “He didn’t even do anything wrong. We’re a talk show, and he called in with questions. We had to answer them. From his point of view, it was a perfect crime.”

  “They weren’t even obvious crank questions,” Lisa said in agreement. “I mean, if he’d called up and said, ‘Is your refrigerator running?’ we could have just hung up on him. But he’s smart enough to ask actual questions about riding and horses.”

  “Strange, imaginary horses,” Carole added. “Real horses don’t shimmy their hips.”

  “I’m going to tell my parents, but I don’t know if even that will do any good,” Stevie said. “I’m sure they’ll tell him to knock it off, but—”

  “All he has to do is get a friend to call in for him,” Carole interrupted.

  “Sure,” said Stevie. “That’s what I would do.”

  “It’s what we did do,” Lisa reminded her. “We had you call in with questions because nobody else would. This whole talk show is just a disaster. We’ve got to do something, or Carole and I are going to be the laughingstocks of the entire school.”

  “We’ll come up with a plan,” Carole said. “We’ve got all week.” She was upset, but not as much as Lisa was. Carole didn’t worry about school as much as Lisa did. What bothered her most was that here they were, willing and ready to teach people about horses, and no one wanted to learn. Carole knew that she would listen to a radio show about horses. “Maybe we just need more publicity for Horse Talk, so that legitimate callers phone in.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of posting Chad’s naked baby pictures all over Fenton Hall,” Stevie said. “Or maybe we could come up with some good reason for blackmail.”

  “Why don’t we try talking to Chad?” Lisa suggested. “Maybe if we appeal to his better side—tell him how important this is to us—he’ll knock it off.”

  “He doesn’t have a better side,” Stevie growled.

  “Yeah,” Carole said. “I mean, he might have a better side, but from what we’ve seen of Chad before, telling him how important Horse Talk is to us will just inspire him to bother us more. Maybe if we leave him alone, he’ll leave us alone, too.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that,” Stevie said. “Revenge is the best option. But, like you said, we’ve got all week.”

  * * *

  ON THURSDAY MORNING at school Lisa ran into Carole in the hallway. “How’s it going so far?” she asked. Carole looked a little weary.

  “You wouldn’t believe the number of comments I’ve gotten about Horse Talk,” Carole said. “I guess a lot more people listened to yesterday’s show than the first one.”

  “I’ve gotten more comments, too,” Lisa said. She rolled her eyes. “Some people told me they thought the show got more interesting right at the end. I couldn’t tell if they were joking or just so ignorant about horses that they actually thought Chad’s stupid pranks were serious questions.”

  “Angela Ashbury’s in my algebra class,” Carole said. “She rides with Cross County, and she figured out that it was all a setup. I mean, the first part. She knew we had the questions scripted, and she even realized that it was Stevie calling in.”

  “Only because she knows all three of us,” Lisa said. “And she knows a lot about horses.”

  “But she thought we’d scripted the stupid questions, too,” Carole reported. “She offered to help us come up with some ideas if we ran out for this week. She said, and I quote, ‘We can’t have the school’s project sounding like an amateur production.’ ”

  “But we are amateurs!” Lisa had to laugh. “Believe me, they couldn’t pay me for this job.”

  “Girls!” Mrs. Klemme approached them. “I’m glad to catch you both together,” she said. “I just wanted to compliment you again on your show. You’re really handling yourselves professionally—and you seemed to get some more interesting calls this week. Your program is really taking off. Good job!” She hurried down the hallway to her classroom. Lisa and Carole watched her go.

  “Does she mean that?” Lisa asked. “I can’t tell if she’s being sincere or sarcastic.”

  “I think she means it,” Carole decided. “Have you listened to any of the other shows? They mostly play music, and some of the DJs talk way too fast when they’re on the air. You can’t understand what they’re saying. We have to talk the whole time, and we are handling the stupid calls. We’re not hanging up or yelling at Chad on the air.”

  “I might have if I’d known it was him,” Lisa said. “I guess we are doing some things right. But I’m dreading next week’s show. I’m really afraid Mrs. Klemme is right.”

  “About what?” Carole shifted her backpack on her shoulder.

  “About our show really taking off.” Lisa sighed. “I have this feeling that Chad’s going to be unstoppable.”

  TUESDAY AFTERNOON Stevie showed up at Pine Hollow in a foul mood. “We’re in deep trouble,” she told her friends.

  “Oh no!” Lisa didn’t even have to ask to know exactly what Stevie meant. All Thursday and Friday, word had spread around Fenton Hall, Stevie’s school, about the excellent prank Chad had played on his sister. The Saddle Club had hoped the weekend would help settle things down. Instead, it only seemed to give the students more time to spread the word.

  “Everyone thinks it’s funny,” Stevie reported now. She hung her school bag in her locker and started changing into her riding clothes. At least they had today’s lesson to look forward to before tomorrow’s disaster. “Everyone I ever played a joke on in my entire academic career finds this hilarious. Every student at Fenton Hall will be listening to you guys tomorrow, and I bet half of them will be calling in.”

  “But you aren’t even a cohost,” Lisa protested. “No
one even knows you’re involved.” She pulled her boots on with more force than was necessary.

  “They know,” Stevie said. “I’m sorry, guys, but they know. Chad made sure of that.”

  Lisa rested her forehead against the bank of lockers. “What are we going to do?”

  Carole finished pulling her hair back into a low ponytail. “Saddle Club meeting?” she suggested. Veronica waltzed in and started getting ready for the lesson, too. “In the tack room?” suggested Carole.

  “Great.” The Saddle Club hustled out the door. They didn’t want Veronica to hear their plans.

  “Stevie, maybe you can call in and never hang up the phone,” Lisa suggested. “We could pretend that the phone was ringing—we could get an old bell or something—and you could just keep asking questions.” She picked up Prancer’s bridle and rubbed at some of the gunk on the edge of the bit. Why were bits so hard to keep clean? And why had she ever thought a radio show would be fun?

  Carole sat down on one of the tack trunks. “If we did that, we’d have to script the whole thing,” she protested.

  “We’ve got questions left over from last time,” Lisa reminded her.

  “Yes, but—” Carole made a face. She tried to explain what was bothering her. “First of all, people are already catching on that we only had one caller. Now we know we’re going to have lots of listeners. They’ll all realize it’s just Stevie, and if they call in and get a busy signal, they’ll realize what we’ve done. Then we’ll really look stupid.

  “Plus,” she continued, “if we take the phone off the hook, we’ll be giving up on everyone. What if people really need our help with their horses and they can’t get through? At least before, they had a chance.”

  “Carole,” Lisa said, “I understand your concerns, but so far we have not received one single legitimate phone call. No one wants our help with their horses.”

  “Someone might,” Carole said. “That was the point of doing this, wasn’t it?”

  “I guess so,” Lisa said. “That, and it was supposed to be fun.”

  “Carole’s right about everyone knowing we weren’t taking real calls,” Stevie said. “We could do it—it would sure be easier—but it would be like giving up. On ourselves.”

  Lisa shook her head. “Well, I don’t want to do that. It’s not our fault Chad is wrecking our show, but it would be our fault if we gave up. We have to try.”

  “The show goes on!” Stevie said, trying to muster up some enthusiasm. “I’m sorry it’s my brother who’s messing up your show.”

  “What can you do about it?” Lisa asked. “It’s not your fault. At least this way, people are listening in.”

  Max poked his head into the tack room. “Stevie, there you are,” he said. “Listen, Janey’s joining your lesson today. Can you make sure she’s got everything she needs?”

  “Sure, Max.” Stevie sighed. In her present mood she really didn’t feel like talking to Janey. She still wasn’t getting along with her.

  “Good. Better hurry—we start in ten minutes.”

  “And Prancer’s still a mess!” Lisa started grabbing tack. None of them had been paying attention to the time. Max hated it when his students were late.

  “You check on Janey, we’ll get Belle started for you,” Carole instructed.

  “Thanks.” Stevie hurried down the aisle to the row of stalls where the ponies lived. She assumed Janey was still riding Nickel. What was Janey doing in their Tuesday lesson, anyway? Max tended to keep it to the advanced riders. The little kids rode on Wednesdays.

  Stevie couldn’t help feeling more and more irritated. She should have gotten Belle ready instead of worrying about the stupid radio show. Now she had to take care of Janey, who wouldn’t be grateful for it, either. She was probably going to be late for her lesson.

  “Hi, Stevie,” Janey said when Stevie rushed into the stall. She had tied Nickel in the corner of the stall and groomed him, and she was just tightening the saddle girth.

  “You missed some mud on his back leg,” Stevie told her. “Look down here, see? You’ve always got to clean the mud off. He could have a sore or something underneath.”

  “I know,” said Janey. “I just missed that spot. He rolled, so he was pretty dirty.”

  “And look, your girth isn’t tight enough. You can’t ride—”

  “I know.” This time Janey cut Stevie off. “I’m tightening it a little at a time. He doesn’t mind it so much that way.”

  “Well, hurry up. It’s almost time for the lesson, and Max yells like anything when we’re late. Have you combed his mane? Can you get his bridle on okay, or do you need me to help you? Don’t forget to clean his stall out after the lesson. And wipe out his water bucket, it looks dirty.”

  “Okay.” Janey looked a little tight-lipped.

  Stevie gave the pony another once-over. Nickel looked pretty good, and his tack was clean. Janey knew a lot about horses. Too bad she wasn’t more friendly! “I’ve got to run,” Stevie said. “See you in the ring—yell if you need me.”

  “Okay.” Janey appeared to be speaking to the wall. Stevie sighed. Why was Janey so distant? Stevie didn’t have time to think about it—she had to get her own horse ready.

  “NO GYMNASTICS TODAY,” Max said to them with a grin. They had finished warming their horses up on the flat and had now reached the part of the lesson Carole loved best: jumping. “We’re going to take the lessons about body position that we learned over the gymnastic fences and use them to jump some bigger-than-average fences.” As he spoke, Max walked around the arena. He’d already laid out a course of eight fences, but now he moved the top rails on each jump a little higher. Carole grinned. Max usually kept them to fairly low fences, but today everything in the arena looked more than three feet tall. This was going to be fun!

  Max told them what order to jump the fences in. “Janey, you start,” he instructed.

  Until Max said that, Carole had forgotten that Janey was in their class. Janey picked up a canter and headed for the first fence, an impressive-looking Swedish oxer, and Carole had a sudden realization: Nickel was a pony! He was much shorter than any of the horses in the ring; to him, the jumps had to look huge! “What is Max thinking?” she whispered to Lisa.

  Lisa shook her head. She was entranced by the expression of fierce concentration on Janey’s face. If Janey had any doubts about Nickel’s ability to jump such a large fence, she certainly didn’t show it. She looked fearless.

  Nickel snapped his knees under his chin and rounded his body over the fence with perfect form. He landed reaching into the bit, eager for the next jump but not rushing for it. Janey sat back a bit and balanced him perfectly. They jumped all eight fences with such authority that when they finished, Lisa and Carole broke out in cheers. Veronica sniffed, which meant she was highly impressed.

  “Well done!” Max said. It was his highest compliment, and it was all he said, so he must have thought Janey’s round was almost perfect. And, Lisa thought, it was. Janey and Nickel had moved in absolute harmony. Nickel was so calm he was usually trusted with beginning riders, but under Janey’s command he looked ready to tackle any fence in the world. The Saddle Club did well during the lesson, but Janey was fabulous.

  “Wow!” Carole said, turning to Stevie when the lesson was over and they were allowed to talk to each other. “Janey’s amazing! How long has she been riding?”

  Stevie had never guessed Janey could ride like that. She’d been as amazed during the lesson as her two friends. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “All her life, I guess.”

  “But she can’t be very old,” Carole said.

  “Yeah—I guess.” Stevie was a little bit embarrassed. She’d never even asked Janey’s age.

  “I bet she has her own pony back in New Zealand,” Lisa said. “She must have. I bet she events, with form like that. Stevie?”

  Stevie shook her head. She could feel herself blushing. “I don’t know,” she said. “I guess. She doesn’t talk about herself
much.”

  Lisa nodded sympathetically. “She doesn’t seem very friendly. It’s too bad.”

  Stevie shook her head again. “I never asked how much riding she did before,” she said. “I never asked if she had her own pony. I think—I think I’ve been doing most of the talking.”

  Suddenly Stevie felt bad about how she’d treated Janey. She’d acted as if Janey didn’t know anything without finding out what she did know. She hadn’t been a good big sister at all. Maybe Janey was a horrid little snob, a miniature Veronica. But maybe she wasn’t. Veronica could never ride a horse as sympathetically as Janey had ridden Nickel.

  Stevie resolved to make amends. She would go speak to—no, with—Janey as soon as she’d put Belle away. But that took a long time because Belle was sweating, and by the time Stevie was finished, Janey was already gone.

  Stevie sighed. She’d make things right tomorrow. No—tomorrow was the call-in show. The horrible Horse Talk.

  “READY?” LISA ASKED. She straightened the stack of horse books on the table.

  “No,” said Carole. “I’m not.”

  Lisa had been consciously keeping her shoulders square, but now she let them slump. “Me either.” They had five minutes before Horse Talk was to begin. Lisa was starting to feel that an hour of dead air would be preferable to whatever was about to happen. Even the kids at her own school had started to talk about Horse Talk. Word had filtered over from Fenton Hall.

  Max stopped on his way to the tack room, and Lisa didn’t bother to try to throw him out. “Have courage,” he said to them.

  “What?” Carole asked. She’d been so busy thinking about jitterbugging fillies, she had hardly noticed him.

  “Have courage,” he said kindly. “You’ll do fine, and it’ll be over in an hour.”

  “Were you listening to the last show?” Lisa asked.

  “Yep,” he said, “and I’ll be in the office listening to this one. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

  “I am worried,” Lisa said as soon as he had gone. “I think this will be miserable.”