by Janet Rising
“But—” began Bean.
“No buts!” interrupted Katy, doing an uncanny impersonation of Dee’s mom and sticking her hand up, palm toward us. “Subject closed!”
“Jeez, Dee,” I said, “can’t you do something?”
Dee rolled her eyes. “What do you think? It’s all right for you. Your mom isn’t horsey. You know how much I hate being dragged off to shows every weekend. I’d rather be having fun with all of you. My mom’s made it clear that while she’s paying the bills, she’ll have the last say. I never get to have any fun on Dolly. I just wish she was an ordinary pony, like all of yours.”
“Excuse me?” cried Katy, her hackles rising.
“Oh, you know what I mean!” moaned Dee, lost in self-pity.
I sucked in my cheeks. Dee’s mom Sophie is a showing fanatic and used to getting her own way. She has her own show horse, a liver chestnut called Lester (with some fancyshmancy show name) and their horse trailer is probably bigger than the house I live in with my mom. And Sophie is the sort of horsey woman who won’t take no for an answer. Pooh! I was getting super excited about this competition. Now we seemed to have failed before we’d even begun.
“You’re reprieved then,” I heard Drummer say to Dolly.
“Yes.” Dolly sighed. “And I was so looking forward to spending more time with you, handsome,” she added, batting her eyelashes at my bay pony.
I told you, didn’t I?
“Maybe we’ll all get out of it.” Tiffany sounded hopeful.
“Bet we’re not that lucky!” Drummer groaned.
“But what about me? What am I supposed to do all summer?” moaned Dee, picking flaking green paint off Dolly’s door with her fingernail.
“Don’t worry about that,” Katy said brightly, smiling at Dee. “When you’re not qualifying for HOYS you can be the team groom.”
“Oh, big deal!” exclaimed Dee, flicking her brown hair and storming off in a huff to the barn.
“How about James?” Katy suggested. “He might be on our team.”
“Cat and Leanne have already bagged him,” I said.
“We have to find someone,” Bean wailed, jumping off Tiffany. Tiff woke up with a start, suddenly alert to any tigers or crocodiles or wolf packs that could be lurking—like they do around a stable yard.
“We will!” I said grimly. “We just have to!”
Chapter 2
Despite our depleted team, we began to practice for the Sublime Equine Challenge. At least, Katy and Bean did. I just sat about wondering what on earth Drummer and I could do for the wild card event. What would the judges be expecting? I couldn’t get my head around it—whatever could we do that was different and exciting? I couldn’t let Katy and Bean down.
I explained the concept to Drummer.
“Why can’t we just do the show jumping?” he said.
“Because Bean and Tiff have claimed it.”
“Well, ask if we can do the cross-country. I can do that— if I have to.”
“Bluey’s doing it. He’ll die of disappointment if anyone else does it, and he’s way, way better at it than anyone else.”
“Well, I could just about manage the dressage, I suppose,” said Drum in his best martyr voice.
Of course! Now Dee was out, perhaps Drum and I could grab the dressage slot. I thought hard. Dressage isn’t our best thing, really. To be honest, we’re not great at anything in particular, but we are sort of passable at everything—you know, we get by and win the odd ribbon. We’d probably do a better dressage test than a pathetic wild card routine, I thought.
I found Bean in the outdoor school, putting Tiffany over a few jumps. Katy was doing the groom bit—charging around and changing the height of the poles. She was a bit red in the face, which clashed with her red hair. The effect was sort of a raspberry topped with grated carrot. I didn’t think she’d thank me for telling her, so I kept it to myself.
“Me and Drum really want to do the dressage!” I shouted from the gate. I decided it would be better to be positive about the dressage, rather than negative about the wild card event. To be honest, I didn’t like my chances much in either. Katy stopped in mid-stride and frowned.
“Oh, OK. We just need a wild card person now,” she said. “Hey, Bean, you almost ran me over!”
“Well, you’re in the way!” wailed Bean, hurtling toward the next jump, her long blond braid flying out behind her like a tail. I couldn’t help noticing Tiffany’s peculiar jumping style: between jumps she cantered around all collected, looking every inch the show jumper. Then, three strides away from the jump, she stuck her head in the air, launched herself forward like a rocket, and took off almost straight up, like a Harrier Jump Jet. Upon landing again, she resumed her rocking horse canter and melt-in-the-mouth expression. Weird!
I could hear her muttering to herself as she did it: “Oh, there’s the jump…OK…here we go…it’s a big one…I can do it! Oh, no, I can’t…maybe…yikes…Yes!!!”
“How do you stay on when she does that?” I asked.
“Does what?” asked Bean airily, as Tiffany did her rocket-launcher-jump-jet impersonation over the planks with a grunt. I supposed Bean was used to it.
I went and told Drummer the good news. He was dozing with his head in the far corner of his stable.
“So we’re doing the tip-tuppy thing now?” he said, not bothering to turn around.
“If the tip-tuppy thing is Drummer-speak for dressage, then yes,” I told him.
“Oh, good, I can sleep through that,” he said, yawning. “I don’t suppose…”
“What?”
“There’s an eating category? I’m sure to win that.”
“You’re right there, fatso!” I told him. “In fact, I think I need to cut down your grazing hours. I may keep you in at nights for a while until the grass dies down a bit.”
“What?” yelled Drummer, swinging around to face me. “Are you joking? I hardly eat anything. I barely manage to scrounge enough out there in the field at night by the time Tiffany and that pig Henry have lawn-mowered their way around. It’s a wonder I’ve not been reported to the authorities, I’m so starved.”
Henry is a hefty, bad-tempered Dales pony who belongs to an ancient old lady called Mrs. Bradley. I didn’t doubt he was a bit of a pig, but Tiffany never carries any weight— she and Bean are both identical in the skinny department. I decided to move the conversation on.
“We need a final team member, so put your thinking cap on.”
“James and Moth,” said Drummer.
“Oh, why didn’t I think of that?” I said sarcastically. “Oh, wait a minute, I know—because he’s been commandeered by Cat and Leanne!”
“Pippin?” Drum asked, doubtfully. I gave him a look. Pippin is tiny, and his rider, Bethany, is just a kid.
“In that case”—Drum sighed—“I can’t think of anyone. Can Bluey do two events? He’s always got energy to spare. He makes me tired just looking at him. Speaking of which, you’ve interrupted my nap.”
Drum is so irritating at times! I decided to turn him out in the field and go home.
When I told my mom about the Sublime Equine Challenge, she thought it was a great idea.
“Oooh, imagine if you qualify for the finals,” she enthused, her blond hair bobbing in excitement, “and you get to ride at Brookdale. How thrilling would that be?”
“Well, unless we find our fourth team member, that’s never going to happen,” I replied. We were munching our way through Indian takeout, plates on our laps, watching TV. Empty cartons littered the side table.
“I’ve got a new date tomorrow,” announced Mom. My heart sank. We moved here to this cottage when my mom and dad split up. Dad went off with some size double-zero chick from work, and Mom kinda fell apart. But since we’ve been here she’s brightened up and she’s been looking for love, as they say.
On the Internet.
I know, I know, it freaks me out, but what can I do? She’s really careful and sensible about it,
and I’ve promised to support her. Her friend Carol supports her, too, which isn’t surprising, seeing as how Carol dates men like we’re all on a downward slide toward the end of the world. I blame Carol and her interfering ways for getting Mom into it all.
“That’s nice,” I said, managing to make it sound as though I meant it. I’m getting better at that. “Who’s this one? Old or new?”
“Second date,” mumbled Mom, stuffing half a samosa in her mouth and leaving filo pastry crumbs on the side of her face.
“Well, if you’re going for Indian food, don’t do that,” I advised. “It’s most unattractive. Who’s this guy?”
“His name’s Greg. He’s a teacher. Divorced. He’s got two sons, seven and twelve years old. They live with their mother. He’s very nice, and he was very attentive on our first date—and very interested to learn about your passion for horses. Apparently, he used to ride in his youth.”
“Oh, good, perhaps he can come and be our fourth team member,” I suggested, glumly. “Do you think he can possibly pass as under sixteen?”
“Doubtful—he’s got a beard.”
“Oh, yuck!”
I was getting fed up with trying to think of someone to complete our team. It was so frustrating! If only my old friend Kirsten didn’t live so far away, she’d have thought up something great for the wild card event.
The next day, I was tacking Drummer up to go for a ride by ourselves when James turned up.
“Going riding?” he said.
I nodded.
“Want some company?” he asked. “I’m a bit fed up at the moment.”
Naturally, I didn’t say no.
It didn’t take him long to get Moth in from the field and tacked up, and we rode out along the bridle path that led down to the lake. Moth’s bright chestnut coat gleamed in the sunlight, her four white legs moving in step with Drum’s black ones. Moth has a white face, too, but you can’t see that very well when you’re riding next to her, and she always goes along in a hurry, puffing and slamming her hooves down like an old-fashioned charger, with James playing the role of her knight. At least, that’s how I see it.
“How’s the jumping going?” I asked James. “Did your chat with Moth help?”
“Yes, it did, but it’s all been for nothing,” James groaned.
“Why?”
“Cat told me yesterday that I can’t be on her team. It appears that Leanne had already asked two of her much-more-talented-than-me friends to do the show jumping and the cross-country.”
“What?” I cried, my heart leaping.
“Yeah, I know. What a bummer, huh?” continued James. “I mean, talk about a letdown. She’s nabbed India Hammond for the show jumping, so I get ditched. Leanne thinks she stands a better chance with India and her amazing pony, the Dweeb, than Moth and me. How rude!”
“But that’s wonderful!” I shrieked, sitting up and reining in Drummer. I blessed India, whoever she was—selfish of me, but you know.
“Ow!” said Drummer. “Tone it down, will you? Some of us have big ears.”
“Oh, thanks a lot!” James exclaimed, turning in the saddle to frown at me.
“We’re looking for someone to be on our team!” I shouted, bouncing up and down on Drum.
“Hey, I’m not a trampoline. Sit still up there or get off!” grumbled Drum.
“But…but…you’ve got four people already,” James said.
“Not anymore! Dee’s mom’s forbidden her to do it— says it’ll ruin Dolly’s chances of qualifying for HOYS.”
“Oh, awesome!” James said, beaming from ear to ear before forcing his face into looking seriously sad. “Bad luck about poor Dee-Dee, though.”
“Of course.”
“Yeah, of course.”
I don’t think either of us really meant it. Dee’s a bit of a whiner. Well, actually, she never stops whining. I suppose it’s hard for her with her mom always at the stables and on her case the whole time, but even so, it’s a bit wearing.
We rode on with James in a much-improved mood.
“Got our fourth team member?” said Drum.
“Yup!” I told him, patting his neck.
“So we’re still doing it?”
“Yup!”
Drummer sighed. Moth said nothing. She’s not very talkative due to her (understandable) mistrust of humans. She was mistreated before James got her, and she’ll only talk to James. Of course, he can only hear her when he has Epona. We’ve tried holding Epona between us so we can both hear the ponies, but it seems she only works for one person at a time.
“What’s Drummer’s problem?” James asked, hearing me talking to him. James has known about Epona ever since he got hold of her by mistake, but he’d never tell anyone else. I mean, imagine the fuss—everyone would want Epona, and I’d probably have to give her up, and Drummer says that ponies everywhere wouldn’t thank us. So that’s why we keep her to ourselves.
“Oh, nothing important,” I told him. “Let’s canter— I’ll race you!”
Katy and Bean were ecstatic when we told them.
“Fantastic!” Katy screamed, throwing her purple dandy brush in the air. Unfortunately, it landed on the roof with a bang, which made Tiffany, who’d been dozing in her stable next door, almost fall over.
“But wait a minute…” started Bean. “Who’s going to do which event?”
We all looked at Bean. I don’t think anyone could believe she had beaten us all to highlighting the problem.
“What?” she said. “It’s an obvious question!”
“Well,” I said, “we need someone to do the wild card.” I really didn’t want to get stuck with that again—I’d only just wriggled out of it.
“Umm, I don’t think so!” said James firmly.
“Well, what then?” said Katy, her hands on her hips. “I mean, I really, really want to do the cross-country.”
We all agreed that Bluey was the best pony for the job.
“Moth can only do gymkhana and jumping,” James said.
“But I’m doing the show jumping!” wailed Bean. “I’ve been practicing!”
“So have I,” James said. Moth only ever storms around with her nose on her chest, snorting like a dragon. She clearly couldn’t do the dressage—she’d be useless at it. She had to do the show jumping.
“But Tiff’s really well schooled, isn’t she, Bean?” said Katy, determined to win Bean around. “She could do the dressage—Moth can’t.”
“I suppose so,” Bean agreed reluctantly, biting her lip. “But I’m horrible at remembering dressage test movements. The last time I tried it, I totally forgot the way. It was awful.”
I could easily imagine Bean forgetting a dressage test.
“Oh, you’ll be fine!” James said breezily.
“But I’m doing the dressage!” I told them. I didn’t like where this was going.
“You’re welcome to it!” shrugged Bean. “I’ll be just as useless at the wild card as I will be at dressage!”
“You’ll be fine!” repeated James. “It’s settled!”
“I didn’t know it was up to you—you’ve swiped the show jumping, and I’ve been practicing. Dressage isn’t my thing—it really isn’t!”
“Stop being so bossy, James,” said Katy firmly. “You’ve only been in the team five minutes and you’re taking charge. It’s our team, not yours!”
“I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss,” began James, oblivious to Bean’s feelings. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t do the awful dressage—I wanted to, for goodness sake, which is what I told everyone.
“But we need you to do the wild card event,” insisted Katy.
“Why?” I said.
“Yes, why?” wailed Bean. “Tiff and I can do it. I’d rather do that than the dressage. Believe me, you really don’t want me doing the dressage.”
“Pia has a huge advantage—she can talk to Drum and get him to do things none of us could do with our ponies. Don’t you see?” said Katy, gettin
g all earnest in an obvious attempt to win us over. “Pia is the natural choice for the wild card—she has to do it!”
There was silence. That I might be a natural choice was news to everyone, but we could see how Katy was thinking. The image of Drum and me doing the dressage faded away. It seemed Bean and I were both stuck with our respective events, however much we didn’t want them.
I frowned. “What do you mean, Katy? Explain.”
“You just have to think something up. Some sort of routine you can talk Drummer through, something that doesn’t rely on riding or tack. You could, er, well, you could…Oh, I don’t know, how about something without any tack on at all? Wouldn’t that wow the judges? You’d win by a landslide!”
“Yes, Pia!” exclaimed James. “That would be so cool!”
I wasn’t convinced. “Wouldn’t that be cheating?”
“Why?” asked James, totally getting onboard with the idea. “You need to use the skills you have. Not everyone knows you’re a Pony Whisperer.”
“It sounds like cheating to me.”
“No, you’re just pressing home your natural advantage,” Katy continued. “Just as Leanne is really good at dressage— she’s not going to do the jumping because she thinks she has an unfair advantage in the dressage event, is she?”
When it was put like that, it sort of made sense.
“Does that mean I’m stuck with the dressage?” mumbled Bean.
We all looked at her in sympathy. Katy put her arm around Bean’s shoulders.
“You and Tiff can do it! Tiffany does really well, I don’t know why you don’t enter for more dressage competitions. You’ll be great at it.”
“Because I can’t remember the tests!” Bean said through gritted teeth.
“One of us can call for you,” said James. “You can have someone call out the movements if you want to.”
“Yes, that would work!” said Katy, squeezing Bean’s shoulders.
“That’s worse,” said Bean, shaking her head. “It confuses me even more.” She gave a big sigh. “I suppose I can give it a try,” she said. “For the team.”
