Horse Games

by Bonnie Bryant

  “Really? You think I’m good enough?”

  Carole cocked her head as if she were thinking hard.

  “Well,” she began, “we lost our last game by about thirty points. I think that, with you on our team, we ought to be able to change the odds. This time, I hope we’ll only lose by half that. Want to join up?”

  “Sure,” Marie said. “But it depends a bit on my mother.”

  “I’ve been meaning to speak to you about her,” Carole began.

  “LOOK AT THIS,” Stevie announced in Pine Hollow’s locker area eight days later. “My ankle is getting small enough now for me to put on my boots today!”

  She displayed her new footwear for anybody who was interested.

  “Is it still the awful orangey-purple color you tried to get us to look at last week?” Lisa asked.

  “Nuh-uh,” Stevie said. “I’m into green now. A nice sort of olive color, tinged with yellow.”

  “Gross!” Carole grimaced.

  “Can I see it?” Adam Levine asked.

  “It’ll cost you a quarter,” Stevie said. She’d found her natural-made color schemes were her main source of income these days, especially among her younger brother’s friends. She was just trying it out on Adam.

  “Forget it.”

  Stevie didn’t mind. Unbandaging and rebandaging was a real nuisance. She’d want at least seventy-five cents for that.

  “So, what techniques are we going to work on today, O master coach of polocrosse?” Carole asked, changing the subject. “After all, the rematch is tomorrow.”

  “Piece of cake,” Stevie declared. She looked stern, but the fact was she was flattered that Carole had called her the master coach of polocrosse—even jokingly. They had had four practices since the last match and they were actually and truly getting better. Stevie was very proud of what they’d learned and accomplished.

  She checked her list. “Today we’re going to work on stealing the ball. And then, if we have time, dribbling, and then, we have to go over crossing fouls, and then we need to review goal shots.”

  “Ah, we’re going to have a three-hour practice session!” Lisa said brightly.

  Stevie tossed a bootjack at her. “No, you’re safe there. Max showed me that the rules make it illegal for any horse to participate in more than fifty-four minutes of polocrosse a day. That should go for practices, too.”

  Marie finished tucking in her shirttails, took her boots out of her cubby, and sat down on the bench next to Stevie to put them on.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “For what?” Stevie asked.

  “For letting me join up.”

  “I’m not sure we exactly let you join,” Stevie said, musing about the situation. “I think the correct verb is shanghai.”

  Marie smiled. “Maybe,” she said. “But I’m still glad you did it.”

  “Lisa and Carole and I are meeting after practice at TD’s. Want to come along?”

  “Great,” Marie said. “I’ll be there.”

  Stevie stood up then. “Practice begins in ten minutes. Get your horses ready, guys!” Then she picked up her crutches and headed for the playing field where they would practice. She wanted a few minutes to herself before they began.

  Stevie had found that being a coach was very different from being a player. For one thing, she wasn’t doing the exercises herself. She was telling the players what to do. She’d learned that if they found something hard to do, it was probably because it was hard, not because they weren’t trying hard enough. She’d also learned a lesson in the first disastrous match against Cross County, and that was that yelling only made the team angry—at her. There had been lots of times in practices when she’d wanted to yell and scream, but the only time she had done it was when the riders were across the field and she didn’t think they could hear her. For Stevie, that was a victory. She knew it and she was proud of it.

  The other victory was that she had somehow convinced everybody that when it came to polocrosse, all she cared about was learning, having fun, and doing a better job than they had before. Still, in her own heart, her goal was to win, to beat Phil’s team, to show him he wasn’t the only hotshot polocrosse player in the state!

  She could feel the excitement of the impending competition, but she wouldn’t let it show. She couldn’t even afford to think about it—or him. A few players approached the field, ready for practice. Stevie looked once again at her clipboard, concentrating on the practice in front of them, not the match tomorrow. “One day at a time,” she told herself. “Just one.”

  AFTER PRACTICE, FOUR girls—The Saddle Club, plus Marie—walked over to TD’s, chatting and giggling on the way.

  “Look, Ma! No crutches! Not even a cane!” Marie said gleefully, showing her friends how well she could walk now. “My therapist says it’s all because of the riding. It’s made my legs a lot stronger.”

  “Riding has done some other things for you, too, I think,” Lisa said.

  “Sure has,” Marie said. “It’s given me a lot to think about, and it’s been a lot of fun. I hadn’t been letting myself have much fun.”

  “Not much that had been happening to you was much fun,” Carole reminded her. “I mean, eight weeks flat on your back in a hospital isn’t my idea of high comedy.”

  “Mine, either,” Marie confirmed. “Anyway, I’m having fun now, and I’m glad to bequeath my crutches and my cane to Stevie!”

  “Not me,” Stevie said. “I’m almost ready to toss mine out, too. The doctor thinks I’ll be rid of these things in another week. I think they’re about ready to go now. Whenever it is, though, I’ll be glad when that day comes.”

  “You won’t either,” Carole said. “When that happens, people will stop offering to help you—”

  “Boys will stop offering to carry your books—”

  “They never did that in the first place!” Stevie said. “They all just want to try my crutches!”

  “Even Phil?” Lisa asked.

  “Phil who?” Stevie said.

  Carole and Lisa looked at each other, but they weren’t sure they wanted to ask Stevie exactly what she meant. Still, friends were friends, and if it meant helping Stevie when she didn’t think she needed help, well, then, that was what The Saddle Club was all about.

  Carole found a booth for them at TD’s and located a corner for Stevie’s crutches. She sat down next to Marie, leaned forward with her elbows on the table, and looked straight at Stevie.

  “Now,” she began in her serious daughter-of-a-Marine-colonel voice. “Let’s talk. Are you telling us that you’ve got some kind of problem with Phil Marston that we need to know about?”

  Stevie couldn’t hold it any longer. “The game is tomorrow. We’re going to show him then. Really!”

  “We thought you were over this,” Carole said, surprised.

  “And if you’re not, you ought to have your head examined.”

  “Why? He’s my boyfriend and if I want to have a fight with him, I will,” Stevie said.

  “Not that I’m so experienced, but it seems to me if you’re going to have a fight with your boyfriend, it should be a fight that makes sense, don’t you think so, Carole?” Lisa asked.

  “I do. Besides, this isn’t a fight. You’re trying to prove something that doesn’t need to be proven. You know what this reminds me of?” Carole asked Lisa. “It reminds me of the sort of unpredictable way my father gets worried about me. Your mother does the same thing. And so does Marie’s mother. Only with Stevie, it’s a sort of unpredictable competition with Phil.”

  “Stop talking about me as if I weren’t here!” Stevie snapped at her friends.

  What Carole wanted to tell Stevie was to start acting as if she were there. She was saved from saying something she would have been sorry for by the arrival of the waitress.

  Lisa ordered chocolate yogurt with banana slices. Carole asked for hot fudge on vanilla ice cream. Marie ordered a dish of chocolate chip. The waitress then looked expectantly at Stevie,
who was famous for her outrageous sundaes. She was not disappointed.

  “I’ll have chunky chewy chocolate, with walnuts, marshmallow, pineapple, and carob chips.”

  The waitress paled. She wrote the order quickly and disappeared.

  “Oh, and a maraschino cherry on top!” Stevie called after her.

  Carole, Lisa, and Marie all laughed. As long as Stevie could order such awful combinations, how could they stay angry with her?

  THERE WAS A flurry of activity at Pine Hollow early the next morning. Since the return polocrosse match was to take place at Cross County’s stable, all of the players’ horses had to be loaded on vans for the ride over. Carole declared herself in charge of that.

  “Horse’s name?”

  “Pepper,” Lisa said, though she felt silly saying it, since Carole could look up and see which horse it was as easily as she could tell her.

  “Saddle?”

  “Check.”

  “Bridle?”

  “Check.”

  “Grooming bucket?”

  That was as much of that game as she wanted to play. “Carole, I’m standing right here in front of you, holding a horse’s lead rope, saddle, and bridle. How could I possibly have his grooming bucket, too?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Carole said, realizing how silly the question was. “Okay, so load him up and let me know when you’ve got his grooming bucket on board, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Next!” Carole called out.

  STEVIE WAS A mass of confused emotions. She was excited. She was nervous. She was even a little afraid. She wished she could play, but, in a way, she was relieved she couldn’t. Her team would do fine. She knew that. But she didn’t know if they would be able to win. One minute, she decided it didn’t matter very much if they won. All they had to do was try their best. The next minute, she didn’t feel that way at all. All she could think of then was how good it would feel to prove to Phil that her team was better than his. Or would it? She didn’t know. And, with Carole and Max calling her at the same instant, she didn’t have time to figure it out.

  “Stevie, you’ve got to make sure we’ve got extra racquets and balls. If our equipment breaks, we could have to forfeit!”

  “Stevie, did you call Cross County to find out where we should unload our horse vans?” Max asked.

  “Extra racquets are in the storage bin in the first van,” she told Carole. “Cross County says we have to unload behind their barn and we can use the paddock right there for our horses,” she told Max. “Okay?”

  “Okay,” Carole said.

  “Nice job,” Max added.

  And they were off.

  WHEN THEY ARRIVED at Cross County, Stevie realized that she’d left her crutches at Pine Hollow. Although she had been putting weight on her foot, she wasn’t sure how she’d do without anything to lean on.

  Phil saw her sitting in the open door of the van, uncertainly contemplating the ground in front of her. “What’s the problem?” he asked.

  “I forgot my crutches,” she told him.

  “Here, I’ll help you,” he said.

  He gave her a boost off of the van seat and helped her stand, allowing her to test putting some weight on the ankle.

  “Okay?” he asked. She nodded. It hurt a little, but she thought she could walk. She reached forward with her sore ankle to step.

  “Here, put your arm around my shoulder and lean on me,” he suggested.

  Stevie did that. She found, at first, that it seemed almost odd to walk without the crutches she’d gotten used to. But, with Phil’s help, it was okay. He took her over to the edge of the playing field and found a seat for her where she could see everything that was going on.

  “I’ve got to leave you now,” he said. “But I’ll see you later. And, good luck, okay?”

  He leaned forward and kissed her softly on her cheek. Then he was gone.

  What a nice guy, Stevie thought. I’m really lucky to know somebody as nice as that.

  AS WITH THE last match, the players drew numbers and letters for their squads. Carole, Marie, and Lisa were Attack, Center, and Defense on the A squad. Adam, Betsy, and Polly were the B squad. Again, the match was to be four chukkas of six minutes each, with two minutes between the chukkas. The A squad would play the first and third chukkas. The B squad would play second and fourth.

  Phil was on Cross County’s B squad. Lisa was a little relieved that there would be no direct competition between The Saddle Club and Phil. When it came to competition with Phil, even indirect competition was as much as Stevie could stand!

  Then Mr. Baker announced that play would begin in five minutes.

  The teams rushed to finish tacking up their horses and checking their equipment. Lisa found the racquet she liked the best and located Carole’s for her too. “Nervous?” she asked.

  “A little,” Carole said. “But not about the game. I’m nervous about Stevie!”

  “Me, too,” Lisa confessed. “Every time she gets this I’m-better-than-Phil bug, we seem to suffer. Remember how it was at riding camp?”

  “Too well,” Carole said. “So I guess we’d better get out there and win this one for the Gipper.”

  “The what?”

  Watching old movies was one of Carole’s favorite activities with her father. She sometimes forgot that not everybody had seen The Knute Rockne Story. “Some other time,” she said. “Let’s just say, for now, that we should do our best.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  Carole helped Marie mount Comanche and they all did high fives. “High fifteen!” Carole announced. They were ready then.

  The girls trotted onto the playing field and lined up next to the Cross County team. The Cross County A team looked curiously at Carole, Marie, and Lisa. Lisa had the funniest feeling they were licking their chops. There was no question that they’d enjoyed beating Horse Wise the last time. Lisa decided she’d do her best to see that they might not have as much fun this time!

  “Begin play!” Mr. Baker announced, tossing the ball between the teams.

  Lisa kept her eye on the ball as it came toward her. She reached out and up with her racquet, swiped at it, and was delighted to discover that she had actually caught the ball on the toss-in.

  She heard Stevie cheer from the sidelines. Now, if only she could think what would be the right thing to do with the ball.

  “Throw it here!” Marie called to her.

  That made sense. Marie was down the field toward the goal they were shooting for. Lisa held her racquet firmly, took a swing, and the ball sailed out of her racquet—toward Marie, just like it was supposed to!

  “Yeahhhhh!” Stevie yelled.

  Marie reached out for the ball, but the toss was long and she couldn’t get it. The Cross County Center picked it up. This called for some defense! Marie maneuvered Comanche over to face the Center’s horse so she would pass him on his right side, where he carried his racquet. Marie felt like a jousting knight as she gave Comanche a signal to canter. She took aim when they neared the other rider, and she batted his racquet from below. The ball popped out. Marie caught it in midair.

  “Raaaahhhhh!” Stevie yelled.

  Marie spotted Carole nearby. She bounce-passed the ball over to her. Carole was near the penalty line. She couldn’t carry the ball over it and Marie wasn’t allowed to cross it. Marie rode Comanche right up to the line and waited. As Carole approached the line, she tossed the ball to Marie. Once she was over it, Marie tossed it back. Then, just as they had been practicing, Carole turned toward the goal, took aim, and tossed. The ball passed right between the goalposts.

  “Score!” Mr. Baker called.

  “Yippeeeeee!” yelled Stevie. So did all of the Horse Wise cheering section.

  There wasn’t time for congratulations, though, because play resumed right away. They lined up again. Cross County got the ball on the toss-in. Lisa went down to the goal area right away to protect against a scoring attempt. The Cross County team was good at passing the ball
among themselves, but they couldn’t move it down the field fast enough to escape the strong defense of Horse Wise. Carole and Marie worked together, and, when one pass went wild, Carole was the first to get to the loose ball. She scooped it up and headed back up the field toward the goal.

  This time, Cross County stopped her in time. Their Attack hit her stick, and the ball bounced out-of-bounds. That meant another toss-in.

  Nobody caught the ball. It bounced on the ground. There was a free-for-all as the players tried to pick it up. The result was that the ball got knocked out-of-bounds again. Once again, Mr. Baker tossed it in.

  Carole caught it. She tilted her racquet, trying to trap the ball to defend against somebody hitting her racquet. She turned Starlight around and headed for the goal. She found herself being pursued by three players from Cross County—one of whom was their Defense player, who just wanted to beat Carole to the goal. The field was completely open ahead of her.

  Carole saw the penalty line approaching and knew she couldn’t carry the ball over herself. She looked around desperately, hoping to find Marie or Lisa there to help her out. The trouble was that Carole had gotten such a head start on everybody that not even her teammates were in the neighborhood. Bounce it, she told herself. It was the only way. She was going to have to bounce it on the ground and then pick it up on the other side of the line. It was sort of like dribbling in basketball, only on a moving horse, using a long-handled racquet, and it wasn’t anywhere near as easy. Nevertheless, she didn’t have a choice.

  Carole adjusted the angle of her racquet, lifted the stick, turned it over, and tossed the ball out onto the ground as hard as she could. It smacked off the turf, sailed over the penalty line, and rose high into the air. Carole thought it was almost waiting for her as it floated. She flew over the penalty line after it, caught it in her racquet, and then immediately shot for the goal.