“You girls can chatter all you want while you’re having your sodas. Lisa, perhaps you don’t know it, but our rule is that there is no talking during class.”
Lisa felt her face flush.
“I’m the one who was talking, Max,” Veronica volunteered.
Max’s lips formed a thin line, but he said nothing to Veronica. He just continued with his instructions to the class. “Now, we’ll finish our exercise for today with figure eights. Carole, you and Polly please lead off across the ring.…”
When the class was over Lisa just wanted to remove Pepper’s tack and go home. She didn’t want to talk with anybody over sodas in the tack room. She hoped her mother was waiting outside so she could go right home and escape to her homework.
“Here’s your soda, Lisa,” Veronica said, handing it to her. “Meg got the soda whip, but I thought you’d like to have yours right away. You looked thirsty to me.”
“Thanks,” Lisa said automatically, accepting the cold can. She took a drink. It did taste good to her. “And thanks, too, for telling Max you were talking. How come he didn’t get mad? I thought he was all set to blow up at me.”
“Oh, there are ways to manage Max,” Veronica said airily. “Say, would you like to come to my house on Saturday after class? Maybe stay for dinner? I can talk my mother into letting us order a pizza—with everything.”
“Uh, sure,” Lisa answered automatically. At least she was making a friend—one her mother would approve of—even if it wasn’t the one she wanted. Then she realized that by agreeing to go to Veronica’s after class on Saturday, she was agreeing to go to another class. Her mother would like that, too. Deep down, she wondered how she felt about becoming friends with Veronica, the girl who “managed” Max and ordered the stable boy around. But maybe a friend like that was better than no friend at all. Maybe.
CAROLE TOOK HER time untacking Delilah. She’d been hoping to have time to visit with Stevie, but Stevie had dashed out, spilling her soda as she went, as soon as she’d untacked her horse. Carole had to wait for her dad and he’d be at least another half-hour. She decided to groom Delilah, who was stalled next to Pepper.
Carole didn’t mean to overhear the conversation between Lisa and Veronica, but the walls were only boards and there was open space at the top.
To Carole, Veronica was the most stuck-up person she’d ever known. And she liked to collect admirers. It sounded like Lisa was being recruited for the collection. That was too bad, too, because Carole thought Lisa was nice as well as smart. Maybe, Carole thought, if she hadn’t been so busy with the horses and if Stevie hadn’t been so busy with her jobs, they would have invited Lisa to TD’s with them. That would have been nice. But it was too late for that now.
Carole picked up the currycomb and began working from the top of Delilah’s neck, brushing vigorously. The last thing she heard was Veronica’s whiny voice. “Tell your mother you’re coming to my house and you’ll be home about, oh, ten o’clock on Saturday.”
That meant that from the end of class until it was time to go home, Lisa would be with Veronica for almost seven hours. Carole was glad she wasn’t the one who was going to Veronica’s. She wouldn’t want to spend that much time with Veronica—ever!
LISA FELT REALLY good right after class on Saturday. Max had worked with her a lot during class. At first, it seemed like he was picking on her, but then, as she listened to him, she realized that he was trying to help her—and that if she listened to him, it would work.
They were working on a posting trot. Lisa had to rise and sit with the beat of the horse’s hooves. Two things about it were difficult. The first was sensing the beat. The second was keeping her balance. But Max was patient and she was learning. Even Patch, whom she was riding again today, seemed to have patience with her.
“He’s in a better mood today than when I rode him before,” she said to Max.
“Why do you say that?” he asked.
“Because he’s easier to ride today.”
“Maybe,” was all that Max said. “Okay, now up, down, up, down, up, down …”
Lisa tried her hardest to follow his instructions, and by the end of the lesson, she actually thought she had a good idea of what she needed to do.
“Now, instead of standing straight up, swing your hips forward and up—yes! That’s it! Very good, Lisa Nice job!”
Lisa could hardly believe it. She’d gotten a real compliment from Max. She had enjoyed the lesson and—although she hated to admit it to herself—she was really having fun riding. Another nice thing that happened was that Max kept telling Stevie to keep her mind on her riding. Lisa was still smarting from Stevie’s trick. They hadn’t spoken to each other since the first lesson. That was okay with Lisa.
Not only were all these nice things happening, but Lisa was making friends, too. Or at least one. This was the day she would go to Veronica’s house.
Her mother had been somewhat horrified by the idea of Lisa returning home as late as ten o’clock, but when Lisa reminded her she’d be at Veronica’s, Mrs. Atwood agreed.
As soon as class was over, however, things began going a little sour for Lisa. And then they went straight downhill from there. While she was still untacking Patch in his stall, Veronica appeared.
“Aren’t you done yet? I don’t want to keep my mother waiting,” Veronica told her. Lisa squirmed at the idea of keeping Mrs. diAngelo waiting. She tried to hurry, but the more she tried, the more trouble she had with the tack.
“I’ve got the bridle all tangled and I can’t loosen the girth,” she complained.
“Here, I’ll help you,” Veronica said, sighing. She finished the job quickly, though she made it clear she wasn’t happy about having to do Lisa’s work for her. Then, as they carried the tack back to the tack room, Polly Giacomin came up to Veronica. She barely seemed to notice that Lisa was standing next to Veronica.
“Uh, hi, Veronica,” she said. “My birthday’s this week and I’m going to have a party. A magician is coming, too. Would you like to come?”
Lisa thought it was rude of Polly to invite Veronica to a party right in front of her, even if they weren’t friends. After all, what were telephones for? But before she had a chance to feel really hurt, Veronica raised one eyebrow and stared at Polly with a blank look of surprise. “I’m busy,” she told her.
“It’s Friday afternoon,” Polly said, apparently realizing too late that Veronica meant she’d be busy whenever Polly had a party. Polly looked down at the ground as her face turned red in embarrassment. She turned and walked away.
“Imagine that,” Veronica said to Lisa. “Polly Giacomin thinks I’d go to her party. A magician!” She laughed out loud. “Polly probably expects her friends to wear paper hats, too! Is she for real?”
Lisa stared at Veronica uncertainly. She loved to see magic shows. A birthday party with a magician seemed pretty neat to her. Lisa couldn’t figure out why Veronica objected to a magic show, but she had the distinct impression that arguing about it—or even asking about it—wouldn’t help her friendship with Veronica in the least. She laid the saddle on its rack in the tack room and put the bridle on the bracket. “Come on, let’s go meet your mother,” she said.
Veronica looked out the window toward the parking area. “I don’t think she’s here yet,” she said.
Lisa decided not to remind Veronica that she’d been rushing her for her mother’s sake only a few minutes ago. Right then it seemed to her that about the worst thing that could happen would be if Veronica were to give her the same glare she’d given Polly Giacomin. Lisa kept quiet.
Mrs. diAngelo came to pick the girls up twenty minutes late. She was driving a Mercedes, and there were two large dogs in the back seat, tracking mud on the leather upholstery. Veronica jumped in the front seat, leaving Lisa to sit in the rear with the dogs. Lisa liked dogs okay, but these Labrador retrievers didn’t seem to like her. They certainly weren’t being very friendly. She spent the entire trip to Veronica’s house trying
to get enough space on the seat to sit. Neither Veronica nor her mother paid any attention to her problem. They were locked in battle in the front seat on the subject of a new pair of breeches for Veronica.
“Did you see hers, Mom?” Veronica said, pointing to Lisa in the rear. Mrs. diAngelo looked at Lisa in the mirror. “That’s the kind I want—only in hunter green.”
“Those won’t suit you at all,” Mrs. diAngelo said firmly. As she went on to describe exactly what was wrong with Lisa’s riding pants, Lisa squirmed. She couldn’t wait until the ride was over. By the time they arrived at the diAngelo house, Veronica and her mother weren’t speaking to each other. But Lisa suspected Veronica would wear her mother down eventually.
Lisa couldn’t imagine arguing with her mother until she wore her down. And she didn’t think she’d like to have a mother who could be worn down like that. Even more important, she couldn’t imagine taking up an argument with her mother in front of a guest.
The diAngelo house was grander than anything Lisa had ever seen, except in movies or on guided tours. It was a big old white colonial house, with a two-story portico in the front. The center of the house was three stories high. The wings were each two stories. The whole house was surrounded by perfectly trimmed bushes and glorious shade trees carefully spaced in the acres of lush grass, all set against a background of rolling Virginia hills. Behind the house, Lisa spotted a swimming pool, a garden shed that was larger than most garages she’d seen, and a guest house as big as her own home.
She swallowed deeply and closed her eyes to see if the house would disappear. When she opened them, the house was still there and Veronica was staring at her.
“Come on, Lisa. We don’t have all day.”
The dogs tumbled out of the car in front of Lisa, running into the beautiful house with their muddy feet. The girls followed them in.
The rest of the day was mostly a blur to Lisa. She had lived all her life in nice middle-class neighborhoods and nice middle-class homes. Veronica had apparently spent her life living in a palace. Lisa had a lot to learn about living in luxury, but Veronica knew it all. She knew how to get the maid to deliver a snack to their room. She knew how to get the gardener to vacuum three leaves off the bottom of the pool before they swam. She knew how to get the chauffeur to go for the pizza even after her mother had said the girls would eat whatever the cook made that night.
Lisa shook her head in amazement. No wonder Veronica had known how to order Red O’Malley to saddle Pepper for her. And actually, come to think of it, she seemed to have a good idea of how to order Lisa around. She never asked Lisa what they would do next. She told her. Lisa didn’t mind too much because most of it was new to her, but there was a part of it that made her uncomfortable.
After they’d finished their pizza, Veronica made another announcement.
“Mom stopped at the shopping center to pick up a prescription before riding class and I snuck into Sights ’n’ Sounds and rented this neat horror movie she wouldn’t let me see. We’ll watch it now.” Veronica slipped the tape into the VCR in her room, which was connected up to her television.
Lisa looked at Veronica’s clock radio and saw that it was eight-thirty. If she watched the movie, she’d never be able to be home by ten. Besides that, she didn’t want to watch a horror movie, whether Mrs. diAngelo permitted it or not.
“I think it’s time for me to go home,” Lisa said.
“Home!” Veronica said, as if the very idea were a personal insult to her.
“Well, it’s getting late, and I don’t want Mom to have to come out after ten. She’d be annoyed, you know?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Veronica said. “Your mother doesn’t have to come here. We can have the chauffeur drive you home. It’s no trouble at all.”
Though Lisa wasn’t crazy about the idea of a chauffeur driving her, it would solve one problem. She knew that if her mother had a chance of being invited into the diAngelo house, she’d want the grand tour of absolutely every inch of the mansion.
Veronica pushed the start button on her remote control, piling the pillows from her sofa on the floor to watch the movie in comfort.
“I think I’d better go home now,” Lisa said firmly. Veronica gave her a dark look. Lisa felt cornered. “That pizza was a bit much, you know. I think it was the sausage. My stomach feels a little funny.”
“I’ll have the chauffeur get the car now,” Veronica said, reaching for the intercom on her telephone.
CAROLE CARRIED A large bowl of fluffy, salty, buttery popcorn into the living room with one hand. The other hand held two cans of soda, precariously balanced, and two napkins.
“Ten hut!” she said sternly.
Her father, who had been stretched out on the sofa, jumped to attention. “I knew I smelled something wonderful,” he told her, helping her unload the sodas.
“Well, it’s quarter of nine and I know that Casablanca is on at nine. It’s no fun watching a movie without buttered popcorn—and since you made dinner, I thought it was my turn for popcorn.”
“There’s still a front-row seat available, too,” Colonel Hanson said, pulling a lounge chair up near the sofa, which he’d claimed for himself. Carole slid a small table between them and put the bowl on it. She had just settled into her seat when the phone rang.
“I’ll get it, honey,” said the colonel. “I want to get the salt anyway.”
“Okay,” Carole agreed, digging into the popcorn, which was salty enough for her taste.
Carole didn’t know who was on the phone, but her father was chatting so agreeably that she suspected it was Stevie. The first time the two of them had met, they’d discovered their mutual passion for old jokes. Some of them were pretty corny but Stevie and Colonel Hanson seemed to love them.
Carole heard her father roar with laughter. “That’s a good one. I’d forgotten that!” he said.
Carole stood up and walked into the kitchen, where her father was talking on the wall phone.
“Come on, Dad. Let me talk to Stevie.”
“My daughter is pushing me around again, Stevie,” he joked into the phone. “Next time we talk, though, I’m going to tell you the one about the gorilla on the golf course. Can’t wait, can you?” he said before relinquishing the phone to Carole.
“Hi,” Carole said. “What’s up?”
“Oh, I’m just exhausted,” Stevie said matter-of-factly. “I spent the whole afternoon after riding class going from door to door in my neighborhood, giving everybody fliers I had copied so they could tell me if they have work for me to do. Nobody did. They all just wanted to invite me in for cookies. Remind me next time not to accept cookies from Mrs. Crocker. She makes these health-food things and they’re disgusting.”
Carole laughed. Stevie then told her about the dogs who had chased her and about some people who were really rude to her. She told about one house that smelled funny and it turned out they were just putting up new wallpaper and did Carole know how funny new wallpaper smelled? She told Carole everything that had gone on. But there was one thing that hadn’t gone on at all. Nobody had asked her to do any work.
“No luck, huh?” Carole asked.
“Oh, they’ll call me eventually,” Stevie assured her.
“But will ‘eventually’ be soon enough for the MTO?”
“Of course it will,” Stevie snapped.
Stevie’s moodiness was sometimes more than Carole could take. “What makes you think that?” Carole shot back. And then, wary of Stevie’s fiery temper, she spoke quietly. “You know, you’ve really got me worried,” Carole said. “The MTO is just two weeks from now and you’re going to have a hard time earning so much money so quickly. I mean, what kind of jobs have you been offered so far? Cleaning pools, cleaning gutters? You can’t do those things, can you?”
“No way,” Stevie said. “I ended up giving both of those jobs to my brothers.”
“But Stevie—” Carole began.
“Don’t worry about me, Carole,” Stevie
said. She said it with such assurance that Carole was tempted to believe her. Did Stevie have something up her sleeve?
“To tell you the truth, I think it’s me I’m worried about,” Carole confessed. “I really hate the idea of going on that trip without you. Can you actually imagine me and Veronica and maybe that new girl, Lisa, on the camp-out? I’ll spend the entire three days telling Veronica to take care of Cobalt herself.”
“But you won’t let her, will you?”
“No, of course I won’t. She hasn’t got the first idea of how to take care of that beautiful horse of hers. Cobalt would be better off living in the wild than with Veronica.”
“Why don’t you talk her into letting him run free and then you can capture him and own him yourself,” Stevie suggested.
“That’s the most sensible thing you’ve said tonight. And it doesn’t make any sense either,” Carole teased.
“Thanks, pal. I’m going to sit here now and wait for my customers to swamp me with calls. You go watch that movie with your father. Oh, and ask him for me: What’s handsome and purple and says ‘Play it again, Sam’? Bye!”
Carole hung up the phone and returned to the living room, where the movie was just beginning. Carole asked her father the riddle. He chuckled.
“What’s the answer?” she asked him.
“Humphrey Bogrape,” he told her.
Carole laughed, but it didn’t make her feel any better about Stevie’s chances of earning enough money.
“ARE YOU THE young boy who is looking for chores to do?” the voice on the phone asked. The phone had rung right after Stevie had hung up with Carole.
“Yes,” Stevie answered. She didn’t want to disagree with a potential customer.
“Well, the beds under my hedges need cleaning. Can you rake them out for me?”
Gardening work like that was hot, sweaty, and unpleasant. Stevie didn’t even like to rake leaves in the cool weather in the fall.
“I’ll pay two-fifty an hour,” the woman continued.
Horse Crazy Page 4
