Mallory and the Dream Horse

by Ann M. Martin

  “My family’s fine. It’s me. I went to this party, and it was just terrible.”

  There was a long pause. Finally Jessi said, “The worst thing that happened is that you went to a terrible party?”

  “I know it sounds stupid. But Amber invited me to her birthday party.”

  “Who’s Amber?

  “She’s from my riding class. I’m sure I mentioned her before.”

  “A girl from your riding class invited you to her party,” Jessi said slowly.

  “Yes, and it was awful. There must have been fifty kids there. They had these monster video screens, and lots of dancing, and a swimming pool, and a huge table covered with plates of sandwiches and pizza —”

  “Sounds terrible,” Jessi said drily.

  “No, the party was just fine. The trouble was, I didn’t know anyone and —”

  “Did you introduce yourself?” Jessi cut in, saying exactly what I would have expected my mom to say.

  “I tried, but no one wanted to talk to me. Instead I wound up drinking gallons of punch and feeling stupid.”

  “Gee, that’s too bad.”

  Jessi didn’t sound sympathetic at all. And I felt really silly calling to complain about a party she hadn’t been invited to. But it wasn’t just the party I wanted to talk to her about. It was everything — my rotten riding lessons, my fear of horses, and worst of all, the strained conversations she and I’d been having recently. I just couldn’t seem to find the right words.

  After a few moments of awful silence, I finally mumbled, “Listen, Jessi, maybe I had too much punch or something. I think I need to lie down.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  I went to bed as soon as I hung up the phone, but I barely slept. My dreams were full of strange people in riding boots eating mouthfuls of cake, and big angry horses chasing me around swimming pools filled with punch.

  My final lesson had been scheduled for Thursday afternoon. I guess the party hadn’t been so bad after all because the kids in my class seemed a little friendlier to me. Amber’s birthday party gave us something to talk about. The kids would say things like, “Wasn’t Amber’s party a blast?” and I would answer, “It was terrific!” But I still didn’t feel part of the group. Maybe because I still hadn’t gotten the right clothes. Or maybe because deep down I knew I wasn’t comfortable around horses anymore. Would I always be afraid of them?

  Anyway, as I said, it was my final lesson. I should have been celebrating, but I just couldn’t. Why? Because I still had to go through the horse show the following Sunday. Worst of all, my whole family and the entire membership of the BSC were planning to come to see it.

  I had tried to keep quiet about the show, but Kendallwood Farm sent out little notices to our parents. Then my mom told Stacey’s mom, and she told Stacey, and that was it. I was stuck.

  Now all I could think about was the prospect of making a total fool of myself in front of everybody.

  “Mal, you’ll be riding Duke today,” Lauren called as I entered the stable that morning. My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach.

  “Who’s riding Pax?” I asked. Even though I had ridden Pax just three times, he was the only horse I felt comfortable with.

  “Amber requested him.”

  I reached for Duke’s bridle and reluctantly started to head toward his stall. During the course of our lessons we had been taught to bridle and saddle our horses by ourselves. By now it was such a familiar routine that I hardly thought about it.

  I shoved my left hand into the pocket of my jean jacket and felt the carrot I’d brought as a horse treat. I had put sugar cubes in the other pocket. I’d give the sugar to Duke but the carrot was reserved for Pax. Even if I wasn’t going to ride him I could at least say hello and give him a treat.

  Pax saw me coming and stuck his big beautiful head over his stall door.

  “Hi, Pax,” I whispered.

  He whinnied softly as I rubbed his velvety nose. The warm, moist air from his nostrils tickled the palm of my hand. After I had petted him for a few seconds he snorted and nudged the pocket of my jacket.

  “Oh, you clever boy. You knew I brought you a snack.” I took a step backwards. “Well, maybe I won’t give it to you today,” I teased him.

  Pax tossed his head impatiently and pawed at the ground.

  “Okay, okay, don’t be such a baby.” I giggled, then pulled out the prized carrot and held it toward him. He devoured it in two bites. “Hey. Slow down.” Pax blinked his big brown eyes at me innocently and with a loud crunch finished the last bit of carrot.

  As soon as he’d swallowed, Pax nudged my other pocket, where the sugar cubes were. I shook my head.

  “Sorry, fella. I have to give those to Duke. That’s to make sure he’ll be nice to me today.”

  Pax seemed to understand and pressed his soft muzzle against my cheek. I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him a strong hug.

  “Boy, I wish I were riding you in the show,” I mumbled into his mane. “Then maybe I wouldn’t be so scared.”

  By now most of the others in the class had arrived, and I had to hurry to get Duke’s bridle and saddle on. Putting on the bridle is my least favorite thing. First of all, you have to stick your finger in the side of the horse’s mouth to get him to take the bit. Then you have to pull the leather part over his ears — which most horses hate — and finally you fasten it under his chin.

  Duke was pretty good about it today. He especially liked the sugar cube I gave him as a reward. Next I put on his saddle blanket and saddle. This part can get tricky because many horses will hold their breath when you cinch the saddle under their belly. That way, when they exhale, the saddle fits loosely, which is more comfortable for them, but a disaster for the rider. After a couple of trots around the ring, the saddle slips sideways and you find yourself lying on the ground.

  After I saddled Duke, I led him to the ring and joined the rest of the kids, who were already astride their horses. This was the part I really dreaded — getting on the horse’s back. There was no turning back after that. I took a deep breath, then muttered, “Here goes nothing.”

  I slipped the toe of my boot into the stirrup and, after several hops, managed to swing my leg over Duke’s back. Then I grasped the reins and guided Duke out of the stable into the ring.

  Amber was the last to join us. She and Pax trotted into the ring and took their position between Kelsey and Allison. Lauren, who had been standing patiently in the center of the ring, clapped her hands together and smiled at the class. “Well, folks, this is our final lesson. Next week is the horse show, where we find out if anything I’ve taught you has sunk in.”

  A couple of kids giggled and Lauren winked at them. “I’m really proud of all of you, and I know that next week you’ll do splendidly.”

  I wished I felt as confident as Lauren sounded. She clapped her hands together. “So. Our plan for today is to go through the exercises just as you will be doing them at the show.”

  She instructed us to walk our horses in a circle around the ring. That was easy enough. Duke fell in line behind Kelsey, who was riding Twilight, without any protest, and I breathed a little easier. So far, so good.

  “Heads held high, backs straight, elbows in, toes up, heels down,” Lauren reminded us. “Good. All right, class. Reverse directions and trot. Be sure to change your diagonal.”

  “Diagonals,” I said glumly. They were very confusing. You have to sit for a beat when you change directions.

  “Smooth post, class,” Lauren barked. “Some of you look like a watermelon bouncing around in your saddle.”

  I was so busy worrying about my diagonal that I completely forgot about posture or style.

  “Reverse directions and canter.”

  Cantering was the last gait we had learned to do. It was the easiest one, besides walking. You simply sat in the saddle and let your pelvis rock back and forth as if you were riding a r
ocking horse while the horse did an easy gallop around the ring. The hard part was making sure your horse took the right lead — which meant starting the canter with the correct foot. Luckily, Duke did take the right lead and I started to feel a little more confident.

  The final exercise of the day was to keep our horses standing perfectly still. Sounds easy, doesn’t it? Well, it was a disaster. I think Duke was all pumped up from getting to run and still wanted to canter. He skipped sideways, knocking into Allison’s horse. Then he tried to get out of the line we’d formed by backing up.

  “Mallory, be firm,” Lauren instructed. “You, too, Kelsey.”

  I stole a glance at Kelsey and saw that she was having more trouble than me, trying to keep Twilight under control.

  “Now remember,” Lauren said, “the judges will come down the line to check how well you carry yourself, and after that it will all be over.”

  Several of the students let out moans of disappointment, but not me. As it was, it seemed like the horse show was going to be endless.

  If I can just make it through without falling off, I told myself, I’ll be happy.

  “Miss Kendall?” David raised his hand. “What horses will we be riding in the show?”

  Lauren snapped her fingers. “I almost forgot. Thank you for reminding me, David.” She took off her hunt cap and, taking several pieces of paper from her pocket, placed them inside. “We’re going to draw lots. I’ve numbered these slips from one through six. Whoever pulls out number one chooses first.” As she shook the hat, Lauren added, “But remember, in next week’s horse show, the judges will only judge the rider — not the horse. That way no one will have an advantage.”

  Lauren walked around the ring, and each of us reached into the hat and drew out a piece of paper. I was afraid to open mine. I squeezed my eyes shut and whispered, “Please, oh, please, let mine be number one.”

  But before I even opened my paper, Kelsey squealed, “I get to pick first. I got number one.”

  My heart sank. Of course Kelsey would pick Pax. He was the perfect horse. But to my surprise she chose a chestnut named Brandy.

  “Who has number two?” Lauren asked, looking around the ring. No one said anything, and I realized I hadn’t checked my own number. I unfolded it and gasped in surprise.

  “That’s me,” I said, waving the little piece of paper over my head. “And I choose” — I turned and smiled at the beautiful white horse — “Pax.”

  I didn’t even pay attention to which horses the rest of the class chose. I was too giddy with happiness. For one last time, Pax would be all mine. And right when I really needed him. Just in time for the horse show. Things weren’t so bleak after all.

  Dawn’s Disaster happened the following Thursday afternoon. I had bicycled out to Kendallwood Farm to give Pax a carrot and to try to relax my nerves about the horse show. It didn’t help much. Pax was as sweet as ever, but I was still tense. The least little noise would make me jump. It’s a good thing I wasn’t the one baby-sitting for Nina. I probably would have cried louder than she had. Anyway, I think Dawn handled the situation perfectly.

  What happened was this. While Nina was in the laundry room staring at the dryer, Mrs. Marshall took Dawn aside and gave her some last-minute instructions.

  “The kids can each have yogurt and a graham cracker in about half an hour,” she said. “By that time, Blankie should be done. Just pull it out, give it a quick shake —”

  “And hand it to Nina,” Dawn finished for her.

  Mrs. Marshall smiled. “She’ll probably take it from you.” She shook her head, making a little clucking noise. “Nina attached herself to that blanket almost the moment she was born. She’s never been without it.”

  “Has she ever lost it?” Dawn asked.

  “One Christmas we left it at a relative’s house and didn’t discover it until two hours later. We had to turn the car around immediately and drive back to get it. Nina was practically in hysterics.”

  Dawn whistled softly between her teeth. “Wow.”

  “Wow is right.” Mrs. Marshall heaved a sigh of frustration. “That blanket has been a big problem. I’m just glad Eleanor isn’t obsessed with a blanket or toy.”

  Mrs. Marshall kissed Eleanor, who was playing with several pots and pans on the kitchen floor, and then called good-bye to Nina. After Mrs. Marshall had gone, Dawn joined Eleanor, who had set one of the saucepans on her head.

  “That makes a beautiful hat,” Dawn told her.

  Eleanor toddled over to the stove, where she peered at her reflection in the glass of the oven door. “Pretty!” she exclaimed.

  “Nina, come look at your sister’s new hat,” Dawn called.

  “I can’t,” Nina replied. “I’m with Blankie. Tell her to come here.”

  Dawn led Eleanor into the laundry room. Nina was still seated on a step stool, while the dryer went around and around.

  “Look at Eleanor’s hat,” Dawn said.

  Eleanor waved the pan proudly in the air and then banged it twice against the side of the washer. Luckily Dawn pulled it out of Eleanor’s hand before she could do any damage to the paint. Eleanor hardly noticed the pan was gone. She continued to bang on the washer with her bare hand.

  Nina covered her ears to shut out the loud, hollow sound but continued staring at the dryer.

  “That’s concentration,” Dawn murmured.

  Eleanor stopped pounding on the washer and abruptly declared, “Eat. Let’s eat.”

  Dawn checked her watch. Nearly fifteen minutes had passed since Mrs. Marshall had left the house. She figured it would be okay to give the girls their snack a few minutes early. “All right, Eleanor. It’s time for yogurt and graham crackers.”

  “Yay!” Eleanor followed Dawn to the kitchen.

  Dawn lifted Eleanor into her high chair and, taking a carton of blueberry yogurt out of the refrigerator, divided it neatly onto two plates.

  Eleanor beat her spoon against the plastic tray.

  “Here you go,” Dawn said, patting her on the head. “And some grahams.”

  The buzzer sounded from the laundry room, and Nina bellowed, “Blankie is done! Let him out, Dawn. Please let him out.”

  The way Nina talked, it sounded like Blankie had been locked inside a little cage.

  “He’s all by himself,” she continued. “He wants to get out. Hurry, Dawn!”

  “Just a minute,” Dawn said, setting the yogurt on Eleanor’s tray and the box of graham crackers next to it. Then she ran to the laundry room, where Nina was jumping up and down.

  “Careful,” Dawn cautioned as she opened the door to the dryer. “Don’t put your hand inside, Nina. This is very hot.”

  “I won’t. Just take Blankie out.”

  Dawn bent down and peered inside the dryer. She couldn’t find the thin gray blanket at first. It was plastered against the side of the round drum. She reached gingerly for a corner of it, trying not to touch the hot metal. “Got it,” she said as she felt her fingers close around the soft material.

  “Give him to me,” Nina cried. “Please!”

  A harsh tearing sound echoed inside the dryer.

  “Oh, my gosh!” Dawn gasped. She held up a ragged scrap of gray material. It had separated from the rest of the blanket.

  “My Blankieeee!” Nina’s howl could be heard two houses away. “You killed him.” She snatched the square of material away from Dawn and plunged her hand inside the hot dryer. Then she howled in pain.

  Dawn was shocked by what Nina had done, but it took her only a second to spring into action. She scooped Nina up in her arms and carried her into the kitchen, where she turned on the cold-water faucet. “Hold your hand under there,” she told Nina. “It will make the burn feel better.” Dawn was relieved to see that Nina had burned only a fingertip.

  Still, tears were pouring down Nina’s cheeks. Dawn didn’t know if it was because of her finger or because of Blankie. Nina let her know almost instantly.

  “Blankie!” she wailed. “
I want my Blankie.”

  Until then, Eleanor had been eating contentedly in her high chair. Now her own chin began to quiver.

  “It’s all right, Eleanor,” Dawn reassured her. “Your sister burned her finger. But it will be all better in a second.”

  “It’s not my finger.” Nina pulled her hand out from under the faucet and stumbled back toward the laundry room. “I want my Blankie. Please give him to me.”

  “Nina, I’ll get him for you.” Dawn ran ahead of her. “Sit on the stool and I’ll hand him to you.”

  Dawn reached into the dryer once more but when she touched the material, the same thing happened again. Blankie pulled apart like cotton candy. “This is a disaster,” she said to herself.

  Nina saw the next torn piece of blanket and let out a scream louder than the first one.

  “I’m so sorry, Nina.” Dawn reached out to comfort her, but Nina pounded her shoulder with her fists.

  “You did it,” she wailed. “You killed Blankie.”

  Dawn stood up. Her mind was racing. She turned back to the dryer, pulled out another square of material, and cried, “Look! This Blankie is the perfect size to fit in your pocket.” She leaned forward and stuffed it into the pocket of Nina’s T-shirt. Before Nina could say anything, Dawn grabbed another torn square. “And this little Blankie will fit into your purse.”

  Nina stopped wailing and wiped the back of her hand across her nose. Tears continued to steam down her cheeks, but she was intrigued by what Dawn was doing.

  “This Blankie is just right to tuck up your sleeve,” Dawn continued cheerfully.

  Nina giggled through her hiccups. Dawn found another piece of the shredded blanket and tucked it into Nina’s shoe.

  “Oh, look, he wants to go for a walk. And this one wants to hide in your back pocket.”

  The tears dried on Nina’s cheeks as she began to enjoy the new game Dawn had invented. By the time Dawn was through fishing out the remains of Blankie from the dryer, he was hidden all over Nina. This gave Dawn another great idea.

  “Hey!” she exclaimed. “Now you can carry Blankie everywhere you go, and nobody will ever know. He’s hidden. In fact, you can keep Blankie all over the place — a piece in your room, a piece in your cubby at school, a piece in your pocket — and he’ll be your secret.”