Stagecoach

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Stagecoach Page 8

by Bonnie Bryant


  “Or at least want to be in a lot more plays,” Carole said.

  For the second time that day Lisa was overwhelmed by her friends’ concern. She could hardly believe they’d been so worried she would quit riding. Her only thought lately had been how much she missed Pine Hollow and The Saddle Club and how she could get through the play without disappointing her friends, Max, and the rally team anymore. Well, her decision to quit the play would prove, once and for all—to them and herself—that she was truly devoted to riding. “That does it,” Lisa said. “I’m going to give up the part.”

  “What?” Stevie and Carole cried in unison.

  “I’m dropping out of WCCT,” Lisa said.

  “But what about all the people counting on you to play Annie?” Carole asked.

  “They’ll find someone else. I don’t want to let you and Max and Mrs. Reg and Prancer down,” Lisa said. “Besides, my true loyalty is to The Saddle Club and riding, and dropping out will prove it.”

  “True loyalty? But this isn’t a life choice,” Stevie reminded her. “It’s just to help you get through the next two weeks.”

  Lisa stared hard at Stevie. Could it be as simple as that? Had she really blown the whole dilemma way out of proportion? What Stevie said was true: In reality the decision would only affect fourteen days of her life.

  “Yeah, and what about all those lines you memorized?” Carole was saying.

  “But I’d be able to memorize my dressage tests instead,” Lisa heard herself answering, but already her protests seemed feeble.

  “But—but—this is your big chance!” Stevie cried.

  “It’s Prancer’s big chance, too—to prove she can do dressage,” Lisa said.

  “She’ll have other chances,” Carole said flatly.

  “And how do you know you’ll get another lead? Actors can wait years for this kind of thing,” Stevie said indignantly.

  Lisa laughed out loud. Carole and Stevie were actually upset with her saying she would bow out of the play. “Is this The Saddle Club talking?” she asked. “Because it sounds like the Willow Creek Community Theater.”

  Carole and Stevie did not seem to find anything funny. “You’ve got a part to play, missy, and don’t you forget it,” Stevie said.

  “What happened to ‘The show must go on’ and all that?” Carole asked.

  “All right! All right! You win! I’ll play Annie!” Lisa practically shouted. Carole and Stevie shouted and hugged her in excitement and began talking excitedly about coming to see her in the play.

  Lisa breathed a huge inner sigh of relief. Suddenly everything had fallen into place, thanks to talking with her friends. She had put a lot of work into Annie already. And there was no point in breaking her commitment to WCCT. She would do the play, after all—which would probably be a lot of fun—and then get back to riding right afterward. She and Prancer would have a chance before too long. It would be hard not to take part in the rally. She would probably feel left out. “I guess I can still help out behind the scenes, though,” Lisa mused aloud.

  Carole and Stevie nodded. Then they seemed to do a double take. Carole’s jaw dropped. Stevie’s eyes opened wide. A perfect solution to the dressage team’s disorganization and Lisa’s wanting to participate was staring them in the face. “Behind the scenes? Behind the scenes? How could we be such idiots?” Stevie cried.

  “You’re telling me!” Carole exclaimed.

  Lisa was now utterly confused. “Would someone mind telling me why my helping out behind the scenes makes you two idiots?” she asked.

  “Never mind. You’ve got a rehearsal to get to. We’ll talk tonight,” Stevie decided.

  “Right. Your house, okay, Lisa? At nine-twelve, that is? We’ll come over,” Carole said.

  Lisa grinned. She was still on top of things, after all. “Actually, today is Saturday, so my free time is later. It’s nine forty-four tonight,” she said, trying to sound casual.

  “Boy, you’ve really let your schedule go to pot. You can hardly remember a thing,” Stevie kidded her.

  “Anyway, would someone mind informing me what we’re going to be discussing? I am giving up twelve precious minutes, after all,” Lisa joked.

  Stevie and Carole were both about to burst with their idea. They knew Lisa should be on her way, though, and they didn’t want to delay her anymore. Besides, they knew that as soon as they told her the plan, the three of them would simply have to discuss it in detail.

  “Listen,” Carole said, “I’m going to leave it at this: There just might be a way you can still be involved in the rally. In fact, I’m ninety-nine percent sure.”

  “How?” Lisa cried.

  “You’ll find out at nine forty-four,” she answered. With a grin she added, “And I guarantee one thing: Things will look better tomorrow.”

  “But that’s what I’m supposed to say!” Lisa cried. The three of them laughed. It did sound funny to hear Carole giving Lisa’s advice—or Annie’s—to Annie!

  Lisa tried to talk them into telling her the news right away, but Carole and Stevie remained as adamant as two hardened stage mothers. “But it’s pointless for me to go to rehearsal now. I’m already very late, and it’s almost an hour’s walk to the high school from here,” Lisa said.

  Carole looked from her to Stevie. “Stevie, do you notice any faster means of transportation around here?” she asked.

  “Oh, you mean like a bus or a train or something like that?” Stevie asked, playing dumb.

  “Yeah, like a bus or a train, but, well, different.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I’ve always found a horse could travel cross-country pretty fast.”

  “Funny, I’ve found that, too.”

  “You know what else is great about riding?” Stevie asked.

  “No, what?”

  “It really annoys foolish people who don’t like the smell of horses.”

  “I must say that is an added bonus.”

  Lisa stood up and put her hands on her hips, fixing them with a mock glare. “All right,” she asked, “who’s going to give me a leg up?”

  In a flash Carole tossed Lisa up on Starlight and Stevie up on Topside. Then she found a tree stump and hopped on herself, in front of Lisa. “Anna Henchman, here we come!” Stevie yelled.

  It took them ten minutes to ride from the creek to the high-school playing fields. On the way the horses had to splash through a few streams, and the girls got partially soaked. When they hit the fields, Carole and Stevie let them out all the way. They tore across the fields.

  “Are those people in the play?” Carole called back, pointing.

  Lisa stared ahead at the school building. Sure enough, the entire cast was standing outside the auditorium, taking their midrehearsal break. For a split second Lisa felt embarrassed. Then she thought of the entrance she was making as she and her two best friends, mounted on two practically matched bay Thoroughbreds, streaked toward the doors, manes and tails flying. Sensing the importance of the moment, Carole added the extra touch of pulling Starlight up just in the nick of time, like a cowboy in an old Western.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Lisa announced to the group, hopping off smartly, “but I like to make a dramatic entrance.”

  The cast burst into spontaneous applause, whooping and cheering. Carole and Stevie nodded to one another and, as if on cue, took off back across the fields.

  Mr. Ryan put a hand up to his eyes to shield them from the sun. “Who were those masked girls?” he asked.

  “Why, that was the Lone Ranger,” Hollie joked.

  “All right, enough already,” Mrs. Spitz said when the laughter had died down. She sent everyone back into the auditorium except Lisa.

  “Mrs. Spitz? I really am sorry I’m late,” Lisa said.

  Mrs. Spitz looked down at Lisa seriously. “Is this going to be the last time?” she asked. Lisa nodded as vigorously as she could. “Then, look. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure, but I still
think you’re going to do a wonderful job as Annie.”

  “I know I will,” Lisa promised. “But it’s not just because of me. It’s because I’ve got the best coaches in the world.”

  “Drama coaches?” Mrs. Spitz asked.

  “Not exactly,” Lisa said.

  AT EXACTLY NINE FORTY-THREE Carole and Stevie rang the Atwood doorbell. They had commandeered Colonel Hanson into giving them a ride over. He had also supplied a tray of marshmallow crispies for the meeting. All three of them had waited in the car for five minutes, not wanting to disturb Lisa. They had decided to ring one minute early, so that they could catch her right as she started her break.

  Mrs. Atwood opened the door right away. “Good timing, girls. You’ve got thirty seconds to get up to her bedroom. Now, scoot!” Lisa and Carole didn’t have to be told twice. Before Mrs. Atwood could finish asking Colonel Hanson to come in for coffee, they were through the door. They knew the layout of the Atwood house by heart and were up the stairs in an instant. Like a herd of wild horses, they thundered down the hallway to Lisa’s room.

  “Open up! Committee to Save Lisa Atwood’s Life as a Pony Clubber!” Stevie announced, banging on the door.

  Inside the room they heard Lisa counting, “Five, four, three, two, one—open sesame!”

  Carole and Stevie burst inside, both talking a mile a minute. Lisa tried to interrupt to tell them she couldn’t listen to both of them at once, but they refused to allow her to talk. “We only have twelve minutes! No, eleven!” Stevie said.

  By the time they were down to eight, two things had become clear to Lisa. First, the team was currently a disorganized mess because nobody had had time to get her own things together, let alone work on gathering the communal equipment. And second, the dressage team desperately needed help.

  “So if I have this right, what you’re saying is—” Lisa started to say.

  “What we’re saying is, can that computer of yours print out equipment checklists and feeding schedules as well as history papers because we want you to be the stable manager!” Stevie finished.

  Lisa looked at her two friends. Her day had had as many highs and lows as the roller coaster at the amusement park. And it was ending on the highest peak yet.

  “So?” Carole asked.

  “So? So! So I say since you guys got the news out in four minutes, we still have eight to celebrate in! Break out the marshmallow crispies!” Lisa cried.

  “Yippee-hi-yi-yay!” Stevie whooped.

  The Saddle Club made good use of the time allowed. They did an impromptu dance around Lisa’s room—which involved screaming for joy and tossing stuffed animals in the air—flopped down onto her bed, and ate about six crispies apiece.

  “This really is the perfect solution,” Lisa said, chewing on a treat. “I have some time to devote to the rally—I just can’t be responsible for getting Prancer ready. As stable manager I’ll only have to answer to you guys.”

  “More like we’ll have to answer to you,” Stevie pointed out.

  “And even though you’re not riding, you’re still making a huge contribution to the team,” Carole said.

  “Boy, will Max and Mrs. Reg be thrilled. Especially Mrs. Reg. The poor woman walked in on us and Polly and Betsy when we were on the brink of a knockdown, drag-out fight over who was going to buy the new first-aid kit!” Stevie exclaimed.

  “Consider it bought,” Lisa said. She dashed off a note to herself on a memo pad. Carole and Stevie leaned back on their pillows and grinned from ear to ear. They felt relieved already, knowing that Lisa, the most organized and efficient member of The Saddle Club—and probably of Horse Wise, too—had taken over.

  “I can just picture the beautiful checklists and schedules you’ll draw up on your computer,” Stevie said dreamily.

  “And the clipboard you’ll carry around at the rally,” Carole added, sighing.

  Lisa leaned over and reached under her bed. “You mean this one?” she asked. She held up a weathered clipboard with a pen attached.

  “Carole,” Stevie said, “our every problem is solved.”

  When the eight minutes were long since past, Colonel Hanson hollered up the stairs for Stevie and Carole. Lisa had decided that since she no longer had to ride, she could extend her free time by ten or fifteen minutes—or maybe even half an hour. She promised to have the forms printed out by Monday to give to Carole at school.

  “BETTER AND BETTER,” Carole commented appreciatively. She had just watched Stevie run through all of the transitions in her test. As usual she and Topside were in top form. The girls were having their regular Tuesday lesson. Max was down at the other end of the ring working intensively with Polly and Romeo, whose circles looked more like squares.

  “Thanks,” Stevie said, “but I’m not sure if we are better and better. Most of the time I feel like we’re always the same.”

  Carole amended her compliment. “Okay, you’re always the same, and that’s always good. The judges will love him.”

  “Exactly,” Stevie said glumly. “They’ll love him, and he deserves all the praise he gets.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that—you look great, too,” Carole added hastily.

  Stevie apologized. She explained that she didn’t want Carole to think she was fishing for compliments, but she really and truly believed that whatever score they received, Topside would be the reason. “We might get a blue ribbon; we might not. It hardly matters. If we do, it won’t be a big deal anyway. Topside will have earned it, and he’s gotten blue ribbons at international competitions like the American Horse Show—what would it mean to get one at a little Pony Club rally?”

  “It would mean—” Carole paused. What would it mean? She didn’t know, because she’d never had Stevie’s problem. She had never expected to get a blue. And whenever she and Starlight did well, she knew they had both worked hard.

  “It’s hard to answer, isn’t it? The whole point of Pony Club is to learn. But I’m not learning anything. On Topside I’m just sitting back and enjoying the ride,” Stevie said.

  “Are you saying that you want more of a challenge?” Carole asked.

  Stevie nodded, a slow grin creeping across her face. “Want—and have: I’ve decided to ride Prancer at the rally if it’s all right with Max.”

  Carole clapped her hands together in excitement. “That’s a great idea! It’ll be wonderful for you and Prancer. Why didn’t you just say so?”

  Stevie tossed her head airily. “Oh, I wanted to build up the dramatic suspense,” she said.

  “Humph,” Carole muttered. “Maybe you’re the one who ought to be onstage.”

  AFTER CLASS CAROLE and Stevie walked around handing out the forms Lisa had drawn up. They felt very important—first, to have solved the club’s stable-management problem, and second, to be presenting such perfect documents. Betsy and Polly oohed and aahed openly at Lisa’s neat work, just as they had admired the new first-aid kit she had dropped off on her way to school.

  “Wow, she thought of everything,” Polly exclaimed.

  “I know,” Betsy agreed. “Who else would have remembered hair nets? My mother and I are always having a mad search at the last minute.”

  When Veronica got her forms, she just shrugged. “It’s about time Lisa got her act together. Obviously, she wasn’t going to be able to ride that wild horse off the track,” she muttered.

  “Oh, you mean Prancer?” Stevie asked innocently.

  Veronica nodded. “Of course. That horse won’t be ready to go to a show for months, let alone a Pony Club rally.”

  Stevie and Carole said nothing. On their way back past Garnet’s stall, they noticed Veronica poring over the handouts, an impressed look on her face.

  “I hope she looks like that when she hears the news about Prancer,” Carole whispered.

  Max and Mrs. Reg had been as thrilled as The Saddle Club predicted about the new arrangement. An expression of pure relief had passed between them. “I hated to tell you girls, but I was getting
nervous about filling that spot,” Mrs. Reg admitted. “Now I’ve no doubt you’ll have the best inspections at the rally. You couldn’t ask for a better stable manager. Not in the whole region.”

  As for Stevie’s riding Prancer, Max couldn’t have been more pleased. He had actually given Stevie a hug! She was so shocked that she had stood there speechless while Max exclaimed, “Good for you! Good for you, Stevie Lake!” about ten times in a row. Finally he had stepped back, looked her in the eye, and said, “We might make a horsewoman out of you yet.” Stevie figured praise like that ought to keep her walking on air till the year 2025.

  “Maybe more like the year 2050,” Carole commented when Stevie related the news.

  On their way out the two girls stopped by Mrs. Reg’s office to pick up the completed forms that they had instructed everyone to drop off there. Tacked to her bulletin board was a note in Max’s handwriting. Final Dressage-Rally Teams, it said at the top. Horse Wise team: Carole Hanson (Starlight), Betsy Cavanaugh (Barq), Polly Giacomin (Romeo), Stephanie Lake (Prancer), Lisa Atwood (stable manager). Riding on Mixed Team with Sunny Valley PC: Veronica diAngelo (Garnet).

  “But how do you think Max decided?” Carole asked. It went without saying that they could hardly believe their luck: With Lisa stable-managing, there was only one extra Horse Wise rider, and Max had chosen to put Veronica on the mixed team.

  “I think Mrs. Reg had a hand in it,” Stevie answered knowingly. “Remember when she caught us fighting about the stable management? That was pretty bad, but there was one person who didn’t even show up to fight! And not coming is a whole lot worse, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I most certainly would,” a voice behind them said.

  Carole and Stevie whirled around to see Mrs. Reg standing at the door. “So Veronica is not going to be on the Horse Wise team. End of story.”

  “But won’t she—” Carole began. She had been about to say, “Won’t she throw a fit?” but had stopped herself in the interest of club spirit.

 

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