“Where’ve you been? Drinking?” yelled Dexter. “You’re supposed to be working!”
Bird was stunned at the insult.
The man nodded meekly and took Glad’s reins. Glad let out a huge breath and dropped his head. Together the man and the horse walked quietly toward Dexter’s tent stabling.
“Lazy Indian,” muttered Dexter.
Bird watched them go. “How could you call him a lazy Indian?”
“Because he is!” spat Dexter.
Bird stared at him. Dexter Pill had no right to demean the man, but she yearned to know more about him. “Does he work for you?” she asked.
“He started today. He’ll be fired today, too!” Dexter stalked off, leaving Bird and Tall Sox standing by the fence.
The man is an Aboriginal person, Bird thought. Like me. And he has the same gift of speaking to animals. Are all Aboriginal people able to do that?
Wanda stepped out from behind the stands, interrupting Bird’s thoughts. “Bird, Dexter just fired me. Just now! I was looking for a different job anyway, but now I don’t know what to do.” The teenager with the red hair wiped a tear from her face with the back of her hand. She reminded Bird of a little child.
“What happened?” Bird asked.
“Dexter blames me for what Glad did and it’s not fair! I tried to get him in the ring, but he wouldn’t go. He’s mad, too, because I told someone, well, maybe more than one person, that Glad hates water jumps, and it got back to him.” Wanda looked at the ground.
“And that guy?” Bird pointed to the man walking away with Glad.
Wanda looked where Bird pointed. “Dunno. He just showed up. I guess I’ve seen him around. He got my job.”
“My Aunt Hannah might know of a job somewhere,” Bird said helpfully. She looked over to the practice ring. “Go ask her. It’s time for me to get Sunny ready anyway.”
The two girls and Sox walked away from the ring. Sally appeared, out of breath. “Thanks, Bird! Cliff is taking Sabrina home and he says Tall Sox should go, too.”
“Why is the pony leaving now? Julia’s class isn’t finished and she’ll miss the jump-offs.”
Sally looked over her shoulder. “Your mother.”
“My mother? What about her?”
“She called Hannah. She’s very mad and wants Julia home now. Julia’s upset.”
Bird shook her head. How selfish of Eva to upset her daughter like this. “Typical,” she said.
Are you ready to go home, Sox? she asked the horse.
Okay with me.
Bird gave Sally the lead shank and patted the gelding’s neck. This had been a good day for him. He’d seen the show grounds. He’d had a scare but gotten over it. You’re a good horse. Next time we come, you’ll be ready to compete.
It looks like fun!
Bird grinned. She loved his positive energy, even after the bad start with Dexter. Dexter Pill. He was at the centre of a lot of horse problems. After all that Dexter had done, why on earth would the man go to work for him?
BIRD STOOD BESIDE SUNNY in the trailer. She brushed him and got him saddled up, ready for their class. She watched Wanda and Hannah conversing by the mounting block. Saddle Creek didn’t have an opening for a job, but Hannah knew most people in the show horse industry and would be an excellent resource for Wanda.
As Bird watched, Ed Cage walked by. Hannah’s back was turned to him, so she didn’t see the kiss he blew at Wanda. But Bird did. And Wanda blushed to the roots of her hair. What was that all about? Bird wondered. As far as she knew, Ed was married. She couldn’t think about it now. She had a class to win.
Are you ready to go, Sunny? asked Bird.
I’ve been ready all day. Now I’m bored.
Do you want to jump or not?
Maybe. Maybe not. Sundancer yawned. You’ve been spending a lot of time with Sox today.
Bird considered this. Yeah, but Sox needs help right now. Soon, Sally will be able to handle him.
Sunny looked at her sideways. And then?
And then I can spend more time with you.
Okay. Then I want to jump.
Thanks, Sunny. Bird patted his nose gently. You’ll always be my favourite horse.
Soon Bird was mounted, and she and Sundancer walked toward the warm-up ring. The air was clear, and the sky was blue. Bird breathed it all in. She was excited about her turn in the big grass ring.
Hannah showed up as they began to trot. “Get him warmed up, Bird,” she shouted. “I’ll wait for a jump and then I’ll send you over a few. You’re up in seven.”
“Okay,” called Bird. She kept Sunny in a nice trot for three minutes in each direction. She let him walk and stretch, then began a canter. By then, Hannah had secured one of the five jumps set up in the centre of the ring. Everyone took turns schooling over them, and Hannah had to wait until people finished before taking one over.
Sunny played a little with a happy buck, and Bird laughed out loud. She loved when he did that — it meant he was feeling good. They trotted toward the vertical. Sunny rocked back and used his haunches to lift them over the jump. He arched perfectly, then landed lightly and cantered away.
“Wonderful!” praised Hannah. “A couple more and you’re good to go!”
I’m feeling good, Bird! enthused Sunny. Let’s go win!
All right, Sunny, but not too fast.
You’re no fun at all. He did another little happy buck.
Bird smiled and patted her horse’s shoulder. You are feeling good!
Bird felt ready and confident as they made their way to the enormous grass Grand Prix ring. As they walked, Bird took in all the sights of the show. There was a vast assortment of horses and ponies, all shone up and groomed to perfection. People of all ages rode them around rings, trotted them down the lanes, and lunged them in out-of-the-way corners. Scooters, golf carts, and bicycles moved people from stable to ring and carried saddles, cooler blankets, and accessories to where they were needed. Rows of tents that served as temporary stables were becoming adorned with brightly coloured rosettes, won in classes. Everywhere, people and horses were intent on going somewhere, doing something, working on skills, or merely resting before their next class. The entire showground was abuzz with energy. Bird felt alive just being there.
The classes and courses were posted on a big sign beside the Grand Prix ring. Bird found her course and studied it carefully. She looked at the jumps and went over the order in her head, pointing at them one at a time to entrench the course in her memory. There were some very tricky turns and some rather huge jumps. She breathed deeply and patted Sunny’s neck.
Do you still want to do this? she asked.
Do barn cats kill mice?
Bird grinned. We’re up in five.
Just beside them was a small dirt warm-up ring. They walked in and picked up a trot. It was busy, with close to a dozen horses jumping and cantering.
As they cantered around a corner, a big white cowboy hat caught Bird’s eye. She took a second look. It was the man. He sat on the grass on the hill beside the ring, watching her. Why? she wondered. She cantered around again, and glanced to see if he was still there. He was.
It was worth a try. Why are you watching me?
To her amazement, she got a reply. To warn you about something.
Bird pulled Sunny to a halt. Warn me of what?
Keep working. Don’t look at me.
Bird asked Sunny to trot on.
You have an enemy. Dexter Pill.
I know that.
Listen to me. He means you harm. You made him look bad just now with Glad. He will try to ruin your ride.
Should I scratch the class?
I leave it with you. Be very careful.
How can I be careful? I have to concentrate on what I’m doing. I can’t be looking around for danger.
I’ll help if I can.
Thank you. Who are you? What’s your name? Bird looked up at the hillside, hoping for an answer, but the man in the white cowboy ha
t was gone.
AS ALWAYS HAPPENED, THE crowd hushed when Sundancer trotted into the ring. His coppery coat glistened in the sun, and his muscled shoulders and rump moved with athletic rhythm and grace. His ears were pricked forward, and his energy was apparent with every springy stride.
He tossed his mane. Let’s do this, Bird.
Are you worried about what the man said?
Why should I be? What could happen?
I’m with you every step of the way.
Bird pushed the man’s warning from her thoughts. She asked Sunny for a canter.
They were through the starting gate. Sunny moved with energy and impulsion, using his entire body well. The first fence was a solid flower box with three rails above. Sundancer and Bird came in to the centre and took off from the base, clearing it easily.
This is the life, Bird!
We’re rocking this course!
Now, they turned slightly right and headed to a mess of coloured rails, called an optical illusion because it was difficult to find the right angle to approach it correctly. Sunny cantered to it and sprang. Up and over. A tight turn to the left and they sped to the in-and-out, constructed of two fences with red and white rails and bright blue wings.
They were over the first of the two fences, and had taken one stride. There was one more stride to go, and then they’d take off over the second.
They didn’t make it. Between the two fences, Sunny let out a frantic whinny and reared. He twisted in the air, uncertain where to go or what to do.
I’m hurt!
Easy boy! You’re okay.
I’m going home!
No, Sunny! Whoa!
But Sunny couldn’t listen. He was terrified and unable to think. Bird held on for dear life as they raced to the in-gate. Several people stood there, hoping to stop him, but Sunny was panicked. He didn’t slow his pace.
“Move!” screamed Bird. “Coming through!”
They galloped past staring people and spooked horses, sending carts and scooters flying as they sped through the gate, down the dirt lane, and up the grassy hill to the Saddle Creek trailer.
Once there, Sunny stopped. Bird slid down and patted his neck.
Are you okay?
Something hurt me! Look at my rump. Am I bleeding? Am I going to die?
Bird stepped behind the worried animal and examined his rear end. Which side?
The bloody side!
There’s no blood, Sunny.
There has to be blood. I’m a mammal!
Bird felt his coat carefully, but just like with Tall Sox, she found nothing at first.
I can’t find anything.
It hurt! And it scared me! Something got me!
Bird continued to work her fingers through his silky coat. A small, hot bump was rising.
Here?
Ouch! That’s it.
This was exactly what had happened to Tall Sox! Bird knew it was not a coincidence. Somebody was trying to do them harm. She considered what to do. Should she involve Hannah and report this to the Stewards?
The man, still wearing the white cowboy hat, came up silently and stood with them. He wore riding gloves, and held out a small black BB gun. “Look what was stashed beneath the bleachers.”
Bird stared at it. “Wow.”
“I couldn’t get to him before he fired.”
Bird’s jaw dropped. “Get to who?”
“I’m not sure.”
“But you’re saying somebody actually shot Sunny with that?”
The man nodded. “I have no proof, but this gun tells a story.”
She made a guess. “Dexter Pill?”
“Don’t know for sure. I came around the stands to stay close to him, but I was too late. Sunny had already reared and run away. When I searched around, I found the gun.” He looked at her earnestly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him.”
“Someone shot Tall Sox, too, when Sally was grazing him. And now this.”
The man frowned. “That’s not all he’s been up to. He needs to be stopped, and you can help.”
“How?” asked Bird. “And exactly what are you talking about? What else has he been up to?”
“Let’s take one step at a time.”
Bird realized that the man was not going to elaborate. “Did anybody see him shoot at Sunny?”
“I don’t know yet. His fingerprints might be on the gun, though.”
Bird’s eyes widened. “You mean we should call the police?”
The man smiled. “I am the police.”
9
FRANK SKELTON
Out of the Indian approach to life there came a great freedom,
an intense and absorbing respect for life,
enriching faith in a supreme power, and principles of truth,
honesty, generosity and brotherhood.
— Luther Standing Bear, Oglala Sioux, 1868–1937
Bird was still trying to comprehend what the man had told her when Hannah came running to the trailer.
“Bird! What happened? Why did Sunny go wild?”
“Somebody shot him with a BB gun.”
“No!” Hannah gasped. “How could that happen?”
The man took off his white hat and slowly turned to face Hannah. “Hello.”
Hannah stopped in her tracks. “Hello.”
As they stood staring at each other, Bird looked back and forth between them, trying to figure out what was going on. “Do you two know each other?” she asked.
“No,” answered the man, still looking at Hannah, “but I’ve heard of your aunt. She’s well respected among horse trainers.”
“And you look very familiar,” Hannah said slowly. “Have we met?”
The man paused, and spoke carefully. “It’s not impossible.”
Hannah’s smile was just a little unnatural. “You certainly remind me of someone I used to know.”
Something was wrong. Their conversation sounded like a play, with lines rehearsed. Bird couldn’t remain quiet any longer. “Who are you?” she demanded of the man. “What’s happening here?”
All at once it hit her. Hannah was acting more than a little strange. It was completely obvious! The man was from a First Nations community. He could speak non-verbally. He was brilliant with horses. He even looked a bit like her — his nose, his forehead, and the setting of his eyes. How could she have missed it? “You’re my father,” she blurted out.
The man stared blankly at Bird, clearly startled. “Pardon me?”
This wasn’t the reaction she’d expected. Not at all. “Aren’t you?” she asked, much less sure of herself now.
“Bird!” Hannah stepped quickly toward her. “Honey! Don’t you remember? I told you, your father is … he died, Bird.”
Bird shook her head. She knew what Hannah had told her, she just didn’t want to accept it. “But he’s just like me! Can’t you see?” Hannah gently placed her hand on Bird’s shoulder. Bird shrugged it off and searched the man’s face for confirmation. “Are you my father?”
He tilted his head. “Do you ask every Indian that question?”
Bird’s face reddened, but she felt a need to carry on, to explain herself. “But your belt! It has the initials F.S.! Those are my father’s initials — Fred Sweetree!”
“They’re my initials, too.” His voice was cold. He turned away, and put on his hat. “We’re not all the same.”
Bird froze with confusion. She looked at Hannah’s stricken face, then at the man. The truth sank in. She’d been wrong. This man wasn’t her father. How could he be? Her father was dead. And now, this man, who she’d just met, thought she was totally crazy. And she’d insulted him.
Bird cringed, wishing that the earth would open up and swallow her. What had she done? Who goes around asking people if they’re their father?! Humiliated, she dropped Sunny’s reins and ran. She didn’t know what else to do.
What an idiot! She had to be more careful what she said aloud. When she was mute, she’d never had a problem like this. Spe
aking was too easy! Things crept out so fast and then you couldn’t take them back. How many times would she have to learn that lesson? Maybe Eva was right. It had been better when she couldn’t speak!
She ran across the field toward the tree line, passing horse trailers and trucks. There were fewer and fewer until she was running alone. Or so she thought until she heard hooves pounding.
You run fast for a girl.
Sunny!
What’s your problem?
I just embarrassed myself completely. Bird slowed to a walk, but continued in the direction of the trees.
How?
I asked a complete stranger, a person who’s actually been trying to avoid me, if he’s my father!
That’s more embarrassing than taking off like a rabbit?
Bird stopped walking. She felt even worse. You’re right.
I’m always right.
Now what do I do, if you’re so smart?
Depends.
On what?
If you want to go live in the woods. Like the wild man.
Bird flashed back to an image of Tanbark’s tent down the escarpment in the woods, made from old horse blankets and strewn with garbage. I don’t.
So, hop on my back and we’ll go for a ride. You’ll look like all the other people here, not like some crazy rabbit.
Bird snorted with laughter in spite of herself. She adjusted the girth and found a tree stump to stand on. Sunny stood beside it as Bird put her foot in the left stirrup and threw her right leg over the saddle.
She had absolutely no desire to go back to the trailer. They headed down the hill in the direction of the Grand Prix ring. Her class was still going on, so they might as well see Dexter ride.
Her plan was to completely bypass the Saddle Creek rig. From the far side of the field she peeked over to see if the man was still there. Sure enough, he and her aunt were sitting on folding chairs in the shade of the trailer, deep in conversation.
What were they talking about? She rode Sunny a little closer, and stopped in the shadow of a spreading maple tree. Who was this man, anyway? He had said he was the police, and that she could help him with something. He spoke to animals, and he was from a First Nation. Plainly, he wasn’t her father, but who was he? And what was he doing here? He was undercover, but what was he trying to uncover?
Dark Days at Saddle Creek Page 10
