Nightmare

by Bonnie Bryant

  “Very childish,” said Lisa in a superior voice.

  “Definitely,” Carole agreed with a sniff. Both girls grinned at Stevie.

  “You can both be rotten eggs,” Stevie suggested. “But if you guys are both rotten eggs and I’m not, I won’t have any fun. So let’s all be rotten eggs.”

  The three girls touched the horseshoe together and then rode into the ring.

  It was fun to be able to joke about things like rotten eggs with her friends, but Stevie knew, and she knew that both Lisa and Carole knew, that what was really on their minds that afternoon wasn’t rotten eggs. It was swamp fever.

  They’d all sensed a tension at Pine Hollow the minute they’d arrived. The place was not the usual beehive of activity. There were no vans pulling in, no horses being loaded or unloaded. There was a notice on the door of the stable explaining the reason for and terms of the quarantine.

  Everyone looked at the horses with an awful curiosity. Were they okay now? Would they stay that way? The facts of EIA were known to everyone. It was a dreadful, deadly disease. It could sweep through a stable and destroy every horse in the place. Could that happen at their beloved Pine Hollow?

  Stevie leaned forward and patted Belle’s neck while they walked around the ring to warm up before class started. She often did that as a means of thanking Belle for something she’d done. Today it was more a matter of thanking her for just being. Belle was the most perfect horse Stevie could ever imagine herself riding. She could barely consider what it might be like if something—and she couldn’t even say the name of the disease to herself—happened to her beloved Belle.

  “Class, come to order,” Max said. The students all lined up in the middle of the ring and faced him. They waited for his instructions.

  “Today we’re going to work on balance exercises.” He explained how each rider would try to be in balance not just on her horse, but with her horse. “If you visualize yourself as a part of the horse, not just a body plopped onto the back of the horse, it will be easier to find your balance with the horse,” he said.

  “That’s just what I’ve always wanted to be, anyway!” Carole said. The other riders smiled. Some even laughed.

  Normally Max would frown or even get annoyed when riders called out in class. Today he just smiled at Carole’s joke. That was when Carole realized that Max was as edgy as the riders. That was a little comforting, confirming Carole’s feeling that they were all in this together—not just three rotten eggs, but a whole classful, plus the teacher.

  “Okay, now start walking around the ring, and when I call out gaits, change not only the gait, but your sense of balance with the horse. That means that your horse isn’t the only one that’s walking, trotting, or cantering. You have to be doing it, too. You’re not being pulled along or carried by the horse. You are riding it.”

  Walk, walk, walk, Lisa said to herself, trying to sense that her own body was moving in union with Prancer’s. Most of the time, this wasn’t a difficult exercise for her. She naturally felt, and responded to, the horse’s movements. Her balance was always good. Max had often said that she was naturally graceful in the saddle. Lisa thought that was partly from years of classes in ballet, in which balance was also critically important.

  “Lisa, you’ve got to sit up straighter,” Max said. “Meg, your hands are wiggling. Hold them still. Stevie, what are your heels doing up? Put them down. Betsy, look where you want the horse to go, not at your friends—not even at me. Carole, there should be a single straight line from your elbows, through your wrists and hands, along the reins to Starlight’s mouth—not the zigzag thing I’m seeing now.”

  Carole looked down at her arms. She couldn’t believe what she’d been doing, any more than she could believe that Lisa wasn’t sitting straight and that Stevie’s heels were up. These were beginners’ mistakes! What was the matter with them? Meg knew better than to wiggle her hands. And everybody knew you should be looking in the direction you wanted the horse to go.

  “All right, now, starting with Polly, I want you to cut across the ring and change directions to circle clockwise.”

  Polly Giacomin looked at him, confused. “Max, we’re already going clockwise.”

  “Well, then, counterclockwise,” he said, a little flustered.

  Now even Max was making beginners’ mistakes! Then Carole understood. Everybody, including her and including Max, was nervous. They were all doing things they never did normally.

  Then Mrs. Reg did something she never did normally. She came into the ring and interrupted the class. When she went to speak to Max, all the riders stopped, watched, and waited.

  Max noticed the audience. “Why don’t you tell them?” he said to his mother.

  “We’ve just had a call from Judy Barker,” Mrs. Reg said. “She’s gotten the results of the Coggins test for the first half of the horses. They are all negative.”

  “Delilah?” Carole asked.

  “Not yet,” said Mrs. Reg. “Her blood sample was in the second set. We’ll probably hear about that tomorrow. But so far, so good!”

  “Yahoo!” Stevie cried out joyfully. She was joined by all the other students. Max smiled at the spontaneous celebration, but he had a note of caution for the students.

  “It’s good news, but it’s not great news,” he reminded them soberly. “The only way any of the horses here would be infected and have a positive test at this point would be if there were a widespread epidemic going on, and nobody ever suspected that. Remember, Delilah had only been back for a day, so if she’s infected and has infected any of the other horses in the stable, the earliest that could possibly show up in a blood test is about ten days from now. We didn’t expect any of our other horses to test positive at this time. The real test will be at the end of the quarantine period—in forty-three days. Now, cross your stirrups over your saddles and take up a sitting trot, counterclockwise. Polly, you begin.”

  After class, the three girls cross-tied their horses in the aisle of the stable so that they could groom and talk at the same time. It seemed like the best they could do for a Saddle Club meeting that day, since Lisa had an appointment to get to and Stevie needed to hurry home for something. She wasn’t saying what, but based on the circles under her eyes, Carole hoped it was for some sleep.

  “You know, I’ve always known that we were three of the luckiest girls in the world,” Carole said. “I mean, we’ve got each other and we’ve got horses. What more could anyone want?”

  “To have the horses stay healthy,” said Stevie.

  “Forever,” added Lisa.

  “Exactly what I had in mind,” Carole agreed. “And to think that the whole thing could be wrecked by one little deerfly and one tiny virus.”

  “I don’t want to think about it,” Stevie declared. “For now, everything is fine, and what we don’t know about the future can’t hurt us.”

  “I sort of agree,” Lisa said. “I mean, we all know the realities here. It’s possible that some horses have been infected, but there’s no point in looking for trouble. So far, so good. I’m happy to leave it that way.”

  “Me too,” said Stevie.

  “I guess,” Carole said. But was that realistic? Weren’t there things they could be doing? She had a nagging feeling but decided not to share it with her friends yet.

  Lisa glanced at her watch and then finished up her grooming very quickly. “I’ve got to go,” she said.

  “I’ll put Prancer back in her stall,” Carole offered. Lisa accepted and ran off. When Stevie looked at her watch, too, Carole knew she was in a hurry as well. “And Belle,” she said.

  “Thanks,” said Stevie, and then she was gone.

  Carole finished grooming Starlight, gave him a big hug and two carrots, and then put all three horses back in their stalls. She gave Belle and Prancer carrots, too.

  It was only five-thirty. She didn’t have to rush back to the Atwoods’, and she had some unfinished business. She wanted to visit Delilah and see how she was get
ting along in her lonely splendor.

  Carole said it that way to herself, but even as she was walking over to the feed shed, she knew that wasn’t what she’d meant. She wanted to spend some time with Delilah to see if she was showing any symptoms. Would she be hungry today? Would her ears perk up when Carole walked in? Was she in any pain? In short, was she showing any symptoms of illness? Carole practically held her breath as she opened the door.

  Delilah stood at the back of her temporary stall. She looked warily at the door as it opened—almost a glare rather than a look. Carole was sure something was wrong. She walked slowly to the mare and held out her hand to pat her. Naturally friendly and welcoming, Delilah would normally walk up to greet a visitor. Today she remained aloof.

  Carole slipped into the stall, latching the door behind her. She moved slowly, wary of upsetting the uneasy horse. She looked around. Horses often had symptoms of illness around them as well as in them. Carole saw several of them. First of all, Delilah hadn’t finished the grain she’d been given at breakfast. Loss of appetite was common in many equine illnesses. Her water bucket was also full, but Carole had no way of knowing when it had last been filled. There seemed to be less manure in the stall than she would have expected at this time of day, confirming that Delilah hadn’t been eating very much. Delilah was definitely not feeling very good. Her eyes seemed a little dull, and she was nervous.

  Carole reached for her halter and held it securely. Delilah didn’t pull away, but she didn’t come to Carole. When Carole reached her, she patted the mare. Delilah liked that. For the first time since Carole had entered the shed, she felt that Delilah was, in fact, glad to have her there. Carole couldn’t help herself. She hugged Delilah. The mare liked that, too. She nickered softly over Carole’s shoulder.

  Carole stepped back and regarded the mare carefully. It wasn’t clear that Delilah was really sick. It was just clear to Carole that she wasn’t really well. Should she call Judy, as she had with Nero the other day?

  What if Judy told her that Delilah was sick—really sick? What if she had gotten EIA from King Perry? Carole didn’t want to hear that from Judy or anybody. She wouldn’t call Judy, now or ever!

  Carole handed Delilah a piece of carrot. Delilah took it and chewed slowly. That seemed like pretty good news. While Delilah chomped on the carrot, Carole returned to the stall door, climbed up the boards, and perched on top of it. She could watch Delilah from there, and she could think.

  Carole remembered when Delilah had carried her first foal, Samson, son of Cobalt—when Carole and her friends had helped bring him into the world, when he’d taken his first steps, when Delilah had licked him clean, lovingly, and then had given him his first meal. And now this new foal … Was there one? Was it possible that Delilah was simply suffering from some kind of morning sickness? Maybe, Carole thought. Maybe. Then she decided to stop thinking. She had to do something instead.

  She hopped down off the stall door and rummaged around in the feed area until she found a jar of molasses. Horses were famous for liking sweet things, and Carole was pretty sure that if she sweetened up the remaining grain in Delilah’s feed box, she’d finish up her breakfast. A mare carrying a foal had to eat well because she was eating for two. Carole poured several tablespoons of the thick, sticky liquid into Delilah’s leftovers, stirred it with a spoon, and then put some of the concoction on her fingers and took it over to Delilah.

  The horse sniffed curiously. She couldn’t resist it. Her soft, warm lips opened up and gathered the treat into her mouth. That made Carole feel good.

  She left the stall then, latching the door carefully behind her, and washed her hands.

  “Bye-bye, girl,” Carole said. “I’ll stop in again tomorrow.”

  As she closed the feed shed door behind her, Carole heard Delilah whicker at her softly. That made her smile. She felt better now than when she’d first gone in.

  She’d done everything she could for the mare, hadn’t she?

  “TWO-THIRDS OF a Saddle Club meeting in my room in five minutes!” Lisa declared. Dinner was over, and the girls had gone upstairs to get ready for the night and then do their homework. Now it sounded as if Lisa wanted to have a little fun, too, rather than just sticking her nose in her books all night long. That would be a welcome change for Carole.

  This evening had been a big improvement over last night for Carole at the Atwoods’. For one thing, she had been on time tonight. She’d helped make the dinner and she’d helped clean up. She’d even been able to eat some of it. She definitely felt better about being a houseguest tonight than she had the night before. She just wished that everything else was moving ahead in such a satisfactory manner.

  Four minutes later she had slipped into her pajamas and was knocking on Lisa’s door.

  “C’mon in!” Lisa said cheerfully. While Carole was feeling somewhat better, clearly Lisa was feeling a lot better, and that was a relief—for both of them.

  Carole sat cross-legged on Lisa’s bed and took the cookie Lisa offered her.

  “So, did you reach Sergeant Fowler this afternoon?” Lisa asked.

  Carole nodded and then swallowed her first bite of cookie. “I called her from Pine Hollow because I wanted to make sure I caught her before she left. She said Dad probably wouldn’t call again for a couple of days, but he really was fine and cheerful. Even she didn’t know where he was, but he didn’t seem concerned about anything at all, except, of course, for not being able to reach me.”

  “Well, that’s great,” Lisa said. “So now you know he’s really all right.”

  “I guess so,” said Carole. “But it did cross my mind that if something were wrong, if he weren’t all right or if he were afraid that something might go wrong, he probably wouldn’t tell Sergeant Fowler and she definitely wouldn’t tell me.”

  “Oh, right,” said Lisa. “Still, you know she talked with him and he didn’t sound worried or anything, right?”

  “I guess,” said Carole. Then, wanting to change the subject, she asked Lisa where she’d hurried off to that afternoon.

  “My therapist,” said Lisa. “I still go, you know.”

  “Right,” said Carole, a little sorry she’d asked the question. It wasn’t that Lisa was secretive about the fact that she was getting therapy, it was that Carole and Stevie never asked her about it because they figured if there was anything she wanted them to know, she’d tell. Now Carole had blundered right into it and asked the question she hadn’t meant to ask. Lisa didn’t seem to mind, however. In fact, she seemed more than a little eager to share some of what had gone on.

  “I told her all about Fiona, about the paper, and about how you guys were helping me with it.”

  “Was that okay?” Carole asked.

  “Of course,” said Lisa. “And, speaking of that, I don’t think I did a very good job of thanking you and Stevie for giving me that information from her computer.”

  “It was helpful stuff?”

  “Definitely,” Lisa said. “But I don’t really think I need it quite yet.”

  “We just wanted to save you some time,” Carole said, shrugging off their efforts.

  “No, I don’t mean it that way,” said Lisa. “I mean that the more I talked about this with Susan, the more I could see her eyes opening wide. She doesn’t normally get upset about stuff I tell her, but this time she made an exception. She was almost angry with me. When I stop to think about it, I don’t know why you and Stevie weren’t angry with me, too.”

  “No, we weren’t angry,” Carole told her. “Just worried. That’s why we wanted to help you.”

  “Well, Susan wanted to help me, too. She said there really isn’t any difference, as far as a computer is concerned, between an A and an A-plus. If I do the best I can and become valedictorian, fine. If Fiona does, well, she can have it. And if we both do best, then we can be co-valedictorians.”

  “I see her point,” Carole said.

  Lisa picked up another cookie and took a bite before going on. />
  “Well, I could see her point, too, but of course it doesn’t make any sense at all if you look at it carefully. Being a co-valedictorian is useless. There is something known as ‘best,’ and two people can’t be ‘best.’ ‘Best’ is what I’ve always expected to be. You know that. So I don’t really have a choice.”

  Carole was getting a bad feeling about this. What was Lisa leading up to?

  “If I can’t be best, at least I have to know why, and the only way I can know why is if I’m in control. I’ve made the decision now. I’ve decided to let Fiona go ahead and be the valedictorian. I am going to get a C in history.”

  “What?” Carole asked. This was more confused than she could have imagined.

  “A C,” Lisa repeated. “You’ve heard of them, haven’t you? It’s the grade average students get. I think it’s time for me to show that I’m not obsessing about my grade point average, but I’m still in control. I’ll be very proud of my C.”

  Carole nearly choked on her final bite of chocolate chip cookie. The idea of Lisa’s getting an intentional C in a course was totally bizarre. She’d nearly gone out of her mind when she’d gotten an unintentional B+ in math last year! It had been as if it was the end of her academic career. Good-bye to Harvard! Farewell Rhodes scholarship!

  Carole couldn’t say what was on her mind. In the first place, if she tried to talk, she was going to spurt chocolate chip cookie all over the place, because there was no way she could swallow while she was thinking about Lisa getting a C. In the second place, if she hadn’t been angry with Lisa before, she certainly was now, and she strongly suspected that it would be bad for their friendship if she told Lisa what she actually thought of this new plan.

  “Interesting,” Carole said when she could finally talk.

  “Yes, I think so. And speaking of interesting, what is going on with Stevie?” Lisa asked.

  “Beats me,” said Carole. “But she looked awful today—like she’d gotten about three hours of sleep.”

  “Do you think something’s worrying her?” Lisa asked.