by Jessie Haas
“Here,” Joni said. “Like this.” She took another carrot and stood it on its fat end in the palm of her hand, holding it steady with her fingers. She put it under Archie’s quivering silver lips. It disappeared inside his head as Joni pushed it upward.
Chess laughed. “Like a food processor!”
The laugh did it—a deep, rich, adult-sounding chuckle, a little like Archie’s nicker, a laugh that said Chess totally got how great it was to feed a carrot to a horse. She grabbed a third carrot from the table and fed it to Archie the food processor way. Joni laughed and reached for the fourth, then paused.
“No, that’s a lot. He could get—”
Archie snatched the carrot. “Okay!” Joni said. “I guess four won’t hurt him—no, Archie, they’re gone. Eat grass!”
“Hurt him?” Chess asked. She looked worried.
“He’ll be fine,” Joni said. You had to be careful about overfeeding horses, but four carrots wasn’t that much, and anyway, it was too late.
Chess seemed to have forgotten the lemonade. Holding the reins, Joni sat on one of the chairs and poured herself a glass. It was the homemade, sour, puckery kind.
“Oh,” Chess said. “Sorry.” She and Joni looked at each other, and they both laughed again.
“Where do you live?” Chess asked. “I didn’t see a house from the bus stop.”
Joni explained, drawing a map on the table with lemonade so Chess understood how the farm road, the big field, and the trail beside the brook connected with North Valley Road. “It’s a lot closer that way than it is by the main road.”
“But you ride through the woods?”
Joni nodded. She was about to say that the woods were easy, it was nothing, nobody could possibly get lost on that trail, but Chess looked impressed, so she decided not to.
“You’re from California? Why did you guys move here?” She’d wondered about that with Danae and Alyssa.
“My dad got a job here.” Chess folded her lips, like there was more she wasn’t saying.
“Didn’t your parents care that you’d have to leave your school?”
“School was almost over, anyway. My grandmother moved back to her own apartment, and Mom didn’t want to take care of us all by herself, so we came with Dad instead of waiting. I have a little brother,” she explained. “He was born too early, so he gets sick a lot. And you live on a farm, right? ’Cause there’s a farm sign at your bus stop.”
Joni explained that Dad raised sheep, and milked them, and made sheep’s milk cheese that won awards. “He’s won, like, the Academy Award of cheese,” she said, hoping for another of those laughs. Chess did laugh, but it wasn’t an Archie-eating-carrots-level laugh, just a quick chuckle, and then a question.
“Do the sheep like being milked?”
Joni thought of the mad stampede down the milking platform. Each sheep shoved her nose into her grain bucket. Then Dad pulled a lever that closed two bars of metal around each neck. The sheep were too busy gobbling to notice or care that they were confined, and they hardly paid attention while they were milked. They might kick at the milking machine the first few times, but they got over that.
“They don’t mind,” she said.
“I’m a vegan,” Chess said. “So I guess I won’t be tasting your dad’s cheese.”
“A vegan’s like a vegetarian, right?”
Chess said, “I don’t eat anything that comes from an animal.”
“Oh,” Joni said. “We grow veggies, too.” It sounded lame.
“So listen,” Chess said. “That old lady down the road, with the ponies?”
“Actually, they’re miniature horses,” Joni said.
“Whatever!” Chess’s eyes glittered—with tears, Joni realized. Her eyes were actually full of tears! “They need to be rescued!”
Joni felt her mouth hang open. Rescue? The minis were round and fat, but not too fat. They had a shady paddock and a barn, and an owner who loved them. Or at least, an owner who knew exactly how to manage them. Joni’s 4-H group volunteered at Kalysta’s Kritters, the local horse shelter, every other Sunday. She’d met lots of horses who’d been rescued, and they were so not Mrs. Abernathy’s minis!
“She keeps them in that tiny little pen!” Chess said. “They’re surrounded by gorgeous green grass, but she hardly ever lets them out. And when she does let them out, she makes them wear muzzles! How can they even eat?”
“Those are probably—”
“And she makes them drag her around all the time, and she’s huge!”
“Yeah, but—”
“But what bothers me the most,” Chess said, “is they never have a second when they aren’t wearing a restraint!”
“You mean, a halter?” A restraint was something that controlled a horse, like Archie’s hackamore, with its strong noseband and metal cheek pieces. But a halter was only a restraint when someone was holding it, or the horse was tied. Otherwise, it was like clothes, like a hat. “That’s not—”
“When you see something like that, you have to do something,” Chess said. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed. “They’re being abused, and we have to rescue them!”
We? How did it get to be we so fast? “It’s bad for horses to eat too much,” Joni said. “They get sick. At Kalysta’s, there’s this horse—”
“Excuse me, grass?” Chess said. “Grass is natural! They evolved to eat grass!”
Joni stared helplessly. Yes, horses evolved to eat grass, but wild grass, Ice Age grass, not lush Vermont hayfields. So say that! Why couldn’t she be a better talker? Chess didn’t know a thing about horses, but how could Joni make her understand when she couldn’t even finish a sentence?
“Do you have any pets?” she asked, because a change of subject would be great right now.
Chess shook her head. “We don’t believe in keeping captive animals.”
We aren’t going to be friends, Joni thought. How many captive animals did her family have? Three hundred sheep and lambs, four dogs, a cat and kittens, Archie …
“I should get going.” She stood up and tried to tighten the cinch. Archie swelled up against it, and Joni walked him around until he let his breath out.
“’Bye.” She put her foot in the stirrup and grabbed the saddle horn to pull herself up. Instantly, the saddle slipped, and dumped her flat on her back.
“Are you okay?” Chess was bending over her.
“No, I’m stupid!” Joni felt much better all of a sudden. Everything looked different from here. The trees were upside down. Archie’s belly was big and round, and the saddle was on his side, not his back. Chess looked different, too, a little worried, a little confused. There was no point in being shy anymore. Joni had nothing left to lose.
“He fills his belly up with air so I can’t tighten the cinch,” she said. “I walked him around so he’d have to breathe, but then I forgot to do up the cinch.”
“I guess he doesn’t like it tight,” Chess said.
“Tough! I don’t like falling off!” Joni got up. Archie stood, looking smug. He didn’t bother to bloat again. He’d made his point. Joni yarned the cinch up tight. “Can I stand on your chair to mount?” It was the gray metal cafeteria kind, nice and sturdy.
“Sure,” Chess said. Joni mounted and turned Archie toward the bridge.
“See you tomorrow morning,” Chess called. “On the bus.”
On the bus. Would Chess expect Joni to sit with her? What about when Danae and Alyssa got on? Always, Joni saved them seat number eleven. There were only two more days to do that, ever. Next year, they’d be the youngest kids riding on the high school bus …
Archie was trotting. Not good. On the way home, that tended to turn into a stampede. “Just walk,” Joni said, putting pressure on the reins. Archie obeyed, but it was a quick walk that kept bubbling over into a trot the second she stopped paying attention.
Was he a captive? Did he hate his life? Joni looked at his perky white ears. No, that was ridiculous. Sure, he’d be happier if
he got unlimited grass—and he’d eat himself sick, so that was never going to happen! And, yes, he’d probably like another horse to live with. And maybe he’d rather win every tussle with Joni—or maybe he’d get bored, like Joni would if he suddenly stopped trying to get his own way.
They came out into the field. From here, the farm looked like a toy, set down in the middle of the surrounding woods. The tiny barn was brilliant red. Dark green maple trees lined the edges of the pastures. The hillside was dotted with cottony white sheep …
No, with captive animals.
“Oh, I don’t care!” Joni said. “Trot!”
FOUR
“Get Off and Walk!”
Luckily, Dad was busy milking, because it was a bit of a mad stampede back to the barn. Joni took care of Archie, then raced up to the hayloft for a hasty look at the kittens she was civilizing. All there. All sleeping. Instead of cuddling them, she rushed indoors to call Danae. Alyssa would be there, too. She stayed at Danae’s house after school, till her mother got home.
“So, the new girl,” Joni said. “I talked with her. She lives in the white house on North Valley Road.”
“And she talked to you?” Danae asked.
“Yes. She’s … nice.” That wasn’t the right word. Chess was interesting. And alarming. “Anyway, we talked,” Joni said.
“Cool!” Alyssa said. “Ask her to sit with us tomorrow.”
So when Joni got on the bus the next morning, and Chess looked up from her seat behind the driver, Joni said, “Come on,” and led the way back to seat eleven. Seat ten was empty, too. All the seats were empty. Joni had always been the last kid on the bus at night, and the first kid on in the morning, before Chess.
“How’s Archie?” Chess asked.
“He’s okay,” Joni said. She’d seen him from a distance, grazing in his small, eaten-down pasture. He had the brook to drink from, so he could take care of himself till she got home. “That’s one of Dad’s fields,” Joni said, pointing out the window. “And he hays the one on the other side of the road, too, but that doesn’t belong to us.”
“What do you mean, ‘hays’?” Chess asked. “Like, hey?” She waved her hand in a cool, possibly California way.
“No, he makes hay.” Did Chess even know what hay was? “It’s dried grass,” she said. “It’s what the animals eat in the winter.” But here they were talking about animals again. Joni had hoped to avoid that.
“Do you ride Archie up here?” Chess asked.
“I’m not allowed to take him on the main road,” Joni said. “Too many cars. But I ride through the fields to Danae’s house, if Dad doesn’t have the sheep fence in the way.” Chess didn’t understand that, either. Joni explained about the electric fences that Dad moved from field to field to give the sheep fresh grass. Sometimes she could find a way around them. Sometimes she had to give up and go home. It was up to her to get there because Danae’s pony, Pumpkin, was afraid of the Bears. Mom or Dad would drive her up there if she asked, but Joni liked having her own independent way back home, especially in the summer. Danae and Alyssa spent every day together then, and things were different.
What if she had a friend next door? What would that be like?
The bus stopped. Danae and Alyssa got on, taking seat ten, and Joni introduced them, because nobody had talked to anybody yesterday.
“So, why did you come to school for just the last three days?” Danae asked.
Chess made a face. “I didn’t want to stay home and take care of my little brother!”
“And you’re from California?” Alyssa said. “I went there once.”
“California’s huge,” Danae said. “That’s like saying, ‘I’ve been to earth’!” Chess laughed, and Joni relaxed. This was easy.
They talked about huge California, and about Vermont, which was so small and green. “And quiet!” Chess said. “How do you sleep at night?” Which made them laugh, but she wasn’t joking.
“I guess I’ll just get used to it,” she said. “Where’s the nearest place to get falafel?”
“What’s falafel?” Joni asked.
“My grandmother and I go out for it all the time,” Chess said. “Used to go out for it. It’s chickpeas, all fried up crunchy and garlicky and salty, on pita bread, with this sauce—”
“It’s kind of like a burger,” Alyssa explained. Chess didn’t hear because Danae was telling her where to get falafel—not nearby, unfortunately.
“There was a place right down at the end of our street,” Chess said, and she got that Closed expression.
Joni, Danae, and Alyssa all looked at one another. Danae said, “We go sometimes. Next time, I’ll ask if you can come, too.”
“Thanks,” Chess said. But it wasn’t about the falafel, Joni could tell.
At school, it was cleanup day. They gathered books from desks and other odd places, and helped Mrs. Emmons put them away. “So, what do you like to read?” Alyssa asked Chess.
“Rescue stories.”
“Rescuing what?” Danae asked.
“Animals. All kinds of animals.” Joni felt a pulse of worry in her stomach.
“Did you ever read The Incredible Journey?” Danae said. “It’s this really cool story about two dogs and a cat that rescue themselves.”
“The movie’s fantastic!” Alyssa said. “When they get back with their people, I cry, every time.”
Chess didn’t say anything. She was probably thinking, Silly animals! Putting themselves back in captivity. Joni did not want to go down that rabbit hole.
“Do you like the Cinderella movie?” she asked. It felt really obvious. She wasn’t good at clever moves like changing the subject.
But it turned out to be a brilliant question. The other three each liked a different Cinderella movie, and the debate lasted through school and on the bus ride, all the way to Danae and Alyssa’s bus stop.
Now only Joni and Chess were left on the bus. Silence fell. It had been a long day, fun and sociable, so Joni needed her ride on Archie. Alone. It was important, like Mom’s coffee in the morning, or Dad’s weird buttermilk drink during haying season.
But what did Chess expect? Nothing was said until Joni stood up to get off the bus.
“See you later?” Chess asked.
Joni opened her mouth to say no. Instead, she said, “Uh—sure.”
She biked slowly down the farm road, mad at herself. Why had she said that? Because she was nice—wimpy nice. Now she was stuck.
She could just not go. She could say Archie had misbehaved, or that she’d forgotten a doctor’s appointment. But Chess wouldn’t believe her. Nobody believed Joni when she lied. She walked into the house, and Dad handed her the phone. “Your sister,” he said.
“Hey!” It was Olivia. “I’m coming home!”
“You are? When?”
“Who knows!” Olivia said happily. “We’re on our bicycles, and visiting friends along the way. It could be a week.”
“Are you coming to stay?”
“Yes. We just quit our jobs. Remember Rosita, from my graduation? Daddy doesn’t have an intern this summer, so we’re going to make cheese and help him hay. Then—who knows? Grad school, maybe? Or I could go into the Peace Corps. Hey, I can’t wait to see you, Jon-Jon!”
“Me, either!” Joni said. Olivia was her favorite sister. Kate always knew best, but Olivia listened, and stayed up late with Joni, talking about things. “Do you have to bike?” Joni asked. “Couldn’t Dad go get you?”
Olivia laughed. “Daddy’s got one or two other things to do! Hang in there, kiddo. I’m in New York State. I’ll be there in no time. Let me talk to him again, okay?”
Joni handed Dad the phone, feeling a lot better. Olivia would understand about the captive animal thing. If there was a problem, she would help Joni smooth things out. Or maybe it wouldn’t matter anymore. Because with Olivia home all summer, Joni wouldn’t need a friend next door. She’d have one right here.
Chess waited at the bottom of the lawn again. Th
is time she was leaning on a bike. “Mom says I can ride along with you, if that’s okay.”
“Horse!” A little boy stood on the lawn, holding a slender woman’s hand. He waved. “Horse!” Joni waved back, even though she knew he was waving at Archie.
“Is it okay?” Chess asked. “Will the bike scare him?”
Once again, there was a way out, and once again, Joni found herself not taking it. “Nothing scares Archie.” Other than the llama that time, and who could blame him? Llamas kind of looked like space aliens.
They headed down the road. Chess labored over the pedals, not like Olivia, flying along like a bird somewhere out in western New York. Whenever she managed a burst of speed, Archie quickened his pace to stay ahead. Chess was too breathless to talk.
At Mrs. Abernathy’s driveway she slowed, coasting down the middle of the road with her head turned toward the house and barn. Archie looked, too, but there was no sign of the minis or their owner. Good! This was all easier than Joni had expected—and quieter.
They reached the intersection with the main road as a river of brown cows crossed it. Somebody stood in the road on each side of the herd, but the cows needed no guidance. They knew where they were going and had their minds on supper.
Chess said, “I thought cows were black and white.”
“These are Jerseys,” Joni said, trying not to sound superior. She and Danae had asked some questions about California today that were probably just as dumb, and Chess had been nice about it. “They give less milk than the black-and-white cows, but it has more cream. Dad uses some of these cows’ milk to make cheese.”
Chess probably thought milk was gross. But she didn’t say anything, just stood watching the cows. Then she looked over her shoulder. “I’m surprised my mom isn’t coming to check up on me already! Your parents let you go anywhere?”
“Anywhere” was this dirt road, and the back pasture route to Danae’s and Alyssa’s, and a few trails through the woods. Still—
“Yes,” Joni said.
