Hard Hat

by Bonnie Bryant

  “Okay by me,” Lisa said. “Now, as to activities. We can read her books about ponies, and she likes to draw things.”

  “Scribble,” Stevie corrected her.

  “Well, yes, but don’t you think Picasso started with scribbles?”

  “I bet she’d like to play with clay,” Carole suggested.

  Fifteen minutes later the girls had a long list of activities for Maxi and a pretty good idea of when each of them would be caring for her. Stevie smiled, looking at Lisa. There were some real advantages to having a truly organized friend.

  “Oh, Stevie! There you are!” Mrs. Lake hurried into the kitchen, an excited look on her face.

  “Mrs. Lake, you should know by now that the best place to find Stevie is always in the kitchen,” Carole teased.

  “You’re right about that,” said Stevie’s mother.

  “What’s up?” Stevie asked.

  “We are!” she said. “I mean, you and I are going on a trip!”

  “We are?”

  “I’ve got to be in New York City next week on business and I’ve arranged to stay with my college friend Elisa Evans. You remember Mrs. Evans, don’t you?”

  Stevie didn’t remember her, but she didn’t think that mattered very much. She just nodded.

  “Well, she lives in this big house on the Upper East Side and she’s got a daughter almost exactly your age. In fact, Elisa and I were pregnant at the same time. I haven’t met Regina—that’s her daughter—but Elisa has told me a lot about her and I think the two of you are going to get along just fine. Actually … from what she said, I’m a little worried that you’re going to get along too well. Apparently Regina is quite a prankster. That reminds me, I got a call from Miss Fenton’s office …”

  “You mean I’m going to New York with you?” Stevie asked, thinking it would be a good idea to skip the question about Miss Fenton’s office.

  “If you want to,” said Mrs. Lake. “It should be a lot of fun. I mean, museums, theaters, restaurants—you know how great that city is. And you’ll get to meet Regina. Elisa and I are sure you’re going to like each other. Want to come?”

  Stevie looked at her friends. She felt bad about leaving after they’d just planned a whole Saddle Club project baby-sitting Maxi. Hmmm. Maxi: mud pies, diapers, smeared spaghetti, splattered finger paint. New York: museums, subways, restaurants, new friends.

  Stevie scratched her head.

  “Oh, stop it!” Lisa said.

  “Stop what?” Stevie asked.

  “Stop pretending there’s anything to decide!” said Lisa. “Of course you’re going to New York. The only problem is that Carole and I wish we could come, too!”

  “Definitely,” Carole agreed.

  “You don’t mind me leaving you with Maxi?” Stevie asked.

  “Not a bit,” Carole assured her. “All the more babysitting money for the two of us.”

  Stevie grinned. “You guys are the best,” she said.

  “It’s decided, then,” said Mrs. Lake. “We’ll leave Monday morning.”

  “HEY, LOOK! IT’S the Empire State Building!” Carole announced, handing a postcard to Lisa.

  The two of them were at Pine Hollow, looking after Maxi, when Mrs. Reg handed them their first postcard from Stevie.

  “She’s having fun,” Lisa said, looking at the scribbled note.

  “Of course she is. She’s in New York. What does she say?”

  “Hmmm. ‘New York is great,’ ” she read. “ ‘But you already know that. We didn’t go to the Empire State Building, but the picture was so N.Y. that I couldn’t resist. Mom was right, Regina is my kind of girl. You’d love her, too. The first thing we did when I got here was climb over the fence in her backyard. We got chased by a dog, but that’s another story. The only thing missing in this wonderful place is you and Pine Hollow and horses and TD’s and Max. Well, it’s still a great place!’ ”

  “Hmmph,” Carole grunted. “She’s completely forgotten that there are horses in New York.”

  “And we rode them,” said Lisa.

  “Right,” Carole agreed. “That’s where we met …”

  “SKYE RANSOM,” STEVIE said.

  “You really met, like, the real Skye Ransom? Here?” Regina asked.

  Stevie nodded. She was sitting in Regina’s backyard with a group of Regina’s friends from the neighborhood. The backyard and the neighborhood were like nothing else Stevie had ever seen. Almost the whole block was made up of houses, but not houses like they had in Willow Creek. These were taller, narrower, and closer together—in fact they were touching. Most of them were four stories tall, and they seemed to have only a front and back room on each story. Stevie had learned that they were called brownstones, after the brown sandstone that covered the exterior of most of them. Some were actually brick, but it didn’t seem to matter. They were still called brownstones. And behind each one was a yard, carefully fenced and dividing a large open area in the center of the block.

  None of the yards was very large, and except for the fact that they were pretty much the same size and shape, they were all unique. Most of them had some plants and grass, though a few were just concrete. Some had play things for children. Others had chairs and tables and barbecue grills. A few had trees to climb. Most of the fences were not very high, though they did provide some privacy for each of the gardens.

  Best of all, as far as Stevie was concerned, almost all the fences could be climbed, and many of them were of wide brick that made them perfect for walking along, as long as you took extra care for balance. It had taken Stevie only about four minutes to fall in love with the place. Because the houses were big, most of them with four or more bedrooms, there were a lot of children of different ages. On the warm, sunny summer days, they all played together.

  Stevie felt comfortable with Regina and her friends and quickly got the hang of going from garden to garden, playing at other kids’ houses, with other kids’ pets and other kids’ games. She especially liked when other kids’ parents handed out cookies and milk, totally unaware of the fact that they’d just gotten snacks two houses away! New York was great.

  “Absolutely, we met Skye Ransom,” Stevie said. “And the next time you see him ride a horse in a movie, you should know who taught him everything he knows about riding.”

  “You’re kidding,” said Ann, a girl who lived next door to the Evanses. “I read in a magazine that he’s a good rider.”

  “He is now!” Stevie told her. And then she explained about how she and her friends had been riding in Central Park when they’d found Skye, who’d just been thrown from his horse. It was only because of their coaching that he was able to keep his riding ignorance a secret from the movie director and learn enough to succeed in his scenes on horseback.

  “What a story!” said Liza, who lived across the way. Liza reminded Stevie of Lisa. She had a sweet girlish quality and a neat appearance that made her seem like she would never get dirty or wrinkled. She was also a little shy; but compared to Regina, anybody might appear shy.

  “It’s true. It really is,” Stevie said.

  “I’m sure,” said Peter, Ann’s older brother. Only he said it in a tone that meant he wasn’t at all sure. “Anyway, who cares about Skye Ransom?”

  “Professional jealousy?” Stevie asked, teasing.

  “I plead the Fifth,” said Peter. He was a nice guy. Stevie had liked him from the minute she met him. He and Ann had a little brother, Gordon, who reminded Stevie of her own little brother, Michael. Stevie’s brother could be something of a nuisance on occasion, but she loved him dearly—even though she’d never dream of telling him that. Peter seemed to feel the same way about Gordon and didn’t even mind the fact that Gordon always wanted to tag along with the older kids. Ann tolerated both of her brothers well—much better than Stevie did her own brothers. Ann was almost exactly the same age as Stevie and Regina. Peter was two years older and Gordon three years younger. The three of them were unmistakably siblings, each having stra
ight dark brown hair, intense gray eyes, and mischievous smiles. One glance and Stevie had known they’d be people she liked.

  Stevie had learned that Peter, Ann, and Gordon’s father was a doctor whose office was in their house. Ann’s bedroom was on the third floor—the same floor on the same side of the house as Regina’s. It was possible, though not necessarily wise, to go from one girl’s bedroom to the other via the fire escapes on each of the houses. “We have to hold on really tight,” Regina explained. “And we never, ever, tell our mothers.”

  “Never,” Ann agreed.

  “Let’s play,” said Regina.

  “Play what?” asked Liza.

  “Hide-and-seek,” Regina said. “Stevie and I will pair up for now since she doesn’t know the place at all. And, um, Peter, you’re It!”

  Peter dutifully closed his eyes and began counting out loud. “One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand …”

  “C’mon. We only have until one hundred,” Regina said, grabbing Stevie’s hand.

  Quick as could be, the girls scaled the fence and dashed along the brick wall to the left of Regina’s house. The others were scattering rapidly, too.

  Stevie followed Regina, who led her along the top of the fence for two gardens, into the next garden, through a gate, under a broken fence, and into a yard that nobody had done any work in for a long time. One wall was covered with twisted vines of wisteria. Regina lifted the tangled mass of greenery and revealed a small hiding place.

  The two girls slid under the vines and Regina let go. They were completely hidden behind the thick layer of green leaves.

  “He’ll never find us,” Stevie said.

  “Sure he will,” said Regina. “But not right away. There are only so many hiding places. We all know them well. It’s mostly a matter of where he looks first.”

  That seemed like an odd remark about a place like New York City, but it turned out to be true for the backyard gang, because they’d established rules for fairness. Players weren’t allowed to go inside any of the houses and they had to stay within the known backyards. There was an alleyway that led to the street, and they couldn’t go there, either.

  It took Peter about ten minutes to find them. It took Liza longer to find them during the next round, when they were crouched behind a garden shed at the other end of the block. It took Ann only five minutes to find them on the next round, when they were hidden behind a stack of lawn chairs, but Ann’s job was made simpler by the big black poodle that lived in that yard and that sniffed and barked excitedly.

  Then it was Gordon’s turn to be It. Regina led Stevie to a big bushy rhododendron next to a tall brick wall at the far end of the gardens. The leaves hung down almost as densely as the wisteria had in their first hiding place. There were no sounds of Gordon approaching and no dogs to betray them.

  “You really met Skye Ransom?” Regina asked again, settling down on her haunches under the dense greenery.

  “Yes, we did. And we’ve stayed in touch with him,” Stevie said. “I mean, it’s not like we see him every week or anything, but I guess you’d say we’re really his friends.”

  Regina sighed. “I don’t think the other kids believe you.”

  “I know,” Stevie said. “Sometimes I don’t believe it myself, but it’s true. It’s also true that we’ve gotten him out of some scrapes.”

  “The handsomest actor in America needs help from a bunch of girls?” Regina asked.

  “Not just any bunch,” Stevie said. “It’s The Saddle Club!” She was teasing, and she could tell Regina knew it. She smiled. “Anyway, even though he is definitely totally handsome, I think he’s more interested in my friend Lisa than he is in me.”

  “Bummer.”

  “I don’t think it makes much difference. We’re all friends and he’s a real person, too. I mean, if he was here, he’d be crouching in this cramped, uncomfortable place just like we are.”

  “Where’s Gordon?” Regina asked.

  “Just what I was wondering,” Stevie said, glancing at her watch. “Maybe he went home.”

  “It would be typical,” Regina said. “He says he wants to keep up with us, but you know how it is with little kids.”

  “Yeah, I know,” said Stevie, wondering briefly how her friends were doing with Maxi.

  “I’m going to check something,” Regina said, standing up.

  Two seconds later Stevie realized she had no idea where Regina was. But she couldn’t have gone far, could she? Stevie peered through the thick foliage. No legs, no feet, no Regina.

  She listened. In the distance she could hear the sounds of the city, cars on the other side of the buildings, music emanating from one house, a piano playing in another, and a vacuum cleaner someplace else. She could hear a couple having an argument in a house nearby. A dog barked. Two answered.

  “Regina?” Stevie whispered, still reluctant to give away their hiding place, though it was becoming clear that the game was over.

  “Regina?” Slowly Stevie stood up and peered through the upper branches of the bush that still shrouded her.

  “Regina?” Stevie spoke out loud, now stepping toward the slanting sunlight that told her it was late afternoon. She pushed aside the branches and stepped out into the stranger’s backyard where she and Regina had been hidden for half an hour. She looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. She couldn’t remember how they’d gotten there, and she wasn’t sure which house was Regina’s.

  “Regina!” she called out.

  No answer.

  “GET HER!”

  Lisa dropped the currycomb she was using and ran. Even as she was doing it, she was aware of the irony that she had to run as fast as she could in order to catch up with a toddler who was merely walking—straight into trouble!

  Maxi seemed oblivious to the fact that her goal—Carole’s grooming bucket—was on the other side of Belle and that her route was going to take her right under the horse’s belly. She could comfortably march underneath the horse even standing at her full height, but Lisa wasn’t so certain that Belle would appreciate being used as a tunnel. Belle, Stevie’s horse, had been laid low with a sore leg, and Carole and Lisa were giving her special loving attention in Stevie’s absence.

  Lisa managed to grab Maxi by the waist just before she toddled under the mare’s legs.

  “Nice catch!” Carole said.

  Holding Maxi under one arm, Lisa fetched the portable mounting block and set it down next to Belle. She handed Maxi a chamois and showed her how to rub the horse’s smooth coat with the soft cloth.

  Sometimes Maxi rubbed the hair in the direction it grew, sometimes she didn’t. Fortunately, even with a sore leg, Belle was good-natured. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t even flinch when Maxi tumbled off the mounting block.

  “I knew the riding helmet was a good idea,” Lisa said, picking up the little girl and putting her back on the block.

  Carole smiled. “Well, she’s got enough padding on her other landing site, doesn’t she?” she asked, looking at the thick diaper-and-pants covering that protected Maxi’s bottom whenever she fell down.

  “She’s so cute,” Lisa said, regarding their little charge.

  “Yes, but as Max noticed, she’s a slight distraction if you’re trying to get anything else done.”

  “Like horse care or instruction or stable management.”

  “Anything,” Carole repeated.

  They had been trying to groom Belle for over an hour.

  “REGINA!” STEVIE TRIED to control the panic in her voice, but she found herself overwhelmed with the kinds of fears her mother always talked about having. She started remembering everything bad she’d ever heard about children lost in the city. Regina might have been mugged or, worse, kidnapped. She could be being held hostage by international terrorists. Stevie’s mind was working so fast that she was already trying to figure out how to raise the ransom money when she thought she heard a sound.

  “Regina?” she called out again.

/>   There was no answer. But there was a shuffling sound. It could be the kidnappers. It could be the muggers. It could be murderers or marauders or whatever bad guys there are that hang around backyards in New York.

  There was another sound—a snort, a snuffle. The sound of a giggle being stifled. Ah, perhaps it was the work of the rogue band of ticklers! Stevie found herself not as worried but a lot more curious. She looked around, trying to judge where the sound had come from.

  She was standing by a brick wall that abutted an old greenhouse. All the glass panes had been shattered, their ruins covering the abandoned greenhouse floor. The ghostly remains of the window frames were chipped and worn. Inside among the glass shards were long rows of boards on blocks, the former resting place of hundreds of potted plants. Stevie went inside. There was no sign of Regina, but Stevie was certain that this was where the giggles had come from. The greenhouse was attached to an old brownstone, the building at the farthest end of the block. Stevie remembered seeing it from the street because it was boarded up and had signs warning people away and notices that a licensed contractor was doing work on it. At least she knew where she was now.

  At the back of the empty greenhouse, Stevie saw a door to the boarded-up house. It was boarded up, too, but there was something suspicious about the boards. Stevie walked over and tested them. They didn’t swing out as a door would, but they swung up ever so slightly.

  “Regina?” Stevie called into the shadows beyond.

  A hand darted out of the darkness and slapped Stevie’s hand sharply.

  “Tag! You’re It!”

  For a split second Stevie was stunned and confused. Then she realized she’d been at the receiving end of a practical joke. Being a natural-born practical joker herself, she wasn’t always at her best when she was on the receiving end, but in this case she was so relieved to find that Regina was there, not being tortured or held for ransom, and was accompanied by Ann, Liza, Peter, and Gordon, that she simply laughed. She proceeded into the dark room and looked around.

  “We knew you’d find us!” Regina said.