Jade's Summer of Horses

by Amy Brown

  Back at the house, waiting for yet another of Flora’s extraordinary dinners, the girls examined the inventory of protest equipment. Placards, banners, Casey’s length of chain (which he was happy to donate), and a loud-hailer, acquired somehow by Ngaire, were ready and waiting in Flora’s small living room.

  ‘Everything’s ready,’ Nellie said, with satisfaction.

  ‘No, it isn’t!’ Flora remembered suddenly that the youngsters were still in the paddock in question. ‘We’ll have to move them while it’s still light.’

  ‘Where will we put them? There’s no room,’ Andy said.

  ‘What if we swapped them with the ponies?’ Nellie suggested. ‘The ponies are used to traffic and people. They won’t mind. And having the paddock completely empty will look like we’re making way for the bulldozers rather than trying to stop them.’

  Flora frowned. ‘I’d rather keep all my animals well away from the drama.’

  ‘But the ponies are old hands. They’re used to drama.’

  ‘OK, fine. I suppose there’s no other option,’ Flora gave in. ‘All hands on deck now. Rhian, can you keep an eye on dinner? Everyone else, grab halters and lead ropes.’

  The youngsters grazed in halters, so catching them was relatively simple; all they needed to do was clip on a lead rope. Leading them, however, was a different story. While they had been handled a great deal and loved attention, the youngsters were still unaccustomed to being dragged around by a rope. To them it seemed undignified.

  With the ponies waiting patiently in the yards, their paddock vacated for the young ones, Flora went first, leading comparatively co-operative Mahler. Artie, who was Mahler’s best friend, was torn: he wanted to follow his paddock mate, but would also have preferred to fight against the lead rope.

  ‘That’s enough, Mozart,’ Nellie growled. She knew the difference between genuine fear and naughtiness.

  Of the three remaining youngsters, Vivaldi was the most docile. As a foal she had been sickly and had become used to time on the lead rein during vet visits. Bravely, the pretty filly led the way. Jade, who had opted to take her, patted her young neck. ‘Good girl. Brave, brave girl.’

  Andy and her mum had more of a challenge with fractious Bam Bam and Choppy. When they were finally transferred to the ponies’ paddock and the gate was securely closed, Andy’s mum rubbed her right shoulder and winced. ‘I don’t know how you do it every day, Flo, looking after these brutes.’

  ‘They’re not brutes,’ Flora said, giving Viv, who was loitering at the gate, a quick peck on the nose. ‘They’re my babies.’

  By the time the ponies had been moved from the yards to the youngsters’ paddock, the fish pie, which Rhian had been minding, was bubbling over the side of its dish and smelling delicious.

  ‘Eat up, everyone,’ Flora said, serving large portions as usual. ‘Tomorrow is going to be another big day.’

  As Jade was distributing buckets of feed to the broodmares the following morning, she heard a noise that sounded something like a very large ironing board opening — a loud, deep screeching that continued in breaths. The mares briefly forgot about their breakfast; all ears were pricked towards the front gate. Leaving the mares to it, Jade ran back to the yard to see what the commotion was.

  ‘You said to bring something that would make a noise, but wouldn’t be too scary for the horses,’ Mata told Flora. ‘So we thought Don Quixote would do the trick.’

  ‘I think he is scaring the horses,’ Nellie said, watching Sam snorting and pawing at the ground, eyeing up the old donkey.

  ‘Issa and Basho don’t mind him.’

  ‘They’re used to him,’ Nellie said.

  ‘Ours will be used to him soon, too,’ Flora reasoned. ‘I think it’s a good idea. Don Quixote is very welcome at our little protest.’ Don Quixote the donkey: this was easily the best-named animal she had ever met, Jade thought.

  Dumpling, the pony least daunted by the donkey, was nominated to stand with him outside the gate. Rhian had the bright idea of draping one of the old-sheet banners over Dumpling’s wide back. It said: I’LL SHOUT EVEN THOUGH I’M A LITTLE HORSE!

  ‘A patient little pony,’ Andy said, scratching Dumpling behind the ear, where she always seemed to be itchy. The banner-sheet covered the pony so thoroughly that it dragged in the sand.

  ‘Let’s get some carrots to keep the animal protesters happy,’ Jade suggested.

  Inside, Andy’s mum was whisking an enormous bowl of pancake batter. Three frying pans were waiting on the hobs ready for action, and an array of toppings was laid out on the table: jam, sugar, lemon wedges, sliced banana and golden syrup.

  ‘Even if no one shows up, at least we’ll have the consolation of a good meal,’ she said.

  ‘I wish we could eat now,’ Andy whined. ‘My stomach keeps growling.’

  ‘Borborygmus,’ Rhian said.

  ‘What?’ Andy thought her sister was insulting her.

  ‘That’s the medical term for when your tummy rumbles.’

  ‘Where did you learn that?’ their mother asked, surprised.

  ‘I don’t know. TV or somewhere.’

  Andy and Rhian’s mum shook her head, marvelling at her odd children. ‘You deserve a pancake right now, for teaching us such a good word, but I reckon we should wait until after the protest.’

  ‘What if it takes hours?’ Jade asked. Having seen all the yummy toppings, she decided she was hungry, too.

  ‘Wouldn’t it be easier if we’d already eaten? That way we can help feed the others rather than just hogging the food ourselves?’ Rhian’s argument was good. Her mum sighed.

  ‘Okay, you’ve twisted my arm. I’ll do a test batch now. Go and call the others in.’

  It was past eight-thirty when Jade’s dad arrived to find the protesters gobbling down pancakes.

  ‘I had a call last night from Ms Bandt herself,’ he said, wearily. ‘She accused me of libel. I told her that everything I wrote was true, and she wavered and said she might delay the levelling.’

  ‘Good?’ Nellie asked, wondering why Jade’s dad was still looking so exhausted.

  ‘So I thought, but when I walked down now I saw a couple of diggers driving down the beach road. I think it’s time to get out there, even if the locals still haven’t arrived. Where’s Casey? Not still in his container, I hope?’

  Casey, along with a supportive Sir William Buller, had beaten the girls to it and chained himself to the gate of the evacuated paddock. Pikelet was nosing at him suspiciously.

  ‘Casey!’ Nellie called. ‘You stole our idea.’

  ‘Plenty of chain for everyone,’ he said chirpily, and patted the ground next to him. ‘Come and sit here, Nell.’

  Jade didn’t especially want to be chained up, even though they weren’t actually locking the chains to the fence. But the others were keen, so she felt obliged to join them. Her dad laughed as she sat grimly with the others.

  ‘This is going to make a splendid photo when the diggers arrive.’ But, although he was laughing, he sounded nervous.

  ‘Where’s everyone else?’ Flora asked. ‘It’ll look pathetic if it’s just us.’

  ‘Be patient, Flora,’ Ngaire said. ‘It’ll only take the diggers driving past the baches to get everyone out of bed. Once they see what’s going on, they won’t be able to help themselves from joining in.’

  Ngaire was right. It was exhilarating watching vehicles that looked so out of place on the beach rolling slowly towards Samudra. Better still was seeing people, one by one, walking out to the beach to watch what was going on. One family in particular was striding down the sand, faster than the vehicles. The mother was calling to each bach, presumably telling others to join the protest.

  When she arrived at the gate, Mrs Charleston claimed the placard she had chosen the day before.

  ‘Nice day for a battle,’ she said. Jade wondered how such a formidable woman could have such timid boys. But when Mata asked them to do her a huge favour and hold Don Quixote’s lead
rope, Paul and Ralph no longer appeared shy.

  ‘And you can hold Dumpling’s,’ Flora said, seeing how happy the twins were to be given a task.

  ‘Now, where’s that loud-hailer?’ Flora asked. ‘I think it’s time for some chants.’

  With only about fifteen people, the chants were weak. It was something, Casey said, that they ought to have practised earlier.

  ‘What do we want?’ Flora shouted. There was a long pause, before everyone said something slightly different. While Ralph’s shout of ‘Pancakes!’ was funniest, Nellie’s ‘A home for our horses!’ seemed most appropriate.

  ‘When do we want it?’

  ‘Now!’

  Other voices gradually joined the original fifteen. They rose against the roar of the diggers, which had finally reached the gate. Unable to proceed further without harming people, the vehicles stopped. A man in a hi-viz vest jumped down from the driver’s seat and approached Flora.

  ‘This isn’t our fault, lady,’ he said. ‘I didn’t even want to work today.’

  ‘Well, don’t.’

  ‘I’ll lose my job.’

  ‘Stand up for what you believe in!’ Nellie yelled.

  ‘You’re kicking me out of my home!’ Casey joined in. ‘And ruining the best thing about this beach! Let’s hear from the locals: do you want an ugly great subdivision or Samudra Riding School?’

  ‘Samudra!’ several people yelled.

  ‘Samudra! Samudra! Samudra!’ A new chant began.

  Perhaps hearing his name, clever Sam whinnied impressively from his paddock behind the yards. Nellie laughed proudly.

  ‘Like I said, this isn’t my choice, but I have been given instructions,’ the man in the hi-viz vest said.

  ‘Here are some new instructions,’ Flora said. ‘Turn around and drive straight back to town. We don’t need you here.’

  ‘Don’t take it out on me, lady. And you lot,’ he said to Casey, Nellie, Jade and Andy, ‘if you’re not off that gate in ten seconds, I’m going to drive over you.’

  ‘That will make a good photo,’ Jade’s dad said, holding up his camera. ‘Simon Lennox, editor of the Flaxton Times.’

  The driver held his hands over his face as Jade’s dad started snapping photos. ‘That’s great! When you hide your face you look even guiltier,’ he said. ‘That’s perfect. Front-page stuff, I reckon.’

  Angry at being made fun of, the driver climbed back up into the seat of his digger. The motor spluttered to life.

  ‘We’re not moving!’ Nellie yelled.

  ‘Well, I am,’ the driver called back. ‘You’ve been warned.’

  As the digger rolled slowly closer and closer to the gate, Jade saw a familiar figure trying to run down the beach, but hindered by her high heels.

  ‘Stop!’ the voice called.

  ‘I think that’s your boss,’ Flora said through the loud-hailer to the driver. This announcement made him brake suddenly.

  ‘What are you doing?’ a flustered Kim Bandt cried. ‘Did you not get my message?’

  ‘No!’ the driver shouted back. ‘I wish I had!’

  ‘The levelling is postponed for today,’ Kim announced, as if she were doing everyone a favour.

  ‘“For today”?’ Casey asked. ‘So, when’s the new date for destroying my home?’

  ‘We can discuss that later … with my lawyers,’ Kim Bandt replied, adjusting the tortoiseshell sunglasses that were slipping down her nose, and removing a strand of hair from her eye.

  ‘Yes, I believe you’ll need a good lawyer, Ms Bandt,’ Jade’s dad said.

  ‘So will you, Mr Lennox. What you wrote was libellous.’

  ‘Shall we let our respective lawyers decide whether my article was libel or the truth?’ Jade’s dad said, in a way that made Jade feel very proud.

  ‘This is a ridiculous over-reaction!’ Kim Bandt said, only now seeming to notice the small crowd of Samudra supporters. ‘Can’t you people see that I have Ocean Bay’s best interests at heart? I am just trying to raise this community’s profile, boost its revenue —’

  ‘And in the process make pots of money for yourself, which you’ll spend on your growing collection of hideous leopard-print stilettos,’ Nellie spat.

  ‘Woohoo, Nellie!’ Andy cheered, and others in the crowd joined in.

  ‘Can’t you see that your subdivision is not wanted?’ What you’re planning isn’t right,’ Flora said calmly. ‘Now, take your machinery away and leave us to enjoy our beach, please.’

  Looking like Rumpelstiltskin when he stamped his foot so hard he fell through the floor, Kim Bandt bellowed at her drivers, telling them to go home.

  ‘This isn’t over,’ she hissed at Jade’s dad.

  ‘Oh, I think it is,’ he said, grinning. ‘I think it is.’

  Casey hurried through the busy riding-school yard, clutching to his chest a biscuit tin and a book. These were his valuables: The Rime of the Ancient Mariner and a small box of possessions about which he was secretive.

  Sir William followed close on Casey’s heels. The cat disliked most of the horses; in fact, Pip was the only one he had really taken to. So on summer days such as this one, when every riding horse on the property was being used for treks and lessons, the cat preferred not to stray from the container. That’s where he and his owner were heading for — their home, which wasn’t going to be taken away from them, not by Kim Bandt at least.

  Since the protest, or rather the article that Jade’s dad had written covering the protest, Flora and Nellie had been inundated with bookings. Everyone at Ocean Bay wanted to be a part of their local riding school. With a full appointment book, and foals on the way in the mares’ paddock, Flora invited Jade and Andy to stay and work until the end of the school holidays.

  ‘I’ll pay you decent pocket money,’ she said. ‘After all, you two are the stars of the show, along with Nellie and Casey.’ The photograph of the four of them chained to the gate had taken up nearly the whole of the top half of the Flaxton Times’s front page. Casey, Nellie and Andy all appeared to be yelling at the driver, but Jade, realizing that her dad was taking the photo, was smiling at the camera. Nellie thought it weakened the effect of the headline — ‘We shall not be moved’ — as it seemed that Jade was enjoying herself too much, but Flora disagreed. ‘You have a likable face, Jade. That little smile puts everyone on your side. On our side.’

  Jade enjoyed feeling moderately famous. Even teenagers treated her with deference.

  ‘I think it’s so cool, the way you guys saved this place,’ said a girl who looked about sixteen. She was sitting on Pip as Jade led the pony around the paddock, preparing them both for the beginner’s ride. ‘What are you doing tonight? You guys should definitely come down to the surf life saving club. There will be a massive party.’

  It was New Year’s Eve, and a celebration — not only of the new year but of the riding school’s survival — was planned at Samudra. ‘We’re having a little party here,’ Jade said.

  ‘Cool, can anyone come along?’

  Jade remembered Flora’s words. ‘All are welcome, so long as there are no fireworks or fools who throw bottles.’

  The girl laughed. ‘No fireworks? Maybe I should just stay at the club.’

  ‘We don’t want to upset the horses. We’re allowed to have a bonfire, though, and sparklers, and there’s a big bag of marshmallows, too.’

  The sixteen-year-old seemed unimpressed. The effect of Jade’s fame, it seemed, was wearing off. ‘Can’t we go any faster? I feel like I can ride now.’ ‘No. Pip is only allowed to walk, for the sake of her health.’

  ‘Did I get the dud pony? The old, limping plodder?’

  Jade had to restrain herself. ‘Pip is a very good pony, but, yes, she is old. She works hard and we need to respect her.’

  Jade hoped silently that the girl wouldn’t join their party that evening.

  At lunch, everyone grumbled contentedly.

  ‘They won’t stop taking photos of my container,’ Casey complain
ed. ‘One of them even asked me to smile! What sort of person does that?’

  ‘At least you didn’t have to be “professional” around swarms of ignorant newcomers who just want to visit the place that has been in the paper. Hardly any of the class this morning actually seemed to care about the horses,’ Nellie said. ‘I hate the public.’

  Jade smiled and remembered what her dad had told her. She thought better of repeating his words to Nellie.

  ‘I don’t think I stopped working all morning, not even for five minutes,’ Andy joined in. ‘All that grooming, rubbing down, tacking up, untacking. My arms ache.’

  ‘Welcome to my world,’ Flora smiled. ‘It’s the price we have to pay for being appreciated. Look at my appointment diary.’ She flicked through the pages: every page in the first half of the book was scrawled on with blue ink. ‘Bookings right up until May. And the visitor’s book — that’s a nice read, too.’ Flora opened the heavy book that usually sat in the reception area, a tiny conservatory near the tack room, where Flora displayed her endurance prizes, and now Andy’s drawing of the Samudra horses. Flora read aloud:

  29/12

  Dear Samudra

  I am so glad you have stayed open. I would much rather see people on horses than dirt bikes riding down the beach. The day a subdivision is built on Samudra’s land is the day I stop coming to Ocean Bay.

  Kerry, 48, Flaxton

  Flora paused as she turned the pages, looking for another entry. ‘Here, I really like this one,’ she said.

  31/12

  Dear Samudra

  Samudra isn’t just about riding. It’s a place that demonstrates what people can learn about themselves through contact with animals. Riding Jeeves, I relaxed properly for the first time in ages. I learned the importance of co-operation with, and respect for, the horse. I will cherish this experience and recommend it to any friends who visit New Zealand.