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Horse Capades

Page 9

by Bonnie Bryant


  Lisa dismounted and led Prancer out of the paddock. They were next. She walked toward the gate, wishing that Stevie and Carole were there to give her some final words of wisdom. But Stevie had performed just before Polly and was inside with Belle, and Carole was over near the paddock helping one of the other riders untangle a stirrup. Lisa was on her own.

  “I don’t know how I can convince you to trust me,” she whispered to Prancer as they waited their turn. “You’ll only do that when you’re ready. I just wish you were ready today!” She was dreading their round. If the audience had groaned at Polly and Romeo, how would they respond to Prancer when she practically came to a stop before every fence?

  It was time to mount. Lisa swung up into the saddle and gathered up the reins. “This is it, girl,” she told Prancer. “It’s all in your hands now. Or rather, your hooves.” She giggled a little despite her nervousness.

  Then she stopped. She thought about what she had just said. It really was all up to Prancer now. If she decided to trust her rider, they could have a good round. If not, it would be a disaster. But Lisa had just realized something. How could she expect Prancer to trust her when she didn’t trust Prancer?

  “That’s it,” Lisa whispered as the crowd applauded politely for the rider who was just finishing. Ever since the accident, she had been expecting Prancer to have trouble, and she had. But what if she expected her to do well? Would it work? She didn’t know. But she couldn’t think of anything else to try.

  “Next rider: Lisa Atwood on Prancer,” announced Mrs. Reg over the small loudspeaker. The crowd applauded politely as Lisa rode into the ring.

  “Okay, Prancer,” she said, just loud enough for her horse to hear. “I’m leaving it all up to you now.” She clucked to the mare and sent her once around the ring at a smooth trot. Then she steadied her with the reins and aimed her toward the first fence.

  Relax, Lisa thought to Prancer as they got closer. Or was she thinking it to herself? Soon they were just four strides away, then three … Was Prancer starting to slow down, or was it Lisa’s imagination? She signaled firmly for the horse to continue. Two strides …

  This time there could be no mistaking it. Prancer was trying to stop. Lisa signaled once again, then sat perfectly still, letting the mare make up her own mind. If she didn’t want to jump the fence, Lisa wasn’t going to make her this time. But if she did want to …

  She did. At the last stride, Prancer hesitated for a moment, and Lisa heard a few gasps from the crowd. But then the mare went ahead and jumped the fence—without any urging from Lisa. At the next fence she didn’t hesitate at all. She jumped the rest of the course clear.

  Lisa was grinning when she finished. She stopped to salute the judges and saw that Max was grinning, too. “Good job, Lisa,” he mouthed at her. And that made her grin even harder.

  * * *

  “FOURTH PLACE!” LISA squealed, hugging Carole again. Carole hugged her back.

  Stevie clapped her on the back. “Great job, Lisa,” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe you did it. She looked great out there!” Both Stevie and Carole had finished what they were doing just in time to watch their friend ride. And they had both been there to cheer when Deborah had handed Lisa her fourth-place ribbon. Lisa had cheered just as loudly for her friends when Carole and Starlight had been awarded first place and Stevie and Belle had won second. A rider named Adam Levine had come in third.

  “Thanks,” Lisa said. She glanced into the stall behind her, where Prancer was munching on some well-deserved carrots. “But I didn’t really do anything. It was all Prancer.”

  “This calls for a celebration,” Carole declared. “TD’s, anyone?”

  Lisa nodded. “Count me in,” she said. She would never have believed coming in fourth could feel so good. Usually she wasn’t completely happy unless she was first. But this time, coming in fourth felt just as good as winning. And she knew that the next time, she and Prancer would give Carole and Stevie a run for their money.

  Stevie shook her head. “Count me out,” she said sadly. “I can’t go. I have to get back home and work on my film if it’s going to be ready for Monday.”

  “Poor little Cinderella,” Carole teased. “You mean you can’t even take a break for a quick sundae?”

  “No. Sorry,” Stevie said, and she looked it. She knew her grade was on the line, and now that she had the extra footage she needed to make her film perfect, she wanted to get right to work. “You two go ahead. And have an extra scoop for me.”

  “Okay,” Lisa said. “Just as long as it doesn’t have to be raspberry ripple with caramel sauce!”

  THE FRIDAY MORNING after the Pony Club competition, Stevie filed into the Fenton Hall auditorium for morning assembly along with the rest of the students. But unlike the rest of the students, Stevie had a huge grin on her face. That was because her movie was going to be shown to the whole school.

  After the headmistress had finished her usual string of announcements and sat down, Ms. Vogel stood up and faced the audience. “It’s time for another film,” she said with a smile, holding up a hand for quiet as the students began to applaud. The moving image teacher had already shown several other students’ films in previous weeks, and her audience had been very appreciative. After all, the more time they spent watching films, the less time they had to spend listening to boring lectures on school fund-raisers.

  Stevie held her breath as Ms. Vogel loaded her tape into the video projector. She glanced around until she spotted Veronica, who was busy filing her nails a few rows ahead. Stevie grinned harder than ever. She had the funniest feeling that Veronica would be particularly interested in her film.

  The lights went down, and the movie started. The opening credits rolled. Then the picture faded up to reveal the familiar setting of Pine Hollow’s stable row. Stevie was there, dressed as Cinderella, mopping her brow and mucking out a very dirty stall.

  “Oh, dear me, what shall I do?” Stevie-as-Cinderella exclaimed on the tape. “My terrible, mean stepsisters have left me to clean out the stable all by myself. Oh, poor me—poor Cinderella. Will my pathetic life ever get better?”

  But the best part of all came a few seconds later. Stevie had edited the film to insert some of the footage Lisa had shot of Veronica’s tantrum, but she had recorded over Veronica’s voice with the new dialogue she had written for Veronica’s part, the wicked stepmother. Stevie had convinced Alex to read the part, and he had done a wonderful job, making his voice high and witchlike, complete with evil cackles. So all the audience saw was Veronica’s face twisted up into a terrible grimace, while the voiceover cackled, “Hurry up now, my pretty. There’s lots more chores for you to do. And when that’s done, you’ll help my lovely daughters get ready for the royal dressage ball, or there’ll be no bread and water for you tonight!”

  The audience roared with laughter. It was a fairly small school, and everyone knew Veronica diAngelo, at least by reputation. Seeing her in such an atypical role was a big surprise to everyone.

  But the most surprised person of all was Veronica herself. She glanced up from her nail file to see what everyone was laughing about. It took a second for her to recognize herself, and when she did her face twisted up into a snarl that very much resembled the one she wore on-screen. She whirled around and gave Stevie a withering glare. Then she hunched down in her seat and tried to make herself as small as possible. But it didn’t help. Her classmates laughed helplessly, turning one by one to grin at her or point her out to their friends.

  Veronica made several other appearances throughout the movie. Since Stevie only had a few minutes of footage to work with, she had had to use some of it more than once. Somehow, that made it even funnier. Best of all was the moment when Red—or rather, the prince’s loyal manservant—had stepped forward to save Cinderella from the wicked stepmother’s fingernails of death when she found out her stepdaughter was marrying the prince. Veronica’s “line”—“I’ll scratch your eyes out, my pretty!”—sounded completely co
nvincing when paired with Veronica’s wild-eyed run straight at the camera. By the time the movie ended, Veronica’s face was redder than the glossy crimson nail polish she was wearing.

  After the assembly, Stevie tried to make her escape, but she was mobbed by students wanting to congratulate her on the film. That made it easy for Veronica to find her.

  “I guess you think you’re pretty clever now, don’t you, Stevie?” she hissed, brushing past several girls who were asking Stevie where she’d gotten the ball gowns. “But I’m not going to stand for this. I’m going to tell your teacher you filmed me without permission. Then we’ll see how much she likes your little movie.”

  Stevie gulped. She hadn’t really thought about that. If Ms. Vogel found out what she’d done, she would be in big trouble—just as she had been when she’d filmed Alex without his permission. Before she had time to think of a plan, she saw Ms. Vogel approaching, a proud smile on her face.

  “Congratulations, Stevie,” she called out. “It seems you’re a hit!”

  Veronica turned, an unpleasant smile on her face. “Hello, Ms. Vogel,” she purred. “I’m glad you’re here. I need to talk to you about something. Something important.”

  Ms. Vogel held up one hand, still smiling. “Don’t say a word,” she told Veronica. “I think I can guess what you want to talk about, and I just want to say that I’ve been thinking the exact same thing.”

  “Huh?” Veronica looked confused.

  Stevie was confused, too. What was Ms. Vogel talking about?

  The teacher put one hand on Veronica’s shoulder. “You wanted to talk about the drama club play, right?” she went on. “I’m sure you’ve heard by now that we’re going to start casting Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra next week. And after your terrific performance in Stevie’s movie, Veronica, I think you’re a shoo-in for the part of Cleopatra. You really nailed the role of the wicked stepmother—what a convincing performance! I think you show a lot of talent and some real potential as an actress. Congratulations—and I hope I’ll see you at tryouts next week.”

  Veronica’s jaw dropped. So did Stevie’s. She couldn’t believe it. Ms. Vogel was really convinced that Veronica had been acting! But that wouldn’t do her any good if Veronica ratted on her.

  Veronica didn’t. She just smiled at the teacher. “Thank you so much, Ms. Vogel,” she said sweetly. “I’ll definitely be at tryouts. I’d love to play Cleopatra.”

  The teacher congratulated both girls again, then walked away. As soon as she was gone, Veronica’s smile changed back to a frown. “Don’t think this means you’re off the hook, Stevie,” Veronica said. “I’m still not happy about what you did.”

  Stevie knew that just because Veronica hadn’t told on her now, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t change her mind later. But she was beginning to see a way to make sure that didn’t happen. She shrugged and sighed dramatically. “Well,” she said slowly, “maybe you’re right. Maybe I should go catch Ms. Vogel and confess. I’ll tell her you weren’t acting at all, that I filmed you totally without permission—”

  “No!” Veronica interrupted. “Um, I mean, that’s not necessary. What’s done is done.” She smiled tightly. “I suppose I don’t really see any need to tell her the truth about this. But you have to promise to keep quiet, too. Ms. Vogel may be clueless, but she’s right about one thing. I am a great actress. And if she thinks that little prank of yours proves it, who am I to argue? After all, it could get me the chance to play Cleopatra.”

  Stevie shrugged again, feigning uncertainty. “Well, if you really think that’s a good idea …”

  “Of course I do,” Veronica snapped. “So just keep your mouth shut, Stevie Lake, and you won’t get hurt.” She turned and wandered away, looking thoughtful and muttering something about Cleopatra and Elizabeth Taylor and glamorous costumes.

  Stevie watched her go, the grin on her face bigger than ever.

  “IS THE POPCORN READY?” Stevie asked, hurrying into her family’s living room. She held up a video cassette. “Because here’s the main feature.”

  She pushed the tape into the VCR and joined Carole and Lisa on the couch. Carole had just finished making a big bowl of popcorn, which was sitting on the coffee table in front of them, along with tall, cool glasses of soda. It was Friday evening, and The Saddle Club was having a sleepover at Stevie’s house.

  “I can’t wait to see this masterpiece,” Lisa said with a grin, taking a handful of popcorn. Carole and Lisa had been so busy all week that this was the first chance they’d had to see Stevie’s movie. They knew that Ms. Vogel had shown Cinderella at the school assembly that morning, which made them more eager than ever to see the film.

  Stevie clicked the VCR on with the remote control. Then she leaned back to watch. No matter how many times she saw her movie, she never got tired of it.

  Carole and Lisa squealed when they saw themselves on tape. They looked grumpy and mean and obnoxious; in other words, exactly the way the wicked stepsisters were supposed to look. And they laughed until they cried when they saw Veronica as the wicked stepmother. Stevie’s idea to make Veronica an unwitting star in her film had sounded funny when she’d first proposed it. But now that they were seeing the result, Carole and Lisa had to agree that it was hysterical.

  By the time the screening was over, Carole and Lisa were laughing so hard that they had completely given up on the popcorn. As the final credits finished, Stevie hit the rewind button on the remote control. Then she turned to her friends expectantly. “Well?”

  Carole and Lisa caught their breath, looked at each other, grinned, and broke into loud, enthusiastic applause.

  “I have to admit it, Stevie. You’re a cinematic genius!” Lisa said.

  Stevie stood up and took a bow. “Thank you. Thank you,” she said. “I promise never to forget the little people who helped me when I’m the toast of Hollywood.” She sat down again and smiled. “The best part is, my teacher agreed with you,” she said. “She said this film was truly clever. And she realized how much work I put into it. After all, it’s not easy being director, scriptwriter, special effects specialist, choreographer, prop person, costume designer, and film editor all rolled into one. Not to mention star, of course. It’s more than even Cinderella herself ever had to do. So Ms. Vogel is forgiving my last film completely. I got an A-plus on the project.”

  “That’s great!” Lisa exclaimed. “So your riding career is safe again.”

  “Until the next big project is due, at least,” Carole added with a grin, reaching for her soda.

  “No way,” Stevie said, leaning back on the couch and propping her feet up on the coffee table. “I’m not letting myself get in that situation again. From now on I’m going to be more careful.”

  Lisa raised an eyebrow. “Does this mean you’re sticking with your no-practical-jokes vow?”

  “Well, maybe not completely,” Stevie admitted. “They’re too much fun to give up for good. And they can come in pretty handy sometimes, like when it’s time to give Veronica a taste of her own medicine. But I am going to cut back a little. This whole thing has taught me that there’s a time and a place for everything, including practical jokes. I just have to think more before I act, and decide before each prank if the rewards are worth the risks.”

  “Don’t tell me all those lectures from your parents and teachers have finally sunk in,” Carole teased.

  Stevie shrugged. “Nah. What really got me was the way you guys didn’t believe me about my movie.”

  “We said we were sorry about that,” Lisa reminded her.

  “I know, and I said I forgave you,” Stevie said. “But I was thinking about it, and I realized that I hadn’t given you much reason to trust me about stuff like that.”

  The girls munched their popcorn silently for a moment, thinking about what Stevie had said.

  “Well, I guess we’ve all learned something about trust lately,” Lisa said at last. “After all, it was only when I learned to trust Prancer that she got over
her jumping problem.”

  “You know, I’d almost forgotten about that already,” Carole said. “Prancer did so well in lessons this week.”

  Lisa nodded. “She has been great, hasn’t she?” she said. “She’s an awfully smart horse. And brave, too. Once she realized I was leaving everything up to her, she just went for it. She sensed how much I was trusting her and decided to go ahead and trust me back.”

  “You’re awfully smart, too,” Stevie said. “I’m not sure I would have figured that out.” The tape had finished rewinding, and she hopped up to eject it.

  “Stevie’s right,” Carole said, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of popcorn. “You did great, Lisa. It just goes to show how far you’ve come since the first time Veronica spooked your horse.”

  “Thanks,” Lisa said. She smiled. “And I almost met my goal for the show this time. Prancer’s pace was pretty steady after that first jump, right?”

  “Right,” Carole said. “I guess I did okay on my goal, too. Starlight only jumped a little when everyone applauded him this time.” She turned to Stevie. “Hey, that reminds me. You never did tell us what your goal for the show was.”

  Stevie shrugged. “Isn’t it obvious?” she said. “My goal for the show was to survive it. And it was looking iffy for a while there.” Her friends laughed, and Stevie smiled. “Actually, I did have one other goal,” she added. “And that was to place better than Veronica if I possibly could.”

  “Hmm,” Carole said. “I’m not sure Max would approve of that goal. But I guess you did it!” She picked up her glass and saluted Stevie with it.

  Stevie picked up her glass, too. “I sure did,” she said. “Thanks to The Saddle Club!” She clinked her glass against Carole’s. Lisa quickly picked up her glass, too, and clinked it with both of her friends.

  “You did even better than that,” Carole said, setting her glass back on the table. “You not only managed to keep Veronica out of the show, you managed to get her kicked out of Horse Wise again, too.”

 

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