Starting Gate

by Bonnie Bryant

  “Like having to put up with awful people like George,” said Carole, shuddering. “He was about the rudest man I’ve ever met.”

  “I know,” said Stevie. “We’ve met some pretty strange horsepeople, but I think he’s the strangest.”

  “He’s certainly the most unfriendly,” agreed Lisa.

  There was a knock on Skye’s trailer door. For an instant the girls looked at each other, not knowing if they should answer it or not.

  “Think we should get it?” asked Lisa. “It might be George.”

  “I think we should.” Carole nodded at Stevie, who sat closest to the door. “I mean, it might be some sort of important message for Skye.”

  “Okay.” Stevie hopped up and pulled the door open.

  Outside, a dark-haired guy wearing thick glasses grinned at her, a pizza box on his arm.

  “Large anchovy and mushroom,” he announced in a weird, squeaky voice.

  “We didn’t order any pizza,” said Stevie, frowning. “It’s only eight o’clock in the morning, anyway. Nobody eats pizza now.”

  “Well, that’s what this ticket says.” The young man fumbled with a slip of paper and almost dumped the pizza out on the ground. “Large anchovy and mushroom.”

  Lisa and Carole came over and stood behind Stevie. “Who ordered the pizza?” asked Carole.

  “Uh, I don’t know.” The delivery guy squinted at his ticket. “It’s hard to read this writing.”

  Lisa frowned. “You’re not really a pizza delivery guy, are you? You’re just somebody who thought this would be a good way to meet Skye Ransom!”

  The delivery guy frowned. “Skye Ransom? Who’s he?”

  “Why, he’s just about the most famous movie star in the world,” Stevie said, her hands on her hips.

  “And here he is, at your service!” The pizza delivery guy took off his glasses and fake teeth. Though his blond hair was covered with a dark wig, the girls could see Skye’s sparkling blue eyes and gorgeous smile.

  “Skye!” Stevie cried. “It’s you!”

  “Makeup did a pretty good job on short notice, didn’t they?” Skye laughed as he threw the empty pizza box on the floor. “I really had you guys fooled!”

  “You think you can fool a hundred sharp-eyed Pony Clubbers?” Lisa asked.

  “I think I can try,” Skye said. “Come on. Stephan’s waiting for us in the parking lot. He’s got strict orders to let us out a block from the gate so that none of the Pony Club competition will remotely suspect that they’ve got an actor masquerading as a fan!”

  STEPHAN DROPPED Skye and The Saddle Club off a short distance from the front gate of Ashford Farms, where the Pony Club games were being held. Skye still wore his pizza delivery shirt over his riding breeches, so the stares they got from the other riders were more curious than excited. When they walked into the arena, the girls immediately began searching for Max.

  “Wonder where he could be?” asked Stevie, shading her eyes against the bright sunlight.

  “I don’t know,” said Lisa. “He should be here with Veronica and our riding helmets.”

  “Hi, girls,” said a voice behind them. “Hi, Skye.”

  They turned. Max stood there, a bag of riding helmets in his hand, chuckling at Skye’s dark wig and fake teeth.

  “How did you recognize him?” cried Stevie. “We thought he was a pizza guy.”

  “My ESP,” Max said, laughing. “After dealing with you guys, I’m ready to expect anything. Seeing Skye Ransom dressed up like a pizza dude doesn’t surprise me in the least.” He looked around. “Where’s Veronica? You four need to hurry and get ready for these games.”

  Lisa looked mystified. “We thought she was coming with you, Max. She wanted to sleep in this morning.”

  “I knocked on her door and got no answer.” Max frowned. “Maybe she’s running late and is going to grab a cab over here. Carole, why don’t you go give her a call? You’ll have to use the pay phone; I forgot to charge my cell phone.”

  “Okay.” Carole hurried over to a pay phone by the concession stand and dug two quarters out of her pocket. Soon the operator had connected her with their hotel, and the switchboard was ringing Veronica’s room. The phone rang several times. Just as Carole began to get really worried that something serious had happened, a muffled voice croaked, “Hello?”

  “Veronica?” Carole frowned. The other girl sounded weak and breathless.

  “Hnnhh,” Veronica groaned.

  “Why are you at the hotel? You’re supposed to be here at the Pony Club games. We’re scheduled to compete in less than an hour.”

  “I’m sick.” Veronica wheezed dramatically over the phone. “I was sick all night.”

  “Sick?” Carole pressed the phone against her ear. “But you were all right at dinner last night.”

  “Well, I’m sick now,” moaned Veronica.

  Carole felt concerned until she remembered that Veronica had looked fine before she’d found out that her ragoût fin had really been the thymus gland of a calf. After that, she’d turned a weird shade of green and hadn’t said a word.

  “Well, do you think you’ll be able to ride at all today?” Carole asked. If Veronica couldn’t ride, they wouldn’t have the required number of riders, and Horse Wise would have to forfeit the match.

  “Ride?” Veronica groaned weakly. “No. I may never ride again.”

  “But—” Carole began.

  Veronica mumbled something about the water in California and her delicate constitution, then the phone went dead.

  Oh, no, Carole thought. We’ve got to do something, and fast! She hung up the phone and ran back to her friends. Stevie and Lisa were talking to Skye, but Max was nowhere in sight.

  “So where’s Veronica?” Stevie asked, laughing at Skye’s imitation of George Gamble.

  “She’s sick,” announced Carole.

  “Sick?” Lisa tucked her short blond hair behind her ears. “She was her usual rotten self last night.”

  “I think she’s suffering from a severe case of sweet-bread surprise,” Carole said. “Which would be funny, except she says she’s too sick to ride.”

  “Oh no,” groaned Stevie. “That means we’ll have to forfeit.”

  “Unless we can find a fourth rider,” said Carole.

  “Who could we get?” Lisa looked around. All the other riders seemed to be with their teams, their numbers pinned to their backs. “We don’t know anybody here except Max.”

  “How about Max?” suggested Stevie. “He’s a great rider.”

  “Yeah, and about twenty years over the age limit,” Carole replied.

  “But maybe we could get Skye to make him up like a teenager,” Stevie pressed on, her eyes bright.

  They all looked at Skye. He had his hands on his hips, just listening to the conversation.

  “Well, Skye?” Stevie asked. “What do you think?”

  “I think that’s the craziest idea I’ve ever heard,” Skye replied.

  “Then you come up with a better one!” cried Stevie. “You’re not being very sympathetic.”

  “That’s right, Skye,” agreed Lisa. “You’re in trouble and we’re helping you. Why can’t you help us?”

  “Actually, that’s exactly what I had in mind,” he said. “But you never asked me!”

  “What?” Lisa frowned, puzzled.

  Carole started to laugh. “I get it!” she said. She grinned at Skye. “He can ride in Veronica’s place. The entry form just said four riders. We didn’t have to give any names!”

  “What about a helmet?” asked Lisa.

  “Max brought Veronica’s,” said Carole. “And her head’s so big her helmet would fit anybody.”

  “Oh, you guys are brilliant!” Stevie threw her arms around Skye and gave him a hug. “Just take out those false teeth so you won’t look quite so weird. I’d hate to have you scare the horses!”

  “Okay.” Skye spit out the goofy-looking teeth and removed his clip-on bow tie. Except for the pizza shop logo o
n the pocket of his shirt, he looked like a normal rider.

  “Great!” Carole beamed. “Let’s go get our numbers and find the horses Max borrowed for us.”

  A little while later, four Horse Wise team riders were lined up behind the starting line, big red 5s pinned to the backs of their shirts.

  “Do you think anybody noticed you?” Stevie whispered to Skye as she looked at the other riders waiting for the races to begin.

  “I don’t think so.” Skye pulled Veronica’s helmet down lower over his dark wig. “It looks like everybody’s concentrating on the races. I just hope I’m good enough to help you guys out.”

  “You’ll do fine,” Carole assured him, smiling. “Just hang in there and don’t get nervous. We’ll tell you what to do. You know how to pretend you know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

  “That’s why they pay me the big bucks,” he said, grinning.

  The first race was announced. It was a keyhole race, where riders rode down a long straight path, turned their horses in a tight circle, then galloped back to the finish line. The Horse Wise team took their place behind the starting line.

  “Who wants to go first?” asked Stevie.

  “I will,” volunteered Carole. “That way Skye can see what I’m doing. Then, Skye, you go. Then Lisa. Then, Stevie, you can bat cleanup.”

  “Let’s just hope this horse can clean up,” Stevie laughed, giving the fat little gray she was riding an affectionate pat.

  The gun went off, and so did Carole. She rode her pinto mare straight down to the circle, then reined her up hard. Turning in almost a dressage pirouette, she maintained her seat perfectly, then thundered back home.

  “Got it?” Stevie asked Skye as Carole raced toward them.

  “Got it!” he called as Carole slapped his hand. He kicked his buckskin gelding into a quick gallop and they were off. He didn’t ride as fast or turn his mount as tightly as Carole did, but he held on and soon slapped Lisa’s hand, sending her on her way. A moment later it was Stevie’s turn. As the crowd cheered and riders shouted encouragement to their friends, she flew down the track. The gray turned nimbly as a cow pony, and soon they were galloping back, crossing the finish line in a blur. A moment later, she heard the announcer on the loudspeaker.

  “Congratulations to the Horse Wise team from Willow Creek, Virginia, who came in first in the keyhole race!”

  Stevie rode over and high-fived Carole, Lisa, and Skye. Everyone grinned, then they concentrated on catching their breath for the next race.

  “Now we’re going to do something a little different,” the announcer called. “We’re going to use the same keyhole course, but this time we’re going to ride it sidesaddle. All riders have to throw their right leg and stirrup over their horses and complete the course riding modified sidesaddle.”

  A buzz of excitement went through the crowd as the riders adjusted their seats and tack.

  “Think you can do this?” Carole asked Skye as she threw her right leg across the front of her saddle.

  “I don’t know,” he answered in a high, feminine voice. “I’ve never ridden like a girl before.”

  “Actually, I’ve only done it a couple of times, so it’s pretty new to me, too,” said Lisa as she adjusted her stirrup iron and shifted her rear end over the right side of the saddle.

  “It’s really not that hard,” Stevie said. “The trick is not to trot. Stay at a walk or canter and you’ll be fine.”

  When everyone was seated sideways on their horses, they went back to their places behind the starting line.

  “Who wants to go first this time?” asked Carole.

  “Why don’t you let me,” said Skye. “I’ll probably have to go slower. You guys can make up for my lost time.”

  “Okay,” the girls agreed.

  They pulled their horses slightly behind Skye’s and waited for the race to begin. With everyone looking at the distant end of the field, the starting gun fired. Skye and his horse leaped forward.

  At first the buckskin seemed confused by the odd distribution of weight in his saddle. He started off at a canter, then pulled down into a trot. For a horrible moment the girls watched Skye bobble, out of balance in the saddle, and the other horses thunder past.

  “Canter!” yelled Stevie above the crowd.

  She saw Skye’s elbows flap out once, then he leaned forward. The buckskin took off like a rocket, his hooves kicking up little mounds of dirt. Everyone held their breath as Skye wobbled through the turn, then the buckskin dug in and they raced toward the finish line.

  “Go next, Lisa!” cried Stevie as Skye came toward them with his hand extended.

  Lisa rode fast, making up some lost time for Skye, then it was Stevie’s turn. She, too, edged up a little on the competition, then Carole rode the anchor lap. Even riding sidesaddle, she sat her horse like a dream, but her mare stumbled coming out of the turn. By the time they crossed the finish line, the team in the next lane had taken off their helmets in triumph.

  “And that race goes to the Ingleside team from Valparaiso, Indiana,” the announcer proclaimed. “We’ll take a fifteen-minute break here, folks, then our next race will be the costume change.”

  “Well, I should be more help to you with that,” laughed Skye as they dismounted to let their horses drink some water. “If there’s anything I learned in the theater, it’s how to change costumes fast between acts!”

  Fifteen minutes later, everyone lined up again. At the far end of the field stood several boxes of clothes.

  “Okay, contestants. You must ride your horse to one of the boxes at the end of the field, put on pants, shirt or jacket, and a hat, and then gallop back to the starting line and tag one of your teammates. The first team that can clothe all four riders wins.”

  “Who wants to go first?” asked Carole.

  “Let me,” said Lisa. “I’m the slowest dresser. Let Skye ride anchor this time.”

  “Thanks.” Skye grinned. “I’m glad you have so much confidence in me.”

  Lisa was about to say something else when the starting gun went off. She turned her pony and galloped down to the end of the field. Stevie, Carole, and Skye watched as she pulled up next to a box, got off her horse, and dug around for some clothes. Soon she’d pulled on a pair of painter’s coveralls, a baseball jacket, and a stocking cap. Leaping back on her horse, she galloped back toward them.

  “Go!” she said, as she crossed the starting line and slapped Stevie’s hand.

  Stevie raced down to the box. She returned wearing a pair of warm-up pants, a baggy sweater, and a football helmet crammed on top of her riding hat. Next it was Carole’s turn. She galloped down the field, aware that the team from South Carolina was riding with them neck and neck. Quickly, she dug an old pleated skirt, frilly blouse, and woolly hat out of the clothes box, donned them, and jumped back on her horse. By the time she slapped Skye’s hand, the last rider from South Carolina was halfway to the box.

  “Hurry!” she cried. “They’re about to beat us.”

  Skye squeezed his horse into a gallop, arriving at the clothes box just as the other rider was beginning to pull on a pair of pants. In a flash, he was on the ground. Almost before anyone could blink their eyes, he was back in the saddle, wearing a suit coat and pants and a silvery top hat over his riding helmet.

  “Come on, Skye!” Carole and Lisa yelled. “Hurry!”

  With a final nudge at his horse, he crossed the finish line half a length in front of the rider from South Carolina.

  “All right!” Stevie cried, holding her arms high above her head.

  “Congratulations to the Horse Wise team,” said the announcer. “Those quick-change artists are in first place as we head into our final race.”

  “Oh boy,” said Lisa, her cheeks rosy with excitement. “Just one more race to go.”

  “Wonder what’ll be next,” said Carole. “We’ve done just about everything.”

  “Our final event will be the old egg-and-spoon race,” said the announcer
. “Whoever has the softest hands and steadiest nerves will win this one. Riders, be ready in about five minutes.”

  Skye looked at the girls. “Egg and spoon?” he asked with a frown.

  “You have to carry an egg in a spoon all the way down to the end of the arena and back,” explained Lisa. “If you drop it or you break your egg, you’re out of the race.”

  “Ugh,” said Skye. “That sounds a lot harder than any of the others.”

  “It is,” agreed Stevie. “Particularly for people who don’t ride every day.” She frowned. “I just wish there was some way we could even the playing field, to give you a fighting chance.”

  Suddenly she snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it! You guys wait right there! I’ll be back in a flash!”

  Skye, Carole, and Lisa watched as Stevie trotted up toward the announcer’s stand. She smiled and waved at people she didn’t know, stopping to chat with some and pointing over toward the far end of the track with her crop. In a few moments, she trotted back, a wide grin on her face.

  “What did you do, Stevie?” Carole frowned with suspicion. “You’ve got that funny grin on your face.”

  “Nothing,” Stevie replied innocently. “Just talked to some of the other contestants. Did you know there’s a rumor going around?”

  “No.” Lisa leaned forward. “What kind of rumor?”

  “Oh, that a famous movie star is here, competing in disguise.” Stevie grinned. “Somebody thought they saw him, way down at the other end of the field.”

  Everyone looked where Stevie pointed. Sure enough, there was a small cluster of girls and a few boys gathered around some helpless boy on a black horse.

  “Stevie!” cried Carole. “You didn’t!”

  Stevie shrugged. “Who knows how rumors get started?”

  A woman came by and gave them each an egg and a spoon, then the announcer called for attention.

  “Okay, riders, the last race is about to begin. Be the first team to ride four unbroken eggs down the arena and back, and you’ll win. Is everybody ready?”

  Actually, only half the competitors were ready. The other half was peering at the boy on the black horse at the far end of the field.