Madeline brushed something off Dad’s sleeve. “So what did you name that colt?”
“That’s Mason’s job,” I answered, winking at him. “He’s still going over all his options.”
They stayed for Lizzy’s spaghetti and pepperoni. Then we popped popcorn. And finally it was time for them to go.
“Do you think you could bring Mason over tomorrow morning?” I asked as they moved toward the door. “I’d love to get him together with his filly again.”
“I want to pet my filly,” Mason said as plain as day. He’s like 10 different people, and you never know which of them will speak up. I love them all.
I reached down and ruffled his wispy hair, making it stand up with static electricity.
Lizzy helped Mason with his coat. “But you have to come early, Mason,” she said, “because Winnie is going to a big party and has to get all dressed up, like Cinderella at the ball.”
Mason stared up at me through his thick glasses. “Are you famous?”
I shook my head. “If you only knew, Mason.”
But after they left, I did feel kind of famous. Not really. But not totally unpopular, at least. I was going to a real New Year’s Eve party. Summer herself had invited me.
Note to self: Life is a mystery.
Dad and Lizzy went to bed, but I waited for Hawk to call. She wouldn’t believe that Summer had actually invited me to her party. But I knew she’d be happy for me.
When the phone rang, I got it before the first ring was over. “Hawk?”
“Winnie!” Hawk sounded excited too. “Did Summer ask you to her party yet? She better have asked you. It’s the only way I said she could take over my party and have it at her house. My mother wanted to have the party as soon as I get home. But I told Summer she could have the New Year’s Eve party . . . as long as she invited Winnie Willis.”
Note to self: Mystery solved.
I thought about it most of the night. Summer had only invited me to her party because Hawk made her. Twice I got out of bed for a better look at Catman’s star. It was there, shining right where it had been every night. Something about that made me feel better.
Dad was still asleep when I got up, but Lizzy and Geri weren’t around. I figured they were prowling the snowy fields in search of creatures in distress.
I grabbed a banana for breakfast and had to take off its pointy hat and ribbon tie, ignoring the raisin eyes, before I could eat it. Lizzy and Geri had decorated the whole bowl of fruit.
Alone, all my midnight thoughts came back. So Summer Spidell didn’t invite me of her own free will. So what? I could still have a great time. Hawk wouldn’t be there, but other kids in my class were kind of nice. Like Kaylee, who sits by me in a couple of classes and always greets me with a smile. She’d get invited. And Grant. He was okay.
It was still a New Year’s Eve party, and I was going.
The door burst open, and Lizzy and Geri stormed in.
“There she is!” Geri shouted. “Wait ’til you see what we got!”
Lizzy set a brown grocery bag on the table. “Sweet! But before you look, Winnie, just know that we’re not done with it yet.”
I wasn’t all that anxious for a look. I’ve seen the things Lizzy drags home—cockroaches, spiders, snakes.
“Go ahead! Open it!” Geri commanded.
I lifted the bag. Too light for a snake. Too heavy for a roach.
I opened the bag and peeked in. A big black piece of material was folded in the bottom. I pulled it out. It was a long, shimmery, black skirt, the same kind of cool material Summer wears.
“Lizzy found it at Goodwill! Can you believe it?” Geri sounded amazed.
It was perfect. Simple but fancy. Something a famous person would wear. “Thanks, you guys. I love it.”
“You have to try it on. I’ll take up the hem, but it’s your size,” Lizzy said.
I’m so short that Lizzy has to hem everything she gets for me. “I hadn’t even thought about what I’d wear. How dumb is that?”
“I think she really likes it,” Geri whispered to Lizzy.
“I do! I love it.” But I was starting to wonder what I could wear with it. I mostly had sweatshirts and T-shirts and a couple of sweaters that were warm, but not fancy. And two dresses for church.
“What’s the matter?” Geri asked.
I forced a smile. “Nothing. I’m just . . . trying to decide what I’ll wear with it.”
“We’ve already thought of that!” Lizzy exclaimed. “Go on, Geri! Show her!”
Geri set her white plastic bag on the table. “Now, this was mine. But I only wore it once. Then I got a growth spurt, and the sleeves got too short. My mom was so excited somebody might get some use out of it. My grandmother gave it to me for—”
“Just give it to her!” Lizzy urged.
Geri pulled out a white blouse. But not just any old blouse. It might have been silk. The sleeves ended in a ruffle at the wrist. It had a high collar and tiny pearl buttons.
“Thanks, Geri.”
I tried on everything. The blouse fit great, and Lizzy pinned up the skirt. They even argued about how I should wear my hair and whether or not I could wear lipstick.
The morning kept getting better. Madeline brought Mason over as promised. And he was in the best mood. We spent a whole hour with the foal, doing all the imprinting with the filly standing beside Nickers. I don’t think I’d ever seen Mason so happy.
We finished before 11, when Sal was supposed to come. About a minute after Madeline and Mason drove off, I heard another vehicle drive up.
Sal! Right on time.
But the ba-ru-ga of the horn told me it was the Barker Bus.
I ran out to meet them. Barker and Catman piled out of the van. Granny and Mrs. Barker were in the front seat.
“You should be proud of Annie, Granny B,” I told her. “That goat has been letting the foal nurse all she wants.”
Granny Barker looked like she’d had her head stuck out the window on the drive over. Her snow-white hair framed her face like a cloud. “That’s the good Lord’s way.”
The rest of the van was filled with Barker’s brothers and their dogs. Mrs. Barker let all of them come to the barn to see the filly. Mark carried Zorro, but the other boys had to leave their dogs in their doggy seat belts. Barker had each dog so well trained, though, that there wasn’t a single bark out of them the whole time we were in the barn.
Finally Mrs. Barker rounded up her boys. “Eddy,” she called, as she started the Barker Bus again, “we’ll come back for you and Catman after we pick up groceries for tonight. Bye, Winnie! Happy New Year, in case I don’t see you!”
“Happy New Year, Mrs. Barker!”
Catman and Barker played with the foal while I cleaned Amigo’s stall. I kept listening for Sal to come, but she didn’t.
“What time is it, Barker?” I asked when I finished mucking.
“High noon,” he answered.
Sal was an hour late. “I can’t believe Sal is doing this to me again,” I complained. “Every day she says she’ll come over. Then she doesn’t.”
Barker looked sympathetic, but he didn’t say anything. He’d never say something bad about anybody.
Friendly nudged Catman, who pretended to tumble down. Then the filly sidled over to Annie and started nursing.
I pictured Sal the day before, giving me her word that she’d be over at 11. “You know,” I said slowly, as the words came back to me, “Sal told me herself that if she didn’t show up today, I could go over and drag her out of bed. I think I’ll take her up on that offer!”
Two minutes later, I was galloping Nickers through the snow. I’d left Barker and Catman in charge of the barn. But the filly was so intent on getting her lunch from Annie that she didn’t even fuss when I sneaked Nickers out.
I could tell Nickers was worried, though. Her muscles tensed, and she snorted with the wind as we crossed the pasture toward the other side of town. We would have made even better time, but a lig
ht snow began to fall, bringing a white fog.
With every thump of Nickers’ hooves, I grew angrier and angrier at Sal. Did she think I didn’t have anything better to do than sit around and wait for her? I was going to the same party she was. I had things to do too. I had a life.
Well, I wasn’t going to let her get away with standing me up again.
By the time Nickers pulled up in front of the little house at the far edge of Ashland, I was fuming. “Stay,” I told Nickers, sliding off her back into the snow.
I knocked harder than I needed to on the old, splintered door.
Nathan opened it. “Winnie? What are you doing here? Is that your horse?”
“Can I come in, Nathan?”
“Sure. Gram isn’t here, though. We’re going to a party across the street. At Slick Hair’s. That’s what Sal calls him. I don’t really want to go.”
I felt sorry for Nathan. He wasn’t a bad kid. “When will your parents be back?” I asked.
The TV was blaring from the living room, which might have been smaller than ours and didn’t have Lizzy to clean it. Nathan turned off the TV, and I followed him in.
“Who knows when my parents will be back? We didn’t even know they were leaving.” He plopped on the striped couch and let the newspapers fall to the floor.
“What do you mean, Nathan?” I sat down with him.
“Well, we never know when Dad comes or goes. Not since he got married again.”
“Your dad got remarried?” I wondered if Hawk knew.
“Yeah. He’s got a little baby even. A boy. He’s pretty cute. I saw him right after he was born, but they wouldn’t let me hold him. Andrew. That’s his name.”
I couldn’t imagine my dad remarrying and moving away and having a baby named Andrew. “What about your mom?”
“I think she thought we were spending Christmas break with Dad. The first day school got out, we went over there for one night. The next day, Dad said they were going to Ellen’s parents’ in Pennsylvania, I think. Sal was still asleep, so Dad said we could go back to Mom’s whenever we wanted to. He even left money for a taxi.”
“So what happened?”
Nathan shrugged. “We took the taxi back, but Mom wasn’t there. Sal said she’d gone off somewhere for a vacation with Beer Belly. That’s what Sal calls him. We stayed there by ourselves for two days until we ran out of food and I called Gram Cracker. Sal was so mad she didn’t speak to me, not even on Christmas Day.”
From the roof came a sound like glass breaking. Sleet . . . or hail.
“I’m sorry, Nathan.” Lizzy would have known exactly what to say, but I didn’t.
We sat there for a minute. “Hey, Nathan. I never got to thank you for talking your grandmother into giving me a chance with Amigo. He’s doing great. You should come over and see him.”
“Okay.”
We were quiet another minute. Then I asked, “Is Sal still asleep?”
“Huh-uh.”
“Is she still in her bedroom?”
“Uh-huh.”
“So will you go get her for me?”
Nathan shook his head hard. “Huh-uh.”
“Nathan! Why not?”
“Too scary. I heard her yelling and went up to see what was wrong. She threw her boot at me.” He pointed to his arm, but I couldn’t see anything. “She got me. See?”
I stood up. “Which room is hers?”
“She doesn’t have a room. She’s in Gram’s. Second door on the left. Good luck. It’s been nice knowing you, Winnie Willis.”
I moved down the hall, flanked on both sides by velvet pictures of kids with hollow eyes. A cigarette smell grew stronger.
Cautiously I knocked on Sal’s door.
Something struck the door from the other side. It sounded like Sal’s other boot.
“Go away!” she shouted.
I shot up a quick prayer because Sal sounded pretty mad.
“Sal, it’s me. Winnie. You said I could drag you out by your hair if you didn’t show up.” I tried a fake laugh, but I’m no Summer. It came out a gurgle.
The door opened, and Sal stuck her head out. Her eyes were as red as her hair, which had two new green streaks. “I forgot,” she said, looking behind me, as if she thought I’d come with a posse.
“It’s not too late,” I said, checking to see if she had anything in her hand that she might throw at me. “We could ride back to the barn now.”
Sal sniffed. She dabbed at her eyes with a shredded Kleenex. “All right.”
All right? Just like that? I’m not sure what I expected, but this wasn’t it.
If I’d been Lizzy, I would have gone inside Sal’s room and said just the right thing that would have made Sal open up and spill out everything that was wrong.
Instead I said, “Let’s go.”
Sal pulled a bright pink ski jacket out of the closet. I’d never seen her wear it, and I suspected it was Gram Cracker’s.
“Nathan,” Sal said at the door, “Gram should be back any minute to go to that party with you. So be ready. You okay here?”
“I’m okay.” To me, he whispered, “Be careful. And watch your back.”
We went outside. Sleet was falling in slanted sheets.
Nickers, glistening wet, did a little rear, then came trotting to me.
“That’s our ride?” Sal asked.
I jumped on first and then showed Sal how to use the front step to climb on behind me.
She’s so tall, it wasn’t hard for her to mount. But once she got on, she gripped so hard around my waist that I could barely breathe.
“Winnie, I’ve never been on a horse before!”
“Never?”
“Never!”
“Then why were you so upset that you couldn’t ride Amigo?” I asked.
“I wasn’t,” she admitted.
Nickers took off toward home at a fast walk. I kept her to a walk until Sal loosened her grip. Then I skipped the trot and urged Nickers into a lope.
“Winnie!” Sal cried.
“Relax, Sal!” I had to shout above the wind that swept across us, pelting us with tiny pieces of ice. My cheeks felt like they were being stuck with tiny pins. “Just go with the motion. Smooth as a rocking chair.”
Sal buried her head in my back, but her grip let up.
I prayed that God would make me more like Lizzy and give me the right words for Sal. After a couple of minutes of silence I blurted out, “Sal, why were you crying? Are you sad about something?”
“Wow!” she said. “You guessed it. I am sad. Winnie, you should be a psychologist.”
Sal can be pretty sarcastic when she wants to be.
After a couple of seconds she said, “I’m sorry, Winnie. It’s just . . . Brian called and broke up with me.”
To be honest, I thought breaking up with a boy seemed about as dumb as going with one. I still didn’t get it, the way girls in my class claimed they were going out with a guy, but they never went anywhere. I could care less myself. But I didn’t say this to Sal. I’m not that dumb.
“Sorry, Sal. He sure acted like he was crazy about you.”
“Brian is a jerk,” she said. “I, Salena Fry, do hereby make the following New Year’s resolution: I will give up men!”
I thought 12 years old was kind of young to give up on men, especially since I hadn’t even started hoping for them yet. But maybe in Sal’s case it wasn’t such a bad idea.
“Good for you!” I said.
“Yeah! Good for me!” she said even louder. “Guys! Who needs them?”
We cantered back through the pastures while ice battered us. Nickers’ steady breathing sounded regular and loud. Sal held on tight, but I heard her laugh behind me.
The Barker Bus was waiting in front of the barn when we rode up. Catman and Barker hadn’t wanted to leave until I got back. I thanked them, and they hurried to the yellow van.
“Catman’s cool,” Sal said after we were alone. “Barker too.”
“Yep.”
“Hey, at least I don’t have to worry about Brian seeing me in this getup,” Sal said, checking herself out in the mirror. It definitely wasn’t her usual look.
When we came into the kitchen, Lizzy had hot chocolate and salamander cookies waiting. We dug in.
“These are the best cookies I’ve ever eaten, Lizzy,” Sal said.
“Geri helped with this batch.” Lizzy elbowed her friend. “She got a really cool salamander for Christmas. Want to see it? She brought it over.”
“I’ll pass,” Sal said, downing another cookie. “Man, Nathan is right. You really are the best baker in town.”
I glanced at Geri to see if she minded. But she kept grinning.
Dad walked in from the workshop. “Did you guys start the party without me?” He wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “Sal, right? How are you?”
Sal looked surprised that Dad remembered her. “Okay. How are you, Mr. Willis?”
“Not bad, as it happens.” Dad pulled a slightly singed golf ball from his pocket. Wires ran all over it. From his other pocket he pulled a tiny black box.
“What is it?” Sal asked.
“Don’t ask,” I whispered.
“Glad you asked!” Dad said. “It’s the chipmunk golf buddy!”
“Doesn’t look much like a chipmunk,” Sal observed.
“Ah . . . but look and listen.”
“Dad, we really better get to the barn and—”
“Go ahead, Mr. Willis,” Sal said, ignoring me. “What’s a chipmunk golf buddy?”
Dad filled Sal in on the history of the golf buddy, through the entire smoking-buddy stage, past the buzzer stage, and ending with the contraption in his hand.
“So you see, I had to have an ordinary sound that wouldn’t disturb the other golfers but would still let the owner of the golf buddy find his ball. Check this out.” Dad set the ball on the table, flipped the switch on the remote, and the ball went chit, chit, chit, chit.
“That sounds just like a chipmunk!” Sal exclaimed. “How did you do that?”
Friendly Foal Page 9
