Diamond Spirit

by Karen Wood

  He’s nice.

  On her way home, Jess wondered what sort of a life Dodger had had. He wasn’t a young horse; his muzzle was grey and his teeth were long. He must be in his twenties. She wondered how many owners he’d had and what other talents he might be hiding. She thought of Black Beauty, in her favourite storybook, and how many different owners he’d been through – some kind, some cruel.

  She gave Dodger a slap on the neck. ‘This is going to be a kind chapter in your life, Dodger, I promise.’

  17

  WHEN JESS TURNED UP at Rosie and Grace’s place for the first time, she wondered if she had the right place. She’d expected a well-tended stud farm, but the Arnold house was surrounded by junk. There were crooked piles of old bricks, tangled steel, old engines and slabs of timber, all cluttered along the muddy, potholed driveway. There was just enough room for a vehicle to grind its way through.

  Among the debris, an assortment of horses chewed on their morning feed. She recognised Buster, who stood out from the rest in a clean blue rug and a clean blue halter, eating out of a clean blue feed bin.

  Fat red chooks waddled between the horses’ legs, pecking at the morsels of grain that fell from their mouths. As Jess rode up the driveway, the sour-sweet smells of manure in mud and hot, moist lucerne hung heavily in the still air. It was a smell that, before the rain, would have been quite delicious. But now, only hours later, it had a slightly decomposing edge that didn’t travel up the nostrils quite so smoothly.

  There was a sudden frenzy of squawking and barking as a black kelpie chased a chook across the front yard. A woman brandishing a stick marched after them in old gumboots, wearing jeans and a baseball cap with black hair sticking out in all directions from under it. She was Grace and Rosie’s mum – Mrs Arnold. Jess recognised her from gymkhanas. She had the Blake nose. She was Harry’s sister; Lawson’s aunt.

  Jess sat there on her horse, feeling awkward, as Mrs Arnold caught up with the dog and unleashed a string of colourful expletives. The dog spat out a mouthful of red feathers and darted off under an old tractor with its tail between its legs.

  ‘Stanley!’ Mrs Arnold shrieked. ‘Come and get this mongrel dog of yours before I shoot it!’

  Yep, they’re related all right – gun freaks the lot of them!

  Mr Arnold, who Jess had also seen at gymkhanas, walked onto the verandah, leaving the front door to bang behind him. He grumbled something and pulled on some Cuban-heeled boots.

  Rosie and Grace appeared from under the house in oilskin jackets, each carrying a saddle.

  ‘Mum’s in a bad mood,’ whispered Rosie to Jess.

  ‘Yeah, let’s get out of here,’ said Grace.

  Jess rode beside the girls as they walked down a dirt track that led to a large paddock by the river flats. ‘Where are Tom and Luke?’ she asked.

  ‘Luke’s saddling up Muscles, our stallion. Dad said he could ride him. Tom’s riding along the river flats. They’ll meet us down the paddock.’ Grace glanced back over her shoulder and said, ‘Poor Dad.’ Then she changed the subject. ‘We taught Handbrake to steer without any reins. I’ll show you when I catch her.’

  ‘Which one is Handbrake?’ Jess asked. She couldn’t keep up with all the different horses Grace rode.

  ‘She’s the bay filly we got from the saleyards. Dad called her Handbrake because she’s so lazy. He wants me to draft her and sell her on as a kids’ horse.’

  As they walked down to a big grazing paddock, horses and cattle were scattered about the flats. The air smelt much better down there among the trees and pasture.

  Grace went off in search of Handbrake, while Buster nudged a carrot out of Rosie’s hand. As the girls readied their horses, a long, sharp whistle sounded behind them. Jess turned to see Luke riding Muscles, who whinnied and grunted to the mares. The disgraced chicken-killer trotted along behind.

  The stallion was a deep liver colour that changed whenever the sun caught him at a different angle. One minute he looked chocolate brown and the next he was golden, or copper, or red. Jess had never seen such a coat.

  She gazed over the mix of cattle. They were all shapes and sizes, from big old Friesians to runty black heifers and brindled Brahmans. ‘Are they the ones we’re going to practise on?’

  ‘Well, technically, yes,’ said Rosie. She gave Jess a cheeky smile. ‘But we gotta go get our bull out of the neighbour’s paddock first and that might involve a bit of, er, reshuffling of some cattle.’ She lowered her voice to a whisper and moved closer to Jess. ‘Why stir up our cattle when we can stir up the neighbour’s, hey?’

  ‘Napoleon keeps jumping the fence,’ said Grace. ‘He’s in Mr Donaldson’s paddocks again. The old fella will have a stroke if he finds him in there again.’

  ‘It’ll be good practice for you to draft him out, Jess,’ said Rosie.

  ‘Hey, look, here comes Tom!’ said Luke. He put his fingers to his mouth and let out another whistle. Tom waved as he cantered up on a jet-black colt.

  The group headed down along the river flats towards a gate that separated the over-grazed Arnold property from the noticeably lusher pasture of Mr Donaldson’s. A neat herd of plump red and white Herefords grazed alongside a huge white bull.

  ‘Lucky Mr Donaldson has gone into town for a few weeks, so he won’t know Napoleon got in again,’ Rosie said, swinging the gate open. ‘He spends a fortune on Hereford semen. He totally freaks if he finds our Brahman bull in here.’

  ‘Dad reckons we should charge old Donaldson stud fees for using our bull like that,’ said Grace giggled. ‘All those quality Brafords he gets each year.’

  ‘So, we’re only down here to get the bull back in, aren’t we?’ said Luke.

  ‘Yes, of course we are,’ said Rosie, nudging Buster into a trot. ‘We just have to move the other cattle a bit so we can get to him.’

  The group spread out around the animals, quietly bringing them to a closely packed mob at the end of the paddock. While the girls held them in a group, Luke singled out one beast, moved it away and began to work it, making it look easy. Then Grace and Rosie had a go. Jess was amazed at how quick and agile such big, clumpy beasts could be.

  ‘Your turn,’ said Grace, pulling up her mare and giving her a pat.

  Jess eyed the mob that Luke and Rosie held in the corner of the paddock. Dodger stepped up his pace and pricked his ears when he realised they were headed for the cattle. He felt like a coiled spring beneath her, bouncing from one leg to another. She held him steady.

  ‘Find one with a doe eye,’ said Luke. ‘One that looks a bit quiet.’

  Jess looked at the twenty or so cattle. They all looked the same to her: scatty and nervous. Then she spied a small steer with what she thought might be a placid expression. She slipped Dodger between it and the mob as she had seen Luke do, and to her delight it moved away. But it just as quickly ducked under Dodger’s neck and scuttled back to the mob. She chased it too late and scattered the cattle in all directions. She tried again, only to have the same thing happen.

  Luke rode over to her. ‘Keep the horse’s shoulder to the beast and rein him back one step before you turn him. That’ll sit him on his hindquarters and he’ll spin better.’

  ‘Okay.’

  She set off towards the mob to try again.

  ‘Pick Napoleon this time,’ Luke called out.

  Jess looked at the huge grey bull. He was twice the size of Dodger and had two seriously pointy horns jutting out of his head. From his chest came a deep, rumbling bellow.

  He had to be kidding!

  She looked back at Luke, expecting to see a grin, but he just shrugged. ‘We have to get him sometime. See if you can bring him back to the gate.’

  Jess approached Napoleon, unable to take her eyes off his deadly-looking horns. To her relief, he swished his tail and walked in the other direction. She placed herself between the bull and the others. As he tried to return to the mob, she reined Dodger back onto his hind leg and to her complete surprise he spun effo
rtlessly to block Napoleon.

  Napoleon moseyed back and forth a few times in a half-hearted fashion, pointing his enormous horns directly at her, but Dodger danced in tandem and forced him back each time.

  Cool fun! I am queen of the cattle yard!

  ‘Bring him to the gate,’ yelled Rosie.

  Jess directed the bull towards the gate and to her delight he did as he was told, walking obediently away from the herd. Her confidence soared. She couldn’t wait to have a go at something a bit faster.

  They spent the afternoon cantering around after the cattle, and Jess steadily got the hang of things.

  ‘Get up on its shoulder!’ Grace yelled out. ‘Stay clear of its hind legs. Push it around!’

  ‘Hah!’ Jess yelled. She held the reins up Dodger’s neck, urging him on faster as he galloped up onto a steer’s shoulder. With ears flat back, her horse leaned heavily into the beast and physically shoved it around a makeshift peg.

  When Jess finally pulled up, her cheeks were flushed bright red and her smile was huge. She loosened the reins and walked the puffing horse to the sidelines. She had never felt so exhilarated. Dodger was an absolute genius on cattle.

  ‘He’s a great horse,’ said Luke, riding alongside her. ‘You’re gonna do all right at that draft, I reckon.’

  ‘Thanks!’ said Jess.

  He held her gaze for a moment, then grinned and looked away.

  Grace rode up next to Jess and reached over to pat Dodger on the neck. ‘What a good boy! You could teach Handbrake here a few lessons, couldn’t you?’ She gave her own horse a pat. ‘I think it’s the breeding paddock for you, girlie.’

  Handbrake raised her head suddenly, stared towards the river and let out a long whinny. They all followed her stare and saw two helmets bobbing through the trees. A white horse glistened in the sun and Jess could see the motion of a crop on the other horse’s rump, tap, tap with every stride.

  ‘I can’t stand those girls,’ said Grace.

  ‘You hate everyone,’ said Rosie.

  ‘They’ll dob on us for sure,’ said Jess.

  ‘It’ll be okay,’ said Rosie. ‘We were just getting our bull back. I’ll explain everything to Dad and he’ll talk to Mr Donaldson. It’ll be fine, you’ll see.’

  Jess rode home that evening feeling hopeful and determined. She was determined to win that money and save Walkabout from a dreadful future. She leaned forward to give Dodger a pat. What good luck he’d turned out to be.

  Her father was waiting, arms folded, as she turned Dodger into the driveway. ‘Do you mind telling me where you’ve been riding today, Jess?’

  ‘We’ve been practising drafting, Dad. Dodger is going so well. Everyone’s really impressed with him.’ Jess gave the horse a slap on the neck. ‘Aren’t they, old boy?’

  ‘So Mr Donaldson tells me,’ said Craig, a thunderous look on his face. ‘He just rang all the way from the city to tell me you’ve been stirring up his prize Herefords.’

  Jess pulled Dodger to a halt and jumped out of the saddle.

  ‘Mr Arnold’s bull got into his paddock and we had to get it out. We just had a bit of a play with the steers, but we didn’t go near the breeding stock,’ she explained.

  ‘Well, Mr Donaldson tells me you were chasing the breeding stock,’ said Craig.

  ‘What? That’s not true! Who told him that?’ she said, knowing full well who had.

  That pair of poo-magnets.

  ‘It doesn’t matter who told him. You shouldn’t have been in his paddocks,’ said Craig. ‘How would you like someone coming into your paddock and chasing your horse around while you weren’t home? You’d be livid. It’s trespassing. It’s wrong.’

  ‘But we were getting Mr Arnold’s bull out of there. He asked us to,’ argued Jess.

  That didn’t seem to placate her father one bit.

  ‘Who is this Mr Arnold? Isn’t he the one who is supposed to be taking you all the way to Longwood for a horse show?’ said Craig, his voice getting louder. ‘What sort of responsible adult is he?’

  ‘He is responsible, Dad. Rosie said he will talk to Mr Donaldson and explain. He’ll be grateful that we got the bull out.’

  ‘I spoke to Mr Donaldson and he wasn’t grateful at all. He was very annoyed.’

  ‘Only because those two evil witches lied and said we were chasing the breeding stock. Mr Arnold—’

  Craig cut her off. ‘Mr Arnold should have spoken to Mr Donaldson before he sent you down there to chase those cattle. I don’t know about you going off to Longwood with these people, Jessica. I don’t like you going off for miles with people we hardly know, and besides, you’ve already got a horse. Now put Dodger away and get your tail up to the house.’

  Jess was horrified. ‘But I have to go to Longwood, so I can buy Wally,’ she said, running after her father and leading Dodger behind her. ‘Dad, Mr Arnold is going to talk to Mr Donaldson. It’ll all get sorted out, you’ll see. Katrina and Tegan are just trying to get us in trouble.’

  ‘Just because a person seems nice doesn’t mean they’re responsible,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard some pretty crazy stories about those Arnolds, Jess, and they don’t sound like the sort of people you’d want to pin your hopes and dreams on. Apparently the wife is a total eccentric.’

  ‘She’s not coming.’

  Craig shook his head. ‘I don’t know, Jess. I’m concerned about this whole new scene you’ve become involved in. I barely see you these days. Your mother and I will have to think about it. Meanwhile, you’re not to ride until you’ve apologised to Mr Donaldson.’ He began to walk up the front steps.

  ‘But he’s away in the city!’

  ‘Well, you’ll just have to wait until he comes back. You’ll be starting school on Monday, which is a lot more important than riding horses and chasing people’s cattle. I think you should be focusing on that, don’t you?’

  ‘But it’s the last few days of the holidays!’

  ‘Today is Thursday. It won’t kill you to spend three days at home, Jessica,’ said Craig, walking through the doorway.

  ‘Da-a-ad! Can’t I even go over to Harry’s?’ Jess called out after him.

  ‘No!’ he yelled back.

  18

  ‘CAN’T I GO and see Walkabout this afternoon?’ Jess whined. She had been trying on uniforms, picking up books, sorting out her old wardrobe and spring-cleaning her room. She hadn’t ridden Dodger or seen her new friends for three days, and it was sending her crazy.

  ‘No, darling, your father has grounded you until you apologise to Mr Donaldson,’ her mother answered.

  ‘But that is so unfair!’ cried Jess. ‘Katrina and Tegan made up a pack of lies. As soon as Mr Donaldson gets back and Mr Arnold talks to him, you’ll understand, and I’ll have been grounded for nothing.’

  ‘You have not been grounded for nothing,’ said Caroline firmly. ‘You were chasing his cattle without permission. Breeding stock or no breeding stock, you were trespassing.’

  ‘Why can’t I just apologise over the phone? What if Mr Donaldson decides not to come back from the city this weekend?’

  ‘Jessica, you are to apologise in person. That is the decent thing to do.’

  Jess sulked. ‘Am I at least allowed to exercise Dodger on a lunge rope? He’ll lose all his fitness otherwise.’

  ‘In one week?’

  ‘Yes, it’s only six weeks until the campdraft and he’s badly out of shape. I need all the time I can get or he won’t be fit enough. And what about me? I can’t afford to lose a whole week of training, Mum.’

  ‘Oh, okay. You can lunge him, but don’t you dare get on him,’ said Caroline.

  Jess breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thanks, Mum.’

  She grabbed a drink and went and sat by the old coachwood tree to speak to Diamond. ‘Dodger is going to help save Walkabout, Dimey, so it is very important that we look after him,’ she explained to the patch of mulga seedlings. ‘So, I might have to let him stay in your stable.’ She knew Diamond would underst
and. Actually, since getting to know Dodger, Jess had become sure that the two horses would have been quite good friends.

  After clearing it with Diamond, she decided to freshen up the lean-to for Dodger. First, she hauled out the old straw and spread it around the veggie patch. Then she pulled out three new bales of straw and fluffed them around. When the stall was perfect, she set about cleaning up the old stock saddle that Harry had lent her. She went over all the stitching with a toothbrush, polished the brass buckles and rubbed its fenders down with glycerine soap. Then, when she had removed the teeniest speck of dirt and grime, she went over it with leather dressing until it was flopsy and supple.

  She took Dodger out into the big paddock on a long lunge rope and he trotted and cantered around her, grateful for the company. He soon picked up on her voice commands and she found she could send him over logs and other small jumps. He jumped off the old loading ramp and ran up and down gullies.

  When she brought him back to the yard, she spent hours grooming him, giggling at how he waggled his top lip when she rubbed at an itchy spot. He followed her around the yard nibbling at her back pockets while she filled water buckets and picked up poo. One morning when she went down to his stall early, she found him lying down with his legs curled under him and she knelt down next to him and scratched behind his ears. He closed his eyes again and after a few minutes began to snore. Jess had never heard a horse snore before and Dodger woke with a start when she burst out laughing.

  But as Monday got closer, no amount of time with Dodger could distract her from thinking about Shara. Would she be there at school, or would she be starting at Canningdale College?

  Despite being forewarned, Jess was stunned to find there was no Shara. She had been accepted into the selective high school.

  Jess was flattened. Everyone at school but her seemed to already know. Katrina Pettilow told her, in a smirky voice, and called her Nigel-no-mates. Jess wanted to slap her. Twice. Once for the nasty name and a second time for being a dobber. She wished she could go to Rosie and Grace’s school in the neighbouring district. There were heaps more horsey girls in that school. Most of the girls in Jess’s class were surfers or emos, except for Katrina and Tegan. She found it hard to talk to them, even though most of them were friendly enough.