Stables S.O.S.

by Janet Rising

I froze. Did he really mean what I thought he meant? My mom? Mike-the-bike? The shock subsided. Actually, I thought, I wouldn’t mind that at all. Mom seemed really chilled nowadays, and Mike was easy to get along with. Not like some of my mother’s ex-boyfriends. I shrugged my shoulders. As long as I didn’t have to wear some god-awful peach number and have my hair styled.

  “Aren’t you going to see Carol again?” I asked him, my eyes wide and innocent. Alex gave me a look.

  “She really liked you,” I said, rubbing it in. Alex, always polite, smiled.

  “And I liked her,” he lied. “Now don’t forget you’re welcome to visit any time you and your family are in my neck of the woods. I mean it, Pia, any time!”

  I grinned and nodded, and we hugged, and then Alex got in his car and drove off down the driveway, with me waving after him

  Alex Willard is my friend, I thought to myself. It sounded so weird.

  My cell phone rang. My heart sank as I flipped it open.

  “Pia!” a voice shouted out from it.

  “Hi, Dad!” I replied, hearing Drummer sigh beside me.

  “Just thought I’d let you know that Lyn and I have found the most lovely cottage with a couple of acres a few towns away. We’re putting in an offer, and the great news is that when you come and stay with us, you’ll be able to bring Drummer with you!”

  Is that good? I thought. What did they want a couple of acres for?

  “Lyn’s decided she really wants to live in the country,” Dad went on. “She’s going to get a goat.”

  She gets my goat, I thought, imagining a goat pulling Skinny along, nibbling her laundry on a clothesline, getting into her country kitchen. She’d obviously been watching too many of those “moving to the country” shows on TV. That wouldn’t last, I thought. I’d give it one winter, tops.

  “That’s fabulous, Dad,” I said, hanging up after promising I’d go and stay with them soon and wondering how I could get out of it. I finished grooming Drummer and went for a ride with Bean—carefully avoiding going anywhere near the icehouse.

  “This is blissful,” Bean said, closing her eyes and tilting her face up to catch the warmth of the sun.

  “We’ve saved the stables after all—whaaaa!”

  Tiffany stopped dead in her tracks and snorted at a plastic shopping bag hanging off a branch. Pushing herself back off Tiffany’s neck, Bean recovered her composure.

  “Of course,” Drummer said, “the other, more pressing problem is still with us.”

  I said nothing. When it came to Bambi, we had failed. There was no good way to say it.

  It wasn’t until we got back, and I dismounted in the stable that I remembered the thank-you note. Pulling it out of my pocket, I got everyone’s attention.

  “Alex gave me this,” I said, waving the envelope in the air. “It’s to all of us.”

  “What is it?” asked James, yawning.

  “I’ll read it,” I replied, ripping open the envelope. There it was, the suspected thank-you note. It wasn’t quite how I had imagined it, though.

  “Dear Pia, Katy, Bean, Cat, Dee, and James,” I read out. “Here is a share of the proceeds from the sale of the ring found on Adam Rowe in the icehouse, to the local museum. Over four hundred years old, the ring belonged to one of the original Rowes. It was decided by the powers that be that it should belong to the museum as there are no more Rowes living now, so I want you to have a share of its value to enjoy. I know you will spend it wisely. It was great working with you all—without you I would never have found the Roman mosaic!”

  “Is she still taking the credit for that?” exclaimed Drummer, miffed.

  “I hope you’ll enjoy watching the show when it is aired. Thanks again, love, Jessica.”

  “Oh wow!” exclaimed Dee, “a reward!”

  “How much is it, Pia?” asked Katy.

  “Pah, fifty bucks tops!” snorted James.

  I unfolded the check inside the card. It was made out to Sophie, but with a note stapled to it to say it was to be shared between us all.

  “Oh!” I gasped.

  Five heads all crammed over my shoulders.

  “Is that three zeros?” asked Katy incredulously.

  I nodded, my mouth open in shock. I held in my hand a check for three thousand dollars.

  “Where is everyone?” I asked Katy, propping my bike up against the wall.

  “Dee’s at a show, and the others are riding,” Katy replied. “Me and Bluey are entered for a working hunter class at the Pinewood show tomorrow, which is why I’m giving him a bath. Are you going?”

  “I am actually,” I told her, going to give Bluey a pat on the neck, but changing my mind and stroking his nose instead, because that was a dry part. “I’ve entered Drummer for the riding club pony class, and I thought we’d have a stab at the tack and turnout—and the clear round, of course. I’ll get Drummer in and give him a bath, too.”

  “It’s such a lovely hot day,” Katy said, sticking her thumb on the end of the hose so that it sprayed over Bluey’s legs. Bluey lifted up first one hind leg then the other in response to its iciness. I knew Drummer would go on and on about the temperature of the water, even though it was a hot day. I wondered whether I might lock Epona in my tack box so I wouldn’t have to listen to him going on about it.

  The bay pony in question was waiting by the gate looking fed up when I went to get him in from the field. The new field. It meant only Pippin and Henry would be left out there tearing at the grass.

  No Bambi there, of course.

  When Drummer saw Bluey surrounded by water, he threw up his head and rolled his eyes.

  “Puh-leese tell me I’m not in for all that nonsense!” he said dramatically.

  “Oh, don’t make such a fuss,” I told him, tying him up outside his stable. A pale rectangle with two empty screw holes showed where Bambi’s nameplate used to hang on the stable next door.

  “You want to look nice for the show tomorrow, don’t you?” I asked Drummer.

  “A show? First I’ve heard about it!”

  Ignoring the complaints, I was just working a lather up on Drummer’s mane when I heard a muffled banging noise. We all heard it. Drummer and Bluey turned to look while Katy and I stared at each other in alarm.

  It was coming from Mrs. Collins’s house.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  Katy shrugged her shoulders.

  “There it is again!” I said, as the banging continued and then stopped.

  “It sounds to me,” began Drummer, “that Mrs. C’s house is no longer empty.”

  “Do you think Robert Collins is in there?” I asked Katy.

  She shook her head. “His car’s not here—it can’t be him.”

  “You don’t think…?” I said, walking across the yard to whisper to her.

  “What?”

  “You don’t think it could be Mrs. Collins, do you?”

  “You mean…?”

  “Kicked the bucket and come back to haunt us?” Katy lifted her head in that sensible way she does. “No!” she said decisively. “But I think we ought to investigate, even so.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that, but before I could protest, Katy walked up to the door of the house and knocked purposefully on it. I crept up behind her, not wanting to appear nervous, even though I was. That whole body-in-the-icehouse thing (sorry, bodies, plural) had gotten to me.

  Without warning the door was wrenched open, and both Katy and I took a step back when we saw who it was standing in front of us in her robe and slippers, Twiddles cradled in her arms and Squish by her side.

  She looked real enough.

  “Mrs. Collins, is that really you?” I asked, hardly daring to breathe.

  “Of course it is,” she replied crossly. “Who
else would it be?”

  “It’s just that, well, we thought…” began Katy. She stopped, unsure how to go on.

  “You thought what?”

  “Er, well we thought your son was going to take over running this place,” Katy said, surprised into telling the truth.

  “Humph!” snorted Mrs. Collins, throwing back her head. For one terrible moment I thought she was going to spit. Tiddles narrowed his eyes at us—but because he was in Mrs. Collins’s arms he couldn’t very well do his evil cat act. He had to maintain his cuddly kitty persona. I could see how much it was hurting him. I felt no sympathy.

  “My son,” began Mrs. C, drawing herself up to her full height of at least five feet nothing in her slippered feet, “had some fancy ideas about this place, which he isn’t smart enough to keep to himself! I leave the place for a minute, and when I come back the field’s all dug up like there’s a highway going through it, some TV people are telling me what I can and can’t do on my own land, the National Heritage busybodies are yakking on about me swapping my perfectly good field for another one, and the only good thing to come out of it is some talk of compensation, which I don’t mind admitting, I have a use for. And I’ve lost a pony that I can’t afford—if I’d been in the hospital any longer I dare say I’d have come back to a yard of empty boxes and no rent coming in. Honestly, I can’t turn my back on this place for a second without it all falling apart.”

  “But your son…” began Katy.

  “Enough!” snapped Mrs. C, holding up her hand. “I know all about his scheme, and it’s never going to happen. The only way he’s ever going to get his greedy little hands on this place is when I’m carried out feet first, and that’s not going to be for a long, long time, especially now that I’ve got my pacemaker!” She tapped at her chest and glared at us, her gray hair framing her face like some wild silver halo.

  I glanced at Katy, and she looked back at me. This was music to our ears.

  “Now I’ve got to go,” continued Mrs. C, turning around and shuffling back into the hall. “I’ve got those stair lift people coming to measure and take some of that compensation money off my hands. Make sure the stables are tidy and don’t leave the hose running—there was a huge puddle when I came back last night. I hope that Charlotte girl isn’t washing her hair up here again! I’ve told her about that.”

  “No, Mrs. C!” we said in unison as the front door was shut in our faces.

  “Wow!” breathed Katy. “I don’t think we ought to get her wound up like that again. She might have another heart attack, pacemaker or no pacemaker.”

  “I don’t know why we ever doubted that she would return,” I said. “She’s as tough as old boots.”

  “I bet son Robert got a piece of her mind!” giggled Katy.

  “Phew, I wouldn’t like to have been in his shoes when his mom found out about his scheme,” I said, remembering how I’d imagined Robert Collins intimidating his mother. How wrong was I?

  “You do realize, don’t you,” said Katy, “that there was never any chance of Robert Collins building on the ponies’ field. All that planning, all that disruption, all that…that…angst was for nothing!”

  “Well,” I said, giving her a look, “not quite nothing.”

  Everything was back to normal.

  Almost.

  I looked across the yard in the evening light to gaze at Drummer, my eyes glancing to the adjoining stable where a new brass nameplate successfully covered the mark left by the old one.

  Hearing footsteps, I turned around.

  “Hey there, Pony Whisperer!” said James, grinning at me.

  I grinned back. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

  “I’ve just been around the new field again,” he explained, holding up a couple of lengths of baler twine. “I found these—the farmer used to make hay on that field, and every time I walk around it, I find some more old string.”

  “I’ll help you find some more tomorrow, if you like,” I told him. I wouldn’t mind that, I thought, a chance to spend some time alone with James.

  “Am I ever going out tonight?” called Drummer.

  “OK,” I told him, walking over and leading him out onto the yard.

  “I’ll come with you,” offered James, and the three of us walked past the outdoor school and to the field. James stayed by the gate as I led Drummer inside and took off his halter, offering him a carrot.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled. Then he stopped chewing and looked into my eyes, nuzzling my elbow gently. “And thanks for, well, you know,” he added.

  Smiling, I stroked his nose. It was like velvet.

  “You’re welcome, Drummer. You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” I whispered to him, thinking back to the day I’d thrown my Brookdale sash into the flames. It was worth it after all, I thought. Drummer was my most favorite person in the whole world.

  “Yeah, well, likewise,” my pony replied. “And that’s why I’ve had a word,” he added, walking off to meet up with the object of his desire, asking her whether she’d enjoyed her ride out with Tiffany and Moth earlier.

  “What do you mean?” I called after him, puzzled, but he didn’t explain.

  It had taken about three minutes for everyone to agree what we would all buy with the reward check.

  It had been a unanimous, total no-brainer, and I only fleetingly allowed myself to imagine spending five hundred dollars (the six-way split which Dee calculated immediately on account of her fancy education—we were all counting on our fingers when she put us out of our misery with a derisive snort) on some new tack for Drummer. I knew he would be all for the final, collective decision.

  “It’s great to see them together. They really do adore each other, don’t they?” said James, leaning his elbows on the gate and watching Drummer and Bambi nibble each other’s withers.

  I nodded. Our combined reward money had bought us a skewbald mare for the person who loved her most—apart from Drummer. It had been a good buy.

  “She’s totally yours,” our elected spokesperson Katy had told an overwhelmed Cat. “We all want you to have Bambi. It will be exactly the same as before—you always paid for her keep. Well now she’s yours completely.”

  “Are you sure?” Cat had said, shaking her head in disbelief. Then she had wept a lot and hugged everyone—even me—and couldn’t stop thanking us, and I think everyone had been a bit emotional. Even James had looked choked up but had managed to turn it into a cough. Looking at Drummer and Bambi together now, I knew we had spent the money wisely. Aunt Pam had taken nothing but Bambi’s nameplate to put on her stable at the bottom of her garden—apparently Emily had set her heart on having a Bambi pony, so now she had a stable and a nameplate—perfect pony to come.

  James and I watched Drummer and Bambi wander off into the sunset together. How perfect it all was. I sighed. I could just hear them talking as they walked away from us. I was wrong. Things weren’t so perfect.

  “You’re looking a bit round these days, aren’t you?” I heard Drummer say, looking Bambi over.

  “What are you saying?” Bambi replied huffily, her head rising in indignation.

  “Only that I hope you’re not letting yourself go,” Drummer said.

  “Letting myself GO?” Bambi cried, flattening her ears on to her neck and snaking her head at Drummer in fury.

  “Keep your mane on!” said Drum. “I only said…”

  It was exactly like when my mom had gotten fed up with her new boyfriends. At least that wasn’t happening with Mike-the-bike. Quite the opposite. Don’t tell me the novelty was wearing off between Drummer and Bambi after we’d gone to so much trouble!

  “What are they saying?” asked James, tilting his head as he turned to look at me, his hair flopping over one ear.

  “Oh, nothing,” I lied, my stomach doing a
flip.

  “Do you know, Pia,” James went on, “even if we hadn’t all got that check from Jessica I know we would have saved Bambi for Cat somehow. You were so determined to do it.”

  Uh-oh, I thought. I’m getting credit I don’t deserve again. A change of subject was needed. “Does anyone know where Leanne has moved Mr. Higgins to?” I asked.

  “That snotty Box Meadow Stables where she can concentrate on her horse ballet,” James replied. “Anyway, who cares? She never really made an effort to fit in. I won’t miss her.”

  “I wonder who we’ll get in Mr. Higgins’s old stable?” I said, matching James’s posture as I leaned on the gate and watched the ponies in their new field. I hoped it would be someone nice, and a horse or pony that would get along with the others. And it occurred to me that whoever it was, they would be the newbie—not me. At last!

  “Did you know that Bean’s going out with Declan tomorrow night?” James asked ever so casually, picking at a splinter on the gate.

  “Oh. No, I didn’t,” I said, deciding I’d call Bean later and give her a hard time. She’d kept that quiet!

  “They’re going to see a movie,” James explained, still working intently at the splinter.

  Why hadn’t Bean said anything? I wondered. I’d have thought, after all we’d been through…

  “So, er, Drummer suggested you might like to go, too,” said James.

  “Drummer did?” I asked, puzzled. James was supposed to talk to Moth when he borrowed Epona, not Drummer, I thought. “Well, Drummer’s got that wrong,” I said, frowning. “I’d be a third wheel.”

  “No, you wouldn’t,” James replied, giving me a look, “not if you were with me.”

  My heart started thumping. Surely James could hear it? Surely the whole world could hear it? How stupid was I? What else had Drummer had a word about? I thought, hardly daring to go there. Just how much did James know about my feelings for him? I had a sudden urge to run across the field and tackle my pony.

  “Er, yeah, OK, that would be great,” I said instead, not daring to look at James. There was just one thing…