Speak of the Tiger

by Martha Deeringer

  “I saw Lee over there by the bus,” Casey said, looking down the log to where Lee sat on the far end.

  “We were all on the bus at some time or other,” Justin said. “It’s been hot, and everyone’s water was in there.”

  “I’m sick of all of us getting punished because of that weirdo,” Casey said. “He’s been trouble from the day he arrived.”

  Coach Cox got back on the bus and started the engine. Slowly he pulled it forward, accompanied by the sound of cracking limbs from the bent saplings underneath. Parking in its original place, he got up from the driver’s seat and spent several minutes walking around inside.

  “What’s he doing?” Joel wondered aloud.

  “Maybe he’s picking up the broken glass,” Justin suggested.

  Finally, he stalked toward the row of quiet campers on the log. In his hand he carried a pencil and a small spiral notebook.

  “I’m going to pass this down, and I want everyone who got on the bus this morning after we arrived to write down their name and the reason they were on it.”

  The notebook traveled slowly down the row. Each of the campers wrote in it. When it came to Lee Boyd on the end, he got up and handed it back to Coach Cox without writing anything.

  “I saw you on the bus,” Casey said accusingly. “Everyone did.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Lee said. “I never got on it. I don’t have a canteen, so I didn’t have any reason to get on it.”

  “Except maybe to release the brake,” Casey retorted.

  “I didn’t release the brake,” Lee said. “Did you?”

  Justin realized that he had not seen Lee get on the bus. He had only seen him sit in the shade beside it.

  “We’re late for lunch,” Coach Cox said, “so we’re starting back. When we get there, I want all of you to sit at the back table with me. I’m going to get to the bottom of this.” He bit off each word as though it had a sour taste.

  The group rode back to the main camp in silence. Campers sat toward the front to avoid the shattered glass still lying on the rear seats and floor. Justin sat next to Joel, wondering who might have done such a destructive thing. The knife he had seen this morning on Lee’s bunk was a niggling worry at the back of his mind.

  The other groups were already eating hamburgers when they pulled up next to the pavilion.

  “Get your lunch and sit over there,” Coach Cox said, indicating a table at the back.

  Filing through the line, Justin cringed at the prospect of the lunch conversation.

  “I’m very disappointed in you.” Coach Cox glared angrily at them as they ate their lunches. “That idiotic prank caused a lot of damage. And whoever did it is going to pay for it. I won’t have time to get that window fixed before we start for home tomorrow, so I guess we’ll be riding home with a busted-out back window. One of the brake lights is broken, too.”

  The campers looked at their empty plates or gazed off into the meadow.

  “Coach Cox?” Charlotte said quietly.

  “What?”

  “There’s only one person in this group who’s doing these crazy things. The rest of us want to enjoy this trip. We want you to find out who is doing it so we don’t have to worry about what the next disaster’s going to be.”

  Justin had to admit that his opinion of Charlotte was changing. She had more guts than he thought. Even her whiney voice didn’t seem so irritating anymore. Coach Cox seemed a little taken aback by what she had said. He sat lost in thought for a moment, then got up from the table and headed for the counselors’ cabin.

  “What do you think he’s gonna do?” Casey asked.

  As the other kids contemplated that question, they saw Coach Cox coming back with a handful of paper and some pencils. He passed them out in silence.

  “I want each of you to tell me what you know about this and the toilet paper incident. Somebody here saw something. What you write will remain anonymous; don’t even put your name on the paper. Do it now and then fold the paper in half and give it to me. Then you can get your journal and write in it until time for afternoon activities.”

  Reluctantly, the campers bent their heads over the papers. Most kids covered what they had written with their hands as they wrote. Justin scrawled, “I didn’t see anything” across his paper, folded it, and handed it to Coach Cox. Then he headed for the cabin and lay down on his bunk. The crazy series of events from the last two days whirled through his head. It didn’t make sense that one kid would keep tempting fate over and over when someone was sure to catch him sooner or later. Even Lee Boyd didn’t seem that crazy. And if he was, what was his reason for all the destructiveness?

  Joel came down the path and into the cabin.

  “Mrs. Farr said to get ready for the trail ride. We’re leaving in about fifteen minutes. I hope that idiot doesn’t pull another stupid stunt this afternoon. I’ve about had it with getting in trouble because he hates the whole world.”

  “Do you think Loser Boyd’s responsible for the toilet paper and the bus?” Justin asked.

  “Sure he is. Who else would be that stupid?”

  Justin opened his mouth to tell Joel about the knife. He stopped when he heard footsteps coming down the gravel path. Lee Boyd stalked through the door and went to his bunk. Pulling a duffel bag from under it, he took out a pair of boots and pulled them on. Without a word he left again, leaving the cabin door open behind him.

  “Amazing how he remembered to bring boots, but not a canteen,” Joel said

  Gloom hovered like a thundercloud as Justin and Joel made their way to the pavilion. Of all the activities at the YO Ranch Adventure Camp, the trail ride was the one Justin looked forward to most. But the atmosphere was no longer charged with excitement. Coach Cox and Mrs. Farr were talking quietly at one of the tables when they arrived. Justin felt guilty by association, even though he had nothing to do with any of the weird things that were happening.

  He had been at a convenience store once with a boy who had stolen some candy bars. It had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, and Justin didn’t know the boy was going to do it. He didn’t even know the boy very well. His family had moved to the small acreage near Justin’s house the week before. The clerk had mirrors positioned all over the store so he could see what was going on in every aisle. He confronted them as they headed for the door, took the candy bars, and wrote down their names and telephone numbers. Justin showed the clerk his empty coat pockets, but the clerk already seemed to know that Justin had not taken anything. He never entered that store again without feeling guilty, even though he had done nothing wrong.

  “If you lie down with dogs, you’ll get up with fleas,” Justin’s dad said when he told his parents about the incident. That was his only comment, and it wasn’t the vindication that Justin wanted.

  * * * *

  Mrs. Farr stood up and strolled over to the table where Justin sat with the rest of Coyotes’ Den and Falcons’ Nest. She wore Levis, a sleeveless blouse, and boots, her dark hair tied back with a red scarf.

  “Are you guys ready to ride?” she asked.

  “You mean you’re going with us?” Charlotte asked, delight showing on her face.

  “I sure am. I’ll bet you didn’t know I was a cowgirl in my youth. I’ve even been known to run some barrels.”

  “All right,” Charlotte said, slapping a five on Mrs. Farr.

  “One of the wranglers had to take his wife to the hospital,” Mrs. Farr explained as they walked toward the YO trucks. “They’re having their first baby. The YO is short one adult for this ride, so I’ll be the backup wrangler.”

  Justin was surprised to see Mrs. Farr slide in behind the wheel of one of the pickups.

  “Everybody take a deep seat, I haven’t driven a stick shift in a while.”

  The boys all ran to get in the truck Mrs. Farr was driving. She was a cool teacher, young, and willing to have fun in class. Her friendly attitude made her class popular with the students, but it was a mistake to think she would put up with
a lot of foolishness.

  Gears ground, and the truck lurched backward as everyone clutched the board seats and hung on. The girls from Falcons’ Nest were already heading up the gravel road in the back of the other pickup. Mrs. Farr followed at a distance to let most of the dust blow off the road before driving through it. Her shifting smoothed out as she got the hang of it again. Justin began to feel a tingle of excitement. He and his parents lived on thirty acres a few miles out of town. His dad kept two saddle horses that he used for game patrols and searches when someone got lost in the woods. Justin had ridden most of his life and felt at home on a horse.

  In the summer, when his dad wasn’t using the horses, Justin and Joel often rode bareback through the pasture to a creek that ran along the back of the property. Above the creek was a steep dirt bank. Justin dared Joel once to slide his horse down the bank and into the water. He was astonished when Joel did it and even more astonished that Twister, the older and more sedate of the two horses, was willing to cooperate. Justin’s horse, Camaro, hesitated for a moment, then dropped his head and followed Twister. Camaro’s mane had been clipped so there wasn’t much to hold onto, and Justin had to squeeze hard with his knees to keep from going over Camaro’s head. The water at the bottom was only two feet deep, and Camaro stood in it, pawing the water with his front hoof as though this was a great adventure. Justin knew his dad wouldn’t approve if he had seen them, but Twister and Camaro played in the water like kids on a trip to the beach.

  The YO barn loomed ahead, and the trucks pulled up in the shade of some live oaks. Justin could see horses tied to the fences of two large corrals beside the barn. The wrangler in the first truck got out and headed for one of the corrals, as Mrs. Farr led the way to a tack room filled with dozens of saddles and bridles.

  “Ty said to wait here. He’s going to do a little orientation first,” she said.

  Justin loved the smell of a horse barn. The scent of horses and manure, and sweet hay mingled with leather and neat’s-foot oil, helped to dissipate some of the gloom.

  Ty returned, leading a tall black gelding with the letters YO branded on his left hip.

  “I’m Ty Davis, the head wrangler here at the YO,” he announced, stopping in front of the group of campers. “We have an assistant wrangler who’s off having a baby right now. Well, he’s not actually having it himself, his wife is doing the hard part. Since I knew Mrs. Farr from past years and know she’s a good rider, we decided to go ahead and ride today anyway. This is the horse she’ll be riding. His name is Gato.”

  Ty gave Gato a pat on the neck.

  “Each horse has his name on his halter. The saddles and bridles are all arranged by the name of the horse they fit. When you get your horse, be sure to get the right tack for him. Mrs. Farr is going to give us a saddling demonstration. Watch carefully. You are going to have to saddle your own horse.”

  Mrs. Farr appeared from inside the tack room bearing a saddle and blanket and walked confidently up to Gato.

  “Hey, Fella,” she said, standing the saddle on its horn on the ground. She took a brush from a wooden box heaped with brushes and currycombs. Running the brush along Gato’s back, she sent clouds of dust into the air.

  “It’s really important that you don’t put a saddle on your horse without brushing off all the stickers and caked-on dirt,” she said as she worked her way down Gato’s back and sides and across his hindquarters.

  She moved calmly around the horse, brushing his belly behind his front legs where the cinch would fit. Justin could tell she was an expert by the gentle way her free hand maneuvered the horse into position.

  “Gato and I are old friends,” she continued. “I’ve ridden him for several years now. Gato is the Spanish word for cat. He is kind of a pussycat, too.”

  She showed the campers how to put on the blanket and smooth it out under the saddle. Tossing the saddle expertly onto Gato’s back, she cinched it up. Gato responded by inflating his belly with air.

  “Always tighten your cinch at least twice before you get on. Lots of horses are like Gato. In a few minutes, he’ll let the air out and the cinch will be too loose. If I tried to get on him then, I’d probably end up on the ground.”

  Justin knew the explanation was necessary, but he was anxious to get past the demonstration stage and start working with the horses. It was already almost two o’clock.

  Mounting smoothly, Mrs. Farr explained that horses should always be mounted from the left side.

  “Great demonstration,” Ty said. “Now it’s your turn. Everyone needs to choose a partner so you can help each other out.”

  Justin and Joel were already standing next to each other. It only took a few seconds for most of the campers to pair up. Lee stood aside from the others, looking off into the distance. He was going to be the odd one out. Justin figured nobody in their right mind would choose to partner with him.

  Ty watched the campers pairing up. In a few moments he walked over to Lee.

  “Since we only have eleven people here, I’ll partner with you,” he told Lee.

  “I don’t want a partner,” Lee said.

  Chapter Five

  “Raise your hand if you have never ridden a horse before,” Ty said.

  Brenda and J.R. raised their hands. Ty handed each of them a red plastic chip with something written on it

  “How about people who have just ridden a little? Maybe once or twice.”

  Casey, James, Sarah, and Corrie raised their hands and were given green chips.

  “Experienced riders?” Ty asked.

  Justin and Joel raised their hands. Justin was surprised to see Charlotte’s hand up, too. She didn’t strike him as a horsewoman. All three of them were handed yellow chips. Justin’s had Pesadilla printed on it. Joel’s said Nacho.

  “The chip has the name of your horse on it,” Ty explained. “The halters have the horses’ names on them, too. Take a brush and get your horse cleaned up. Yellow chip horses are in the first corral, red and green in the second.

  Justin grabbed a brush from the box and headed for the first corral. He found Pesadilla tied to the back fence. She was a big, buckskin mare with a broad back and the muscular chest and hindquarters of a quarter horse. Walking around to approach her head, Justin spoke softly to her, and her ears pricked toward him. Joel was already brushing a bay gelding tied right inside the gate. Next to Justin’s buckskin was a medium-sized sorrel mare with a blaze face that moved nervously around on the end of her halter rope as though she was worried about what her rider might look like. Charlotte walked toward her.

  “What are you so nervous about?” she asked the mare. Holding her hand out, she walked to the mare’s head and began to talk softly to her. Soon she was brushing the mare’s neck vigorously. She looked like she knew what she was doing, so Justin focused on cleaning up his own horse. Ty was making his way through the second corral, giving advice and offering a helping hand when needed.

  “When you walk behind him, put your hand on his rump like this,” he explained to Brenda. “That way he always knows where you are even when he can’t see you.”

  “Saddle up!” Ty hollered several minutes later. “Be sure to get the saddle with your horse’s name on it.”

  On his way back to the tack room, Justin passed a tall gray horse he hadn’t noticed before. Lee was brushing its belly while the horse stretched his neck out in obvious enjoyment. Justin was surprised to find Lee in the corral with the experienced riders. He didn’t remember seeing him raise his hand when Ty was passing out the yellow chips.

  The tack room was neat and the saddle blankets fairly clean. Justin found the one labeled Pesadilla and took it down from the saddle rack. A bridle hung from the saddle horn. Slipping his hand through the forks, Justin carried it out to the buckskin. She stood lazing in the sun as though she knew this was going to take a long time and she might as well relax. Justin smoothed the blanket over her withers and swung the saddle up. As he swung, he gave it a boost with his knee, a trick he h
ad learned from his father. In spite of the added lift, he just barely got it high enough to settle across the mare’s broad back. She was taller than Twister or Camaro. She didn’t pay any attention, and it occurred to Justin that this was a daily event for her. He went around to her off side to straighten the cinch and be sure all the saddle strings were hanging down like they were supposed to. When he tightened the cinch, she raised her head in an annoyed fashion, and Justin decided to give her a minute or two before he pulled the latigo tighter.

  Charlotte was having a little trouble getting her mare to stand still, so Justin walked over to help her.

  “She must not like being saddled very much,” Charlotte observed. “Will you stand by her head and hold her still while I throw it on?”

  “Sure,” Justin said, moving to the mare’s head and slipping a hand through her halter. “I’ll throw it up there for you if you want.”

  “No, thanks,” Charlotte said. “I can do it.”

  She ran her hand over the blanket to be sure it was smooth and then picked up the saddle and swung it. The mare stepped away, and the saddle didn’t quite make it to the center of her back, but Justin helped push it up there and straighten it out. He was prepared to give her the benefit of his wise advice on handling horses, but gradually he became aware that she knew exactly what she was doing. Tightening the cinch, Charlotte turned to Justin.

  “Do you need any help with yours?” she asked in what Justin thought was a slightly condescending tone.

  “Mine’s ready to go,” he informed her, walking back to where Pesadilla was dozing.

  Mrs. Farr came into the corral leading Gato by the reins. She closed the gate and stepped gracefully into the saddle. Stopping to talk to Joel, she laughed as he tried to get his gelding to take the bit. When he finally succeeded, Mrs. Farr turned her horse toward Justin.

  “I see you’re riding Pesadilla,” she said. “Did you know her name is Spanish for nightmare? She’s not a nightmare though, but she sure is big. Can you get the bridle on her?”