Calico Horses and the Patchwork Trail (9 page)

Carrie clomped noisily up the front steps, carrying her overloaded navy blue duffle bag and orange backpack. The backpack held all of her personal items that even her mom wasn’t allowed to touch, like old birthday cards, photos, a few toys, some books, her shell collection, and her most prized possession of all—her journal. She followed her mother’s voice and made her way down a hallway lined in photographs of animals she’d never seen before. She stopped to look at a photo of a baby mountain lion. The frame was made of rough wood and a small square of fabric was dangling from a corner. She lifted the fabric and looked closely. It was a square of green cloth with tiny pink flowers. Carrie’s face burned in embarrassment, as she knew her mom must have told Sam about her dreams. She didn’t think this was such a funny joke and she put the swatch of fabric back on the photo frame, pretending to ignore it, and quickly found her way to a bungalow that was connected to the rear of the B&B.

Carrie saw her mom and Sam out back through a screened door. They were standing in a patio decorated with outdoor furniture and lined with big pots of thorny plants. She looked around and noticed the wooden floors, a fireplace, and a large coffee table where her mom had piled some boxes. This must be the living room, she thought, seeing the sofa, with its matching easy chair and large TV tucked into a corner hutch. “But where’s my room?” she wondered, plopping the heavy duffle bag onto the couch and heading toward the rear of the bungalow. The long hallway led to a tidy, small bedroom that was bright and sunny. The walls were fashioned with wooden planks the color of amber, dotted with large brown knots. The windows looked out toward the mountains and were trimmed with curtains made of strings woven together forming a type of pattern that reminded Carrie of a basket. Over the bed there was a large painting of a sparkling blue lake with a few deer drinking water along the shoreline. A hint of a bird was painted into the powder-blue sky and way off in the distance the wispy lavender and pink mountains looked almost magical. Carrie stared at the scene, wishing she were an artist. She slowly walked around the room, growing more curious of her new surroundings. A built-in bookcase held a few shelves filled with a collection of ceramic horses that must have belonged to Sam. She picked up one of the horses and examined it carefully. It was a galloping white horse with black-and-brown spots and a flying mane looking over its shoulder. She returned the statue to its place and began studying the collection one by one. They were about six inches tall and each figurine was painted in a realistic style, capturing their action. There were galloping mustangs, rearing stallions, a few bucking broncos, mares quietly grazing, and one mother with her newborn foal. Carrie loved looking at the tiny knick-knacks. They reminded her of her Aunt Lucy’s collection of stained glass lighthouses hanging on the kitchen window with tiny suction cups. She turned from the ceramic horses and looked around the room at the furniture.

The bed seemed larger than hers back home. She was about to lie down to test out the mattress when she noticed her mother’s suitcase on top of the bed. Ugh, I just want to find my own space, she thought, picking up her backpack.

She meandered through the bungalow and peeked into a room that looked like half a kitchen. It was a tiny room with a refrigerator and oven that looked like it was, well, how could she even describe it? Everything looked miniature in comparison to their home in New Jersey and she wondered how her mom would ever get used to it. It felt like it was a room for elves, she thought, opening the door of the little fridge. She giggled, as she really liked this room with its tiny cupboards filled with a few plates next to the table just for two. She opened a squeaky door that led out into a small area that had a bench and a few coat hooks. She returned through the hallway in search of her room but only found a bathroom. Huh? she thought. Where’s my room? Now she began to look around more carefully. Is this a sofa bed? she wondered, eying the couch suspiciously. Great, I bet I don’t even have a room. She slumped down into the easy chair and thought back to the home where she used to live, with its swing set and tree fort and neighborhood sidewalks where she skated with Shannon. She thought of her room and her desk where she kept all of her private items and the bed she had slept in since she was a small child. She thought of the dolls she had given away to one of the neighbors as they were packing and how she wished she had kept just a few, just for old time’s sake. She wiped away the tears that were starting to cloud over her eyes. Oh, how she wished she were back with Shannon, enjoying this time off from school instead of sitting here in this place her mom wanted to call home. But it really wouldn’t fix anything. Mom and Dad were always fighting and I kept pretending it would all get better. It’s not fair, she thought for the hundredth time. It’s not right, any of it. They never even asked me what I wanted. How could her parents have done this to her? Why now—when everything was going fine in her life. She and Shannon were old enough to join the swim team and pretty soon they would be able to get jobs babysitting in the neighborhood. There were so many plans that the two girls had talked about and now they were hundreds of miles apart. She knew it was useless to let her mind stray over shattered dreams, but that’s where she ended up every time she thought of home—her real home, the only place that would ever be home, not this place with its pint-sized kitchen and living room sofa bed. Adults, she thought, shaking her head. They make all the rules and nobody bothers to listen to us kids, and now I’m stuck in a strange place in the middle of nowhere without my own room, while my mom gets to hang out with her best friend. This was not what she had expected at all.

Brenda and Sam came in through the back door. “Mom,” Carrie said, “where’s…”

“Heads up,” interrupted Sam, pointing out the window to the jeep pulling into the lot. “I think your dog’s here!”

Chapter 18

Milla Spencer knew that some kids were just plain hard to like. Adults thought that just because you were both the same age somehow you were supposed to become instant friends. Maybe that’s how it was in grownup land, thought Milla—you meet someone your age and instantly liked him or her—but that’s not how it works in a kid’s world. She checked herself in the mirror as they pulled into the place where they were supposed to meet Flannel’s owners. Her hair was kinda sticking up in the back and she looked around for her hat. Flannel was anxious to get out of the jeep and was whining as she pushed her nose against the window. So much for the hat, thought Milla, as she realized she must have forgotten it. She looked at her outfit, remembering how many times she had changed—wanting to look cool in the eyes of the new kid.

Her dad grabbed a bag of stuff that arrived with Flannel the day his friend Alan had asked him to babysit the pet. Milla packed it before they left and was careful not to forget the toys, dog treats, brushes, or feeding dish. The last thing she wanted was to be totally embarrassed and stupid in the eyes of the new girl. Milla made sure Flannel’s collar was tightly clipped to the leash and opened the door. Just then a girl came running out of the B&B and leaped off the porch as the collie whirled in excitement. She hugged the dog and Milla felt awkward holding the leash as the crying girl whispered something into Flannel’s ear.

“Hi,” Devon said to the girl. “Your dog sure is happy to see
you
.” Milla rolled her eyes beneath her sunglasses, shooting her dad a look of “Ya think?” Geez, her dad could be so un-cool at times, and she was really hoping he wouldn’t embarrass her. Two women came down the steps and introduced themselves to Milla and her father.

“I’m Brenda Anderson and this is my daughter, Carrie,” one woman said, pointing to the girl who was hugging the dog tightly.

“I’m Sam Fox,” said the other woman. “We spoke on the phone a few times. Thanks so much for helping out with the dog. I hope she wasn’t too much trouble.”

Milla’s dad shook hands with each of the women. “Devon Spencer. Nice to meet you. This is my daughter, Milla. She did most of the helping out with your pup,” he said, pointing over to Milla, who stood as close to the jeep as possible, letting Flannel’s leash fall to the ground.

“Thanks so much, Milla,” Brenda said. “This is my daughter, Carrie.” Carrie was ignoring everyone and just stayed on the ground petting her dog.

“You’re welcome,” mumbled Milla, wishing she were anywhere but here.

“Carrie,” Brenda said. “Don’t you have anything to say to this kind girl who has been looking after Flannel?” The girl rose to her feet and untied the red paisley handkerchief that was knotted around Flannel’s white fluffy mane. She stepped toward Milla and handed it to her. Milla stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

“Thanks for watching my dog and all,” she said, “but Flannel doesn’t wear these things.” The adults moved indoors and the two girls stood there eyeing each other up.

“What are you talking about?” asked Milla. “Flannel has been wearing this since she got here.”

Carrie shook her head. “I don’t know why she was wearing it, but I’ve never seen it before and it doesn’t belong on her.”

Carrie turned and walked away with Flannel toward a yard that faced the side of the B&B. What a brat! thought Milla, climbing into the jeep and slamming the door shut. She realized that her dad’s friend, Alan, must have stuck the red scarf on the dog. She felt like throwing the handkerchief on the ground but she just tossed it into the back seat.

Carrie was leaning over talking to Flannel and Milla pretended not to care. She turned on the radio and leaned back in the front seat, hooking one leg out of the jeep’s window. She was about to pick up her sketchpad to try and zone out from this horrible place when she saw Carrie do something amazing. She unclipped Flannel’s leash and waved her hand and the dog snapped into action, sitting obediently by her side. Milla, now curious, pulled herself up in her seat. Carrie began walking and Flannel moved forward, matching step for step, staying close to the girl’s side. Carrie halted and the dog quickly sat down and waiting attentively for the next command. The girl turned completely in the opposite direction and the dog ran around her legs and sat at her right side. Milla’s mouth fell open as she watched Carrie and her dog moving together as if they were a team. How is she doing this? thought Milla. Then Carrie waved her hand across the dog’s nose and walked about six feet away, as the collie sat frozen in her place.

Unreal, thought Milla. She got out of the car and leaned against the jeep, watching to see what came next. Carrie seemed to be waiting a bit. She put her hands in her pocket and just stood there looking at her pet, which was sitting with eyes fixed, not moving a muscle. Then Carrie raised her arm, palm facing down, and made a swift motion toward the ground. Flannel lay down with her ears perked up, waiting for the next signal. Milla thought back to all the days she had cared for the collie and wished she had known about these cool tricks. Carrie moved her hand up with her palm toward the sky and the dog sat up. With a sweeping hand toward her chest, she asked the collie to come. Flannel immediately raced forward to sit facing her master and was rewarded with a pat on the head. The final command was a quick hand movement that sent the dog looping behind Carrie’s legs to sit at her right side. And then Milla saw something that just made her heart melt.

“Play time, Flannel. Play time, girl!” Carrie said, clapping her hands. This was the collie’s cue to race around the yard and play. The dog crouched down on her forelegs, wagging her tail, barking loudly—and then she leaped into the air and did a flip. Round and round Flannel darted until finally racing toward Milla. She dashed through Milla’s legs, almost knocking her over. Milla laughed and Carrie smiled at her.

“How did you do that?” asked Milla, pointing to the patch of lawn used in the obedience lesson.

“It takes lots of practice,” said Carrie. “I wasn’t really sure she would remember her schooling.”

“Did you train her all by yourself?” Milla asked, clearly impressed by all she had witnessed.

“No,” said Carrie. “My dad and I took her to a place where they teach dogs obedience.”

“Cool,” said Milla. “I’ve never seen a trained dog before. So are you and your parents living here now?” asked Milla.

Carrie’s smile faded and she looked away. “I gotta go now,” she said. “Thanks for watching my dog.”

Wait, thought Milla, don’t go. We were just getting to…. She watched as Carrie and Flannel went up the front porch and disappeared through the front door. She felt so confused. Watching the amazing lesson made her admire the girl, but she couldn’t help feeling that Carrie didn’t really want to get to know her. She walked back to the jeep and slumped into the front seat. New kids—ugh, they’re all alike, she thought, telling herself it wasn’t worth her time. Too bad, thought Milla, remembering Carrie’s smile as she ran and played with the collie. I’ve met lots of kids in my school, thought the fourth grader, but never anyone like Carrie Anderson. Milla picked up the red paisley scarf and tied it to her backpack. Well, this was odd—liking this new kid was something she hadn’t really planned on. Yep, she said to herself…this new kid’s pretty special and I think if she gave me a chance, she’d see I’m not so bad, either.

Chapter 19

Shannon loved going to the beach, especially when she was allowed to invite a friend. One of her mother’s co-workers had kids almost the same ages as Shannon and her little brother and today they were meeting at a beach in Ocean City. She was all packed and ready to go, but—as usual—she was still waiting for her mom and Brian. What could possibly take so long, she wondered? You put on your bathing suit, grab a towel and sunscreen, and maybe a few bottles of water…let’s go already. “Mo-om, aren’t you ready yet?” she whined.