Carole (16 page)
Authors: Bonnie Bryant
I gave Stevie a surprised glance at her mention of the mime troupe, wondering if maybe she’d had a dream that she hadn’t told me about. But then I turned back to Lisa. “Or at least want to be in a lot more plays,” I said with a shrug.
Lisa looked a little overwhelmed. “That does it,” she said. “I’m going to give up the part.”
“What?” Stevie and I cried in unison.
“I’m dropping out of the play,” Lisa said.
“But what about all the people counting on you to play Annie?” I asked.
“They’ll find someone else,” Lisa replied eagerly. “I don’t want to let you and Max and Mrs. Reg and Prancer down. Besides, my true loyalty is to The Saddle Club and riding, and dropping out will prove it.”
“True loyalty? But this isn’t a
life
choice,” Stevie reminded her. “It’s just to help you get through the next two weeks.”
“Yeah, and what about all those lines you memorized?” I added. Now that I knew Lisa wasn’t planning to ditch riding for a life on the stage, it suddenly seemed kind of, well,
wrong
for her to just give up on
Annie
.
“But I’d be able to memorize my dressage tests instead,” Lisa said, though she didn’t sound quite as eager this time.
“But this is your big chance!” Stevie cried.
“It’s Prancer’s big chance, too—to prove she can do dressage,” Lisa said.
“She’ll have other chances,” I told her.
“And how do you know you’ll get another lead role? Actors can wait years for this kind of thing!” Stevie exclaimed.
Lisa laughed, seeming surprised at our reaction. “Is this The Saddle Club talking?” she asked. “Because it sounds like the Willow Creek Community Theater.”
Stevie waggled her finger in Lisa’s face, looking stern. “You’ve got a part to play, missy, and don’t you forget it.”
“What happened to ‘The show must go on’ and all that?” I asked.
“All right! All right!” Lisa practically shouted. “You win! I’ll play Annie!”
We all started talking excitedly about coming to see her in the play and stuff like that. I could tell that Lisa was kind of upset about not being able to take part in the dressage rally, but I suspected she was kind of relieved, too.
“I guess I can still help out with the rally behind the scenes,” she commented at one point.
I nodded. Then I did a double take.
Stevie was obviously thinking the same thing I was. “Behind
the scenes?
Behind the scenes?
How can we be such idiots?” she cried.
“You’re telling me!” I agreed.
Lisa looked pretty confused, but we knew she had to get to her rehearsal. So we promised to fill her in later, after the rehearsal was over.
It was worth the wait, too. Lisa was thrilled when we explained how our team desperately needed a stable manager for the rally. She immediately agreed to take on the job.
“This really is the perfect solution,” Lisa told us happily. “I have
some
time to devote to the rally—I just can’t be responsible for getting Prancer ready.”
“And even though you’re not riding, you’re still making a huge contribution to the team,” I pointed out.
Lisa started making notes about equipment and schedules even before we finished that conversation. So now here we are, the night before the rally, and everything is beautifully organized, Lisa Atwood-style! Plus, now Lisa says she learned a valuable lesson from what she went through last week: When you try too hard to do
everything
, you end up not enjoying
anything!
Oh, and I almost forgot—getting Lisa to be our manager wasn’t the only change of plans we’ve had getting ready for the rally. In our lesson this Tuesday, Stevie and I were practicing together while Max was across the ring working with Polly. I watched Stevie run through all the transitions in her test, impressed as always by how clean and professional Topside was.
“Better and better,” I commented appreciatively when they finished.
“Thanks,” Stevie said, pulling Topside up beside Starlight. “But I’m not sure if we
are
better and better. Most of the time I feel like we’re always the same.”
“Okay, you’re always the same, and that’s always good,” I agreed. “The judges will love him.”
“Exactly,” she said grimly. “They’ll love him, and he deserves all the praise he gets.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. You look great, too,” I added hastily.
“Sorry,” Stevie said. “I really wasn’t fishing for compliments. It’s just that I can’t stop thinking that no matter how great a score I get on Saturday, Topside will be the reason. We might get a blue ribbon; we might not. It hardly matters. If we do, it won’t be a big deal anyway. Topside will have earned it, but he’s gotten blue ribbons at international competitions. What would it mean to get one at a little Pony Club rally?”
“It would mean—” I started automatically. But then I paused, really thinking about what Stevie had said. I wasn’t sure how to answer her. I’d never had her problem. I’d never gone into a show
expecting
to get a blue ribbon. And whenever Starlight and I did well, I knew it was because we had both worked hard.
“It’s hard to answer, isn’t it?” Stevie said. “The whole point of Pony Club is to learn. But I’m not learning anything. On Topside I’m just sitting back and enjoying the ride.”
“Are you saying that you want more of a challenge?” I asked. That sounded like Stevie.
She nodded, a slow grin creeping across her face. “I’ve decided to ride Prancer at the rally if it’s all right with Max.”
I clapped my hands excitedly, knowing immediately that it was another perfect solution. “That’s a great idea! It’ll be wonderful for you
and
Prancer. Why didn’t you just say so?”
Stevie tossed her head airily. “Oh, I wanted to build up the dramatic suspense.”
“Humph,” I muttered. “Maybe
you’re
the one who ought to be onstage!”
Anyway, I guess Max thought the idea was just as perfect as we did. He actually gave Stevie a
hug
when she told him! Stevie was so shocked that she just stood there speechless while Max exclaimed, “Good for you! Good for you, Stevie Lake!” about ten times in a row. Finally he stepped back, looked her in the eye, and said, “We might make a horsewoman out of you yet.”
Stevie was pretty thrilled about that. Coming from Max, that kind of compliment is about as rare and hard to earn as a Nobel Prize!
So I guess this means that Stevie doesn’t have to worry about that crazy dream of hers anymore—
either
part. I mean, I’m no psychologist (despite what I wrote in here a while ago about becoming a horse psychologist, ha ha!), but her dream wasn’t exactly hard to figure out. In the first part, she was obviously worried about holding up her end of her partnership with Topside in the rally. Now that’s taken care of, since she’ll probably be doing more to help Prancer tomorrow than the other way around.
I guess the second part of the dream was pretty obvious,
too. We were worried that Lisa would stop riding. And since riding has always been such an important part of our friendship, we were afraid that if we didn’t have that in common anymore, we might stop being friends. As if that could ever happen! Still, I’ll admit that I was just as worried about it as Stevie was. Pretty crazy, huh?
I guess it’s only natural, though. Even though people live in the present, it seems like they’re always thinking about the past and the future. For instance, the main reason that Stevie and I were so worried about Lisa’s possible future (the one we thought she’d have if she gave up riding) was because our past together was so great. And haven’t I been spending the past few months worrying about my future, trying to figure out what I’ll be doing? It’s important, too, since in that case the future really could have an effect on the present, and I could be preparing for that future right now, just like the rider in Cam’s article did in her past.…
Well, I still can’t go to sleep, even though I know I should. I’m too excited about tomorrow. And all this talk about the past is making me think about my old diary again. I sort of don’t want to keep reading it, because I know what happens next. But for some reason I can’t help wanting to read on. Maybe I’ll just take a quick peek at the next entry before I turn in.
Dear Diary:
It’s starting to look like spring outside. All those flower bulbs Mom planted are coming up, which doesn’t seem quite fair somehow
.
I thought I was starting to deal with things pretty well. Mom has been going in for regular treatments, and it’s starting to feel almost normal. Well, not really—but at least a little closer to normal than the first month or two after her diagnosis
.
Then her doctor put her on some new drug, I forget what it’s called. It’s brand new, and it was supposed to help her body handle the other treatments better or something like that. I think. It’s hard to keep track of all the medical stuff sometimes
.
Anyway, Mom started the new drug last Monday. On Tuesday night, she woke up at two
A.M
. with a fever. She was shaking so hard she could barely stand up. Dad didn’t want to wake up a neighbor at that hour to come over and stay with me, so I went along with them to the hospital. It was awful. Even though the hospital’s only a short drive away, it seemed to take forever to get there. I sort of thought it might all be another nightmare, like the ones I had all the time right after we found out about the cancer
.
But it was real. And scary. The doctors say Mom’s back on track now, and the new medication they put her on to replace that one is working so far, but I guess it was a pretty close call. They’re not saying so to me, of course. But I can tell. There’s just something about the way Dad looks at Mom sometimes now—like he’s already missing her. That sounds horrible when I write it down like that, but it’s what I think he’s thinking. And that makes me think things I don’t want to think. Like how maybe Mom won’t be with us much longer
.
I can’t believe I just wrote that. It seems totally impossible. There’s just no way I can imagine how Dad and I would go on without her. I can’t imagine Mom not being there to see
me ride my first horse of my very own (not that we’ve been talking about that whole topic much since this happened, naturally). Or not cheering me on at my high-school graduation. Or not watching me get married someday
.
Not only that big stuff, though. It’s almost harder thinking about all the littler stuff she might miss, like finally taking that family vacation we had to cancel this year. Or even having her own garden like she planned
.
Okay, this is making me too sad. I think I’d better stop it and go over to Pine Hollow, even though my riding class isn’t for almost two hours. That will take my mind off this if anything can
.
(later)
I just got back from Pine Hollow and decided to add on to what I wrote earlier today. Someone at the stable said something that gave me an idea
.
Actually, it was Stevie Lake. I’ve been spending more time with her since Dinah Slattery moved away to Vermont last month. Also, she’s still one of the only kids in my riding class who doesn’t get all weird whenever I mention Mom. Some days she asks how she’s doing; some days she doesn’t. It’s like she trusts me to tell her what’s going on if I want to. I like that feeling. It’s so much better than Lauren saying, “Oh, Carole, everything will be all right,” or Polly and Betsy giggling nervously and then looking guilty
.
Anyway, today Stevie didn’t ask about Mom at all. That’s because she was really mad at Veronica. I guess Veronica said something snobby to her at school yesterday; she wasn’t too
clear on that. But she was out for revenge, and she had a plan. She’d overheard Max saying he was going to make a surprise stall inspection after our class. I guess he wanted to make sure we’d all taken care of our horses properly and not skimped on grooming or mucking out. So Stevie wanted to take a whole pile of manure from the manure pit and dump it into Princess’s stall right after class so that Veronica couldn’t possibly clean it all out in time (if she even bothered to check the stall, that is, instead of handing Princess off to Red O’Malley after class like she usually does). At first I wasn’t sure why Stevie was telling me about her plan, but then I realized she was asking for my help. She wanted me to help her fill a couple of the stable’s wheelbarrows with manure and hide them in an empty stall so they’d be ready for us to dump in Princess’s stall right before Max’s inspection
.
I’m sure she normally would have asked Dinah to help her. But since Dinah isn’t here anymore, she asked me. I was sort of flattered, actually. I mean, I haven’t known her nearly as long as Betsy or Polly or Lauren or some of the others. But I guess Betsy and Polly are better friends with Veronica than they are with Stevie. And I sometimes get the impression that Stevie doesn’t like Lauren that much
.
I was a little nervous about what she wanted me to do, even though she swore there was no way we’d get caught. I finally agreed when she offered to do the second part by herself (dumping the stuff into Princess’s stall) if I would just help her get the wheelbarrows ready
.
I was totally nervous the whole time we were doing it. I kept looking over my shoulder every two seconds, expecting Max or
Mrs. Reg to catch us. (Especially since Mrs. Reg sometimes seems to have eyes in the back of her head. She knows everything that goes on around the stable!) But the only one who saw what we were doing was Lauren. She walked by when we were pushing the third wheelbarrow full of manure into the empty stall across the aisle from Princess’s. “What are you doing?” she asked, wrinkling her nose the way she does when she’s unhappy about something. “Never mind,” Stevie snapped, glaring at her. “You didn’t see a thing, okay?”
I didn’t think that was very polite, so I smiled at Lauren apologetically. “Please don’t say anything to Max, okay?” I begged her
.
Lauren just shrugged, so I thought she was agreeing. And for a while Stevie’s prank went perfectly. She rushed straight to Princess’s stall after class, while I walked Comanche for her (mostly behind the building so that nobody would get suspicious). When Max started making the rounds a little while later, he came to Princess’s stall and found Veronica staring in disbelief. Princess was still standing in the hall, since the manure in her stall was about six inches deep! It was actually sort of funny, though of course it shouldn’t have been because if a horse had to stand in manure like that it would be really bad for its feet and everything. And it would have seemed like a really mean thing to do, except that Veronica is always so nasty herself. The horrified look on her face as she stared into that stall was priceless!
So Max bawled Veronica out for about half an hour, yelling at her about being more responsible and realizing that riding is a privilege and not a right, and all sorts of other
things. Stevie and I hid in Delilah’s stall, which is just a couple of doors down, and tried not to giggle too loudly
.
Veronica was just stunned at first, I think, but soon enough she got suspicious. She interrupted Max’s lecture to insist that the stall was almost clean before class (which it was) and that someone had done this as a prank. “It was probably that immature Stevie Lake,” she added loudly. “She’s always out to get me.”
Stevie started giggling even harder at that. But then we heard another voice
.
“She’s right, Max,” Lauren said. She was nearby, too, listening. “It was Stevie Lake. I saw her bringing in extra manure earlier.”
Stevie’s jaw dropped and her face turned bright red. I just froze, waiting for Lauren to mention me, too. I imagined how upset Mom and Dad would be when Max called to tell them why he was kicking me out of Pine Hollow for good. And I would have felt horrible about upsetting them right now, since the whole week has been upsetting enough
.
But Lauren didn’t say a word about me. She just told Max exactly what she’d seen. “See?” Veronica said angrily. “I told you.”
Max was quiet for a moment, I guess thinking that over. Then he told Lauren to find Stevie and ask her to come see him
.
Beside me, Stevie gulped. “I guess I’d better go out there,” she said
.
“I’ll go with you,” I offered. I knew it was the right thing to do, even though Lauren hadn’t told on me
.
But Stevie shook her head. “Don’t,” she said. “It was my idea—my plan. That Goody Two-shoes didn’t say anything about you, and Max will totally believe I did this on my own. There’s no reason both of us need to get in trouble.”
I started to insist, but she was firm. Finally I gave in, mostly because I was still thinking about what Mom would say if she found out what I’d done
.
So Stevie walked out to face the music herself. I peeked out over the stall door, still feeling guilty. Max yelled at her for a while and then made her apologize to Veronica, which was probably the hardest part for Stevie. After that, Veronica turned to Max and said, “Well? Don’t I have another apology coming?”
Max gave her a stern look. “Perhaps if you were more reliable about doing your own chores, I wouldn’t have believed the worst,” he said. “Now, why don’t you and Stevie get to work cleaning out this stall—together.”
Veronica was so shocked that she just sputtered for a few minutes, and by the time she got hold of herself, Max had moved on. So she just made obnoxious comments to Stevie for the next ten minutes, working really slowly the whole time. Then, when Max disappeared around the corner to inspect the stalls in the next aisle, Veronica threw down her pitchfork and left. She just left Princess cross-tied in the aisle and took off for home, leaving Stevie with most of the work. As soon as she was gone I came out of hiding to help, and Stevie and I managed to get the stall clean and Princess comfortable in no time
.
We talked a little while we worked, and that’s when Stevie
said the thing I’ve been thinking about ever since. I was telling her how bad I felt that she’d gotten busted and stuff like that. But she was really pretty calm about it
.
“It’s okay,” she said as she shoveled another forkful of straw and manure into the wheelbarrow. “At least I got my revenge.”
I wasn’t sure I’d heard her right. “But you got in just as much trouble as Veronica did!” I exclaimed. “Maybe more.”
Stevie just shrugged. “I know. And I’m sure Max will call my parents, and I’ll probably be grounded for a week or two. But I can survive that. I never could have lived with myself if I hadn’t done what I needed to do.”
I suspected she was a little more upset than she was letting on. But I was pretty sure she meant that part about needing to do what she’d done, and not being able to live with herself if she hadn’t at least tried to get back at Veronica
.
That’s what’s making me think so hard right now. Stevie is always doing stuff. Maybe it sometimes gets her in trouble or whatever, but at least no one can say she just sits around waiting for something to happen. She makes things happen herself
.
Maybe that’s what I need to do. Maybe instead of sitting around waiting for Mom to get better—or worse yet, worrying about horrible things that probably won’t even happen (like Mom missing all those important moments in my life), I should try to help her more
now.
Make good things happen for her. Try to be sure she has fun even though she’s sick
.
After all, like Stevie said, doing something is a lot better than sitting around being unhappy and doing nothing
.
