High Hurdles (34 page)

By Friday, DJ’s butterflies were in full flight. All she could think of was the show coming up the next day. Even though it was only a schooling show, this would be only the second time she showed Major, and she was going to enter Patches, too. All that plus coaching her three students and helping wherever Bridget needed her.

“Would you like to join us in class, DJ?” Her history teacher eyed her curiously over her glasses.

DJ could feel the heat begin at her collarbone and race up her face. “I . . . I’m sorry.” If only she could slither down under her desk and out the door.

“Please join us on page ninety-three and read from the second paragraph.”

“Yes, ma’am.” DJ found the place and rose to her feet. She heard someone snicker behind her. Now even her ears burst into flame. Reading aloud forced her to keep her mind on the lesson.

“Thank you,” the teacher said when DJ reached the end of the section. “Next?”

DJ sank into her desk. At least she hadn’t been asked a question on top of the reading. How embarrassing! If Bridget caught her daydreaming like that, she’d have had to do extra stalls.

The barns were in a flurry that afternoon with everyone bathing the show horses, then grooming them till they could nearly see their faces in the shiny hides. With two horses to prepare, DJ felt as if her arms would drop off by the time she finished. The white blaze on Patches’ face shone like new-fallen snow when the sun struck it.

“You know, if you could behave as well as you clean up, you’d have it made.” She slapped his rump to keep him from leaning on her while she picked his hooves. “You know all kinds of tricks to make my life miserable, don’t you?”

The gelding snorted and twitched his tail, catching some hairs in DJ’s mouth. She spit them out and brushed others off her head. “Sometimes I wonder about you, and other times I
know
you’re rotten clear through.”

“I really should be helping you so I learn how to do all this,” Mrs. Johnson said from her position at the gate.

DJ flinched. Here she’d been saying bad things about the horse, and the owner was standing right there.
Stupid horse, why didn’t he warn me?
She finished with the hooves and came around to drop the pick into the bucket. “You could keep brushing him and comb out his mane and tail.”

“Sure.” The woman ducked under the gate, picked up both brushes, and set to work. “We bought a leather halter and lead shank for tomorrow. He looks real good in it. Maybe next time I can show him—in halter at least.”

“Sure thing.” DJ started to leave. “You’ll be here in the morning for loading?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Mrs. Johnson stopped brushing. “DJ, I keep meaning to ask. How is Andrew coming with Bandit? Is he getting over the fear? We’ve been talking about it a little, but he doesn’t say much.”

“He’s doing better. I guess sometimes it’s hard to talk about.”

“I would love to see him entered in a show, and I just know he would enjoy riding up in the hills.”

“Yes, ma’am.” DJ had her doubts about Andrew ever wanting to show, but she wouldn’t voice them now. “See you in the morning.”

DJ headed for Major’s stall. Joe had washed the big gelding earlier in the day, so he only needed grooming. She glanced up to see clouds of red reflecting the setting sun. How could the time pass so quickly?

“You go check on your students—I’ve got everything under control here.” Joe paused in his brushing of the big bay as DJ walked up. Major leaned against his ties, half asleep.

“Thanks.” DJ turned and headed back to the barns. The girls should be in soaping their saddles by now. The three had all gotten soaked on the wash racks but helped each other so all the horses were clean and blanketed. They reminded DJ of her and Amy back when they were younger, all excitement and giggles.

“My arm’s gonna fall off.” Krissie groaned when she saw DJ. “This saddle is so big.”

“Not really. It just seems that way when it’s soaped up.” DJ checked the carved designs on the skirts. “You better get the soap cleaned out of here. It’ll show up white in the daylight.”

Krissie groaned again. “I’d rather wash my horse any day.”

Angie looked up from her bridle. “DJ, do you feel sick the night before a show?”

DJ nodded. “I got yelled at in school today because I was thinking about the show instead of history.”

The three girls giggled. “Did you get detention?”

“No way. I wasn’t
that
bad.” DJ inspected the work of all three. “Looks pretty good. You need to be here by 6:30
a.m.
to load your horses.” More groans. “Sorry, but that’s part of showmanship. And make sure all your clothes are ready tonight, too.” It felt like a century since DJ had started showing, but it had only been three years. “Shine your boots, and—”

“Get plenty of sleep!” The three shouted in unison.

DJ tapped Krissie on the head. “Smart mouths. Any questions?” When they shook their heads, she glanced over at the cars where their mothers waited. “Good, then you better hustle. See you in the morning.”

DJ headed back toward Major’s stall. Tony Andrada appeared in the side aisle.

“Hi, DJ.”

DJ looked the other way and kept walking.

Chapter
•
9

“Stuck-up!”

The name-calling hurt, but DJ kept right on going. No way would she say anything to Tony—not after the way he had treated Hilary. No matter what Joe said. Besides, DJ sure hadn’t seen him doing anything right. If only she could shut off the part of her that made her feel lousy when she was being less than honest. Tony hadn’t been mean to her. He only had this thing against Hilary because she was black. Had he been mean to Maria, a girl with a Hispanic heritage? And what about Amy? She was a Japanese American.

She shut off the thoughts, said good-night to Major, and after snagging Amy from the tack room, headed home. Would her mother be home or out with Robert? She sure was spending a lot of time with him.

“You want to ride over to the show with us in the morning?” Amy asked when they reached her house. A discussion about Tony had kept them occupied all the way home. As usual, there were no solutions, only more problems.

“If your dad doesn’t mind.”

“That’s a silly thing to say. Why would he mind?”

DJ shrugged. “Okay, see ya.”

No car in the drive, no lights on—obviously no one was home. Was that good or bad? DJ put her bike away, checked for messages—none—then wandered up to her room. Maybe her mother had left a note on the bed again. No such luck. The phone rang just as she was getting sandwich fixings out of the refrigerator.

After a greeting, Gran continued. “Lindy phoned to say that Robert called her and asked if the two of you would take care of the twins for the weekend. Robert was called out of town unexpectedly, and the boys’ nanny already had plans. Lindy’s gone into the city to pick them up.”

“But I have the show tomorrow.”

“She knows that. I’ll help tomorrow if needed.”

“I thought you and Joe would be at the show, too.”

“We will. Maybe we’ll bring the boys along with your mother. We’ll work something out. I said the boys could come here, but Lindy thought this might be a good idea. This way, you can see how you all do together.”

DJ felt a shudder start at her toes and reach her ears before blowing out the top of her head. Robert wouldn’t be there to calm them down. And her mother’s patience level lately had been nonexistent. Some weekend this was going to be. After saying good-bye to Gran, she wished she’d asked to come spend the night there. At least it would be quiet.

She ate, then wandered up to Gran’s old room. Since the bedroom set had moved to Gran’s new home, the room was empty. DJ got two sleeping bags down from the storage closet and two pillows from the linen closet. After spreading them out on the floor, she tried deciding what would help the boys feel at home. A radio? No, too old. Stuffed animals? Sure. She took a couple of bears and a pony off the shelf in her room and set them on the sleeping bags.

In spite of her best intentions, the boys ended up on the floor in DJ’s room.

“Okay, knock it off. I have to get up early.”

“Us too. We help you.”

DJ groaned at the thought. She hung over the side of her bed to watch the two boys, still bright-eyed and wired. “Do you two ever wind down?”

They shook their heads as if strung together.

“Well, you better now. No more giggling, no more talking, and don’t snore.”

At that, the giggles erupted again. DJ had used her sternest voice, but making them laugh made her feel giggly, too. How could she resist?

“You said your prayers yet?” She watched them shake their heads again. How could they do things in such perfect sync? “Okay, who’s first?”

“We say them together.” Both boys folded their hands on their chests and closed their eyes. “Dear God, bless Daddy, and Mommy in heaven, Grandpa and new Grandma, DJ, our maybe new mom, and Bandit. Please give us a new family soon and a pony—two ponies. Amen.” Their eyes popped open. “We always say bless DJ. Is that okay?”

“You bet, I need as many blessings as I can get. Good night, guys.”

“Good night, DJ. We love you.” Both voices sounded as one.

DJ turned out the light and flipped over on her back. If the twins were praying for Lindy to be their new mother and she was praying that the wedding wouldn’t happen, which prayer would God answer?

She closed her eyes and pictured the jumps at the show. Bridget always said to picture what you were going to do in your mind first and always to imagine yourself doing it perfectly. Imagining was easy. In her mind, DJ had jumped the entire Olympic course many times. She’d jumped in a Grand Prix and at the Cow Palace, too. She’d made every jump with room to spare and basked in the thunderous applause.

Now if only her butterflies would go to sleep along with the rest of her.

“What’s wrong, DJ?” Joe asked in the morning at the Academy.

“Too many things on my mind.”

“I always find that when I get in a situation like that, prayer helps more than anything else.”

“Yeah, well I prayed last night and this morning. The boys woke up when my alarm went off, and let me tell you, there was no way I could concentrate. They were so noisy! I left them watching cartoons after promising them Mom and Gran would bring them later. You suppose I had that many questions when I was little?”

Joe nodded. “From what Melanie remembers, yes. Come on, let’s get this guy loaded.” Ranger pawed the shavings in the next stall. “Sorry, fella, you have to stay home today.”

DJ led Major out to the trailer and walked him right in. Josh and Amy followed, then Hilary with her horse. Next they loaded Tony’s Thoroughbred and the other jumpers since the jumping events were always held first. Equitation classes came later, in the afternoon. As soon as the first load of horses departed, they started on the other students’ horses.

Finally, Joe called the jumpers to ride with him. DJ cringed. Would Tony join them? Sure enough. And Joe waved the creep to the front seat.

DJ felt as if she’d been smacked with a two-by-four. What was the matter with GJ? She and Amy swapped looks and made a place for Hilary. With five kids, the Explorer was full.

When Hilary slammed the side door, Tony opened his. Joe put a hand on the boy’s arm. “You’re riding with us.” He spoke in his policeman’s stern voice. Tony slammed the door and snapped his seat belt. He hugged the door as if he might be contaminated by the others.

Joe tried to make conversation, but all anyone answered was “yeah” or “no” or even a shake of the head.

DJ’s butterflies invented new stunts.

They pulled into the showgrounds right behind the long trailer.

“You’d think he was afraid of catching something from us,” DJ muttered when Tony bailed out before the truck had finished moving.

“Yeah, as if you could catch black skin,” Hilary said in the same undertone.

“
We’re
the ones who might catch something,” Amy added. “And I sure don’t want what he’s got.”

“Me neither.”

By the time they had the rope strung between trees and the horses spaced out, the second trailer arrived, and with it, the younger students.

DJ decided that if she heard her name called one more time, she would freak.

“Concentrate, DJ.” Bridget accurately picked up on DJ’s panic. “I will take care of the young ones until you are finished showing. Besides, their parents are here to help. They must learn what to do, too.”

DJ nodded. “Thanks.” But even when Joe put a hand on her shoulder to stop her mad scurrying, she felt like yelling. What was the matter with her? She’d never been this uptight before, not even the first time she showed.

DJ changed into her tan stretch pants, white turtleneck, and black tailored jacket. She tied her stock, watching the material drape in the mirror. After dusting off her velvet-covered helmet, she left the RV used as a dressing room and headed back for the lineup.

Joe waited with Major, who was polished to a super sheen.

“You’re looking good, kid.” He gave her a leg up and left one hand on her knee. “Come on, let’s see a smile. This isn’t the Olympic finals, you know.”

“I know.” DJ let out a deep breath. “I keep telling myself to focus, then someone calls my name and I’m off again.”

“Well, let’s get over to the warm-up ring, and you’ll be fine.”

Hilary rode in front of them, and Tony fell in behind as they followed the trail around the ring to a separate area where riders were already warming up their horses. DJ settled in her saddle, straightened her back, and reminded herself to always look ahead. She smiled at Joe and signaled Major to walk forward.

After several turns around the ring at a two-point trot, she eased him over to the cavalletti, the bars laid out parallel on the ground. She kept Major going straight and bending smoothly in the turns. All the hours she’d worked on the basics seemed to be paying off. He moved better than any well-oiled machine, his gait smooth and collected.

DJ could feel herself become more in tune with the movements, aware of the horses around them yet blanking out the rest of the world. She made a visual check, her body over her pelvis instead of settled back in the saddle like she used to ride. Sure enough, there was a straight line from her elbows to Major’s mouth. Heels down and looking straight ahead, she glanced down—right away, Major changed the beat. Back around again, over the cavalletti, one and two, relaxed and aware. She kept giving herself mental orders, sounding just like Bridget had for so many sessions.

When the announcer called for Hunter Seat, she joined the lineup at the gate. There were four entries from Briones Riding Academy in a class of ten. DJ waited her turn, keeping her mind on the horse beneath her and the class ahead.

Until Tony walked his horse up beside her and hissed out the side of his mouth, “Nigger lover.”

DJ felt her body tense as if she’d been struck. “Why, you . . . you . . .”

Tony touched his whip to his helmet and trotted into the ring.

“Next.” The ring assistant waved her forward.

DJ now understood the meaning of the phrase “seeing red.” A brilliant haze seemed to separate her from the rest of the world. She signaled Major into a trot but let him stumble as they entered the ring. The judge was staring right at her.

Concentrate! Come on, DJ, don’t let him get to you
. She swallowed and forced herself to look straight ahead, focusing on Major’s ears and the direction they were going. All around the ring she gave herself instructions, but too many times she called herself names at the same time. When they placed sixth, she knew it was her own fault. Major could have done better—all by himself. Hilary took the first, and Tony the red.

DJ had to smile at the look on the boy’s face. He didn’t like being beaten, and he sure didn’t like being beaten by Hilary. There was justice in the world after all.

“What happened?” Joe confronted her as soon as she exited the ring.

DJ wanted to tell him. After all, he’d invited the creep to sit in front on the way over. But tattling had never been her style. And she resolved she wouldn’t start now. But she
would
get even. If only she could figure out how.

Calling herself names had become a habit halfway through the Hunter/Jumper class. She knew she was jumping ahead of Major, but she couldn’t seem to stop. As soon as he left the ground, she knew she’d signaled him to jump too soon. Up and nearly over, and—the tick reverberated through her head. The last fence. She held her breath, but the pole didn’t fall. She finished the circle to a round of applause, but in her head, the names continued.

“I don’t deserve a horse like you when I mess up like this,” she told Major as she left the ring.

“Self-talk is for building up, not tearing down.” Bridget stopped to check on DJ with clipboard in hand. “Sometimes we learn by our mistakes. But good riders, even when they make mistakes, do not waste time calling themselves names. Let it go and learn from it. You will do better next time.”

DJ nodded. It was good advice, but could she figure out how to take it? She and Major still had a chance to show in English equitation that afternoon.

She looked up when she heard someone call her name. Two matching pairs of arms waved wildly from the log seating off to the side. Gran and Lindy had the twins corralled between them. DJ waved back and rode off to the lineup. Now she had to answer to her students and remind them not to commit the same mistakes. Yuck!