Schooling Horse (6 page)

Lisa got a step stool and a small comb and tied Milky in the aisle. The best way to trim and thin a horse’s mane was to pull all the longer hairs out. Lisa had been horrified when she’d first seen this done, but she soon realized that it didn’t hurt the horse. It was a time-consuming job. Lisa set her stool close to Milky’s front feet, climbed onto it, and began to pull the hairs at the base of Milky’s mane.

Milky relaxed his head and seemed to almost fall asleep. Lisa hummed a tune to herself. This business of
having her own horse was harder than she’d expected, but it was all starting to work out. Soon, no doubt, she’d grow to love Milky.

Max came in with Red. They waved to Lisa. She waved back. She combed a thin section of Milky’s mane, wrapped the long hairs around the back of the comb, and pulled. The hairs came out. Lisa dropped them to the floor and started over, moving farther up Milky’s neck.

“Au Lait,” she whispered to herself. It had a certain ring to it, but the problem was, so many people couldn’t pronounce it. Lisa shuddered to think of herself being announced at a horse show, “
Lisa Atwood, riding Au Lait
,” and hearing it rhyme with
splat.
No matter what, Lisa thought, a horse’s name shouldn’t rhyme with anything awful. But she did like the idea of the name referring to the horse’s color.
Maybe Blizzard
, she thought. “
Lisa Atwood, riding Blizzard.
” Maybe not. It rhymed with
wizard
, which was good, but also with
gizzard.

Snowstorm. That was a good one! Then she could call him Snowy, or even Stormy, like the book. She imagined the sign she’d have made for his stall:
SNOWSTORM
,
OWNED BY LISA ATWOOD
. She’d have it made out of wood, like the sign on Starlight’s door. She paused for a moment to rest her hands.

Without warning, Milky whipped his head around, his teeth bared. Lisa jumped back, falling off her stool. The cross-tie on Milky’s halter kept him from swinging his head all the way around, but even so his teeth closed on the sleeve of her jacket. He just missed her wrist.

“Milky!” Lisa cried. Milky rolled his eyes at her and tried to whip his head around again. His ears were flat against his skull. Lisa was so startled she felt tears come to her eyes. What was wrong with this horse?

“Lisa!” She looked up to see Max hurrying toward her. “Did that horse just try to bite you? What in the world is going on?” Max looked very upset.

“N-No,” Lisa stammered. “He didn’t bite me.”

“But it looked like that was what he was trying to do.” Max put his arm on Lisa’s shoulder and pulled her back a little way from the horse. “Has he done anything like this before—ever? Anything, while you’ve been riding him or caring for him?”

“No,” Lisa said. “He’s never tried to bite.” She wiped at the tear rolling down her cheek.

“You have to tell me if he ever does anything wrong,” Max said. “Anything that upsets you. I want to know all about it. Remember, he’s only here on trial.”

Lisa swallowed hard. It sounded as if Max was ready to send Milky away! “No, Max,” she made herself say in a calmer voice. “He startled me just now, but I don’t really think he was trying to bite me. I think he was going after a horsefly on his neck, and I just happened to be in the way.”

Max raised his eyebrows. “A horsefly in November?”

“Or something like that,” Lisa said. “I’m pretty sure I saw something flying.”

Max shrugged. “Well, it could be. But remember—you need to tell me if he does anything like this again.”

“Sure,” Lisa said. She looked at Milky. The horse had resumed standing still, half-asleep. “He seems fine now.”

“Yes, he does. Let me know if you have trouble.”

“Okay,” Lisa promised. Max nodded to her and went back to his work.

Lisa picked up her stool and moved it closer to Milky’s neck. She fingered the rip in her sleeve. None of the horses at Pine Hollow ever bit people—Lisa knew it was considered a pretty extreme vice. Horses were supposed to respect their riders, not try to hurt them.

Of course, students weren’t supposed to lie to their teachers, either, the way Lisa had just lied to Max. She felt very uncomfortable about it. But the longer she thought about it, the more she was convinced that there must have been a fly or some other reasonable explanation for Milky’s behavior.

Why not tell Max the truth?
she asked herself. She’d never said a word about Milky bucking or trying to run back to the barn. She’d only told the other members of The Saddle Club that she felt sure Milky didn’t like her.

If you tell the truth, you might lose Milky
, she answered in her mind. She wasn’t about to lose her dream come true. She wasn’t giving him up.

Lisa sighed and gingerly started to work on Milky’s mane again. She wasn’t giving him up. She’d just have to make him behave better.

“C
AROLE
! H
EY
, C
AROLE
!” Lisa ran down the nearly empty hallway. It was the next day, and school was finally over. Lisa had been held up for a few minutes at the end of her last class, and she’d been a little surprised not to find Carole standing by her locker waiting for her. Now she could see that Carole was still standing by the open door of her own locker. “Hi!” Lisa said, rushing up to her friend. “How’d it go? Ready to ride?”

Carole turned her head, and Lisa was appalled to see tears filling her eyes. “What’s wrong?” Lisa asked.

Carole could hardly bring herself to say it. “I failed my French dialogue again. Another F.”

“Oh no! Lisa said. “But you knew it perfectly!”

Carole stood transfixed in the hallway. Tears started to
trail down her cheeks. Lisa grabbed Carole’s last few note-books and stuffed them into her backpack, then shut Carole’s locker and guided her out to the street. The sooner they could get away from the school, the better.

“What happened?” Lisa asked as they made their way toward Pine Hollow.

Carole shook her head dully. “I want to quit,” she said. “If I could quit a class, I would. But I can’t. I have to go back there tomorrow.”

“But you knew it cold,” Lisa said. “Did you study the wrong dialogue?”

Carole shook her head. She swallowed hard. “No,” she said. “I really did know it. At home I sounded just like the voice on the tape. But I was so nervous. I got up in front of the class and my knees were shaking, and I knew everyone could see. And I said the first word, and my voice was shaking and I didn’t say it right. And then I just froze. I couldn’t do anything right after that.”

“Oh, Carole,” Lisa moaned. “Oh, how awful.”

“
I
was awful,” Carole said. “I just kept making mistakes, and feeling worse, and making more mistakes. Even when Mr. Norris tried to help. I don’t blame him for failing me again—I deserved to fail. I can’t do it. I just can’t speak French.”

“Yes, you can,” Lisa said. “You were speaking French all weekend. You were great.”

“I’m not great at school,” Carole said, shaking her head. “I can’t do it. I just can’t.”

Lisa squeezed Carole’s hand sympathetically. “Of
course you can,” she assured her. “We’ll help you figure it out. We’ll find a way.”

Carole looked down at her feet. “I just can’t,” she repeated. Lisa didn’t know what else to say.

When they got to Pine Hollow they found Stevie waiting for them. “Bad day,” Lisa said. She told Stevie what had happened to Carole, and Carole went over and put her arms around Starlight’s neck.

“Oh no,” Stevie moaned. Carole looked up at them.

“At least my horse doesn’t have a French name like yours does, Lisa,” she said bitterly. “Then I’d feel like a
total
failure.”

Stevie gave Carole a hug. “Let’s tack up fast,” she said. “The sooner you’re on a horse, the better you’ll feel. And we can talk about how to help you while we’re riding.”

“I don’t think you can help me,” Carole said. “Not unless you want to come to my class and recite these things for me.” She left to get her riding gear.

Stevie looked at Lisa. “Phew! She’s really upset!”

“I know.” Lisa was thinking about what Carole had said. What if Carole were the one riding—and owning—Milky?
Carole would probably already have all the horse’s problems solved
, Lisa thought sadly. She felt like a failure, too. She hadn’t yet told her friends that Milky had tried to bite her. After all, he probably hadn’t really meant to bite her. There could have been a fly. Lisa looked down the aisle. Milky’s beautiful face looked back at her from
the door of his stall. Despite her mood, Lisa smiled. He was so beautiful—and he was hers. Or would be hers. As long as she didn’t mess everything up.

“Lisa?” Stevie’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Oh—right.” Lisa went to get ready to ride. She had saved the carrot sticks from her lunch for Milky, and she was pleased when the horse gobbled them enthusiastically. He stood quietly while she groomed and saddled him.

“Cheer up, Carole,” she heard Stevie say. “We’ll figure it out.”

“I just can’t do it,” Carole repeated.

“Yes, you can. You’re not a quitter.”

Neither am I
, thought Lisa as she quickly tacked Milky up. She stroked his graceful neck before buckling the straps on his bridle.
I’ve never been a quitter, and I won’t start being one now.

Stevie and Carole weren’t quite ready, so Lisa took Milky outside, checked his girth, and mounted. She walked him a few steps forward, then let him stand while she adjusted one of the stirrup leathers. Milky seemed completely calm.

Then, without warning, he threw his head down and bucked hard. Lisa scrambled to hold on. She grabbed the reins halfway up Milky’s neck and hauled on his head, and Milky came to a halt. A moment later he seemed once more to be completely calm.

Lisa’s heart hammered. What was wrong with this horse? How could he act so spooked and the next minute act as if nothing on earth was wrong?

“Geez, Lisa,” said Stevie, coming out of the stable leading Belle, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She’d never seen Lisa’s face so white.

“It’s M-Milky,” Lisa stammered. “He just bucked—again. He almost threw me off, and then he went back to standing like nothing was bothering him.”

Stevie looked at Milky’s placid, almost bored expression. She couldn’t imagine that the horse had really bucked. Probably he’d just been startled by a scrap of paper or a blown leaf or something. Lots of Thoroughbreds were skittish. Stevie shook her head. She could see that whatever the horse had done had really upset Lisa.

“What’s wrong?” Carole asked as she came out of the stable.

“Milky’s still upsetting Lisa,” Stevie said.

“He scared me,” Lisa admitted. She described the way Milky had bucked. For some reason, she held off telling her friends about the bite.
Probably it didn’t really happen like that
, she thought. “I can’t tell if he’s really bad or if I’m making him out to be worse than he is,” she admitted to her friends.

Stevie nodded. “I haven’t seen him do anything too horrible,” she said, “but I can see that he’s making you nervous.”

“We’ll talk about it while we ride,” Carole said. She mounted and stood in her stirrups to flex her legs. “Are you okay to go out on the trails?”

“I guess so,” Lisa said. “As long as we go slowly.” Carole looked over at Stevie. Stevie shrugged and shook her head. Milky was doing nothing whatsoever for Lisa’s confidence.

“Y
OU KNOW
,” S
TEVIE
said once they were out of sight of the barn and had reached a place where they could ride three abreast, “I think there are a lot of similarities between your problem, Carole, and Lisa’s.”

Carole frowned. “I was pretty much kidding when I said I was glad my horse didn’t have a French name,” she said. “I mean, I am glad, but I don’t see that Lisa’s horse has anything to do with my problem.”

“No, listen,” Stevie persisted. “I didn’t say they were the same, I said they were similar. Originally, you had a lot of trouble pronouncing the French, right?” Carole nodded. “But you worked hard on it, and before class today you knew it—I know you did, Carole. I heard you say it forty times, and I heard the tape, too. You were good. But in class today you couldn’t recite it well because you got too nervous.”

Carole nodded. “True, but how does that—”

Stevie held up her hand. “And look at the way Lisa’s riding. She’s clearly worried about what Milky’s going to do next.”

Lisa looked down. It was true that she was riding with her reins shorter than usual and with her heels more forward and her shoulders farther back—defensive riding, Max called it. “You would be, too,” Lisa said. “He keeps bucking.”

“I know,” Stevie said soothingly. “But it might be that part of the reason he’s bucking is because he can tell that you’re nervous. He’s a Thoroughbred, and you know how sensitive they are to their riders’ emotional states. It’s like with Carole. Your nervousness wasn’t the start of your problem—he was already misbehaving the first day you rode him—but now it’s making your problem worse. He dumped Jessica that first day, so when you got on him you were already expecting him to misbehave. But back then he was probably just acting up because he was in a strange environment. Only now, whenever you ride him, you’re nervous, and he acts up, and that makes you more nervous, and that makes him more likely to act up.”