Summer Rider (13 page)

“Stevie! Hey, Stevie!” called an excited voice. Several campers were hurrying toward them, waving their sponsor sheets. With that, Lisa’s jogging was forgotten—at least for the moment. For the next hour or two, campers turned up in a steady stream to drop off their sponsor sheets. Most of them hung around to talk about the show or to see how much money they had raised.

Stevie and her calculator stayed busy adding up the numbers as they came in. One of the volunteer ticket sellers showed up to report the take at the gate, and the
dressage instructor, who had been manning the refreshment table, came by with her numbers as well. Last but not least, Mike knocked on the door. He had just spent the last hour on the phone with parents and had an early estimate for the videotape sales.

Taken separately, the numbers all seemed impressive. But before the evening was over, Stevie discovered to her dismay that no matter how many times she added them up, the total just wasn’t enough. They were still almost ten thousand dollars short.

T
HE FINAL DAY
of camp was a gloomy one. That had nothing to do with the weather—it was a perfect summer Saturday—and everything to do with the mood of the campers when they learned that Moose Hill was doomed despite everything they had done.

After breakfast, Stevie decided it was time to tell Barry everything. She found Carole and Lisa in the cabin. Lisa was reading
Hamlet
, and Carole was packing. Both of them seemed a little distracted when Stevie told them what she planned to do, but both agreed to come along.

Barry’s jaw dropped when he heard about the fund-raiser. For a moment he seemed unable to speak. “You—you mean you kids raised more than twenty thousand
dollars just from the horse show yesterday?” he stammered at last.

Stevie nodded. “The only problem was, we needed to raise
thirty
thousand.”

Barry ran one hand through his hair. He couldn’t seem to decide whether to smile or frown. “I can’t believe it,” he said, finally settling on a smile. “This was all supposed to be a secret, but—well, thanks, girls. Thanks a lot. I really appreciate your efforts—it’s good to know that this place means so much to someone besides me.” He sighed. “Actually, though, I guess I should tell you that even the thirty thousand I mentioned was a rounded-off number. The amount I needed was more like thirty-four thousand.”

For some reason, that made Stevie feel even worse. She handed Barry the envelope she was holding. “Here’s the money we collected so far. I guess we should give it all back.”

“Not necessarily,” Barry said. “Let me talk to some of the people in town and figure out an appropriate charity to donate it to.”

The Saddle Club just nodded. They were glad the money they had raised would be going to a good cause, but they couldn’t work up much enthusiasm at the thought. It wouldn’t be the cause they had wanted.

Barry tucked the envelope in his desk drawer. “I might as well tell you the rest of the bad news,” he said quietly.
“I spoke with Fred Winter a few minutes ago. He tells me they’re close to finalizing the deal and are expecting to sign the papers first thing Monday morning.”

“Then those bulldozers will be able to get right to work,” Lisa said grimly. Even though she hadn’t been giving her full attention to the efforts to save Moose Hill, she was sorry that the plan had failed. But it fit right in with her own morose mood since losing the show-jumping competition. During her jog the day before, she had thrown the chocolate chip cookie she had bought as far into the woods as she could. Even if she couldn’t do anything else right, there was still one thing she could do, and that was stick to her diet.

Barry sighed. “I still can’t quite believe this is happening,” he said, his voice so sad that the girls could hardly stand it. “This place has been my home for the past ten years—the people here have been my family. And Monday morning it will all be over.”

After that, there didn’t seem to be much left to say. The girls left Barry’s office and wandered out into the bright morning sunshine.

“It seems like it should be raining,” Carole said gloomily.

Stevie shrugged. “Well, it’s not,” she said. “Anybody want to go for one last trail ride or something?”

“I’m not in the mood,” Carole said. Now that they had wrapped things up with Barry, she was starting to
think more seriously about Lisa’s problem. “Besides, I already put on Starlight’s traveling bandages.”

“Oh, right,” Stevie said. “I did Belle’s, too.” She fell silent for a moment. “Still, I’d really like to ride out into the woods once more,” she said at last. “Maybe even take another look at those bulldozers.”

“Why?” Lisa asked.

“I don’t know,” Stevie replied. “I just feel like I need to see them one more time to really convince myself that our plan failed.” The word tasted bad as it left her mouth. The Saddle Club had never failed at something this important before.

Lisa was nodding, looking thoughtful. “Believe it or not, that actually makes sense,” she said. “I’d come with you, except I really want to do some reading …”

“Forget about that for once, will you?” Stevie snapped. “It’s the last day at camp. You can read all the way home in the van if you want to. But please come along now, okay?”

Lisa looked uncertain, but finally she nodded. “Okay.”

“You two go ahead,” Carole said. “I’m going to stay here.”

Stevie gave her a surprised look and opened her mouth to argue.

Carole cut her off before she could say a word. “I mean it,” she said. “There’s something I have to do before we leave.”

Stevie gave in with a shrug. “Why don’t we both ride Major,” she said to Lisa. “That way I won’t have to redo Belle’s bandages.”

As soon as her friends had disappeared into the barn, Carole began searching for Betty. She was determined to find out the whole story of what had happened to Piper. Since Barry had made it clear that he wasn’t going to tell her anything, she would ask Betty. And this time she wasn’t going to take “none of your business” for an answer.

Carole found Betty in one of the sheds. The instructor was making a list of the equipment there, adding notes about what would happen to it when the camp closed.

“It’s not a very fun task,” she told Carole. “But I could use some help if you’ve got a few minutes.”

“Sure,” Carole said. She took the paper and pencil Betty handed her and began digging through one of the toolboxes, writing down the names of the items she found there. After working in silence for a moment, she cleared her throat. “Betty,” she said. “There’s something I have to ask you.”

“I hope it’s not about what I’m going to do with myself starting Monday,” Betty said. “Because I have no idea. None of us does, really.”

Carole shook her head. “That’s not it,” she said as she dropped a pair of pliers back into the box. “It has nothing to do with Moose Hill’s closing.”

Betty looked surprised. “Ask away, then.”

“It’s about Piper,” Carole began. “I need to know what happened to her.”

Betty looked even more surprised, as well as a little cautious. “I’m not sure why you’re asking, but I really think Barry’s the one you should talk to about this. All I know is that she had to leave for personal reasons.”

“I know that’s not true.” Normally Carole would never have the guts to say such a thing to an adult, but she was getting desperate. She couldn’t help thinking that Lisa’s peace of mind was depending on her. “I overheard you and Barry talking about it last night by the pond. You said she was in the hospital. I’m sorry for eavesdropping, but I know you know what happened to her, and I’ve really got to find out the truth. For Lisa’s sake.”

“Lisa? What does she have to do with this?” Betty asked quickly. “I know they were cabin mates, but—”

“Lisa hasn’t been the same since Piper disappeared,” Carole replied. “Her whole personality has changed. She barely sleeps, she skips half her meals, and she never seems to smile anymore.” Carole didn’t realize how true the last part was until she said it. Lisa had the kind of smile that brought her whole face to life, and Carole hadn’t seen it in far too long.

Betty’s shoulders sagged. “Oh, no,” she said, sinking down onto a pile of empty feed sacks. “It can’t be.”

Her face had gone pale, and Carole felt frightened, though she wasn’t sure why. “What?” she whispered. “Please, you have to tell me.”

“I guess I do,” Betty said. She took a deep breath. “Carole, have you ever heard of a disease called anorexia nervosa?”

Carole nodded. “We studied it in health class last year. It’s when people starve themselves to lose weight.”

“That’s right,” Betty said. “But there’s more to it than that. It’s an eating disorder, but it’s really about more than losing weight. It seems to be mostly about being in control. And it’s all too common among teenage girls who seem to have everything going for them. Girls like Piper.”

“You mean Piper has anorexia?” The thought made Carole go cold all over. Piper had seemed so perfect, so smart and successful. And Carole’s health teacher had told the class that some victims of anorexia got so sick that they eventually died. Carole set down the list she had been making and sat down next to Betty. “I can’t believe it. She was thin, but she didn’t look sick.”

Betty sighed. “I know it isn’t easy to believe, but I’m afraid it’s true. Piper has been struggling with anorexia for years. In the past year she seemed to finally be getting over it for good, and that’s why her parents decided to let her come to camp. But once she arrived, she stopped eating again. Fortunately her parents had told Barry
about her history, and as soon as he realized what was happening he called them. It took him a while to catch on, though—Piper has had anorexia for so long that she’s become an expert at hiding her problem from the people around her.”

“I still can’t believe it,” Carole said, shaking her head. “She seemed so normal. Well, better than normal, actually. She’s a fantastic rider.” But even as she said it, she remembered that Piper had rarely come to meals, and she had eaten very little when she had. Also, she had exercised almost nonstop—if she wasn’t riding, she was swimming or jogging or playing tennis.

“I know,” Betty said, nodding. “She was one of the best riders at camp because she liked to succeed. But anorexics often feel such a driving need to succeed, to control their own lives, that they feel they must control every bite that enters their mouth. Their need to be thin sort of takes over their mind, and they’ll do anything to lose just one more pound.”

Carole felt bad for Piper, but she was even more worried about Lisa. “Could—Could Lisa’s weird behavior mean that living with Piper made her get anorexia?”

“Anorexia isn’t contagious the way the flu or measles is,” Betty said. She gave Carole a searching look. “But if Lisa is acting as oddly as you say, I suppose it’s possible that Piper’s behavior somehow influenced her own. I’m no expert, though. If you’re really worried, you have to see that she gets professional help.”

“I don’t know …” Carole thought hard for a moment. Piper had obviously had a strong effect on Lisa, and not necessarily a good one. But maybe all Lisa needed was to find out what had happened to her friend. Once she realized what she was doing, she would stop—she was too sensible not to. Once camp was over, maybe all of them, including Lisa, could put this behind them.

“I’ll speak to Barry about Lisa if you like,” Betty offered. “Or if you’d rather he didn’t know, I could call Lisa’s parents and talk to them about it.”

Carole stood up and rubbed her forehead. This was too much for her to take in all at once. Lisa really did seem to be in some kind of trouble, but Carole wasn’t sure that calling in the adults was the right thing to do. Somehow, that seemed like a betrayal of everything The Saddle Club stood for. If Lisa’s problems didn’t go away on their own once they left camp, maybe Carole and Stevie could figure out a way to help her. “Don’t do anything yet, okay?” she said. “Let me think about it first.”

Betty nodded reluctantly. “Please let me know what you decide,” she said. “If Lisa’s in the kind of trouble you’re afraid of, she needs help fast.”

M
EANWHILE
L
ISA AND
Stevie were riding bareback through the forest toward the spot where the bulldozers had been heading. They didn’t talk much as they rode, letting Major choose his own pace along the sun-dappled trails.

As they neared their goal, the sound of motors came to them. “What do you think they’re doing?” Stevie asked in surprise. She had expected the machinery to be waiting silently for Monday morning, when it could begin chewing its way through the forest.

Lisa just shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out.”

The girls rode toward the noise. The closer they got, the louder it was. “It’s a good thing we’re both riding Major,” Stevie said. “There’s no way Belle would get this close to that kind of racket.”

Finally they came upon the same caravan of machinery they had seen before. Once again, the giant machines were on the move, crawling along the wide dirt road through the forest. Stevie urged Major forward, and the horse stepped out onto the road ahead of the first bulldozer.