Mallory and the Dream Horse
“My parents made me,” he said. “Riding is a tradition in my family.”
“But don’t you like it?”
He shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess.”
“Oh, you’re kidding, right?” I exclaimed. “I mean, how could you ride a beautiful horse like Pax and not think horses are absolutely wonderful?”
David’s face softened as he looked over at Pax. “He is a pretty cool horse.” He patted Pax lightly on the neck. The horse craned his head around and nuzzled David’s palm.
“That tickles.” David laughed and pulled his hand away.
“He’s begging for a treat,” I explained.
Pax whinnied and then we both laughed.
“How many kids are in your family?” I asked.
“I’m an only child,” David replied as he scratched Pax between the ears.
“Hey, maybe you’d like to meet my brothers and sisters. People come over to our house all the time. It’s like a big circus. I’ll give you my phone number and you could come visit.”
I know it sounds like I was being pushy, but David was shy and needed a little push. Anyway, I wrote my phone number on a Post-It from the stable office and gave it to David. He put it in his pocket and said, “Thanks.” If he didn’t want it, he could have given it back, right?
As I rode my bike home that afternoon, I reviewed the new events in my life. I was learning to be a horsewoman. I’d ridden Pax, my dream horse, and I’d taken a stab at making some new friends. Megan seemed okay, Kyle was nice, and David even had my phone number. One of them would probably give me a call before the week was up.
“Hi, Mallory,” said my mother as I came in the back door. “Lunch will be ready in ten minutes.”
“Great, Mom, I’m starved.” I snuck a warm roll from the basket resting on the kitchen counter. “That gives me just enough time to call Jessi.”
My mother swatted my hand. “Why can’t you wait till the food gets to the table?” she complained.
I laughed and stuffed the whole roll into my mouth. “It tastes better this way,” I mumbled.
Then I took the stairs three at a time and reached for the hall phone. I dialed Jessi without even looking at the numbers.
“Hi,” I cried when she picked up. “It’s me.”
“Hi, Mal. I was just thinking about you.” Jessi sounded like her old self. “What are you doing today?”
“Jessi!” I gasped. “What kind of question is that? I just had my second riding lesson. Remember?”
“Oh.”
“It’s only the most important thing in my life right now,” I pointed out.
“I’m sorry, Mal. I guess I forgot.”
“Well, aren’t you going to ask me how it went?”
There was a long pause. Finally Jessi asked, “How was it?”
“Fantastic. I got there early and Lauren — that’s my teacher — let me ride Pax.”
“Pax?”
“My dream horse. Don’t you remember, Jessi? I told you about him last week.”
“Oh, yeah. Right.”
Suddenly Jessi didn’t sound like herself at all. If I hadn’t known her so well, I would have thought she was snubbing me. Even so, I tried to tell her about my new friends.
“There’s this boy named David. He’s got dark hair and glasses and he’s kind of shy — but nice. He rode Pax last week. I think he’ll be coming over to visit. You should meet him. And then there’s this girl named Megan. Her family owns eight horses and they have their own stables, can you believe it?”
“Really.”
Jessi couldn’t have cared less about anything I was saying. I was starting to feel uncomfortable.
“Megan will probably be calling me, too —”
“Listen, Mal,” Jessi interrupted, “I’ve got a lot of chores to do today. I’d better not talk on the phone too long. Okay?”
“Oh, well, sure. If you have to go.” This was weird. Jessi had never cut me off before. “I just thought you’d like to hear my good news.”
“I’d like to, but I don’t really have the time. Sorry.”
I couldn’t help it. My stomach tightened into a hard knot, and suddenly I felt angry. Jessi was supposed to be my best friend and here she was treating me like a stranger.
“Fine.” My voice sounded as dead as Jessi’s did. “Then maybe I’ll see you at school.”
I waited for Jessi to say something about getting together over the weekend. Usually we hang out as much as possible. But she didn’t even suggest it. Which made me even madder. I set the phone on its hook. Then without thinking I picked it up again and slammed it down hard.
“That’s just fine with me,” I muttered through clenched teeth. “I don’t need your friendship. I can see all my new friends. Like David. And Megan. And Kyle.” I picked up the phone again. “I’ll show you. I’ll just call them.” But when I put the phone to my ear, I realized I didn’t know David or Megan or Kyle’s phone numbers or even their last names. I set the phone down and shrugged. “Oh, well. They’ll call me.”
A week passed and Jessi and I barely spoke. She went to her ballet lessons, and even though we both had baby-sitting jobs, that didn’t explain why we weren’t calling each other. And what about all those new friends I’d made at Kendallwood Farm? Well, I didn’t hear from a single soul.
Thunk. I hit the ground so hard the wind was knocked out of me. Has that ever happened to you? It’s the most terrible feeling in the world.
It was my third lesson at Kendallwood Farm and I wasn’t riding Pax. I was riding Gremlin, the horse Megan had struggled with the week before. I should have known I was going to have trouble when he bucked every time I put my foot in the stirrup. Lauren finally held him until I was able to get in the saddle, but the entire lesson went downhill from there.
First of all, Kyle and David, whom I had expected to call me during the week, didn’t even say hello to me. You’d have thought we’d never met. Kyle did sort of smile in my direction, but that was it. Then Lauren ran us quickly through our lesson — more walking and trotting and reversing directions. Gremlin kept pushing up against the riding rail. I knew exactly what he was doing. He was trying to scrape me out of the saddle. Normally I would have laughed about it with the rest of the riders in my class, but none of them seemed to be aware that I even existed, let alone that I might be having trouble.
“Okay, everyone, today we’re going to learn how to canter,” Lauren announced from the center of the ring as we rode around and around her. “The canter cue is an easy one. Simply keep your outside leg where it is, and move your inside leg back about two inches. Then squeeze your horse with your legs.”
I was concentrating so much on where my legs were supposed to go that I forgot to keep a firm grip on the reins. When she said, “Squeeze your horse,” I did.
Gremlin bolted forward like he’d been jabbed with a needle. He bucked twice and I flipped backwards out of the saddle. I landed flat on my back. Luckily I was wearing my riding helmet because my head bounced hard against the ground. As soon as I hit the dirt, every muscle in my body seemed to lock and I couldn’t breathe in or out. For a second I was sure I was going to die. I lay on the ground in a daze, vaguely aware of the pounding horses and their riders struggling to avoid stepping on me.
“Come to a halt, class!” Lauren shouted. “Halt!”
She raced to my side, and it was only when she reached me that I was able to breathe. I sucked in a gulp of air and sat up.
“Mallory, are you all right?”
I turned my head slightly and saw that she was staring hard into my eyes. I think she was checking to see if I had suffered a concussion. The jolt to my body had been so strong and so hard that tears rushed to my eyes and streamed down my cheeks. It was really embarrassing. I couldn’t stop the tears. I tried to cover my face with my hands so the rest of the class couldn’t see, but I knew they already had. Then my hands started shaking.
“Mallory,” I heard Lauren say in a gentle voice. “Do y
ou think you can stand?”
I tried to answer but my mouth wasn’t working right. So I just nodded.
“Here, I’ll help you walk over to the bench.” Lauren pulled me carefully to my feet. My legs felt like rubber. I could barely control them, so I had to lean on Lauren’s arm for support.
What a jerk I was. Crying and shaking like that. Worse, the rest of the class just stared at me like I was some strange being from another planet. I saw one girl whisper behind her hands to the girl next to her, who giggled. She stopped quickly when Lauren shot her a hard look.
“Amber?” Lauren barked. “Lead the class in trotting until I get back.”
Lauren led me to a wooden bench at the side of the ring and asked me to move my arms and legs to make sure nothing was broken. “Are you sure you’re okay, Mallory? You had a pretty bad fall.”
I wiped my nose. It had started running (naturally), so besides feeling stupid I also felt ugly. “I think so,” I said. “But I’m still a little shaky.”
Lauren nodded and stood up. “Just to be on the safe side, I’m going to call your mother and have her come pick you up.” She patted me lightly on the shoulder. “I think you’ve done enough riding for today.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, staring at the ground. Normally I would have protested, but I was too woozy to ride my bike home. I felt like a wimp. In the movies, whenever a rider takes a fall, he or she always gets right back on the horse, just to show confidence.
Lauren leaned over and whispered, “Listen, every good rider suffers a fall like this. More than once, I hate to say. So there’s no need to feel ashamed.” She straightened up and sighed. “Besides, I think it’s about time to retire Gremlin. He’s been giving everyone trouble.”
Her words were intended to reassure me, but they didn’t. I still felt embarrassed and hurt and angry. I knew the rest of the kids in my class were thinking I was a klutz. And I was afraid they were right. I closed my eyes, wishing I could just make a wish, and poof, I’d be home.
My mom arrived ten minutes later. She leaped out of the car without turning off the engine and ran toward me across the paddock. “Mallory, are you okay? Can you walk?”
I felt a huge wave of relief. I didn’t care if the other kids were watching or not. I got up and limped to my mom and let her hug me. I hugged her back hard. “I think I’m fine. I feel shaky and bruised, but Lauren doesn’t think anything’s broken.”
My mother helped me to the car, running around to open the door on my side. “I think we’d better take you to the hospital, just to be sure.”
“Oh, Mom,” I protested weakly. “I’m okay, really.”
“No arguments.” My mother hopped into the driver’s seat and put the station wagon in drive. “I’ve already called Dr. Calloway. He and your father will meet us at the emergency room.”
On the way to Stoneybrook General Hospital I told Mom about my accident. I exaggerated a little about how mean Gremlin was, and how he bolted when I gave him the canter cue, but I didn’t need to elaborate on the description of having my breath knocked out of me. It was vivid in my memory.
My mother listened with a worried frown on her face. She gasped in all the right places and made sympathetic noises when I described how much the fall hurt. It felt good to be able to tell her about it.
Dad met us at the front entrance and helped me into the waiting room. I could tell he was worried about me because he was treating me as if I were a basket of eggs. “Do you want me to carry you inside?” he asked.
“Dad!” I looked around quickly to make sure no cute guys were in hearing distance. “I’m really okay,” I reassured him. “Honest.”
“That is a dangerous sport,” my mom declared while she filled out the insurance papers at the front desk. “You’ve had a bad fall. We’re not leaving here until I’m sure you’re all right.”
The nurse ushered us into an empty examining room, where we waited for Dr. Calloway to arrive. He’d been out at the golf course, so when he came in he wasn’t wearing his usual white coat. Instead he had on these bright yellow pants, an electric blue polo shirt, and a visor.
“Sorry to call you away from your game,” Dad said.
Dr. Calloway waved one hand. “It’s no problem.” He slipped on his stethoscope, found a small pen light, and ran me through a series of tests.
First he listened to my heart. Then he shone the light in my eyes while asking me to look in various directions. Finally he tested my reflexes by tapping my knees with a little rubber hammer. After about ten minutes he looked up at my parents and announced, “Well, I think she’ll live.”
I giggled and he grinned at me. “There, you see? Laughter is the best medicine.” Dr. Calloway tucked his stethoscope away and said, “We don’t need an X-ray, but you’ve had a pretty hard fall, young lady. One you probably won’t forget.”
Boy, was he right about that!
“I’d advise,” he continued, “that you take it a little easier next time. Choose a different horse.”
“I’m not sure there should be a next time,” my mother said as we were riding home in the car.
“I think we should let Mallory be the judge of that,” my dad replied. He looked at me in the rearview mirror and raised his eyebrows. “How do you feel about it, Mal? Do you want to quit your lessons? We’d understand if you did.”
“No way!” I blurted out.
After all I’d gone through to get a chance to take riding lessons, I wasn’t about to let one fall stop me. Besides, if I left the class, I’d never see Pax again. How could I stop seeing my dream horse?
“I want to keep riding,” I pleaded. “Please, Mom, I’ll be careful.”
After a lot of fast talking my mother gave in — but only on the condition that I would never ride Gremlin again.
She didn’t have to worry about that. Lauren replaced Gremlin with a bay gelding named Samson. He was really gentle but huge. So huge I was afraid to ride him.
But not just Samson. After the accident, I was afraid to ride any horse. Even Pax, the nicest, most gentle horse in the stable. It took all of my self-control just to get on his back. Whenever Lauren would tell us to mount up, I would feel this awful knot in my stomach and a rushing in my head. My legs would ache for hours after each lesson because I was gripping the horse too hard. I could barely concentrate on what Lauren said to us. With every bounce in the saddle, my mind would scream, Don’t fall off! Whatever you do, don’t fall off!
Things became worse and worse. I started to dread the end of the school week. Every Friday night, I’d toss and turn and then on Saturday mornings I’d do everything to avoid going to the stables. It didn’t help that the rest of the kids in my riding class pretty much ignored me.
Worst of all, there was no one I could talk to about being afraid. Not Mom or Dad. The lessons had cost them too much. So there I was. I had gotten everything I’d said I wanted — riding lessons and my dream horse. And I was totally miserable.
But what I missed most was my friendship with Jessi. A month before, I could have told her how I felt and she would have understood. Now we seemed to be drifting apart, and I didn’t know what to do about it.
I would have given anything to be able to stay home and watch the kids rehearse their talent show, but I had made a commitment to riding lessons.
Claudia met Stacey, who lives right behind me, on her front porch that morning. Together they walked over to our house and rang the doorbell. It was answered by one of the triplets.
“Hi, Byron,” said Claudia.
“Hi,” my brother replied, pulling the door back for the girls. “Come on in. You’re just in time for the dress rehearsal for the big talent show.”
Claudia and Stacey had heard about the show but hadn’t had an opportunity to see it yet.
“Are all of you kids in it?” Stacey asked as Byron led them outside.
“Not me. No way,” Byron replied. “Just Margo, Nicky, Vanessa, and Claire. They call it Stars of Tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a big deal,” Claudia said.
Byron made a face. “From the way Vanessa is acting you’d think this thing was going to be on national television.”
“She’s pretty bossy, huh?” Claud laughed.
“You said it,” Byron replied. He motioned toward the door. “They’re all out there getting ready.”
Stacey and Claud had been hired to sit for all of my brothers and sisters, so Stacey asked, “What are you and Adam and Jordan up to this morning?”
“We’re playing Nintendo in the rec room.”
“Well, let us know if you decide to go anywhere, or if you need anything,” Claudia called over her shoulder as she followed Stacey outside.
“Okay.”
Stacey and Claudia stepped into the yard and gasped. Every inch of the yard was crowded with children and pets.
“The entire neighborhood must be here,” Claudia said.
Vanessa stood off to the side, shouting through a megaphone that she had made out of poster board. The word “Director” was printed in big letters on the side. “Will the contestants for the Stars of Tomorrow talent show please stop talking and lend me your ears?”
“We’re supposed to give her our ears?” a little girl in a pink tutu with rabbit ears asked the group in general.
Claudia giggled while Stacey knelt beside the girl and explained, “I think she wants you to sit down and listen to her.”
The girl hiked up the front of her leotard. “Then why didn’t she say so?”
No one seemed to have heard Vanessa’s announcement. The kids continued their excited chatter. Finally Vanessa climbed on a lawn chair and bellowed, “Be quiet and sit down!”
There was a shocked silence as the kids stopped talking and looked around to see who was shouting at them.
“That got their attention,” Claudia murmured to Stacey.
The triumphant smile on Vanessa’s face vanished as the chair she was standing on slowly folded in the middle and collapsed. She fell backwards onto the grass with a yelp. The kids applauded.