Pony Rebellion, page 10
I caught James’s eye and shook my head. No way was it going to get better, and it wasn’t James’s fault.
“Can’t you make Henry toe the line?” Sophie said quietly to James.
“He’s a nightmare, totally unschooled and disrespectful,” James explained, his shoulders sagging as he dismounted. “I really need to sort him out, but I can’t be horrible to him with his doting mom, Mrs. B., sitting there watching me. The pony has no respect at all. He just ignores my instructions completely.”
“Mmmm,” mused Sophie, lost for words, for once. Her cell phone rang, and she turned away, lost in advice to her friend about a horse the friend was thinking of buying.
The ponies were having their own discussion.
“We have to do something. Henry’s wrecking the ride,” said Bambi.
“It’s not fair,” complained Tiffany. “I’ve bumped into him three times when he just stopped for no reason. It’s no fun having your nose shoved into Henry’s tail,” she said, wrinkling her nose up in disgust.
“I think he needs a kick,” suggested Drummer.
“How will that help?” asked Bluey. “We’ve already got Moth out of action.”
“If it were summertime, and we were in the field at night, we could have a little word with our uncooperative friend and persuade him to embrace teamwork,” Drummer said grimly.
“Well, it isn’t, we’re not, and we can’t,” said Tiffany.
“Hang on a minute…” said Drummer, and he turned to me. “Do you think James could make sure Henry doesn’t kick anyone if we put a plan into place?” he asked me.
“I’ll ask him,” I said. “What sort of plan?”
“Oh, just a sort of push-Henry-in-the-right-direction plan,” Drum said airily. He turned back to the other ponies. “Do you think you can lean on Henry? After all, he’s your partner,” he asked Tiffany.
“Are you kidding?” Tiffany replied, her ears swiveling. “He’s twice my weight. He only has to lean back, and I’ll cave like a cardboard cutout!”
“True, there isn’t much of you,” mused Drummer. “I don’t understand it. You eat like there’s no tomorrow.”
“Worms,” snapped Bambi.
“Hey!” exploded Tiffany. “It’s my metabolism. I’m naturally slender! Not like you!”
“Just what are you insinuating?” demanded Bambi.
“Mares, mares,” soothed Drummer, “can we stay focused, please?” Bambi and Tiffany, truce declared, paid attention as Drummer explained his plan. The ponies were to persuade (Drummer’s word, not mine) Henry to cooperate by pushing him along and bouncing him into the right place. “If he stops in front of you, Dolly, you have to nip his rump. If he goes less than straight, Tiffany, it will be your job to straighten him up.”
“But I’ve just told you, he’s built like a tank, and I am not!” said Tiffany.
“OK,” said Drum, thinking furiously, “you’re more Henry’s size, Bluey. We’ll have to get you next to him.”
“Me?” asked Bluey, not welcoming the idea. But, being Bluey, he came around. “OK, I’ll take one for the team!” he declared loyally.
“Atta boy!” said Bambi.
“And if he gets too close to me,” threatened Drum, “I’ll give him both barrels. Is the plan clear?”
“Yes!” chorused the ponies. I half expected to see them give a high five, but being ponies, that was obviously out of the question.
“Er, Drum,” I interrupted.
“What?”
“Don’t you think that your plan, well, it’s sort of bullying.”
“Oh don’t start!” exclaimed Drummer. “Of course it’s bullying. You want the ride to work, don’t you?”
“Well, yes, but…” I trailed off.
“We’ve tried to appeal to his better nature by telling him what the ride’s in aid of, but stubborn Henry hasn’t got a better nature. He refuses to adopt any sort of team mentality. Clearly James can’t get forceful when Henry’s dear mommy, the ever-so-sweet-but-totally-ineffectual Mrs. B. is in the corner, believing the sun shines from under Henry’s tail, so we have to take action. If you’ve got any other ideas, now would be a good time to tell me about them. If not…”
I shook my head. No ideas.
“OK then!” continued Drummer firmly. “We agree that the RDA outweighs Henry’s feelings, and our plan goes forward. It’s not as though dear Henry is a shrinking violet and likely to be permanently damaged as a result of a few shoves here and there, is it?”
I shook my head again. It would take dynamite to damage Henry.
“Now you, Pia, have to wangle it so that Bluey and Tiff swap places. And you need to bring James up to speed so he can help. The whole plan now depends on you.”
“Oh!” I said. I could do that, surely? I nodded my head this time, which made a change.
Dismounting and handing Drum’s reins to Katy, I beckoned James over to the corner of the school (he left horrible Henry with Mrs. B. fussing over him) and explained about Drummer’s plan. “You need to make sure Henry can’t kick or bite the others,” I told him. “The ponies are going to rough Henry up a bit. We can’t afford any more accidents.”
James looked thoughtful. “You know, I would have a huge advantage if I knew what was coming and could hear what Henry and the other ponies were saying. Will you lend me You-know-who for a while?”
You-know-who was our highly unoriginal code name for Epona. With my little stone statue, James would have a one-up on Henry. It made sense.
“Of course,” I nodded, reaching into my pocket and wrapping my hand around Epona. Making sure James was between me and the rest of the team, so that no one could see the swap, I carefully handed her to James, who zipped her up into his jacket pocket.
“Thanks,” he said. “That should help. Henry won’t be so cocky when I can hear him and know what he’s planning!”
“Now I’ve got to get Sophie to swap Tiffany for Bluey,” I told him. “Bluey’s more Henry’s size so it will be an even match. You’ll be riding with Katy as your partner if all goes well.”
I marched over to Sophie, hoping my positive stance would help me persuade her. As it was, she didn’t need persuading.
“I think you’re right, Pia,” Sophie nodded. “Bluey and Henry would look better together, with the two mares, Dolly and Tiffany, bringing up the rear. We’ll try another run-through and hope that sorts things out. If not, I don’t know what we’re going to do. Honestly, this activity ride is turning into a nightmare. I’ve organized several of these, and this one has been the most difficult to get through. I’m beginning to wonder whether we’re just not meant to do it.”
“Oh, don’t say that!” I begged. “It’s really fun and everyone is enjoying it. Except for Henry!”
Bean was delighted to be swapping places with Katy. “Thank goodness,” she sighed, easing Tiffany along beside Dolly. “I’m fed up with James bossing me around.”
“Hummph!” Katy snorted. “He won’t boss me around!” She never would let James intimidate her. Bluey looked resigned, knowing he’d have more work to do in his new position.
Before I mounted Drummer, I whispered in his ear so he knew I couldn’t hear him. Everything was strangely silent. It was weird not being able to hear the ponies. I’d got so used to listening to their arguments and comments that, without Epona, it was as though I had lost one of my senses. And, in a way, I had.
Knowing what the ponies had planned, I could see exactly what they were doing. Henry didn’t stand a chance.
Every time the chunky black pony slowed down, Dolly bared her teeth and nipped the top of his tail. If Henry tried to kick out, James legged on like a madman, his teeth clenched in determination. Every time Henry tried to go too fast behind Drummer, I felt Drummer’s back come up as he threatened to kick him. Bluey kept him straight on one side so that James only had to concentrate on riding the other side of him, and with everyone working together, Henry, somehow, got through the routine. He even stood stock-still, sandwiched between a threatening Drum and Bluey so that James could perform his backward roll off him at the end, and we all stood in line in triumph. Henry looked mutinous, the other ponies like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths.
Success!
“Phew,” panted James, bent over double, his hands on his knees. “I’m exhausted.”
“Oh, James!” squealed Mrs. Bradley, rushing up and patting Henry’s furious face. “You were wonderful. My darling Henry is a star!”
Without Epona, I could only guess at Henry’s reply—and was rather glad, for once, that I couldn’t hear what he was saying.
It’s time to sort out what everyone will be wearing,”
Sophie declared, having called a meeting in the barn.
“Can we all dress up like cowboys?” asked Bean.
“No, Arab sheiks,” shrieked Dee, bouncing up and down on Dolly’s hay bale.
“Absolutely not!” said Sophie firmly. “We want to give the impression that we’re serious riders, not circus clowns.”
“Thank goodness!” said James, frowning.
“I really like costumes though,” mumbled Katy.
“Does everyone have a navy or black jacket?” Sophie asked.
“Yes,” chorused Dee, Bean, Cat, and Katy.
“My show jacket is gray,” I said. I’d bought it with my Sublime Equine Challenge prize money and loved it to bits.
“I only have a tweed one,” said James.
“OK, let’s think,” said Sophie, pursing her lips. “You don’t all have to wear black or navy, but I think it would look best if we matched in our pairs—so Cat and Pia need to have the same color jacket, so do James and Katy, and Dee and Bean. Both Dee and Bean have blue jackets, so that’s all figured out…”
“Leanne’s got a gray jacket,” said Cat. “I bet she’ll lend it to me for the extravaganza so that I match Pia.”
“That’s fantastic!” said Sophie. “Now we’ve just got to sort out Katy and James.”
“No problem,” sniffed Katy, grinning. “I’ve got a tweed jacket too. I can wear that. It’s probably a bit short in the arms, but it still fits for the most part. No worries.”
“Well, that was easy,” sighed Sophie. “Now we all need to wear a white shirt—you’ve all got white dress shirts, I take it—and the same color tie. I’ll get some. Cream, beige, or white riding pants—and do you want to wear short or long boots?”
“Long!” everyone yelled.
“OK, well, that was easier than I thought it would be. But I was thinking that for the ponies…”
“Won’t they just wear their saddles and bridles?” interrupted Bean.
“Of course,” agreed Sophie. “But I was thinking of leg bandages, just for the front legs. They always look great.”
“Let’s all have different colors,” said Cat. She would. She always wears lots of clashing colors together. “Or even a different colored cloth on each leg!”
“That’s going too far,” said James. “The different color idea is OK, but let each pony have the same color on their legs. We don’t want to look like clowns.”
“OK,” nodded Sophie, “different colors. Who wants what color? What color leg cloth do you all want?”
“Purple!” said Katy. Everyone groaned.
“We know that!” said Dee-Dee.
“I don’t care,” said James.
“I call green. Drummer looks cool in green,” I said.
“Blue,” said Bean.
“I call the yellow ones,” offered Cat.
“I could wear any color,” Dee told us.
“Good, I can borrow two of yours,” said James.
“Let’s recap,” said Sophie, counting on her fingers. “Bambi in yellow, Drummer in green, Bluey in purple—of course!—and Tiffany in blue. Dolly can wear pink, and how about Henry in red? That would work really well as all the pairs will tone nicely—yellow and green, red and purple, and blue and pink. Sounds great!”
“Henry will look ridiculous in leg cloths,” said James. “He has so much hair.”
“Not after tomorrow, he won’t,” Sophie told him darkly. “I’ve persuaded Mrs. B. to let me clip him. He’s having a hunter clip, and I’m taking off his feathers. I’m also looking forward to tackling that mane and tail with the pulling comb. You won’t recognize him tomorrow evening.”
“Thank goodness!” said Katy. “He was totally ruining the whole ride with his wild pony look.”
“I’ve got an idea,” said Bean.
“Let’s hear it, then,” Sophie said.
“If we’re all having different colored leg cloths, and you’re going to buy some ties, why don’t we match our ties to the bandages? So I’ll have a blue tie to match Tiffany’s legs.”
“That’s a perfect idea!” cried Katy. “And I already have a purple tie!”
“No? Really?” James asked sarcastically. Katy slapped his arm.
“Mmmm, that’s a good idea, Bean,” said Sophie. “It will lift the whole ride.”
“Won’t Bean look extra blue?” asked Cat. “Blue jacket, blue bandages, blue tie?”
Sophie frowned. “Yes, you will a little, Bean. What if you wore pink, instead?”
“Yuck, pink will look awful with Tiffany’s golden coat.”
“How about if you have the red and James has the pink?” asked Dee-Dee.
James shook his head. “I’ll tell you right now, I am absolutely not wearing pink!” he said firmly.
“OK, we’ve got some turquoise bandages. They would look better than blue and really lift Bean’s blue jacket. And the color will suit Tiffany,” said Sophie.
“That’s fine,” agreed Bean. “I like turquoise.”
That was settled. In fact, I thought, everything was settled. Moth’s substitute, the unwilling Henry, had knuckled down, accepting that he had little choice in the matter, and everyone knew what they were supposed to be doing, in what order, and when.
Every time we saddled the ponies for a practice, poor Moth gazed out of her stable longingly, neighing as we all clip-clopped our way to the school without her. She was getting better every day but was still lame. There was no way she could have done the ride—even if her cut healed by the weekend, we couldn’t chance the wound opening up again. And Henry was transformed by Sophie and her clippers: from chubby, hair-smothered black hillbilly look-alike to a sleek, clean-legged, chunky riding pony. His mane and tail were neatly pulled, revealing a small white star under his forelock. The hunter clip suited him, and with his beard clipped off, and his legs clean and featherless, he looked more like a miniature warm blood than the hairy Dales pony we were used to.
“Wow!” James said, when Sophie stripped Henry’s rugs off in a big reveal. “Is that my new charger?”
“Who’s that and what have you done with Henry?” Katy had snickered.
Mrs. Bradley had been almost speechless when she’d seen her darling Henry.
“Oh, Sophie,” she’d breathed. “He’s beautiful!”
“Humph,” Bean had snorted. “He’s still got a long way to go to earn that title!”
“She loves him,” I’d said. “It’s so nice.”
“I hope she’ll be able to ride him OK!” Bean had replied darkly, her eyebrows disappearing into her bangs. “He’ll be a bit livelier with his coat clipped off. Mrs. B. had better buy an exercise rug to keep him warm if she doesn’t want to have flying lessons.”
“Oh no, what if she can’t ride him and we’re responsible for her death-by-Henry?” I asked, suddenly worried.
“She’s survived this far,” Bean said, “so she must have a guardian angel looking after her.”
“One thing’s for sure,” I laughed. “Henry’s no guardian angel!”
“Maybe not,” mused Bean, “but he’s come to the rescue of our activity ride!”
A pony wants to be tucked in his stable on a freezing night like this, with his blanket, hay net full, and deep bed under hoof,” Drummer complained. “Not gallivanting about the countryside performing to people who should be sleeping in their own beds.”
“It is a bit cold,” I agreed, shoving my gloved hands deep into the pockets of my bright yellow down jacket. “But it’s a bit early for people to be in bed,” I added. “It’s only five o’clock—they’d more likely be watching the TV.”
“Whatever,” sighed Drummer.
He’d traveled to Taversham in Sophie’s luxury horse trailer, together with Dolly, Bambi, and Henry, with Dee, James, Cat, and me in Sophie’s motor home. I had heard Drum and Bambi whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears throughout the entire journey, which had bored Henry and made Dolly go all gaga. Truthfully, three miles from home I’d wished I could have put Epona somewhere else so I didn’t have to listen to them, but there wasn’t anywhere, so I had to listen to all the cooing and lovey-dovey nonsense. It was almost as bad as listening to my dad and Skinny Lynny when they got going. In other words, totally gross!
Henry had protested in the yard about loading, but Sophie already had a cunning plan involving a bucket of feed, and Henry’s greed got the better of him, allowing him to be enticed up the ramp. He’d spent the last few practices sullen and sulking, but nobody cared much. We just wanted everything to go as planned. Tiffany and Bluey had shared Katy’s trailer, and we’d left in a convoy, Bean and Katy in Katy’s dad’s car. We could see them in the motor home’s side mirrors as they followed us down the drive.
The worst thing had been leaving Moth behind. We could hear her neighing as we drove off, and we’d all felt awful for her. James stuck his fingers in his ears and screwed up his eyes—it was a hundred times worse for him, of course. It just didn’t seem the same without Moth.
