Pony Rebellion, page 7
“Um, Mia…er, Pia…” began Cat.
I stopped and turned around, ready for the usual Cat-like abuse.
“Would you ask Bambi why she doesn’t want to do the activity ride too?” Cat continued. She didn’t look me in the eye.
I almost fell over with shock. Was I hearing right? Did Cat just ask me to talk to her pony? Did she just acknowledge that I might, just might, be able to talk to and hear what horses and ponies were saying?
I so wanted to say something sarcastic, but this was a big thing. I was desperate not to be Cat’s enemy anymore. I was totally fed up with it, so worn out by all the snide remarks and worrying about whether she was going to be at the yard when I was, and how things would be when she was. This was a chance I was desperate to take. So I didn’t just take it, I grabbed it!
“Of course, I’ll ask her now if you like,” I said, nodding furiously.
“Oh no, tomorrow will do,” Cat said casually. She knew Bean was waiting for me, and I was sure she didn’t want anyone else to witness her comedown. Which was understandable after she’d given me such a hard time for so long.
“And only if you get a minute. Don’t go out of your way or anything,” Cat told me, suddenly ultra-casual. She fiddled with Bambi’s saddle so she wouldn’t have to look me in the eye.
“I’d be happy to do it,” I assured her, smiling.
Cat almost smiled back. Not quite. She couldn’t quite manage it.
Maybe that is asking too much, I thought. It wasn’t as though we were friends or anything. I just hoped that this was a turning point. If we couldn’t exactly be friends, we could, perhaps, not be enemies anymore.
I’d settle for that, I decided. We couldn’t expect to be great at the activity ride until we’d had a few practices. It would take more than a few practices at talking to each other for Cat and I to progress beyond hostilities. I wondered just how many practices it would take. And whether we’d ever get it right.
When I got to the yard the next day after school, everyone was waiting for me. Even Declan, parts of him looking out, over, and through a big woolen sweater he had on, held around him with three leather belts—although I wasn’t the reason he’d turned up, obviously.
“Finally!” exclaimed Dee-Dee as I pedaled past the tack room. “Hurry up, we can’t wait to hear what the other ponies have to say about their strike.”
“Mmmm,” I said, propping my bike up against the tack room wall and switching off the lights. “I’ve been thinking about how to tackle them, and it might be best if I ask them one at a time.”
“Good idea!” said James. “Then they won’t be able to back up one another.”
“Start with Bluey,” suggested Katy. “At least he’s on our side.”
Bluey, it turned out, wasn’t on anyone’s side.
“Oh, don’t ask me about it, please,” he said, turning around and looking at the wall when I went into his stable. Epona was safely tucked inside my riding vest, as always. I wrapped my hand around her as I confronted Bluey.
“But we know the other ponies are deliberately messing up and sabotaging the ride,” I explained. “Just tell us your opinion. No pressure—we know you’re not involved.”
“It doesn’t really make any difference whether I am or not,” Bluey said miserably. “The others are so determined not to do it. They’re fed up with the practices, and they’re giving me grief for not siding with them.”
“Is this activity ride really so bad?” I asked him.
Katy shoved her head around Bluey’s door. “What’s the verdict?” she whispered.
“She must know I can hear her,” sighed Bluey. “Why is she asking you?”
“I don’t know,” I said, turning to Katy. “Go away, I don’t know enough yet.”
“Oh, OK,” said Katy, vanishing back into the darkness.
“So are the practices so terrible?” I asked again. “We make sure you all get plenty of rest, don’t we?”
“Yes, you do. They’re not hard work—but the others say they’re boring. They can’t see the point of repeating the same work over and over again.”
“But if we don’t, we’ll never get better,” I explained. “They have to see that.”
“They just say it’s boring, and they don’t want to do it anymore,” Bluey repeated. “No point,” he added. “And someone said that if we do this, who knows what other activities you’ll think up for them to do. They said best to nip it in the bud right now.”
“Well, we appreciate your support,” I said.
“The other ponies don’t,” he muttered, and went back to eating his hay.
I told the others.
“We knew that already,” said James shortly.
“Ask the others,” Dee said impatiently.
I talked to Dolly. She told me the prospect of practices between now and Christmas were daunting and not what she was used to. Unlike Dee, Dolly loved her showbiz life and lived for lessons and the shows. I spoke to Tiffany. Same story, although she wasn’t very happy with the rebellion, as she called it. She said she was just going along with the others. It was a waste of time talking to Moth as she never replied, but I slipped into Bambi’s stable to get her take on it—to everyone else’s amazement. I felt really excited—I hardly ever speak to Bambi due to my relationship with Catriona.
“Hi!” I began. Bambi looked up from where she’d been nosing around in her bed searching for dropped hay. “Cat asked me to talk to you,” I explained.
“Don’t think so,” Bambi replied, dropping her nose into her straw again.
“Really, she did,” I continued. “Er, it’s about the activity ride.”
“What about it?” asked Bambi, not bothering to look up again.
“We know you’re all doing your best to wreck it so that you don’t have to practice anymore.”
“Yeah, well, that just about explains it,” she said, rustling around. “We’re putting our hooves down. You guys are being ridiculous—all that rushing around. It’s got to stop. So we’re stopping it. Don’t try to talk us out of it. We’re all of the same mind.”
“Except for Bluey,” I pointed out.
“Oh yeah, well, Bluey was never going to be up for it, we knew that,” Bambi said.
“Tiffany’s not into it either,” I said.
“The majority rules,” Bambi told me firmly.
I reported back, emphasizing the way all the ponies, bar Bluey and part of Tiffany, were united, so that Cat wasn’t offended. She seemed to believe me—a major breakthrough, I thought. Of course, she didn’t say much, what with the others there.
“Well, that hasn’t been very helpful,” said Dee, puffing out her cheeks and looking despondent.
“Not that it’s your fault, Pia,” added Katy. She and Bluey were so alike. Bean and Tiffany were quite similar too, I thought, and Cat and Bambi. The worrying possibility that I might be like Drummer slammed into my mind. I threw it out again, pronto. I couldn’t face that right now.
“So what do we do?” asked James, frowning. “We can’t put on an activity ride if the ponies don’t cooperate.”
“I still can’t believe they’re being so scheming,” said Cat.
“I can’t believe you all can’t control your own ponies,” said Dec, scrolling through his cell phone. “I thought you were in charge of Bam-Bam, Cat, not the other way around.”
“Don’t call her that!” screamed Cat.
“That’s what Aunt Pam calls her,” Dec replied sullenly.
“Just shut up!” Cat hissed.
“We can’t tell your mom,” Bean said to Dee. “She’ll go crazy!”
Bean was right. I didn’t think Sophie would be that sympathetic to the ponies going on strike.
“She’s almost resigned to the ride being canceled anyway, after the awful practices we’ve been having,” moaned Dee.
“Oh, but I really want to do it!” wailed Katy.
Everyone agreed. It was a total disappointment. We’d all been looking forward to our performance, particularly as we were getting confident at the various moves. I was particularly proud of my backward roll dismount, and I was actually remembering where to go, most of the time. It seemed it had all been for nothing.
“Well, maybe they’ll have a change of heart tonight,” Katy said, ever the optimist.
“Don’t count on it,” I replied.
We tacked up in gloomy silence. I could hear Bambi and Moth, in their stables on either side of Drummer’s, being scolded by Cat and James, but I didn’t think it would have any effect. I couldn’t speak to Drummer, I was so disappointed with him. Knowing he was in the dog house, he didn’t say much to me either. It was like it had been before Epona came into our lives. It felt weird. It felt horrible. The practice was even worse than yesterday’s, and at the end Sophie shrugged her shoulders.
“This is so disappointing—I thought you were really getting the hang of the movements, but I’m going to have to put a deadline on you all. If you’re no better by tomorrow’s practice I will have to tell Linda we’re just not up to it. Maybe we can try again next year—if she puts on another extravaganza, that is.”
Nobody said anything. Nobody could explain to Sophie as it would seem as though we were tattling on the ponies—or blaming them for our bad riding. I didn’t know which would be worse.
“I was so enjoying doing something different with Dolly,” Dee moaned as we rode back to the yard. The ponies had all perked up and were walking with a spring in their step. They’d got what they’d wanted—victory was theirs.
I made Drummer comfortable for the night. The air was heavy with words unsaid. What could either of us say? Nothing would change things now. Silence hung in the air like a fog, and Drummer, far from acting cocky as I’d expected him to, just kept quiet. I bolted his door and hung his tack on his pegs next to Tiffany’s tack. One by one the others drifted in and put their tack away. The mood was one of gloom, gloom, and more gloom.
“Oh well,” sighed Katy. I waited for her to continue, but she didn’t.
James appeared, and he was in a really bad mood. He threw Moth’s saddle on its peg. He was mad enough to grasp a corner of the top rug on a pile Twiddles snoozed on and tweak it abruptly with a jerk, causing the tabby to awaken with a start, his green eyes wide with fury as he tumbled to the concrete floor, landing on his feet—of course.
“James!” shouted Katy, dodging quickly out of the furious cat’s way. “What are you doing? He’ll just go for the person he’s closest to!”
“He’s got too much power, that cat!” James said, but I noticed that he stepped to one side as Twiddles, mustering as much dignity as he could, sauntered out past him into the yard and headed off for the barn where bales of hay beckoned for him to sit on undisturbed.
“Don’t let Mrs. C. see you mistreating her favorite feline,” warned Dee. “You’ll be in so much trouble.”
“I can’t believe Bambi would do this to me,” murmured Cat. I hoped she wasn’t going to start on again about me not being a Pony Whisperer, just because she didn’t want to face up to her pony being mutinous. This crisis seemed at least to have put her feud with me on hold. Could the truce possibly be permanent? I hoped so.
“There has to be a way to win the ponies back,” said Bean, heaving herself up onto the rug pile vacated by Twiddles. “There just has to be. Oh, this is nice,” she added, patting the rug. “It’s still warm.”
“Well, come up with it, then!” said James, still fuming.
“You’ll get cat hairs on your butt,” Dee told Bean.
“She’s only trying to help,” Declan said, defending Bean and glaring at James. James didn’t bother to reply.
“Getting moody won’t solve anything,” I said.
“Pia’s right,” Katy agreed. “And so is Bean. There has to be a way to get the ponies wanting to do this activity ride. And I vote we all put our thinking caps on, instead of being mean to Twiddles and getting all angry with one another, and come up with some ideas.”
“Katy’s got a good point,” said Cat. “It’s better to do something rather than just give up and moan all the time.”
“OK then, we’ll meet here tomorrow evening an hour before practice and share ideas,” Katy said firmly, meeting everyone’s eyes so no one thought she didn’t include them. “And everyone has to have at least one idea to get the ponies on our side. Agreed?”
“One idea each?” asked Dee, looking doubtful.
“Yes,” said Katy. “And séances don’t count,” she added as Dee opened her mouth. Dee closed it again, having been headed off at the pass.
“No exceptions. OK?” Katy said, looking at us all.
Everyone agreed, including James. Even Declan nodded—between snatching glances at Bean.
“But if we can’t think of anything,” James said, unwilling to let Katy have the last word, “and the ponies still refuse to do the activity ride, we’re pretty powerless.”
He was right, of course. If we didn’t get our act together in time for tomorrow’s practice, Sophie would call the whole thing off. Without a breathtaking, fabulous, mega, totally workable, pony-friendly, world-ending plan to end all plans, the ponies would stay on strike.
And there wasn’t a thing we could do about it.
OK, let’s hear your ideas,” ordered Katy as we all huddled together in her part of the barn. It was totally different to Bean’s corner—Katy’s hay was stacked neatly, Bluey’s purple turnout rug hung on a rack her dad had made her for it, and neat plastic trash cans held Bluey’s feed safe from rats. His purple head collar swung neatly from a peg, the rope wound correctly, next to three filled hay nets. Bean and I sat on a bale of hay, Dee and Cat were sitting on upturned buckets and James had hoisted himself onto one of the plastic trash cans. Declan positioned himself next to James because from there he had the best view of Bean. Katy stood in the middle. She had taken charge of the situation and wasn’t relinquishing it to anyone.
“Who’s first?” Katy looked around at us.
“I vote we get tough,” said Cat firmly. “We can’t have the ponies dictating to us like this. We’ll just have to force them to do it.”
“How?” asked James.
Silence. No one liked the idea of being horrible to their pony. I knew Cat wouldn’t get tough with Bambi either, for all her fighting talk.
“We can’t force them not to knock the jumps down, or run out, or do any of the things they’ve been doing to sabotage the ride,” Katy pointed out. “It just won’t work. What’s your idea, Dee?”
“Oh don’t ask me. I’ve been awake all night thinking and thinking and thinking. I almost fell asleep in math class today and again in media studies. The only reason I’m not in detention is because I said I didn’t feel well.”
“So you don’t have an idea?” asked James, with an edge to his voice.
“Only that we could do a séance…”
There were cries all around as everyone despaired.
“It worked last time!” Dee insisted.
“What last time?” asked Cat angrily. No one told her.
“How about you, James,” said Katy, eager to move things on and away from séance talk. “Tell us your idea.”
“Well, I got to thinking about how Moth had been treated before I got her,” James began, “and I wondered whether we could work on the equine guilt-trip thing.”
“Explain,” demanded Katy.
“Oh, you know, tell the ponies how good they’ve got it with us, not having to work all day, or pull carts in Cairo without being given a drink, or lugging bricks around the brick kilns in India, you know how some poor equines have it so tough in other countries. Our ponies just eat, sleep, go out in the field, and all we ask in return is for some cooperation in the form of this activity ride. It isn’t exactly much to ask, is it?”
“That might work,” said Cat, nodding.
“I don’t know,” I said doubtfully. Drummer was always going on about how much work I gave him—although I didn’t think an average of an hour a day was exactly taxing, he seemed to think it was.
“Well, what’s your idea, then?” said Cat huffily—like I’d rained on her parade when actually it had been James’s idea.
“I could only think that Drummer is so motivated by food, it might work to put a hold on treats until the ponies help us out,” I said. It sounded lame, I knew. It didn’t sound particularly nice either, but I was really upset with Drum.
“We’ll add that to the list,” said Katy, not over enthusiastic about it. “Bean?”
“Yes?” answered Bean, looking up.
We waited. Nothing happened.
“Your idea?” continued Katy, raising her eyebrows.
“My what? Oh, oh my idea! Oh yes. Well, I just thought, I mean, it isn’t a very good idea, and I haven’t really thought it through or anything, but it might just work, I mean if no one else has anything better, or if we’ve tried everything else, it could just, possibly, if we timed it right and thought about how to put it. I mean, it could work. Maybe.”
“What could?” I asked.
“My idea,” said Bean.
“What. Is. It?” asked James very slowly.
Bean gave a start. “Oh, well I just thought, I mean, I wondered…”
“Just say it, Bean, for goodness’, sake!” yelled Cat. “We’re all considerably older now than we were before you started, and we still don’t know what your idea is. So tell us!”
“OK, OK, hold your horses! Jeez!” moaned Bean. “My idea…” Everyone leaned forward, and I heard James hiss that it had better be good. “Is that we appeal to the ponies’ better nature.”
