Blue Ribbon Blues (3 page)

They found Aunt Sally’s goat standing on its hind legs under a tree. Its front hooves pawed at the trunk, ripping bark.

Tooter forgot her own fear. She helped Aunt Sally bring the goat’s front feet down. The poor thing’s eyes were bulging with terror. It was trembling in her hands. She petted it. She talked to it. “It’s okay … it’s okay. The coyote is gone. You’re safe.”

She led the goat back to the barnyard. She discovered she didn’t want to leave it.

“Aunt Sally,” she said, “what’s the goat’s name?”

Aunt Sally scratched her ear. “Guess it don’t rightly have a name. I usually just call it ‘hey you.’ ”

Tooter stepped back to look the goat over. It was the color of dirty white socks before they went into the washer. She was thinking of naming it “Socks” when suddenly she burped. And the burp tasted like last night’s pizza.

“I got it!” she cried. She leaned in nose to nose with the goat. “Pepperoni!”

Aunt Sally nodded. “Pepperoni Pepperday. I like it.”

Now that Tooter had named the goat, she felt closer to it. She put her arm around its neck. “This is a nice goat,” she said.

“A fine goat,” said Aunt Sally.

“A very fine goat,” said Tooter.

“Too bad nobody else ever gets to see her,” said Aunt Sally. “Stuck away in this here barnyard.”

Tooter looked at Aunt Sally. Aunt Sally was grinning. Tooter said, “I know what you’re thinking.”

Aunt Sally looked surprised. “And just
what
am I thinking?”

Tooter pointed at her aunt.

“
You
think I want to show Pepperoni at the county fair.”

“Well, bumble my bees,” said Aunt Sally. “A mind reader. Anything else?”

Tooter put her hands on her hips. “And you’re going to help me.”

Aunt Sally saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

That afternoon they stood in front of Pepperoni.

“Now this,” said Aunt Sally, “is a goat.”

Tooter laughed. “I know.”

“You also have to know the parts of your goat,” said Aunt Sally. “You’ll be tested at the show.”

“No problem,” said Tooter. “I already know the parts.” She pointed. “Legs. Tail. Mouth. Nose. Ears. Udder.”

Aunt Sally nodded. “Very good. Now where are the wattles?”

Tooter stared at Aunt Sally. “Wattles? What’re wattles?”

“You tell me,” said Aunt Sally.

Tooter looked over the goat. She whispered in its ear. “Pepperoni, where’re your wattles?”

Pepperoni didn’t answer.

Tooter stepped back. Frowning, she studied the animal. “Okay,” she said. “I give up. Where’re the wattles?”

Aunt Sally pointed to two furry flaps of skin, one on each of Pepperoni’s cheeks. She grinned. “Wattles.”

A bicycle came around the barn and clattered through the dust. It was Jack Hafer.

“What’s he doing here?” said Tooter.

“He’s the real goat expert,” said Aunt Sally. “He won the blue ribbon last year. I asked him to come over and teach you how to show your goat.”

When Jack came near, Tooter grabbed his
cheek and shook it. “Wattle!” she declared.

Jack did the same thing to Tooter. “Wattle yourself.”

Aunt Sally laughed. “Well, it beats shaking hands.”

“My goat has a name now,” Tooter said. “It’s Pepperoni.”

“Pepperoni?” said Jack. “What kind of name is that?”

Tooter ignored the question. “And Pepperoni is going to be in the goat show. And she’s going to win the blue ribbon.”

Jack laughed. “
Your
goat is going to beat
my
goat? I don’t think so.”

“Not only that,” said Aunt Sally, “but you are going to teach Tooter how to show her goat.”

“But, Miss Sally,” said Jack, “why should I help somebody else beat my own goat?”

“Because you want your new neighbor to be a fine farmer, just like yourself,” said Aunt Sally.

Tooter batted her eyelashes. “And because I’m so nice.”

Aunt Sally clapped her hands. “Okay, you two. Get down to work. I’ve got honey to pour.” She handed the goat over to Jack
and headed for the honey house.

“Guess what?” Tooter said to Jack. “A coyote ate one of our chickens.”

Jack shook his head grimly. “Here too, huh? Last week it got one of my rabbits.”

“Aunt Sally says they don’t go after kids.”

“I sure hope not,” said Jack.

Tooter had had enough talk of coyotes. “So,” she said, “are you going to teach me how to show my goat?”

Jack shrugged. “Why not? I can teach you all Miss Sally wants, but your goat will never beat my goat.”

Tooter whispered in Pepperoni’s ear. “Hear that, Pep? Are you gonna let him say that to you? Let’s show him who’s the best goat around here.”

Jack just shook his head. “Can we begin now?”

Tooter stood at attention. She saluted. “Yes,
sir
.”

Jack pulled Pepperoni along by the yellow plastic rope around her neck. “This is how you walk the goat.” He led the goat in a circle. “Walk slow, like this.”

“What if my goat wants to walk fast?” Tooter asked.

“Make her walk slow,” said Jack. “Show her who’s boss.”

Tooter wagged a finger in Pepperoni’s face. “Hear that, Pep? I’m the boss.”

Jack went on. “Keep her head steady, close to you.”

“Close to me?” said Tooter. “How close is close? What if she sneezes on me?”

Jack groaned. “She won’t.”

“But what if she
does?
” Tooter insisted. “Should I bring a hankie?”

Jack glared at her. “Yes,
yes
. Bring a
hankie. Bring
ten
hankies. Now can I continue?”

Tooter curtsied. “Be my guest.”

“Okay,” said Jack. “You’re walking slow. See? You’re keeping her head close to you. And steady. And don’t pull her head down.
Keep it high.”

“Why?” said Tooter.

“Because you’re supposed to look proper,” said Jack.

Tooter walked around with her nose in the air. “This isn’t proper. This is snooty.”

“Whatever,” said Jack. “And don’t look at the goat.”

“Don’t look?” Tooter screeched. “What kind of rule is that?”

Jack said, “How do I know? It’s a rule, so just obey it.”

“But what if Pepperoni looks at me?”

“She won’t.”

“But what if she
does?
Am I supposed to ignore my own goat? That’s rude.”

Jack faced the honey house. “Miss Sally!” he called. “Your niece is being silly! She won’t listen!”

“He’s being grouchy!” Tooter added.

Aunt Sally’s voice came from the honey house. “Be nice!”

Tooter wagged her finger in Jack’s face. “See? Be nice.”

Jack bit his lip. He took a deep breath and went on with the lesson. He showed
Tooter how to stand the goat for the judge’s inspection. “Front and back legs apart,” he said. “Form a perfect rectangle.”

“I like triangles,” said Tooter.

“Fine,” growled Jack. “Then get yourself a three-legged goat.”

Tooter laughed. “Hey, that was a good one. You’re a funny farmer, Jack.”

“I’m a blue-ribbon farmer too,” Jack shot back.

Tooter poked him in the arm. “We’ll see about that.”

After Jack left, Tooter found her father at his computer. “Working on your story about the girl who moves to a farm?” she said.

“Yep.”

“Do you have it all figured out yet?”

“I can always use a good idea.” He looked up at her. “Know anybody who has one?”

Tooter grinned. “Mmm, I might.” She sat on his desk. “How about this? The girl has a goat. She names it Pepperoni.”

“Why not Baloney or Salami?”

“Dad, be serious.”

“Sorry.”

“Okay. So, she meets this boy from the farm next door. And he’s supposed to be a real hotshot. His goat wins the blue ribbon every year at the county fair. And he’s grouchy to the girl, even though she’s really, really nice to him. And so she decides to teach him a lesson. She enters
her
goat in the county fair. And”—Tooter clapped her hands—“she wins the blue ribbon!”

Mr. Pepperday nodded. “Sounds good,” he said. “But I think one thing is missing.”

“What’s that?” said Tooter.

Mr. Pepperday scrolled down to a blank screen. He tapped on the keyboard. Two words appeared on the screen:

“Right, Dad,” said Tooter. “I didn’t forget. It
just slipped my mind. Here, I’ll help you out.” She climbed onto his lap. Searching the keys letter by letter, she tapped out a paragraph:

She hopped off her father’s lap. “Okay, Dad, you can take it from there.”

Tooter went outside. As she walked through the barnyard, she couldn’t tell which chicken was Eggbert. They all looked alike. And all of them ignored her.

But not Pepperoni. Seeing her coming, the
goat walked over to meet her. Tooter stroked her high, bony nose. She waggled her wattles. She looked into the goat’s yellow, slotted eyes, so different from her own. Pepperoni ate some grass from her hand.

She whispered, “We’re pals, aren’t we, Pep?”

Pepperoni seemed to nod.

“And we’re going to work hard and win that blue ribbon, aren’t we?”

She put her ear to Pepperoni’s mouth. She thought she heard the goat say
yes.

Just then Chuckie and Harvey came running over. Chuckie was holding a book. He handed it to her. “Aunt Sally says you’re supposed to study this. It’s about goat parts.”

Chuckie and Harvey ran off.

Tooter opened the book. On one page she found a drawing. It showed the parts of a goat.

“Okay, Pep,” said Tooter. “These are your
pin bones.” She pointed to spots on either side of Pepperoni’s tail. She spoke clearly and slowly into Pepperoni’s ear. She figured her goat should learn her own parts.

“And this is your dewclaw.” She pointed to a spot just above Pepperoni’s hoof. “That’s a funny one,” she said to herself. “Wonder if I have one of those.” She pulled up her pants leg and pulled down her sock. “Nope,” she said. “Just the old anklebone.”