Midnight Mystery: 4 (Winnie the Horse Gentler) (14 page)

Bull stood up, but that was all he did.

Matthew squirmed. I eyed the crowd and spotted Summer, smirking. She whispered something to Brian.

“Um . . . back flip!” Barker repeated. When Bull didn’t respond, Barker stalled. He held up one finger, then combed his hair.

“We don’t have all night!” barked the ringmaster. “I thought you could train any dog to do any trick. What about that back flip?”

I couldn’t stand it. Poor Barker. And the Colonel wasn’t helping.

Barker held up one finger, then bent to tie his shoelaces.

Bull came to life—at least for Bull. He trotted straight over to Barker and halfheartedly jumped up on him. The second Bull’s paws hit Barker’s legs, Eddy Barker stumbled and flipped Bull and himself over backwards in a perfect back flip.

“Back flip,” Catman muttered.

“Way to go, Bull!” Matthew yelled.

“I’ll be a monkey’s uncle! No offense!” Pat exclaimed.

The crowd roared with laughter. I saw Brian clapping like crazy. Summer did her sissy two-fingers-on-palm clap.

Ramon and Midnight’s act was next. As the crowd still roared with cheers for Barker the Master Dog Trainer, I got quiet, tuned out everything, and talked to God.
Please don’t let anything bad happen to Midnight or Ramon. Keep them safe.

I knew Lizzy would have said a lot more and said it better. But I loved the way God let me talk to him in the middle of a noisy circus. It felt like ducking under the corner gable in the middle of a rainstorm. Lizzy’s storm verse popped into my head, the part about God being a refuge, a safe place to be even when the mountains were crumbling and the oceans roaring.

Catman and I moved down to watch ringside. Midnight galloped past us and into the ring as the Colonel asked the crowd to welcome “Ramon and his trick horse, Midnight Mystery.”

For this act, Ramon wore a hidden microphone to interact with the audience. The stallion bowed, and Ramon dismounted. “Midnight, are you happy to see all these people?” he asked, as he did every performance.

But instead of the usual head-bob yes, Midnight shook his head no.

Ramon shifted his weight like a nervous American Saddle Horse. “Now Midnight, I think you misunderstood me.” He went to his next question. “Is there any place in the world you’d rather be?”

Instead of answering
no,
Midnight bobbed
yes.

“Something’s wrong!” I told Catman.

“Tell the people how old you are, Midnight!” Ramon commanded.

But instead of pawing the ground, Midnight lay down.

Scattered laughter spread through the audience. I wanted to do something, but I couldn’t think of any way to help.

Ramon got Midnight to his feet and tried again. But trick after trick got mixed up. Midnight missed every cue, and the spectators were laughing
at
Ramon, not with him.

Finally, the Colonel brought an end to the misery. “How about a hand for the independent thinker, Midnight Mystery!”

The crowd clapped politely, and Ramon, his face bright red, rode out of the ring.

“Catman,” I said, trying to hold back my anger, “you know somebody’s been messing with Midnight! He never would have missed all those cues on his own. Someone had to retrain him.”

I remembered something Lizzy had told me Matthew Barker did once to his little brother William. Mrs. Barker had taught William the names of things like nose, mouth, ear. Then Matthew secretly
untrained
his brother. So one day when his mother asked, “William, where’s your nose?” William pointed to his mouth. When she asked for “eye,” he pointed to his nose. Matthew had been grounded until he got William straightened out again.

“That’s it! Somebody taught Midnight the wrong cues!” I kicked the dirt in frustration. “Two days ago I would have been convinced that Gabrielle LeBlond was behind this.”

“Not now?” Catman asked.

“Well, of course not now! Gabrielle was a victim too. Remember? Somebody cut her surcingle. You saw it yourself.” And Catman thought he was such a great detective!

He crooked his head for me to follow him. We were heading to the menagerie tent, but Catman couldn’t just pass by the lion cages. He stopped and communed with his feline friends so long I almost went back to the Big Top. Finally he pulled himself away, and we slipped inside the animal tent.

He led me back to where the LeBlonds kept their tack. Gabrielle and her parents were back in the Big Top doing their acts, and we were the only humans there. Catman took down a white surcingle from a hook. The belt had been used, but it looked fairly new.

I shrugged. “So what? She got a new surcingle since hers was cut.”

Catman patted my head. “Flash that photo of Gabrielle’s
accident.”

“I’ve told you, Catman! Photographic memory doesn’t work that way. I can’t control—!” I stopped because for one of the rare times, a mental picture was coming when I really wanted it to. It was fuzzy, not perfect like the photos usually are. And it wasn’t the broken surcingle or the accident. It was Gabrielle
before
the accident, showing her surcingle to Catman and me and bragging how
she
could perform without a saddle. But the surcingle in her hands had been
this
new-looking one, not the worn one Catman had picked up after Gabrielle’s accident!

“Catman, why would Gabrielle practice with a new surcingle and perform with an old one? Unless she knew something was going to happen to it. . . .
She
did it herself!
She
cut the surcingle! She didn’t want to ruin her good one, so she cut that old one! Gabrielle LeBlond faked her own accident!”

“Boy, did I underestimate Gabrielle!” I cried. “She’s meaner than Summer and twice as sneaky!” I stormed out of the menagerie tent and into the crowds pouring down the midway. The circus must have ended. “Hurry, Catman! We have to tell the Colonel!”

“Whoa!”

I stomped back to Catman. “Whoa? But Gabrielle might get away! We have to tell the Colonel—!”

“Chill, Winnie. I’ll handle it.”

“But—,” I started to protest. I wanted to settle everything right then and there. I wanted to see the look on Gabrielle’s face when she found out we were onto her. But a lot of people were about to be hurt. Ramon and the Colonel both liked Gabrielle. And Gabrielle’s parents? They’d be upset, too.

Maybe Catman was right. The Colonel was
his
great-grandfather, after all. He’d be the best one to break the news to him. Besides, it was late. I needed to get Nickers home. I longed to get her out of the circus and safe in her own barn.

“Okay, Catman. You handle it. I’m just glad we solved this thing before Ramon’s big break.” Now Ramon could forget about everything except the Clyde Beatty Cole Brothers Circus and putting on the cossack performance of his life.

Friday morning I woke up under a blanket of sadness. It was Mom’s birthday. But she wasn’t here. And neither was Dad. Lizzy tiptoed around the bedroom, getting ready for her writing competition trip, and I tried to go back to sleep. Being awake hurt too much.

I feel homesick, God,
I prayed, snuggling up to Bumby, who purred on my pillow, his giant paws hanging off the edge.
I feel like a little kid who wants her mommy and daddy. Why can’t things be like they used to be?

I guess I did fall back to sleep because when I woke up again sunshine filled the room and Lizzy wasn’t in it. She’d left me a note on the dresser:

Winnie, we’ll celebrate Mom’s birthday as soon as Dad gets back from Chicago. Try to have a good day. God loves you, and so do I!!! Lizzy

I got dressed and trudged downstairs.

On the kitchen table sat a big cake. On the top of it Lizzy had written Mom’s verse in bright green frosting:
Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

Pictures of Mom and her other birthday cakes flooded my brain. But the kitchen was empty. The whole world seemed empty. And yesterday, today, and forever felt anything but “the same.”

Bart Coolidge came thundering into the kitchen. “Sa-a-ay! Cake for breakfast? I’ll get the tomato juice—Ohio’s state drink! That reminds me of a joke!”

As I walked to the barn early that afternoon, the sky clouded in scallops, as if practicing for snow. Nickers was as ready for a ride as I was. She nickered and pawed the dirt until I slipped on a hackamore and swung up bareback. I hugged her neck, smelling the clean horse scent, the pasture, and the earth. “Let’s ride, girl.”

We trotted out of town, cantered down country lanes, galloped on dirt paths. It felt as if we were the same being. Everything else disappeared. Every thought slipped from my mind, leaving nothing but the drum of hoofbeats and a sense of floating through time.

When we finally came back to the barn, Catman was waiting for us. “Almost time to split!” he called.

“You’re kidding!” I called back. “What about Hawk?”

“Hawk’s mom is driving Towaco.” Catman pulled out a lunch bag.

Neither of Hawk’s parents had made it to the circus the night before. I’d caught Hawk scanning the crowds for them all night. I was glad her mom was coming tonight.

Catman handed me a baloney sandwich when I dismounted. “The Colonel’s invited us to the Kool-Aid toast.”

I bit into the sandwich, suddenly realizing I was starving. “At the Colonel’s soldier reunion?” I felt honored . . . and a little scared.

“Right-on!” He picked up Burg and Moggie, two of his cats who must have followed him from home.

I picked up the brush and started in on Nickers’ chest. “So how did the Colonel take it when you told him Gabrielle was the one sabotaging the circus?”

“Didn’t,” he answered.

“He didn’t take it?”

“I didn’t tell him.”

“But you promised!” I shouted.

“I said I’d handle it,” Catman reminded me. “I am.”

“Catman!” I couldn’t believe it. Calvin Catman Coolidge had chickened out! I should have done it myself. But I never in my wildest dreams thought he’d back out.