Team Challenge (4 page)

“You are so feeble.” He yawned.

“Yeah, well, I’d like to see you do any better with your hooves!” I told him, turning for home.

When we got back to the yard, Catriona had gone riding with Leanne, but luckily, James was still around.

“I’ve just found something very strange in the woods by the lake—” I began.

James held up his hand to stop me. “Grassy hill with a door in it? Looks like a hobbit house?”

“Yes!” I cried. “That’s exactly what it looks like. It’s not a hobbit house, is it?”

“No, it’s an old icehouse,” James replied. “When the big house was here, centuries ago, the people stored ice from the lake in the winter to use in the summer. Built into the ground it stayed cold, and the ice stayed frozen for months.”

“Wow! I couldn’t open the door.”

“Oh, I’ve been in it. It falls away to a huge, dark hole, and you can’t see the bottom of it. It’s kinda cool.”

It didn’t sound cool. I was glad the door hadn’t yielded.

“How come you know about it?”

“Most of us do—but I think we’re the only ones, being as we ride around there. No one seems to care about it. If the city knew it was there I expect they’d think it was dangerous and probably board it up or fill it in.”

“Are there any other strange and ancient buildings or things around here I should know about?” I asked him. I was intrigued by the icehouse. It was really spooky. I imagined servants cutting blocks of ice from the frozen lake, loading it onto wagons, and packing it into the icehouse. How cool was that? Oh, actually, that’s pretty funny. I’ll have to remember that one.

“Oh, probably,” said James. “This yard was the farmyard for the same house. The work horses would have been stabled here. The riding and carriage horses would have lived at the coach house.”

“Oh, where’s that? Can you show me?” I thought an old coach house sounded wonderful. I loved the way the surrounding countryside held such historic secrets.

“No. It’s gone. No one can see it. The land”—James paused dramatically—“has reclaimed it.”

I had other matters of concern.

“I can’t imagine what I can do for this wild card event,” I moaned. James threw Moth’s old water away on the grass behind her stable and sat on the upturned bucket.

“Well, let’s think of something. What can you do that no one else can?”

“Nothing,” I replied, miserably, flopping down next to him. “I’m hopeless at thinking things up.”

“So do you have any ideas? I can’t think of anything!”

“Well…something did occur to me. You could do something like the dog people do,” mused James.

“What—agility? I can’t see Drummer galloping through a cloth tunnel or weaving in and out of poles.”

“No, not agility. What do they call it? Doggie dancing. You know, they put a routine together with music. You and Drum could do that. It would be different.”

I thought hard. I’d seen people dancing with their dogs on the television. It looked fun. I could make us both costumes. We could have music. I’d always imagined myself in showbiz.

“That might work…” I began. “But I’d need a theme and music.” I felt excited and my spirits lifted a bit. But then they plummeted again: I’d forgotten one thing. The most important thing. I was going to have to sell it to Drummer. I decided I’d defer that until I’d got a bit further with the routine idea. No need to get him into negative mode just yet. I’d wait until I had it all planned out in my head.

The next day, at breakfast, I had to suffer the account of Mom’s date with the latest man in her life.

“What a nice man!” Mom said, struggling to open a carton of orange juice. I took a deep breath—I’d heard that before. Most of Mom’s dates start off that way. By the fourth or fifth date, they begin to show their true colors and words like nice are replaced with
weirdo, letch,
and
creep.
I always looked forward to the novelty wearing off.

“He was charming and very funny. I think you’re going to like him, Pia.”

“It sounds as though you do,” I said, digging into some toast and jam. “Mom, can I talk to you about this Sublime Equine Challenge?”

“Of course. I was telling Greg about that last night…”

“I’ve decided to do a dance-type routine with Drummer, you know, like they do with the dogs at Westminster.”

“That sounds tricky. Are you sure you can do that?”

“Yes, I’m certain—I can talk Drummer through it (Mom knows I can talk with horses, but she doesn’t know how). But anyway, the thing is, I’m going to need an outfit—and so is Drum. Do you think you can help me?”

“I’ll try. I used to make your outfits for school plays, do you remember? You looked lovely in that angel’s outfit I made for the nativity.”

Uh-oh, nativity flashback! I’d been about six, there had been about fifteen angels, and Zoe Braithwaite was the most glamorous with huge, sparkly wings like a fairy queen. Mine were made out of wire coat hangers, and my dress had been an old nightdress. I wondered whether asking Mom for help in the wardrobe department was a good idea. It was too late to backtrack now.

“What are you going to be?” asked Mom. “I’ve got lots of old curtains in the attic from our old house, so if you can think up costumes with a floral theme, that would be handy. Did you see the rose Greg bought me at dinner? He’s very romantic.”

I couldn’t stop my head from filling up with images of Zoe Braithwaite. She had looked so glamorous. By comparison, I had looked like a clown, a jester to her queen. A jester…maybe there was some mileage in that idea. Maybe…

“What do you think about Drummer and me being a jester and a queen?” I mumbled, still working the idea around in my head. Drum could wear bells, I could get dressed up like a medieval queen, all flowing wimple and long dress. It might work…

“Or you could both be jesters,” added Mom. “Greg’s funny, too, amazing sense of humor…”

“Mmmm, we could.” My toast had gone cold and so had my enthusiasm for Greg. He sounded like a creep to me. “I need to think about this,” I told Mom. Grabbing my bag and Epona, of course, I biked to the yard with the queen and jester idea whirling around my head. It could work. Frankly, I thought, it had to work because time was ticking on, and I had only a week to figure out a routine and get our outfits made before the first local qualifier.

James and Katy thought it was a great idea.

“Great!” enthused Katy.

“I can just see you in medieval outfits!” said James. “Bells are a genius idea.”

“I don’t get it,” said Bean. “What exactly are you going to do?”

“Well, I’m not completely sure yet,” I told her. “It’s just an idea. It needs work.”

“We’ll help you work out a routine,” offered Katy. “It’ll be easy! Drummer will look so cute in a jester outfit with bells on—he’ll love it!”

Mmmm, I thought to myself with a sinking heart. I still hadn’t told Drummer—and loving it wasn’t exactly how I imagined he would feel.

Chapter 4

L
et me get this straight,” Drummer said. “You expect me to do that ridiculous dance routine thing we practiced—with bells on—in front of all these ponies? Dream on!”

We had arrived at South Bassett Farm, where the first of the local qualifiers for the Sublime Equine Challenge was being held. James, Katy, Bean, and I had all ridden over—it had only taken an hour but had seemed a lot longer because Bean was trying to remember her dressage test, and we were fed up with hearing it—and now that we’d arrived we were feeling less than confident. South Bassett Farm was where the local riding club held its shows and events. They had a cross-country course in the adjoining woods, and the Sublime Equine team had moved in with all the paraphernalia needed to put on a show.

“Oh, my,” breathed Bean, “look at that group!” We followed her gaze to a team of four matching chestnut ponies. Their riders were all decked out in identical riding clothes with blue shirts and pale ties, and the ponies all wore blue and pale blue brow bands. Their blue saddlecloths had the words
TEAM DIAMOND
emblazoned across them.

“Whoa!” exclaimed James.

“Oh, I wish we’d thought of that!” cried Katy. “My mom would have made us some saddlecloths. We’ll have to have some for the next qualifier.”

“We’ll have to choose a name, first,” I pointed out. I didn’t like the look of this—there were tons of teams and they all looked much more polished and confident than us. I spotted Bambi and Mr. Higgins tied to Leanne’s trailer; Cat and Leanne were grooming them. Their matching red polo shirts had
TEAM SLIC
on the back of them.

“Team names seem to be the thing,” I said, wondering what SLIC stood for, and whether they’d forgotten to add the
K
at the end. Or maybe the letters were too big, and they’d run out of space. “We totally need to think up a name for our team. We’re just a number at the moment.”

“How about Team Tremendous!” suggested James.

“Or Team Bossy Boy,” mumbled Bean.

“Oh, good idea, Bean—you could all be James’s Angels, like Charlie’s!” James laughed.

“Is that supposed to be funny?” I said.

“Where’s the cross-country course?” Bluey said, chomping at the bit. “I can’t wait to get going!”

Tiffany looked around the showground. “Is that a paper bag or something worse? What’s that droning noise? I hope no one pops a balloon, and I hope my test is soon so I get it over with,” I heard her muttering.

Moth kept her thoughts to herself as usual, and Drummer was sulking. Which was better than going on and
on
about how much he didn’t want to do the wild card.

Breaking it to him hadn’t been as bad as I’d imagined— until I’d mentioned my idea for outfits.

“You expect me to wear some fancy getup?” he’d asked, his ears twitching backward and forward.

“Yes, well, the routine depends heavily on the visual aspect,” I’d explained.

“With bells, you say?” More ear twitching.

“Well, yes. Jesters wore bells.”

“And you’re
not
wearing bells, have I got that part right?” He’d stared at me.

“Mmmm, yes. You see, I’m the queen. A jester entertains the queen. He makes her laugh.”

“I’m a figure of fun? A clown? You’re glamorous, and I’m the stupid one?” Ballistic ear action.

“It’s only for four minutes,” I’d mumbled, aware that Drummer wasn’t buying into it.

“Four minutes…” he’d mused. “What’s in it for me?”

“Excuse me?”

“What do I get out of it? What’s my motivation?”

“Er…well…you get the satisfaction of doing your part for the team. It’s a team effort, and you’ll be supporting Moth and Bluey and Tiffany.” I had felt pretty pleased at thinking that up.

“OK, I get all that,” Drum had said dismissively, “but I’m talking about me. What do I get if I do this…this… pointless fancy costume parade? With bells.”

“What do you want?”

“To stay out at night. No more talk of me staying in and going on a diet.”

I had thought long and hard. The grass was going off a bit now so it would probably be all right.

“Deal!”

But when I’d tried his outfit on him, Drummer had protested all over again.

“What’s this stupid hat thing?” he’d said when I’d put the ear caps on him. They were knitted ear protectors, worn by show jumpers to keep out noise and flies. I’d managed to find some red ones at the tack shop, and Mom had sewn on some yellow diamonds. We’d decided that Drum’s bay coat would look good in a red and yellow jester outfit, with a diamond pattern and bells sewn in strategic places. I’d bandaged each of Drummer’s legs—two red bandages, two yellow—weaved some red and yellow ribbons in Drummers mane and tail, and decorated a yellow halter with tiny red felt diamonds. With little jingling bells from the pet shop sewn onto the tips of the ear protectors and each leg bandage, Drum
ting-a-ling
-ed whenever he moved. I had been very proud of my efforts, and thought Drum looked the part without going over the top.

Drum hadn’t agreed.

“So what are you going to wear?” he’d asked me, shaking his head. The bells had given a satisfactory
ting-a-ling.

“I’ve got a wimple…”

“A what?”

“It’s a pointy hat with a chiffon scarf tied at the top…”

“Like a witch?”

“I suppose.” I had sighed, worn out by Drum’s negativity. “And a floaty yellow dress thing to wear over my jodhpurs. It’s really you they’ll be looking at.”

“Why doesn’t that make me feel any better?” Drum had grumbled.

We hadn’t had many days to practice. We agreed that we’d keep it simple—that I’d stand in the middle, and Drum would circle around me and turn and dance a bit, looking like he was making me laugh. Then, together we’d do a circuit in step together like we were dancing, throw in a few sideways moves and some back steps, then end in front of the judges and bow—with Drum putting his front hooves out in front and bending down all cute for the ah factor. It seemed to work pretty well once Drummer had mastered the bow, and I was secretly confident that we’d be fine with me telling Drum what to do and where to go. But now we were here at the showground, and the tiny bit of cooperation I’d had from Drum seemed to be evaporating. I hoped he would see it through OK.

The field was buzzing with activity. In one corner was the dressage arena set out with white markers and the judge’s car at one end. Flags announced the start of the cross-country course on the other side, and show jumping fences gleamed in yet another part. Horse trailers lined up in the adjacent field, and a big tent was surrounded by promotional banners for Sublime Equine, all in their familiar orange and lime colors. Glamorous girls in Sublime Equine outfits handed out Sublime Equine catalogs. We found a shady tree to claim as our own, and Katy and Bean went off to confirm our entry.

“Everyone looks alarmingly competent,” said James, eyeing up one of the Sublime Equine promotional girls wearing a very tight polo shirt and jodhpurs. She had sparkly false eyelashes on, too. It was strange seeing James in his best riding clothes—tweed jacket, shirt and tie, and jodhpurs—instead of his more familiar torn jeans and scruffy boots. Moth’s mane and tail were braided, and we’d all bullied James into trimming the feather off her four white stockings, which were whitened and encased in brushing boots. Her usual striped Indian blanket had been replaced by a neat white saddle blanket. She’d had a makeover, like my mom.