Show Judge (11 page)

The next contestant entered the ring. It was May
Grover on Macaroni. Carole watched as the girl carefully positioned her pony at the head of the cavalletti. When she was settled, Carole nodded for her to proceed. The entire routine was flawless and ended with the pair floating over the small jump at the end. They had made it all look easy. Still, Carole hesitated in jotting down their score. Something was wrong. She struggled to put her finger on the problem. She watched as the duo left the ring and suddenly knew what it was. With every other contestant’s entrance and exit there had been at least one person whooping and shouting encouragement. For May there had been only a smattering of polite applause from her fellow riders. Where was May’s cheerleader? Veronica diAngelo was nowhere around. Carole felt bad for the little girl, but there was nothing she could do about it. Corey Takamura had entered the ring and was waiting for her signal to start.

“D
ID YOU SEE
that?” Stevie whooped, pounding on the railing. “Four jumps and a clear round!”

“Corey did rap that second one kind of hard, though,” Lisa said.

Stevie turned to her. “It stayed up, didn’t it? That’s what wins a horse race,” she said smugly.

“Maybe, but Carole’s bound to take away points for
style. After all, Corey did have to grab a big handful of mane to stay on board,” responded Lisa coolly.

Stevie turned back to the ring. “At least she didn’t take down a pole, unlike some riders who shall remain nameless, but whose initials happen to be
J.J
.”

“Jasmine showed excellent form through the whole course,” Lisa responded hotly. “A good seat and hands are the basis for a good rider, and at this stage of their training, that’s equally as important as a clean round!”

“They both did a good job,” Stevie conceded. “They should be proud of themselves.”

“Let’s go tell them,” Lisa suggested.

Together they made their way through the small knots of people and ponies until they spotted Jasmine and Corey. There were hugs and congratulations all around. Both young riders were happy and flushed from the competition, and they seemed relieved that their part in the rally was over.

“You guys did great,” May said enthusiastically. “I hope I can do as well.”

“Hey, shouldn’t you be mounting up?” Stevie asked.

“I guess so,” May said, looking around. “I thought maybe Veronica …” She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.

“Here, I’ll give you a leg up,” Stevie offered, moving to Macaroni’s side and lacing her fingers together.

“Thanks, Stevie,” May said gratefully. “I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

Stevie eyed her equipment critically. “Not with those stirrups, you’re not. May, you know you need them shorter for jumping,” she gently scolded the girl as she made the adjustments.

“I guess I forgot,” May apologized.

“That’s not the only thing you’ve forgotten,” Lisa said, stepping firmly in front of pony and rider.

The little girl looked puzzled.

“If you ride into the ring without your hat, Max’ll have you riding back out so fast your head will spin.”

“My hat! I don’t know where I left it! What should I do?” she said, panicking.

“What size do you wear?” Lisa asked.

“A four,” May said, her eyes starting to tear up.

Lisa looked at Jasmine and Corey, who both shook their heads regretfully. “Stay calm,” she said, scanning the crowd of faces. “A-ha! I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into a small knot of people only to reappear a moment later with a hard hat clutched triumphantly in her hands. She presented her prize to May. “I borrowed this from Natalie, so don’t forget to return it after the competition.”

“You’d better get moving,” Stevie advised.

May hesitated. “I’m not sure what the order of the course is.”

Lisa was surprised. “Haven’t you been watching the other riders?”

“Not as much as I should have, I guess,” she confessed. “I wanted to make sure Mac looked his best.”

“It’s pretty simple, May,” Stevie said. “Four fences set up in a square. You’re going to be riding a figure eight. Jump the first one, cut through the middle and to the right, jump the second and loop to the left, over that and through the middle again to the last fence on your left,” Stevie explained quickly.

“You’d better get going. I just heard them announce your name,” Lisa told her. “Good luck.”

As May rode off, Lisa, Stevie, Jasmine, and Corey all looked at each other with concern. Then they bolted for the fence to watch.

C
AROLE WAS FEELING
a profound sense of relief. A few more riders and it would all be over. She looked up in time to see May Grover bowing to her. She acknowledged the salute. A moment later the pony and rider were heading toward the first jump. The duo soared cleanly over the fence and headed for the second on the far side of the arena. Once again, May placed her
pony in perfect jumping position, and they bounded over it.

It was as the pair made the loop toward the third fence that Carole spotted trouble. May overshot the next obstacle on the course and headed toward a much bigger one that had been stored to the right of the fence she was supposed to be jumping. Carole watched in helpless horror as Macaroni made his approach. May must have realized her error at the last moment. Carole saw her drop her hands, losing contact with her pony’s mouth. The results were devastating. Macaroni, sensing his rider’s loss of confidence, lost confidence himself. At the last possible moment he planted his forefeet in the ground and came to an abrupt stop. May, unprepared, went vaulting over her pony’s head and landed on the far side of the jump in a heap.

Max ran to the fallen girl, Carole hot on his heels. Stevie, Lisa, and many of the other spectators arrived seconds later.

“Don’t sit up, May,” Max said, kneeling at her side. “Do you think you’re hurt?”

“I don’t know,” the little girl said in a tearful voice.

“Try to move your arms and legs, one at a time,” Max advised, watching her carefully.

Carole noticed that Macaroni was trotting around
the ring, trailing his reins and looking upset. “Stevie,” she whispered. “Can you get her pony?”

Stevie nodded, moving off.

Carole watched closely as May gingerly tested her limbs. She thought the girl was going to get off with nothing more than injured pride until she moved her right wrist.

“Owww!” May yelped, clutching it with her other hand.

“Hurts to move it?” Max asked, concerned.

May nodded. Tears were beginning to roll down her dusty cheeks.

Max looked at Carole. “Help me get her up.”

The two of them assisted the little girl slowly to her feet. She was obviously in some pain.

“I think we’d better get you to a doctor,” Max said. “I’m going to run ahead and call your parents. Carole, can you walk her over to the stable to get her things?”

“Of course, Max,” Carole answered at once.

As the two girls made their way slowly out of the arena, Stevie came back with Macaroni in tow. Somehow the pony managed to actually look embarrassed about the whole situation. “Thanks, Stevie.” Carole took the animal’s reins.

“Is there anything else I can do?” Stevie asked.

Carole considered a moment. “I doubt if Max will want to continue with the rally. Could you tell the others?”

“Of course,” Stevie said right away. “I’m sorry you got hurt, May.”

“Thanks, Stevie,” the little girl sniffled.

“We’d better get going,” Carole said.

The two girls made their way carefully to the stable. As Carole escorted May into the locker room, they discovered Veronica diAngelo sitting on one of the benches. Her lips were glistening from a freshly applied coat of gloss, and she held a cell phone to her ear.

“May, what are you doing in here?” Veronica demanded. “Shouldn’t you be in the ring?”

“May is hurt,” snapped Carole.

May gently held out her right wrist in her left hand. It was already swelling rapidly.

Veronica took one look at the wrist and wrinkled her nose. “Ewww. You should really have somebody look at that.”

Carole had no patience for Veronica’s insensitivity. “I put Macaroni in his stall, but someone needs to look after him,” she said pointedly.

“It’s not my pony,” Veronica protested. “And this isn’t my fault.”

Carole threw her a furious look and Veronica seemed to get the message.

“Oh, all right,” Veronica said grudgingly. “I don’t suppose either of you has seen Red around?”

Carole didn’t bother to reply.

A
LL THE RIDERS
were present when May’s parents collected her for the short drive to the hospital. They were somber as they watched the Grovers’ car disappear down the road. Although Pine Hollow had an excellent record and no rider there had ever been seriously injured, it was always upsetting when a rider got hurt at all, especially when it was someone as dedicated and careful as May.

They all looked to Max for some consolation, but he didn’t have any for them. His face was stern, his eyes cold, and his lips were in a thin, straight line. He was angry and they knew it.

“I want you all to take care of your tack and your ponies and be in my office in five minutes. We have something to talk about. In fact, we have a lot to talk about.”

“T
HIS IS A VERY
sad day for Pine Hollow,” Max began, his steely eyes glaring at everyone gathered in his office.

All around him, riders exchanged looks. Some of them were confused. Stevie knew what was on their minds: Accidents happen. They weren’t fun for anybody, but they were accidents. How could Max be upset?

Stevie also knew that wasn’t what Max was upset about.

He continued. “Most of you probably think I’m talking about May’s fall. While there’s no question that that is a sad event, what led up to it and what I see all around me now is tragic.”

Again, the riders looked at one another, most still wondering what was up.

Mrs. Reg knocked on the door and gestured to Max. He left the riders alone and confused for a few minutes.

Carole listened silently as whispers broke out in the office. She knew what was coming. The whispers weren’t intended for her ears, but the room was small and the messages were clear.

“How could Carole tell how clean his coat was when you practically needed a Seeing Eye dog to get in his stall?” Brittany Lynn hissed to her friend, Polly, sitting two feet away. “We are talking zero light in there! It’s all her fault.”

Stevie turned to Lisa. “You realize of course that we now have no chance of winning this thing, don’t you?” she asked.

“Why do you say that?” Lisa asked.

“Come on, Lisa. Carole never tried to hide the fact that May was her favorite. Now with the accident, she’s also got the sympathy vote.

Lisa looked at the floor and said nothing.

“Well,” said Betsy in another corner, leaning over to Meg. “If Natalie doesn’t care about winning, it’s no skin off my nose. I’m sure not going to do all the work for her!”

Reuben turned to Mark, sitting behind him. “I could buff that old saddle until my fingers bleed and it’s still never going to look as good as Leslie’s new one. So what’s the point in even trying?”

Carole listened to the riders around her, each one totally focused on themselves, and began to have an inkling of what was really bothering Max. She realized, too, that this griping had been going on for more than a week. It wasn’t always this loud or this furious, but it was always there. The only reason it was all hanging out now was because everyone was so upset about May. But the mood had been there all along. For the first time, it occurred to her to wonder what part she’d played in setting that mood.

Max returned, glaring at the unhappy chatter that surrounded him.

“That was May’s father calling to say they were at the hospital and May is being examined,” Max said. “Now, where was I? Yes, how could I forget. My original purpose was to give young riders confidence, garnered from the experience of the older ones—confidence in your growing abilities, confidence in the reliability of your mounts, and confidence in the unfailing support of your fellow riders. When I learned that some of the older riders thought their job was to watch, not teach, I thought, well, they’ll learn. When
I heard some riders trashing others, I thought, well, they’ll find out that they do better when they help one another than when they put others down. When I saw that the only thing that mattered to some of the riders was winning ribbons, I thought, gee, I thought I’d taught them better than that! And when I saw friendships bruised because of some kind of presumed favoritism, I thought, oh no. There are so many things so much more important. When will they learn?”

He paused and looked around the room, his eye catching the eye of every single rider in there so that each and every one of them knew he meant them—not someone else.

“But you haven’t learned, you haven’t changed, you haven’t grown. The bickering I just walked in on is proof of that. I am truly saddened to say that everything I see now tells me this whole exercise was a failure!”

There was a slight murmur of protest from a few people in the room, but as Carole looked around, she could tell that most of the group seemed to feel that a guilty silence was a more honest response. Stevie dared to peek around her, only to find almost everybody had developed a sudden fascination with their own footgear.