Stevie (19 page)

I can’t promise they’ll make a lot of sense to anyone who isn’t familiar with my own private shorthand. But I thought it would be best to include them as they are (retyped for neatness, of course), with an explanation to follow.

Stevie Lake’s Dressage Notes: A Transcript

SPCH:

TEST:(T. looks AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Stevie Lake’s Dressage Notes: A Translation

Ms. DeSoto began by giving a brief speech about the goals and traditions of the sport of dressage. Some of her major points were as follows:

Following her very interesting and informative speech, Ms. DeSoto entered the ring on Topside, who was in particularly fine form that day, perhaps owing to his pleasure in being reunited with his longtime trainer and partner.

Ms. DeSoto announced that she would be performing a Fourth Level dressage test that day. That’s a few steps down from a Grand Prix test, which is what you would see in the Olympics (she’s done that, since she was on the U.S. Olympic Team).

The rest of my notes simply indicate various interesting and impressive moves that Dorothy performed as part of the test, for instance, flying lead change at the canter, pirouettes, and counter-canters. Naturally, I was so busy watching and learning that I didn’t have a whole lot of time to take extensive notes; hence the rather cryptic nature of what you see above. If you would like any further information
or clarification on anything having to do with dressage, please feel free to ask me anytime. I’m always happy to talk about it, especially since it’s a discipline—and I do stress the word “discipline”—that I take very seriously.

Welcome to My Life …

The dressage demonstration was fantastic, as expected. Dorothy was amazing, Topside was incredible, and the whole thing was so interesting that it probably even made me forget a little bit of what I’d learned in science class that week, which explains why I didn’t do so well on the test I had a few days later.

I was so overwhelmed by the time the demonstration was over that I’d almost forgotten what was coming next. I remembered when Max walked into the ring and called for attention.

“We’re not quite done yet this afternoon,” he told the audience. “We have another treat in store for you, and it’s something that will mean a great deal to a lot of the people here—to anybody who has ever ridden at Pine Hollow.” He turned to me. “Ready?” he asked.

I grinned, nodded, and hopped up from my seat, not giving Carole and Lisa time to ask any questions. I raced into the stable as Max continued talking. Red O’Malley, the head stable hand at Pine Hollow, was waiting just inside the main doors. He was holding a lead line attached to a horse’s halter. The horse was waiting patiently just behind him.

“Here he is,” Red told me. “Ready to go.”

“Not yet,” I whispered, peeking out around the door. “I want us to make an entrance.” In the ring, Max was still speaking. He was describing a certain horse his father had bought for Pine Hollow many years before. A horse that had
failed as a competition horse, as a hunter, as a farm horse, and as a little girl’s pony.

“This horse wasn’t sleek enough or strong enough to compete successfully,” Max explained. “He didn’t like the loud distractions of a fox hunt. He wasn’t strong enough to pull a plow, and frankly, one little girl just wasn’t enough for him. Dad bought the horse whose name had been Clyde and renamed him … Pepper.”

“Now?” Red whispered to me.

I shook my head. “Not yet.”

Outside, Max went on. “Dad’s instincts turned out to be one hundred percent correct,” he said, speaking a little louder over the sounds of murmurs from the audience. “Pepper has been one of the most beloved horses at Pine Hollow. He has always been gentle enough for the newest rider and spirited enough for the most experienced. He’s been just about perfect for us. But time has passed and Pepper has aged. He’s no longer the strong young gelding Dad bought. He’s not even the eager mature horse so many of us have loved. He’s old; in horse years he’s approaching ninety. At ninety even horses begin having dreams of retirement. We talked about a condominium in Florida for him. We also thought about a nice cruise around the world. When we asked Pepper about those things, all he did was look at the pasture out behind the stable at Pine Hollow. So, in thanks to him for all he’s done for us—me and many of you—we’re giving Pepper that pasture. But before we do that, we’re giving him a little send-off, masterminded by one of our own riders, Ms. Stevie Lake. Stevie?”

As all eyes turned toward the stable door, I grabbed a very
special item I had stashed behind a bale of hay nearby. “Now,” I told Red. “Give me a hand, will you?”

Seconds later, I was mounted on Pepper bareback. If the old horse was surprised, he didn’t let on. He obediently walked forward out of the stable. I held the reins with one hand so I could hold on to that special item in the other.

As soon as everyone in the audience saw what it was that I was holding, they burst out laughing. I grinned—and held the giant gold watch a little higher. Okay, actually it wasn’t a real watch. It was made of cardboard. But I had worked on it for hours the night before (which meant I didn’t have quite enough time to finish the math problems I was supposed to do) and it looked really great.

“No retirement party is complete without a gold watch,” Max announced.

“And no retirement party is complete without a sentimental farewell,” I added.

“Ah, yes,” Max agreed. “Most of the people here in the audience today have ridden at Pine Hollow at one time or another, right?” Heads nodded in agreement. “How many of you have ever ridden Pepper?”

I glanced around, raising my own hand high (after tucking the watch under my other arm). Hands were popping up all over the place. It was amazing. More than two-thirds of the people there had ridden Pepper at least once! And it wasn’t just the kids—lots of adults raised their hands, too.

“Okay, let’s give him a real send-off,” Max said. “Stevie, you do the honors.”

I was glad to. I slid down from Pepper’s back and secured his lead line to the gate of the ring. Then I called out a few instructions to the crowd, getting everyone who had ever ridden Pepper to line up by age, with the youngest first.

“That way,” I explained, “you can all have your chance to hug Pepper good-bye and wish him well in his retirement.”

The first twenty or so riders were so young that Max had to lift them up so they could hug the horse. A bunch of parents even took pictures of their kids with Pepper. Then the older kids came—including Betsy Cavanaugh and Anna McWhirter and a whole bunch of other Fenton Hall students. When it was Carole’s turn she stepped forward and gave Pepper the biggest hug yet.

“Good luck, old boy,” she said, stepping back and wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “We’ll miss you. But you’ve earned it.”

Then it was Lisa’s turn. She was standing there, staring at Pepper with this misty look in her eyes.

“Next!” I prompted.

Lisa started, then stepped forward. She wrapped her arms around Pepper’s gray neck and buried her face in his mane.

“I’ll come visit you in the pasture,” she promised. “I’ll bring you some carrots, too.”

That was all she said. But I knew that behind those simple words were a whole lot of emotions. And I knew that somehow Pepper knew it, too.

I smiled as Lisa moved away to let others have their turns. Then I turned my attention back to the line—the long,
long line of people waiting to make their farewells to a very special horse.

After everyone had taken a turn, Max stepped forward again. “And now,” he said, “I invite you all to join me for a small reception in Pepper’s new home.”

I grinned and started to lead Pepper toward the back pasture. This was my favorite part of my plan.

“It’s just a little party,” Max continued. “But we do have refreshments. Stevie tells me that Pepper insisted on selecting the menu, so go help yourselves to carrot sticks, oatmeal cookies, sugar lumps, and apple juice!”

I grinned as my friends started to laugh. Soon the whole audience was laughing with them.

Hi! I just got your e-mail asking about my “Life” essay. Yes, you’re remembering correctly—I did end up revising it after Pepper’s retirement party. I liked it a lot better after that. And of course you can use it in your report if you want. It would be an honor.

I’m attaching the file to this e-mail. And don’t worry, it was no trouble finding it. Actually, I had saved it on the hard drive of my computer, so I didn’t even have to retype
it. All I had to do was go into my “School Reports” file and call it up by title and date. Piece of cake!

LIFE
by Lisa Atwood
(edited slightly for length by S. Lake)

Pepper is Pine Hollows gentlest, sweetest, kindest horse. He’s every first rider’s first choice. He is so attentive to his rider’s needs that he makes riding seem easy. In fact, one time I was riding Pepper, unaware that we were in a field that housed a fierce bull. We were too far from the gate to get to safety, so Pepper did the only logical thing—he taught me to jump in one easy lesson! We both landed safely on the other side of the fence. I think I can say truly that I owe Pepper my life.

Now his life is coming to an end. His gray coat, once dark and dappled, is now white and dappled. His head, once held high with pride, often seems too heavy for his neck. His eyes, once sparkling and alert, are now rheumy and clouded with cataracts. His ears splay awkwardly, dulled to the familiar sounds around him. He is old.

I love him as he is, for that is how I have known him, but I like to think of him as he was.

Pepper was a champion, not because he got ribbons, though he surely did, but because he taught me and many other riders how to love horses—starting with him. And we do.

Pepper’s life began in a barn in Willow Creek, Virginia. It will end in a pasture not far from that barn. That seems like
a small accomplishment to some people, but Pepper’s contribution to the many who have known and loved him cannot be measured by the yards he traveled from birth to death. They have to be measured by the lives he touched.

So now it’s time for Pepper to take the final few steps of his journey and head for the pasture behind Pine Hollow. While I feel sad about the end of his days at the stable, I also feel a certain happiness. Pepper has earned the right to his rest because he hasn’t just taught me and others about riding, or about aging, or about death. He’s also taught us what’s important about life. It doesn’t matter how far you go. It matters what you do for others along the way.

Welcome to My Life …

There you have it, Miss Fenton. Lisa’s essay. I only cut out some general stuff she wrote at the beginning about life. I think the essay kind of sums up how we all feel about Pepper, and I hope that helps explain how important it was for me to spend a lot of time planning that party.

By now you’re probably wondering whatever happened to Prancer. Well, that’s the next part of my story. You see, after Pepper’s party, my friends and I walked back toward the stable with Dorothy, still carrying our cups of apple juice and some leftover treats from the refreshments table Red and I had set up that morning. We were just chatting with her—you know, catching up on her life and filling her in on ours. There was a lot to tell. For one thing, we told her all about Prancer and her accident the day before.

“Judy thinks she’ll get better, but she’s never going to race again,” Carole explained. She looked sad when she said it.

I glanced over at Lisa. Her eyes were twinkling. I stifled a grin. We had worked pretty hard the day before to keep Carole from guessing what we had helped Judy decide to do.

Dorothy was chatting on about Prancer, but I hardly heard her. I was looking toward the driveway of Pine Hollow, watching for a certain vehicle to arrive.

Finally it came. “Hey, Judy’s here,” I said as casually as I could. I gestured to the light blue pickup truck that had just pulled into the driveway. I looked at Carole innocently. “Are you supposed to be making calls with her today?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Carole said. “I don’t know why she’s here.”

There were still a lot of people hanging around outside from the demonstration and party. Judy stepped out of her truck and glanced around at the crowd, clearly looking for someone. She spotted us and kept looking. Then her gaze fell on Max. She walked briskly over to him and pulled him aside for a private conversation.

I smiled to myself. Then I turned back to Dorothy and Lisa. Lisa winked, then looked at Dorothy. “So, have you started training any interesting new horses lately?” she asked.