The Painted Horse (4 page)

“I’m on vacation,” Stevie said. She could tell that the policeman didn’t really believe her, but she wasn’t actually breaking the law. Still, she thought the sooner she got out of there, the better.

“I’m meeting my grandfather,” she said. “I like to ride on the carousel over and over and over again, and he gets bored. So he dropped me off, and he’s going to pick me up.”

The policeman nodded. His blue eyes shined. “When I was a kid I liked to go on that carousel, too.” He smiled as he remembered. “I grew up here in the city. The carousel horses were the only horses I ever rode.” He looked at the carousel, which had started up again. “It was just the same then as it is now. Nothing has changed.”

“My favorite is the black one,” Stevie said. “I call him Ralph.”

“Good name,” said the policeman. “So, where’s your grandfather?”

“He’s kind of a slow walker,” she said. “He was thrown from a bucking bronco when he was young. He’s a fantastic rider, but not like he was before the accident.”

“I’d like to meet him,” said the policeman. “He sounds like an interesting man.”

Stevie looked around desperately. It was getting later and later. She had to get back to the museum.

“There he is,” Stevie said. “Right over there.” She pointed at the stream of people moving down the road. “I’m late. Gotta go! Great talking to you!” She dashed off.

“I
GUESS
WE
should watch the news,” Lisa said.

“Why?” said Carole. “So we can see how foolish we look?”

Carole and Lisa had just come back from Pine Hollow. They were rummaging in Carole’s refrigerator for a snack.

Colonel Hanson’s head popped around the corner. “Did I hear you say you were going to be on TV?”

“It’s no big deal,” said Carole.

“It’s a really
small
deal,” said Lisa.

“You girls are just being modest,” Carole’s father said. “If you’re on television, I want to see it.”

“No you don’t,” said Lisa.

Colonel Hanson shook his head. “It’s good to be modest, but there’s no point in overdoing it.”

Lisa and Carole exchanged miserable looks. “We’re not being modest,” Lisa said. “We
were
horrible.”

“As if you girls could ever be horrible,” Colonel Hanson said happily. “What time are you on?”

“We’re on the local news,” Carole said glumly, “in five minutes.”

“I know it’s almost dinnertime, but this calls for popcorn,” said Colonel Hanson. It was a Hanson family tradition that great movies and great TV called for great popcorn. “I’m going to make it with extra butter. You girls take care of the lemonade.”

Lisa got the lemonade out of the refrigerator while Carole put glasses on a tray. As Lisa poured the lemonade, she said, “Don’t you think we should warn him?”

“What are we going to tell him?” Carole asked miserably.

Silently they carried the tray into the TV room and sat on the couch.

“WCTV is my favorite news station,” Colonel Hanson said. “They really tell it like it is.”

Lisa and Carole sank onto the couch.

“Hey, have some popcorn while it’s hot,” Colonel Hanson said as he settled into his favorite chair.

“I’m saving it for later,” Lisa said. Suddenly she didn’t feel like eating.

Colonel Hanson picked up the remote and turned on the television. Cheerful marching music played while WCTV’s logo appeared on the screen. An announcer described the top two stories of the day, and then he said, “Today, Melody Manners is bringing us the first in a series called ‘Genius Kids.’ Melody?” He turned to her with a smile.

Melody said, “Today we’re going to be meeting a very special kid, a rider who understands that it isn’t all horse shows and prize ribbons. Taking care of tack is important, too.”

“That’s you, Carole,” Colonel Hanson said. He settled back happily into his chair.

Carole sank even lower on the couch.

Veronica appeared on the screen as Melody said, “Veronica diAngelo is a serious rider. She knows that taking care of her horse and her equipment comes first.”

“Veronica?” said Colonel Hanson. “Whoever decided she was a Genius Kid?”

“Veronica’s father is friendly with the man who owns the television station,” said Carole.

Colonel Hanson put his hands behind his head. “That’s too bad.”

“You’re telling me,” said Lisa. “Carole ought to be the Genius Kid.”

The three of them watched while Carole stripped the
saddle, and Veronica explained to Melody what she was doing.

“Nice work,” Colonel Hanson said. “I know an expert job when I see one.”

They watched while Carole washed the inside of the saddle and dried it.

Colonel Hanson beamed proudly.

They watched while Carole washed and dried the seat and the flaps of the saddle, and Veronica kept on talking.

“That’s not so bad,” Colonel Hanson said.

“Just wait,” Lisa said darkly.

On the TV set Melody suggested that Veronica polish the seat of the saddle herself. Onscreen, Veronica looked panicked for a second, then reached for a tin of black leather polish.

“Not that one!” yelled Colonel Hanson. Even on TV it was obvious that Veronica was picking up the wrong tin.

With a satisfied smile, Veronica opened the tin, plunged in her sponge, and made a black line across the saddle.

“She ruined a beautiful new saddle!” cried Colonel Hanson.

“There’s more,” said Lisa.

On the TV, Lisa said it was her fault. And then Carole
said it was her fault. And then they started scrubbing at the black streak.

“I’ve got to hand it to you girls,” Colonel Hanson said.

“We’re the biggest idiots on earth, right?” said Lisa.

“Wrong,” said Colonel Hanson. “You were thinking about Pine Hollow. You didn’t want the stable to look bad.”

For a second Lisa was filled with pride. But then she thought about what the kids at school would say. “We’ll never hear the end of this. We acted so dumb. Kids will be teasing us for years.”

Carole nodded and crossed her arms. Lisa knew that Carole couldn’t stand the idea of people thinking she had damaged a saddle so senselessly.

“Nonsense,” Colonel Hanson said. “You two are heroes.”

“Heroes?” said Carole.

“You thought of others, not of yourselves,” said Colonel Hanson. “If you were Marines, you’d get medals.”

“The worst part is that WCTV is coming back tomorrow to tape Veronica—make that
us
—cleaning a bridle. This is shaping up as the worst vacation ever,” Lisa said.

“You know what we need?” Carole asked.

Lisa shook her head.

“A good laugh,” said Carole

“All we need is something to laugh at,” Lisa said.

“Let’s call Stevie. She can tell us about her glamorous visit to New York,” Carole said.

“Yes!” said Lisa. “If anyone can cheer us up, it’s Stevie.”

Carole found the name and phone number of the hotel where Stevie’s class was staying in New York. “This is going to be fun,” she said. She dialed the hotel and asked for Stevie’s room.

Lisa ran into the next room for the extension.

After two rings the phone in New York was picked up. “Hello?” said Stevie.

“Stevie!” said Lisa and Carole at the same time.

“We need you!” said Carole.

“Tell us something funny,” said Lisa.

A woman’s voice said, “I’m sorry. Stevie can’t come to the phone.”

“But she already came to the phone,” Lisa said.

The phone went dead.

Lisa and Carole stared at each other. What was going on?

“P
LEASE
STOP
CRYING
,” Stevie said. “It makes me feel terrible.”

She and Ms. Dodge were in Stevie’s hotel room. The rest of the class had gone to dinner and then to see a play. Stevie had to stay at the hotel as punishment.

That afternoon Stevie had dashed back to the museum,
rushed into the gift shop, and grabbed a postcard. She paid quickly and stuffed it in a bag, thinking that everything would be fine.

But Mrs. Martin asked each of them to show their postcard and explain why they had chosen their particular object.

One girl had chosen a ruffled ballgown from the costume wing. Another had chosen a violin. Another had chosen an antique valentine card with cupids and lace. Everyone had good explanations for their choices.

And then it was Stevie’s turn. Stevie reached into the bag, hoping that she had grabbed something good. It was a portrait of a very tall woman with a slightly red nose.

“Good selection, Stevie,” said Mrs. Martin. “Why did you choose it?”

Usually, Stevie had no trouble thinking up explanations, but this time she was almost stumped. “I like that nose,” she said. “Most artists would pretend it wasn’t pink. They’d paint it white.”

“Good point,” said Mrs. Martin. “I can see you’ve given this a lot of thought. How would you describe this artist’s place in American art?”

That was a toughie, since Stevie had no idea who the artist was.

“It’s an important position,” Stevie said. “American art wouldn’t be what it is without him.”

“Stevie,” said Mrs. Martin, crossing her arms. “What’s the artist’s name?”

“It’s on the tip of my tongue,” Stevie said. She tried to peek at the back of the postcard to see if the name was printed there.

“No, it’s not,” said Mrs. Martin. “His name is John Singer Sargent. It’s obvious to me, Stevie, that you were fooling around in the store. You didn’t choose an object at all.”

“I was not fooling around in the store,” Stevie said.

“Then what were you doing?” asked Mrs. Martin.

Stevie had realized that if Mrs. Martin found out what she had really been doing, she would be in the biggest trouble of her life. She would blow her chance to make up her grades, and she would lose her riding privileges. So she had said that the store was lots of fun. That wasn’t a lie exactly. The store
was
lots of fun. But she hadn’t spent any time there.

Now she was being punished. She had to miss a fancy dinner and the theater. She couldn’t make or receive phone calls, which was bad because she couldn’t call Skye to tell him where she was staying.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. Ms. Dodge had been looking forward to the play that night. It was from a book by her favorite author, Henry James. And now she was upset.

“I am the world’s biggest jerk,” said Stevie. She felt really guilty. Ms. Dodge was a little quiet but very nice. Sometimes she even laughed at Stevie’s jokes, and she was always willing to help students.
She’d never ruin someone’s trip
, Stevie thought bitterly.

“You aren’t a jerk,” Ms. Dodge said, wiping her eyes. “You have a good heart, Stevie, but you get carried away.”

“I ruined your trip,” Stevie said.

“No, you didn’t,” Ms. Dodge said. “This gives us a chance to spend time together. I’m sorry I got upset. I’m a little disappointed, but we’ll have fun.”

Stevie wished Ms. Dodge would just get mad. The nicer she acted, the worse Stevie felt.

“I can’t understand why you don’t hate me,” Stevie said.

“I like you,” Ms. Dodge said quietly.

“Ugh,” said Stevie, throwing herself into a chair. “I hate myself.”

“Stevie, you have to realize that what you did this afternoon was wrong,” said Ms. Dodge.

She knows!
Stevie thought.
She knows I was running all over the park.

“Mrs. Martin gave this trip a lot of thought,” Ms. Dodge said. “She wanted to give you all as much freedom as possible. She wanted each of you to pick out an
object on your own and research it on your own. But you didn’t do that, Stevie. You wasted time in the store.

“I know museum stores are fun,” Ms. Dodge continued, “but you didn’t do your job. And your grades are in jeopardy.”

“I always seem to get in trouble when I don’t really mean to,” Stevie said, shaking her head. “I guess I should really shape up.”

Ms. Dodge went over to Stevie and sat on the arm of her chair. “You’re growing up, Stevie. You have to stop acting like a little kid.”

Stevie thought for a minute. “I’m going to change,” she said with determination. “From now on I am going to be thoughtful and cooperative. Ms. Dodge, you are going to be proud of me.”

Ms. Dodge nodded. “I know I will, Stevie. I have faith in you. I think this trip to New York is going to be a real growing experience for you.”

Stevie resolved that she would never, ever act like a jerk again. And the next day, if she was really good, she’d get her phone privileges back. Then she’d be able to call Skye Ransom. And then she’d take Ms. Dodge backstage to see the real, true glamour of New York City.