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Authors: Bonnie Bryant

The Painted Horse (9 page)

BOOK: The Painted Horse
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She heard clopping and splashing. She turned and a huge brown thing with a huge yellow thing on top appeared out of the hail. It was the mounted policeman, wearing a yellow poncho.

“What’re you doing here?” he said.

“It’s kind of a long story,” said Stevie.

“No more excuses,” the policeman said. “Who are you and what are you doing here? You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

Stevie realized this was no time for wild stories. “I’m Stevie Lake. I’m here with my class, except I got separated from them. I’m worried about them, and they may be worried about me.”

The policeman nodded. “Where were they when you last saw them?”

“They were headed for Belvedere Castle from the New-York Historical Society,” Stevie said.

“Right,” the policeman said. “I’ll put out an alert.” He pulled his walkie-talkie out from under his poncho and talked into it.

“Visibility is poor in the hail,” the policeman said.

“Officers will be looking for them, but they may not see them.”

Stevie felt like crying. “We’ve got to find them as soon as possible.”

The policeman thought a minute. “You seem pretty crazy about horses. Are you a good rider?”

“Pretty good,” Stevie said with a quaver in her voice.

“Why don’t you get on my horse with me?” he said.

“I’d love to,” Stevie said.

The policeman nodded and leaned down to help Stevie up.

“Er—wait one second. What’s your horse’s name?” said Stevie.

“Billy,” said the policeman.

Stevie went to Billy’s head and said, “Do you mind if I ride you?” Billy nickered and nuzzled her.

Stevie moved back around and took the policeman’s hand. She settled quickly behind him, and they set out across the park.

They went over a bridge to the edge of a huge meadow where the grass had been flattened by hail. There was no one else to be seen.

The hail fell slantways, bouncing off Stevie’s nose and down Billy’s mane. Stevie knew that horses hate hail, but Billy was very brave.

Stevie and the policeman rode around a lake that was splashing and bubbling with hail. They went through
woods, and then Stevie saw a high building built on a rock. From up there the view would be great when it wasn’t hailing. She knew this must be Belvedere Castle.

The policeman steered the horse up the rise. They came to brightly painted wooden stairs.

“You stay here,” he said, dismounting and handing her the reins.

But Stevie couldn’t just sit there. She had to see her class. She slid off Billy, tied the reins to the railing, and ran up the stairs.

The castle was empty.

“They never made it,” Stevie said.

The policeman pulled the walkie-talkie from under his slicker and spoke into it. “We’ve got a school group missing somewhere in the neighborhood of Belvedere Castle.” The walkie-talkie exploded with words that Stevie couldn’t understand.

“No one has seen them,” the policeman said.

Stevie knew she had to be calm. “Something happened on the way here,” she said. She looked down on the park, trying to figure out where they might be. Directly below the castle was a winding walk with a garden planted around it.

“Let’s look over there,” she said.

“Let’s get back on Billy,” the policeman said. “We’ll be able to see better from up there.”

As the policeman guided the horse down the walk,
Stevie’s mind filled with pictures of the horrible things that could have happened to her class. She pushed the images away.

They were following the path when Stevie saw something bright out of the corner of her eye. It was yellow and green and red, like Ms. Dodge’s scarf.

“There,” she said, pointing. The policeman steered Billy under a dripping tree and past bushes whose leaves had been torn off by the hail. Ms. Dodge was sitting next to a bush, and Mrs. Martin was holding her hand. The class was standing around them in a frightened circle.

“Stevie!” a classmate said. “You found us.”

Stevie climbed off Billy. “Are you okay?” she said to Ms. Dodge. “I’ve been so worried about you.” It was strange, Stevie thought. Somehow she’d known that Ms. Dodge was in trouble.

Ms. Dodge put her chin up. She was pale as a sheet, and her hair was plastered to her head from the rain, but she managed a brave smile. “I’m fine, thank you.” But then she looked miserable. “It’s my fault. I was chasing my scarf. I wasn’t looking where I was going. I fell and twisted my ankle.”

“It’s not your fault,” said Mrs. Martin, patting her hand.

“I’m such a fool,” said Ms. Dodge.

Stevie remembered how Ms. Dodge had comforted her when she had felt like a jerk. “You are no such
thing,” she said, sitting on the grass next to her. “You are a wonderful person.”

Spots of color came back to Ms. Dodge’s cheeks. Stevie could tell that she felt a little better.

The policeman knelt next to Ms. Dodge. Gently he felt her ankle and lifted her foot.

Ms. Dodge blinked, but otherwise she gave no sign that she was in pain.

“We’ll have to get this checked,” the policeman said, putting her foot down. “But first we have to get you to a warm, dry place. Can you get to your feet? I’ll help you.”

Ms. Dodge looked up at him shyly. “I think I might be able to.”

As he helped her up, she winced and turned pale again. It was obvious that she wouldn’t be able to walk.

The policeman looked at her thoughtfully. “Have you ever been on a horse?”

“Me?” said Ms. Dodge. “Oh, never.”

“There’s always a first time,” the policeman said with a grin. He turned to Stevie. “Can you bring Billy over here?”

“You bet,” said Stevie. She went to get the horse. Only then did she notice that the hail had turned to rain.

When Stevie brought the horse over, the policeman turned to Ms. Dodge. “I’m going to make a stirrup with
my hands. Step into it with your left foot. And then see if you can lift your injured leg over the saddle.”

Ms. Dodge looked doubtfully at the horse.

“You can do it,” Stevie said. “Ms. Dodge, I can tell you’re a great natural rider.”

“You’re just saying that,” said Ms. Dodge.

“No,” Stevie said. “I’m sure.”

Carefully Ms. Dodge put her left foot into the policeman’s cupped hands.

“Put your hand on my shoulder,” he said.

Shyly Ms. Dodge did so.

“Um,” the policeman said to Stevie, “maybe you could give her a push.”

“Absolutely,” Stevie said. If someone had told her that she was going to do this, she would have thought he was crazy. She put her hands on Ms. Dodge’s behind and pushed her up.

“Up you go,” the policeman said.

“Oh,” Ms. Dodge said. She lifted her leg and swung it over the saddle.

The class cheered. “Way to go, Ms. Dodge.” Ms. Dodge smiled.

“If ever there was a photo opportunity, it’s this,” Stevie said. She whipped out her camera and took a picture of Ms. Dodge riding the bay horse. “We’re going to put this one in the yearbook, Ms. Dodge,” she said.

T
HE
POLICEMAN
LED
the horse around the edge of a little pond and stopped in front of a sign that said
STAGE
DOOR
. He knocked on the door, which was opened by a man in a green parka. “There’s been an accident,” the policeman said. “These people need somewhere dry to wait for help.”

“You bet,” said the man in the parka. Stevie figured he must be a watchman.

The policeman said to Ms. Dodge, “I want you to ease your way back into my arms and I’ll lift you down.”

Ms. Dodge looked worried.

“You can do it,” Stevie said. “The trick is to relax.”

“Relax, relax,” Ms. Dodge whispered to herself.

Stevie knew that Ms. Dodge was getting more and more nervous. “How about a knock-knock joke?” she asked.

Ms. Dodge looked at her with wonder.

“It will help you relax,” said Stevie.

“Ready,” Ms. Dodge said with a smile.

“Knock knock,” said Stevie.

“Who’s there?” said Ms. Dodge.

“Beemer,” said Stevie.

“Beemer who?” said Ms. Dodge.

“ ‘Beemer love,’ ” sang Stevie. “ ‘And with your kisses end this yearning.’ ”

Ms. Dodge giggled. The policeman reached up and pulled her gently from the saddle.

“That wasn’t so bad,” said Ms. Dodge.

The policeman turned to Stevie. “Will you tie up my horse? I’ll help her inside.”

“Absolutely,” Stevie said cheerfully. She tied Billy to a bicycle rack. “Thanks, Billy. You were a real hero today,” she told the horse, giving him a quick pat.

As Stevie walked through the door, she thought,
Here I am. Backstage at last.
She had read that there were performances of Shakespeare plays in the park during the summer. “At last, the big time,” she said to herself.

She looked around and saw bare tables and old folding
chairs. There was a poster for
Hamlet
on the wall, but it had seen better days. When you got right down to it, this backstage was kind of crummy.

“Oh,” said Stevie in a disappointed voice. “That’s it? I thought backstage would be fancy.”

The policeman grinned at her. “I know what you mean. The first time I went backstage, I was disappointed, too.”

“But this is where Hamlet puts on his makeup,” said Ms. Dodge. “This is where Hamlet turns into Hamlet.”

The policeman turned to the watchman. “Is there any way we can get something hot for these people to drink? They’re soaked.”

The watchman scratched his head. Stevie guessed that he spent most of his time alone and that he was disconcerted by all these people. “I think so,” he said. “Let me see.” He rummaged in a corner and came up with an electric teapot. “We could heat some water,” he said. “I’ve got some cocoa somewhere.”

“That would be wonderful,” Mrs. Martin said. She smiled and nodded as he filled the pot and plugged it in.

The policeman pulled his walkie-talkie from under his poncho. When he turned it on, it erupted into static. He made a face and waited for the static to stop. “I’m in the backstage area at the Delacorte Theatre. I’ve got six kids and two adults here. One adult needs medical attention.” The walkie-talkie blasted noise at him, but he
seemed to understand it. “There’s an ambulance coming for you,” he said to Ms. Dodge. “And a police car to take the rest of you back to your hotel. But someone will have to go along in the ambulance.”

“I can’t,” said Mrs. Martin. “I have to stay with the students.” She looked at Stevie. “Stevie, I think you should take Ms. Dodge to the hospital.”

Stevie stood up straighter, her heart swelling with pride.

The watchman reappeared with a stack of cups and a box of cocoa. “Thank you,” said Mrs. Martin. “Let me do the honors.”

“Huh?” said the watchman.

“Let me make the cocoa,” Mrs. Martin said.

“Suit yourself,” said the watchman.

Mrs. Martin measured cocoa into each cup and poured hot water in. There was only enough water to make half a cup of cocoa for each person, but everyone was glad to have even that.

“I would like to propose a toast,” said Ms. Dodge.

“Fine idea,” said Mrs. Martin.

“I would like to toast Stevie for rescuing the class. I don’t know how she did it, and I probably don’t want to know, but I’m glad she did.”

Stevie had to smile. “I’ve got to get a photo of this,” she said. “No one will ever believe that a teacher toasted me unless I have evidence.” She pulled her camera out
of her backpack and took a shot of Ms. Dodge and then one of the policeman. And then she took one of Ms. Dodge with the policeman. And then she gave the camera to Helen to take a shot of her with Ms. Dodge and the policeman.

“Hey, wait a second,” the policeman said with a grin. He put his police hat on Stevie’s head.

“My parents are
really
not going to believe this,” said Stevie with a laugh. She turned to Ms. Dodge. “When they see it, they’ll be toasting
you.

“You did it all yourself, Stevie,” said Ms. Dodge.

“I wonder,” said the policeman, pulling his mustache, “if I might have a few of those photographs. As a memory of an … unusual occasion.”

“You bet,” said Stevie. “Give me your address.” The policeman gave her a formal-looking white card. His name was Michael Hill.

“I was also wondering …” Officer Hill paused. “Um.” He looked at Ms. Dodge. Stevie could tell that he thought Ms. Dodge was wonderful and that he wanted to keep in touch with her.

“You’re worried about Ms. Dodge’s ankle,” Stevie said. “Maybe she should write and tell you how it is.”

Ms. Dodge turned pink. “Stevie!” she said.

“A very good idea,” Mrs. Martin said with a smile. “1 think that is something that must be done.”

The policeman gave Ms. Dodge a card. Stevie
thought this was a strange way to start a romance, but it seemed to be working.

A
N
AMBULANCE
CAME
and the attendants put Ms. Dodge on a stretcher and loaded it into the back.

“Where do I go?” said Stevie, staring at the ambulance. There didn’t seem to be any place for her.

An attendant showed her a pull-down seat next to Ms. Dodge.

BOOK: The Painted Horse
4.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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