Chapter Sixteen

 

Thursday, September 19^th, 6:10 p.m.

 

To celebrate Lincoln High winning their first cross-country meet, we swung through Kentucky Fried for chicken on the way home. As soon as we arrived, Jack headed for the barn to do chores. I’d just walked in the kitchen when the phone rang. I hurried for the landline. “Hello.”

“It’s me,” Jack said. “Your horse has colic. Tell the folks and I’ll start walking him.”

“I’ll be right there.” I turned to Mom. “Twaziem colicked again. I’m changing and going to the barn.”

“Okay, I’ll mix up a mineral oil cocktail,” Mom said.

“I’ll get the drugs.” Dad headed for the refrigerator and the drawer where we kept horse medications. “We’ll save him this time, Robbie. No problem.”

“I wonder why he’s sick. He was fine when I fed lunch,” Mom said.

I left the two of them talking as they worked and hustled to my room. It only took five minutes to switch from my track suit to jeans, a T-shirt, and sweatshirt. I pushed my cell into the back pocket of my jeans so I could call Dr. Larry if we needed him. Then, after a pause in the back porch for my boots, I was off to the barn.

When I arrived, Jack already had Twaziem in the indoor arena. Pinned back ears, evil glares and if a horse could stomp his hooves, mine was about to have a serious meltdown. He snaked his head around and tried to bite at my brother again. I went across the ring and took the lead. Twaz’s mood instantly changed. Ears up, he nuzzled me. “Yes, I’m here to save you, baby.”

“He’s a baby with teeth,” Jack told me, rubbing his arm. “I’ve seen dogs lunge like that with their mouths wide open, but never a horse. This guy has some issues. I’m going to take care of everyone else and then go find the ice.”

“He’s lucky to have you on his side,” I said, towing Twaziem around the arena. “A lot of guys would walk off and let him die because of his crappy attitude.”

“I’m destined to be a hero.” Whistling, Jack headed off to shovel horse poop.

“You’ve got to get over yourself.” I petted Twaziem’s brown neck. “My brother will never hurt you. He’s not like that creep, Caine. Okay?”

Another bump with his nose and I kept walking him. “No, you don’t get any carrots right now. You have to get over your tummy troubles and I need to hear your gut rumbling first, plus I need to see and count lots of turds. Dad will never let me have the Mustang if he has to pay another vet bill for you, so we better not need Dr. Larry tonight.”

 

* * * *

 

Friday, September 20^th, 7:40 a.m.

 

I barely got to school on time the next morning, and of course, we were on assembly schedule today. Luckily, I had Mr. Sutcliffe for Algebra instead of eagle eye, rule worshipping Mrs. Weaver. He waited at the door and held my mocha while I yawned my way through my backpack, hunting out my math homework.

“Late party last night after the cross-country team won the meet?” Mr. Sutcliffe asked, his brown eyes crinkling with laughter and a big, warm smile on his face.

“I wish,” I said. “My silly horse colicked, probably because supper was late, and I was up with him till three in the morning.”

“Oh, no.” Dani stopped behind me and unzipped her backpack to do the homework hunt. “Is he okay? What did Dr. Larry say?”

“To get used to colics because it’s a problem that a lot of horses have when they’re so debilitated.” I handed over the paper to Mr. Sutcliffe and took back my coffee. “And then he told me to stop having my nails done and to have the artificial ones removed because they’ll rip through the glove when I have to stick my arm up Twaziem’s tushie and clean out the poop.”

Mr. Sutcliffe held out the page as if it came from the barn, not my backpack. “Please tell me you washed your hands before you did your homework.”

Dani laughed and handed over her paper. “Come on, Mr. S. If there was poop on it, you could see it.”

“Yes, but a couple weeks ago she gave me a paper with teeth marks,” Mr. Sutcliffe said. “I knew the assignment was difficult, but I didn’t expect anyone to have to chew their way through it.”

“My cat got it,” I told Dani, “and I didn’t have time to do it over.”

“That’s her story and she’s sticking to it.” Mr. Sutcliffe laughed, a deep rumble. “I’m going with the idea that I’m a tough teacher, and it was a hard assignment.”

“Keep dreaming,” I told him. Still carrying my coffee cup, I headed for my desk.

There was a student pileup at the door. Mr. Sutcliffe admitted this was his first teaching job and he thought we should all be as excited about Math and Science as he was. I had to admire the guy. At least he wasn’t a phony, and he was never mean. Maybe I could talk to him about the installment payments on the Mustang and see if he agreed with my dad about the long-term cost of the car.

I’d barely sat down when Olivia strutted over, flanked by two Native American girls. Olivia was Native, African-American and Asian—absolutely gorgeous and a total witch, only I spelled it with a “b.” Even if she could really run, she’d lost me as an admirer last spring when she pitched a fit at one of the last track meets and called the official a racist for restarting the long distance race because there had been too much messing around.

“What’s up?” I didn’t like looking up at her, so I stood. “You have a problem with me?”

“I don’t like losing,” Olivia said, “especially to princesses like you and your posse.”

“Well, suck it up, buttercup.” I met her glare for glare. “We crossed the finish line first. Fair is fair.” I had to be honest, even with her, so I added, “If Gwen had been stung by those wasps, we’d have lost because she’s hyper allergic.”

“And you wouldn’t have left her,” Cedar sneered.

I let the silence build while I looked at her. She always copied exactly what Olivia wore and tried to act like her, but she didn’t have her friend’s guts. “No more than Olivia would have left you.”

A smile flickered across Olivia’s beautiful brown face, then disappeared. “Exactly, so we’re running with you and your buds starting next practice.”

“But, we hate them,” Kanisha whined.

“They win so we’re running with them.” Olivia’s tone made it a statement, not a question. She turned away. “We’ll see you Monday at practice.”

I knew it was petty, but I didn’t care since her friends were already sniveling. Plus, I was mad. My family might call me Princess Robin, but nobody else better. “You’ve got a problem,” I said.

“Really?” She swung back to face me, ready to call me out for being prejudiced. “What?”

“I run at least six miles a day, every day.” I smiled sweetly. “Since Gwen and Porter are spending the night at my house, we’ll do it tomorrow morning before we go horseback riding. Want to come?”

“No,” Kanisha said. “Monday’s soon enough.”

Olivia shot her a glare that promised retribution later. “When and where?”

Oh, damn. Now, I was stuck with her. Even if I didn’t like the way she played the ‘race card,’ I should have expected her to step up since she had no give-up in her. I tore a sheet of paper out of my binder and wrote down my address and directions. “We have to be at the barn in time for Vicky’s internship at eight, so we’re running at six.”

“In the morning?” Cedar whined. “That sucks.”

“Then, don’t come,” I said.

“We’ll be there,” Olivia told me and walked away, followed by the other two girls.

The final bell rang and Mr. Sutcliffe began his countdown at the door. “You’ve got ten seconds, nine, eight, five...”

“Hey, you skipped some numbers,” Steve griped as he hustled through the door, followed by Vicky and Dani. “You should start over.”

“Not happening.” Mr. Sutcliffe shut the door and headed toward his desk to take attendance on the computer. “Entry task is on the board. Let’s get started, folks. We have a short period and a lot to cover today.”

Vicky plopped down in her chair next to me. “Congratulations on P.R.ing yesterday. That’s terrific.”

“Yeah, right until we got home and Twaz colicked again. Mom’s going to put a new bale of hay in his manger before she leaves next Thursday for the meet.” I caught the glance from Mr. Sutcliffe and hastily pulled out the composition book he insisted we use as a math journal. Then, I worked the three problems, finding solutions for each one.

History followed Algebra. We had our usual Friday quiz. This one was all about early explorers in America. I had to trust my memory, and it was shot since I’d barely had four hours sleep the night before. My coffee was rapidly wearing off when the bell rang and we headed for English. I so didn’t look forward to listening to one of Mrs. Weaver’s lectures.

And of course, today she would decide to talk about sentence structure and how to diagram each part—like I cared what she wanted done with verbs, adverbs, adjectives, nouns, and objects. I had a few suggestions. I felt my head droop and jerked myself awake.

“Robin Gibson, would you repeat the assignment for the class?” Mrs. Weaver asked, coming close to my desk.

I squirmed and wished the chair would swallow me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t understand it.”

Mrs. Weaver stared down her nose at me as if I were a worm. “Would someone like to rescue Robin?”

Dani was the first to speak up. “We’re supposed to write a paragraph of ten sentences, then diagram those sentences. It’s due in twenty minutes, before the bell rings.” She flashed a quick smile at me. “You should write about saving your horse last night. Vet books always go on for pages about colic. It’d be easy to come up with ten lines.”

I so owed her. I nodded and looked at the teacher. “Yeah. I could do what she said.”

“All right.” Mrs. Weaver turned and headed back for her desk. “You’d better get started. You only have eighteen minutes until the bell.”

And she was such a clock-watcher, nobody figured she’d give us an extra minute, much less accept any late work. I opened my binder to a fresh sheet of paper, pulled out a pen and wrote. My horse almost died again last night...