Want a marshmallow?”

Abigail burst into the room soon after Pru woke up, waving a half-empty bag in Pru’s face.

“What?” Pru squinted at the bag, then at Abigail, and finally at Lucky and Solana, who were standing at the foot of her bed. “Ew. No.” She sat up and yawned. Pru asked Abigail, “I thought you were never eating another marshmallow, ever.”

“That was yesterday. Today’s a new day,” Abigail said happily, popping a sweet fluffy treat into her mouth.

“Rise and shine,” Solana said. She had Pru’s clown costume in her hand. “We’re here to help you get ready for the best clown exhibition ever.”

“It’s going to be so great that you’ll be in the paper, and everyone will be talking about it for years,” Lucky said as Solana handed Pru the costume. “Okay, maybe not years. And we really don’t have an idea yet, but we are here to help!” From behind her back, Lucky surprised Pru with a plate of pancakes and a cup of steaming tea.

“We knew you’d want to work all day,” Abigail said. “So eat up. We’re ready to help!”

After they’d said good night to Lydia, Pru had fallen asleep late and had nightmares about getting into the ring and having it be like the old days, where she panicked and couldn’t do anything. In her dreams, she just stood there, mouth agape, staring at the silent crowd. After a few minutes they began to boo. And boo. And boo. And boo.

It was the worst dream ever.

After she woke up, Pru tried to calm herself by thinking of something her dad might say in this situation, but all she could come up with was “You gotta get back on the horse that threw ya.” It didn’t apply to this situation. She wished he was here so she could ask him for advice.

And then, just as she was getting ready to write a letter home, her friends arrived—eager and ready to help. Pru couldn’t stop smiling.

“Thanks,” Pru said, taking breakfast from Lucky. She ate it quickly and then put on her costume.

“Boomerang is dressed, too,” Abigail said as they went outside. There Boomerang was, wearing his own clown costume with his mane and tail braided. “I made him extra pretty for you today,” Abigail said. “He fussed at first, but I shared the marshmallows and now we’re good.”

Boomerang burped and an uneaten marshmallow fell out of his mouth. Abigail scooped it up and put it back in the bag. “I’ll save that one for later,” she said.

“I convinced Estrella to let us have the practice tent for extra time today. Since so many acts have already gone, she agreed,” Solana said.

They made their way to the small tent and Pru set up the drums.

Boomerang rejected the idea of playing. Pru gave a look to Chica Linda. They had all heard her play, but she stepped back now, still unwilling to perform.

Spirit wasn’t a musical kind of horse, so Pru didn’t even bother to ask.

“Okay, new ideas…” She tapped her forehead with a finger.

“Let’s do what we’d do at home,” Lucky suggested.

Pru didn’t understand.

“Just ride,” Lucky said. “We’re trying too hard to be different. Maybe something will come out of us all acting normal.”

Pru nodded and hopped up onto her own horse’s back. It felt good to be back on Chica Linda, and Pru leaned into the familiarity of riding her own steed. Chica Linda was made for competition. She loved racing and jumping nearly as much as Pru did. When Pru squeezed her legs and gave Chica Linda the signal to run, the horse went wild. She bucked up, as if cheering for the freedom, and took off at a gallop around the ring.

There weren’t many obstacles, but what she could find, Chica Linda rode around. Someone had left out two chairs, and Pru and Chica Linda circled them like barrels. There was a stack of weights left by the strongman. Chica Linda jumped over those, as if over a fence. She wove through the acrobat’s crates of costumes and then started around the circuit again.

Abigail and Boomerang set out after Pru and Chica Linda. Abigail hadn’t told anyone, but Solana had sneakily helped her turn those marshmallows into little paintballs by dipping them in colorful dyes. Abigail started throwing them at her friends, and her friends’ horses. Solana was throwing more from the stands.

Pop. A blue splat hit Pru’s cheek. She couldn’t tell if it was from Abigail or Solana.

“Let’s go, Chica,” Pru told her horse, hugging down tightly on her neck. “Don’t let them paint you!”

Lucky and Spirit joined the fun, with Lucky doing a trick and hanging to the side of Spirit’s back. She managed to get close to Abigail and nab a few of the colored marshmallows from the bag.

Lucky tossed the marshmallow paintballs at Abigail, who got hit with yellow and green. Dye dripped down her leg and onto Boomerang.

“I’ve got you, Pru!” Abigail threw two purple pellets, but instead of hitting Pru, tagged Chica Linda.

When the marshmallows ran out, Spirit was the only clean horse. The others were covered in dye.

They all slowed down and, laughing, rode over to where Solana had been watching.

“That was hysterical,” Solana said. “You guys should do that in the act!”

“But… we’re not clowns,” Abigail said.

“We’re just trying to help Pru get in the paper,” Lucky said.

Pru studied her friends and their horses…. There was no rule that said she had to perform alone… and it was an exhibition, so maybe…

She thought more about Solana’s idea.

The paintballs were fun… but a whole clown act was more than just one thing. Could the PALs and all the horses do a show together? Just this once?

She leaned down to Chica Linda, who didn’t want to clown around in the first place, but was now acting a lot like a clown horse, covered messily in dye and all. Pru whispered a plan into Chica Linda’s ear, and this time, her horse didn’t refuse.