'They did it,' Shelby said, climbing into the car. 'They
stole Diablo.'
'Did they confess?' her mother asked.
'No.'
'Did you see evidence?'
Shelby fastened her seatbelt. 'Kind of. Not exactly.'
The car rattled as it sped up, joining the flow of traffic. 'Then how do you know?' her mother asked, grimacing as the gears crunched.
Shelby's father had been playing around with the clutch again after their trip up the coast. Sometimes he took apart bits of the car because they needed fixing, but Shelby thought he took it apart this time simply because he had the week off over Easter, and the Alfa was his favourite toy.
Shelby crossed her arms. 'Lindsey is right. They are bad people. They put shoes on their horses and tie their heads down. You should have seen the bits they use. They were going to nail metal to Diablo's feet and make him run around with a tie-down, and maybe they would let him stand in a dirt paddock for an hour a day in hobbles. It's like those pictures you see on the internet with the bears getting their bile removed, or the bonsai cats in bottles.'
'Honey, have you ever actually seen pictures of bonsai cats on the internet?'
'No.' Shelby frowned. 'But only because, if I think there are any coming up, I close my eyes and make Erin switch the page.'
Shelby's brothers had recently started playing soccer, and on the way home Shelby's mum stopped to pick them up from training. While they waited in the car, watching the final minutes of the training session, Shelby told her mother about learning to do the stand-aside.
'So everything was fine. Great, in fact! The Zeb man said I was a natural, which is what I thought, and then the man came out screaming at everyone. Sneaky Keisha went and dobbed on me. If she had a problem with me being there she could have said it to my face. Anyway, the man – I think he's Zeb's son – he's shouting that I'm going to fall off and sue them. Then he accused Zeb of always taking in strays. He said every time he brings in a stray they get into trouble. Zeb is bellowing back that he is an elder and deserves respect. Then the son yelled that Molly was a stray, and then she yelled back that he was a pig. And he is! He was so rude. He could have just said that he didn't want me there. He didn't need to call me names!'
Shelby's mother tucked her hand inside her sleeve and used the cuff to wipe the inside of the windscreen. Blake was at one side of the field with the smaller children. They each had a ball and were attempting to bounce it on their knees with very little success. One of the girls managed to bounce it twice and then catch it. The coach cheered and clapped his hands over his head, and then ruffled the girl's hair.
Connor was at the other side of the oval in a line with the older children, who were taking turns to dribble the ball around a row of witches' hats. When the ball got away from Connor just before the last hat, Shelby's mum sighed. 'Ooh, nearly.'
'Are you even listening?' Shelby demanded.
'He called you names,' her mother replied.
'Yes, he said I was kibitzing! What is that, anyway?'
Her mother's mouth twitched in a smile. 'I think it means interfering – being a busybody.'
'I wasn't even!' Shelby protested. 'I meant to kibitz, but I never got around to it.'
Her mother put her hand over her mouth, smothering a giggle.
'I'm glad you think it's funny, Mum.' Shelby stared out the window again, annoyed that her mother seemed to be so interested in the soccer. Her mother never went to Pony Club – even on the competition days. 'How long does this go for, anyway?'
'Shouldn't be much longer.'
The coach brought the kids into a circle and talked to them. At the end the kids all cheered. Shelby could hear them from inside the car. 'Go! Go! Gully Goats!' Each child high-fived the team-mates standing on either side of them. The group broke up and Connor and Blake looked around for their mother. Blake spied them, waved, and then the two boys jogged towards the car.
'He wasn't the only one calling names. You know what else?' Shelby grumbled. 'Zeb wanted to change Blue's name to "The Great Fandango".'
'The Great Fandango?' her mother repeated.
'That's what I said. He called him Fandy for short. Fandy!' Shelby huffed.
'Fandy, eh?' Shelby's mother bit her lip. She wasn't laughing, but she was close. 'Maybe you should go back and –'
'I'm not going back there,' Shelby interrupted. 'That horrible man basically chased me off the property. He told me not to come back or he would call the police and charge me with trespassing, even though Zeb invited me. I didn't just barge in there. So then he stood over me with these big, evil eyes glaring while I took their saddle off Blue. I was all flustered so I couldn't undo the buckles properly. I liked it better when he was yelling. Then Blue and I took off back to the stables.'
The two boys spilled into the car. Blake was wrig-gling with excitement. 'First we hit the ball with our feet, and guess what we did after that, Mum?'
'What?'
'No, you have to guess!'
'Umm . . . Did cartwheels?'
'No, guess again.'
'Had a lamb roast?'
'No, silly! We hit the ball with our heads!'
'Did it hurt?' she asked.
Blake shook his head. 'Nuh-uh.' He licked his lips, which were chapped and red, so it looked as if he had pink lipstick on. 'A little bit, but it was fun anyway. What's for dinner?'
'Rissoles,' his mum answered.
'Again?' Shelby complained.
'Your brothers like them.'
'Yeah, we love 'em, so tough,' Connor said.
The two boys began an earnest discussion about the merits of gravy over tomato sauce as an accompaniment to a variety of meat dishes. Shelby tuned out.
After a few minutes her mother said to Shelby, 'That was interesting what Zeb's son said about strays, though, don't you think? He could have meant Diablo.'
Shelby was glad that her mother had been listening after all. 'Then wouldn't he have said "stray horses"? No, I bet he stole Diablo. I bet he doesn't want me there because he's doing illegal stuff and he knows I'm onto him.'
They drove on in silence.
'Well, that's that then.'
Shelby looked out the window, still fuming just thinking about it.
Behind her the boys had moved on to a critique of the various barbecue sauce brands available.
'Big Ricks is awesome,' conceded Blake, 'but I think I prefer the one in the yellow bottle with the honey.'
'Taste-wise yes, but in a sandwich it's too runny,' Connor added.
Blake stroked his chin. 'Ah, yes. Good point.'
Her mother sighed. 'I really want to know what happened to Diablo now. It will always bug me.'