CHAPTER SIX
Show-and-Tell

“Fran. Kiera. Jody.”

It was the middle of the next week. Mrs. Ramsey, their teacher, looked at them sternly.

“This is a beautiful picture of a pony jumping. This is a fantastic picture of a pony barrel racing. I love this picture of a pony in the backseat of a car. But you’re in school. You’re supposed to be doing schoolwork.”

Kiera said, “Thank you.” Jody and Fran turned red.

Mrs. Ramsey said, “What can I do to help you three pay attention?”

“Let us bring our pony in?” Kiera said. The class laughed.

But Mrs. Ramsey said, “All right. Bring him in for show-and-tell. Just have someone come along to walk him back home.”

That afternoon Fran, Kiera, and Jody got out both kinds of shampoo. They got buckets and sponges and warm water. They washed Jigsaw. They dried him in the sun. They dried him with the hair dryer. They filled his stall with clean, fresh shavings, so he couldn’t get dirty overnight. In the morning they got up early to brush him. Jody came over to help.

“He’s so white,” Mrs. Shaw said. “Dazzling!”

“And so black,” Mr. Shaw said. “Inky!”

They started to school. Mrs. Shaw went, too, to bring Jigsaw back.

Neighbors came out. “Where are you all going with that pony?”

When they heard, the neighbors told stories about things they’d taken to show-and-tell.

“But never a pony.”

“Right into the classroom?” “Mrs. Ramsey says yes,” Fran said.

When they got to school, no one was on the playground. “Hurry,” Kiera said. “Everyone’s gone inside.”

At the front steps Mrs. Shaw asked, “Can ponies climb stairs?”

“Jigsaw can,” Jody said.

Jigsaw had never climbed stairs before. Most ponies haven’t. But he’d climbed lots of rocky hills. The school stairs looked easy, and they were. Jody and Mrs. Shaw held open the big doors. Fran and Kiera led Jigsaw inside.

“Don’t we need to stop at the office?” Mrs. Shaw asked. “Don’t we need to see the principal?”

“No,” Jody said. “Mrs. Ramsey said bring him in.”

They walked down the hall. Ca-lip ca-lop ca-lippity-clop, went Jigsaw’s feet on the hard floor. Heads popped out of classrooms. The principal’s door opened.

They walked into Mrs. Ramsey’s classroom.

Mrs. Ramsey was taking attendance. “Fran Shaw, not here? Kiera Shaw—oh, my goodness!”

“Are we early for show-and-tell?” Kiera asked.

Mrs. Ramsey shook her head. “N-no. But I thought you’d bring him to the playground. I thought the class would come outside to meet him.”

Kiera and Fran looked at each other. “Well, he’s here now,” Kiera said.

“So, can he stay?” Fran asked.

“I … guess so,” Mrs. Ramsey said. “Come right up to the front of the room!”

Fran and Kiera led Jigsaw up between the desks. Jody went with them. Mrs. Shaw stood back to watch.

Jigsaw looked bigger here than he did outdoors. He made the classroom seem small and crowded. One or two people looked scared.

Not Jigsaw. He tasted a blackboard eraser. It wasn’t good. Chalk wasn’t good either.

The principal came in. “I thought I saw a pony going down the hall!”

“He’s here for show-and-tell,” said Mrs. Ramsey. “I hope that’s all right.”

“It’s certainly a first,” the principal said.

“Class,” Mrs. Ramsey said, “raise your hands if you’d like to ask Kiera and Fran a question about their pony.”

A lot of hands went up. Six people asked, “What’s his name?” Fran and Kiera looked at each other. Fran wanted to say Midnight. Kiera wanted to say Snowflake. But they knew their friends would ask, “Don’t you know your own pony’s name?” And later they’d say, “Boy, the Shaw twins fight about everything!”

“Jigsaw,” they both said together. “His name is Jigsaw.”

There were lots more questions. “What does he eat?” “Does he bite? Or kick?” “Can I ride him?” “Can I?”

“We don’t even ride him yet,” Kiera said.

“We’re waiting for the blacksmith,” Fran said.

Now people came up two by two to pat Jigsaw.

“I love his long whiskers!”

“I love his eyes.”

“His ears are so cute!”

“He’s been a wonderful guest,” Mrs. Ramsey said at last. “Thank you for visiting, Jigsaw.”

Mrs. Shaw led Jigsaw out of the classroom. They stopped in the hall so the principal could pat him, too. Jigsaw tasted some of the art on the walls. It was rather dry.

“I don’t suppose he’d like an apple?” the principal asked. “I brought one with my lunch.”

While Jigsaw was eating the principal’s apple, Mrs. Ramsey was trying to start the school day. “Fran, Kiera, and Jody are going to think about schoolwork now,” she said. “And so is everybody else.”

But for the rest of that day everyone in class thought mostly about Jigsaw.