Mama slathered my arms and legs in a tan-colored lotion. “Now try not to scratch,” she said.
I stared at myself in disgust. I looked as ugly on the outside as I felt on the inside. “Can I walk over to Granny’s?”
“Sure,” Mama said. “Go ahead.”
Since the door was always unlocked, I let myself in. Granny was sitting in her recliner with her bad leg propped up. Every weekday at one, she fixed herself a glass of sweet tea and watched All My Children.
“What happened to your poor arms and legs?” Granny asked.
I sat down on the green vinyl couch. “Doctor Kern said I have hives.”
“Bless your heart,” Granny said. She lowered the footrest on her recliner. “Sarah Beth, run get the hairbrush and I’ll braid your hair.”
I sat on the floor in front of Granny while she brushed and braided. Granny kept her eyes fixed on the television. “That Erica Kane is mean as the devil,” she said.
I liked All My Children too, especially the romance between Tara and Phil. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing,” Granny said. “Sssh, now. It just started.”
Granny got fighting mad when Erica tried to break up Tara and Phil. She said, “If I could get my hands on that Erica, I’d give her a good switching.”
I knew Reverend Reece had told Granny watching soap operas was a sin, but she didn’t care two hoots what he thought about it. Granny had told the reverend if her worst sin was enjoying a good story, she’d probably get to heaven before he did.
Granny kept brushing my hair, and I kept rooting for Tara and Phil. For a little while, my arms and legs didn’t itch. I forgot what really happened on the day of the accident and about my fight with Ruby Lee. Granny and I loved a good soap opera.
On the walk back home, I thought about the story I had told Robin the night before. I looked at all the open land between Grandpa’s house and Uncle John’s. There was plenty of grass, and Grandpa had some extra fence posts in the barn.
When I got home, I settled down at the kitchen table with my journal and a copy of the Tucker Post. I circled an ad in the classifieds: “Pony for Sale Only $50.”
Next I made a list:
- Plenty of pasture land.
- Extra fence posts in Grandpa’s barn.
- Pony could stay at Grandpa’s during the winter.
- $25 left over from my birthday.
- Granny and Grandpa could loan me the rest.
A pony would be the perfect way to keep Robin’s spirits up. All I had to do was convince my parents.
After Robin fell asleep for the night, Mama and Dad rocked on the porch swing.
I took my favorite spot on the steps. “Granny says we have to keep Robin’s spirits up.”
“You’re good at that,” Mama said. “I heard you telling her a story last night. Entertaining her is a big help.”
“But I know a better way to help.” I pulled the newspaper ad from my pocket. “Just like in the Billy and Blaze books, Robin wants a pony more than anything.”
“As much as I’d like to buy her one, we can’t afford it,” Dad said.
Mama gasped. “Let me see that paper.”
I picked up my journal. “The pony only costs fifty dollars. I have twenty-five dollars left over from my birthday, and Granny and Grandpa will pay for the rest.” I hadn’t asked them yet, but I knew they’d say yes.
“Absolutely not!” Mama said. “What if Robin were to get hurt again?”
Dad put his arm around Mama’s shoulders. “Maybe we should think through this before we say no. We can’t lock Robin away in a padded room.” He pulled Mama a little closer to him. “Robin’s got a hard row to hoe ahead of her, and a pony would give her something to look forward to.”
“Having a pony would help her get well.” I was sure of it.
Mama stood up and peeked inside to check on Robin. “Still asleep,” she said. “I know the two of you are right about a pony making her happy, but I’m still too nervous.”
Dad nodded. “Perfectly natural,” he said. “But we’ve got to move past it.”
Mama paced back and forth across the porch. “Being a parent is so hard,” she said. “I should have been watching Robin instead of working in the garden. If I’d stayed close by, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”
My hand flew to my mouth. Instead of blaming me, Mama blamed herself. A soft voice inside me whispered. But it wasn’t Mama’s fault. It wasn’t Mama’s fault. It was mine. I wanted to tell her the truth, I really did, but when I opened my mouth only a moan came out. “Aaaah.” I started scratching my arms and legs.
“Stop that!” Mama scolded. “You’ll cause those places to scar.”
They itched so much I didn’t care. Mama held out her hand. “Come on. I’ll rub some more lotion on your hives.”
“But can we get Robin a pony?” I begged.
“Stop pestering me,” Mama said. “I already said no.”
I tiptoed into the room I shared with Robin and climbed into bed. I wished I knew some way to change Mama’s mind.
“Tell me a story,” Robin whispered.
“You’re supposed to be asleep.”
“But I woke up. Now I want a story.”
I was ready. I wanted to make the story even better by adding some more action in the middle. “Okay, after Grandpa and Robin decorated the wagon, they hitched up King and Nick. The wagon looked so pretty that Robin just knew they would win a blue ribbon, but then it started to rain. Rain fell like it was being poured from a bucket. Rain pounded against King and Nick.”
“What about the decorations?” Robin asked.
“Ruined. The decorations were ruined.”
“I don’t like this story,” Robin complained.
“Just wait, it’ll get better. So thunder boomed. Rumble, roar, crash, crack! Lightning streaked across the sky. The storm scared King, and he jumped. Nick jumped too. It was a runaway wagon!”
“Then what happened?” Robin asked.
“Well, Grandpa was sawing on the reins, trying to get those horses under control, but he wasn’t having much luck. Then Robin started talking to them. She shouted, ‘Whoa, Nick. That’s a good boy. It’s all right now. Nothing to worry about. Whoa.’ Those horses listened to Robin because she had always petted them and brought them carrots.”
“I was their friend,” Robin said.
“That’s right. So King and Nick slowed to a trot. Finally, they slowed to a walk, and the sun came out as bright as a big lemon drop in the sky. Robin had saved the day!”
“That’s one of your best stories,” she whispered right before she fell asleep.