For Sale or Swap - Alyssa Brugman [53]
Hayley was having a harder time. Ditto was going in the Turnout class and so his mane had to be secured with thread. To make it that little bit more difficult, Ditto was vigorously enjoying his breakfast, sifting through the feed with his nose to search out the sweet grain. 'Hold still, you stupid horse!' Hayley shouted.
'And so you see,' said Mrs Crook, giving Shelby a wink, 'our Hales is not exactly a morning person.'
With all three horses plaited and bandaged, the rugs were put back on again and the girls led them onto the float. Mrs Crook told Shelby that she was in charge of Echo for the day, and Shelby beamed. 'No problem, Mrs C.'
As they were pulling out of the driveway Kim and her mother were driving in the other way. The girls waved to each other from inside the cars. Shelby couldn't help grinning. She was part of a gang now.
Hayley seemed to have perked up a little bit. As they drove along she turned up the CD player and they all sang together. Mrs Crook sang along too. Shelby thought it would be cool to have a mum who knew the words to the latest songs and didn't just listen to fuddy-duddy talkback radio.
Shelby watched out the window as they drove into the showgrounds. She could see the skeletal curve of the Ferris wheel above the tents and caravans. Dodgem cars were lined up in a tidy row along one side of their rubber arena, and the carriages of the Tilt-a-Whirl and Rock-and-Roll stood still and empty. Shelby watched as a young boy stocked the back wall of a caravan with plush toys, colourful tinsel wigs and other trinkets. In front of him, a row of clown faces stared out with their mouths open.
Beside the clowns was an empty patch of grass. A man was staking pickets into the ground with a large mallet, swinging it rhythmically behind his back and then over his head. Shelby could hear the heavy clink sound as the head of the mallet connected with the rounded top of the picket. Behind him she could see a rusty cattle truck. Pete's Pony Rides was written along the side in faded red paint.
On the other side of the grounds there were already several trucks and floats lined up in raggle-taggle rows. Mrs Crook sought out a little patch of ground that they could call home for the day and stopped, pulling up the handbrake.
'Here we go, girls,' she said, turning around to look at Erin and Shelby in the back.
'Thanks for driving us,' Shelby said.
'Pleasure, treasure,' she replied.
They tied the horses to rings along the float's side and then gave them another brush down, a coat of black polish on their hooves and a rub of baby oil to their faces. Mrs Crook tidied up a few of the rosettes that had come loose along the way.
The air was quiet and still except for the steady hum of all the carnival caravan generators. Suddenly the tooting, nasal sound of an organ started up and the Ferris wheel rolled around in a slow, lazy loop. Then the music cut out and the Ferris Wheel stopped, its metal carriages swaying.
'Thank heavens for that,' said Mrs Crook, opening the back of the four-wheel drive to give the equipment one last rub-down ready for the first class.
The girls wandered across the centre ring of the showground to find the Steward's stand to collect a program for the day and buy tickets.
Hayley looked over the program thoroughly, frowning. She shook her head.
'What is it?' asked Erin.
'The Pony and Galloway classes are on at the same time. That's OK in the led class, because Mum can take Echo, but she can't take him under saddle. We should have left him at home if he's only going to go in led.'
Shelby was glad that they'd brought him along. At least she could pretend to have a horse.
Back at the float they all had sandwiches for breakfast washed down with fruit cordial. Hayley complained that she wanted chips, but Shelby was enjoying squishing the fresh bread down with her fingers.