For Sale or Swap - Alyssa Brugman [65]
She opened the front door and skipped down the hallway. Usually at this time she would be pulling off her grubby Pony Club uniform to throw into the wash, but today she was almost clean.
'Hello!' she called out.
'We're in here,' her father called from the lounge room. There was something in his voice that sounded grim.
'What is it?' she asked, peering around the corner. Her mother and father were sitting on the lounge.
'Come and sit down,' he said.
Shelby squeezed into the space between her parents.
Her father began. 'While you were away today, we had a phone call. It was Mr Olsen. Apparently a few days ago his daughter was riding Blue and she took a bit of a spill.'
'Is she OK?' Shelby asked.
Her father shook his head. 'That little girl won't be riding again – at least not for a long, long time.'
'Was it Blue's fault?' Shelby asked.
'Not really. Mr Olsen said he shied away from something and the girl wasn't expecting it,' said Shelby's mother. 'It's very serious.'
'That's terrible,' said Shelby. 'I hope she'll be all right.'
Shelby's father looked at his hands. 'It's a dangerous hobby. We've always known that. That's why we say you must always, always wear a helmet.'
'I do!' protested Shelby. 'Or at least I did.'
'Shelby, Mr Olsen rang because Blue is for sale. He's offered him to us first,' explained Shelby's father.
'Really?' asked Shelby. She couldn't believe it. After all this time things could go back to normal – back to the way they were. 'Can we buy him?'
Her parents looked at each other. 'Shelby, Mr Olsen wants three thousand dollars.'
Three thousand dollars.
Shelby's family struggled to scrape together the eighty dollars for the Pony Club membership fees. Shelby's brothers were wearing school shorts that had patches on patches. Where on earth were they going to get three thousand dollars?
33 A Magic Trick
Shelby sat on the edge of the water trough in Bandit's yard.
'I can't ask them to do it. It's not fair. And even if I did ask, they wouldn't be able to. It's a huge amount of money – more than I can even think about.'
Erin tipped a bag of chaff into the bin behind Shelby.
'Can't you get a job or something?' she suggested.
'Doing what? I can get a paper run, but even a long one is only about twenty-five bucks a week. It would take years even if I saved every cent.'
Erin frowned. 'Maybe we could hold a fundraiser or something?'
'Three thousand dollars – that's an awful lot of raffle tickets. No, Erin. I'm just going to have to live with it. Nobody will ever love him as much as I do, but there's probably lots of families who can look after him just as well.' She thought about the Mulligans.
'Maybe even better. Maybe one day when I'm grown up I can get another horse, but for now I'm just going to have to find a new hobby – like collecting stamps.' She stood up, sighing. 'I'd better get going.'
It was still early, but she had to walk home. Her father had dropped her off at the stables in the morning, but he wasn't able to pick her up again. He said he had some chores to do. Shelby started the long walk home across the gully.
It was a beautiful day. The sun shone down warming her hair and face, but there was a cool breeze blowing through the trees.
When she got to the causeway she took off her shoes and splashed through the cool water, stopping at the other side to wait for her feet to dry – waggling her toes in the warm sun, before she put her shoes back on. She saw a goanna scuttling away into the bushes and she wondered if it was the same one that had spooked Brat so much.
Shortly afterwards she heard the sound of hoof beats coming along the path. She leaned forward to see who it might be. It was Lindsey on one of the riding school's horses – a big Clydesdale cross.
'Where are you headed?' asked Lindsey, smiling.
'I'm going home – up on the other side of the gully.'
Lindsey tilted her head to the side. 'Do you want a lift? I was going to head up that way anyway.'
'That would be great,' grinned Shelby.
Using the stirrup, Shelby climbed up behind Lindsey