Chapter 46: Mary

I've been working hard with Hero and The Bay. Hero's taught me a lot, and I've passed it along to The Bay. I brought Sarah home for dinner a couple of times, we all had a good time.

"Mary, when are you going to try some competition?"

"I thought I'd enter the State Western Horse Show. It's in a couple of weeks. I called and got the paperwork. Okay if I ride Hero?"

"Good. What's your plan?"

"I'll just do my best. From the shows I've been to so far this spring, I might place as high as 6 or 7, depending on who shows up."

"We'll see."

I had told my Saturday class about the scheduled events and we were working really hard on preparation. Rudy Self said he was going to try a non-sanctioned show the next week. We wished him luck. I thought he'd do well.

When I went back to the stable with Hero, I saw someone sitting on a hay bale. Looked almost like they were hiding. I went and looked. It was Jane Pinski, the girl I'd worked with last fall. She was huddled into a space in the bales, crying. She really didn't hear me coming and her head was in her arms. I went back to Hero, took off my saddle and hooked his bridle to a ring outside his stall.

"Jane, when you have a minute, would you help me out?"

I saw her legs twitch, and after a few moments of furious activity, she slid out of her hole and came over, her eyes mostly dry but still red.

"Will you help me with The Bay? I'll bring him out in the aisle. Just hold his head for me while I check his hooves."

The Bay still had a reputation among the kids, even though he was now a completely reliable horse. Jane was excited I'd asked her to help with him, not knowing I had been doing this little chore without help for months.

I took my time, hoping she'd calm down, get herself together. Then I started saddling him up.

"I'm going to take him out through the woods. You want to ride Hero and come with me?"

We put her saddle on Hero, mounted and rode out of the barn and down the track. She'd learned a lot, handled Hero quite well.

When we could ride side by side, I said, "How do you like riding Hero?"

"He's wonderful. I like him a lot."

"What's the trouble? Home? Or school? Both?"

"Guess you saw me hiding in there. I've been crying so much lately — just can't seem to stop."

"Have you thought about asking for help?"

"From who? School? My folks? Don't make me laugh."

"Boys after you?"

"What else? I'm so scared, I can hardly go to school every day. They keep bumping into me, feeling me up, telling me what they're going to do to me. I feel so dirty."

"Why do you feel dirty? Just because they touch you?"

"No. I mean, they wouldn't do that if I weren't like what they say."

"Are you? Are you like that?"

"No... I don't know why it makes me feel so ashamed."

We walked up the path and down the ride, taking our time. By the time we'd gone around a couple of times, she was calm and could talk about her fears. I tried to help her deal with her shame; reassure her the fault wasn't hers, suggest how she could avoid her tormentors.

"Think about how you work with horses," I said. "They're about as smart as the boys in your school. How would you handle a horse that was trying to bully you?"