Steven Fisher - [Merryvale 01] - A Very Strange Land (retail) (pdf)

A Very Strange Land The First Adventure in the Merryvale Series

by

Steven Fisher

ISBN: 0-7443-0308-7

Copyright 2000 by Steven Fisher All Rights Reserved

Published by SynergEbooks http://www.synergebooks.com

2

It wasn‘t going to be our first schooling show. Or our second. But it promised to be the most exciting one. First, because Sarah – my very best friend – and I were determined to jump higher than we ever had before. Well, Sarah was, really. I still wasn‘t too sure. You see, last time I fell off. It wasn‘t a bad fall, but it scared the heck out of me. Second, we were going to a new ranch, one that had sent out a very weird schooling show notice. So, we weren‘t sure what to expect. The fog didn‘t help our nerves any. It rose and settled as if a giant bellows were pumping it across the freeway. My Dad couldn‘t see well as we drove north from Lapton. He grumbled at the weather, then looked in the rear view mirror and grumbled at us. Sarah and I didn‘t return his glance, afraid he would turn around and go back home because we‘d made him go out in such weather. We pretended to do our math homework – there was way too much of it, as usual – but we were too nervous to do anything more than pretend. The truth was, no one seemed to have heard of Merryvale Stables, not even our riding instructor, Karen. But, someone had mailed notices from Merryvale. Very strange notices.

3

Instead of the usual, cheap colored sheets that stables send out, these had been made of an intensely white paper with a fancy, bright-blue script that glowed and smelled of horses and hay – the most wonderful smell in the world. The word spelled out the oddest message: MERRYVALE STABLES INVITES YOU TO A MOST SPECIAL SCHOOLING SHOW -OCTOBER 32ndDON‘T BRING YOUR NAG. HORSES WILL BE PROVIDED. THE SHOW WILL BE HELD IN SPITE OF THE FOG. TAKE FREEWAY NORTH PAST FOREST LAKE. EXIT AT MERRYVALE AT THE HIGHEST RATE OF SPEED YOU CAN MANAGE. ―Is this for real?‖ my father had asked with a laugh when he first read it. ―They didn‘t even get the date right. There is no October 32nd. They must mean the 31st, which is Halloween, of course.‖ Sarah and I had shrugged, not knowing what to say. We‘d been so excited we hadn‘t even noticed the mistake. It‘s always easy to tell when Sarah gets wound up. Her blue eyes open wide, and her blonde hair flies north and south as she jumps up and down, making strange noises. I‘m the quieter one, with brown hair and brown eyes that I get from my mother, but Sarah says she can always tell when I‘m excited too. I do the exact opposite of what she does – I stand stock still as if I‘m afraid if I move it will make whatever wonderful thing I want to happen to disappear.

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I look like a statue, she says, a statue with eyes that vibrate up and down like a window shade that‘s been snapped up. That‘s how I was standing when my Dad had read the message. ―It‘s probably just a typo,‖ I‘d suggested. ―Of course it‘s a typo, Lorelei. What does your instructor say about this? Has she heard of this place?‖ ―It‘s very new,‖ I said carefully, afraid he would say ―No‖. He doesn‘t say ―No‖ often, but he doesn‘t change his mind once he does say it. He‘s stubborn that way. ―Nobody seems to know much about it.‖ ―Hmmmp,‖ he said, obviously not satisfied with my answer. ―Where‘s it located?‖ ―North of Forest Lake, that‘s what it says,‖ Sarah chimed in. Dad gave her an exasperated look, then glanced sharply at me and said, ―‗The show will be held in spite of the fog.‘ How do they know there‘ll be fog?‖ I shrugged and answered, ―Maybe it happens a lot up there.‖ He snorted at that idea, then continued, ―What about this highest speed business? It sounds dangerous to me.‖ ―Not in your Fairmont,‖ I pointed out quickly. ―You always say that the Ford couldn‘t pass a turtle.‖ ―True, Lorelei, but that‘s not what really worries me. They say they‘ll provide the horses. I don‘t like the thought of you two competing on mounts you‘ve never seen before. Sarah, is this okay with your parents?‖

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She answered, ―You know my mother can‘t stand the thought of me riding any horse. She thinks it‘s too dangerous.‖ ―You didn‘t answer my question,‖ Dad said. ―My father said it‘s okay as long as you‘re with us.‖ My Dad studied the flier for at least two centuries of silence, then finally – finally – said, ―Well, if these Merryvale people set out to pique my curiosity, they‘ve certainly done it. We‘ll go and take a look at the horses they‘ve got. If they‘re beyond your level of experience, you won‘t ride-it‘s as simple as that. Or, we‘ll have your instructor bring along your usual mounts-even if they are nags-and you can ride them.‖ I‘d given him the biggest hug I could manage. I hadn‘t admitted it then, but I was worried about riding another strange horse, too. So was Sarah. My regular schooling mount is Noodels, a Palomino-Shetland cross pony with an odd shape and a misspelled name. My Dad makes fun of him and calls him ―Short Stuff Wide-Body‖, but he has a heart twice his size and is reliable, so I feel safe on him. Sarah feels the same way about Lady, a dappled gray pony who‘s a full head higher than Noodels. We didn‘t know anything about the horses we‘d be riding at the Merryvale stables, and the horse I‘d fallen off of at the last schooling show had been one I‘d never ridden before. That‘s why each of us had a herd of butterflies in our stomachs. Knowing that Noodels and Lady would be there kept the butterflies under a little bit of control.

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―I don‘t know why I agreed to this,‖ Dad complained as he peered through the windshield. ―There‘s fog, just like the notice said there would be, and I gotta tell you, that‘s unnatural. Not to mention that I‘ll never find the exit in this soup.‖ ―Then what‘s that?‖ ―Lorelei, stop shouting in my ear!‖ he said, following the direction of my pointing finger. ―What‘s what?‖ ―Can‘t you see it?‖ Sarah asked. ―I can‘t see anything but the fog,‖ my Dad complained. ―How can you miss it?‖ I asked, astonished that he couldn‘t spot the sign. It was impossible to miss. Instead of being rectangular with green and white lettering like the usual freeway exit sign, it was bright red and…well, it wasn‘t only not rectangular, but there wasn‘t any metal sign at all. The letters wrote themselves upon the fog and said: MERRYVALE EXIT CONFIDENCE IS THE KEY! Sarah whispered to me, ―What does that mean?‖ ―I don‘t know,‖ I answered. ―Maybe it means we have to have confidence that this really is the exit.‖ ―I still don‘t see anything,‖ my Dad said. ―Dad, do you trust us?‖ 7

―I always trust you two,‖ he answered, a typical automatic parent answer. What it really meant was that he wanted to find out what we were up to before he decided whether or not to trust us ―We mean, really, really trust us,‖ Sarah said. I could see him struggling to make up his mind--he screws up his face and squints his right eye which is a little bit paralyzed from a surgery-and thought the whole show was off when he said, ―Okay, I trust you. What do you want me to do?‖ ―Take the exit,‖ I said. ―At the highest rate of speed you can manage.‖ ―But I can‘t see the exit!‖ ―I can, Dad. I‘ll guide you.‖ ―It‘s too dangerous, Lorelei!‖ ―I can see it too, Mr. Lee,‖ Sarah said. ―Plain as day,‖ I added. It was true. I couldn‘t believe that my Dad couldn‘t see the exit. It looked like an airport runway with twinkling bright stars replacing strobe lights along the shoulders of the road. I knew if we steered him right, we couldn‘t possibly miss the exit. ―Start turning….now!‖ I told him. ―And speed up,‖ Sarah urged. ―Otherwise, we‘ll never make it.‖ Sweat beaded my Dad‘s forehead as he replied, ―I‘ve got my foot to the floor. This hunk of junk won‘t go any faster.‖

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―Then, that‘s good enough,‖ I reassured him. ―Remember, the flier said ‗the highest rate of speed manageable.‘― I raised up from the seat to look at the speedometer. It read 65 miles per hour. I blinked and looked again. This time it read 650 miles per hour. I turned to Sarah and asked, ―Do you see that?‖ Her gasp confirmed that I wasn‘t crazy. I looked again. The speedometer now read 6,500 mph. Then 65,000 mph. Then, it read: ARE WE HAVING FUN YET? Sarah and I giggled. I decided not to worry about the fact that the Ford‘s instruments are analog and couldn‘t display the red, digital letters we were seeing. ―What are you two laughing about?‖ my Dad asked in an annoyed tone. He had his eyes closed. ―Nothing, Dad. You‘re doing great.‖ At least, I hoped he was. Looking out the window, all of a sudden all I could see was gray. It was like being in an airplane in a cloud. There was no sense of motion. It was as if we were suspended between the freeway and our imaginations. ―Do you believe this?‖ Sarah said to me. ―Well, I sure don‘t believe it,‖ my Dad said before I had a chance to answer. He had his eyes open now. ―Where are we?‖ ―I don‘t know,‖ I answered, ―but I know we‘re going the right direction.‖ ―How do you know that?‖ 9

Sarah and I looked at each other and shrugged. We just knew. ―I hate to sound too practical, girls, but how do we know when we get wherever it is that we‘re going?‖ A thought popped into my head so quickly that it felt as if someone had put it there. ―Turn on the radio,‖ I said. ―What?‖ ―Just turn it on, please.‖ My Dad gave me an exasperated look, but turned it on. Somewhat peevish, a woman‘s voice came out of the speakers, saying, ―Well, it‘s about time, but then it always is, isn‘t it?‖ Sarah and I yelped and threw ourselves against the back seat. ―What‘s the matter with you two?‖ my Dad asked. ―Didn‘t you hear it?‖ I asked. ―Yeah, I heard it.‖ ―Doesn‘t it strike you as kind of…strange?‖ Sarah asked. ―What‘s strange about the Beatles? song.‖

‗Strawberry Fields‘ is a great

Sarah and I both groaned. Not only couldn‘t he hear the voice, but he was so out of date when it came to music. ―That‘s not what I heard,‖ I said. 10

―Well, then, what did you hear?‖ ―We heard--oh, never mind.

Just turn the radio up, please.‖

As soon as he raised the volume, the woman spoke again. ―Thank you very much. Oh, I do hate appearing on AM radios. No one has them any more, you know. They make me so, so…‖ ―Cantankerous?‖ Sarah suggested. It was her current favorite word. She always had one. ―Yes, yes, that‘s the precise word. Thank you, dear.‖ My father looked back at us as if two aliens had dropped into the car and replaced us. ―Trust us,‖ I said again. ―We‘re going to get to Merryvale. I know we are.‖ ―Not by talking to yourselves. Who‘s cantankerous?‖ The radio voice spoke again. ―Tell your father to drop three quarters out the window. That will get you to Merryvale.‖ ―What for?‖ I asked. ―Is it like a toll or an entrance fee or something?‖ ―Certainly not,‖ she answered. ―You‘re in a fog bank now, aren‘t you?‖ ―I guess.‖ ―Then you have to make a deposit. Banks always like deposits.‖ Sarah said, ―That‘s the dumbest joke I‘ve ever heard.‖ 11

―It is not,‖ the radio voice said with indignation. ―It serves a good purpose, besides getting you to Merryvale, that is. We need that kind of money.‖ ―Quarters?‖ I asked. ―What for?‖ ―Why to make quarter horses, of course,‖ the voice answered, then added, ―You two really aren‘t very bright, are you?‖ ―We‘re smart enough to know bad jokes when we hear them,‖ Sarah said. ―Really bad,‖ I chimed in. The voice humphed and ordered, ―Just make the deposit if you want to get there.‖ Then, the radio shut itself off. My Dad twisted the on-off knob. ―Doggone thing. It always quits in the middle of my favorite song.‖ ―Dad, do you have any quarters?‖ I asked. ―Yeah, I think so. There‘s usually some in the coin holder, but what do you want them for?‖ ―We need to drop three of them out the window.‖ ―What? That doesn‘t make—‖ ―Any sense. I know, Dad, but if we‘re ever going to get to Merryvale, that‘s what we need to do.‖

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He sighed. ―Okay, okay. This is all too weird already, so what can three quarters hurt? I don‘t know how we‘ll ever explain this to your mother.‖ Rummaging around in the coin holder, he found the quarters and dropped them out of the window one by one. Immediately, a sign wrote itself across the fog: BANK RIGHT AT THE LEFT FOG BANK MERCI! Sarah looked at me and said, ―That doesn‘t mean anything to me.‖ ―What doesn‘t mean anything?‖ my Dad asked. ―That sign,‖ she answered. ―What si--never mind,‖ he said. ―Just tell me what it says.‖ ―It says to bank right at the left fog bank,‖ Sarah told him. ―And it says ‗Merci‘,‖ I added. My Dad chuckled, which is always bad news. It meant another terrible joke was in the sign. ―What are you laughing about?‖ I asked him. ―The Left Bank is a place in Paris.‖ Sarah and I decided to ignore another groaner, but I couldn‘t ignore what I saw when I glanced back out the window. I poked my best friend and pointed. Her jaw dropped as far open as mine had. The fog was assembling itself into a bank. A real money-type bank. A very big bank. 13

The kind of bank you see with tall concrete columns and solemn words engraved above the massive doors, but I had no idea of how big it was until I checked the clearing fog below us. ―Eeep!‖ I squeaked and hid my eyes before I looked again. I heard Sarah gulp and ask, ―How high are we?‖ ―I don‘t know, I don‘t know!‖ I heard my Dad tap at the dashboard and complain, ―This silly speedometer. It‘s not working again.‖ I peeked over the back of the seat. What I saw opened my eyes wide. Instead of feet per hour, the speedometer read: 10,000 FEET INTERESTING, ISN‘T IT? Looking out at the bank again, I saw it had to tower 20,000 feet above us. As I stared, words – tall as giants – formed above the doors. HIGHEST RATES OF RETURN GUARANTEED ―Very funny,‖ I muttered, then I remembered the instructions and shouted, ―Bank right, Dad, bank right!‖ ―You can‘t bank a Ford Fairmont, Lorelei. You can only bank an airplane.‖ ―Well, then, please turn right!‖ As soon as he turned the steering wheel, another sign wrote itself across the clouds, saying: 14

PLEASE EXTINGUISH ALL JOKING MATERIALS AND PLACE YOURSELVES IN THE LOCKED AND UPRIGHT POSITION. ―Another dumb joke!‖ Sarah said. ―What I want to know is how we‘re going to – ooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!‖ Stones fall slower than we did. It felt like someone was pulling my stomach out my mouth. I didn‘t want to watch, but I was frozen up against the window by the force of the descent. Through the screaming rush of air outside the Ford, I could barely hear my father say, ―Now what‘s the matter with you two? What are you whimpering about? It‘s not your first schooling show. I‘d think you‘d be more excited about it than scared.‖ ―Can‘t he see anything?‖ Sarah asked in a low voice. ―No,‖ I answered. ―You‘re my best friend, Sarah. If I‘m going to be killed with anyone, I‘m glad it‘s you.‖ ―Me too!‖ The wind rose to a maddening shriek as the Fairmont dove toward the earth. ―Darned car is really acting up today,‖ I heard my Dad say. ―Now the oil light is on.‖ ―I don‘t think it makes much difference,‖ I said. ―We won‘t be much more than spots on the ground, anyway.‖ Dad checked us over his shoulder. ―The car is not the only thing acting up today. You two are just flat out strange today.‖

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―‗Flat‘ is not a good word to use right now,‖ Sarah said. ―See what I mean?‖ my Dad said, turning back to study the instruments. ―Maybe I‘d better pull over before the engine overheats.‖ ―I wouldn‘t do that if I were you,‖ I warned. Sarah had closed her eyes, and I wanted to do the same but was too paralyzed with fear to even move my eyelids. ―Why not?‖ he asked. ―The fog‘s clearing, and I can see quite a ways now. You know, I didn‘t realize it was so pretty up here. They sure had an early snow.‖ He paused more a minute, then added, ―It must have been a sudden storm. All the trees have their leaves.‖ ―We‘re about to die, and he‘s talking about leaves?‖ Sarah whispered to me. ―Can‘t you do something?‖ ―I can be sick.‖ ―Don‘t you dare, Lorelei!‖ What could I do? Nothing, but caution my Dad about opening the door and stepping out into thin air. I opened my eyes, prepared to shout a warning, then— ―Sarah!‖ I shouted. ―Goodbye, Lorelei, I hope they have horses on the…other side.‖ ―Open your eyes,‖ I ordered. ―I don‘t want to!‖

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―Open them or you‘ll miss it all.‖ ―But I want to miss it all!‖ I jabbed my elbow into her side. ―Ow!‖ she cried and whacked me in the shoulder. ―Just look, will you?‖ I insisted. She turned to the window, then said, ―Oh, my!‖ We bumped gently onto a country road lined with several feet of sparkling white snow. My Dad was right. The trees had all their leaves. The oaks were golden, the birches bright yellow, and the maples a flaming red. Really flaming. The leaves burned, but there was no smoke, and the flames seemed never to end, giving off a cheery, flickering heat. These maples seemed to be the perfect kind of winter tree, the kind that would keep you warm on a cold day. Sarah gasped and pointed. ―Oh, look, look at that one!‖ Back from the road, in a clearing all by itself, stood a weeping willow. On one side of the tree, the tiny leaves glittered in the sunlight and wept with a faint sobbing, but on the other side, icy leaves chimed merrily in the breeze, sounding like happy children at play. Sarah and I both burst into tears and laughed at the same time as we swept past the willow and a sign planted in front of it that read, The Merryvale of Tears. It was all very confusing.

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―What kind of place is this?‖ my Dad asked. ―Where did all this snow come from?‖ From the tone of his voice, I could tell he was finally starting to see the same things we were seeing. Maybe it just took longer for adults. ―I didn‘t hear anything about it on the weather,‖ he went on fretfully. ―The Bomb is a terrible snow car. I don‘t know about you girls, but I don‘t want to get stuck out here. We‘re not dressed for the cold.‖ Sarah brought up the really important part of the situation. ―How can we have a schooling show? The snow‘s too deep.‖ ―Maybe it‘s inside,‖ I suggested. ―I hope so.‖ Sarah looked all around, then asked, ―Where‘s the sign?‖ ―What sign?‖ I asked. ―Everytime we wonder about something or have a question, a sign seems to pop up,‖ she said. ―Haven‘t you noticed?‖ ―You‘re right,‖ I said. ―Let‘s look again.‖ As soon as we did, another sign appeared by the side of the road. It read: IT‘S SNOW FARTHER THAN YOU THINK IT IS. ―The dumb joke lady is at it again, Sarah. ―Yeah, but how far do we have to go?‖ ―Well,‖ I answered, ―if it‘s snow – I mean – no farther than we think it is, then it could be anywhere we want it to be, right?‖ 18

―I suppose,‖ she said. ―Okay, then, we‘ll say it‘s over the next hill. Is that okay?‖ ―Over the next hill,‖ I confirmed. The Ford wallowed in the rutted tracks in the road, but made it to the crest. We craned forward to get a look at the ring and the stables and saw— Nothing. Nothing except a big sign in the middle of a large snowy meadow surrounded by pines. The sign said: THIS IS IT! ―This is the dumbest joke of all!‖ I cried. ―We came all this way for nothing!‖ ―And so did Karen,‖ my Dad pointed out. My first glance had missed our instructor. She stood beside her rusty old Chevy pickup and trailer, looking no happier than we did. She wore her usual green ankle-length down coat and red earmuffs over brown hair tied back into a sensible ponytail. From a distance, she looked like a Christmas tree that had suddenly come to life. Beside her, Noodels and Lady nibbled on a bale of hay. My heart sped up as I saw them. ―Something familiar at last!‖ I burst out. An irritated Karen was better than no Karen at all in a strange place like this.

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My Dad slid the Ford down to the bottom of the hill. We all got out and struggled through the snow ―What‘s going on here, Karen?‖ my Dad yelled as we came up to her. ―I don‘t know!‖ she shouted right back at him. I knew her cheeks were bright from more than the cold. Whenever we make a potentially dangerous mistake during our riding lesson, the first place her anger shows is in those cheeks. They turn red as a stop light. She tugged furiously at a loose strand of hair. ―I‘ve lived in this area for 20 years, and I‘ve never heard of Merryvale Stables. I like to visit new ranches, but to come out here…and…and…‖ She sputtered until she could get the words out. ―And find nothing!‖ ―Nothing!‖ my father echoed. ―If I ever get my hands on these people, I‘ll—‖ A sharp, familiar voice snapped through the air. ―I thought I said that no nags were to be brought!‖ We whirled around and saw a tall, thin woman striding through the deep snow as if it were no more bother than a stroll through spring grass. She was dressed in the usual rider‘s uniform – black coat, tan breeches, white stock about the throat, and long, gleaming boots. The only thing different was her riding helmet. It had a pair of goggles strapped above the bill. She didn‘t appear to be cold at all. As she came closer, I could see that the woman was anything but ordinary with eyes of warm frost and coal-black eyebrows raised above them as if she was expecting the worst of us. The nose was a model‘s nose, straight and fine, with a hint of upturn at the end of it.

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Sarah confirmed what I was thinking. ―She looks like she belongs on the cover of Cosmo,‖ she whispered. I whispered back, ―Except that fashion models don‘t have hair of that color.‖ The hair looked like molten ice. At first, I thought she‘d dyed it, but the closer I looked, the more I saw that it was real. It glittered as she moved her head and – really maddening – always retained its shape. ―How many women do you know who never have a hair out of place?‖ I said quietly to Sarah. The woman overheard me and answered, ―None, I venture to say. Simply because there is no one like me. I am one of a kind. Unique. Alone in my field.‖ She looked about, adding, ―And I was alone in this field until you showed up.‖ ―But you invited us,‖ I said. ―We got the flier.‖ ―That is true,‖ the woman said. ―But I did not invite them.‖ She pointed at Noodels and Lady. ―Nags are not allowed.‖ ―They‘re not nags!‖ Sarah and I said at the same time. ―They are so,‖ the woman insisted. ―They not only wouldn‘t finish the course, but they‘d very likely die in the effort. And,‖ she continued with a meaningful look at Sarah and me, ―it‘s very likely you would too.‖ ―Hey, wait a minute!‖ my Dad said. ―Wait a minute, whatever your name is…what is your name, anyway?‖ ―Merryvale,‖ the answer came promptly. 21

―Well, Mary, I want to—‖ ―It‘s not ‗Mary‘,‖ she interrupted. ―It‘s Merryvale, the same as the name of the stables. It‘s one word with Merry spelled with an ―e‖ as in Merry Christmas.‖ ―I don‘t care if your name is spelled with an ―e‖ or an ―a‖ or any other letter of the alphabet,‖ my Dad said. ―What I do care about is that you‘re irresponsible enough to set up a course that could result in injury or death to the riders and horses.‖ ―I am never irresponsible,‖ Merryvale answered. ―I could not have reached my lofty position by being irresponsible.‖ My Dad snorted at this idea. ―Some lofty position. There‘s no house, no stable, there‘s not even a course set up.‖ ―Of course, there‘s a course set up, you silly man.‖ ―Where is it then?‖ ―You simply have to look in the right direction,‖ Merryvale said and poked a finger upward. ―Oh, my God!‖ my Dad said. Something was jumping from cloud to cloud. A horse. A horse with wings. ―They must be 500 feet in the air!‖

22

―You have a very good eye for distances, Lorelei‘s Dad,‖ Merryvale said. ―That‘s precisely the height, a very good schooling height.‖ My Dad blinked at the flying horse, then blinked at Merryvale. Very quickly, his face got even redder than it had been before. ―I suppose you‘re going to tell me that it‘s perfectly safe to be riding around up there.‖ ―Of course not,‖ she answered. ―If it were perfectly safe, then there wouldn‘t be much point in doing it, would there? There wouldn‘t be much point in doing anything.‖ ―But if they fall!‖ Karen said. ―It‘s a long way down,‖ Merryvale said. ―At higher altitudes, we sometimes use parachutes, but there‘s not much need for them at lower heights.‖ Karen regarded her with astonishment and repeated, ―But if they fall—‖ ―Then they fall,‖ came the answer. ―What do you think all this snow is for?‖ Merryvale reached down and grabbed a handful of the white stuff. ―There‘s an average of ten feet of it, thirty feet for the schooling students. There‘s nothing like a good fall on an autumn day.‖ I blurted out, ―You‘re the one!‖ ―I‘m the one what, young lady?‖ ―The one with the bad jokes.‖

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―I beg your pardon?‖ she said. ―When I make a joke, it‘s very, very good. Either that, or it‘s exquisitely bad, which amounts to the same thing.‖ ―I thought they were pretty ba–,‖ Sarah tried to say. ―Enough,‖ Merryvale interrupted. ―Are we ready?‖ I looked into the sky and asked, ―How are we going to get up there?‖ ―Well, Lorelei,‖ the strange woman asked, ―how do you think we‘re going to get up there?‖ ―Fly?‖ ―Precisely. I repeat, are we ready?‖ I leaned over and whispered into Sarah‘s ear. She whispered back and our decision was made. ―No,‖ I said. ―What do you mean, no?‖ a startled Merryvale asked. ―Your winged horse is the loveliest thing we‘ve ever seen,‖ Sarah said, ―but—‖ ―We ride Lady and Noodels!‖ I continued. ―They‘re our ponies. How can we not ride them? It wouldn‘t be fair.‖ Merryvale frowned at us and then at the ponies. ―Oh, horse manure!‖ she said with irritation. ―Hoof pick and curry comb! Counter canter and flying change!‖ She continued her version of swearing while walking over to our mounts and examining them closely. Turning away from Noodels, she said, ―Someone forgot to put legs on this pony. Where are they?‖ 24

A deep, weary bass voice came from Noodels‘ mouth. ―Very funny. As if I haven‘t heard that joke before.‖ Sarah and I looked at each other, then back at Noodels. ―I didn‘t know you could talk,‖ I said. ―Although I am a pony, I‘m not much of one for small talk,‖ he answered. ―Geldings don‘t have much to talk about, anyway.‖ Tossing his head toward Lady, he said, ―She‘s the talker.‖ ―Indeed I am,‖ she agreed. ―And I have to be. He just stands there all day like the big lump of clay he is and says nothing. It‘s more fun to talk to a human. Speaking of which, have you noticed how Karen has been ignoring us lately for those flashier saddlebreds? Why it‘s positively….‖ Sarah whispered in my ear, ―She veers off the subject just like she veers off a jump.‖ ―Oh, please!‖ Merryvale shouted. ―Lady, cut the chatter. You don‘t need wings to fly. You put out enough hot air to float yourself into the air.‖ Lady shook her mane, offended. ―But,‖ Merryvale continued, ―I suppose I‘ll have to give you wings, anyway, although it‘ll be a little like giving flight to pigs.‖ Noodels stretched his head out and nipped her in the behind. ―Ouch!‖ she yelled. ―Oh, all right. If these two girls love you so much they‘re willing to forgo a ride on a real horse, then I‘ll do my best to accommodate them.‖ 25

―But,‖ she added ominously, ―I won‘t be held responsible for what happens. It‘s up to you girls to ride safely. Now saddle up.‖ We had the saddles on, girths tightened, and stirrups adjusted in a flash, then stood waiting for Merryvale as my Dad and Karen argued about us riding in this very strange place. ―Do you think they‘ll let us do it?‖ I asked Sarah. ―I‘ll just die if they don‘t.‖ She pointed out, ―We may die if they do. I‘m just glad my Mom and Dad aren‘t here. There wouldn‘t be a chance of going, then.‖ Merryvale‘s voice rose above the others, drawing our attention. ―I appreciate your concern, but don‘t you see what you‘re doing with your continual doubts?‖ ―No, I don‘t,‖ my father said. ―What are you talking about?‖ ―Just look about your feet.‖ We all looked down. The snow was beginning to melt, grass poking up through the puddles. Merryvale said, ―Snow is much softer than grass I think you‘ll agree, so I think we should get started before your doubts eliminate our safety cushion.‖ My Dad started to say something, then looked at me and said, ―Lorelei, I know that fall last time scared you. It would scare anybody. I know that they say if you fall off a horse, you should always get back on. But several hundred feet in the air? What do you think about that? Do you want to do it?‖

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I nodded. ―Sarah, what about you?‖ he asked. She nodded too. My Dad thought for a long moment, then said, ―Okay, you can go even though your parents are going to skin me alive when they find out about this.‖ ―Who‘d ever believe us?‖ Sarah pointed out. ―They‘ll believe broken bones,‖ Dad responded glumly. ―Okay!‖ Merryvale said, then clapped her hands together. Somehow, a riding crop appeared in one hand. She studied it intently as we mounted. ―Is this the right one?‖ she asked herself, then answered her own question. ―Oh, yes, my, yes, this is the best one to use. Many winners with this one. Many records.‖ ―Why is that?‖ I asked. ―Because it‘s a record crop, that‘s why,‖ she answered. Sarah and I groaned. I couldn‘t help myself and blurted out my opinion of her jokes. ―Puns are the lowest form of humor.‖ ―Wrong, wrong, wrong!‖ the strange woman responded. ―The lowest form of humor is none at all. Puns are at least two notches above that. Although I always prefer more than two notches -- with cheese, please.‖ This time, Noodels and Lady groaned.

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―Oh, all right,‖ Merryvale said. ―I am a prophet without honor in my own land. I shall proceed in spite of a distinct lack of appreciation.‖ ―We would appreciate your getting on with it,‖ my Dad said. Merryvale raised the riding crop and tapped Lady on the nose as if she were the fairy godmother turning Cinderella into the belle of the ball. Only, instead of a gown, wings suddenly sprouted from the pony‘s flanks, wings of filigreed silver feathers that floated gently up and down as if they had a life of their own. Sarah sucked in her breath as she looked down on the wings and said, ―Oh, I never dreamed of anything like this. I never--‖ ―Oh, collected and extended walk and trot, of course, you have!‖ Merryvale said. ―Young girls have dreams so powerful they cause perturbation of planetary orbits. That‘s why your parents think worlds of you.‖ ―Huh?‖ Sarah said, then asked me, ―Do you know what she‘s talking about?‖ ―No, I don‘t, but I know I want Noodels to have wings too.‖ Merryvale walked over to my pony and stared at him critically before saying, ―And he shall have them too.‖ She rapped him lightly with the crop. Nothing happened. She hit him again, this time harder. Nothing happened. Merryvale frowned and asked in a severe tone, ―Are you resisting me?‖ 28

―No,‖ Noodels answered. ―I think you‘re just being as stubborn as your Shetland half,‖ she said, not convinced. ―Do you know what I do with stubborn ponies?‖ When Noodels didn‘t answer, she continued, ―I give them wings just large enough to get them 500 feet off the ground, but not big enough to keep them up there. How does that idea strike you?‖ ―It doesn‘t strike me at all,‖ the pony answered. ―All right, then,‖ Merryvale said, then raised the crop again and whacked Noodels as hard she could. ―Owww!‖ the pony yelled, rearing on his hind legs and nearly throwing me. ―You didn‘t have to hit me that hard!‖ ―Oh, yes, I did,‖ she responded. ―You‘re only one step removed from a mule in your stubbornness. The official rule is that you get a mule‘s attention by knocking him between the eyes with a two-by-four. So, be glad I just used my crop.‖ She eyed Noodels critically, then commented, ―You‘re the only pony I‘ve ever seen with a hogshead instead of a barrel. I know you steal corn from that old railroad car on Karen‘s ranch. You eat too much of it, and I‘ve never had time for corn ponies.‖ ―Can we just get on with this?‖ Noodels said. Merryvale replied, ―Try out your wings first. Fat little ponies need more lift so it always good to run a test first.‖

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I‘d been so busy listening to them talk that I hadn‘t noticed the wings. They were the same as Lady‘s, feathers filigreed with silver and transparent as glass. Noodels flapped them one at a time until he was satisfied, then turned his head back to me and asked, ―Are you ready to do this, Lorelei?‖ ―Yes,‖ I said, somewhat reluctantly. I‘d wanted to jump higher than I‘d ever jumped before but this wasn‘t quite what I had in mind. We rose gently, then bumped back on the ground. Noodels beat the wings harder, and we climbed higher this time, rising above the pine trees surrounding the clearing. Sarah and Lady rose with us. ―Let go of your saddle!‖ Merryvale shouted from below. Karen teach you anything?‖

―Didn‘t

I hadn‘t even been aware that I was holding on – and holding my breath as well. I looked over and saw Sarah doing the same thing. I exhaled and let go of the saddle to hold the reins properly. ―That‘s better,‖ Merryvale said, standing between me and Sarah. Standing? I asked myself. She can’t be standing 500 feet in the air! But she was. Without a horse beneath her. Without anything beneath her. ―You‘re--!‖ I began to say.

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―I know, I know,‖ she said, dismissing my efforts to speak. ―But, anything‘s better than standing on shaky ground. This is a seismically active area, so it‘s much safer up here. That‘s why I fly.‖ ―But then what about my Dad and Karen?‖ I asked. ―They can‘t fly, and I don‘t want them hurt.‖ Merryvale peered down, pondered my question for a moment, then said, ―I suppose you‘re right. But there is a way to keep them safe. What that Ford needs is a couple more horsepower to get it off the ground.‖ ―Cars don‘t—‖ Sarah began, then shut up. I knew what she was thinking. Cars don‘t fly, except in this strange land. Merryvale swooped down, yelling at my Dad and Karen, ―Get in the Fairmont!‖ When they were inside, she hovered over the Ford, studied the car briefly, then said very distinctly, ―What a nag! Everybody brings nags!‖ Then, somehow, she produced a sledgehammer and slammed it down hard on the hood. The ―Crummp!‖ of metal against metal echoed across the clearing, shaking snow from the pine branches. A faint rumbling started, growing in intensity as if giant feet were marching toward us. Merryvale lowered the sledgehammer and cocked her head toward the car. ―Oh dear,‖ she said. ―I can never remember if it‘s one lump or two.‖ Then she hit the hood again. ―Try it now, Lorelei‘s Dad. We haven‘t got much time.‖ My father started to say something, but shut his mouth and turned on the ignition. The engine purred into life instead of going through its

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usual clatter. Suddenly, the hood popped open, and two winged horses, black as oil and in traces, burst skyward. ―Whhhhhhoooooooooooooaaa!‖ my Dad shouted as the team pulled the Fairmont off the ground. I could see Karen hanging onto the window, her knuckles white as the snow on the ground. Merryvale rose and smiled with satisfaction as she watched them soar to a level above the trees and begin a circling motion. ―That‘s the first time I‘ve made a pig fly,‖ she said. Turning back to Sarah and me, she said, ―Now back to the business at hand.‖ The rumbling beneath us grew louder. ―What is that?‖ I asked. ―That noise?‖ ―Oh, crumbcakes and Hostless Stinkies, it‘s just a re-arrangement of the face of Mother Earth. She likes a makeover now and then as much as the next woman. New patterns are pleasing things. Watch what happens, and then we‘ll get going.‖ ―Watch where?‖ Sarah asked. With an airy wave of her hand, Merryvale answered, ―Oh, any direction will do. These things tend to happen on a grand scale.‖ She was right. The rumbling grew into a roar. Beneath us, the earth changed. Like a throw rug being straightened out, the hills flattened themselves into a plain, and the pines seemed suddenly to grew legs and stride out purposefully in various directions as if they were a marching band. The only thing that didn‘t change was the snow. There was still a thick blanket of it across the land, and I was very, very grateful for that. 32

The pines continued re-arranging themselves until a word formed. They‘d known what they were doing all along--almost. They‘d spelled: MERRYWHALE

Sarah and I giggled. ―Oh, withers!‖ Merryvale said, tapping her boot with her crop. ―Pines never get anything right. It‘s those needles, you know. It makes them uncomfortable, and they can‘t concentrate for very long. They‘re nothing more than vertical pin cushions.‖ She turned to us and said, ―Speaking of concentration, that‘s what you four will need. Lots of it. Come with me and I‘ll show you why.‖ We turned our horses, ready to follow, but Merryvale stopped suddenly and complained, ―Wait a minute, I forgot my horse. Ground lines and placing poles! I am becoming forgetful.‖ Putting her fingers to her mouth, she whistled sharply. For a moment, nothing happened, then a distant whinnying sounded, and a shape fell from the clouds toward us with the speed of a rocket on re-entry. I didn‘t think it was going to stop and thought for a moment about jumping off and taking my chances with the snow. Then enormous wings spread, and the horse swooped to a stop beside Merryvale. It was a stallion. Breathing fire out of its flaring nostrils. Real fire, shining redly against the black of the horse‘s skin. I‘d only seen that kind of black once before --in a cave when someone had put 33

the light out to scare us. It was a black that admits no light and, therefore, creates a light of its own. The dark color of this horse hummed at me and hurt my eyes. Just as amazing was the size of the stallion. He stood at least 20 hands high. His head was beautifully shaped with large red eyes and ears that pricked with interest at every sound above a long and muscular neck that flowed down into the massive chest that powered the black and delicately strong wings. When I looked at the hindquarters, I could see the animal was capable of jumping anything it put its mind to. ―Is it a thoroughbred?‖ Sarah asked in wonder. ―Oh, please!‖ Merryvale said, pulling a red pepper from her blouse and feeding it to the stallion who ate it and promptly belched flame. ―He‘s much better than a thoroughbred. I do things right, you know. He‘s a Morethanthoroughlybred, aren‘t you, Godolphin? ―Breeding tells,‖ the stallion agreed in an arrogant bass voice. He sounded like an English aristocrat. ―I am quite simply the best that ever was and ever shall be.‖ Noodels snorted at this and said, ―Talk is cheap.‖ Godolphin regarded my pony with a disdainful red eye. ―Where is the rest of you? Something has been forgotten, has it not?‖ ―Somebody needs manners!‖ I blurted out. The Morethanthoroughlybred was the most magnificent horse I‘d ever seen, but I saw no reason for him to insult Noodels.

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The red eye shifted to me, then to Sarah. ―Surely, Merryvale, you‘re not serious about letting these two jump the course?‖ ―It is a schooling show,‖ she reminded him. ―Yes, but with these two, school already appears to be out.‖ She patted his side fondly and admonished, ―Looks are not always what they seem. You should remember that, Godolphin. It‘s certainly true that there are none at your lofty height, but, remember, you have farther to fall if you make a mistake.‖ Godolphin sniffed, causing flame to sputter in his nostrils. ―I never make mistakes, and, as I‘m a winged horse, I can‘t fall.‖ Merryvale whispered an aside to us, ―He has such an ego. Have you ever met a horse so full of himself?‖ Then, she said in a normal voice to the stallion, ―I‘m sure these children will try their level best, and that‘s all that really counts.‖ Godolphin made a sniffing sound, but said nothing while Merryvale floated up onto his back. She looked down at us and asked, ―Did I tell you girls that I invented flying because it was so much bother to mount and dismount? And it does make an emergency dismount so much easier – no ground to bother with.‖ I only half-heard what she was saying because my head was spinning. Flaming maples, fiery winged horses, marching pines that couldn‘t spell, and flying Fords – it was all too much. As Godolphin spread his wings and launched upward, there was nothing for Sarah and me to do but to urge our horses to follow. 35

Eagerly, Noodels broke into a canter, then a gallop. He never could stand being behind other horses. But, this time, it was like trying to catch a comet. The stallion pulled away so fast, the turbulence of his wake nearly blasted me out of the saddle. I heard screaming to match mine own and looked over at Lady. Sarah wasn‘t in the saddle. She was holding on to the end of Lady‘s tail. Suddenly, Merryvale and Godolphin were back. ―No trick riding,‖ she shouted at Sarah. ―Tricks are for those who like to do things the easy way. We do things right here. Now, come along.‖ Sarah pulled herself hand over hand back onto Lady and into the saddle. She didn‘t look very good; her face was nearly as gray as Lady‘s, but her color returned as we headed upward. Our ponies‘ wings beat several times to one of Godolphin‘s single, powerful strokes. Lady and Noodels sensed our growing comfort and gained speed and altitude with greater ease. Then, a white mare flashed out of nowhere, nearly shattering our confidence by diving between us, then back up to hover in front of our mounts. The horse had blue eyes with a wicked gleam in them. She winked, swept upward, then dived down at Godolphin‘s head. As she swept by, she nipped one of his ears. ―Owwww!‖ he yelled and tried to lunge forward in chase, but Merryvale held him back, then rubbed his injured ear and steadied the stallion. 36

―Who was that?‖ I yelled. Merryvale turned in her saddle to shout back, ―Oh, never mind her. That was Temperament Patty. She‘s one of our Badlybreds. No manners, whatsoever, I‘m afraid.‖ ―But if she‘s bred badly, why do you bother with that breed at all?‖ Sarah asked, voicing my thoughts. ―I have no prejudices,‖ Merryvale answered. ―Life without complications is not worth living.‖ In a severe tone, she added, ―Besides, if I didn‘t like complications, you two wouldn‘t be here, would you?‖ Sarah and I glanced at each other and decided it was time to keep quiet. Talking with Merryvale was like getting a new problem – nothing made sense at first. You just had to wait and think about it for a while. Then, it probably made less sense. We kept our silence as we rose faster and faster. Noodels had a youthful light in his eye as if all his past strength and speed had returned. ―How do you feel?‖ I asked him. ―I‘m young again, Lorelei! Like a colt! I‘m ready for anything!‖ Lady shouted over at us, ―I feel the same way!‖ Her mane flew in the wind, and Sarah‘s long hair did the same. My best friend had a grin so big it threatened to march right off her face. I laughed and waved. As we soared upward, rumbling started again. I looked downward expecting to see the pines marching around again, but nothing had

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changed on the ground. I heard the sound grow louder. Looking to the west, I saw its source. A herd of heavy work horses galloped around the base of a thunderhead, their huge wings and hooves working hard to maintain altitude. Riders on winged Mustangs kept them tightly bunched. Faint yips, whistles and yells sounded above the thunder, urging the herd to move faster. Thunder erupted from the dark cloud. Merryvale saw the curiosity on our faces and informed us, ―Those are my Cloudsdales. Part of my Thundering Herd. Good, patient workers, but a little slow. The Cloudboys and Girls have to keep after them.‖ ―They make the thunder?‖ I asked. ―The lightning too when we make them bolt,‖ she confirmed. ―But enough of this nonsense. You two are very good at avoiding what needs to be done. We need to get on to the course so you can see what you‘re up against.‖ Sarah said, ―May I ask one more question, please?‖ ―Oh, all right, but only one.‖ ―What breed of horses are those?‖ She pointed at horses rising up and down outside the thunderhead as if they were riding an invisible elevator. ―Them?‖ Merryvale said. ―They‘re draft horses. I have three of the four kinds -- Updrafts, Downdrafts, and Backdrafts. No Sidedrafts, however. They‘re impossible to manage, even for me. That‘s why I never take Sides with anybody. Especially on trail rides. They always insist on going down Side trails, slowing everything down, and that makes the other horses mad.‖ 38

While she‘d been describing the breed, a thought that had been nagging at me finally popped out of my mouth. ―Merryvale, I don‘t understand. Up here, it doesn‘t make much sense to run a course with obstacles to jump over. I mean, all the horses can fly. Jumping wouldn‘t be any challenge at all.‖ ―Well, it all depends on the size of the jump, now, doesn‘t it?‖ she replied. ―Even winged horses have their limits. So, I design the course to test the rider‘s skill and the horse‘s limits just as I would on the ground.‖ ―Uhh, just how big are those limits?‖ I asked. ―Why don‘t I just describe the course for you two? That‘s probably the easiest way.‖ Merryvale snapped her fingers, and a map of the course wrote itself on the air. It was a big course. Very big. Because it was a map of the world! If I thought I was nervous before, I was really nervous now. I tried hard to pay attention as she pointed her crop at the map. ―It‘s a simple figure-eight course, and today we shall begin where we are which is always a good place to begin, otherwise nothing ever gets done,‖ she said. ―We‘ll head southwest at an altitude feet of 500 feet. That will give you girls time to get used to riding up here. You can go lower than that altitude, but now higher until you see the green Cleared

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for Takeoff signs. If you go above, there‘s one penalty point for each meter above the prescribed course altitude -- is that understood?‖ When we nodded our agreement, she continued, ―Your first obstacle is the Black hills – a good easy jump, around 7,500 feet or so at the highest point. Then, on to the Rockies, and over Pike‘s Peak which is somewhat above 13,000 feet.‖ Her crop then pointed southward on the map. ―Here‘s your first ditch – the Grand Canyon. That‘s followed by your first big water obstacle – the Pacific Ocean.‖ Looking meaningfully at us, she warned, ―It pays to get this jump right because Australia is several thousand miles away, and you don‘t want to get wet. Sharks might think you‘re a very big flying fish.‖ Sharks? I swallowed hard at the thought. ―But once you‘re Down Under, it‘s pretty flat, and that will give you a chance to catch your breath so you can ready for your next water jump – the Indian Ocean.‖ She continued, ―Next you‘ll land on the big island of Madagascar. The tricky part is to launch into the air immediately to get over the Mozambique Channel and on to the African continent.‖ Pointing at the Kalahari Desert, she said, ―You turn north at this point. ―We‘ll save South America for another time. You‘ll jump over Lake Tanganyika and Lake Victoria, then over the Ethiopian Plateau and into the Middle East once you‘re past the Red Sea.‖ A stern expression appeared on Merryvale‘s face, and she said, ―Then, you‘ll swing northeast over the Hindu Kush and then southeast over the Himalayas. This will be your toughest test because it‘s Mount Everest, the tallest mountain in the world. It‘s nearly five miles high.‖ 40

The stern face turned bright. ―But once you‘ve done that, it‘s all downhill from there – or down continent to be more precise. After crossing the South China Sea, you‘ll land on Borneo, then across the Indian Ocean and back to Australia. Then you‘ll jump the Pacific to Hawaii, then on to Los Angeles, the Southern Rockies and back here. Now, are there any questions?‖ ―Just one,‖ I said. ―Are you out of your mind?‖ ―Not lately,‖ Merryvale said, an answer that was not at all satisfying. ―You two did agree that you were going to jump higher than you‘d ever jumped before – that is correct, isn‘t it?‖ ―How did you know that?‖ Sarah asked. ―We never told you.‖ ―Young girls‘ minds are like glass. You can read right through them,‖ Merryvale answered. ―That is, if the glass isn‘t cracked.‖ That remark got Sarah‘s dander up. ―Are you saying we‘re cracked?‖ ―You‘re here, aren‘t you?‖ Well, there wasn‘t really any answer to that remark. ―Remember, girls, this is only a schooling show. It‘s not really that difficult. And, once you‘re beyond this stage, why the possibilities are endless. There‘s suborbital jumping which is always a thrill -provided you have the right horse. Then there‘s the interplanetary course. It can be tedious because of the distances involved, but is quite an accomplishment, nevertheless. Beyond that, there‘s the level I‘m on, but no one ever reaches it which is quite a bother for competition.‖

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Merryvale sighed and looked down at her boots. Tears formed in those eyes of warm ice. ―No one ever told me that the main result of greatness is loneliness.‖ ―I‘m sorry,‖ both Sarah and I said. ―Thank you, thank you,‖ Merryvale said, wiping the tears away. ―But you‘re here now, aren‘t you? I have no time to be lonely. I only have time to send you off. The course begins right here.‖ The riding crop drew a bright red line through the air. ―You can both go at the same time. There‘s plenty of room. Simply wait for the first peal of thunder, but first let me call the other riders.‖ We brought our ponies up to the line. I was scared and willing to try all at the same time, and Noodels‘ muttering wasn‘t helping my nerves any. I leaned over and asked him what he was saying. ―I said I hope we‘re up to this,‖ he answered. ―Don‘t worry,‖ I reassured him and patted his neck. ―We‘ll do great.‖ I didn‘t want to transmit my fear to him. I‘d never jumped oceans and continents before. In fact, I was seriously thinking of withdrawing when the two oil-black horses pulled the Ford close to the line. My Dad leaned out and shouted, ―You can do it, Lorelei. You know how. Just like always!‖ I laughed and shouted back our secret answer, ―With considerable style and grace!‖ That‘s what my Dad always said – he didn‘t care whether I finished first or fiftieth as long as I did everything with considerable style and grace. 42

From the other side of the Fairmont, Karen added her advice. ―Lorelei, keep that right leg in. Sarah, tell Lady no veering off course today!‖ All of a sudden, it was like a regular schooling show, and I was ready to go, impatiently waiting as the other riders lined up with us. They were as strange as Merryvale. One woman was very cold-looking. She had frost on her nose, and the horse she sat was nearly as large as one of the Cloudsdales. ―An icy Freezin‘,‖ Merryvale explained without my asking her. ―A rare breed, indeed.‖ Next to the Freezin was another huge horse with its rider hanging tightly onto the mane. ―That‘s no way to ride,‖ I told Sarah. Then the horse gave a huge belch and shot twenty feet back from the starting line. ―Don‘t tell me,‖ I said to Merryvale. ―A Belchin.‖ ―Very good,‖ she replied. ―You‘re getting the hang of my land, aren‘t you? Try another one. What breed is that? It didn‘t cost the rider very much.‖ She pointed at an Hispanic man in the saddle of a lovely, fine-boned, high-stepping horse. ―A Peso Fino?‖ I guessed. ―Right again.‖

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On the opposite side of the Peso Fino sat a woman wearing a bathing suit. She sweated heavily atop a muscular stallion. ―A Dutch warmblood?‖ I suggested. ―Wonderful!‖ Merryvale said. Just then, an irritated man flew up next to her and said, ―Merryvale, don‘t give me any of your Lippizaners. I like company on these longer events. Give me a Tennessee Talking Horse.‖ ―Suit yourself,‖ she said. ―But hurry up. We‘re about to start.‖ Before I knew it, thunder boomed through the air, and we were all on our way. The Black Hills were no problem. The Grand Canyon, the Pacific Ocean, and Australia – no problem. In fact, none of the course was a problem. Until we came to Mount Everest. Noodels and Lady had been magnificent all through the course, but as we rose toward the peak of Everest, I heard my pony‘s breathing start to labor. ―What‘s wrong?‖ I shouted at him. ―Ti-tired,‖ he gasped. ―Wings icing up.‖ I checked and saw that he was right. Ice crusted the delicate feathers, matting them together and making them heavy to lift.

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―Sarah!‖ I yelled. ―Is Lady having trouble with icing too?‖ Pushing hair out of her face, she answered, ―Yes. What shall we do? Turn back?‖ ―We can‘t give up now,‖ I said. ―What would Merryvale say?‖ ―Or your Dad or Karen?‖ she added. I thought for moment, then came up with a solution I wasn‘t sure I liked at all. ―How about we do what Merryvale does?‖ I said. ―What are you talking about?‖ Sarah asked. ―Remember, she invented flying because it was so much bother to mount or dismount?‖ ―Yeah, but we‘re not Merryvale,‖ my friend reminded me. ―That‘s not the point, Sarah. Having confidence, that‘s the point.‖ Sarah stared wide-eyed down at the jagged, snow-covered peaks. ―Confidence never had to fly over Mount Everest on two brave, but old ponies.‖ I listened closely to Noodels‘ breathing again. The courageous animal was beginning to falter. We were barely rising, and if I didn‘t do something soon, we‘d be headed straight down. ―We haven‘t got any choice, Sarah! We‘ll do it together.‖ ―On the count of three,‖ she said. I nodded and counted, ―One…two…three!‖

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We both dismounted. Confidence didn‘t keep my eyes open, but it kept me up in the air. When I opened them, we were flying! We laughed at each other in relief, then took our ponies‘ reins and flew ahead to pull them upward. Relieved of our weight, they flew more easily, but it was still close – close enough for me to scoop a handful of snow and feed it to Noodels – the only pony ever watered on the highest mountain in the world. We swooped down the other side, and the rest of the course was an easy blur. Before we knew it, we were back at the finish line. Everyone burst into applause as we came to a halt, even Merryvale. My Dad and Karen cheered from the Ford. ―Well done!‖ Merryvale said. ―Which is much better than medium rare when it comes to a school show. What did you learn from your ride?‖ ―To have confidence,‖ I said. ―In what?‖ ―In ourselves,‖ Sarah answered. Merryvale smiled. ―Very good. Confidence is the same as faith. Have faith in yourselves. I do. In fact, I have absolute faith in myself, but few people are that perfect. As a matter of fact, I‘m the only one I know.‖ She continued, ― They say that faith can move mountains, but why move the mountain when you can soar over it? The view is so much better that way.‖

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Slapping her boot with the riding crop, she said, ―But I‘m rambling when there are more important things t do. We do have another event this afternoon. You remember I mentioned interplanetary jumping? First, there‘s the Moon, then Mars – but I‘m getting ahead of myself. Would you two like to enter?‖ ―Would we?‖ I said excitedly. ―Yesss!‖ Sarah said, but then a thought sobered her joy. ―But we have math homework to do.‖ ―Lots of it,‖ I added gloomily. Merryvale waved off our disappointment. ―Bring it along, You‘ll have plenty of time between worlds, especially for math – orbital calculations always come in handy. Besides, time does as I bid here. That means there‘s time for everything.‖ ―Homework on horseback?‖ I said, trying to get my mind around this outstanding concept. ―It‘s great,‖ Sarah said, ―but what about our ponies. They‘re tired out.‖ ―Yeah,‖ I agreed. ―I doubt they could even do the first course again.‖ ―Well, you have to ride new mounts, don‘t you?‖ Merryvale said. ―Good horsewomen can ride any horse. Are you willing to try?‖ ―Yes!‖ we said. Merryvale thought for a minute, then said, ―Okay, then. I‘ve got just the horses for you. Sarah, you know how to handle a pony that veers off course, so I‘ll give you Temperament Patty because you‘ll know how to handle her persnickety ways. Lorelei, I‘ve noticed that you can

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be a bit serious at times, so I‘ll give you Godolphin because he‘s always serious – and somewhat stuffy, I must admit.‖ ―Hey!‖ I said. ―I‘m not stuffy.‖ Sarah giggled at me. ―I may be too serious sometimes, but I‘m definitely not stuffy,‖ I insisted. Merryvale ignored what I was saying. ―More important, the stallion is absolutely reliable. He‘s never lost a rider. Besides, he‘s more fun than he looks. You can roast hot dogs with that fire in his nose. I‘ll make sure they‘re packed in your lunches. Now, is there anything I‘ve forgotten?‖ I couldn‘t think of anything. Neither could Sarah. ―Good!‖ Merryvale said. ―Find your mounts. We have a short launch window, so we need to get started. We floated up into the saddles. Godolphin snorted in a sneering sort of way as I didn‘t belong on his back. I patted his neck, anyway. I expected big things out of him. And, suddenly I knew that I expected big things out of myself. It was a wonderful thought, but I didn‘t have time to think about it. The starting thunder rumbled again, and Sarah and I left the world behind us. With considerable style and grace, I might add.

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