Phantom Horse (10 page)

As she walked slowly toward her bus stop at the shopping center near the stable, Carole thought about Mrs. Reg’s story. Was she implying that Carole’s fears were all in her
mind? If so, maybe it was just as well that Carole hadn’t had a chance to tell her friends or her father about the dreams. There was nothing they could do if the problem was all in her head. By the time she reached the bus stop and collapsed on the bench to wait, she had decided that the best thing to do was to ignore the nightmares and hope they went away.

S
TEVIE
SIGHED
IRRITABLY
and fiddled with her fork. She was sitting at the Marstens’ dinner table, wearing her best corduroy pants and a soft blue silk shirt she’d borrowed from her mother. The horseshoe pendant Phil had given her at Christmas was around her neck. The food was wonderful, and Phil’s aunt and uncle were friendly and charming. But so far the dinner was not going the way Stevie had hoped. All anyone could talk about was Phil’s bar mitzvah. And nobody, least of all Phil himself, had shown the slightest interest in hearing about Stevie’s detective work. Every time she tried to bring up the missing yarmulke, somebody changed the subject back to Saturday’s event.

At the moment Phil’s uncle Paul, a large, jolly man with curly black hair, was telling a funny story about his own bar mitzvah. It had something to do with a snowstorm and an escaped cow, but Stevie wasn’t really listening.

“… and the first thing I mentioned in my
Dvar Torah
speech was the cow,” Uncle Paul finished with a broad smile.

Stevie smiled weakly as all the Marstens roared with laughter. She had no idea what a
Dvar Torah
speech was, and at this point she didn’t really care. Phil’s ten-year-old sister, Rachel, poked Stevie in the ribs. “That sounds like something that would happen to you!” She turned to her aunt and uncle. “Stevie’s always getting into all kinds of trouble,” she announced. “And usually she ends up getting all her friends in trouble, too, including Phil.”

“That’s not true,” Phil protested, with a grin that gave him away. “Stevie never finds trouble. It finds her!”

Aunt Karen smiled at Stevie, then turned to her nephew. “Well, you’d better watch out that she doesn’t drag you into
too
much trouble from now on,” she said teasingly. “After your bar mitzvah you can be held accountable, you know.”

Phil laughed, then turned to Stevie to explain. “That’s part of what a bar mitzvah is,” he said. “Once you’re a full member of your community, you’re responsible for your actions.”

Phil’s mother nodded. “That’s right. It’s Jewish law. If a child does something wrong, large or small, the parents are responsible. But once that child becomes an adult”—she paused to smile at her son—“then that person is responsible for himself.”

“Or herself,” Rachel piped up, and Mrs. Marsten nodded.

“Uh-oh,” Stevie said. “You’d better not tell my parents about that. Otherwise, the next thing I know, I’ll be having a bar mitzvah of my own!”

Everyone laughed. Then Phil’s older sister, Barbara, spoke up. “Actually, for girls the ceremony is called a bat mitzvah,” she told Stevie. “It’s a newer tradition than the bar mitzvah—it’s been around for less than a hundred years. But I’m glad we have it now.” She smiled at her family. “My bat mitzvah was one of the best days of my life. I really never expected it to be so special, but it was. I’d never paid much attention to being Jewish before. But once I had to sit down and really think about it, I realized how important it is to feel like a member of a community. I hope Phil’s experience is as wonderful as mine.”

Stevie raised an eyebrow in amazement, wondering if there was something wrong with her hearing. Usually Phil and his sisters fought and argued and teased each other like—well, like Stevie and her brothers. Now Phil and Barbara were smiling at each other like best friends. What was going on?

But Mr. Marsten didn’t seem surprised at all. “Well said, Barbara,” he told his daughter. He took his wife’s hand and held it tightly as he spoke. “That sentiment holds true whether that community is the Jewish community, or your country, or your hometown, or even your own family.”

“Especially your own family,” Mrs. Marsten added, looking at her husband lovingly.

That made sense to Stevie. It even helped to explain why Phil and his sisters weren’t fighting tonight. She smiled, thinking of her own family, then of The Saddle Club. Both
were definitely communities she was glad to be a part of, brothers or no brothers.

“I can’t wait for my bat mitzvah,” said Phil’s sister Lauren, who was seven years old. “I can already speak some Hebrew.”

Aunt Karen reached for a second helping of potatoes. “Good for you,” she said. “Speaking Hebrew is important. It’s our ancient language, and it unites Jewish people everywhere. And Paul and I were certainly glad we already spoke it when we decided to move to Israel. But there’s more to becoming a bat or bar mitzvah than speaking Hebrew, right, Phil?”

“That’s for sure,” Phil said sincerely.

For the first time, Stevie thought she was beginning to understand what he meant. Phil’s bar mitzvah wouldn’t be just another birthday party. It was a special event, a life-changing event, like a wedding or a college graduation. And just as on those days, the gifts and party and all the other trappings weren’t the point. The point was the celebration itself—in this case, the celebration of the beginning of adulthood. That was why Phil wasn’t more upset about his missing yarmulke. It was beautiful and special, but he could use another one for his bar mitzvah. That couldn’t change what was special about the day.

Stevie was also beginning to feel a little guilty about her earlier impatience. Now that she had figured out why everyone
was so excited, all she wanted was to be a part of it all. But she still wanted to get Phil’s yarmulke back. In fact, she was more determined than ever. She didn’t want anything as stupid as a petty theft to cast even the slightest dark spot on Phil’s big day.

T
HE
NEXT
DAY
after school The Saddle Club met at the Willow Creek Mall to shop for a bar mitzvah gift for Phil. Their parents had already dropped off sleeping bags, sandwiches, and everything else they would need for their sleepover at Pine Hollow, and Mrs. Atwood was going to pick the girls up from the mall and drive them to the stable.

“I want to make sure we get something really special,” Stevie told Lisa and Carole as they strolled down the long mall corridor, glancing in store windows. She had already told her friends about the dinner and what she’d learned.

“Do you have any ideas for the gift?” Lisa asked. The Saddle Club had decided to pool their money instead of buying separate presents.

Stevie shrugged. “Not a single one,” she admitted. “I was hoping you guys would have something brilliant in mind.”

“Not me,” Lisa said. “What about you, Carole?”

“Hmmm?” When Carole looked up, her friends could tell she hadn’t been listening. For the first time, they also noticed that she looked tired.

“Are you okay, Carole?” Lisa asked, concerned. “You don’t look too good. Are you sick or something?”

“No,” Carole said. “I’m just a little tired, that’s all. I haven’t been sleeping too well because, um, my shoulder has been bothering me. I think I bruised it the other day when I fell off Starlight.”

“Have you been to the doctor?” Stevie asked. “If it’s still bothering you after five days, maybe you sprained it.”

Lisa nodded. “Especially if it hurts so much you can’t sleep.”

“No, no,” Carole said quickly. The last thing she wanted was to get involved in a conversation about her sleeping habits. She wasn’t used to keeping things from her friends, but she was determined to follow her vow of the day before and ignore her dreams. The problem was, her sleeping self hadn’t gotten the message. She had had another terrible nightmare the night before. “It’ll be all right. Really. Now what about this gift for Phil? We’d better start looking if we want to find something before Lisa’s mom comes to get us.”

The others glanced at their watches and agreed. But as they continued through the mall, chatting lightly about possible
gifts for Phil, Lisa couldn’t help sneaking a glance at Carole, wondering about what she’d said. Was Carole hiding something? It wasn’t like her to keep her problems hidden from her friends. After all, that was what The Saddle Club was all about—helping one another. And all of them had learned long ago that that was one of the best things about having friends.

As the girls entered a candy store called Sweet Nothings, Lisa glanced at Carole again and caught Stevie doing the same thing. Stevie met her gaze and shrugged. Obviously she, too, had noticed that something wasn’t right. But what could they do if Carole didn’t want to talk about it?

“I
T
’
S
PERFECT
,” S
TEVIE
declared. “Phil will love it.”

“Definitely,” Lisa agreed. The Saddle Club was watching as a sales clerk wrapped their purchase. They had spent a lot of time debating the best kind of gift to buy. At first Stevie had been determined to find something with a Jewish theme, since the gift was for a bar mitzvah. Lisa had been inclined to look in boutiques for a nice paperweight or other traditional gift item. And Carole, of course, had wanted to head straight to the tack shop for a piece of riding equipment.

In the end they had compromised. As they were leaving a fancy decorating store, Lisa’s sharp eyes had fallen on the perfect item. It was a silver picture frame with a running horse etched on the top. Best of all, it was within their price
range. Lisa and Carole had both been thrilled. Stevie had been unconvinced at first. But then Lisa had pointed out that Phil could put his favorite picture from the bar mitzvah in the frame and treasure it for years to come. That was all Stevie had needed to hear.

“What a relief,” Lisa said as Stevie took the bag the clerk handed her and the three girls left the store. “I can’t believe we finally found something.”

“And it’s perfect,” Stevie said. She glanced at her watch. “We have a few minutes before our ride gets here. How about a snack?”

The others agreed immediately. Within minutes they were seated in a booth at their favorite Italian restaurant, hot slices of gooey pizza in their hands.

Stevie wiped tomato sauce off her chin. “Now that the mystery of what to get Phil is solved, let’s get back to our other mystery,” she said. “Do you think my plan to catch Shannon will work?”

Lisa sighed. “If it doesn’t, there’s no way we’ll get Phil’s yarmulke back before the ceremony.”

“I know. That’s why it has to work,” Stevie said.

Suddenly Carole looked up, her eyes wide. “Oh!” she said. “I forgot to tell you something.”

Immediately Stevie and Lisa were all ears, wondering if Carole was going to tell them what was really wrong.

But that wasn’t what Carole had in mind. “Something else disappeared yesterday while I was at Pine Hollow,” she
said. “My dad’s favorite sunglasses. I left them on the bench in the locker room while I was, um, riding, and when I came back they were nowhere to be found.”

Stevie frowned. “Yesterday, huh? Did you happen to see Shannon anywhere around?”

Carole shook her head. “She wasn’t there. Neither was Joe,” she said. “I’m sure of that, because I saw Rusty out in the paddock when I got there.” All the girls knew that that meant Rusty probably hadn’t been ridden that day. And that meant Joe hadn’t been at Pine Hollow.

“What are you going to do?” Lisa asked Stevie. “There doesn’t seem to be much point in going ahead with your plan now. Maybe we should just forget about it.”

“No way,” Stevie said, looking determined. “We’ve got to try it. Maybe someone borrowed the sunglasses and forgot to return them. Besides, even if Shannon didn’t do it—and I still think she did—Troy or Veronica or someone else could just as easily fall into my trap. We’ll catch the thief, whoever it is.”

“Not Veronica,” Lisa said. “She’s not going to be around tomorrow, remember? She’s on vacation with her parents. They left on Tuesday night right after our riding lesson. She couldn’t stop bragging about their special overnight flight.”

“I forgot about that,” Stevie admitted. “I did my best to tune her out because I wanted to concentrate on Shannon.” She shrugged. “I guess that means she couldn’t have taken the sunglasses, either. So that leaves us just two suspects.”

“Actually, it only leaves one suspect,” Lisa pointed out logically. “We just decided Shannon couldn’t have taken the sunglasses, either.”

“
If
the sunglasses were taken by the same person who took the other stuff,” Stevie said stubbornly. Then she relented. “But anyway, all we really need is one good suspect, and we have one: Troy.”

T
HAT
NIGHT
IN
the hayloft Carole stayed awake longer than either of her friends, listening to the soothing night sounds of the sleeping stable below. But when she finally fell asleep the dream she’d been dreading came almost immediately.

This time she found herself riding Starlight across a blazing-hot desert. She thought she recognized the landscape from several trips she and her friends had taken to a dude ranch out West, although this time she was riding alone. Sweat dripped down her forehead as she searched the horizon for some sign of life. But there wasn’t a single living creature in view except her and her horse. As soon as she realized that, she started to get nervous. And as if on cue, Starlight suddenly stopped short and started to paw the ground, snorting fiercely. Carole clung to the pommel of the heavy Western saddle. With a wild scream that tore the still air, Starlight reared, again and again, until finally he toppled over backward. Carole, who had managed to keep her seat, closed her eyes and prepared to feel the huge weight of the horse crush the life out of her …