under a lot of pressure, but I still think you’re going to do a wonderful job as Annie.”
“I know I will,” Lisa promised. “But it’s not just because of me. It’s because I’ve got the best coaches in the world.”
“Drama coaches?” Mrs. Spitz asked.
“Not
exactly
,” Lisa said.
A T EXACTLY NINE FORTY-THREE Carole and Stevie rang the Atwood doorbell. They had commandeered Colonel Hanson into giving them a ride over. He had also supplied a tray of marshmallow crispies for the meeting. All three of them had waited in the car for five minutes, not wanting to disturb Lisa. They had decided to ring one minute early, so that they could catch her right as she started her break.
Mrs. Atwood opened the door right away. “Good timing, girls. You’ve got thirty seconds to get up to her bedroom. Now, scoot!” Lisa and Carole didn’t have to be told twice. Before Mrs. Atwood could finish asking Colonel Hanson to come in for coffee, they were through the door. They knew the layout of the Atwoodhouse by heart and were up the stairs in an instant. Like a herd of wild horses, they thundered down the hallway to Lisa’s room.
“Open up! Committee to Save Lisa Atwood’s Life as a Pony Clubber!” Stevie announced, banging on the door.
Inside the room they heard Lisa counting, “Five, four, three, two, one—open sesame!”
Carole and Stevie burst inside, both talking a mile a minute. Lisa tried to interrupt to tell them she couldn’t listen to both of them at once, but they refused to allow her to talk. “We only have twelve minutes! No, eleven!” Stevie said.
By the time they were down to eight, two things had become clear to Lisa. First, the team was currently a disorganized mess because nobody had had time to get her own things together, let alone work on gathering the communal equipment. And second, the dressage team desperately needed help.
“So if I have this right, what you’re saying is—” Lisa started to say.
“What we’re saying is, can that computer of yours print out equipment checklists and feeding schedules as well as history papers because
we want you to be the stable manager!
” Stevie finished.
Lisa looked at her two friends. Her day had had as many highs and lows as the roller coaster at the amusement park. And it was ending on the highest peak yet.
“So?” Carole asked.
“So? So! So I say since you guys got the news out in four minutes, we still have eight to celebrate in! Break out the marshmallow crispies!” Lisa cried.
“Yippee-hi-yi-yay!” Stevie whooped.
The Saddle Club made good use of the time allowed. They did an impromptu dance around Lisa’s room—which involved screaming for joy and tossing stuffed animals in the air—flopped down onto her bed, and ate about six crispies apiece.
“This really is the perfect solution,” Lisa said, chewing on a treat. “I have
some
time to devote to the rally—I just can’t be responsible for getting Prancer ready. As stable manager I’ll only have to answer to you guys.”
“More like we’ll have to answer to you,” Stevie pointed out.
“And even though you’re not riding, you’re still making a huge contribution to the team,” Carole said.
“Boy, will Max and Mrs. Reg be thrilled. Especially Mrs. Reg. The poor woman walked in on us and Polly and Betsy when we were on the brink of a knockdown, drag-out fight over who was going to buy the new first-aid kit!” Stevie exclaimed.
“Consider it bought,” Lisa said. She dashed off a note to herself on a memo pad. Carole and Stevie leaned back on their pillows and grinned from ear to ear. They felt relieved already, knowing that Lisa, the most organizedand efficient member of The Saddle Club—and probably of Horse Wise, too—had taken over.
“I can just picture the beautiful checklists and schedules you’ll draw up on your computer,” Stevie said dreamily.
“And the clipboard you’ll carry around at the rally,” Carole added, sighing.
Lisa leaned
“I know I will,” Lisa promised. “But it’s not just because of me. It’s because I’ve got the best coaches in the world.”
“Drama coaches?” Mrs. Spitz asked.
“Not
exactly
,” Lisa said.
A T EXACTLY NINE FORTY-THREE Carole and Stevie rang the Atwood doorbell. They had commandeered Colonel Hanson into giving them a ride over. He had also supplied a tray of marshmallow crispies for the meeting. All three of them had waited in the car for five minutes, not wanting to disturb Lisa. They had decided to ring one minute early, so that they could catch her right as she started her break.
Mrs. Atwood opened the door right away. “Good timing, girls. You’ve got thirty seconds to get up to her bedroom. Now, scoot!” Lisa and Carole didn’t have to be told twice. Before Mrs. Atwood could finish asking Colonel Hanson to come in for coffee, they were through the door. They knew the layout of the Atwoodhouse by heart and were up the stairs in an instant. Like a herd of wild horses, they thundered down the hallway to Lisa’s room.
“Open up! Committee to Save Lisa Atwood’s Life as a Pony Clubber!” Stevie announced, banging on the door.
Inside the room they heard Lisa counting, “Five, four, three, two, one—open sesame!”
Carole and Stevie burst inside, both talking a mile a minute. Lisa tried to interrupt to tell them she couldn’t listen to both of them at once, but they refused to allow her to talk. “We only have twelve minutes! No, eleven!” Stevie said.
By the time they were down to eight, two things had become clear to Lisa. First, the team was currently a disorganized mess because nobody had had time to get her own things together, let alone work on gathering the communal equipment. And second, the dressage team desperately needed help.
“So if I have this right, what you’re saying is—” Lisa started to say.
“What we’re saying is, can that computer of yours print out equipment checklists and feeding schedules as well as history papers because
we want you to be the stable manager!
” Stevie finished.
Lisa looked at her two friends. Her day had had as many highs and lows as the roller coaster at the amusement park. And it was ending on the highest peak yet.
“So?” Carole asked.
“So? So! So I say since you guys got the news out in four minutes, we still have eight to celebrate in! Break out the marshmallow crispies!” Lisa cried.
“Yippee-hi-yi-yay!” Stevie whooped.
The Saddle Club made good use of the time allowed. They did an impromptu dance around Lisa’s room—which involved screaming for joy and tossing stuffed animals in the air—flopped down onto her bed, and ate about six crispies apiece.
“This really is the perfect solution,” Lisa said, chewing on a treat. “I have
some
time to devote to the rally—I just can’t be responsible for getting Prancer ready. As stable manager I’ll only have to answer to you guys.”
“More like we’ll have to answer to you,” Stevie pointed out.
“And even though you’re not riding, you’re still making a huge contribution to the team,” Carole said.
“Boy, will Max and Mrs. Reg be thrilled. Especially Mrs. Reg. The poor woman walked in on us and Polly and Betsy when we were on the brink of a knockdown, drag-out fight over who was going to buy the new first-aid kit!” Stevie exclaimed.
“Consider it bought,” Lisa said. She dashed off a note to herself on a memo pad. Carole and Stevie leaned back on their pillows and grinned from ear to ear. They felt relieved already, knowing that Lisa, the most organizedand efficient member of The Saddle Club—and probably of Horse Wise, too—had taken over.
“I can just picture the beautiful checklists and schedules you’ll draw up on your computer,” Stevie said dreamily.
“And the clipboard you’ll carry around at the rally,” Carole added, sighing.
Lisa leaned
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