Horse Feathers (8 page)

Stevie held the tiny newborn up to her face to examine it closely. What she found was that it could match her stare for stare—clearly as curious about her as she was about it. It honked insistently.

“All right, all right,” answered Stevie, placing the gosling carefully in the brooder. “You’re a bossy one. No wonder you were born first.”

She added a small tray of feed to the brooder, close enough to the gosling that he wouldn’t have to stumble too far to reach it. Chad volunteered to get some water and shortly returned with a shallow dish, which Stevie placed a few inches from the food. “There you go, Number One,” said Stevie. Number One honked again and popped his beak into the feed, experimenting. Before they knew it, he was eating and drinking, quite literally at the same time. He filled his beak with
food then took a mouthful of water, dropping some of the food on the towel in his haste to drink.

“You may need to speak to him about his table manners,” teased Lisa.

Stevie smiled. She thought Number One was so cute, she could easily overlook the fact that he was a bit of a pig. Besides, she doubted that she had been the neatest eater when she was little.

Having had his fill, Number One waddled a few inches from the feed tray, shook himself off, and then collapsed into a fluffy little ball of feathers. Moments later he was sound asleep.

“So much for that,” said Stevie.

“On that note,” said Mrs. Lake, “I think that we should do the same.”

The boys groaned, but Mrs. Lake reminded everyone that despite the special occasion, it was still a school night.

As the boys slowly left the room, Mr. Lake turned to Lisa. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“Make sure you get some sleep tonight,” Lisa said to Stevie on her way out the door.

Stevie smiled, watching as her father followed Lisa and her mother down the stairs. Moments later, she heard the click of the front door.

Stevie took a last look at the incubator. Everything was peaceful and still. She pulled on her pajamas and crawled into bed, satisfied that the eggs and Number One were all doing fine. Then she reached out and turned off the lamp beside her bed.

L
ISA CRAWLED INTO
bed and snuggled under the covers, checking her alarm clock to make sure it was set. She closed her eyes to sleep but was too overwhelmed by what she’d seen earlier.

Of course, she, Stevie, and Carole had experienced the miracle of birth before. They’d watched Delilah’s foal, Samson, be born. And the cats at the stable were always having kittens. But this was different. The little creature had had to fight so hard to break the shell to get into the world. Lisa found it absolutely amazing. With her thoughts on Number One, she drifted off into a contented sleep.

A
FEW HOUSES
away, Stevie was finding it a little more difficult to do the same. In the darkness of the room, she thought she could hear movement in the incubator. Perhaps it was Number Two trying to break free.

Stevie glanced at the glowing numbers on the clock. It was 10:35—eight and a half hours before she’d have to get up for school. Surely a person didn’t need
that
much sleep every night. Stevie decided that if she got up and watched the eggs for just a little longer, she would still have enough time to get plenty of rest before morning.
Besides, how could anyone expect me to sleep at a time like this?
Stevie reasoned.

Her mind made up, Stevie crept out of bed and sat down next to the incubator. The room was dark but the bulbs shining in the brooder provided plenty of light for Stevie to keep an eye on both the incubator and Number One, whose feathers had begun to dry under the gentle heat of the light.

Stevie turned her attention to the incubator. Sure enough, as she had suspected, Number Two was wiggling madly away, attempting to break out of its shell. And another egg, Number Three, had also decided it was time to hatch. However, neither of the eggs appeared to be in any great rush.

Stevie grabbed her pillow and comforter off the bed and snuggled down on the floor beside the incubator. She rested her head on her pillow, watching the eggs as they wiggled purposefully. Her eyelids grew heavy, even as she struggled to keep them open. She was determined to be awake when the goslings were born. That was the last thought Stevie had before she drifted off to sleep.

Stevie was jerked awake by the frantic quacking of Number Two, who seemed a little perturbed that she had slept through his entire birth. He glared at Stevie and impatiently quacked again until she sleepily got to her knees and lifted the lid off the incubator.

“Breakfast is coming,” she said softly, moving him to the brooder and placing him gently beside Number One, who had awakened to greet his sibling. Stevie was watching Number One show Two how to eat when she suddenly heard another quack behind her—Number Three!

Stevie scooped him up and placed him in the brooder beside One and Two. Then she quietly opened her bedroom door and tiptoed down the hall to get fresh water from the bathroom sink. When she returned, goslings One through Three had already finished off the feed. Stevie added more, along with the water, then watched until they’d had their fill. Then the three little goslings cuddled together and promptly fell asleep.

Stevie tiredly rubbed her eyes as she glanced at the clock. It was two
A.M
.! Five more hours and it would be time to get up for school—which no longer gave her very much time to sleep. Stevie picked up her pillow and comforter and gratefully crawled back into bed.

Stevie was awakened a few hours later by another persistent quack. Number Four was staring at Stevie,
apparently waiting to be added to the brooder with his other siblings. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” mumbled Stevie, stumbling out of bed yet again and finding her way to the incubator. She picked up Number Four and put him in with Numbers One through Three.

Feeling that she should stay awake so as not to miss any more of the hatchings, Stevie once again grabbed her pillow and comforter. This time she settled into her armchair, propping her head up with her pillow. No sooner had she shut her eyes than an annoying
beep, beep, beep
pulled her out of her stupor.

“Number Five,” she mumbled. “I’m coming.” The beeping continued, and Stevie opened one eye. The room was flooded with sunlight. The noise wasn’t Number Five, it was her alarm clock. “It can’t be morning already,” she groaned. She felt as if she hadn’t slept a wink.

Stevie wiggled her toes and was surprised to find something warm and fuzzy resting on them. Curious, she leaned forward and glanced down at her feet, which were poking out from under the comforter. Numbers One and Three had somehow managed to escape from the brooder and were snuggled up against her bare feet, fast asleep. Stevie smiled, suddenly feeling very maternal. After all, what was a little lost sleep?

S
TEVIE WAS NOT
having a good day at school. After putting One and Three back in the brooder, she’d rushed to get ready for school, running out the door while still trying to tie her shoelaces. Taking care of the quacking little goslings (all of whom had made her very aware that they preferred to be fed
immediately
upon rising) had made Stevie late leaving the house, which meant that she hadn’t had time to call Carole and tell her that four of the goslings had hatched. She’d also forgotten to grab breakfast, which caused her stomach to growl uncomfortably all through history class. To make matters worse, not only had she not done her homework for that day’s classes, but
she’d also forgotten her algebra book at home on her desk, which meant that she’d had to ask her teacher if she could share with another student. Her teacher was not pleased.

The only class Stevie felt awake in was the last class of the day, science. The class was doing a unit on biology. Ms. Anderson had begun the hour with a discussion of the anatomy of an earthworm, a subject that was totally revolting to Stevie. She had far too many gruesome memories of what her brothers liked to do to earthworms. Alex’s favorite experiment was to see how many earthworms he could make out of one.

Stevie raised her hand.

“Yes, Stevie?” said Ms. Anderson.

In hopes of deterring her teacher from the current discussion, Stevie explained about the goose eggs that she’d won in the Job’s Comforters contest and how they’d started to hatch the night before.

Intrigued, Ms. Anderson agreed to momentarily put aside the discussion of the earthworm to allow Stevie to tell the class about her eggs. Stevie made her way to the front of the room and used the chalkboard to draw diagrams of the eggs, the incubator, and the brooder as she spoke. Unfortunately, once you’ve described one gosling hatching, you’ve basically described them all,
despite Stevie’s attempts at creative storytelling. Even with the question-and-answer period, she was only able to stretch her egg discussion to ten minutes.

“Thank you, Stevie,” said Ms. Anderson as Stevie took her seat again. There was still half an hour of class left, and, much to the students’ dismay, their teacher quickly returned to the earthworm’s finer internal points.

Veronica, sitting two rows over from Stevie, had faked several yawns throughout Stevie’s lecture on goose eggs, wearing a look that clearly said,
Could anything be more boring?
Unfortunately, the answer was yes. Earthworms. And Veronica seemed to have even less of an urge to listen to
that
topic than she did to Stevie’s ramblings about wiggling eggs.

“Okay, everyone, please turn to page two-fifty-six for a picture of the earthworm’s anatomy,” said Ms. Anderson.

As the students dutifully turned to the proper page, Veronica scooped up her books, got to her feet, and walked to the front of the class. “I’d love to stay for the rest of what is likely to be a very interesting discussion,” she said sweetly to Ms. Anderson, “but I have to go.” She handed the teacher a note. “I have an important appointment.” With the assumption that permission had already been granted, she turned and left the
class, shooting Stevie an overly sweet smile on her way out the door.

Joe Novick, who sat next to Stevie, leaned over. “You’d think people as rich as the diAngelos could get orthodontists to make house calls,” he joked.

Stevie shook her head disgustedly and shrugged.

Overhearing Joe’s remark, Ms. Anderson smiled, amused, and glanced at the note. “Well, it’s not an orthodontist’s appointment. It’s her—” The teacher squinted, apparently not believing what she was reading. “It’s her vaulting coach.”

Stevie gagged. She should have known that Veronica would pull a stunt like that. Especially since her sudden interest the other day. And especially since she wasn’t one to take competitions lightly, even schooling competitions at Pine Hollow. Stevie had to warn Lisa and Carole.

The remainder of the class seemed to take forever. The more impatient Stevie got, the slower the class went. An eternity later, the bell finally sounded, signaling the end of class and the school day.

Stevie shoved her books in her locker and dashed over to Pine Hollow, where she was certain she would find Lisa and Carole. She was not disappointed.

Stevie found everyone at the outdoor ring, where
Lisa and Carole, along with several other students, were taking turns practicing their skills on Clara. Red was again acting as the longeur, as well as calling out tips to the riders. Max stood at the fence, watching, pleased to see the progress his students were making.

“Hey, Stevie, you’re just in time,” said Lisa as Stevie rushed up to them. “Max said we could practice our vaulting today.”

Stevie bent over and rested her hands on her knees, waving her arm as she tried to catch her breath from her quick dash to the stable. “Can’t stay … have to hurry home … no time …”

Lisa and Carole exchanged looks.

“Where’s the fire?” joked Carole.

Stevie shook her head. She gulped for breath. “Goslings …”

“Lings?”
asked Lisa, surprised. “As in more than one?”

This time Stevie nodded. “Four,” she managed to say, holding up four fingers to emphasize the point.

“The eggs hatched last night?” asked Carole, incredulous.

Lisa smiled guiltily. She’d been so excited about getting to their vaulting practice that she’d completely forgotten to mention the eggs. “I was on the phone with Stevie last
night when they started hatching,” she told Carole. “Only Stevie—being Stevie—instead of telling me what was going on, led me to believe that she’d just had a heart attack, or worse, and then she hung up on me.”

“To be fair,” interrupted Stevie as she straightened up, slowly regaining her breath, “that was definitely a ‘they’re hatching’ type of gasp, and I didn’t hang up on you, I dropped the phone.”

“So when the phone crashed to the floor,” continued Lisa dramatically, “I thought I should run over to make sure that one of my best friends hadn’t accidentally suffered a concussion executing a nosedive out of her desk chair. But instead of finding her unconscious on the floor, I found her hovering over the incubator like an anxious parent-to-be.”

“I wasn’t hovering,” Stevie replied indignantly. “I was being
aware
.”