Spirit Riding Free--Pru's Diary Read online

  “Chica Linda is a happy horse,” Solana reported.

  “It’s curry time,” Abigail said. She rubbed her belly. “I can’t wait to taste it.” She quickly added, “Again.”

  “I can’t go,” Pru told them all.

  “Why not?” Lucky asked. “You’ll miss the fun.”

  “Catalina has a good act idea. Better than mine. She’ll win for sure.”

  “It’s not a competition…. ” Lucky tried to remind her, but in Pru’s mind it was a full-on competition now!

  “I gotta do better. I gotta get Lydia Sebastian to write about me. I gotta get in the newspaper so my whole family can see.” Pru climbed over the corral fence and whistled for Boomerang. “I’m going to work here with Boomerang—all night if I have to—until I come up with a great idea.”

  Diary Entry

  Dear Diary,

  1. Fall down more.

  2. Get hit by pie—a small pie for me, and a big one for Boomerang.

  3. Read Boomerang a book.

  4. Cancel the show.

  It’s getting so hard to come up with anything new. All I want to do is go back to the “horse plays music” idea, which again, wasn’t great and didn’t work—but it’s as if that is the only idea stuck on an endless loop in my head.

  Last night, after I had my freak-out, my very good, best friends stayed awhile to help me with ideas, but Abigail’s stomach kept rumbling and I could see Lucky looking over her shoulder at all the festivities going on.

  I gave up.

  My stomach was rumbling, too, and we weren’t getting any closer to a genius idea.

  We all decided that we needed to go out. We needed to eat. We needed to have a fun night.

  And it was really fun.

  We ate the curry and the spanakopita and something from the Middle East called falafel, which was like little fried balls of yumminess in a soft and delicious sandwich bread called a pita. I liked the creamy sauce, too.

  Abigail is collecting recipes. When we get back home to Miradero, she’s going to make a feast. We can all help—well, I’d like it if the horses didn’t cook, but I’m not sure that’s a fight I’ll win. Apparently Chica Linda is getting to be quite the chef’s assistant while Boomerang is with me.

  When we were full up to the top, we went back to our own caravan area and everyone said good night. The second they all left me, I climbed onto Boomerang’s back, stared into space, and tried to come up with something good.

  When my friends found me the next morning, Boomerang and I were both asleep in the saddle.

  The opening ceremony of the circus was held in the biggest tent that Pru had ever seen. It was created by linking several of the smaller circus tents together, so it had kind of a mismatched feel to it, like a huge billowing patchwork quilt.

  The evening began with a parade.

  “I’m here!” Pru waved at Abigail and Lucky from the stands. Since Pru was doing an exhibition act, she wasn’t in the parade, but her friends were. They were carrying the flag of El Circo Dos Grillos in the welcome pageant. Solana was with them. She was riding her own horse, Luna, and was carrying a candle.

  Pru had finished practicing early with Boomerang because Abigail needed to get him ready. That worked out fine, because she wasn’t really practicing much anyway, more like staring at Boomerang, hoping the horse might have a clever idea for their performance. Boomerang wasn’t helpful. He ate the grass while Pru wrote terrible, horrible, rotten ideas in her diary. She’d actually ripped out the page in the end, because there was nothing good on it.

  Shaking off the feeling that she’d wasted the day, Pru found a seat in the front row of the stands. She wanted to be close to the action, where her friends could hear her cheer. She planned to be the loudest!

  There was an empty seat next to Pru.

  “Can I sit here?” a woman asked politely.

  Pru glanced up to see Lydia Sebastian standing over her, pointing at the spot on the bench.

  “Uhhh…” She felt so uncomfortable, as if she were talking to a big celebrity. She steadied her nerves because this was a good opportunity to talk to the reporter, without Catalina. In fact, Pru took a good look around: Catalina wasn’t anywhere in sight. It was a big tent, but still…. Pru didn’t think she was at the celebration.

  Lydia introduced herself.

  “I’m Pru,” Pru replied. Since they’d never met before, she added, “I’m the clown act for El Circo Dos Grillos.”

  “I look forward to seeing your act,” Lydia said. There was a kindness in her voice that made Pru smile. “Got anything special planned?”

  “Sure,” Pru said, pinning a smile on her face. “Lots of things. Big things. Interesting things. Big and interesting things.” Ack. She was sounding more like Abigail than herself. Pru tried to relax.

  “That all sounds great,” Lydia told her. “I’m a reporter,” she said, as if Pru didn’t know already. “Maybe I’ll write about you in the paper.”

  Pru held up two fingers and twisted them together. “Hope so.”

  Pru was trying to think of something else to talk about, when loud music suddenly filled the tent.

  “It’s starting,” Lydia said, taking out a pen and paper from her bag. “I love the opening ceremony, don’t you?”

  “I’ve never been to a gathering like this before,” Pru admitted. “My friends are in the parade, but I don’t know what else to expect.”

  “It’s not a normal parade,” Lydia told her. “Be prepared to be surprised!”

  Lucky and Abigail hadn’t told her about anything special they were planning. But then again, Pru had been pretty absorbed in her own act and worries. Now she wondered what Lydia was talking about. She leaned forward in her seat as the flaps at the back of the tent opened and the opening ceremony exhibition began.

  Lydia was right. This wasn’t a normal parade. Pru had thought that everyone would just march around the ring, on foot or horseback, waving flags and cheering for the circuses. But it wasn’t like that at all.

  From the instant the tent flaps opened, acrobats came in flipping cartwheels. They leaped and tumbled and landed on one another’s shoulders, making a human tower five people high!

  “Which circus is that?” Pru asked Lydia.

  Lydia grinned. “They’re all from different circuses! That’s the best part.”

  Pru couldn’t believe she didn’t know that there had been groups meeting from mixed-up circuses to put on their shows today. Had Lucky and Abigail been working with other groups? Pru realized she didn’t always know what they were doing when she was practicing with Boomerang.

  Above her head, trapeze artists began swinging. Pru could see now that this was also a mixed-up circus group. No one had the same costume on, and yet, they were fabulous!

  Lydia said, “They can’t do the most impressive tricks here, because those take time to learn, but flipping and catching off the trapeze bars into the arms of someone you barely know is really impressive!”

  Pru agreed. The same went for the tightrope acts—they didn’t do their hardest stuff; they saved that for their main performance during the weekend, but the trust the performers showed to their counterparts in other circuses was incredible. El Circo Dos Grillos had amazing tightrope walkers, including Solana. Solana wasn’t performing, but her parents were there, high above the audience. They shared the spotlight with performers from four other big tops, and everyone cheered!

  When it was time for the flags, Lucky led the way. She was holding their circus flag and standing, one foot on Chica Linda and one on Spirit. Pru had seen Lucky do tricks like this a thousand times, but when she flipped over and jumped, still standing, onto a strange horse that had moved in next to her—a horse from another circus—Pru was so impressed that she jumped to her feet and cheered.

  Spirit didn’t allow other riders on his back, so he stayed beside Lucky. But Chica Linda let a boy from the Russian River Circus ride her, and then the rider leaped from horse to horse while moving. Th
e boy landed, firm footed, on a black stallion, and a new girl landed on just one foot, balanced on top of Boomerang. Abigail had started on Boomerang herself and then suddenly was riding the stallion. Pru hadn’t even seen her move there, it was so fluid.

  The horses stayed together, riding fast and in unison, while the riders played leapfrog on their backs. It was dangerous and exhilarating. All the riders held tightly to their circus’s flag, and the horses were dressed in the circus’s colors.

  Suddenly there was a loud cheer from the seat next to her, and Pru saw that Lydia was also standing and cheering. Pru had thought she’d be the loudest, but Lydia was good cheer competition! They stood together, shouting and howling and clapping and—through their similar enthusiasm—becoming friends. By the time Lucky landed back on Spirit and Abigail swung up onto Chica Linda, Pru and Lydia were hugging each other, jumping up and down together.

  “That was the most amazing horseback riding I’ve ever seen!” Lydia said, making notes on her paper as the horses and riders passed them and rows and rows of trained dogs came barking past.

  Pru smiled. “The rider in front was my friend Lucky with her horse, Spirit.” She pointed to Abigail, now sitting back on Chica Linda. “And that’s Abigail. We’re the PALs: Pru, Abigail, and Lucky,” she explained proudly.

  “Maybe I can talk to them later?” Lydia asked. “For the article? Would they be open to an interview?”

  At first, Pru felt a little pang of jealousy. She hadn’t considered that Lucky and Abigail might get in the newspaper. Would there be room for all of them? How could she make her parents proud if she wasn’t in the paper, too?

  But then, as quickly as the jealous feelings came, they left. “I’d be happy to introduce you!” she said. “You should meet the horses, too!”

  Diary Entry

  Dear Diary,

  Lucky and Abigail said they wanted to surprise me with the show, and boy was I surprised! It was amazing. I was so proud of my friends, now I just want them to be proud of me as well.

  We spent hours with Lydia. Once I got to know her better, she wasn’t intimidating anymore. And there were some big surprises—like, she loves s’mores almost as much as Abigail does. They had a little contest to see who could eat more toasted marshmallows. I love a challenge but was glad I skipped that one!

  After the eats, we decided to go to the corral and check on the horses. Lydia doesn’t ride, but she loves horses, so she tagged along.

  Lucky started calling the reporter “Stomach of Steel” Sebastian because she was totally feeling fine after eating more than thirty marshmallows, while Abigail, who’d managed only one more, was moaning, holding her belly, and insisting she needed to lie down. We got to the corral and Abigail made herself a bed of hay.

  She was babbling. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll just lie here stuffed like a pillow. Lucky can have Boomerang if I explode. I can’t move…. I’m never eating another marshmallow again!” Which we all knew wasn’t true. “Just leave me here till morning.” She was going on and on, while we went to put nighttime blankets on the horses.

  Lydia took care of Boomerang for Abigail.

  While we made sure the horses had enough hay and water, Lydia became super chatty, like Abigail. I hadn’t realized how similar those two were!

  Lydia told us that she’d always wanted to be a writer. Whenever she had a pencil or pen, she’d write—on chalkboards, paper, napkins, even walls if there wasn’t anywhere else to put down her thoughts. When she got a chance to cover the circus, she jumped at the chance and, all these years later, still loved her job.

  Abigail, who was listening to us talk, shouted from the hay bales. “I used to like writing, too, before I got so stuffed I couldn’t lift my hands.” She wiggled to show us how her hands were weighted down. “Miss Flores is going to be mad.”

  I laughed.

  Lydia said that the town she lived in was a lot like Miradero. Copper Springs has only one school, so older kids were in the same room with younger ones, and their version of Miss Flores was Mrs. Goldfarb.

  Catalina and Lydia were in the school together—they were kind of like Turo and Snips, where Turo is the oldest kid at school and Snips the youngest.

  A couple of years ago, just as Lydia was graduating, Catalina’s parents took her from school and left Copper Springs to be in the circus full-time. They’d kept in touch.

  Part of me worried that there was no chance for me to be in the paper. The bond between Catalina and Lydia was strong. She told us that there was even a song they both loved and whenever they saw each other, they’d sing it and think of home.

  I knew that song.

  It goes like this:

  The heartbeat of the stallion

  Nickers in the breeze.

  The wind gallops in four-beat stride

  And the herd calls through the trees!

  I’d have sung it, but I felt nervous around Lydia and didn’t want to be embarrassed.

  Though she didn’t mean to worry me, Lydia’s stories put me on edge. I know that I can compete with Catalina in the ring, but I can’t compete with friendship. I glanced at Abigail, who was dramatically moaning and rolling around in the hay, and Lucky, who was giving Spirit an apple. I understood the bonds of friendship, and if I had to write an article about the PALs or someone else, I was pretty sure I’d pick the PALs.

  I frowned.

  Lydia noticed and assured me that she’d be an impartial judge of who gets into the paper. Knowing Catalina wouldn’t give her an edge.

  But then… she added the one thing that stuck with me all night.

  Lydia said that Catalina seems sad. Last year, when they met at the exhibition, Catalina was loving her life in the circus and couldn’t stop talking about it.

  But this year, she’s quiet, withdrawn, and always alone.

  Catalina told Lydia that a lot of her circus friends had left the caravan to go to boarding schools or simply gone back home. She was one of the only girls her age still on the circuit. Apparently Catalina also asked Lydia if she’d been back to Copper Springs. Lydia had and told Catalina about the haunted hotel, the abandoned mine, and the new playhouse that she’d never seen.

  Catalina had so many questions about Copper Springs, it seemed odd. Especially given how much she used to love the circus. Lydia wondered what was wrong.

  And that made me wonder, too.

  Want a marshmallow?”

  Abigail burst into the room soon after Pru woke up, waving a half-empty bag in Pru’s face.

  “What?” Pru squinted at the bag, then at Abigail, and finally at Lucky and Solana, who were standing at the foot of her bed. “Ew. No.” She sat up and yawned. Pru asked Abigail, “I thought you were never eating another marshmallow, ever.”

  “That was yesterday. Today’s a new day,” Abigail said happily, popping a sweet fluffy treat into her mouth.

  “Rise and shine,” Solana said. She had Pru’s clown costume in her hand. “We’re here to help you get ready for the best clown exhibition ever.”

  “It’s going to be so great that you’ll be in the paper, and everyone will be talking about it for years,” Lucky said as Solana handed Pru the costume. “Okay, maybe not years. And we really don’t have an idea yet, but we are here to help!” From behind her back, Lucky surprised Pru with a plate of pancakes and a cup of steaming tea.

  “We knew you’d want to work all day,” Abigail said. “So eat up. We’re ready to help!”

  After they’d said good night to Lydia, Pru had fallen asleep late and had nightmares about getting into the ring and having it be like the old days, where she panicked and couldn’t do anything. In her dreams, she just stood there, mouth agape, staring at the silent crowd. After a few minutes they began to boo. And boo. And boo. And boo.

  It was the worst dream ever.

  After she woke up, Pru tried to calm herself by thinking of something her dad might say in this situation, but all she could come up with was “You gotta get back on the horse
that threw ya.” It didn’t apply to this situation. She wished he was here so she could ask him for advice.

  And then, just as she was getting ready to write a letter home, her friends arrived—eager and ready to help. Pru couldn’t stop smiling.

  “Thanks,” Pru said, taking breakfast from Lucky. She ate it quickly and then put on her costume.

  “Boomerang is dressed, too,” Abigail said as they went outside. There Boomerang was, wearing his own clown costume with his mane and tail braided. “I made him extra pretty for you today,” Abigail said. “He fussed at first, but I shared the marshmallows and now we’re good.”

  Boomerang burped and an uneaten marshmallow fell out of his mouth. Abigail scooped it up and put it back in the bag. “I’ll save that one for later,” she said.

  “I convinced Estrella to let us have the practice tent for extra time today. Since so many acts have already gone, she agreed,” Solana said.

  They made their way to the small tent and Pru set up the drums.

  Boomerang rejected the idea of playing. Pru gave a look to Chica Linda. They had all heard her play, but she stepped back now, still unwilling to perform.

  Spirit wasn’t a musical kind of horse, so Pru didn’t even bother to ask.

  “Okay, new ideas…” She tapped her forehead with a finger.

  “Let’s do what we’d do at home,” Lucky suggested.

  Pru didn’t understand.

  “Just ride,” Lucky said. “We’re trying too hard to be different. Maybe something will come out of us all acting normal.”

  Pru nodded and hopped up onto her own horse’s back. It felt good to be back on Chica Linda, and Pru leaned into the familiarity of riding her own steed. Chica Linda was made for competition. She loved racing and jumping nearly as much as Pru did. When Pru squeezed her legs and gave Chica Linda the signal to run, the horse went wild. She bucked up, as if cheering for the freedom, and took off at a gallop around the ring.

  There weren’t many obstacles, but what she could find, Chica Linda rode around. Someone had left out two chairs, and Pru and Chica Linda circled them like barrels. There was a stack of weights left by the strongman. Chica Linda jumped over those, as if over a fence. She wove through the acrobat’s crates of costumes and then started around the circuit again.