Read Online A Summer Without Horses by Bonnie Bryant - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Bonnie Bryant
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telling a whopper like the one I was about to tell. It makes people think this story has been passed down from generation to generation and so it’s
got
to be true. “… Merlin was brought to Willow Creek by the old woman who lived in the house on Garrett Road. You know that big old house on the hill?” That’s another thing about tall tales. They work best if you tie them into something that everybody knows. This house was abandoned years ago and is about as creepy as a house gets. “They say the old woman was a witch—I don’t know about that—only instead of riding around on her broomstick, she rode Merlin. That’s how people knew when she was about to cast a spell—they could hear the steady clip-clop of his hooves!”
“The witch rode a horse?” Natalie asked. Her eyes were wide.
“Yes, a horse,” I went on eagerly, “but not just any horse—a magical horse.”
“What kind of spells did she cast?” Reuben asked.
“The
bad
kind,” I said. “They say that all her spells had to do with horses. She loved Merlin so much and had so much fun riding him that she couldn’t stand the idea that anybody else could have that kind of fun. One man had a young horse he really loved. She cast a spell that madethat young horse suddenly become a very old horse. The colt died of old age by the time he was three! Another time, there was a woman who loved to ride her horse at a canter. The woman cast a spell that made her get seasick so she couldn’t stand the rocking gait of a canter anymore.” “Really?”
“That’s what they say.” I shrugged. “Everything she did made it impossible for people to ride.”
“Like making somebody get a bruise on the place where they sit?” Leslie asked.
I hadn’t even thought about that. I mean it. It hadn’t occurred to me, but it was a really good idea.
“Maybe,” I said.
“So what happened to the witch’s horse?” Mark asked.
“Well,” I replied. “Nobody’s quite sure. According to the story that’s told around town, there was one little girl who used to bring carrots to Merlin when he was in the paddock in back of the old woman’s house. Merlin seemed to like her and the old woman couldn’t stand that. It was bad enough that a horse made the little girl happy, but it was ten times worse that the horse was Merlin.
“One night, the woman climbed onto Merlin’s back. She always rode bareback. It was Halloween, see, and the woman knew that the little girl would be going out in her costume and she was ready to cast her spell. She waited until the girl came to her house. She waited until thelittle girl got up to the door, and then the witch and Merlin rode like the wind—right up to the little girl. The woman swooped down, picked up the little girl, and took her to the woods. The little girl was terrified and whenever she asked the old woman what she was going to do, the old woman just said, ‘Don’t worry, little girl. You’ll be fine. You just won’t ever be able to ride a horse again in your whole life!’ Then she cackled with glee.”
I cackled for them then, too. I’m a pretty good cackler. I cackled so loudly that it made Leslie jump. I had them all frightened out of their wits. I’m so good it scares me sometimes.
“When they got into the darkest part of the woods—you know the stand of pines near the quarry”—they did, of course. The trees are very close together there and it’s always dark, even at noon—“that’s when the woman got off her horse and made the little girl stand in front of a tree while she cast her spell.”
“What did the witch say?” asked Leslie.
“I don’t know, but if I did, I wouldn’t say the words. As soon as the witch had finished her incantation, the little girl started sneezing and wheezing. Then her eyes started itching and got all red. Then the tears began and she was sneezing even harder than before. The witch’s spell had made her desperately allergic to horses! She was so miserable
got
to be true. “… Merlin was brought to Willow Creek by the old woman who lived in the house on Garrett Road. You know that big old house on the hill?” That’s another thing about tall tales. They work best if you tie them into something that everybody knows. This house was abandoned years ago and is about as creepy as a house gets. “They say the old woman was a witch—I don’t know about that—only instead of riding around on her broomstick, she rode Merlin. That’s how people knew when she was about to cast a spell—they could hear the steady clip-clop of his hooves!”
“The witch rode a horse?” Natalie asked. Her eyes were wide.
“Yes, a horse,” I went on eagerly, “but not just any horse—a magical horse.”
“What kind of spells did she cast?” Reuben asked.
“The
bad
kind,” I said. “They say that all her spells had to do with horses. She loved Merlin so much and had so much fun riding him that she couldn’t stand the idea that anybody else could have that kind of fun. One man had a young horse he really loved. She cast a spell that madethat young horse suddenly become a very old horse. The colt died of old age by the time he was three! Another time, there was a woman who loved to ride her horse at a canter. The woman cast a spell that made her get seasick so she couldn’t stand the rocking gait of a canter anymore.” “Really?”
“That’s what they say.” I shrugged. “Everything she did made it impossible for people to ride.”
“Like making somebody get a bruise on the place where they sit?” Leslie asked.
I hadn’t even thought about that. I mean it. It hadn’t occurred to me, but it was a really good idea.
“Maybe,” I said.
“So what happened to the witch’s horse?” Mark asked.
“Well,” I replied. “Nobody’s quite sure. According to the story that’s told around town, there was one little girl who used to bring carrots to Merlin when he was in the paddock in back of the old woman’s house. Merlin seemed to like her and the old woman couldn’t stand that. It was bad enough that a horse made the little girl happy, but it was ten times worse that the horse was Merlin.
“One night, the woman climbed onto Merlin’s back. She always rode bareback. It was Halloween, see, and the woman knew that the little girl would be going out in her costume and she was ready to cast her spell. She waited until the girl came to her house. She waited until thelittle girl got up to the door, and then the witch and Merlin rode like the wind—right up to the little girl. The woman swooped down, picked up the little girl, and took her to the woods. The little girl was terrified and whenever she asked the old woman what she was going to do, the old woman just said, ‘Don’t worry, little girl. You’ll be fine. You just won’t ever be able to ride a horse again in your whole life!’ Then she cackled with glee.”
I cackled for them then, too. I’m a pretty good cackler. I cackled so loudly that it made Leslie jump. I had them all frightened out of their wits. I’m so good it scares me sometimes.
“When they got into the darkest part of the woods—you know the stand of pines near the quarry”—they did, of course. The trees are very close together there and it’s always dark, even at noon—“that’s when the woman got off her horse and made the little girl stand in front of a tree while she cast her spell.”
“What did the witch say?” asked Leslie.
“I don’t know, but if I did, I wouldn’t say the words. As soon as the witch had finished her incantation, the little girl started sneezing and wheezing. Then her eyes started itching and got all red. Then the tears began and she was sneezing even harder than before. The witch’s spell had made her desperately allergic to horses! She was so miserable
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