when they were finished.“Um, I think you guys are doing a good job. It wouldn’t be easy, doing a call-in show live and all.”
“Thanks,” Lisa whispered as she disconnected. Chad had started this whole mess. Was he feeling guilty?
The phone rang. “We’re
Horse Talk
, and you’re on the air!” Lisa said with renewed enthusiasm. Whatever Chad’s motives, it was nice to have answered one real question.
“Hi,” said the caller. “I took a pony ride at the zoo several years ago, and I have to say I didn’t think it felt like work at all. I mean, I just sat there. I didn’t notice any particular stink, either.”
Carole rolled her eyes at Lisa. “Is that your question?” she asked.
“Oh, no,” said the caller. “I’ve been listening to everybody talk about squirrels, and I was thinking, really, horses are a lot more like cows than they are like squirrels. So why don’t people ride cows? Have you ever ridden a cow? And do you think cows could climb trees?”
S LOWLY THE HANDS of the clock dragged themselves toward five. The stupid questions rolled in as inexorably as a morning fog. Lisa felt utterly drained. “One more question,” she mouthed to Carole, who nodded.
“Hi,” said a voice that sounded like a very young girl. “Am I really on the radio?”
Lisa sighed. Another joke call. “Yes, you really are,” she said. “Welcome to
Horse Talk
. What’s your name?”
“Melissa,” said the girl, “but everybody calls me Missa.”
“Hi, Missa,” Carole chimed in. “What can we help you with?”
“Well, see—” Missi began. Lisa sighed again. Another long-winded question. Those were her least favorite. At least the short ones you could get rid of quickly. “See, I live in just a regular house. I mean, in a neighborhood with just houses all around?”
“Yes?” Lisa prompted. She didn’t understand what Missa meant.
“I mean, no barns or farms or anything. The library’s on the corner—”
“We understand now,” Carole cut in.
“Okay, so one morning this fall, it was on a Saturday, and I woke up really early ’cause I didn’t have to go to school, and I looked out my window to the backyard, and there was a horse! So what should you do if you wake up and find a horse in your backyard?”
“Roll over and try to wake up again,” Carole said. “Clearly you’re still sleeping. I’ve had that dream a hundred times.”
“But I’m serious!” said Missa. “It was standing right by my gym set.”
“If it was fall, then it wasn’t Christmas,” said Lisa. “So was it your birthday?”
“Maybe you should start leaving carrots in your backyard,” Carole suggested flippantly. “Like for the Easter Bunny. Maybe what you saw was the Thanksgiving Pony.”
“But it was a
horse
,” said Missa. “I saw it. I tried to catch it, but it ran away. I think it needed help.”
“Whoa, look at the time!” Lisa said, disconnecting the phone. “Thanks for calling! We’re
Horse Talk
, and believe it or not, we’ll be back next week!” She cued their exit music and slumped her head to the desktop. “Oh, yuck,” she said. “What a horrid afternoon.”
Carole took off her headset and ran her fingers through her hair. “I think that was the longest hour of my entire life. Did you hear some of the things I said?”
“Did you hear some of the things the callers said?” Lisa asked with a groan. “We’re never going to live this down.”
“Guys,” Stevie said. “That last call … What if it wasn’t a joke? What if it was real?”
T HE S ADDLE C LUB packed the radio gear back into the boxes they kept it in and stacked them neatly in the corner of the tack room.
“I bet it wasn’t real,” Lisa said. “I hope it wasn’t.”
“Let’s ask Max,” suggested Carole. They walked to Max’s office. Max was sitting in his desk chair surrounded by a group of younger riders, who were sitting on the floor. They were all cleaning tack, and all had obviously been
“Thanks,” Lisa whispered as she disconnected. Chad had started this whole mess. Was he feeling guilty?
The phone rang. “We’re
Horse Talk
, and you’re on the air!” Lisa said with renewed enthusiasm. Whatever Chad’s motives, it was nice to have answered one real question.
“Hi,” said the caller. “I took a pony ride at the zoo several years ago, and I have to say I didn’t think it felt like work at all. I mean, I just sat there. I didn’t notice any particular stink, either.”
Carole rolled her eyes at Lisa. “Is that your question?” she asked.
“Oh, no,” said the caller. “I’ve been listening to everybody talk about squirrels, and I was thinking, really, horses are a lot more like cows than they are like squirrels. So why don’t people ride cows? Have you ever ridden a cow? And do you think cows could climb trees?”
S LOWLY THE HANDS of the clock dragged themselves toward five. The stupid questions rolled in as inexorably as a morning fog. Lisa felt utterly drained. “One more question,” she mouthed to Carole, who nodded.
“Hi,” said a voice that sounded like a very young girl. “Am I really on the radio?”
Lisa sighed. Another joke call. “Yes, you really are,” she said. “Welcome to
Horse Talk
. What’s your name?”
“Melissa,” said the girl, “but everybody calls me Missa.”
“Hi, Missa,” Carole chimed in. “What can we help you with?”
“Well, see—” Missi began. Lisa sighed again. Another long-winded question. Those were her least favorite. At least the short ones you could get rid of quickly. “See, I live in just a regular house. I mean, in a neighborhood with just houses all around?”
“Yes?” Lisa prompted. She didn’t understand what Missa meant.
“I mean, no barns or farms or anything. The library’s on the corner—”
“We understand now,” Carole cut in.
“Okay, so one morning this fall, it was on a Saturday, and I woke up really early ’cause I didn’t have to go to school, and I looked out my window to the backyard, and there was a horse! So what should you do if you wake up and find a horse in your backyard?”
“Roll over and try to wake up again,” Carole said. “Clearly you’re still sleeping. I’ve had that dream a hundred times.”
“But I’m serious!” said Missa. “It was standing right by my gym set.”
“If it was fall, then it wasn’t Christmas,” said Lisa. “So was it your birthday?”
“Maybe you should start leaving carrots in your backyard,” Carole suggested flippantly. “Like for the Easter Bunny. Maybe what you saw was the Thanksgiving Pony.”
“But it was a
horse
,” said Missa. “I saw it. I tried to catch it, but it ran away. I think it needed help.”
“Whoa, look at the time!” Lisa said, disconnecting the phone. “Thanks for calling! We’re
Horse Talk
, and believe it or not, we’ll be back next week!” She cued their exit music and slumped her head to the desktop. “Oh, yuck,” she said. “What a horrid afternoon.”
Carole took off her headset and ran her fingers through her hair. “I think that was the longest hour of my entire life. Did you hear some of the things I said?”
“Did you hear some of the things the callers said?” Lisa asked with a groan. “We’re never going to live this down.”
“Guys,” Stevie said. “That last call … What if it wasn’t a joke? What if it was real?”
T HE S ADDLE C LUB packed the radio gear back into the boxes they kept it in and stacked them neatly in the corner of the tack room.
“I bet it wasn’t real,” Lisa said. “I hope it wasn’t.”
“Let’s ask Max,” suggested Carole. They walked to Max’s office. Max was sitting in his desk chair surrounded by a group of younger riders, who were sitting on the floor. They were all cleaning tack, and all had obviously been
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