The Perfect Distance

Whitney, Kim Ablon

ISBN 10: 0375932437 ISBN 13: 9780375932434

Verlag: Alfred a Knopf Inc, 2005

Having spent years riding, working hard to afford the best trainers in the country, and preparing for her last attempt at winning the Maclay finals, seventeen-year-old Francie is ready to take on the challenge, but when a matter outside of her competitive world throws her into turmoil, Francie must rethink what really matters to her.

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�ber die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Kim Ablon Whitney is a full-time writer and part-time horse show judge who recently received her Masters of Fine Arts in creative writing from Emerson College. She lives with her husband, son, and greyhound in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

From the Hardcover edition.

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Chapter One

"No! No! No! What did I say about making a move at the last minute?"

Rob's voice was so loud, I could hear him all the way up at the barn--over a football field's length away. What I couldn't hear was the response from whoever he was yelling at. I hoped it wasn't Katie.

I led Tobey out of the barn and up to the mounting block. Behind me, my dad gave Gwenn a leg up onto Finch. "Thanks, Juan," she said. Even though I'd heard all the riders call my dad by his first name a million times before, it still sounded strange.

As I swung my leg over the saddle, my stomach started to tie up in knots. It was the first day of boot camp, which was what we dubbed the weeks of training before the three junior national equitation championships--the United States Equestrian Team Finals, the United States Equestrian Federation Medal Finals, and the ASPCA Maclay Finals, or just "the finals," as they were collectively known. This was when Rob got tough--tougher than usual, that is.

Tobey, eager to leave the flies of the stable behind, swished his tail and stomped a front hoof as I tightened the girth. "Hold on," I told him. "We're going." Tobey didn't like the girth too tight at first around his belly, so I always tightened it more once I mounted up. I'd learned this the hard way: one of the first times I'd ridden him, I tightened it all the way and hopped on only to have him buck me right off.

I gathered my reins, and Gwenn and I headed down to the indoor arena. West Hills was set on a hill, with the main barn and two outdoor rings on top and the indoor arena and half-mile galloping track down below. With all the buildings and the manicured grounds, the farm was its own little compound, like a mini-college campus.

"Have a good lesson, girls," Dad called after us.

The door to the arena yawned open, but we didn't go in yet. That was rule number one of riding at West Hills: Wait until Rob tells you to. And it applied to most everything.

Rob had left the sliding door open because the September sun was beating down on the metal roof, heating the indoor like a sauna. But since two out of three of the finals took place indoors, we practiced inside no matter how hot it was. Rob stood in the middle as Katie cantered a circle around him.

Rob stood five foot ten, had rusty brown hair, and was a little on the beefy side. He had great posture--he never slouched or slumped. No one knew his age for sure, but we guessed that he was around forty-five. If you saw him on the street, you probably wouldn't think much of him, but in the horse show world he was basically God. He was the riding world's equivalent of tennis's Nick Bollettieri or gymnastics' Bela Karolyi, and parents sent their kids from all over the country and paid a fortune for them to train with him. He was notorious for being tough on his riders, but as much as we griped about him, we all knew it was worth it because he was the best.

"How did that feel?" he asked Katie in a deceptively moderate tone. A tone I knew all too well.

Katie answered softly, "Not so good, I guess." Knowing what was coming next, I cringed for her and for how many times I'd been in her situation.

Suddenly Rob's voice boomed again. "Jesus Christ, Katie, have some conviction! Speak up! It was lousy. You were completely out of control." Rob paused. The worst was hopefully over--once he'd exploded, he usually calmed down. He continued in a saner tone, "The course is all parts that make up a whole. You have to ride it in parts and put the parts together. You got going and didn't stop to take a breath or collect your horse the whole way around. Again. And this time, for God's sake, get it right."

Katie cantered off the circle to start over. Her face muscles were tensed, like she was trying to hold it all together. I watched in silence, thinking: Please don't mess up. Because the more upset Rob got now, the tougher he would be on me. But also because Katie was my best friend at the barn and probably my best friend, period. If we hadn't met at the barn, I'm sure we never would have been friends. Other than riding, we really didn't have much in common. But horses had brought us together, and we'd found that even though we were from completely different backgrounds, we got along well.

Stretch's nostrils flared with each stride and he expelled the air in forceful snorts. His neck glistened with sweat, and where the reins rubbed against him was white with foam.

All in all, Katie was a pretty bad rider, but she got away with a fair amount because of Stretch. Stretch had won the finals a record five times and was Rob's best horse. He was pure white and was so easy anyone could ride him. In fact, Stretch would probably jump a course with a monkey on his back. When you jump, you have to tell your horse where to take off from. The correct spot to take off from--not too close to the jump and not too far away--is called the right "distance." If you're good at judging the distances and telling your horse where to take off from, people say you have a "good eye." Katie had what people called "no eye." Luckily for her, Stretch had a good eye of his own, and even when Katie didn't see the perfect distance, a lot of the time Stretch did. He was also known for being able to make a really long distance look good--hence the name Stretch.

Katie's father was a big-time New York City litigator, and he paid six figures a year to lease Stretch. The riders leased a horse from Rob or owned their own, except for me, that is. I rode whatever Rob gave me. For the past three years that had been Tobey.

This time Katie managed the course without any major faults. She kept cantering after the last fence because that was rule number one-A: You're not done until Rob says you're done.

"Okay, let him walk," Rob said. "Good enough . . . for today."

Katie barely had to tug on the reins and Stretch dropped back to a walk.

"The one thing I want you to think about is being subtle," Rob told her. "When you see the distance, don't make a big move for it. The judges never want to see that big move. Understand?"

"Yes," Katie said. "Thank you, Rob. Thanks a lot." Rule number two: Always say please and thank you. The rules weren't printed up and handed to you when you arrived at West Hills, but if you had any sense at all, you learned them quickly.

Rob turned to Gwenn and me. "Come on in, girls."

I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the butterflies attacking my stomach. After all, I had lived through boot camp and the finals plenty of times before. But it didn't matter. I could do the finals a hundred times and I'd still be fighting my nerves the whole way through. And at seventeen, this was my last chance.

Gwenn had headed into the ring. I realized I hadn't budged.

"Francie?" Rob said. "Would you like to grace us with your presence?"

Here goes everything, I thought, and pressed Tobey forward into the ring.

Chapter Two

As I walked Tobey into the indoor, Katie and Tara were on their way out. Katie's face was sweaty, and she was still breathing hard. Tara, on the other hand, was perched tall in the saddle, not slouching at all. Apparently her lesson had gone a lot better than Katie's, which was no big surprise since Tara was the best rider in the barn.

Katie stopped Stretch for a second to talk to me. "Watch out," she warned. "Rob's in the worst mood."

"Not if you ride well," Tara snapped as she passed us. Besides being the best rider, she also happened to have the biggest attitude.

Katie rolled her...

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Verlag: Alfred a Knopf Inc
Erscheinungsdatum: 2005
Sprache: Englisch
ISBN 10: 0375932437
ISBN 13: 9780375932434
Einband: Bibliothekseinband
Anzahl der Seiten: 246
Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verf�gbar
Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verf�gbar

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