Team Play (10 page)

“She’ll win in a walk,” Carole told herself.

“
Buon giorno!
” the four Italian boys greeted Carole from their pony carts. They looked wonderful. They were each wearing their formal riding clothes, which gave the little carts an official look. Since Carole had been relieved of her responsibilities at the cash box, she decided to join an activity more to her liking—namely, horses.

“Come on over this way,” Carole called. She walked ahead of the carts and found a place for the boys to park them in the shade. As soon as the carts pulled to a halt, kids began appearing from the hospital.

Some were in pajamas and robes, and some were in jeans. A few of them were actually dressed up. There were three kids with crutches, five in wheelchairs and one lying flat on her back on a gurney. The kids who could walk best were pushing wheelchairs for those who couldn’t. Some people might have thought that the one thing these kids had in common was that they were all sick. When Carole looked at them, she saw that what they all had in common was that they loved the ponies.

“What’s his name?”

“Can I pat him?”

“Will he bite me?”

“Does he go fast?”

“Does he really like carrots?”

They had lots of questions and Carole sensed that all of them were eager to have a chance to ride in the carts and hug the ponies.

“I think we’re going to have to get to work here, boys,” Carole told Enrico, Marco, Andre, and Gian. With that, they looked to see how they were going to load the kids into the pony carts under the supervision of Miss Bellanger, who had come to help.

It was a tricky business. The carts hadn’t been designed with wheelchairs, casts, and crutches in mind. Carole found a way to do it all with the help of her Italian crew. They fashioned a ramp from some boards to make it easier for the kids to get into the carts. The kids
were both eager and patient. Carole found that their patience was rewarded. Looking at their faces, she knew that it didn’t matter what problems the kids were taking up the ramp with them. Those problems were all left behind once they were strapped into the cart. For once, they were just children, having fun in a pony cart.

The Italian boys were having a blast, too. Each cart had one Italian equestrian champion with the reins in his hand and another walking ahead of the cart, leading the way. The children loved their glamorous outfits and their formal manner. They even loved their Italian accents.

“Hey, can you sing
Santa Lucia
?” one of the children asked. “We learned it in school last year when we were studying Marco Polo and Venice. Don’t all the gondoliers in Venice sing
Santa Lucia
all the time?”

Marco grinned. Clearly, he enjoyed challenges. “All the time,” he assured the boy. “And since my name is also Marco, you know I must be from Venice—” Carole knew this was a fib. Marco was actually from Florence. “—so my friends and I will sing for you,” Marco finished.

At once, all four of the Italian boys began singing
Santa Lucia
. It took them a while to pick a key they all liked and two of them didn’t seem very familiar with the words, but a couple of the children knew them in English and joined along.

“What’s going on over here?” Stevie asked Carole,
drawn to the course by the strange, more or less musical, sounds. “Did somebody’s dog get sick?”

“Oh, no, it’s just our Italian guests, being pony cart singers, or something like that,” Carole said.

Stevie stood by her and watched for a few minutes. Seeing the children smile and sing and enjoy themselves made her feel warm and happy inside. Carole put her arm across Stevie’s shoulder and gave her a hug. “You’re a miracle worker, you know,” she said.

“It’s not me,” Stevie said. “It’s them.” She gestured toward the carts as they circled the field.

“Do you mean the ponies, the carts, the children, or the Italian boys?” Carole asked.

“All of it,” Stevie said.

Carole thought she was right.

“T
HE CHILDREN ARE
having a wonderful time, aren’t they?” Kate asked Stevie.

“Yes, and so are our Italian visitors,” she said. “It’s great to listen to them. But I think the most fun of all is about to come. Has Christine finished the sign?”

“Yes. They put it up about five minutes ago. Look, there’s already a line by the cash box,” Kate pointed out.

Stevie grinned wickedly. “This is a dream come true.”

And at that moment, the fair’s star attraction arrived.

“Good morning, Stevie,” Veronica said. “Where are our foreign guests?” she asked, eagerly turning her head.

“Over there, with the pony carts,” Stevie replied.

“You have them working again?” Veronica asked.

“Well, Veronica, they were so inspired by your devotion to the cause of the children and the school that
they just insisted on helping out,” Stevie said smoothly.

“Oh. Well, I guess I’m ready. Where’s Booth Thirteen?” Veronica wanted to know.

“This way,” Stevie said. This was a tricky moment. She had to make it impossible for Veronica to back out and the only way she could do that was to make it more embarrassing for her to leave than to stay. “Hey, everybody!” Stevie announced. “Veronica’s here! She’s our star attraction and will definitely be our biggest money-maker.”

The students gathered around. As if somebody had cued them, they cheered. Veronica smiled graciously.

“You know, Veronica,” Stevie continued. “Last year the fair made almost a thousand dollars. This year, our goal is to make even more. We’re hoping for fifteen hundred dollars. With your help, I know we can do it.”

“Me? I’m just trying to pitch in, Stevie,” Veronica said, doing a poor job of acting humble. It was done. Stevie had cornered her.

“Well, here’s your booth,” Stevie said, taking Veronica by the elbow. “Lucky Number Thirteen!”

And there it was. Stevie couldn’t keep her eyes off Veronica as she read the sign.

SOGGY NERF BALL TOSS
Throw a soggy Nerf ball!
Hit Veronica diAngelo!
Win prizes!
Three Throws for One Ticket!

There was a bucket of water and a case of Nerf balls at the front counter. At the back of the booth was a lone seat where Veronica would serve as a target.

Behind them, Stevie and Veronica heard kids clamoring for their turn.

“I’m first!”

“No, me! I’ve been waiting longer!”

“Let me have a try!”

It seemed that everybody who knew Veronica wanted a shot at her.

Veronica glared at Stevie. For the second time in as many days, she appeared to be speechless.

“I’m telling you, Veronica. A long line formed for tickets the minute the sign went up. You, and you alone, are going to put us over fifteen hundred dollars,” Stevie said.

“Stevie, they’ll hit me and get me wet,” Veronica hissed.

“Don’t worry,” Stevie assured her. “Most of these kids don’t have good aim. And, after all, a lot of them are going to be, er—what did you call them?—the ‘little crippled children’ from the hospital. They probably won’t get anywhere near you.”

“I’m going to do this, you know,” Veronica said. “And then I will never speak to you again.”

That was exactly what Stevie had been hoping for.

•    •    •

S
OON AFTER
B
OOTH
Thirteen opened up for business, all the other booths opened as well. The fair began at eleven o’clock and by eleven-thirty, the entire fairground was bustling with activity. Stevie checked all the booths. They had found the wooden rings which had been missing earlier at the ring-toss. The Magic Wishing Tree had all its prize claims stapled on correctly. The fortune teller had polished her crystal ball and memorized her list of “fortunes.” The bowling alley had set up all ten pins, instead of the six somebody had put up by mistake. The red and white decorations looked bright and cheerful. Everywhere Stevie went, her schoolmates, riding friends, and the children from the hospital were having a wonderful time. The loudest cheering noises came from Booth Thirteen and from the pony cart track.

Stevie found herself standing under a tree in the middle of the fairground, soaking it all in. She closed her eyes and listened. Everywhere, there were sounds of success. People were having fun. The fair was making money for the school. She’d done it. She had actually pulled off everything she’d been assigned to do—almost.

The things that hadn’t been accomplished yet were the campaign speeches and debates and the Italian boys’ riding demonstration. It was too bad that she was going to have to miss that demonstration in the afternoon, but there was no way she could leave the fairground until the fair was finished and cleaned up. She’d get a chance
to see their performance the next day at Pine Hollow.

Now, there was only one thing she wanted to make the day complete.

“Hi there, beautiful.”

The one thing she wanted had appeared. Phil Marston had arrived.

“You think flattery will get you anywhere!” she said, pretending to be annoyed.

“Not really,” Phil said. “I’m just hoping that if I make a big play for the person incharge of this event, it might get me to the head of the line at Booth Thirteen. You wouldn’t happen to be responsible for that wonderful idea, would you?”

“Me?” Stevie asked innocently.

Phil laughed and gave her a hug. “So, what can I do?” he asked.

“Hmmmm,” Stevie said thoughtfully. “You know, I’ve been meaning to try the ring-toss. Let’s get some tickets and see who’s better.”

“Okay,” Phil agreed. “The winner gets to serve as pitching coach over at Booth Thirteen!”

“You’re on!”

“H
I
. W
HAT
’
S YOUR
name?” Carole asked. She was speaking to the girl about her own age who was on the gurney by the pony carts.

“Marie,” the girl responded glumly.

“I don’t know if we can get this rig into a cart safely,” Carole began.

“You can’t,” Marie said.
She’s probably right
, Carole thought, but there was something about Marie’s tone of voice that bothered her. Carole felt as if somebody had just slammed a door in her face. And somehow, Carole didn’t believe that Marie’s situation was that hopeless.

“What are you in for?” Carole asked.

Marie seemed a little irritated. “I have a fractured pelvis,” she said. “And in case that’s not enough, both my legs are broken, too. Don’t ask if you can sign my cast, okay? It’s not funny.”

“I didn’t say it was,” Carole retorted. She decided to try again. “Would you like to pat one of the ponies?” she asked.

“No.”

“So how come you’re here?” Carole asked.

“Because Miss Bellanger said it would make me feel better.”

“You’re going to make this very hard, aren’t you?” Carole asked. It was only after she’d said it that Carole realized how harsh she sounded.

But it worked. “I’m sorry,” Marie said. “Miss Bellanger tells me I have a way of taking my anger out on everybody else. I know you’re just trying to be nice, but, believe me, it doesn’t really help.”

“That’s fair.” Carole nodded. “Listen, I’ve got to help
the next batch of kids into the cart. Would you like me to ask Miss Bellanger to take you back inside now?”

Marie was quiet for a moment. She seemed to be thinking over Carole’s offer. “No, thanks,” she said. “I’ll stick around.”

“Okay,” Carole said and turned her attention to the others. She didn’t want to let one person who was determined to be miserable ruin the day for the others.

“My turn! My turn!” said a little boy. Marco picked him up and put him into the pony cart. Once the boy was strapped in, he knew exactly what to tell his driver: “
Andiamo!
” The cart lurched forward and the singing began once again.

S
PLAT
! S
QUISH
! T
HUMP
!

“Oh, no, I missed.”

“Here, try again. Aim higher this time!”

“You’re not allowed to duck!” someone called to Veronica.

“I am too!” she yelled.

The action at Booth Thirteen was never-ending and Stevie enjoyed every minute of it. She went on an inspection of the other booths. She helped restock the food booth with popcorn and candy apples. She took over temporarily at the balloon dartboard when the student working there needed to take a break. She solved problems, she gave directions, and she answered questions.

She watched as Carole and the Italian boys kept the pony carts going. The shrieks of laughter from that section of the fair were delightful. It was nice to have some of the hospital patients participating in their school fair. Somehow, everything was working.

Stevie wandered over to the table where tickets were being sold.

“How are sales?” she asked.

“Brisk,” came the answer from one of the student cashiers.

“Oh, yes. You’ve done a wonderful job here,” said the other cashier. It was Bobby Effingwell, Stevie’s opponent in the school election. “You know, you surprised me,” Bobby said. “When somebody told me I’d be running against you, I thought it would be easy. Nobody could believe that Stevie Lake could actually do something serious or take on a lot of responsibility. But you’ve proven me wrong, Stevie. I think you’ll probably win the election, and that’s great. You deserve it. I just want you to promise me one thing.”