Gee Whiz Read Free Page B

Beebop—if he could kick that high when he was bucking a rider off, how high would he kick to show the other geldings that he was the boss? But Danny and Jerry seemed utterly relaxed. They talked about a movie that was out—
Fahrenheit 451
. Jerry had read the book. I kept eating. Danny had read the book, too. I nearly choked. I said, “What’s it about?”
    Jerry ate half a piece of bacon. “Well, you know, four hundred fifty-one degrees Fahrenheit is the temperature at which paper burns. It’s about a future time when books are against the law, and if they find you with a book, the firemen burn it.”
    I turned to Danny. “You read it?”
    “I liked it.”
    I must have looked like I didn’t believe him, because he said to Jerry, “Abby doesn’t think I know how to read.”
    I said, “What’s another book you’ve read?”
    I thought he would say something like
The Black Stallion
, but he said, “I read
A Farewell to Arms
.”
    Jerry said, “That’s a good one.”
    I didn’t believe him, though. “Why did you read that?”
    “I found it on a shelf where I’m living, and there wasn’t anything else to do, so I read it.” He stared at me, then sniffed. “I liked it.” Then he said, “You should read it.”
    The phone rang, and I went into the living room to get it. It was Jane, who was canceling my lessons for the day. She said, “Oh, Abby, I tried to call you last night to tell you that Melinda is down in LA for the weekend, staying with her father, and now Ellen’s mom just called and said that Ellen has a hundred-and-three-degree temperature, which she only knows because Ellen started sweating and panting at the breakfast table. She’s been sick for two days, but keeping it from her mother so that she could have her lesson. That girl! I’ve never seen anyone like her.”
    “I’ll give her an extra one over Christmas vacation.”
    “I’ll tell her that.”
    I wasn’t terribly sorry not to be going to the stables. I could get my riding done and have the afternoon to myself.
    Then we went out to the horses. They were hungry, since we were about half an hour late (horses always know what time it is where hay is concerned). This was part of the plan, because we wanted them to pay more attention to breakfast than to one another. Beebop knew what time it was, too—he was pawing the floor of his stall. When the four geldings were eating (and the mares, of course), Jerry got him out and took him through the gate of the gelding pasture, then led him to one of the open piles. He started to eat. Lincoln looked at him. Blue looked at him. Marcus looked at him. Jack looked at him. He did not look at them. After maybe fifteen minutes,everyone shifted piles, Lincoln first. It was Blue who moved in on Beebop’s pile, but Beebop just walked over to another one and continued to eat. We watched them for half an hour, then checked on them several more times. Uneventful. When Jack came over after finishing his hay and pranced around, looking for a playmate, Beebop put his ears back. Jack paused, then trotted away, message received. Danny said, “I think they’ll be okay.”
    Jerry said, “Beebop has no problem with other horses.”

Chapter 2
    T HE NEXT DAY WAS RAINY AND COLD , AND ONLY A FEW PEOPLE showed up for church—the Hollingsworths, of course, and the Brookses. Brother Abner did not show up—I couldn’t remember the last time he’d stayed away. Carlie Hollingsworth and I should have been best friends. We’d known each other our whole lives, we were the same age, and we had done things together at church like babysitting and setting out and clearing up the suppers, but either she thought I was too familiar to be interesting, or I thought that of her. We didn’t even try to be friends. Maybe Brother Abner was my best friend at church. He was like a grandfather or a great-uncle, but an unpredictable one, not a sour one. He sometimes told me stories of his boyhood, which had taken place in upstate