Horse Talk by Bonnie Bryant Read Free Book Online

“Let’s go,” she said. “By my watch, I ought to be heading for Max’s home phone already. Look—I brought my boom box today. I’ll be listening to the show from Max’s living room, so I’ll know what’s happening even when I’m not on the phone.”
    They found Lisa hurrying Max out of the tack room. “I just need to find Barq’s bridle—” Max was saying.
    “Do it later!” Lisa said firmly. “Shoo!”
    Carole felt her stomach flop and wondered how Lisa could be so calm.
    “Two minutes,” Lisa said. Carole nodded, and they took their places behind the table. Lisa took a deep breath and flipped the switch that would start the broadcast.
    “Good afternoon, Willow Creek!” Carole said. “We’re coming to you live from Pine Hollow. We’re
Horse Talk
!” She recited the phone number. Exactly on cue, the phone rang.
    “
Horse Talk
,” said Lisa. “You’re on the air.”
    “My name is Janet,” said Stevie.
    “Hello, Janet,” Carole said. “How may we help you?”
    “Well, I’m afraid my horse might have been mistreated by his previous owner …”
    T HE FIRST QUESTION went smoothly. Best of all, Lisa thought as she hung up the phone, it took nearly sixminutes to answer. At that rate, leaving time for advertisements and station identification, they would only need eight questions an hour. Lisa read a short script about the school’s radio project and played the first set of advertisements. Just as the tape finished, the phone rang again. It was Stevie, as Patricia, with prepared question number two. Carole answered it smoothly, and Lisa cut in with a short joke. All three of them laughed on cue.
    Lisa hung up and repeated the phone number for the listening audience. The phone rang again, and Carole answered it. “
Horse Talk
! How may we help you?”
    “My name is Augusta,” said Stevie.
    “Hello, Augusta!” said Carole and Lisa.
    “I was wondering …”
    T HE SHOW PROGRESSED to the final fifteen minutes. Lisa eyed the clock with relief.
Horse Talk
was going fine, just as they had planned, but it had taken an awful lot of preparation, and she was tired. Carole looked strained.
Only two questions left to go
, Lisa wrote on a piece of paper. Carole nodded and smiled.
    The phone rang again. “
Horse Talk
! How may we help you?”
    “This is Roosevelt Franklin Godfreys the Third,” announced an unfamiliar voice that was certainly not Stevie’s.
    Lisa waited for the caller to say more, but he didn’t. “Uhh—Roosevelt Franklin what?”
    “Godfreys the Third,” replied the voice. “You can call me Rosie.”
    Carole recovered enough to say, “How can we help you, Rosie?” Lisa slapped her hand over her mouth to stop a giggle.
Rosie
?
    “Well,” drawled the caller, “you see, I have a horse. It’s a very nice horse, but it’s had several owners in the past. First when it was a baby it was owned by some very nice folks in Ohio. Then they sold it to a woman in Kentucky, and then I believe—but I’m not positive—that it came to Virginia, but not around here. I think it lived in Roanoke first, then Manassas, and finally it ended up with me. Or so I believe.”
    Lisa looked at Carole, who looked back. What was this about? “Go ahead,” Lisa said into the microphone.
    “Well,” said Roosevelt Franklin Godfreys the Third, “the problem is, each owner messed up a different part of the horse. The first person made it inclined to kick with its back left foot only, but never from farther away than six feet. The second owner made it kick with the front right foot as well; the third owner made it tend to shimmy its hips; and the fourth cut my horse’s tail off way too short. As a result of all this, my horse looks like a buzz-cut jitterbugging clog dancer, and I want to do dressage. What do you think I should do?”
    “Uh,” said Carole. She was pretty sure this was a joke, not a serious question, but what could she do? She was on the air. “Let its tail grow long,” she said