sat next to him in—”
I escaped to the barn, where I fed Towaco and Nickers. As soon as Nickers finished her grain, I led her to the paddock. I had a half hour before school. “Let’s try that bow, girl.”
I used every trick Ramon had shown me—pressure to the halter, holding a handful of oats where I wanted her to lower her head, tickling in a different spot. But nothing worked. Nickers had no desire to bow. Maybe it just wasn’t my day.
“Winnie!” Lizzy’s shout reached the paddock.
I kissed Nickers good-bye and walked to the yard, but I didn’t see my sister until she dropped from the branches of an oak tree. She had a lizard in each hand—Larry, her fence lizard, and one I didn’t recognize. Lizzy had built two homes for her lizard menagerie—one in a tree, and one underground.
“Go tell Dad good-bye!” she commanded.
I trudged inside and found Dad straightening his skinny black tie in the hall mirror. “How do I look, Winnie?”
“Okay.” I gazed at his image in the mirror as if he were a stranger. Tall, dark, probably even handsome, for a parent. I wanted to beg him to please, please not go. To tell him I’d do anything if he just wouldn’t get on that airplane, if he wouldn’t leave, if he’d stay for Mom’s birthday.
But it wouldn’t have done any good. “Bye, Dad.”
Dad turned and hugged me awkwardly.
I let him.
Then I biked to school.
Barker rode up as I was jiggling my bike into the rack. “Winnie!” Barker has the best smile, but even it couldn’t get me to smile back. “How’s Nickers? You’re going to love being a circus greeter!”
“Ramon’s helping me with the bow.” I waited for Barker while he did his bike lock. I didn’t have one. People don’t steal backward bikes.
“The Colonel said my brothers could be butchers in the Ashland Circus. That’s what they call people who sell junk at intermission. Maybe Lizzy would like to do it too.”
As usual, a group of the popular kids stood outside, blocking the middle school entrance. Students and their cliques aren’t that different from the Mustang herds Mom and I got to observe one summer. Horses in one herd stick together, almost never letting a strange horse in.
Summer Spidell reigned as queen of the popular “herd” at our school. I glanced at her, flanked by the two most popular boys in school, Grant and Brian. Summer wore designer jeans that looked as different from my jeans as a formal from a nightgown. Grant Baines was okay for a popular kid. I’d worked with his problem Quarter Horse.
Salena, a.k.a. Sal, waved at me with no-finger black gloves. Her red hair had a black streak in it, and I could see her fake lashes from yards away. She’s okay though.
Hawk—Victoria Hawkins to her popular friends—came down the steps to meet Barker and me. Before I helped her with her horse, Towaco, Hawk used to act like she didn’t know me at school. We have a funny relationship, but I think of her as a friend.
“I hear you are in the circus, Barker.” Hawk wore leather pants and a matching jacket, black like her long, straight hair. I’m not sure what percentage American Indian she is.
“You should sign on as a greeter, like Winnie did.” Barker turned to me.
I felt bad. I should have called Hawk about the circus. But I hate the phone. It’s hard enough to talk to people when you can see their reactions. “We’ll get Catman to ask the Colonel,” I said. “You and Towaco would be great! We could have fun, Hawk.”
She glanced over her shoulder at her friends. “Maybe not.”
We were quiet for a minute.
“Victoria!” Summer shouted from the steps. “You have to hear this!”
“See you,” Hawk said, trotting back to her herd.
I started up the steps, with Barker behind me.
“Why would he wear that ridiculous costume?” Summer was saying between giggles. “Besides, have you ever heard of an African-American clown? I didn’t think they liked to paint their faces.”
I shouldn’t