Horse Talk Read Online Free PDF Page A

equipment, so Janey’s casual comment was broadcast to the world. “H-Hello, caller,” Lisa stammered, in what she hoped was a very professional tone. “How may we help you?”
    Inside Max’s living room, Stevie grabbed Janey’s shoulder and shook it. “You’re not supposed to know them,” she whispered.
    Janey looked confused. “But I do know them,” she said. She still held the receiver next to her chin, and Stevie knew that the radio audience could hear every word.
    “Ask them a question,” she whispered.
    “But I don’t have a question,” Janey whispered back.
    Finally, Lisa figured out how to handle Janey’s call: She hung up the phone. “Whoops, we got cut off,” she said cheerfully. “Remember, we’re
Horse Talk
, and our phone number is 555–8151.”
    Janey rubbed her shoulder where Stevie had grabbed her. “They hung up,” she said, sounding hurt.
    Stevie took the phone away from her. “It’s a good thing!” she said. “Why did you act like you knew them? This is supposed to be a radio show! You’re supposed to be asking them for advice!”
    Janey drew her eyebrows together and pushed out her lower lip. “You didn’t tell me,” she said. “You said, ‘Help me make a phone call,’ and I did.” She turned and stalked out of Max’s house.
    Stevie sighed in exasperation. Nothing was going right. With a growing sense of desperation, she picked up the phone and redialed.
    Brrrnng!
Carole’s and Lisa’s hands collided in the air over the Answer button. “Another question!” Lisa chirped, gesturing for Carole to answer it. “I guess we’ll resume our discussion about the colors of horses some other time.”
    “
Horse Talk
!” Carole said. “How may we help you?”
    “Uhhh …,” the caller said. “Um, could you tell me what color a palomino is?”
    Carole looked at Lisa, who nodded. They’d heard that voice on their phones at home a hundred times in the past three months alone. It was Stevie. And Stevie must not be anywhere near a radio, because Carole had actually just discussed palomino horses thirty seconds before.
    “Okay,” Carole said, trying hard to sound cheerful and helpful, “I’ll go over that again. A palomino is a golden-haired horse. A blond.”
    “Thank you,” Stevie said, and hung up. Carole hit the button to hang up, but she wished Stevie had stayed on the line. What would they talk about now?
    “We’re
Horse Talk
,” Lisa said. “555–8151.” The phone rang again, and Lisa jabbed the button in relief.
    “Hi,” said the caller. It was Stevie again. “I take riding lessons, and I’m having a little trouble when Ijump fences. My body comes too far out of the saddle. Any advice?”
    “Sure,” Carole said. “You could try gymnastic exercises.”
    “Remember to wait for the horse,” Lisa added. “Let him jump; don’t try to jump the fence for him.”
    “Thanks,” Stevie said. Lisa hung up. The phone rang again immediately, and it was Stevie asking whether polo wraps or shin boots were better protection for open jumpers.
    That was the way the rest of the show went. After every call, Lisa hung up, the phone rang again immediately, and it was always Stevie. At some point she must have found a Pony Club manual in Max and Deborah’s living room, because the questions she asked became more like a Pony Club examination: “What are the four natural aids?” “When you are jumping, should your stirrups be longer or shorter than when you are not?” “How often do horses require vaccinations?” Fortunately, all this was material Carole could rattle off with ease. Unfortunately, every question and answer took less than a minute, so Stevie had to come up with a lot of questions.
    The minute hand on the clock slowly dragged its way back to the top of the hour. Lisa felt as though all her life force had been drained from her. Every time the phone rang, she hoped that it would finally be areal, non-Stevie question, and every time she heard