Cora's
muscles trembled as she pushed her pedals the final mile to Becky’s mustard yellow house. She skidded to a stop on the
pebbled driveway, dropped her bike with a clang and strode up the concrete steps that led to the front door. As she entered
the house, the rear tire of her cherry red mountain bike continued spinning. Fwet, fwet, fwet it complained as it lay on its
side.
“Becky,
I have awesome news,” Cora said bursting into Becky’s room.
Becky
dropped the silver controller and clasped her heart as she spun to face Cora.
“Mrs.
Gardener is selling Todd’s horse,” said Cora.
Becky
smiled and sat on her bed, “Really? Todd loved that old chestnut gelding. Poor Mrs. Gardener.”
“Yeah,”
nodded Cora, “It’s been more than a year since the accident though. I wonder how Mrs. Gardener has been able to
look after a horse by herself.
Becky’s
eyes widened, “Oh right, what were you saying about Blaze?”
“Beck,
get this,” replied Cora, “my mom said I can buy him.”
“What?
That’s so cool! How did you talk your mom into it? When do you get him? Where will you keep him? You’re so lucky.
Can I ride him too?”
“Whoa,
Becky,” said Cora, “Actually, her exact words were ‘we can’t afford a horse, so unless you can pay
for him and all his expenses then the answer is no’. Becky, Blaze will be mine. I have a plan.”
The
next day on the bus, Cora cleared her throat and said, “Listen up.” Several kids stopped talking and turned to
face her. “Who wants a taste of the world’s best double-dipped chocolate coconut macaroon cookies?”
“Oh
me! Me! Please?” begged a boy with hands outstretched.
“Me
too!” called a freckled girl from fifth grade.
“Becky,
the samples,” said Cora.
Becky
began passing out bite-sized pieces of the cookies from Cora’s lunch box. She also gave each recipient a small piece
of paper that read:
Cora
Whitstone, Cookie Sales Entrepreneur
Cookies
$1.00 each
A
boy across the aisle asked, “What’s an entrepreneur?”
Cora
rolled her eyes, “A very intelligent person who starts up her own very successful business.” She
then handed out a sheet of paper and told the kids to write down their names and the number of cookies they were going to
buy the next day. Cora grinned when the paper returned to her full of names and cookie requests.
Just
before bedtime, Cora told her mom that she needed six dozen double-dipped chocolate coconut macaroon cookies for school the
next morning.
“You’re
kidding, right?” her mom replied, “Cora, you should have told me earlier. What are they for anyway?”
“Mom,
it’s for a very special school project,” said Cora, “I promised I’d bring them. Everyone’s counting
on me. Please make them, Mom.”
Cora’s
mom grabbed the chocolate squares from the cupboard and plunked them onto the counter, “I’ll do it, but I am not
happy.”
The
cookies were a hit with the bus kids. Cora and Becky resorted to auctioning the last cookie. It sold for a whopping four dollars
and twenty-five cents.
That
night Cora sheepishly asked her mom for twelve dozen more cookies for the “special project.” Her mom’s jaw
dropped and instead of making the cookies, she made a phone call to verify Cora’s story.
Not
only did Cora end up grounded, but she also had to give her mom all the cookie earnings to restock the cupboards and pay for
her mother’s time. Cora decided she needed a new plan. She was worried that Blaze might soon get sold to someone else.
At
school the next day, Cora began passing out papers again. This time they stated:
Cora
Whitstone, Emergency Homework Resource Entrepreneur
$1.00
per assignment for grades one through three.
$3.00
per assignment for grades four through six.
Within
five minutes Cora had a small stack of assignments to do. The next day her pile tripled in size. Cora had to stay up very
late to finish the homework.
On
day three, Cora was called into the principal’s office. She arrived to find several essays laid out on his desk.
“Cora,
these essays were handed in by five different students,” said the principal, “yet each one is exactly the same. I’d like an explanation.”
Being
grounded a second week gave Cora a lot of time to think. Cora knew that what she did was wrong, but she was desperate. She
even phoned Mrs. Gardener to make sure that Blaze was still available. Cora told Mrs. Gardener of her efforts to raise enough
money to buy Blaze. She also told her that the jobs weren’t quite working out as she hoped. She asked Mrs. Gardener
why Blaze was being sold.
“Blaze
seems so lonely,” came the reply, “with Todd gone, there’s no one here to ride him anymore.”
Cora
pleaded with Mrs. Gardener to make a promise not sell Blaze to anyone else. Mrs. Gardener was very polite but didn’t
make any promises.
The
day the grounding ended, Cora and Becky biked over to Mrs. Gardener’s acreage and handed Mrs. Gardener a piece of paper
that said:
Cora
Whitstone, Horse Assistant Entrepreneur
Will
muck out stalls, feed oats, hay, carrots, and apples
Do light household
chores and general yard work in exchange for riding Blaze.
Mrs.
Gardener read the paper and looked up at the girls with shiny, wet eyes, “Looking after Blaze is too big a job for me.
If only Todd were here…”
The
whoosh of a light breeze in the grass and the hum of a bee in the lilacs were the only distractions in the quiet that followed.
Cora
didn’t know what to say; she had never lost anyone she loved before. Becky shifted her stance and began picking at her
faded purple nail polish.
Mrs.
Gardener smiled as she looked from Becky and Cora to the field where Blaze was sauntering towards them at the pasture gate.
“Blaze is a special horse that needs a lot of attention. He is certainly enough work for two busy schoolgirls. I think
it would be a job worth sharing.” She gave the girls a wink.
Cora
and Becky both squealed and hugged Mrs. Gardener, thanking her over and over. In the excitement, Blaze’s eyes seemed
to brighten and he gave a hearty neigh. Mrs. Gardener stroked Blaze’s neck. Fresh tears streaked down Mrs. Gardener’s
cheeks.
“No,
it’s I who should be thanking you.”
The End
