No Small Thing Read Online Free Page A

Better to give him away to someone who will pay more attention to him.”
    “He’s green,” I say knowingly.
    The woman looks at me. She smiles, brushing a lock of silky blonde hair from her eyes. “Yes, I suppose that’s what you call it.”
    I guess I’m showing off a bit here but I can’t help it. Like I said before, we didn’t always live in town. We used to live in a big yellow house nicer than the daffodil. We practically grew up on horseback. “What’s his name?” I ask.
    “Smokey.”
    “Smokey.” Queenie repeats the name in a whisper.
    “He was all black when he was little,” the woman explains. “It seems kind of funny to call him that, now that he’s all white.”
    “I like it,” Queenie says.
    “Do you have a place to keep him?” the woman asks.
    Queenie looks at me. Cid stares at the ground. I look the woman in the face and do something I know is wrong. I lie. “Yes, ma’am, we do.”
    I know it’s not right to lie. Ma would be so disappointed if she knew. But I just couldn’t go home without that pony. Not now. Not after coming all this way. I couldn’t do that to Queenie.
    Cid doesn’t even protest like she normally would. That’s because she knows I have to lie in this case. And then the lie gets bigger. I tell the woman that our mom would have come with usbut she was busy working. She gave us permission to go ahead and get the pony ourselves. I tell her we would have borrowed a trailer from one of our friends, but they were all busy too. I say that we are just going to walk him home and that will be all right because it isn’t that far, really.
    The woman looks at me kind of funny but she doesn’t question me.
    “You can keep the halter. We have a lead to match and some brushes. You can take those too.” She disappears into the barn, then reappears with a bag that holds the lead rope and some brushes and things. She hands the bag to Cid.
    I take the bridle from Queenie and place the shiny silver bit gently against Smokey’s teeth. He smells wonderful, like newly mown hay and rolled oats. He may be green, but I can tell from his eyes that he’s really gentle. He snorts softly, then opens his mouth to take the bit. I pull the bridle up, fumbling with his ears because I’m nervous about spooking him, and then I fasten the chinstrap.
    Once I have all the straps done up properly I cluck softly to get him to come along. Smokey hangs back for a bit, then walks on. I cluck again and lead him from the paddock. I don’t take the time to admire him or check his feet or anything, because I’m afraid those kids will change their minds and want him back. But they just sit on the fence rail saying nothing. I can’t believe they would let total strangers walk away with their pony. I know that Queenie is thinking the same thing, and secretly, we don’t care. If those kids didn’t take to Smokey, they
should
give him to some kids who will. And that’s us.
    “Thank you,” I say to the woman.
    She smiles and nods. “Take care.”
    And that’s that. I can’t believe how easy it was.

chapter 3
the ride home
    I take the reins and walk Smokey through the gate and down the lane. Queenie is skipping along next to me. We haven’t even hit the road when Cid starts in about how she wants to ride him.
    “You have to wait. I don’t want them to see us riding him in case Smokey kicks up and one of us falls off.”
    “You’re not the boss of everything,” Cid says.
    At this point I want to hit her with the reins because I know it would hurt a lot. “Just
wait
until they can’t see us,” I hiss at her, my eyes squinting. She can see that I’m serious and backs off.
    Queenie is walking with one hand on Smokey’s neck. She hasn’t said a thing but her eyes are wide as saucers. I run my hand along the pony’s neck. I can feel his muscles moving in an easy rhythm as he walks. His eyes are dark and kind, and his nostrils are bright pink and dewy on the inside.
    When we can’t see the farm