Free Unhappy Appy by Dandi Daley Mackall Page A

shouted, directing him to Nickers. “This pretty white one.” She held Mason’s arm up so he touched Nickers’ belly.
    Nickers’ skin twitched, the way it does when a fly lights.
    Madeline jumped back, pulling Mason’s hand away.
    Nickers didn’t like the sudden movement. She tossed her head and pawed the ground.
    â€œEasy, girl,” I cooed, wishing I could tell Madeline to take it easy.
    â€œShe’s kind of touchy, isn’t she?” Madeline asked, backing away.
    â€œNo.” I answered too quickly. I tried again. “Not exactly. Arabians have thinner skin than most horses. But every horse has a muscle, the Panniculus, right under the surface of the skin. That’s what makes their skin twitch for flies and dirt and stuff. It doesn’t mean anything.”
    â€œYou don’t think she’s too . . . spirited . . . too wild, maybe? Not for you, of course. But for Mason?”
    â€œShe’s not wild,” I muttered, thinking how people used to call my horse Wild Thing . She’s spirited and sensitive. She reads moods, like Madeline’s fear. But she’s not wild.
    â€œYou haven’t really given this a chance, Madeline,” Dad said.
    â€œYou’re right,” Madeline admitted. “You’re both right.” She glanced around. “Mason?”
    He’d moved to Towaco’s stall and was staring at the Appaloosa. The Appy craned his neck around to stare back.
    â€œLet’s give this horse another try, Mason,” Madeline said, picking him up and carrying him back to Nickers.
    â€œIt’s really better if Mason walks up on his own,” I suggested.
    â€œI’m sure you’re right, Winnie. It’s just that he’s not used to horses.” Still holding him, Madeline moved closer to Nickers.
    Nickers danced in place as if the floor were hot.
    Mason twisted in his mother’s arms.
    â€œWhat’s the matter with Nickers?” Dad cried.
    â€œNothing’s wrong with Nickers,” I snapped. “She’s just picking up on human fear.”
    â€œI know,” Madeline said. “Mason’s always been afraid of horses.”
    But it wasn’t his fear I was worried about. I’m not even a horse, and I could feel Madeline’s fear.
    Mason squirmed and managed to slip through Madeline’s long arms. His feet dropped to the floor. Madeline snatched him up again.
    Nickers whinnied and jerked back on the cross-ties.
    Madeline screamed.
    Mason cried.
    â€œThat’s it.” She carried the crying, struggling Mason over by Dad. As soon as she did, Nickers settled down. “This was a mistake, Jack. I’m very grateful to both of you for trying, but—”
    â€œDidn’t the doctor say it would be good for Mason to ride horses?” Dad reasoned. “You can’t give up after one try, Madeline.”
    â€œI know it’s my fault. I’ve never been good around horses,” Madeline admitted.
    Mason had been crying so loud I had trouble hearing anything else. Now he stopped crying so suddenly it was as if someone pressed an Off button. He was staring over his mother’s shoulder at Towaco.
    â€œMaybe we’ve had enough for one day,” Dad suggested. “Let’s go inside and talk about it calmly.”
    I stayed in the barn and finished grooming Nickers. She was as sweet as could be.
    Later, when I walked into the house, Dad and Madeline were still talking about Nickers. Peter Lory sat on Madeline’s shoulder. At least she wasn’t afraid of birds. Lizzy and Hawk were sitting on the couch with Mason between them.
    â€œHis name is Larry,” Lizzy said, stroking her lizard with her index finger.
    â€œIt’s just that the white horse is so high-spirited, Jack,” Madeline was saying. “Maybe I should find a pony, something more Mason’s size.”
    â€œPonies can be very high-spirited, Ms. Edison,”