“How ’bout I write up a list of commands and maybe you can help out with him at the race tonight?” Pony suggested. “I been reading some of the papers the trainer left, and that little fella is quite the traveler. All you gotta do is put a diaper on him and you can stick him right in the limo or helichopper. My wife’s down in the laundry room this very minute fixing a fancy blanket with the Comm’wealth of Virginia seal on it that he can wear under his harness. ”
Regina’s mood continued to improve, as if anger and depression had been a stationary front all of her life and suddenly the oppressive, solid layer of unhappiness was moving away. She thought of Andy and his lecturing her about showing compassion, and she rehearsed an empathic line or two in her head as Pony continued to tell her about Trip’s being housebroken and how to put on his tennis shoes and that he liked to snuggle when he wasn’t working.
“I’m glad Papa’s straightening out your prison mess, ” Regina repeated what she had rehearsed several times in her mind. “But I hope you’ll still work for us, Pony, even if you don’t have to anymore. ”
Pony was startled and wondered if Regina had a fever. She did look a little pale this morning and wasn’t touching her food, and it sure wasn’t like her to be nice.
“I would like it a lot if you wrote down that list of commands for me. ” Regina continued to baffle Pony with kindness. “Papa will need some help with Trip at the race, and I want to make sure I know everything I should. I’m glad Papa has a Seeing Eye horse. Maybe he won’t need all those magnifying glasses anymore. ”
Regina got up from the table and neatly folded her napkin as Pony looked at her as if she had magically turned into someone else.
“Thank you, Miss Reginia, ” Pony said. “I’ll make you that list and maybe show you a few things, if you want. ”
“Thank you, Pony, ” Regina said as she headed upstairs to her parents’ master suite.
The First Lady was seated at her ornate Chinese desk, scrolling through something on the Internet, her attention rapt.
“Where’s Papa?” Regina asked, pulling up a chair to see what her mother was so engrossed in.
“I believe he’s in the garden with the pony, ” Mrs. Crimm said, tapping the down arrow.
“We shouldn’t refer to Trip as a pony, ” Regina replied in an unusually thoughtful tone. “He’s a minihorse, not a pony, and when Papa starts calling out pony this and pony that, Pony thinks he’s talking to him and gets confused and it probably hurts his feelings, too. ”
The First Lady gave Regina a perplexed glance and said, “Well, I suppose you’re right. You seem in a strangely pleasant mood this morning. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you like this. Are you sick?”
“I don’t know what’s wrong, ” Regina said, staring over her mother’s shoulder at what appeared to be a new essay by Trooper Truth. “But I dreamed about tires again, Mama, and it started me thinking about what Andy said to me on the way to the morgue. Then I started thinking about the morgue, too, and wondering if I would have ended up there if I’d eaten any more of those cookies Major Trader tried to hurt Papa with. And suddenly I started feeling a little bit of hope. You know, I’ve never thought there was any hope. ”
“Of course there’s hope, dear, ” Mrs. Crimm absently said as she wondered if those Tangier watermen would indeed find the Tory Treasure, which most certainly would include trivets from raided plantations–not that she assumed pirates used trivets, but they might have. Certainly, they cooked on their ships, and it would make sense to set a hot pot on a trivet to prevent wooden surfaces in the galley from getting burned.
“How long do you suppose a trivet could be on the bottom of the bay before it would rust away?” she questioned out loud as she peered through antique wire-rimmed glasses that were attached to a long, gold chain. “You should read this. It’s quite interesting, about an old piece of iron that most likely will lead to the Tory Treasure, and I’m assuming if a piece of iron would still be intact after hundreds of years of being under water, then why wouldn’t a trivet fare just as well? Many of them are iron.