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Abby Malone by Shelley Peterson |
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`Obviously an animal-lover, Peterson writes with warmth and understanding of animals and their emotions and of those who are able to respond to them. In doing so, she has designed a compelling and suspenseful story that is difficult to set aside once it is begun. And in her title character, Abby Malone, Peterson has fashioned a bewitching young girl whose intelligence and resilience do justice to this tautly woven tale. ... `Sprightly Abby Malone has a charm reminiscent of L.M. Montgomery's young girls, of such intrepid problem-solvers as Jane of Lantern Hill and Sara Stanley of The Story Girl and The Golden Road. She combines an adventurous spirit with sensitivity, common sense and a good degree of feisty courage. Abby is a memorable character, well drawn by Peterson, whose knowledge of young people and animals is noteworthy.' `Abby Malone is a very likeable main character in very challenging circumstances, but occasionally displays human weaknesses that make her more believable. She lives in a world of both peers and adults all too willing to put her down. She is so likeable that naturally she does have at least one good friend her own age and attracts the protection of some kindly older adults. Not only are horses key characters, but so also is a coyote and to a lesser degree other animals.' `...This is a story that will inspire any reader, young or not, and would make a great gift or prize.' `Former Londoner Shelley Peterson is a writer of exceptional talent.' Her first novel, Dancer, continues to be a Canadian bestseller and now Shelley Peterson brings you her eagerly-awaited second novel, Abby Malone. Abby is a young teenager striving to make things work out right. Animals - a coyote, twin baby raccoons, a speedy bay mare named Moonlight Sonata - are things she can handle, but the human world is a more confusing and dangerous place. Abby Malone sits at her desk in a sweltering classroom in June and daydreams about the beautiful mare across the road. Before we know it, she's out the window, `borrowing' the mare and rounding up the neighbour's escaped cows, adding another black mark to her record of bad behaviour at school. Things are not easy at home: an alcoholic mother and an incarcerated father add to her ever-present fear of eviction, yet Abby doggedly tries to make the best of every situation. `All my problems are with humans,' she tells her raccoons. But not all humans are bad; Pete and Laura Pierson, the elderly farm couple who live beside the school, give her assistance, encouragement and support while Abby tackles a mystery, falls in love, and competes in a perilous steeplechase. This is a fast-paced story that takes the reader on an unforgettable journey of heartache and personal triumph. Chapter One Merry Fields And, though she be but little, she is fierce. -- Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream, III, ii It was hot. Muggy and hot. Abby's skinny legs sweated in her jeans, and she squirmed in an effort to get comfortable. The supply teacher, Miss Smithers, droned on in a monotone punctuated with peevish sighs about English grammar, and how few people bothered with the finer points any more. No one in the class had any idea what she was talking about because her subject had been off the curriculum for years. She'd been going on for hours, it seemed to Abby, as the classroom baked in the heat of this Thursday afternoon in June. Abby had a difficult time tuning in. `And so the categorizing of subject and predicate is not only ... blah blah blah ... when parsing a sentence, but ... blah blah blah ... between the topic of the phrase and what is being observed about it ...' Blah, blah, blah. Abby's mind continued to drift. She idly observed her fellow grade-eight classmates. Her best friend, Leslie Morris, looked almost bug-eyed in her effort to appear interested. Abby smiled affectionately. She knew Leslie wouldn't want to hurt anybody's feelings, however boring the person was. Her golden-brown skin glowed with sweat and her black hair was even curlier than usual from the humidity. Leslie was sensitive and kind, the only kid in the class who didn't ridicule Abby about her father. Leo Rodrigues, the self-declared class bully, slept on his desk and occasionally uttered a short snort that sounded very much like a hog, the animal that Abby thought he most resembled. His sidekick, Larry Lloyd, was carving something for Pam's amusement on the inside of his desk. Pam Masters, sitting next to him, was more interested in her nails and whether Tommy Singh was watching her. Tommy couldn't care less about Pam's nails, and was finishing off a sketch of what he thought Annie Payne would look like in the nude. Abby turned her head to assess Annie, and decided that Tommy had a vivid imagination. All this time the teacher's voice drifted in and out of Abby's consciousness. `Most educational institutions today are returning to the complete parsing of the sentence after experimenting unsuccessfully with other ... blah blah blah. May I have your attention, now, while I ... blah blah ... the various usages of the Subjunctive ... blah blah blah....' Abby gazed out the window of the one-level yellow brick school and sighed. There were so many things in her life that were troubling her. So many things she was confused about. So many things more important than this interminable grammar lesson. She studied the day outside. The sky over the fresh green pastures was a Mediterranean blue, and the little wisps of cirrus clouds flitting over the tree-tops made Abby think of ocean spray at sea. New corn was growing in the field next to the school, and wild spring flowers shot vivid colour into unexpected places along the fence line. Past the fence Mr Pierson's Hereford cows grazed calmly, watched over by the huge chestnut-and-white bull. Their farm was called `Merry Fields' in honour of Maryfield, Saskatchewan, the town where Mr Pierson grew up. Mr and Mrs Pierson, both in their mid-seventies, were her friends. Ever since she was small, they had always been glad to see her whenever she dropped in to ask advice about keeping little homeless animals alive. They'd remained stalwart supporters of her family throughout the long and very public trial. The view of Merry Fields out her classroom window comforted and cheered her. Abby's eyes travelled hopefully across the road. There she was, the most beautiful horse that Abby could imagine. The little mare was silky and fine-boned, with long legs and an intelligent, pretty little face. Her mane, tail and legs were jet black and her healthy, glossy coat was dark brown; a true bay |
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