Chasing Dream by Dandi Daley Mackall Page B

he was a kid. He spent a lot of time in the principal’s office.
    Ethan looks at me and shrugs his shoulders.
    I take hold of Dream’s halter and start to lead her out.
    â€œStop!” Principal Fishpaw says. “Ellie, on second thought, stay right where you are. Don’t let that horse move a whisker!” He looks around the room until his gaze settles on the potted green plants by the window. “Mrs. Ford?”
    Mrs. Ford, the librarian, stands up from behind the plants. Her blonde hair looks like she’s been riding a racehorse in the wind. “Y-yes, Principal Fishpaw?” Her voice makes her sound like a second grader.
    â€œMrs. Ford, will you please come out from behind that plant and take these children back to their classroom?”
    â€œOf course, Principal Fishpaw.” She starts shooing kids out from under tables. Two boys are huddled in one corner. They’re rolled up like a ball. But they unroll when Mrs. Ford comes for them.
    â€œTime to go!” she pleads. “The bell will ring any minute. Have to get your things together, children.”
    Finally the library is empty except for Principal Fishpaw and me. And Dream, of course.
    Principal Fishpaw frowns at me. “Well?”
    I’m not sure what he wants. First he said to go. Then he said to stop. And it’s not my fault Dream scared Principal Fishpaw onto a library table. I didn’t bring Dream to school . . . although I do sometimes imagine riding my horse to school. I picture ducking low and letting Dream climb the main steps to my classroom. She’d have her own desk, a big one next to mine.
    â€œEllie?” Mr. Fishpaw is probably waiting for me to say something.
    â€œY-yes, Principal Fishpaw? I-I’ll go home now, sir . . . with my horse.”
    â€œThat’s all you have to say?” he bellows.
    â€œUm. I’m really, really sorry?”
    He scowls at me like this is the wrong answer too. “This better not happen again, Ellie. You tell Leonard—your father—that he’d better fix that fence for good! There is no excuse for shoddy work, be it in the classroom or out.”
    Principal Fishpaw is the only person in the world who calls my dad Leonard. Mom calls him Lenny. Or honey. Or dear.
    â€œGo!” Principal Fishpaw stands so tall on the library table that he bumps his head. “Ouch!” He crouches and points toward the door. “Get that horse out of here!”
    The bell rings just as Dream and I step into the hall. Kids pour out of their classrooms. When they see my horse, they run up and try to pet her.
    I’m afraid Dream will shy away from kids or get spooked by so much noise. But she doesn’t. She lets them pet her, even though sometimes people aren’t gentle enough. And sometimes they’re not careful around sensitive spots, like her ears and flanks.
    Ellie’s Dream is the best horse in the whole world.
    â€œWhat’s that smell? I can’t believe they let that nag in here.” Larissa Richland blocks my exit outside.
    A couple of girls in my class gather around Larissa like she’s queen of Hamilton Elementary. She shakes her short red hair, and her perfect curls bounce. “Girls,” Larissa says to her royal court, “this is why you never want to get a backyard horse.”
    Larissa believes any horse that’s kept in the backyard, instead of a stable, isn’t fancy enough to be a real horse. She would never own a horse if her parents couldn’t trace it back to famous horse ancestors. She’d have no problem selling her own horse if it quit winning prizes for her in horse shows.
    I’m pretty sure Larissa’s horse has never even seen her backyard. When she calls Dream a backyard horse, she thinks it’s a huge insult.
    But I love having a backyard horse. Backyard horses make the best friends. Plus, it’s great having a friend live so close. If Larissa wants to see