Renaissance Man

by M. Garzon

  “It’s not like I’m going to ravage you,” I muttered, closing the door. “I just need a minute to think.”

  We settled on my bed, and his reassuring arms closed around me. I rested my head against his shoulder and felt no desire to talk. Or move, but a quick glance at my alarm clock indicated that I had students arriving. I huddled closer for a few minutes before pulling away with a sigh.

  “I have to go work. Will you stay?”

  He nodded. “I’ll ride, and then I’ll take you out for lunch.”

  Somehow while I was teaching in the cold indoor arena my brain got unstuck and started ticking over with questions. The only one that really counted, though, was whether I could trust Dec when he said he wouldn’t sell.

  We went to the tiny town of Julien’s only restaurant for lunch. It was a diner-style place, but they made good breakfasts so I ordered an omelet. Neither of us spoke while we waited for our food. It was one of the things I loved about Jaden; he didn’t feel the need to fill up silences. Instead, he made them feel special and intimate. He cupped his hands around my cold ones on the table.

  The food came, and I finished half my plate before I felt restored enough to speak. “I still don’t understand. I thought Gran owned the barn?”

  “Gran owns the business,” Jaden explained. “She owns the horses, the tack, and the equipment, but she rents the location. The actual property — the land, house, and barn — belongs to Dec, Penny and my dad.”

  “Did you know about this?” I asked. “You seem to understand it a lot better than I do.”

  “I only knew that my dad expected to get a portion of the money if the barn ever sold. I didn’t know any details.”

  “But why would Granddad make things so complicated?”

  Jaden shrugged. “He didn’t really. It’s not an unusual setup for a business; there were probably tax advantages at the time.”

  I searched Jaden’s eyes. The gold flecks floating in pools of clear light brown never failed to mesmerize me, but today I refused to be distracted. “Do you think it’s true that your dad can’t force Dec to sell?”

  He thought about it for a minute. “Up to a point. He could possibly ask Dec to pay him for his share, but the real deciding factor will be Aunt Penny. The two of them could conceivably take Dec to court and force him into selling.”

  I felt my mouth drop open for about the tenth time that day. “Do you think she would?”

  “I don’t know, Téa. Stacey will be starting university next year. Faced with paying for her child’s education, even Aunt Penny might be tempted.”

  This was turning out to be the least relaxing spring break ever. I went back to work and moved through the day on autopilot, and woke up the next day feeling less apprehensive. Nothing would be decided anytime soon, I figured, and in truth, I didn’t have any energy to spare for worrying.

  * * *

  Two days later I was getting ready to ride when I heard a loud smack. I whirled around in time to see Hades fling his head up and step back to the limit of the crossties.

  “Dec!” I exclaimed, striding over angrily.

  “That brute tried to take a chunk out of me,” he growled. He gave me a hard stare, but I didn’t back down.

  “That’s no reason to hit him,” I snapped. Then I gulped. The barn was full, and defying him in front of the boarders was undoubtedly a bad idea.

  I watched Dec’s eyes narrow at my impertinence. “Get in the house, Téa.”

  “Okay, but-”

  “Now.”

  I glanced over at Lisa, whose pinto gelding was on the crossties facing Hades.

  “I’ll watch him,” she said quietly. I headed for the house, fuming, and once inside started pacing the living room. Dec hadn’t followed behind me, but that wasn’t a surprise. It was a tactic he’d often employed when Seth and I were younger; he’d make us go into the house and wait for him, and usually, the suspense was almost as bad as the punishment. Not this time, I thought grimly. I was fed up with being treated like a child, so when Dec came in I faced him squarely.

  “What’s going on, Dec?” I demanded.

  He looked taken aback, but he stepped closer. His light blue eyes reminded me of ice when he was angry, and he was definitely angry now. “I won’t stand for insolence, Téa. I still expect you to treat me with some respect.”

  My heart was starting to pound from his tense proximity. I took a deep breath.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” I explained. I realized I wasn’t looking at him and forced myself to raise my eyes. “But Hades was entrusted to me, and I don’t want him getting head-shy.” I hurried on as Dec opened his mouth. “I’ll teach him not to bite, okay?”

  He hesitated, watching my face, but I could see the rigid set of his stocky shoulders begin to relax, and I tried to keep my expression sincere. Finally, he nodded.

  I thought about it as I trudged back to the barn. Hades had disliked Dec on sight, and Dec wasn’t much fonder of the horse. At first, I’d figured that Hades had issues with men — it wasn’t uncommon — but as it transpired, he had liked Jaden and Seth just fine. He was a very dominant horse, and his cresty neck and wide, solid muscling made me think he’d been gelded late, which would give him more of a stallion’s personality. That alpha outlook would be enough to cause him to clash with Dec, who expected clear submissiveness from all the horses he interacted with. I didn’t know how I was going to get either of them to back down, but they had to learn to live with each other.

  “He was a good boy,” Lisa said when I got back. Hades pushed her with his nose and she stumbled sideways with a startled laugh. She righted herself and patted him, recognizing that from Hades the shove was a mark of affection. She tucked a strand of wispy blond hair behind her ear as her eyes moved to study me, and I looked away quickly. Her obvious concern left me feeling both embarrassed and touched.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Other than the fact that Dec still thinks I’m twelve, great,” I said sourly.

  Lisa smiled the gentle smile that had soothed many a hurt. “I think Dec is having a hard time letting you grow up. After all, the more he lets go of you, the more he lets go of your mother.”

  I grumbled about the incident to Jaden when he came over. To my surprise, he smiled.

  “That’s just his way. It’s not that he’s treating you like a child.”

  “He doesn’t treat you that way,” I pointed out sulkily. Like a child.

  “I earned his respect. I stood on my own two feet in the world, made a success of my career, bought a place to live... you’ll get there, querida. Dec’s not easy to impress.”

  Maybe my performance with Hades that year would impress him, I thought, since Hades was so monumentally improved. We were planning to start the season in the 1.35-meter division — a shade under four and a half feet — but I hoped he’d move up quickly from there. I was thrilled when his owner, Monica, called me with plans to go to the first A-rated show of the year.

  “Get back to me as soon as possible,” Monica said after we’d discussed it. “I need to make the arrangements and there isn’t much time left.” As soon as I hung up I bounced to the barn to see Dec, smiling all the way. I found him putting envelopes into the boarder’s cubbies.

  “Guess what?” I said. “Monica and Neil want me to ride Hades at the Fieldstone show in Massachusetts. Isn’t that awesome?”

  He frowned. “Hold on. When will you be gone?”

  “Um, Friday to Monday of the week after next.” I wasn’t smiling anymore.

  “So you’ll miss two days of school just before exams, and you won’t take your students to the schooling show that weekend? Weren’t some of them planning on it?”

  “Well, yes, but Catherine can go with them.”

  “They’re your students, Téa,” he said impatiently. “They’ll want their own coach at a show. And I don’t like the idea of you missing school.”

  I felt anxiety filling me like sludge. “But Dec, th
is is a big show,” I pleaded. “And the prize money’s good.” Appealing to his financial sense was one of the few things that routinely worked to convince Dec.

  “I don’t see why you have to go so far — in a month you can go to Eastwood, and you won’t miss any school that way. No one else is doing A shows now.”

  “Everyone who’s in Florida is! It’s hard enough to compete when I don’t get to ride down there; going to Fieldstone may at least give me a bit of an edge,” I said.

  He shook his head. “I’ve got a lot on my mind right now. Let me think about it.” He turned back to his sorting.

  “But I have to answer Monica today,” I said desperately.

  “She’ll wait,” he growled.

  I knew better than to push him further or he’d say no out of sheer orneriness. Anxiety made me jittery for the rest of the day, and I felt resentment oozing blackly from my cells. I was nineteen years old. I was responsible for my own life, but not allowed to live it as I saw fit. I was responsible for my own career, but not allowed to follow my passion. I felt suffocated, as though the life I was living was a pale mirror image of the one I was truly destined for. Maybe I could never be great, but I wanted the chance to try.

  I went into the house, hoping a cup of tea would help calm me. I used the boot scraper on the porch to clean my boots before going in. It was shaped like a hedgehog, and you rubbed your boots against the “quills” — tough bristles that scraped the bulk of the mud off. I felt myself sag as I stepped through the door. If Seth were here there would be trails of mud across the entrance floor, his boots would be dropped right in front of the door where they’d be sure to trip me, and his jacket would as likely be on the floor as on its hook. But — after I’d yelled at him or picked up after him, depending on my mood — he’d tow me into the kitchen for his fourteenth snack of the day and he’d make me laugh and think, as I often did, that it was those small everyday moments that made life worthwhile. If only Seth were here, he’d make Dec smile and I’d get my answer right away.

  Toward evening I called Jaden. He was still at school and sounded weary. My frustration with Dec poured out, and Jaden listened quietly until I was done. A long pause followed.

  “I know you’re busy,” I said apologetically.

  “It’s not that, Téa. Don’t you think Dec has a point about focusing on school?”

  It took me a minute to be able to speak. “I maintained an A-minus average last semester, even with everything else I had going on,” I protested. Mucking stalls for a month, finding my biological father, and my twin’s growing discontent had been more than minor distractions.

  “And I’m proud of you for that. Now imagine if you actually focused all your energy on school — don’t you think your average would rise to A or even A plus?” he asked.

  I felt confused and irritated all at the same time. “You know I can’t focus all my energy on school.”

  “You can’t, or you don’t want to?” He questioned me gently, but my confusion was rapidly dissipating, leaving ire in its place.

  “I didn’t realize my academic success was so all-important to you,” I snapped.

  “Of course it’s important to me, Téa. We’re building a life together.”

  I felt the sharp knife-thrust of betrayal. “I’ve got to go,” I said, abruptly ending the conversation.

  I dropped the phone and held my head in my hands. Jaden knew better than anyone how important my riding was to me. I’d always thought he fully supported my goals, and for him to now question them — to side with Dec — left me reeling with confusion and hurt.

  * * *

  Dec relented in the end. It was weird going to a show without any of my friends, although to my relief I wasn’t alone with the Donalds, Hades’ owners, because Karen brought a horse too and I drove down with her. It wasn’t a show she normally attended because as Dec had said, in early April most people are either resting after Florida or just gearing up for the show season in the Northeast.

  Karen’s chestnut horse was stabled right next to Hades, and as we went to feed them their breakfast the next morning Karen abruptly halted, grinning.

  “You’re going to love this,” she said, pointing to Hades’ stall. Hanging on the metal door of the temporary stabling was a sign with Hades’ show name, ‘Lord of the Underworld’. I thought it was a fairly pretentious name to begin with, but the sign had so much bling on it that my eyes hurt. His name was written in some kind of glittery red paint, and the whole thing was framed by what looked like rhinestones. It wasn’t the kind of thing you ever saw at a conservative Hunter/Jumper show.

  Karen went to feed her horse, still chuckling, and I stomped through the fresh shavings of the stall to feed Hades. He wasn’t very polite and kept trying to shove his nose into the bucket before I got to his feed tub. I was so busy fending him off that I almost missed it — something shiny at the bottom of his tub. I scooped it out quickly before dumping the grain in and leaving Hades to eat.

  “Check this out,” I said to Karen, holding out the clear stone I’d found. She raised it to eye level. It was about the size of a golf ball.

  “Hello, hello,” Monica sang out cheerfully as she arrived. “Oh, I see you found one of my crystals.”

  “Luckily, because it was in Hades’ stall,” I told her.

  “Well, yes, I put it there. My astrologer said that it would help to clear away his negative energy,” she explained.

  I stared at her for a minute, dumbstruck. I very carefully didn’t look at Karen, who was covering up her laughter with a coughing fit.

  Finally, I cleared my throat. “Monica, you can’t put crystals in Hades’ stall, it’s dangerous. What if he had eaten it?”

  She waved a hand airily. “Oh, I’m sure he knows better than to eat a rock. Animals are much more intelligent than we give them credit for, you know.”

  Really? I had no idea, I thought snarkily. I only trained them for a living, after all. “I agree, but I’ve also seen horses die from colic after eating strange things. Do you really want to take a chance? Trust me, his energy’s fine.”

  She gave a little pout. It looked odd on her since she was in her fifties. She had pouffy shoulder-length bleached blond hair, long magenta fingernails, and matching lipstick. She was wearing swishy wide-legged beige pants and a pink top that didn’t flatter her slightly overweight body. She wasn’t unattractive, but it looked as though she was trying too hard. She was a very successful real estate agent, so I could only imagine she dressed differently at work.

  She handed me her purse. “Hold Taffy and I’ll get the rest of the crystals.” I didn’t understand what she meant until I looked down. It wasn’t a purse at all, but one of those shoulder bags people use to carry dogs. A tiny head popped out. The dog had silky long hair tied on top of its head with a ridiculous pink bow, and she quivered with excitement as she looked around with bulging eyes. When I reached into the bag to pat her she licked my hand enthusiastically.

  Monica emerged from the stall with two more crystals, and I handed Taffy back to her.

  “She’s very cute,” I said. I meant it — it wasn’t the dog’s fault that she was carried around in a garish pink bag.

  Neil came puffing up. I was surprised to see them this early; they’d rented a condo with some friends. “We’re off to do some sightseeing,” he said in his usual officious way. “Our friends came a long way to watch Hades perform, so I hope he’s ready to impress them.”

  I swallowed hard. I just hoped we could do at a show what we did at home.

  The Fieldstone Show Park was large and impressive, but I tried not to notice as I warmed up before my first class. Spring was in definite evidence and the day was sunny and cool, perfect for riding. In every direction were gleaming coats of chestnut, grey, black, and Hades’ own bay. The venue was new to him too, but at least he wasn’t plagued by worries of inferiority as I was, I thought. As we strode up to the in-gate, he raised his head and surveyed the course imperiously, making
me smile. No, he definitely wasn’t worried.

  I tried to take my cue from him. After all, I didn’t know anyone at this show. These weren’t the same riders who had watched me year after year, struggling on unschooled ponies with my hand-me-down riding clothes and used tack. And so, even though everyone around me was wearing custom-made boots and tailored jackets that cost more than my car, I kept my head high.

  “Just get around,” Karen reminded me before I went in. It was our first real show of the year and Karen had advised me to ride conservatively.

  We walked in and I saluted the judge. Then we picked up a canter, adrenaline making my heart hammer. Hades still took a lot of riding, but now that I could direct his massive power, the jumps themselves were easy. The challenge was in getting Hades to listen to my signals because when he got excited he tended to tune me out. I barely noticed the first two fences, the rhythmic da-da-dum, da-da-dum of Hades’ canter evidence of his relaxed concentration. We came around a corner to a combination of jumps set on the diagonal. There was only room for one stride in between the fences, which was always a challenge for Hades because of his very long stride. I brought my upper body back and deepened my seat, and Hades mimicked me, shifting his weight back onto his hindquarters, his stride shortening automatically. We jumped in perfectly and he was able to comfortably round himself over the tricky second vertical.

  “Good boy,” I murmured as we landed. One of his black-tipped ears flicked back, listening, and I felt a wave of happiness from him. My fears evaporated, and by the time I left the ring I was smiling broadly. We had a time fault and finished third in the class, and I patted his sweaty neck proudly as we went to collect our yellow ribbon.

  We weren’t as lucky the next day when the course included a liverpool, which Hades had never seen before. A liverpool is an artificial pool of water under a jump, and they can spook horses, who perceive things differently than humans do. If they don’t know what it is, a liverpool may look to a horse like a big hole in the ground, and sometimes the light reflecting off the water can confuse them. To a horse, any unknown is a cause for fear — after all, an alligator could pop out of there!