Remember, you are all muses in training. I adore my muses and await your comments.
Chapter 4 Horses
Jade was lying on her back when she awoke. With eyes wide open, she stared at an unseen ceiling bathed in darkness. A luminescent line at the bottom of the door marked the hallway light. Rolling onto her side, she eyed the thin light, and wondered what time it was.
Placing her feet on the floor, she reached out for her clothes. Gone.
What happened last night?
Oh, yes. They had taken away her clothes to wash them, or discard them. She wasn't sure which. They had brought her a bath and taken away those rags.
She'd entered the bath, and slid down until the warm water touched her chin. Then she'd done her best to stay awake in that soothing, all enveloping sensation. With toes jutting out from the suds, she'd smelled the rank, oily odor of her hair. The thought of the interview with DuChant and her sorry appearance had made her squirm a little. Thank God for Pierre and her deadening fatigue! Both had saved her from a sense of humiliation.
After drying her hair, and throwing on the robe they'd given her, she'd crawled into bed and felt a supreme gratitude for that warm, secure place. It was soft and luxurious after the dirty, dank alleys. Exhaustion took over, and soon she slipped away from the ten day nightmare that was her introduction to Paris.
Now she opened the door, and found a chair with clothes neatly draped across it. She looked down the hallway to see if anyone else was about. No one. It must be late; everyone's at work. Bringing the clothes inside, she lit the gaslight. In the harsh, flat light, she held the dress up to herself and gazed into the enormous mirror on the wall.
Lovely cornflower blue color and an eccentric design, she thought. Was it a costume? She handled the rest of the clothes in the pile: chemise, corset, under garments. Grimacing, she picked up the corset and placed it in the dresser. An abomination.
Her hair was knotted and tangled so she worked it with a comb while facing the mirror. What a luxury to have this giant looking glass! Turning to check all sides of her dress, she studied herself for a moment and then did a quick, tight pirouette. Glancing in the mirror at her flushed cheeks, she winked at herself, and sped out of the room to the offices below.
DuChant was absent from his office. However, when she inquired as to his whereabouts, his secretary handed her a note that was addressed to her.
Mademoiselle,
Pierre explained to me that you might need a couple of days rest before you begin your work here. Therefore, you will not be expected to report to work until Monday morning at 8AM. At that time, please report to Mme. Truffaut who will explain what will be needed of you. Until then, feel free to visit the café for your meals.
M. DuChant
Pierre! Even though he was gone, he was still watching over her.
It was 3PM. He would be gone by now. He said that he would leave in the early afternoon to return to his home, and would be back in Paris next Friday. It was Saturday, and she wouldn't see him again for nearly a week.
Then again, if she ran to the market, she might catch him as he was leaving.
Jade flew down the hallways, retracing her steps from yesterday. Exiting through the front doors, she moved quickly up the street. The day was sunny and bright and the streets were full of traffic. Passing the café that they had dined in yesterday, she rushed to the market place. Once there, she looked in all directions for the familiar figure, and eventually found his empty stall.
Disappointed, she turned back to the opera house and reflected on the strength of her feelings. It wasn't like her to form a quick attachment to someone. As she thought of Pierre's warm smile, she realized that she was looking forward to their next meeting. They were strangers and yet he had treated her as a very dear, old friend. When she gave him the charm, she felt that he knew how much that gesture meant to her. How rare it is to feel understood, she mused.
Jade slowly walked back to the opera house, and enjoyed every step and sight on the way. This was a marvelous place to be, here in the center of the city. The place throbbed with activity. The street had a heavy flow of carts and carriages. The sidewalks were thick with men, women, and children of different social stations walking along side each other. It reminded her that she now lived in a large city with all types of people.
Along the avenue were shops of all sorts offering necessities and specialty items. One was selling riding clothes. She stopped in front of the window, and admired the breeches and the white crisp shirt that accompanied it. It had been an eternity since she had last been on a horse.
Continuing down the street, she soon arrived at the opera house. Instead of entering through the front doors, she walked down the small side street where Pierre had gone yesterday with his horse and cart. As she approached the side door to the great building, the sharp neigh of a horse rang out from an entrance further down the street.
Leaving the bright, warm day behind, she stepped into the dim shadows of the opera house stable. The scent was sweet and dusty, and smelled of horses, hay, straw, and manure. It all smelled wonderful. High, well built stalls lined both sides of the stable.
Jade approached the first stall on the right. Inside she found a big, chestnut gelding that was facing away from her. He was nosing his bedding and looking for a stray piece of hay. As she clucked to him softly, his ears turned towards her followed by his head. Walking slowly to her with an easy rolling motion of his shoulders, he pushed his head out of the stall to greet her. His big eyes softly met hers, as they stood looking across at each other—she the small human and he the enormous animal. Then she stepped forward, placed her hand to his nose, and rubbed it gently while speaking to him in a quiet, happy voice. She offered him a mouthful of hay, which he greedily pulled from her hands.
"Good boy" she murmured as she stroked the sides of his head. " Would you like to go for a ride?"
Looking around, she saw bridles, halters and other tack hanging on pegs in one massive display near the stable entrance. She poked around in neighboring trunks and found an old pair of leather breeches that were small enough for her to wear. There was no evidence of a stable hand or manager. Where was the staff?
Exploring further, she went through a side door that led to an exercise yard. It was a good-sized area with one large pen and two smaller ones. At the corner of the yard a path led away, probably to a nearby riding area.
Reentering the stable, she noticed some work clothes of various sizes hanging near the feed area. Taking down a small shirt, she found a private spot, and quickly changed from into the clothes she'd gathered. When she finished, she peered down the wide hall.
There was still no one else about. As she listened to the occasional snort and footfall of the horses she considered what sort of trouble she might get into if she rode without permission. It's worth it, she finally decided. If I weren't meant to ride, there would have been someone here to stop me.
Emboldened by her reasoning, she entered the stall. Placing a bridle on the chestnut, she led him to the large pen. Using an old, wooden bench to stand on, she slung her leg across his back, and mounted him. He stood motionless, waiting for her signal. A real gentleman, she thought. With a clicking sound and gentle pressure from her heels, she urged him to start.
Effortlessly, she put him through his paces. As they loped around the pen, a peace welled up inside of her. What is it about horses? She mused. There was a feeling of absolute serenity as she felt another's rhythm beneath her. It was like dancing, but different. Maybe it was the feeling of power coupled to an element of unpredictability—the possible stumble, the horse suddenly taking control when least expected. She loved the potential risk as well as the communion with the animal. It was living on the edge, or as close to it as a woman could experience.
After they finished, she brought the horse back to his stall and groomed him. Then she wanted one more go, so she walked along the aisle looking into each box. Towards the end of the stable, she found a white Arabian mare. Her warm, intelligent eyes seemed to dare Jade to ride her.
Intrigued, Jade took her out to the pen, and sensed that this would be a different ride from the first. Sure enough, she was only on her for about five minutes when she felt an almost imperceptible change beneath her. Then there was a break in the rhythm of the stride, and a quick turning, spinning motion of the horse. A less experienced rider would have been thrown. However, Jade held on without effort, nearly melting her body into that of the mare, matching her own rhythm with the one below. She corrected the horse swiftly and firmly. They continued the workout, and once more the white horse tried to unseat her. Again the mare was corrected, and they continued.
When the ride was over, she led the mare back to the stall, groomed her, and then prepared to leave. She had just finished changing back into her dress when a man entered from the dark hallway at the end of the stable. He looked at her briefly, and began to feed the animals.
Leaving the stable, she entered the back passages that led to the main building. The dim, quiet corridors were soothing as she hunted for a familiar landmark. After a time, she found the hallway that led to the staff quarters, and from there went to her room.
While facing the mirror, she finished the food that she'd brought yesterday from the café. She was thinking of the passages that led from the stable to the opera house. Tomorrow I'll explore those corridors and beyond. She wondered what secrets this great building held. Maybe there were architectural plans in the management's offices that would give her an idea of its complexity. Still, upon reflection, she decided that it would be more interesting to simply wander from passage to passage and see what she might find.
Humming a tune, she left her room, and made her way to the opera café.
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He was standing on the roof of the opera house, listening to the muffled sounds from the street below. Lately, he had been coming here often, following an unprecedented urge for afternoon sun. Although the desire was out of character with his normal habits, he obeyed it. He had learned many years ago to respect his intuition, and the strange inclinations that at times led to discoveries. The right place at the right time, he thought.
Surveying the grounds below, he heard the rhythmic pacing of a horse in the vicinity of the exercise pens. Looking over the parapet, he saw a horse and rider moving in slow circles in an exercise session. He didn't recognize the rider. A new boy, he assumed. Whoever he was, the lad knew how to sit a horse. His body was completely relaxed as if he had been born on one. He was riding bareback. When the horse and rider completed the turn, and approached him, he saw the rider's face, and his eyes widened. It was a woman riding.
He recognized her as the woman he'd seen yesterday on the front stairs of the opera house. He had watched her and her companion walk down the street, and stop in front of the building. She had looked very tired, and had walked with some difficulty. The man next to her had hovered close to her as if he were protecting her. He'd wondered what their relationship was, husband and wife, relatives? Her clothes were worn and his were simple but well kept. That disproved a spousal relationship. As she sat on the steps, and stretched her muscles, she had inadvertently glanced his way. She had swung quickly around to see him better but he had dodged her gaze.
Now here she was, riding one of the opera horses, looking relaxed and refreshed as if one night's sleep had transformed her.
He approved of the way she was handling the animal. She was giving signals to the horse with her hands and body and leaving the reins still. She was ignoring the bit. He was glad for that. Bridles with bits were rough and often a cruel way to control a horse; used by people who generally had no business being on top of them.
She dismounted, and left the pen. Curious about what was happening, he quickly went below. Moving secretively, he entered the stable just in time to see her lead the white mare out into the exercise yard. He frowned when he saw her choice. The beautiful mare was difficult to ride. The horse nearly always threw riders during their first ride. If that fool girl had asked someone, they would have warned her off. He positioned himself so that he could watch the inevitable tumble while still remaining unseen.
After five minutes into the workout, he noted the mare's subtle change in stride as she kicked her left front leg out slightly to the side. There, that's where she gets the balance she will need to do her spinning pivot. The mare did her trick, and the girl stayed on. She corrected the mare quickly, and without excessive force. He smiled as he watched. Had she known or was she just lucky? Shortly after, the mare repeated the maneuver. This time he watched the rider carefully, and saw the slight dip of her shoulder that exactly matched the mare's shift. Once again, a timely correction followed.
He noticed that in spite of the fact that the girl rode a difficult mount that had twice tried to unseat her, that she barely touched the reins. She knows what she's doing, and she's not afraid.
Afterwards, he watched her leave the stable, and pass the stable hand without acknowledging him as she made her way into the opera house. As she moved along the passageways he followed her. Moving gracefully, she showed no sign of the prior day's fatigue. In the staff quarters, he noted which room was hers, and quickly entered the hidden passage that lead to her room. She was in a room that he had access to via the two-way mirror. Standing next to the glass, he watched her finish her meal as she looked thoughtfully into the mirror with her gaze directed several inches above his left shoulder.
When she left, he turned away, and walked towards his home. It had been mildly entertaining, watching her. His routine boredom was interrupted by the novelty.
Soundlessly he traveled down the passages to the underground lake. Stepping into the narrow boat, his black cape caressed its sides as he turned, and pushed away from the bank. While gliding across the still water, he thought about the white mare and the confident figure that rode her. It might be worthwhile to occasionally check in on this new resident of his opera house. Perhaps there would be other surprises associated with this unorthodox, young woman.