The whole Pine City encounter, with Frank threatening Levade and then me becoming custodian to Sasquatch, had completely derailed my thinking. I’d forgotten to ask Levade if she was planning to attend the horse show in Duluth, and more important, I had failed to get her phone number. So I would just have to press on with my plan.
I stopped over at Marney’s cabin to ask if she’d check in on Sass and make sure he ate his dinner and had plenty of water. I was headed to Duluth to see a horse show.
“Oh, for fun!” she said, and I was reminded that Minnesotans put “Oh, for” in front of almost any word. Marney bubbled over. “I think that’s the show that the woman on the Point goes to see every year. Helen says she takes her horse along, although I can’t imagine a horse watching a horse show, but maybe it’s an outing for both of them.”
Levade will be there! My mind danced with the possibility of seeing her. I thanked Marney profusely for helping more than she knew.
Marney followed me back to my cabin to meet Sass, and I began to prepare her for the shock of seeing a cat his size. “Now he’s perfectly harmless, but he’s a big boy,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “Why don’t you sit in this rocker for your first meeting, kind of be on his level,” I suggested. Then I opened the bedroom door, and Sass came flying out, rounded the enclosed porch, and raced into the living room like he was passing the one-mile marker at Churchill Downs, clearing the couch and the second rocker and landing on Marney, causing all the air to blow out of her body at both ends.
The force of Sass’s landing tipped the rocker over backward, and Marney’s head was on a trajectory with the hard floor when I scooped them both up like a ground ball and righted the rocker. Marney had completely disappeared behind a pile of fur, and I was certain Sass had blown my chances for a babysitter.
Before I could apologize, Marney swooned. “Oh, for cute! Don’t you worry about a thing, Taylor. Little Sassafras and I will be juuust fine.” It was clear Sass had found his true love.
Bonus round! I patted Sass good-bye before anything else could happen, hugged Marney, and told her I’d be back late. Then I hit the road.
Turning the radio up and the windows down, I sang along with Kelly Clarkson to Love So Soft, ecstatic I had a lead on Levade.
* * *
The fairgrounds were packed with expensive horse trailers and rows of booths selling everything from spangled show jackets and expensive horse-themed jewelry, to German riding crops and tufted saddle pads. In and near the arenas, riders in shiny, knee-high boots led buffed and beautiful, high-priced horses around for a little exercise. I stood in line to buy a ticket for the day, picked up a program, and scanned the crowd for Levade.
It certainly wasn’t the kind of casual horse show I’d imagined. The horses were well groomed and well trained, and they were competing for ribbons and rankings. I sat next to an older man, who seemed fixated on the horses exercising in the ring.
“Do you have a horse in the show?” he asked politely, keeping his eyes on the ring.
“No. I know next to nothing about dressage. Just an outing.”
“This is a recognized FEI event, Fédération Équestre Internationale. Do you know the movements like the half pass, where the horse is moving forward and sideways on the diagonal, and the flying change, where they switch leads as they travel at a canter?” When I looked clueless, he pointed to a little insert in the program that described what the horses were being judged on. “It doesn’t really matter if you know what the movements are. The horses’ performances are just beautiful to watch.” He pointed to a man warming up on the sidelines. “That’s the passage, where the horse performs a powerful and suspended trot.”
I scrolled down the list of riders, their entry numbers, their horse’s name, and the time they would ride. Like a flashing neon sign, it jumped out, startling me. #312 LEVADE BISSET—ALIZAR 2:42 P.M., ARENA #1. I looked up at the logo-covered walls and spotted a big sign that said ARENA #2. I checked my watch; it was 2:10 p.m. I asked the man next to me for directions, then bolted out of the stands and jogged to the adjacent arena, skidding to a stop inside the giant doors.
Several riders were working their horses and preparing them to compete or just standing with them. In their helmets, and from a distance, the riders were nearly indistinguishable from one another, so if Levade was there, I couldn’t find her.
I took a seat as close to the ring as I could. The announcer asked everyone to clear the arena. Then arena-drag equipment drove through, smoothing the dirt for the riders.
After fifteen minutes, dirt smoothed and track cleared, the announcer said, “First in arena one is Levade Bisset on Alizar, a twelve-year-old Lipizzaner stallion.” Levade and Alizar cantered out to the center of the ring, stopped, and bent their heads to salute the judges. I wanted to applaud because she and Alizar were so beautiful together, and they hadn’t even done anything yet.
Then the music began, and Levade, her body never moving, her hands quiet, seemed to be merely along for the ride as Alizar executed the half pirouette, half pass, and flying change fluidly and in rhythm to the music, as if he and Levade were dancing together. It was incredibly sensual to watch—an elegant woman and a powerful stallion making dramatic moves that landed right on the beat of the music. I knew enough to realize that Levade was giving him expert, invisible cues, and that the two of them were mentally in tune, more so than she was with people. After five minutes of sheer magic, Alizar came to a stop in front of the judges—halt and salute! It was beyond sexy, and the crowd went wild as the two of them exited the arena. How many hours, days and years must they have trained together for this? I’ve reached a new low. I’m jealous of Alizar for dancing with her!
I could see Levade in the exercise area, adjacent to the arena, watching through the arena doors as ten other horses went through their paces. None of them were as graceful and talented as she. At four thirty p.m., they announced the ribbon winners, and Levade took first place in her division. But her big win came at the end of the day, when the announcer intoned, “High Point for the show goes to rider number #312, Levade Bisset, on Alizar.” The applause drowned out the remainder of his remarks. She re-entered the ring for the awards ceremony, took the lead spot, at the head of the riders, and circled the arena as people applauded. Then she stopped to accept her trophy as Alizar tucked his front leg under and bowed for the photographer to snap a photo. I was overjoyed. How amazingly talented. How beautiful. People crowded around her, and I wanted to be one of those people, but interrupting would disrupt her moment with all the other riders.
After the show, Levade led Alizar to a horse trailer that looked like a luxury liner, kissed his muzzle, patted his neck, and looked into his eyes for a long talk. She spoke at length with a man who took the halter rope and led Alizar up a ramp onto the trailer, and they drove away. The trailer was marked LF, and I wondered if Levade owned Alizar, or if she just trained and rode him for someone else, or if she’d just sold him. Her body language seemed to say she wouldn’t be seeing him back at the Point, and I felt incredibly sad for her. I decided to walk over and speak to her privately and congratulate her, having finally understood why she carried herself so ramrod straight, moved so elegantly, and was so sophisticated. She had obviously been trained from childhood for this world of magnificent horses and elegant riders.
I was within earshot when a tall woman in riding gear approached, and Levade seemed delighted to see her. They hugged a too-long embrace, as far as I was concerned, and the taller woman slung her arm over Levade’s shoulder and walked her toward the concession stand, saying, “We’re all getting together for dinner to celebrate your big win.” That was the end of my opportunity to speak to her.
I stopped at a booth and asked for a pen and a piece of paper and wrote, “Levade, you were phenomenal! Huge congratulations! Love, Taylor” I included my cell-phone number. A young boy in jeans and boots was watching me, and I said, “You see that woman over there who just won the big trophy? Would you take this note to her?” I handed him a ten-dollar bill for his effort. He headed in her direction, and I headed for my car. I hung around for half an hour in the parking area, hoping she might call, but she didn’t.
I drove back to Muskie so thrilled that I’d seen Levade ride and so upset that another woman had her arm around her, perhaps at this very minute! I tried to remain calm and rational—being jealous was ridiculous—focusing on Levade’s incredible performance. Who would ever have known that the woman with the white horse on the Point was a talented equestrian? Most of the people in Muskie had written her off as odd, which in fact she appeared to be. But she’s also much more. And who is that fucking woman who had her arm around her?
* * *
Physical chemistry is a strange phenomenon. It’s as if your body no longer belongs to you, but is owned by someone else who calls it like a siren, day and night, never letting up and keeping you in a state of euphoria and unrest, alternating with anxiety and irritability.
August was drawing to a close. Levade hadn’t returned, and I couldn’t stay away. I walked to the Point almost daily and was always disheartened because I saw no sign of her. Why would she be staying in Pine City? Or had she driven there from Duluth for her meeting with Frank? Should I go back and try to find her?
On this particular, sunny morning, I ran into Sheriff Sam out on the Point. He had Levade’s dogs with him.
“Noticed you come over here quite a bit,” he said by way of greeting and tipped his cowboy hat. I liked the fact that he was his own man and chose a cowboy hat over a Northwood’s ball cap.
“It’s pretty over here” was the best I could muster.
“I sometimes trailer Alizar for her, feed him his grain when she’s not here, and check on him, put him in at night. If they’re gone, then I kind of use that time to get things in shape. Lotta horse manure in these parts,” he said, kicking pine needles out of his way unnecessarily.
“You can say that again,” and I figured Sam knew I was referencing the human kind. “I bet her horse misses her when she’s not here,” I said, meaning I did. “And you take care of her dogs too.”
“Charlie and Duke are my dogs. When she’s out here, I have these two stay with her, just in case.” Just in case seemed to include everything Sam feared and couldn’t talk about. “Besides, I got six more at home.” He laughed, and it dawned on me that Sam had an almost familial fondness for Levade that went beyond the role of caretaker.
“Lots of pretty places to walk…” He seemed to want a better answer about what I was doing there.
“None where I might get lucky and run into a beautiful white horse, but unfortunately not today.” I kept my eyes on the ground like I’d found something interesting to look at. “So how did you get this assignment?”
“I’ve known Levade’s family for forty years. When I was a young man, Angelique befriended me. That’s how I knew Levade, who was just a kid herself, and everywhere we went, Angelique would make me promise that I’d take care of her. She was always into something.” He laughed, obviously enjoying the memories. “Anyway, Levade knows her horse is safe if I’m keeping everything shipshape for him. There’s a six-stall barn out back that her aunt used to keep her horses in, but nowadays I store the hay there, plus the tractor and some tack. Lock it all up, of course. And her aunt created a big dirt arena back there, where she worked her horses, so I keep that cleared and dragged for Levade and Alizar.”
“Will Alizar be coming back here?”
“I sure hope so.” He seemed surprised I would ask.
“Sam, tell me about Frank. I just can’t seem to get what happened to his wife out of my mind.”
“Not much to tell really. It’s all just out there in the open.”
“You mean that a killer roams free and everybody knows about him? I’m sure you know a lot more than that.”
Sam puffed his cheeks up and then slowly let the air out, deflated like a balloon after the party. “Could have been an accident. He took her hunting, and Dolores was an animal lover. He said he went to shoot a wolf, and she shouted ‘no,’ and she jumped in front of the animal just as he pulled the trigger. Frank’s so damned odd, it’s hard to know how much is kinky and how much is killer.”
“Levade seems to be afraid of him and wants me to stay away from him.”
“That’s not bad advice.” His voice was upbeat. “Gotta get to work. See you on my next round.” Sam strode off, climbed into his truck, and drove away.
“Alizar.” I spoke his name into the air as if he were here. “Talk to me. Levade said you communicate. Tell me what’s going on. I wouldn’t tell this to anyone else, Alizar, but I miss her terribly.”
A breeze blew in off the lake and shook the pine boughs overhead. The needles quivered and rustled like the voluminous taffeta skirt of a woman who couldn’t quite get settled in her chair. Then a powerful gust of wind followed, blowing my hair into my eyes. Storms blew up quickly on the lake, so I decided I’d better get back home.
As I walked by the long porch, the card tucked into the screen blew off. I don’t know why I chased it, but I couldn’t bear to have anything she’d touched be lost. I snatched it off the ground and turned it over in my hand. On the backside, she’d written, “Late Saturday.” The L looked like the L on the postcard at my cabin. I was overjoyed to know that’s when she would be back. I glanced up at the sky, thanking someone, or something, for the encouragement.
* * *
I was waiting on the porch when Levade returned. She jumped slightly, obviously startled to see me.
“How did you know I was coming back tonight?” She looked weary and spoke absently, as if not mentally present but preoccupied with thoughts of something else.
“I found your note.”
She examined the card and the writing that said “Saturday Late,” and smiled. “This side isn’t my handwriting.”
That registered as a strange thing to say, but all that mattered was her presence. She was back.
“I drove to Duluth and watched you perform. You were absolutely brilliant!”
“I got your note, and it meant a lot. I thought you might come over.”
You could have called me, and I would have been there in a heartbeat. Why didn’t you call me? “I didn’t want to interrupt. I also thought I might be a little difficult to explain to your horse crowd…like the tall woman who put her arm around you and walked you to the concession stand and then took you out for dinner.”
She smiled in spite of herself. “Ah, the jealous type.”
“That has not been my trademark. You were spectacular! Why didn’t you tell me you were competing? I had to find out about the show in the frozen-food section at Muskie Market, for God’s sake,” I teased.
She smiled and shrugged. “I don’t really like for anyone to know where I am.”
“You mean Frank. Threatening Alizar was so horrible and unthinkable. Would he really do something like that to such a beautiful animal?”
“To the animal I love…to the people I love.”
“Knowing that, why would you even meet with him at the coffee shop?”
“I told you my mother died. I was in town to sort out some of her things. I ran into Frank on the street, and he said he had something important to tell me.” She sounded a bit irritable.
I wanted to believe her, but I didn’t. She’s seeing someone, maybe the equestrian woman in Duluth, I thought. Why not? We’re not “seeing” each other. In fact, this moment felt awkward, as if I’d arrived when she had other plans or something else to do.
“Is Sasquatch doing okay? Do you want me to take him?” she asked.
“No, he’s fine. He’s safe with me. He’s actually good company.” I knew it was crazy, but I felt that if I had her cat, I had a connection to her, and I didn’t want to lose that connection.
After an awkward pause, she finally said, “Do you want to come in?”
Her question had an obligatory tone that seemed to say, since you won’t leave, would you like to come in.
I’ve spent too long feeling bad about relationships, I thought. I’m not going to continue doing it. I have more pride than that. She may be a brilliant horsewoman, but I make a living in the toughest city in the world. I need to get a grip here.
“Actually, no. I just wanted to say I won’t be available much. I’m sorry for the loss of my gender-compass. It’s clear that I’m straight and—”
“No one’s anything—straight, gay, bi, whatever.” She sounded like she was schooling a child,
“Well, I know what I am.”
“In another place and time, I would show you what you are,” she said, and in her eyes, I saw a longing, clearly a desire, yet a sadness, and I felt she had made a decision to pull away from me. “Good night, Taylor.” She spoke quietly and went inside.
That non-breathing, fuzzy-headed, weak-kneed feeling washed over me. I turned to walk home just as a car pulled into her drive.
I hate spying. Yet I stepped behind a large tree, hidden by its girth. It was Casey, the young girl from the drugstore. My mind raced. Was Levade seeing young girls? After all, Casey said she thinks Levade is hot. That very thought made me think less of myself. This kind of insane behavior is exactly why I need to move along, get completely away from this woman.
Skinny and nervous, Casey walked onto the porch steps, looking back over her shoulder as if demons were following her. She sat down at a small table, and Levade joined her, their heads inclined toward one another as if they were having a secret conversation. Levade lit three candles, and the glow cast an eerie shadow over their faces. After several minutes, Levade took out her tarot deck, and they bent their heads once again over the table as they whispered, staring at the cards.
After she’d finished the reading, Levade made a rapid motion with her hands as if dusting them off in the air. Casey reached into her pocket, I assumed to pay Levade, but it appeared she handed her something instead, something small. I couldn’t tell what it was, but I hoped it wasn’t some personal girl-crush gift. Casey left hurriedly, and a tiny part of me was glad Levade hadn’t turned her hand over and touched her palm, as she had mine.
Sass was waiting for me when I got home. He smacked up against me, and it felt good to have someone who was truly glad to see me and wanted to sleep with me, even if he was shedding.