Penthesilea's Wish [Vol.1]

Chapter Two

Much later that afternoon, back on the slopes of Mt. Tamalpais, Daniela observed the dying light. While enjoying the trail switchbacks with Baylor, she now fought the urgency to leave the foothills—though there was something inside her which wanted to remain in that magical woodland forever. Off to the left, ten or fifteen meters away, she caught the sight of a fallen tree, downed from one of the many Pacific coastal storms which plow through the headlands in the winter. She visualized a long, graceful jump with Baylor, clearing the tree's trunk and the few dead branches which gave the obstacle the appearance of a carcass belonging to some imaginary beast.

It would be a gamble, she knew, as her young horse was only used to clearing artificial jump gates back at the club. It had been many months now since Daniela had lost interest in practicing for those formal equestrian jumping events she so enjoyed as a young girl. But then there was so much more these days she had lost interest in—things and events from her less complicated youth and the carefree times before her graduation from the university. They were all just too distant to her needs now. Too elementary as experiences. Was it all just going to be work now, and the sad memories of freer days? Would there ever be any new game-changing events in her life? The dismal prospects of this depressed her as she contemplated her return to work in the morning and the present dying of the light.

She approached the downed tree at a trot. She wanted Baylor to comprehend her intentions, to let him feel the parameters of the jump. The horse was insecure as he neared the obstacle and could sense Daniela's willfulness to jump it. He threw his head up, twitched his ears and stammered sideways with his powerful legs. He then whinnied angrily. In his own uncertainty and defiance Baylor threatened to rear up as she insisted with her heels. His second loud protest shattered the quiet of the clearing. An owl or some other predator bird cried out in the distance in response. The horse was adamant not to comply. Baylor as a simpler creature comprehended no reason to take the risk of a jump here, so far out in the wilderness. And Daniela began to sense in herself a familiar weakness of spirit to further command him. It became disturbing to her that, like so much in her present life, she felt so incapable of controlling him or anything else.

Quickly, she aborted all efforts to convince the animal otherwise with her leg signals and firm pressure on his bit through the reigns. She too, saw the challenge now for all its risks instead of any aesthetic joy it would have given them both. The idea of being so isolated with the prospect of injury either to her or Baylor had become too real, too prohibitive.

Daniela pulled his head strongly to the left in a homeward direction. She pressed her heels firmly into his flanks and loosened the reins in her own disappointment. Baylor seemed now too happy to comply. They accelerated to a gallop, navigating through the switchbacks and narrow paths to the more familiar fence-lined trails. Onward still, they cantered across the earlier trails to the manicured polo grounds of the Waverly Equestrian Club, just as nightfall set in.

Once at the club entrance Daniela dismounted stiffly. She led her horse by the reigns around the stable complex hurriedly in a cool-down before arriving at the paddock. As she entered the wooden structure she noticed that all of the eight other horses in the bungalow had been returned to their stalls for the night. As she placed him into his cubicle, Baylor drank water voraciously from his trough. She removed his saddle and bridle deftly. She toweled him off with a slow rhythm to calm the animal further down. Baylor's breathing had returned to a soft deep cadence. She slipped his thermal sleeping cover over his back while talking softly to him.

He was silent now, obviously exhausted from the day's ambitious ride, and Daniela pated his neck soundly and kissed him on his flat, hard cheek. With a last caress to his round hindquarter she tightly cinched the night cover one last time and closed the gate of the stall.