Chapter 2 Navarre's

Sirona and Jamie travel to Phillipe Navarre's horse farm in Sao Paolo Brazil where all is NOT what it seems

 

Chapter 2 Navarre’s

 

The majestic Parana pines towered at the roads very edge.  Branches whorled their way upward to interlace high overhead, and stippled the narrow winding road in a pattern of shadow and light.  A soft breeze ruffled the leaves of the smaller Mate’ trees and the brushy undergrowth, and raised an earthy fragrance from the red clay forest floor.  The scent of the forest mingled with the unfamiliar noises of the colorful jungle birds and filtered through the open windows of the silver Nissan.  The driver cursed as he sharply braked the car to a stop as the road came to an abrupt tee. “Damn it!”

 

I awoke, groaned, lifted my head and stretched my sweat dewed arms. Lifting my heavy moisture laden hair from my back, I began my ritual twisting of the long golden strands as I turned towards the driver.  “Jamie, do you want to take a break and let me drive for awhile?  You’ve been driving since we picked the car up. You’ve done all the driving to the farms we’ve visited in the past 3 days.  You have to be exhausted!”

 

“Damn it Sirona, I’d be fine if we’d managed to get a vehicle with working air-conditioning!” He growled,   “Who ever heard of rental cars in a country as hot and humid as Brazil not having working air conditioning?”

 

I finished twisting and folding my hair at the crown of my head and pinned it there with a large banana clip.  I brushed the unruly tendrils that clung to my face as I turned to Jamie.  “Hey, it’s not my fault that it happens to be the height of the tourist season down here and the AC puked half an hour after we got the car.”  Taking a deep breath of the moisture-laden air I continued, “It wasn’t my idea to drive from Rio to Sao Paulo.” I rolled my eyes, reached under my seat and brought out a package of hand wipes.  Pulling one, out I offered it to Jamie.  He snatched it from my hand and began scrubbing his sweat-dampened face.  “Good grief, Jamie I’d swear you must live and work in Alaska or some other cold state!  How do you survive training horses in Scottsdale?”  I peered through the black fringe of my lashes at him as I scrubbed at my own face with a wipe.

 

I took the wipe from him and put it with my own in the used fast food bag left over from our earlier lunch.  The sight of it made my stomach start to growl.  “I am starved!  How far to the next village?”

 

Jaime’s voice softened as he reached out to brush my cheek and tucked a strand of hair behind my left ear and said, “You’re always hungry.  I don’t understand how you eat like a horse and stay as slim as you are.”  He playfully tickled my ribs.

 

I slowly tried to work the kinks out of my back and neck, half laughing at myself for spending any time this morning doing my hair and make up.  The time would have been better spent in bed.  We had so little actual time together since we started seeing each other during the Buckeye show last May.  With Jamie working as head trainer in Scottsdale for Autumn Sumner and my working at Anzeh’s in Michigan, it made the relationship really tough and even harder was the need to be secretive.  Autumn was a very temperamental employer, but she has one of the best show strings in the country and paid Jamie very well.

 

A headache niggled at the back of my head, so I raised my hands with strong, slender fingers, nails clipped short, to the back of my neck.  I groaned as I massaged out the kinks caused by my unnatural sleeping position.  “Where are we?”

 

“Here where we turn to Navarre’s place.  Did ya have a nice nap?”  Jamie propped his arm on the armrest after putting the car back into gear and made a left turn onto the private road.  “I am really surprised you slept on that last so called bit of road.  I thought it was going to shake this bucket of bolts apart.  I still can’t figure out how you found the only car in the tropics with out AC,” he snorted a short laugh as he shook his head.

 

“Come on now, you know the original plan was for us both to just to come down to Sao Palo for a few days. Then I could have had someone from Navarre’s to come pick me up.”  I rolled my eyes and in a wicked sounding voice said, “But NO, your Royal-Hind-A*s decides because you wanted to vacation in Brazil, she’d turn it into a ‘working’ vacation’ for you no matter what you wanted.  That woman is truly a b***h!”  I blew out a large sigh of exasperation as I leaned back in my seat. 

 

“Yeah, I know.  I am going to have a talk with her when I get back.” Jamie masterfully maneuvered the car on the narrow road. Even though it was mid-day the forest floor was gloomy.  “I want real vacation days where I don’t have to look at, or think about a horse unless I want to.  Autumn’s demands are becoming too much.  If I have a good year at Nationals I’m going to put feelers out to other farms.”  Jamie flashed a slight smile with perfect white teeth and a slight twinkle in his sea green eyes.

 

“As long as it is closer to Michigan, plaaeeeezzee!”  I rubbed my eyes, and then turned to look at Jamie.  Hesitantly, I reached out and touched his bulging bicep that glistening with moisture and gave it a burnished bronze look.  This man that I had become so fond of was muscular in a true athlete’s way.  His muscles were earned by the work he did, not by going to a gym and playing with weights and machines.  Stroking his forearm I contemplated what I knew about Jamie’s employer. With concern, I said, “Do you think she has any idea we are seeing each other?”

 

The narrow paved road twisted and turned down the steep incline.  The Nissan wound its way snake like through the tunnel of the huge trees that enveloped the land in a green damp dripping canopy.

 

“I sure as hell hope not, otherwise she’ll make my life a living hell when I get back.”  Jamie shuddered.  “She doesn’t take no for an answer very well.  I suppose I could always sue her for sexual harassment!”  His laugh had an uneasy tone and shook his head at the idea.

 

I didn’t join in the laughter. I just quietly stared at him. He asked, “What’s the matter?”

 

“You may not be that far off with the harassment suit.  How much do you know about Jim Knowell?”

 

“Autumn’s trainer a few years ago?  God, he was great.  He was a super competitor and a good honest show judge.”

 

“Yea, that’s the one I mean” I replied.  “I knew him from when I was a kid.  We both took riding lessons from Kerny Fitzpatrick.  We were fairly good friends.”

 

Jamie slammed on the brakes as they hit another sharp curve in the road, and stopped the car to turn to look at me with eyes like saucers. “My God Sirona, you took lessons from Fitzpatrick?”

 

“Yea,”

 

“You do mean the Saddlebred trainer, right?”

 

“Uh, yea.  Why are you acting like this is some big deal?”  I felt lost by Jamie’s intense interest in my old neighbor.  “Kerny had retired and moved back to his family farm which was next to our place.  He helped pick out my first 3 horses and gave me lessons until he had his stroke.”

 

“You don’t have any idea of who Kerny really was?” Jamie carefully let off on the brake and started down the steep and winding road

 

“Well, hell yes! He was a good horseman, and he was like a drill sergeant! That man demanded perfection.  I remember him making me mount and dismount a sixteen and a half hand horse from both sides with an English saddle and NO girth.  I was only twelve years old!   Thank god, I was already five foot nine, or I’d never have been able to reach the stirrup!  I don’t even want to think of how many times I ended up with my a*s in the dirt. He then made me ride without a girth on both his 5 gaited mare and my Arab gelding.  Boy did I collect more than a few bruises then.   The old buzzard even made me drop my reins and ride patterns all girth-less too.”

 

“Damn, no wonder you sit a horse like you are a part of it.” Jamie said with admiration. “You know he is a legend, like Helen Crabtree!”

 

“Wow, he was tough and I resented him occasionally, but I really loved that old guy.  He was like a surrogate grandfather seeing both of mine were long dead.  After Kearny’s stroke I used to go sit with him every day for a couple of hours and listen to him tell stories.  Sometimes I thought he was making up tales or fantasies to amuse me.  When he died, in his will he left me a full bridle all boxed up in this really ornate wooden box.  I still have it under my bed at home.”

 

“Was there a name on that box, Sirona?”

 

“Yes, but I don’t remember the name right now.  It was something military”

 

“Was it Wings of War?” Jamie quietly asked

 

“Uhh…Yea, how the hell did you know that?”

 

“Sirona, do you realize you took riding lessons from one of the most legendary Saddlebred horse, uh correct that to be most legendary English trainers to have ever lived?  He had more World champions than any of the next three best trainers combined.”

 

“Ummn… ah, no.”

 

“Do you know what that box with that bridle in it is worth?”

 

“Not a clue!  I wouldn’t sell it anyway.  Kerny gave it to me.  If I ever have a kid who is interested in horses it would go to them, or I’d give it to the Kentucky Horse Park Museum in Lexington.”

 

“Sirona, when you get home, take that box to a bank and get in put into a safety deposit box and do not tell anyone else about it, OK?”

 

“OK.”

 

“I have to ask why didn’t you ever mention who you learned to ride from him before?”

 

I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess because you never asked.” I squirmed in my seat.  “How much longer?  I am starved, and need to pee!”

 

“Well, I could let you out and you could use one of those trees, but it is hard to tell what might be out there that might eat, bite, sting or shoot you.  You want to chance it?”

 

I looked out at the towering, brooding trees, and listened to the strange sounds and felt a small shiver between my shoulders, with the fleeting childhood nightmares teasing at the edge of my memory.  “I’ll cross my legs for 5 more minutes then it will be desperation.”  With the old night time terrors trying to gain a stronger foothold, I decided a change of topic was in order.  “We did get off subject a bit there- with Kerny.  Jamie, what do you know about Jim Knowells?”

 

“Just that he worked for Autumn about 5 years ago.”

 

“You’ve never heard any of the rumors or any scuttlebutt?”

 

“No”

 

“Jim talked to me about Autumn.  Did you know that they had an affair?”

 

“Really?  You’ve got to be kidding.”

 

‘Yeah.  He tried to break it off.  She threatened to fire him, and said she’d make sure no one in the Arabian circuit would ever hire him.  The last time I talked to him he said he was going to quit and to hell with her threats.  He said he could always train Saddlebreds or Morgans.”

 

“So is that what he is doing now?”

 

“I don’t know.  I’ve tried to find him on all the breed show circuits and it’s like he fell off the map.  I hope he’s just decided to go to a different country or get out of horses altogether.  The alternative is scarier.”  I looked at Jamie with a trace of fear hardly suppressed from my eyes.  “I know Jim thought he’d a way of handling Autumn, but that woman gives me the creeps.  I’ve got to say that I’m glad we are finally done with the surprise farm visits she had you doing, and your crazy subterfuge of the past three days.”

 

“I know it’s been a pain in the a*s but, you know how the kind of pomp, presentation and the wine and dining these farms would have put on if they knew who I work for.  I just wanted to look at the critters with out the extra crap.  I just wanted to be seen as tourists, not truly interested in buying.”

 

“So do you have any horses in mind to recommend to her-hind-a*s?”   I reached over to twirl his sun-streaked locks just above his shirt collar.  “You know I love your hair longer like this?”  I grinned at him.

 

He snorted then shook his head at me.  He then began staring straight ahead at the road that seemed more of a tunnel through the trees. Jamie bit his lower lip for a second or two and then cocked his head at me.  “Yeah, two or three, maybe more after we take a look at Navarre’s horses.  The only problem is they know we are coming so they’ll have all their prospect all doctored up.”  Scratching his two-week-old beard, he said, “I don’t think I was recognized at any of the other farms, we’ll see how I fare here. Navarre’s people know you, so they maybe a little sharper.”

 

Shaking my head, I laughed and said, “I can’t believe that you haven’t been recognized yet.  Your picture has been in the magazines enough the past two years not to mention the cover of the World and Times just before Nationals last fall.  The beard and longer hair helps, plus wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, but I’d still know who you are.  Even if you put a bag over your head, the instant I saw you ride or school a halter horse, I’d know who you are.  Your body language is unique- totally all your own.”

 

“Well, hopefully they aren’t as observant as you are.” He said as he leaned over and kissed my cheek.

 

I twirled my fingers in his sun-streaked hair and then rubbed his whisker stubbled cheek. “ I kind of like the sexy semi shaven look on you. Are you going to keep it?” I chuckled.

 

“Ha!  Could you imagine what Autumn would say if I did?”

 

The image of his sex starved employer’s face as she tried to make demands of him made me burst into joyful peals of laughter.  I knew this man would never ever betray my trust… that way.

 

The private road suddenly widened when it rounded one of the countless bends and curves.  Trees and undergrowth had been carefully removed, and gave an appearance of spaciousness to the normally dense terrain.  Nestled in a valley in the distance, was an elaborate complex of low slung red brick buildings surrounded by a maze of white fence laid out in precise geometric lines.   As the Nissan crawled its way down the slope toward the sprawling buildings, the moving dots confined within the maze became distinguishable as horses frolicking in the late afternoon light.  Mares with small delicate foals at their sides grazed the short grass, as older foals leaped, cavorted and staged mock battles as tails waved like patriotic flags.  Necks arched eyes wide in feigned terror at the colorful birds that searched for insects in the paddocks, the foals raced exuberantly.

 

Rounding a bend, they stared at the scene that opened in front of the car.  “How the hell are we going to get through that?”  Jamie pointed to the huge black wrought iron gate flanked by a tall, red brick, razor wire topped fence.  As they stared at the ominous black gate, two large hulking figures seemed to magically appear on the other side of the gate’s flanks.

 

As Jamie halted the car at the locked gate, he leaned out the open driver side window and shouted at the two glowering men opposite them.  “We’re here to look at horses.” 

 

The two guards shouted angrily back across the barrier. “Go Away! Você não devia estar aqui, deixo-te ser-lhe-á um tiro!”  Their gestures were emphasized by the visible waving of guns. They definitely wanted us to leave. 

 

I leaned towards Jamie and placed my hand on his forearm and said, “Let me go see if I can talk to them before they decide to shoot us”

 

“Are you sure they won’t anyhow?”  A look of concern clouded his green eyes.  “I can’t understand a word they’re saying, but they don’t seem to want any visitors!”

 

I slowly opened the passenger door, swung my long, tanned, muscular legs out.  Fear gripped my throat as I attempted to emulate a sexy saunter towards the gate with both hands extended palms upward.  The two guards visibly seemed to relax and quit shouting, diverting their energy into devouring me with their eyes.

 

I gestured towards the horses and buildings below. "Eu fui enviado aqui por Cammeron Anzeh para pegar um cavalo, Dulcinea." Turning back towards the car, I pointed at Jamie.  "Meu companheiro gostaria de ver os cavalos. Faz favor? Phillipe Navarra nos disseram para vir hoje.”

The mention of Navarre’s name received an immediate reaction. One of the guards abruptly turned around with military precision and marched off down the hill.  He headed for a small grove of trees that had been spared when the farm was cleared. The second guard with a pock marked face, bulldog countenance, and predatory eyes looked at me as if he would like to drag me off into the wilds of the jungle.  Curious as to the other guard’s activities, I tried to search out his location while blocking from my mind the close proximity to the bestial guard just opposite the iron gate.  I was just barely able to make out the well concealed hut nestled in the grove of trees.  The door to the hut opened and the guard motioned for the gate to be opened.  Not wanting to be near this creature when the gate opened. I turned and sprinted back to the car. I flung myself into the seat and slammed the door closed.

 

“I think the guards didn’t get the message we were coming today so they’ve called up for instructions.”

 

Jamie slipped the car into gear as headed towards the opening in the gigantic gates.  “Did you ask the reason for the overkill on the fence, gate and armed guards?”

 

“No, those guards gave me the willies.  I wasn’t going to say anything to them that I didn’t have to.”

 

“Of all the places we’ve been to the past couple of days, this place gives me the creeps!” Jamie said with a small shudder.

 

“Why?”

 

“The creeps?” He asked.  I nodded, “It’s the way those two came rushing out of nowhere ready to do battle.  Damn place is too secluded. All the other farms have been more open and a lot closer to civilization.  It’s just this weird feeling.  It’s like we are being watched right now.”  Jamie said as he drove the car down the steep hill towards the elaborate complex of buildings and fencing.

 

In an attempt to distract him from his gloomy feelings I asked, “Do you think Autumn would actually buy any of the horses you recommend with out flying down herself for a personal look see?” 

 

He carefully maneuvered the car down the slope towards the buildings in the meticulously designed valley.  Sounding distracted, he said “hard telling, she’s so damn unpredictable.  It’ll depend upon her mood.  Just before I got on the plane to head down here, she followed me half way down the concourse blathering on about how I worked for her and that she was paying for this trip.  She implied that she would come with me if she thought I’d turn this into a pleasure trip.  God, that woman drives me nuts!  Christ, I had to reassure her that I wouldn’t have time for fun, if I went to all the damn farms on her list.”

 

He snickered, “You know I’ll have to start looking for a new job if she finds out that I came down here and spent time with you.  Damn, I am sick and tired of the two years of my life spent working for that horny b***h with never any real vacation time.  Sucks!”

 

“You could always file the sexual harassment suit...”

 

“Yeah...Right...She could afford one hell of a settlement, but... hell who’d believe me?”

 

I turned towards him to see him more fully and said “I would.”  The car came to a fork in the driveway.  “I wonder which of these buildings we are supposed to stop at…”  I narrowed my eyes trying to detect any discernable activity.  “There” I pointed at the sprawled out but elegant, red brick, white trimmed building with an intricate stained glass insets depicting horses cavorting in the heavy front doors.  “That looks like it may be the office.”  Jamie eased the car up beside some brilliantly flowering bushes edging the flagstone walkway set in the immense green velvet lawn.  There was not a plant out of place, not a stone where it did not belong, grass so soft and thick that it beaconed for one to lay down on it and sleep a perfect sleep.

 

As the car came to a halt, a lean dark skinned man opened one of the ornate doors.  With the grace of a jungle cat, he sauntered to the car as Jamie and I climbed out.  The man pumped Jamie’s hand in a vigorous handshake.  "Bem-vindo, eu sou Luciano Mendes, gerente de exploração Philippe Navarra, proprietário da Fazenda Navarra. Espero que o seu problema no portão não perturbar-lhe muito.”  He said in Portuguese.

 

Jamie did not have the foggiest idea of what was said to him, so I hurried around the front of the car.  Approaching Mendez with my hand out stretched I said, “Olá, eu sou Sirona Juracetys, e este é o meu amigo Senor James. Estou Cammeron Anzeh do formador, aqui para pegar Dulcinea, e meu amigo gostaria de ver qualquer cavalos que você pode ter para venda. Meu companheiro não fala Portugues.” I introduced myself and informed Mendez of Jamie’s inability to speak the language.

 

Mendez turned back to Jamie and said in his heavily accented English, “I am sorry, I did not realize that you are not familiar with our language.  I am Luciano Mendez.  I manage this farm for Philippe Navarre.  I understand that you would like to see some of our horses, before this fine lady leaves with Dulcinea.”

 

“Yea, I may be in the market for a new horse or two in the near future.”

 

“Are you looking for yourself, a client,” Mendez mischievously grinned, “or an employer?”

 

Jamie shot an inquiring look over Mendez’s shoulder to me.

 

“I realize that the fazendas you have been visiting, you have used the name Mr. James.”  Turning towards me, he added, “She did not tell me your real name.  As soon as I saw you, I recognized you from your photo in the The Times.  I will use that name, if you prefer?”  Mendez cocked his black haired head at Jamie.

 

“Please do,” Jamie replied.

 

“I told you someone would eventually recognize you,” I scolded as he scowled at me.

 

 

Mendez turned and beckoned us to follow him to one of the numerous red tiled roofed barns as he explained the farms operations.  I begged to use the facilities before Mendez took us to the broodmare barns. At these beautifully appointed barns he took several mares with their spindly legged foals out of their stalls.  Grooms lead the mares with their foals tagging along to a large white fenced pasture.  There they ran and played with their babies in the afternoon sun.

 

Eventually the three of us made our way through the huge double row low slung barns that housed the young horses, and the horses in training.  I was relieved when they finally arrived at the much anticipated stallion barn.  Mendez opened with a flourish the large beautifully carved doors at the south end of the barn and reveled a long double row of richly appointed stalls flanking the cobblestoned alley way.  “These doors, the stalls and the fixtures all are made by local craftsmen.  The wood comes from trees that have been cleared from this land to make room for new coffee plantings.”  He said while gesturing towards beautifully made stalls topped with polished vertical bars.  Finely wrought light fixtures with hand etched glass globes doted the ceiling above the freshly swept alley. Rolled leather halters with brass engraved name plates attached hung from each stall door by an ornately decorated horseshoe-shaped hanger.

 

Pulling the latch on the first stall he came to, Mendez said “I’d like to show you our Brazilian National Champion stallion, Nebuchadnezzar,” as he disappeared with in the spacious stall.  From the depths of the stall he added, “This is the stallion Dulcinea is bred to.”

 

“He was last years champion, right?” Jamie queried

 

“No. He was Reserve Champion last year.+  Mendez called from the depths of the stall.  “He would have won, but he had not fully recovered from his trip to the USA.  But this year he showed as if he owned the Parque de Aqua Funda.  Have you ever been to our Nationals?” Mendez asked both his guests in his heavily accented English.

 

Standing just outside of the stall door, I looked at Jamie who shook his head.  “No, neither one of us has had the pleasure.  I did hear that many of your Brazilian farms like to import American trainers for the show.” 

 

I turned and grinned at Jamie.  “Maybe one day you will be invited by one to exhibit there.”

 

“I’ve heard that your shows are quite lively,” Jamie lightheartedly added.

 

Mendez shoved the heavy stall door back, and stepped out backwards gently tugging on the leather lead line.  Cautiously the magnificent head with luminous eyes emerged from the stall. The stallion’s finely sculpted nostrils quivered as he tested the air.  “Ah, errr, that is a bit of an understatement, Mr.  ummm James.  I am very familiar with the American shows from the time Senor Navarre sent me to the States for training.  Our national show is quite different from yours in several ways.”  Mendez continued to coax the stallion fully into the alley where he posed the horse in a distinctly American way.

 

Jamie began to walk around the horse in a manner of an experienced horseman, to examine the well muscled solid bay stallion.  Sunlight glinted off the silky hide giving the hair a coppery sheen.  The stallion danced the ritualistic dance of the American show ring, on the end of the lead with his long snaky neck arched with pride.  “How are they different?” Jamie asked.

 

“More relaxed.  The people are friendlier,” Mendez nodded at Jamie as he circled behind the stallion.  “Most who attend are in a very festive rather than competitive mood.  Not that we are not highly competitive, but we seem to take it in a more playful manner.”

 

Jamie bent down to examine the horse’s hocks and rear feet.  The stallion stomped a front foot in impatience.  Mendez snapped the whip he held in his right hand high over head to remind the stallion of his manners.

 

I tore my eyes off of one of the most beautiful stallion I’ve ever seen to ask, “Can we see him move?”  Mendez whistled a high pitched chirp to a man standing at a distance down the barn.  The small dark man hurried to Nebuchadnezzar’s head and led him off to the grooming area in the middle of the barn.  There he carefully wrapped the horse’s front legs with protective polo bandages.

 

“Jose will bring him out to the stallion’s turn out pen.  While we are waiting, would you like to see Anzeh’s mare?  Our quarantine barn is on the way.”

 

Strolling our way across a wide field of lush calf high grass I asked, “Is Mr. Navarre here at the fazenda?”

 

“No he is in Santos at the coffee exchange.  He splits his time between Sao Paulo, Santos and here.”

 

As we crossed a taller stretch of grass, I saw a quick furtive movement at the boarder of the field and jungle.  The movement started me and I fiercely grabbed Jamies sinuous forearm.  “Eeee!”

 

“What’s the matter?” Jamie asked as he peeled my pressure whitened fingers off of his forearm.  “Boy I am glad you don’t have long nails!”

 

“What the hell is that!” I tried to squeak out.

 

Both men turned to where I pointed.  “What?”

 

“Where?”

 

“Over there, past that tall grass near the trees.”  I felt the blood drain from my face.  My hand trembled as I pointed at a spot nearly a hundred yards away.

 

“What did you see, Senorita?”

 

I shook my head in confusion, knowing that if I told these two men what I thought I’d seen, they would think I was nuts.  “Ah, I’m not… totally sure.  It looked like a really gross deformed monkey—ah more like an ape with a hideous face.”  In reality the creature that had briefly flitted from the trees looked like a cross between a man, wolf and ape. It reminded me of my childhood nightmares that happened after I became lost one afternoon in the jungle near my grandmother’s fazenda. If I had been in Africa, I’d have been likely to have thought it was some sort of weird baboon, but much larger and bipedal.

 

“I don’t see a thing,” Jamie squinted at the distance after pushing his sunglasses on the top of his cap.

 

Mendez burst out laughing.  “Ah, Miss, I think you have seen our local legend of the chupacabra or lobinsomen.”

 

“What?  Are you kidding?  A Mexican Goat sucker here?  You have to be kidding!”  I whirled in frustration towards Mendez.

 

“What in the hell are you talking about, Sirona?” Jamie now grabbed my arm and spun me back towards him.

 

Mendez asked me, “Shall I explain?”

 

Deflated, my shoulders fell and I gestured, why not.

 

Mendez stated with mirth still brightening his eyes.  “Mr. James, the chupacabra is a legend of a creature that is said to inhabit the Americas.  The name is Spanish and it means ‘goat sucker’.  In other words it is a vampire that usually attacks goats, sheep and other small animals.  It usually attacks during dusk, night and early morning.  Sometimes it kills its prey, others it just wounds.  People have reported seeing this creature for a very long time, especially through out Central and tropical South America.  Even in the records of the conquistadores there is mention of this mysterious creature with many different names for it.  Others say the creature is supposed to be a lobinsomen”

“What is a lobinsomen?” Jamie asked perplexed.

 

“You have to be kidding right?” I couldn’t believe my ears.  The first I’d ever heard of the lobinsomen was when I read Stephanie Meyers ‘Rising Sun’, but it was called a libinsomen.  I shook my head and snorted at the idea of this.  I had never once heard of this particular ‘creature’ on my extended visits to Nana Maria’s.

 

“Ah, it is supposed to be a being that, with a bite, can create a vampire or werewolf.  The lobinsomen is a shape shifter.  The church calls them succubae and incubi, or just demons.”

 

“Is this a real creature or is it like ‘Big Foot’?” Jamie asked with incredulity shining in his eyes.

 

“No, sir.  I do not believe that it is real.  No one has ever captured a live or dead chupacabra.  It is a legend, a myth, like that of the werewolf.  It is used to scare young children and women from straying to far in to our jungles.”  Mendez grinned at me as I shivered in the warm cloying heat, as he strode past me.

 

Jamie wrapped a strong arm around my waist and continued to walk towards the quarantine barn.  “Let it go, Sirona.”  He whispered to me as a small shudder ran down my back.

 

“What I saw was real, not a figment of my imagination.”  I hissed low enough so that Mendez would not hear.  “There is something out there, I can feel it.”

 

“Shhh.  I know.  I feel it too.  I told you this place give me the creeps.”

 

I whispered to Jamie, “I’ve seen something like that before.  I’m not delusional!”   I hissed.

 

“Let’s just finish up with the horses and get out of here.  Ok?”  His eyes pleaded with me.

 

“Ok.”

 

“Here we are.” Mendez said as he drew to a halt in front of an earthy brick and tile building.  “We hold all of the horses before exportation in this barn.  We are lucky to have one of the few licensed quarantine facilities here in the state of Sao Paulo,” he proudly boasted as he opened the door.

 

“You will need to put these on.”  He handed Jamie and me some plastic disposable boot covers as we stepped inside the wide white vestibule of the huge quarantine barn.  “Our facility is considered one of the very best quarantine systems in the world.”  We then passed through the second set of doors that opened into a large brightly light indoor arena.

 

“Come,” Mendez led the way to a smaller door set in the middle of the long Parana Pine paneled wall.  Mendez slid opened the heavy door, and took us down the alley formed by the two rows of luxurious stalls, which seemed to be a standard accommodation for the horses at Fazenda Navarre.

 

“This is Dulcinea’s stall.”  We peered into the stall and saw that it was vacant.  Mendez muttered, “I will have to find out where she is,” as he stalked away from us down the long alley.

 

“Quite a spread isn’t it?” Jamie pulled me into and enfolded me in his gentle embrace.

 

“Yeah, I always though of Cam’s place as pretty damn fancy, but this,” I gestured to the surroundings, “is over the top.”  I sniffed, “it doesn’t even smell like a barn.  Smells more like citrus fruit.  Must be the shavings they use.” 

 

Jamie released me from his arms as Mendez trotted back down the alley way.  “The veterinarian is working on Dulcinea, so we will come back here after watching the stallion.”  He began to herd us out of the barn and across the grassy stretches of field towards the stallion turn out pens.

 

“Is Dulcinea alright?”  The thought of the sweet gentle mare that my friend and boss had spent a small fortune on, being sick, injured or dead made me sick to my stomach.

 

“She is fine.  She will be trucked to the airport in a few hours.  Your flight leaves Garulhos at 6:30 tomorrow morning.  Be sure to be there by 5:30.”

 

I groaned.  “I’d hoped it would be a little later in the day.  Jamie and I’d hoped to take in some more sights tonight in the city.”

 

By the time we got to the stallion pen, the groom was swinging open the white PVC gate.  He handed the leather lead shank to Mendez, who then strode to the center of the round pen as the groom closed the gate.  Mendez stopped to pose the stallion in the classic halter pose for Arabian horses.  The horse’s body slightly quivered with nervous anticipation.  As Mendez stepped into the stallion, the horse rocked his weight backwards onto his hind legs.  When Mendez took a step backwards the horse leaned towards him with a swan-like arched neck.  With a final back and forth dance, the stallion swished his thick long black tail in irritation.  Mendez asked the horse to stand, and he slowly pulled the halter off the horse’s head.  The stallion reared, spun on his hind legs and rocketed away.  In joyous exhilaration for his freedom, he kicked his heels up in the air and raced around the fence of the round pen.  Neck arched, nostrils flaring, strutting with confidence and delight, this beautiful animal showed the world that he was the king of his domain.

 

“Wow,” I sighed to Jamie.  “I think I understand now why Cam went to the bother of shipping Dulcinea all the way down here!  He is absolutely gorgeous and perfect for her.”

 

I could see by Jamie’s face that we were in agreement.  “I wouldn’t mind showing him at Nationals.”  He replied.

 

The stallion floated around the pen consumed by his all encompassing excitement of freedom, totally ignoring his human onlookers.  Finally he took one mad dash across the pen and headed at full blast directly towards Jamie and me.  For the merest fraction of a second it looked as if he would either crash right into the fence or would be forced to leap the five foot high obstacle.  In a split second, he threw on the brakes and skidded in a sliding stop with his muzzle directly in my face.  I could not hold my delighted laugh in and reached up to touch his finely carved muzzle.   The stallion sniffed my face and then blew an enormous snort onto my chest.

 

Jamie chucked, “Looks like he admires you as much as you do him.”  He reached out to lightly slap the stallion on his neck.  Nebuchadnezzar blew what seemed to my ears to be an exasperated sigh, then whirled away to chase the shadows now criss crossing the arena.

 

“I think we will leave him out here in Jose’s care for awhile,” Mendez said.  “Shall we go back and see Dulcinea?”

 

We followed him back to the quarantine barn, where we donned the new foot covers and went to Dulcinea’s stall.  This elegant aristocratic mare seemed to be dozing in her stall.  She finally lifted her exquisitely molded head and pricked her delicate ears when I called her name. “Hey Dulci, are you going to come and see me girl?”  I cooed to her.  This mare, which looked as if she had been created by the gods, finally sighed and strolled across the stall to the barred stall door.  I reached down to flip the security latch up and slide the door open, when Mendez grabbed my forearm so quickly that I let out a gasp.  “What the hell! “ I yelped.

 

“No, I think she should rest Senorita Juracetys,” Mendez scolded with his hand still tightly curled around my arm.  “She is going to have a very long day tomorrow.”

 

I pulled my arm back and had to yank it out of his grasp.  “I am sorry, Senor Mendez. But, I AM going to look her over before we leave here today.”  I huffed.  “That’s why we came here.  To make sure she is in perfect condition before leaving this fazenda.” 

 

Mendez’s face glowered at me.  “No, look at her from here.  Let her rest!”  He spat.  At this I could see Jamie’s emerald green eyes narrow, a tin line set to his lips and his fists ball up.  I realized I needed to do something before this turned into a fist fight right here in the barn.

 

“Sir, if you DO NOT let me in the stall to inspect her as I have been directed by my employer and stated in the breeding contract, Anzeh’s will not authorize payment or this mare to be loaded on the plane tomorrow.”  I hissed.  I grabbed the latch and slammed the door open.  “Now get out of my way so I can do my job!”  I snatched the halter hanging at the center of the door and stamped my way by him.  Dulcinea blew gentle huffs into my face in recognition.  “Hey girl, how is my favorite horse been?  Did you miss me?”  I sung to her as I slipped the halter on.  “Good girl.  Yeah, I know, I didn’t bring you any treats.  I’m sorry.  You’ll get some when we get home.  That’s my good girl.”  I hugged her and patted her neck as she wrapped her head around me.  “Jamie, can you grab a lead for me.”  I decided to pay no heed to Mendez’s hulking form and  look of daggers.  I took a full sniff of Dulcinea’s warm glossy chestnut coat.  Something wasn’t right.  I sniffed again.  “Hmm, Jamie smell her.”

 

“What?”  He looked at me like I was nuts as he handed me the lead.

 

“Smell her.  She doesn’t smell right.” I snapped the lead on to the bottom ring of her halter.

 

“Are you nuts?” Jamie said incredulously.

 

“No, I mean it.  I know this is Dulcinea, but she doesn’t smell right.  Her smell is ‘off’.”

 

“Huh, since when do you go around sniffing your horses?”  He rolled his eyes at me.

 

“Ahhh, since ALWAYS.  Everyone of my horses smell differently, haven’t you ever noticed that?”

 

“Ummm, not really.  They smell like horses to me.”  He cocked his head to sniff.  “She smells like a horse,” he affirmed.

 

“Yeah, she smells like a horse, but she doesn’t smell like HER.” I jabbed a finger toward her neck.

 

“Well, maybe the fact that she is PREGNANT, and has been on different bedding and feed down here, makes her smell off to you.”  He stated matter of factly.

 

I though about that, and turned to Mendez sulking in the doorway.  “You have been feeding her our feed haven’t you?  I mean Cam went to a LOT of bother to get it through customs so she wouldn’t be on a different feed down here.”

 

“Yes, there is not much left.  Maybe she is different because she is in foal,” Mendez hurriedly added.

 

“I’ve never noticed any of the other mares smelling different when in foal.” I scowled at the 2 men.

 

Jamie seemed to be getting impatient with this discourse.  “Well, this IS Dulcinea, ISN’T it?”

 

“Yeh, but…”

 

“Ok, Sirona, let’s get her checked out so we can get back to civilization.  Pleeeaaazzze!” he pleaded with me in a pained expression.

 

“Alright.”  I blew a huff of exasperation.  “Here take her into the alley so I can get a good look at her.” 

 

Jamie led the mare into the alley.  Dulcinea whopped her done up tail several times back and forth as I followed her out of the stall.  He stood at her head talking to her as I ran my hands carefully down each finely wrought leg.  I palpated to feel for lumps, bumps and heat on these legs that I knew almost as well as I knew my own legs.  Standing after my inspection, I asked Jamie to trot the mare away and towards me to be sure that she was sound.  Mendez’s reluctance to let me inspect the mare, which I could not love more than if she were my own, had me baffled as she traveled sound.  The only thing I noticed was that she kept swishing her tail as if she was being bothered by a large horse fly.  Impossible in this virtually bug proofed barn enclosure.  Why didn’t he really want me looking at her?  I walked around her again and saw that she kept her tail slightly cocked to the side.  So I grabbed the vet wrapped covered folded braid in her tail and pulled it over.

 

“Why in hell is she caslicked?”  I shouted at Mendez.  The top part of the vulva had been sutured shut.  This is usually done in race mares that suck wind when breaking from the starting gate, or mares whose anatomical make up was such that she could contaminate herself with fecal material and aspirate it into the reproductive track.  Seeing Dulcinea’s conformation didn’t warrant this, nor was she racing, it was sheer frivolity to do this to her.  I was steamed!  “Mendez, what the hell is going on?”

 

“Our vet felt that it was a wise precaution to take because re-breeding her is so involved, and the distance she must travel plus Nebuchadnezzar semen doesn’t ship.”  The fabulous stallion we had seen earlier problems with freezing or shipping cooled semen, were known to just about every Arabian breeder in the USA.  If the stallion were still in the states all Arabian breeders knew that he would have a full to overflowing book each breeding season.

 

It was my turn to glower at Mendez.  “I am sure Ms. Anzeh would not have wanted to have this done.  There is no physical reason for it.” I protested.

 

“Well, it is done.  She can remove the sutures when the mare is safely home,” retorted Mendez while crossing his arms across his burly chest. 

 

I shot daggers at him, and was very glad to be leaving none too soon.  I snatched the lead from Jamie’s hand and lead the mare back into her immaculate stall.  “I’ll see you in the morning,” I whispered into her left ear as I unbuckled the crown piece of her halter.  I gave her a final pat, and strode out of the stall still seething.  “Let’s go.” I hissed to Jamie as I grabbed his arm to clomp off down the alley.

 

Mendez trailed after us all the way back to the car.  As I slid into the passenger seat he put a hand on the hood and leaned towards my open window and said, “Jorge will be accompanying the mare to the airport in the morning.  Do not forget to be there early, Ms. Juracetys.”

 

“I’ll be there,” I snarled.

 

He called goodbye as Jamie backed the Nissan away from the front of the office.  Neither of us felt like nor waved goodbye.

 

“I am glad to get out of there.”  Jamie sarcastically quipped.

 

“Yeah, something just isn’t right about this place.’

 

“You’re tellin me?”  He cocked an eye at me.

 

I had to laugh at the look he was giving me.  I gave him a big toothy grin and lightly socked his shoulder.  “Yeah, let’s get away from seeing ‘creatures’ from legends and creepy farm managers,” I giggled.  “Git ‘em up cowboy,” and leaned over to peck him on the cheek.

 

Author's Note

Please, if you are going to critique this, tell me what is wrong with it or areas that need to be improved. I DO NOT need to have my ego stroked! I need to know anything that would make this BETTER! Ok, PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! I'm now going to go down on my knees and beg, rip this piece apart!

I've made corrections suggested... Now. what do you think is going on in this story?

Reviews

[Daiku Maryu]

"I awoke, groaned, lifted my head and stretched my long lean arms." --like in the previous chapters: why is the narrator describing herself? Did she take a moment to look at her arms?

"I lifted my heavy moisture laden gold streaked tresses from my back and began my ritual twisting of my hair as I turned towards the driver."-- does anyone even think of their hair as tresses? Especially, after waking up? I think using that word in first person would require a different occassion.

"Sirona snorted and reached under my seat and brought out a package of hand wipes."--you switched into third person here.

" I peered up through my thick black lashes at him as I scrubbed at my own face with a wipe."--why is she describing her lashes in such detail?

Again, you might want to re-read the dialogue and add some contractions. People usually say: I'm, not I am, don't they?

"you sit a horse like you are apart of it."--I think you meant "a part of it"?

"Ummn ah no." --this might look better, if you add some punctuation to it. Or even better, if you just write: I hesitated before saying: "No."

"joyful peals of hilarious laughter."--I'm not sure if hilarious is the right word here. Does Sirona laugh in a funny way?

" He carefully maneuvered the car down the slope "--should be the begining of a new paragraph.

"with his long snaky arched with pride." --his long arched what?

I didn't spot anything else off, but nevertheless, I'd re-read if I were you and check if there aren't any mistakes. This had been an interesting read and it makes one wonder about a lot of things. It may be me reading too much Agatha Christie, but my guess about the chupacabra was some kind of a trick by the owner--maybe to make Sirona concentrate on it, instead of Dulcinea?

[Joanna Maharis]

I like the story so far, but you go back and forth from 3rd person to 1st person. You need to pick either one or the other and stick to it. For another thing, there are places where there is only dialogue, and you should indicate who is speaking. Other than these elements that I mentioned, I really didn't find anything else that needed work.

[TL Boehm]

Well - the only issue I have is that the first chapter is unpublished so I have the feeling that I'm jumping into the story after it's started.
The dialogue is solid, I actually like the length of the chapter but here at the Cafe things like this are often skipped for the quick fix of emoetry - their loss of course. I saw one small part that may be a typo "Taking a deep breath of the moisture-laden air I continued, "It wasn't my idea to drive from Rio to Sao Paulo." Sirona snorted and reached under my seat and brought out a package of hand wipes." should it be "I snorted" instead of Sirona snorted?
There is this delicious tension in the story that starts off right away - a foreboding that is very subtle - I was poised for something when the "Creature" was spotted, but since it was just a tease, that makes it even better.
Again, the imagery in this piece is awesome. I read for content as I am comma challenged, but I see a solid story here. I hope you post more.

[anneliese]

this definately needs a quick review to correct all the simple mistakes in spelling, grammar, and perspective change.