Cheval Chapter Two

Cheval

Chapter Two

All too soon the curtains closed and it was over. As the rest of the audience made their way to the
outside of the main tent, I just sat in my seat taking it all in. I shook my right hand in the air to try and relieve some of the pain from the mad rush of writing I did during the 15 minute intermission but it still ached. I only had a few minutes before I had to be in the stables but I wanted to get down as much information as I could from the second half of the show before I met Louis Gallo. I had already burned through several pages which had my messily written short hand notes that covered the front and back of the pages but there was still so much that I hadn't been able to get down. It was another five minutes before an usher told me I had to leave so the clean-up crew could start their work.

Walking out of the main tent and passed the bathrooms, it was a short walk to the stables. The stable tent was fairly large which made sense since it was a temporary home for more than fifteen horses. I tracked down a man in what looked to be an usher's outfit complete with a maroon bow tie.

    "Ah, hi, I'm Lily from the Minneapolis Metropolitan Art Magazine and I'm scheduled to meet with Mr. Gallo after the show today," the usher I stopped just looked at me. I double checked to make sure he did, in fact, work for Cheval and he wasn't just some guest I stopped on accident. His name tag read Tyler with the name Cheval written above it.  "Umm, do you know where I can find him?"

    "I don't know who Mr. Gallo is," he stared blankly at me.

    "Mr. Louis Gallo, the creator of the production," how could he not know who Louis Gallo was?

    "Oh, Louis, yeah, just one sec," he pulled the walkie-talkie from his belt and spoke briefly to whoever was on the other end.

I walked a little ways away and observed what was going on in the stables. Most of the stalls were full with the various types of horses from the show and some even had people inside the stall brushing down the horses. I walked by a few of the stalls and noticed each stall had a placard that indicated the name of the horse, what kind of horse it was and who the horse belonged to. I stopped in front of an appaloosa that was absolutely stunning. It was almost like he'd been dipped head first in  paint because his head and front legs were completely black but the rest of him was mostly white with a few black spots. His mane was relatively short but completely blended into his coat which made it had to distinguish what was mane and what was his coat without a closer look. There was a woman inside the stall who was busily combing his back legs. I recognized her from the show as one of the horseback riders. She looked up and smiled at me but kept up a steady pace of combing.

    "Hi," I smiled back. She looked friendly and didn't seem to mind my presence. "Is this your horse," I asked.

    "Yuppers, this is my Broderick," she patted his hindquarters affectionately.

    "Broderick, any relation to Matthrew?" I asked jokingly and it earned me a laugh.

    "Naw, I just thought it sounded strong," she laughed. Broderick just stood their obediently and allowed his master to lift his leg and continue to stroke his coat with a short, rough looking bristle comb.

    "Oh, it does," I nodded in agreement. "So, I saw you in the show, you were amazing!"

    "Well, thank you. Compliments are always welcome," she joked.

    "Yeah, no, it all looked very amazing. It must be hard but you made it look effortless. I would be just terrified to do some of those tricks!" It was true. I sometimes had trouble walking in straight lines so hanging off the side of a horse with no strings attached just seemed inconceivable.

    "It's all about trusting in your horse and trusting yourself, without trust," she paused and patted the side of Broderick's head. "Well, it would be dangerous."

    "Miss Smith," an accented voice asked from behind me.

I turned and saw Louis Gallo walking towards me. I expected a suave man with coiffed hair and an expensive, well-to-do suit but I was pleasantly surprised to see a man dressed in black dress pants with a simple white button up with his sleeves rolled to the elbow. Instead of a sleek and sophisticated hairstyle, he actually had longer hair, as indicated by the long ponytail he had.

He held his arms outstretched as he got closer to me. Not entirely sure if he wanted a hug or not, I mirrored his actions and stretched my arms out. We ended up hugging as if we were old friends who hadn't seen each other in some time. He kissed me on my cheek and I had just enough time to give him a quick peck before he pulled away. As a journalist, you learned pretty quick to adjust to any situation. If there was an awkward atmosphere then it would be unlikely to get any good information from the person you were interviewing.

    "Mr. Gallo," I smiled. "It is very nice to meet you and thank you for agreeing to see me today."

    "Louis, please. Mr. Gallo sounds so stuffy," he pretended to shudder. He pointed to an sitting area and said "Shall we?"

    "Absolutely," I followed him to the sitting area and watched as he waved and called out to people who were in the stables. He seemed very friendly with his staff and I could understand why people liked him. "Would it be alright if I used my recorder?"

    "Whatever you need," he smiled. I had to admit, he was pretty handsome for someone who was older. His gray eyes were a bit droopy but when he smiled it made his eyes look warm. "I must say I was rather impressed by the voice message you left for me."

I shuffled through my purse looking for my recorder. "Oh, why is that," I asked as I finally found it. Honestly, my purse wasn't that big but I always seemed to lose everything in it. I also took out my notepad but not to take notes. If a journalist wanted an interview to flow naturally then taking written notes was an absolute no-no. I used my notepad strictly as a way to remember what questions I wanted to ask.

    "You sounded so young to be working at a company as prestigious as the MMAM. Normally I have my publicist direct all press to the press conference we hold before the show but I knew I just had to meet you,"  he smiled warmly. Normally a statement like that seemed creepy, especially coming from an older man, but Louis' charming demeanor made it seem like a sincerely meant compliment and I decided to take it as such.

    "Oh no, the pressure's on," I teased while I checked to make sure I saved the time and date into the digital recorder. "I hope I don't disappoint!" My response earned me a chuckle.

    "Somehow, I don't think you will," he looked out across the stables as if to take stock of what was happening in the near vicinity. I hit record and opened my notepad to the section where I had written all the questions I wanted to make sure I remembered.

    "Well, first off, let me tell you what I hope to accomplish with my exposé," my usual straight-forward approach to interviewing allowed my interviewee to understand what I was looking forward and often saved me from having to ask most of the questions on my list. "I've done a lot of research on Cheval and, well, on you as well, in order to get a better idea of what Cheval is about." I looked for signs of irritation at my words. I didn't see any so I kept going, "It isn't hard to find praises for the production but no one really knows what goes on behind the scenes or even what it takes to make Cheval happen. The struggles and triumphs is what makes Cheval so incredible. In my opinion, the true beauty of Cheval isn't just what we see happening on stage but everything, including what happens behind the curtain."

He nodded along as I spoke but I didn't now if he approved of what I was saying or just showing an indication that he was listening. He was silent for a few moments  but then he smiled brilliantly at me. "I knew I wouldn't be disappointed by you," he laughed heartily. I sighed in relief on the inside but answered his smile with one of my own.

    "I'm glad," I chuckled. "You have a great poker face, Mr.--Louis," I corrected myself at the last second which earned me another smile.

    "So I've been told. It comes with the business, I guess." He lifted his elbow and put it on the table while he rested his head on his pointer finger. It was a sign that I had grabbed his attention.

    "It is something that comes from experience or something they taught you at FUA," I asked.

    "You did do your homework," he nodded in approval at my reference to Florence University of the Arts where he'd earned his Bachelor's Degree in Performing Arts and Visual Design. "A little of both. There are a lot of disappointments in school," he shrugged. "Proposals that don't get accepted, productions becoming disasters--a lot of which happens outside of school as well, you learn to not put your heart on your sleeve. It makes it easier to crush when something goes wrong."

    "That seems a little harsh, is that the reality of the business you're in?" His bleak statement seemed so opposite to his normal, charming demeaner.

    "It is in the beginning, when you're fresh out of school and pitted against well known producers and directors and you're just the assistant's assistant," he said. "There is a lot of trial and error and patience is an absolute-must if you're going to make it in this business. I've seen many succumb to the disappointments of this field."

    "What stopped you from being one of the ones that didn't make it," I asked.

    "What made me different?" He took a moment to think about it. "Stubborness, perhaps. It simply
 isn't in me to give  up."

    "Stubborness goess a long way," I agreed.  "I read online that the idea of Cheval and it's equastrian nature came to you after visiting a friend's horse ranch in Italy. What did you see there that made you suddenly realize that this was a show you wanted to produce?"

    "It was his wife, actually. You see, she's a business woman and is known for being very..." he paused. "She's a real shark when it comes to all things business. She once described business as a dog-eat-dog world and she planned on being one of the top dogs. Her personality is very much so an acquired taste but when I saw her with  one of the horses her husband own, the transformation was almost magical." A part of me was sad that I didn't have a camcorder because he was so animated when he spoke. "To see this hard woman being soft and almost motherly to the horse was just very inspiring to me. When I asked her why she liked horses she told me it was because she had complete trust in the horse."

    "She said that if the horse didn't trust you, it would let you know and that true riders had to earn the trust of the horse," he said. "Of course she didn't say it so eloquently, if I might add. When she spoke to me, she was the same harsh woman I had grown to love." He chuckled.

    "And the rest is history, huh?"

    "Well, no actually, the rest is years of research, production meetings and several fundraisers," he had a knack for making people laugh.  I couldn't remember laughing this much during an interview.

The interview lasted for nearly two hours although most of it was just the two of us talking rather than a standard Q&A. I had enjoyed myself so thoroughly that I hadn't realize it was nearly ten'o'clock at night when we finally wrapped up our discussion. I had gained a lot of useful information but not nearly enough for the exposé I had originally planned.

    "Thank you so much for your time," I reached my hand forward to give him a handshake. He took my hand in both of his and gave a slight bow. He seemed to do everything with a flourish that came naturally to him.  "It truly was great meeting you, Louis."

    "When will I see you again," he released my hand and folded his arms across his chest.

    "I-I'm sorry," I looked at him questioningly.

    "I saw your list of questions," he pointed to my purse with my notepad in it. "We didn't nearly cover all the questions you had, I'm assuming answers to those questions would help you write a better article, would it not?"

I was completley stunned. He actually wanted to meet a second time for an interview and I didn't even have to ask. "Oh, oh yes it would! Thank you!" I had to remind myself to calm down, "When would be a good time for you?"

    "How about lunch around twleve-thirty," he asked. "I'm sure I could even scrounge up rider or two, if you had any questions for them."

Before I realized what I was doing, I hugged him fiercely. "Oh, thank you so much, I don't even know what to say!"

    "So it's set then," he said as he returned my hug. "Twelve-thirty tomorrow?"

I pulled back, "Twelve-thirty tomorrow, I'll be here!"

I left and called Mark on the way home to tell him about the meeting tomorrow. He was so astonished that he forgot to harp me about the work I'd be missing tomorrow. We hung up right as I reached my apartment and I couldn't wait to start transcribing my notes. It would be like reliving the whole show all over again!

To Be Continued...