Our protagonist comes from a long line of Islanders; his father worked here many years ago, as did his father before him. Kevin's father relayed tales of how the Great Turtle changed over the years, how more and more people swarmed the streets, strange and colorful shops popped up in every empty storefront, but the overall scene remained the same: historic buildings still standing, rifles firing from the top of the hill, ships sailing to and from the harbor, horses pulling carriages through the streets, and the music of their hooves can be heard around every corner.
This place, Kevin's father told him, will retain its magic until the end of time. We have been here since the beginning, and we will be here to the end. The men on this Island will always ensure that we will have a place here, because we are the backbone of its great legacy.
Kevin spends every morning in the field, eating his breakfast lazily. His friends lumber around him, grumbling about the long hours they worked last night. They tell stories about the ridiculous drunk tourists stumbling out of bars, scrambling for pictures with Kevin's coworkers.
They're obnoxious, his friends say, they're always getting in our personal space.
Kevin thinks, I can't wait to suit up and deal with these idiots all night. Fortunately, he's got a few more hours of freedom. Kevin works the late shift.
Early in the afternoon, Kevin's carriage driver, Dave, leads him to the stable, where he is put into his harness for the day. Kevin waits patiently, chewing calmly on a Honeycrisp apple that Dave brought him as a treat.
Kevin is a good employee, he does his job well without much complaint. Today he was especially agreeable, so that's why Dave brought him the apple. Kevin's partner, Toby, is a different story. Toby is young and arrogant, and does not seem to grasp the responsibilities of the privileged position that he has lucked into. He fights Dave incessantly about the harness, complaining that it is too tight, too small, with frustrated snorts from his long snout. He's a much bigger, stronger horse, he maintains, he needs more room than little Kevin. Once Dave wrestles Toby into his harness, Toby stands there, defeated, yet still stamping his hind hoof impatiently. Toby does not get an apple.
The shift on the late taxi begins at three. Kevin and Toby pull the carriage out of the MICT stable and downtown to the Mackinac Island Taxi dispatch. It does not take long before Dave's taxi is dispatched to Stonecliffe to pick up a tourist couple. Kevin grumbles. It is a long way to the hotel up in the center of the island, far from the hustle of Main Street. Lazy fudge gobblers, Toby muses to Kevin.
Boys, get up, Dave commands, clicking his tongue, and the two horses move along. They begin the trek up Grand Hill. Kevin can only see where they are headed out of the corner of his eye, but in this moment, he is thankful for that. It is always daunting to see the expanse of rising road in front of them, stretching past the enormous white hotel, into the trees of the Village. This is especially tough when one is pulling a carriage.
At the steeper incline past the Jockey Club, Toby lags a bit. Stupid, he complains, all this way up for two people. I hate them all. We walk everywhere, why can't they?
The hairless beings are fragile, Tobias, Kevin reminds him, they aren't strong and powerful like us. Sometimes, they need our help. The carriage jerks forward up the hill to Four Corners, as people on bikes whiz by.
We have a very important job, you and I, Kevin continues.
Shut up, Kevin, Toby snorts.
Dave jerks the reins a little. He clicks his tongue. Get up, Toby, he says.
Toby picks up the pace reluctantly. He stumbles a bit and bumps into Kevin as they turn left to go towards the Annex.
Toby, you foolish oaf, Kevin thinks. He cannot wait to finish this night and get back to the stable, where surely, another apple awaits him if he does his job well.
At Stonecliffe, the passengers wait for the taxi on the steps of the hotel, which was once a family's mansion. The couple are rotund and obese, clearly well-fed, Kevin observes. They will weigh the same as four passengers. Toby snorts in exasperation.
Fudgies, he says to Kevin, who nods knowingly.
The woman exclaims when she sees the carriage, commenting on how beautiful the pair of horses are, Toby, with his long black mane, and Kevin, with his silver dappled fur. She must have a picture with them, she insists to her husband, her dress matches the horses' coloring. Much to taxi driver Dave's consternation, the fat woman gets a bit too close to the horses, standing in front of them, where her long, hay-colored curly hair is just waiting to be chewed by Toby. Toby is a notorious hair chewer.
Fortunately, the woman and her husband toddle back to the taxi and climb in. Dave commands the two horses to continue on their journey, and Kevin feels the weight of the carriage increase significantly.
Where to? Dave asks the couple.
The woman looks at her husband. Oh, what was the place called? The restaurant. The Buggy Barn?
The Carriage House, the husband replies, looking at Dave.
The woman waves her hand dismissively. Whatever, it was something with a carriage in it.
Dave glances back at them in the rear view mirror. It's the best place to eat on the island, if you ask me, he says.
Better than the Grand? The husband counters.
Dave shrugs. I've never really liked the Grand.
Kevin has never really liked the Grand, either- at least, he's never liked their staff, the towering grey Percheron horses. On the way back down the hill, nearing the Gatehouse, the taxi passes one of the maroon and black Grand Hotel carriages, driven by a man in a tall black hat and tall black boots. The Percherons are snobby and entitled. They pull the carriage up the hill towards the big hotel, ignoring Kevin and Toby as they pass.
I hate those assholes, says Toby.
The taxi arrives at the restaurant downtown. The streets are still busy in the early evening, when the weather is warm and the scent of fudge wafts from the shop fronts. Kevin watches the hairless beings toddle across the streets and down the crowded sidewalks, wearing tacky screenprinted t-shirts, carrying wrapped boxes full of rich chocolate blocks. They mill in and out of stores, buying candy, chocolates, knick knacks, expensive wine, overpriced shoes. Their fat stomachs billow over their tight waistbands, chubby legs squeezed into leggings like sausage in its casing. They snap photos with cameras at the end of long sticks, and squeal with delight when they see a tall bike or hear the boat horns.
Now, the large couple descends from the taxi, and head into the restaurant, where they will inevitably stuff their faces with steak and white fish. Dave waits to receive his next call, and the taxi stands idly at the side of the road. Kevin observes a small crowd of fudgies, shuffling across the street, oblivious to the traffic around them. Toby eyes the little Jack Russell terrier that trails behind the herd.
Don't be afraid, Kevin tells him gently.
Toby nervously regards the fearsome beast in front of him, who looks inquisitively at the two horses. The giant, black draft horse will not admit his crippling fear of tiny dogs, but Kevin knows his secret. Toby's arch nemesis is a small brown Pomeranian owned by an Islander woman. She frequents the tavern known as the Village Inn, and wears a long blue coat, which frightens Toby enough already, but the dog itself strikes a deep and pervasive terror into Toby's heart. He abhors that beast, shaking whenever it nears the taxi, causing him to attempt to rear up in defense. Fortunately, Dave is usually able to calm the horse with a carrot or two.
Can he see me? Maybe if I don't move, he won't see me, Toby panics, referring to the Jack Russell.
Kevin sighs and hangs his head. Fear not, Tobias. He won't come this way.
He continues to watch the hairless beings on the main street. Kevin feels frustrated with their laziness. He thinks, if only they would see that the Great Turtle has so much more to offer than what can be seen on these main streets. Most of the fudgies do not think to venture past Market Street, preferring to confine themselves to the sights and sounds of the village. When leaving the town, the island becomes considerably quieter.
Kevin thinks of home, of the pasture, surrounded by his friends, eating fresh hay in the sun, listening to the birds and the wind through the old trees. He thinks of the bluff with beautiful cottages, gardens full of colorful plants that he wishes he could eat but knows he cannot. Sometimes, Dave will drive the carriage on a special route, up into the heart of the island. The road passes through forests, where sunlight dapples the ground through thick boughs of leaves, and the carpets of trillium are illuminated. Emerging from the forest, Kevin sees a vast field, where strange iron machines zip across a little road and ascend into the sky, roaring with power. He likes to watch them take off and land, bringing people to and from the Great Turtle.
The carriage will pass through tunnels of pine trees, down a hill, past swamps and small streams. Kevin always looks forward to reaching the bottom of the hill, where the road intersects with the highway that runs the perimeter of the island. Here, silver waves crash upon a shore with millions of tiny rocks, and across the water, a tall structure glitters in the afternoon sun. A faraway road suspending by two towering beams, crossing the Strait. It is a marvelous sight.
If only they would take the time to visit those parts of the island, to climb the hills and bike down the winding roads, Kevin thinks. Perhaps they wouldn't be so fat.
Suddenly, he feels the touch of a tiny hand upon his face. He glances down to see a small child, maybe five or six, standing at his side. She gazes up at him in awe.
Can she pet him? The girl's mother asks.
Sure, but be careful. He's been known to bite, Dave replies.
It is true that Kevin harbors little affection for the hairless beings, but he loves all small creatures. The tiny human will not do him any harm. She is only curious.
Kevin lowers his head a little more, allowing the child to pet his soft, velvety snout. Often times, the children are afraid of the big horses. Kevin wants to show them that they do not have to be afraid. He pushes his nose into the girl's hand, who smiles excitedly. She stares up into Kevin's eyes, gazing with wonderment and joy.
Dave, pleased with Kevin's good behavior, asks the girl's mother if she would like to feed the horse a Honeycrisp apple. He hands the child two slices of an apple, and shows her how to feed Kevin, with her palm open, the apple resting on her flat hand. She walks back to Kevin, and offers him the fruit. Kevin eagerly slurps the two halves of apple into his mouth in one swift motion, and the girl laughs happily.
Soon after, the girl's mother leads her away. Kevin remembers then why he loves his job. Although many of the humans can be cruel and stupid, there are a few good ones. If he is kind to the small ones, they will grow up to love animals, to be compassionate and kind. They will come to the island and appreciate its rich traditions, especially the heroes, the horses.
I hate those tiny fudge gobblers, Toby says.
They're not so bad, Kevin replies. Not all the time.
Dave clicks his tongue to let the horses know that they must begin moving. Kevin and Toby pull the taxi through town, on their way to pick up more passengers.
The smell of fudge isn't so terrible, today, Kevin thinks. The breeze is cool, and he can smell the fresh water. It's a beautiful evening, and soon enough, he will get to go back to the barn, where Dave will brush the mud from his fur, and whisper words of thanks to Kevin, maybe feed him another apple. There will always be apples, and this makes him happy. Bike chimes from all around accompany the beat of horses' hooves, creating a symphony that feels like something from another era, and the night continues.
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