The Equestrian Affair

Almost every family has one. In most families, there is at least one aunt or uncle, brother or sister, or distant cousin that is unconventional. In some families, the eccentric and unconventional behavior of that certain family member lives on the borders between odd and unusual, to downright reckless and bizarre. On rare occasions, the unusually inspired member of the family can cross from the land of the sensible into dangerous territory.

When workmates become friends, and when the friendships at work grow into lifelong relationships, secrets and life lessons can emerge that define personalities, and the Marco Beach Boys and Girls are no exception.

On one occasion, a recreational team outing was suggested, and everyone had an idea of which activity would be the best. Several ideas were available for the group to decide on, but when horseback riding was up for discussion, a particular Marco Beach Boy shivered and shook his head. “No thanks,” the Beach Boy exclaimed, “No horses for me; I had this crazy uncle who almost killed me with a horse. I have been terrified of horses ever since.” With that confession out in the open, everyone wanted to hear about the Equestrian Affair.

The story began in eastern Tennessee when the particular Beach Boy was only six years old. The Beach Boy family lived in a big stone house with apple orchards on either side. Granny’s house was on one side of an apple orchard, and the horse barn was on the other. Behind a fence and a hedgerow, there were gates leading into a large pasture and a distant barn. The scene was idyllic. In springtime, the apple trees were blooming, a huge budding garden was underway, and in the pasture, four horses were busy eating the sprouting new grass.

This was when Uncle James showed up with his pick-up truck and a trailer. On the trailer was a horse racing buggy. In no time, it seemed, Uncle James was huffing and puffing his way on and off the trailer into the horse pasture and had lassoed Big Freddy and harnessed the huge black stallion to the flimsy but fast, newly arrived horse racing buggy. Uncle James was a big, rough and tough East Tennessee mountain man who was always up to a new scheme or treacherous adventure. Uncle James raced stock cars on Saturday nights at the county dirt track and often ended up in the hospital after a racing accident. No one said it, but even to a six-year-old, Uncle James seemed wild and crazy.

When Uncle James climbed up on the buggy with Big Freddy pulling the racing cart, he looked like he was two sizes too big for the rickety vehicle with the oversized bicycle tires. As Big Freddy and Uncle James began to approach the house with the flagstone patio, they were trotting along up through the orchard and the blooming apple trees. When the beginning of the Equestrian Affair pulled to a stop at the edge of the stonework, granny and mother were having coffee and watching everything with unwavering interest.

“Where’s my nephew?” Uncle James called out with his obnoxious bullhorn voice. He knew very well his nephew was also warily watching everything from the moment of the racing buggy’s arrival but was now trying to disappear behind the patio table between mother and granny.

“Come on, nephew!” Uncle James beckoned and roughly padded the empty place on the bench seat of the buggy. “We are going for a little ride. We’ll drive over to see your daddy at work and then over to the drugstore for an ice cream cone. This will be fun. Big Freddy needs some exercise. He’s been cooped up all winter.”

With mother and granny both arching eyebrows and obviously reluctant to agree, Uncle James prevailed with his hail-fellow-well-met personality, and soon the very young Marco Beach Boy, Uncle James, and Big Freddy were trotting along out of the apple orchard and onto the blacktop of the adjacent highway.

The spring day was pleasant, the breeze on the buggy fine, and after a few moments, the white-knuckled beach boy began to relax. The ride was going as promised, except for the ice cream cones because Uncle James was too busy. He knew everyone, and after several stops of visiting and showing off his newest escapade with the hastily assembled horse racing buggy, the horse and cart turned onto Main Street and mixed in with the automobile traffic.

When a green light turned to red in the traffic, Uncle James pulled back on the reins that were much too long for the buggy and Big Freddy nervously stopped at the red light. This was when a semi-tractor trailer pulled up alongside. After the big tractor-trailer slowly stopped, the driver thought it would be funny if he pulled down on the cord that sounded the three large horns on his massive truck.

When Big Freddy heard the loud blast from the truck and the three big horns that were only a few feet away, he reared up to escape, and all the Beach Boy saw was the back of the black stallion and the blurring blue of the sky.

Meanwhile, mother and granny were in the newly planted garden and working away when Big Freddy, without passengers and the buggy, ran into the apple orchard. The black stallion then bolted past the two fear-struck women in the garden and onward to the safety of the pasture and the barn.

When everyone was reassembled, it was at the emergency room. When the Beach Boy woke up, he was on a table with mother and granny looking over everything along with doctors and nurses. There was a large bump on the beach boy’s head where he landed on the street, but there was no other physical damage. Uncle James, however, was getting stitches on the next table while mother and daddy were delivering verbal lashes that were much worse for him than his wounds from the Equestrian Affair.

Almost every family has an Uncle James or a variation of the eccentric and odd non-conformist that might be a little on the wild side, but if no one comes to mind that fits the black sheep of the family description, it might be you!