It was the smell that I remember most.
Unpleasant and mixed with the hot, humid, Summer air, it was so thick you could almost see it, and having played in the area a number of times, I knew what it was, so I looked around to make sure I didn’t step in it.
We made our way to the stall, where we stood and stared at the great beast. In a few months we would be moving to a new city, and a new house. A house surrounded by other houses, and not fields and trees and creeks. It was the end of my youth, and of the care free days of youthdom, to be replaced by the day to day drudgery of the suburbs.
Before we moved, I had made it my mission to ride that horse, and my brother, Ray, a year and half older, but seemingly much more adult, had ridden the horse and assured me we could do it. Typical of the time period, we didn’t bother to tell our parents what we were doing, or for that matter, the neighbors who owned the horse.
We let the horse out of the stall, found the reins and saddle, and with a good bit of effort, managed to get them on the horse. After a few attempts, we got ourselves on the horse, and rode the trails we were so familiar with — past the woods where we built tree houses, the streams we would catch frogs, the abandoned house where we played soldiers, and the fort where the boys who lived next door would catch small animals, and do whatever it is that evil older boys do.
It was a testament to the halcyon days of youth, and of Summer, and a time many years past. The beauty and tranquility of that was only exceeded by the rapidity it vanished. Ray, spooked by what he thought was a snake, yanked on the reins and the horse reared up and threw me. I landed in the soft grass, and took off laughing and running, hindered only by the cool breeze, the sunshine, and the speed of my 8 year-old legs. That, and the barbwire fence in front of me.
Actually, it’s the scars from my father’s attempts to treat my lacerations with butterfly bandages made out of tape, instead of taking me to the emergency room, that I remember the most.
