Dr. Green Challenge 1000.24

Just as Dr. Eaton Green gave thanks to whomever or whatever that his Mum couldn't show any photos of his early Halloween costumes as meat animals with the placard reading “Don't Eat Me, Please!” (and that she never learned that a pack of matches he'd found might have been the reason), someone knocked briskly at the front door.  His mother got up.  “Oh, my, I bet that must be Charles and James!  Stay put, loves, I'll get it.”  And she toddled over to meet them.

Right at the doorstep were two fellows.  One was a man easily in his seventies with a neatly trimmed white mustache, a military beret, a black patch over his right eye, a tan jacket with many pockets over a dark grey sweater, and sturdy trousers that looked like they'd be at home either in a dinner party or a ten mile hike.

Right alongside him was a clean shaven man about Dr. Green's age with a chiseled jaw, black hair in a professional cut, an olive green sweater with a pattern like that of the other gentleman, blue jeans and black boots.  Les could tell by the way they stood and carried themselves that these two had had some military experience, or some schooling at a martial academy.

“Hullo, sis,” went the older man.

“Good afternoon, Auntie Mara,” said the younger.

“Charlie,” beamed Dr. Green's Mum, hugging the older man.  “Glad you could make it.”

“Ta,” said Charlie, “at my age, I'm glad, too.”

“And James, good to see you,” she said, turning to hug the younger one.

“Great seeing you, Auntie,” said James with a smile.

Dr. Green stood up.  So did Les, following his lead.  “Uncle, cousin,” the doctor said, “this is quite a surprise.”

“You're telling me, Eaton,” Uncle Charles went.  “Back from America to stay?”

“No, Uncle, just visiting for a while.”

“So who's the young fellow?” James asked.

“Oh, sorry.  Uncle Charles, cousin James, I'd like you to meet Mr. Les Safer, my previous protege and current partner in Safer-Greenwear.  Mr. Safer, this is my uncle, Captain Charles Napier Moore, and my cousin, Sergeant James Lennox Moore.”

Les extended his hand to shake.  “Pleased to meet you, Captain, Sergeant.”

“Thanks, but please,” the captain said, “it's just Charles or Charlie.  Only Majors upward really go by their rank as a title, in my book.”

“Same here,” James said with a friendly smile.  “Just James, if you'd kindly.”

“So what are you doing here away from the colonies with this rogue?” Uncle Charles inquired.

“Oh, Dr. Green thought it'd be great to get away for a while after a rough week stateside,” Les said tentatively.

Dr. Green decided to get it over with.  “Yes, no doubt you've seen my picture in the papers.”

“No, but I've seen the web article,” James answered.

“Old friend showed me one of the rags that had it,” Uncle Charles affirmed.  “Never thought I'd see the day.”

“So who put you up to dressing like a chav?” James asked.  

Dr. Green sighed.  “Very long story.”

“Well, perhaps after we've gotten to see old Mara here,” Uncle Charlie said, “maybe you can tell us over tea, and then the ride over to our farm.”

Les perked up.  “Farm?”

Dr. Green nodded.  “Farm.”

***And as they rode in Uncle Charles' Range Rover Classic into the countryside, Dr. Green wondered how his uncle's farm managed to avoid being absorbed into Greater Manchester's urban sprawl.  Or turning into another tourist attraction like many other farms they passed by.  

But it was still quite a spread with trees and rivers around the fields.  And the fencing gave evidence that this side of the family appreciated their privacy.

Les marveled.  “How'd you keep this place from being built over?”

Uncle Charles smirked.  “With great difficulty.”

But soon they parked at a barn and stable and got out.  Dr. Green had an idea what was next.  “Hope you've got some liniment for tomorrow, Les.”

Les scrunched his eyebrows quizzically.  “Liniment?  For what?”

Dr. Green just extended a hand to the stable.  And the horses within.  

There were four inside:  A coal black one with a white diamond shape on its nose,  a brown one with a few white splashes on its sides, a white one with black speckled spots, and one that was solid grey.  

“Gentlemen,” Uncle Charles said, “allow me to introduce Hope, Molasses, Pongo, and Granite.”

“Don't suppose you've ever ridden a horse before, Les?” James asked.

Les drew his foot on the ground.  “I once rode a donkey in Peru when I was five.”

Dr. Green snickered.  “I doubt that counts.”

Uncle Charles nodded.  “Well, you've got to start somewhere.  Riding an unfamiliar horse was as essential a skill in the Great War as running, swimming, firing a pistol, and fencing.”  

Les shrugged.  “Well, three out of five isn't bad.”

Uncle Charles chose to figure out the three a little later.  “You'll excuse me if I assign your rides.”  He pointed to the white and brown horse.  “Mr. Safer, I think Molasses will be a dear for you, and Eaton, if you'll see Pongo over to the big house with us?”

And with a little saddling of the horses, and a little helping Dr. Green remember how to swing up from the stirrup into the saddle, and helping Les do it for the first time, and reminding them that “whoa!” was for a dead stop, not to get them to slow down, Uncle Charlie took the black Hope, and James mounted grey Granite.  

“Right then,” Uncle Chares said.  “Follow me, everyone!”  And he led the way down the trail through the grassy, green fields.

Dr. Green liked the feel of the breeze, the smell of the flora, the freshness of the air, and the plain beauty of having a living creature as his transport.  He knew he'd be paying for it in the morning with saddle sores in the legs and bottom, but at least it wasn't going to take him by surprise like it would Les.