Cast:

Great Uncle Patriarch - terrifying and manipulative
Great Aunt Matriarch - a busybody of the first order
Aunt Belinda - a tough horsey type
Uncle Farmer - I don't ever remember hearing him speak
Cousin Mandy - a year or two older than me
Me-

I was a nice kid, spastic and too eager, but generally I was sweet and really just wanted to fit in and be liked. I remember feeling incredibly misunderstood through most of my childhood.

Okay, so when I was six my parents had a really ugly divorce, which you can read about from my sister's prospective here. My mom raised us with minimum cash and resources, so real vacations were rare. From the time I was eight, I was sent to stay with my grandfather in northern Virginia for a week or two in the summer and that was great, because he was a seriously cool guy. He understood me and loved my chatterbox curiosity.

The year I turned eight my father bought me riding lessons for my birthday because I was seriously horse crazy. This, I think, must have convinced my mother that the perfect place on which to foist me for the summer would be the "family" farm. They were her family, none of whom she was particularly close to because she was the weird city cousin who went to art school, for goodness sake. I guess they felt sorry for her because of the divorce and all (which didn't mean they didn't judge her for it) and agreed that I would stay a few weeks at the farm that summer. I was really jazzed about this because a) a HORSE FARM and b) my cousin Mandy was around my age and we were sure to be best friends. Why wouldn't we be? (Please note, this is foreshadowing.)

Year One:

My first clue that everything was not going to be okay was Mandy's immediately pointing out that my boots were all wrong. Before my arrival, my mother had been instructed by Aunt Belinda to buy me some sturdy boots I could ride in. We were pretty poor and my mom did her best, but my boots had a definite western flair and were All Wrong. What I needed to fit in were paddock boots or those horrible gumshoe things from LL Bean, but instead I showed up looking like a cowgirl. Yikes.

My introduction to Mandy wasn't great either - she made it pretty clear from the start that she was older and wiser and I was a dumb city dweeb who didn't know ANYTHING and she was not happy about being stuck with me for two damn weeks. That none of them really wanted me there was soon to become abundantly clear.

I really knew I was in trouble the first night when I was in the barn with Belinda, trying to help out. I was at one end and she was at the other and she yelled something I didn't understand. The conversation went something like this:

"Adrien, bring me a scoop of the sl.zxdklsiez/s!"

"Huh?"

"Don't YOU SAY 'HUH' to me!"

(Oh no! Had I been rude? I furiously combed my brain for a better response.)

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Don't YOU SAY 'WHAT' to me!"

(Oh, crap. What the hell was she getting at?)

"I'm...sorry? I really just didn't hear what you said."

There was a long pause. Then:

"Didn't your mother teach you to say 'yes ma'am' and 'no ma'am?"

"Uh...no? ......er......Ma'am?"

She really didn't know what to do with this. She made a face and then reiterated that around these parts, you showed RESPECT to your elders. (Please note the obvious dig at my mother - clearly she was raising a rude-ass big-city heathen. Oh, the humiliation. Never mind the rudeness in yelling down the length of a barn, but whatever.) God, why didn't she just tell me what she wanted me to say instead of torturing me?

The next day, Mandy showed her true colors. Belinda got a phone call while we were out playing in the yard and leaned out the back door to share the news- Mandy's best friend Mary had invited her to go see "Annie" at a local dinner theater and would I like to go too? Would I! I loved "Annie" and was about to say yes when Mandy elbowed me and whispered:

"Tell her NO. I don't want you there. Tell her you don't want to go. Do it."

I froze. Oh my God, who does stuff like that? I was mortified and numbly told Belinda I didn't want to go. She gave me a hard look and nothing more was said about it. What was I supposed to do? I didn't want to go where I wasn't wanted, that was for sure.

The next afternoon Mandy left for the play and Belinda was off training horses or something. It was just me and my great uncle and aunt. It was a seriously hot and mosquito-y day in July and there wasn't much I could do by myself, so I did what I always did at home - curled up with a good book. I loved to read and could spend quiet hours happily immersed in a book. I went up to Mandy's room and plopped down on the bed with the latest Trixie Belden mystery. Not ten minutes later my great aunt comes bustling upstairs and demands to know what I think I'm doing. Um, reading? Wasn't it obvious? She told me she didn't want me hanging around in Mandy's room by myself and to go downstairs. Fine, whatever.

I was pretty puzzled by this because I knew she didn't want me getting in her way and I thought she'd be delighted to see me quiet and out of trouble. Apparently not. Also, why was I not allowed in the bedroom? I was sleeping there! I wandered downstairs and into the living room and plunked myself down in a chair to continue reading. Ten minutes later my great uncle walks in and asks me what I think I'm doing. Jesus Christ, what is it with these people? I told him it was hot out and I was reading.

The bastarding bastard kicked me outside. He told me children �belong outside.� What the fuck? Was I a dog? I went outside and fought off the mosquitoes and tears while I tried to read. I was really and truly fucked. These people did not want me, did not like me and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

I ended up being glad I didn't go to the play with Mandy . Her friend Mary came over to ride with us soon after that and Mary was a snob of the finest caliber. They, together, did their very snobby best to make me feel excluded and unwanted. Nice. I just remember being astonished at how rude they were. When we had guests at my house, we always tried our best to make them feel welcome. Wasn't that what you were supposed to do? I also felt that sort of hopeless isolation that only kids feel. Why I didn't call up my grandfather and beg him to come get me is beyond me. I think it just wasn't in my nature to make a scene.

The weeks went on and there were other smaller slights, but mostly it was a combination of bordom and hard work. I went with Mandy and my aunt Belinda to several horse shows where Mandy competed and I had no role at all. I wasn't allowed to do much of anything and anything I did try to help with was wrong. At one point during the beginning of my stay, Belinda suggested that maybe it would be fun for me to enter a couple of the beginner classes, which I was really excited about, but it never happened. You really shouldn't make promises to a sensitive eight-year-old that you don't intend to keep.

I got my revenge, though. After driving hours back from a horse show, I got out of the car, walked into the living room and promptly threw up ALL OVER the floor. Haahhaa. Serves them right.

282 chatty monkeys