By David Elder
This is a story of neighbors who were dear friends of my family when I was growing up.
The Steeds wore their name as an unfortunate reminder of the unmistakable resemblance they bore to members of the horse family. Mr. Steed, having brought nothing to the table in terms of genetic dominance, was the only “normal” looking individual in the bunch. With his moon-shaped face and his gentle smile, he was like the proud father swan surrounded by his ugly ducklings.
Mrs. Steed, as well as her daughter and son, were stamped from the same mold, having very large elongated heads with harsh features and big teeth. This did little to detract from their amiable likeability or their friendliness. One couldn’t help but wonder, however, if Mr. Steed has chosen his wife with the unconscious desire to wed identity with form.
Providence and traditionally accepted standards of appearance were the happy consequence of their son, Jim Steed. Having strong features and an outsized head are acceptable and even desirable attributes for a man, as evidenced in the casting of some dynamic actors. Regrettably, the only actor that Jim closely resembled was Mr. Ed.
Women with harsh features are less likely to be accepted, largely due to the glamorization of feminine beauty in the media, and for Jinny, that usually meant rejection rather than approval.
Jinny seemed unaware of her lamentable looks, though, virtually oblivious to her misfortune until she entered school. Jim was kept busy during those latter days by defending his younger sister because of the taunting of boys on the bus or playground, who cruelly changed her name from Jinny to the more descriptive “Whinny.” Luckily, Jim’s muscles were proportionate with his head, and he soon made those bullies regret their invention.
We secretly empathized with the Steeds through their difficult times and wished that others could appreciate the qualities that we saw in them.
There was one occasion that stands out in my mind, of a trip that threatened to destroy the close relationship enjoyed by our families.
We had been invited by the Steeds to accompany them on a weeklong stay at their cabin in the mountains. The setting was magical, like something out of every boy’s dream, complete with a private lake and gigantic frogs, ripe for the catching. Their cabin was located high on a ridge that overlooked the valley and lake below. I can still remember the feel of the sun on my bare back as my brother and I excitedly checked out every log and chased rabbits through the brown grass of the hillside.
We were all very close in age, with my brother and Jim twelve, and myself only two years their junior. My brother was a pitcher for a Little League team back home and was always trying to show off his arm by initiating rock-throwing contests. He had a unique way of whipping his arm right before he released the stone that ensured his throw would be the longest. Even though my brother was much smaller than Jim, his tosses reigned supreme.
We were all so intent on the contest that we hadn’t noticed Jim’s mother calling us for lunch. Frustrated at having to repeat herself, she unwisely stepped in front of us to get our attention, just as my brother was releasing his most Herculean hurl thus far. With a resounding THWACK the stone hit her squarely in the head.
From the sound of the impact, it was obvious that any person with a normal-sized head should have died right on the spot. Mrs. Steed, with her enormous horse head, simply absorbed the blow without even losing her footing. For what seemed like an eternity everyone stood in silence, expecting her to topple like some ancient redwood, felled by the woodsman (played by my brother), who gave no respect to her majesty. Indeed, the sheer weight of her massive noggin should have ensured her swift decent to the ground.
When it became apparent that she was going to survive, Jim decided that my brother needed to pay for trying to murder his mother. Picking up a watermelon from the picnic table, Jim began chasing him, screaming for blood with the melon raised high above his head.
By this time Mrs. Steed had recovered, and with the help of the other adults, was able to control Jim long enough to save my brother from Death by Watermelon. Needless to say, my parents felt that our departure was advisable, so we packed up the car and drove home.
I can’t really say the relationship between our families was ever quite the same after that, and I always thought that Jim was just biding his time, secretly growing a gigantic hybrid melon to exact his revenge upon my brother. As for Mrs. Steed, other than a quickly fading black eye, there was no evidence of her nearly fatal mishap.
Time passed, and eventually Jim left home and became a success in business. I suppose his achievements were due in part to his appearance, which communicated confidence to those around him.
To everyone’s delight, Jinny found a man who was able to look beyond what others saw, to the charming and striking woman below the surface. Not long after their union, Jinny and her husband blessed the world with more of the same equine-featured offspring who, as they grew from Shetland to Clydesdale, gained the knowledge that a far more precious and unbridled beauty resides in the soul.
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David Elder is a lifelong resident of the Monterey Peninsula and in recent years has begun pursuing his passion for writing. His main interest is in writing fictional short stories, although he also writes factual articles for publication and is presently working on his first novel. He is the site steward for short stories at Helium.com, and has his own blog as well as being editor of several other websites. He offers monthly short story contests online, which have no monetary reward other than free exposure for anyone who participates. Winning short stories from the contest are featured on the contest site for one month. For more information on entering his short story contest, please visit www.helium.com/zone/986-tantalizing-tales-. To read more of David Elder’s work, please visit www.helium.com/users/303553.
