ALISON GIESCHEN

THE SEVEN is not just a fictional story. Many layers of truth have been woven together to create these fictional characters. The seven humans have great meaning to me, and the stories that inspired their creation are truly incredible.

The Story of Eduardo

Eduardo is not just a fictional representation of a man, but a man I had the privilege of knowing—I shared a small fraction of his life’s journey. In The Seven, I captured the essence of his spirit, his cause, and the amazing feat he undertook to bring awareness to a breed of horse with strong roots in Argentina. I intertwined partial facts with imagination to fill in what his journey must have been like.

What I loved most about writing The Seven was developing characters who were real to me. I could picture everything about them—their appearances, the sound of their voices, the way they smiled, and even how they walked. I was an insider during their thought processes. They were so real that, at times, I felt as if I were invading their privacy, peeking into their minds and writing down their most intimate thoughts. As their stories unfolded, I shared their emotions. Sometimes I cried; other times, I laughed out loud. I didn’t feel as though I had control over their experiences—I simply recorded their lives as I watched the movie play out in my mind.

Eduardo was the exception. He entered our lives, our home, and our horse farm in New Jersey. He was a journeyman—an Argentinian Long Rider—on a quest to break the world record for the longest ride in modern history.

I don’t want to give away the best parts of his story. However, as you read Eduardo’s journey in The Seven, some of what you’ll discover is based on real experiences he shared with us—often on warm summer evenings on our back porch, accompanied by a large bottle of tequila.

The Introduction

The real story begins with a phone call from my sister, Carol, who owned a horse farm in Charlotte, North Carolina.

She called me one morning, her voice full of excitement. “You will never believe who is in my front yard!”

I had no guesses. Carol ran a large riding lesson and equestrian vaulting program, and unusual events were a regular occurrence at her farm. I rolled my eyes. “Just tell me, Carol. Who’s in your front yard?”

“It’s a man from Argentina with four horses! The police pulled him over last night for riding down the highway, leading his three other horses. Since we were the closest farm, the police asked if they could drop him off here,” she blurted out.

Carol explained that Eduardo was a Long Rider making his journey with no set destination, relying on the kindness of strangers. “I gave him your name and phone number and told him to call you when he gets to New Jersey!”

“Thank you, Carol,” I said sarcastically. “I’m sure some man with four horses is just going to show up one day at my farm in New Jersey!”

And with that, Eduardo breezed through Shea Rose Farm, spending a restful night in my sister’s front yard before continuing north on a smaller highway—one where he wouldn’t be pulled over by the police for riding with horses.

The Arrival

Three years later, while I was off from school for summer break, the phone rang. A woman on the other end spoke hesitantly.

“Hello. You don’t know me. This is going to sound bizarre, but I’m calling from Delaware. There’s a strange man standing in my front yard with four horses. I don’t think he speaks English. He handed me a piece of paper with a phone number and a name on it. Are you Alison?”

I knew instantly who it was. I briefly explained that the man in her yard was an Argentine Long Rider and that I had been told one day I might receive this call.

Eduardo had made it to the Delaware Memorial Bridge, which spans the Delaware River between Delaware and New Jersey. However, he was not allowed to cross the massive bridge on horseback. Conveniently, we lived just 14 miles north of that bridge, and thanks to my sister, Eduardo had my phone number. I was one of the few people in the area with a horse trailer large enough to transport four horses—and I happened to be home in the middle of the day to take his call.

I asked the woman for permission to come to her home and pick up Eduardo and his horses. As we spoke, she mentioned it wouldn’t be hard to find her house—she was looking at the bridge from her front porch.

I called Dan and told him the improbable had become reality. Eduardo was at the base of the Delaware Bridge, waiting for me to pick him and his horses up. Dan wasn’t due home for a few hours, so I hitched the trailer to the truck and headed south.

Twenty minutes later, I arrived at the address and got my first glimpse of the very tall Argentine man, adorned in his gaucho attire, alongside his four beautiful horses. The thought crossed my mind: What has Carol gotten me into this time?

Getting to Know Eduardo

Since Eduardo did not speak English, and I didn’t speak Spanish, there was an uncomfortable silence during our ride home. I made some nervous chatter to fill the void, quite sure Eduardo had no clue what I was talking about. I had no idea how long Eduardo planned to stay with us. I was hoping it was just for a day or two.

Thankfully, one of my fellow teaching cohorts was a Spanish teacher. She was of Puerto Rican descent. I called her on the way home and told her, “I NEED YOUR HELP NOW! Can you be at my house in half an hour?” Mercedes arrived shortly after we got home. I was thrilled to have a translator so I could communicate with Eduardo.

First, I cleared out my front pasture for Eduardo’s four horses. I didn’t want to mix them with my herd. As we unloaded his horses from the trailer, I noticed that one of his horses was limping. This was not a good sign. Eduardo’s horses immediately enjoyed the freedom of their new pasture, explored a little, and then set out to fill their bellies with grass. Eduardo smiled. We found a space in our large barn for all of Eduardo’s tack and travel items. When everyone was settled, I motioned for us to go into the house for our powwow.

Eduardo’s story unfolded, the trials and tribulations since departing my sister’s farm, finally dead-ending at the Delaware Memorial Bridge. He described his journey from North Carolina to New Jersey. It was eventful and filled with details which my friend, Mercedes, meticulously translated. He explained that his best horse had recently developed an abscess in her foot. It was going to take time to heal. He asked if he could stay a few days.

“Sure,” I told my friend, glancing at Eduardo. I smiled at Mercedes, “Tell Eduardo he can stay until his horse’s foot heals.”

Adventures with Eduardo

Eduardo arrived on a Thursday. He made a camp in a room that we were in the process of renovating. It had been a playroom for our kids, who were now grown. It was time to turn the room into a man cave for Dan. The floor was plywood, waiting to be carpeted, but Eduardo was happy to make the room his temporary home.  Most of the time, he pitched a small tent in some field not far from the roads he traveled, his horses tied to trees. Having a roof over his head, and his horses in a field was a rare treat.

Dan came home from work and was introduced to Eduardo, as were my two grown children living at home, Katie and Derek. We had fun at dinner time, trying to communicate with Eduardo. We successfully conveyed the basics about our family, but one fact about Dan caught Eduardo’s attention. Dan played polo. Eduardo, being from Argentina where polo is one of their most popular sports, was thrilled.

Friday morning, I took Eduardo to local tack shops and bought him some much-needed equipment. We spent the afternoon tending to his horse with the abscess. When we were finished, he asked if he could ride Roxy, a new polo pony we had just purchased. I didn’t see the harm so I agreed. Eduardo fell in love with the sweet black mare. Using Dan’s mallet and polo ball, he practiced his swing in our pastures. It was evident he was enjoying himself immensely.

That night, Mercedes came over. The four of us retreated to the back porch. We lit the chiminea, put out a bottle of Eduardo’s favorite beverage, Tequila, and were immersed in Eduardo’s stories translated by our friend. We had lots of questions, which were all answered. Eduardo had one of his own for Dan. “Can I play polo with you on Saturday?”

I could see by the look in Dan’s eyes that he was less than thrilled to be giving up his polo time, as Eduardo would have to use his horses. He only had three ponies, just enough to play 6 chukkas.

The Polo Monster

Frankenstein had nothing on Eduardo. He was an avid polo player. At first, Dan tried giving Eduardo one of his other ponies as his dream was to play his first match on Roxy. Eduardo tried to use Roxy but Dan stood firm, it was Harry. Harry had a few quirks, which is why we were able to buy him for $700. Harry was like an old car – one you must kick the tires and wiggle the wires “just so”, to get it to start. We were so familiar with Harry’s quirks that they became routine. However, when the towering Eduardo put his foot roughly in the stirrup and thumped onto Harry’s back, Harry blew a fuse. Eduardo was immediately launched into the horse trailer. Thankfully, he wasn’t hurt. Unfortunately, Dan felt so bad he handed Roxy to Eduardo.

And thus, the wild Argentine was unleashed into our rural Cowtown Polo match. Eduardo played by gaucho rules which roughly collided with the etiquette of our more docile polo-playing members. Sadly, I had the job of polo umpire for Cowtown and had to hold my calls as Eduardo bull-rushed through the match. Eduardo had an amazing time, playing polo for the first time since he left Argentina.

Meanwhile, the following week Eduardo melded into our family. I ran my summer riding camp, Eduardo did chores for me around the farm and tended every day to his horse’s abscess. Each evening, Mercedes would come to our house and we would have our back porch story hour with a bottle of Tequilla, mostly consumed by Eduardo.

Dan’s worst fear came true. Eduardo stayed the entire week, into the next weekend. Dan had yet to play his prized new polo pony. Worst of all, the match the following weekend was an away game in the Lancaster area of Pennsylvania. There would be many spectators and Dan knew Eduardo would be riding his new pony. What we weren’t prepared for, was the news crews that caught wind that Eduardo, the Argentinian Long Rider, was playing at the Strasburg Polo Club.

Dozens of South Americans came to the match to meet Eduardo in person. They flocked around him with gifts and donations. Eduardo was beaming. News crews were filming and cameras were lined on the field to capture Eduardo leading the charge for the Cowtown polo club. Dan watched, as Eduardo mounted his newest pride and joy, and charged off down the field.

The next day, a friend from Pennsylvania sent us a picture from the local Sunday newspaper. On the front page was a huge picture of Eduardo on Roxy, mallet in the air, joy on his face, screaming down the field toward the goal. While it hurt Dan to lose two chukkas on his new pony in the short summer season he had to play polo, the smile on Eduardo’s face was priceless.

Saying Good-Bye

Eleven days later, Eduardo’s time with us needed to come to an end. His horse was healed, he was restocked on supplies, and I was going broke buying him Tequilla. At our evening get-together, I had Mercedes tactfully tell Eduardo that it was time for him to get on the road again. He tried to woo my friend into joining him on his journey, but Mercedes was not the “sit on a horse and ride for hours a day,” kind of traveler.

The night before he departed, Eduardo wanted to repay us for our kindness. He offered to cook us an authentic Argentine chicken dinner. When Dan arrived home from work that evening, as he pulled down the driveway, he was shocked. He came into the house and asked me, “Why is there a fire under the tree in our front yard – and why is Eduardo cooking one of our chickens on it?”

Eduardo had asked me for salt and lemons. I had no idea what he was up to. Both Derek and Katie joined us for our family meal with Eduardo, and so did one of our chickens. Derek still says to this day, it was the best-tasting chicken he has ever eaten.

South to Canada?

The next morning, Derek assisted me as we packed Eduardo and his four horses back into our trailer to take him north. We picked a road he could travel safely with his horses to continue his trek. When we arrived, I pulled along the side of the road where there was room to unload and tack up the horses. The process took about an hour.

I have to insert a disclaimer here, I am dyslexic. I often mix up directions, lefts, and rights, north and south. This almost caused a disaster. After Eduardo had packed his horses, saddled his favorite mare, and was ready to depart, I pointed down the road and yelled, “Good luck Eduardo! BE SAFE!” I hoped he would get the gist of my message.

Eduardo proceeded to ride his mare in the direction I pointed, his other three horses in tow. I breathed a sigh of relief as it had been a privilege, but also quite taxing to host Eduardo and his crew. Carol had him one night, I had him for eleven days. I waved as he moved on down the road until Derek broke the spell.

“Mom,” he said with a smirk. “Do you realize you just sent Eduardo south? In several miles, he will be back at our farm.”

I will keep this story PG and not repeat the string of expletives that exploded from my mouth!

Running down the road after Eduardo like a mad woman, I screamed “Eduardo! Come back! You are going the wrong way!” This was punctuated with me wildly gesturing for him to make a turn and change directions. Meanwhile, Derek was doubled over with laughter.

We were successful in turning Eduardo to head north. I had to listen to Derek the whole ride home laying out scenarios where Eduardo would have ended up back at our house by dinner. Worst of all, I have never lived down this faux pas. If anyone mentions the location of Canada, my family looks at me and repeats the phrase, “You mean south to Canada?”

Send one person south to get to Canada, and you will never live it down.

Spoiler Alert

Lastly, I left out one colorful story regarding Eduardo, his horses, and a pot-belly pig. I won’t give away too many details. However, as you read the story of Eduardo in The Seven, there will be an event regarding a pig and his horses. As you are reading, picture this same event happening on my farm. It is an unbelievable tale – a true story, in a different country, on someone else’s farm. It was too good not to include in Eduardo’s adventures. I’m sure he still remembers it.

I hope you enjoyed this insight into the character of Eduardo. Let me know if you liked it and which characters you would like to know more about!

Thank you for reading.

Alison