Bucked

Four

Kanen

Every cell in my body is electric. The bull I’m riding tonight is the biggest, meanest most badass motherfucker in the whole of Texas, and I’m gonna take him. I’ve been waiting for this moment all day, and as I’m poised above him, I’m full of energy, of unbelievable trilling excitement, of bristling power. I imagine so is the great beast below me, as he huffs and pushes against the walls of the enclosure he’s in, for show. Until I’m dropped on him.

The announcer’s voice turns into a meaningless droning singsong as he revs up the crowd. He’s only on the periphery of my consciousness, because all I’m focused on is the bull. The smell of him, the sight of him. Every molecule of his energy. It all fills me. And I’m ready. I’m so ready.

It’s really just me and the bull. We are the same, me and him. It’s us against the world of people. Of assholes. Of fakery and BS. But when it’s the bull and me we’re cut from the same cloth. We’re made of the same thing. Starlight, anger, and confidence. The sound that indicates the mechanism is going to drop me onto his heaving, black back warns both of us, and his ears twitch and turn. Then it happens.

“Showtime,” I whisper, and then I’m on him, his huge body bucking and writhing as he bursts out of the gate. In split seconds, I anticipate each movement, each motion he makes, compensating for every minuscule twist and turn as it happens. My boots dig into his side, both keeping me on and spurring him to greater and greater leaps and bounds to throw me off. We’re locked in this game, we two, and each second is filled with danger, the possibility of being thrown into the dust. Of breaking a leg. Or worse.

I stick to him like the bad decisions you make when you’re drunk, like the ex-girlfriend that wants you back.

I have no idea what the actual time for normal people would be, but for me it might as well be hours. I try to perceive as slowly as I can, to stay alive and aware every millisecond.

When it finally happens and I’m thrown, as the ground rushes up to meet my head, and the roar of the crowd fills my ears. Hooves rush by my face. A rodeo clown sets out to distract the 2200-pound creature from trampling me to death, and I try desperately to fill my lungs with air. My heartbeat is huge in my ears and I’m full of adrenaline, but it’ll take a moment before I can move or breathe.

When I turn my head, that’s when I see her. It’s Canada, her mouth a round “O,” her eyes wide as saucers. The shock of her presence, here in my audience, watching me with such intensity pushes the air into my body and I can breathe again. That means I can move. I roll up and strut to the door of the arena, narrowly missing the horns of the bull I just dominated. The crowd is going wild, hooting and hollering.

Jack’s waiting for me there. He hands me a towel. I swipe it over my sweat-stained face, and it comes away with the dust of the arena floor on it.

“Holy shit bro, I thought you were going to die out there,” he says, shaking his head. “I was worried about you, bro.”

“Not today,” I smile. “Not today.”

“I guess not. Shit, that was amazing. Some folks are saying that it was record-breaking what you did.” He’s still shaking his head, looking at the floor with his eyebrows raised. “You sure that’s a good idea though? Seems super risky.”

“That’s what I love about it, Jack,” I assure him. “Why would you let yourself possibly get killed by a giant animal like that if you didn’t love it?”

“Well, you make a good point,” he admits. I know I do. “I guess you could do it for money.”

“I have no need for money.” It’s something I don’t talk about, but I’ve been set for money for quite some time now. I had an windfall that I don’t often tell people about. I’m a simple man with simple pleasures, so I give the profits to a financial planner, and he sends me reports every now and then. Mostly I throw them in the trash, open maybe one a year. And that’s enough for me. I know a lot of people have gotten rich offa me, in backdoor bets, betting for me or against, don’t mind me none. I reckon that’s where most of the excitement in the stands came from today.

But not for my little Canada. No, she was there for me, just me, I’m sure of it. She wanted to see me tonight and when I fell, she saw my body, not my effect on her bank account, unlike most of the stands. The way her hands flew up to her pretty face, in happy shock as

I jumped up and shook myself off. The relief in her eyes as I threw her a little wink. She’s something, that little Canada.

I think I’d like to take her home.

Five

Chastity

I never expected the moments watching Kanen would be so grueling. My stomach was in knots as he rode that giant animal. But there was something else too. He seemed in control, unlike the other riders, who were hanging on for dear life, flying around desperately clinging to the animal, every second filled with fear. Kanen was almost majestic, like he was meant to be on that bull.

As the seconds counted down he was low on the bull, his strong arms and shoulders cut in the bright lights of the arena, his tattoos black against his tan skin. His dark hair was flying around in the wind. I’ve never seen someone look so handsome. And when the bull threw him, finally, the crowd erupted in a singular roar, some screaming his name, others with wordless cries of excitement. He lay there for just a little too long, and I was afraid that he was paralyzed, and would be trampled by the bull. But then he turned his head a little, and before long he was up and swaggering over to the side of the stands before jumping to safety.

Did he smile at me, wink at me? I couldn’t tell, but he seemed to, and the tension in my heart melted with the warmth and heat that he somehow brought up in me. There was something inside me that wanted to rush down and go hug him, and tell him that I was glad that he was all right, but I didn’t. It would be absurd, wouldn’t it? I mean I’ve met him once, and we barely know each other, so to do so would be crazy. But still, my heart was telling me to go.

“Hey,” Lacey says. “You okay over there? You haven’t taken your eyes off of Kanen this whole time. He’s all right you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say quickly, tearing my eyes from his lithe frame to look at her. “This is all new to me, Lacey, you know that,” I say. “How do these guys do it without killing themselves?”

“Some people do, I guess,” she smiles. “You want a beer?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, you stay here, I’ll go get us some drinks.”