Bucked

“Remember your last day, when you served that guy?”

“I’ve only replayed it in my mind every minute since it happened,” I grin.

“Well the bartender says that that customer, the one who was friends with the owner, and the one...well, you know.”

“That I spilled beer on and Kanen punched, yes, yes,” I say.

“Well it turns out he has friends in Homeland Security.”

I sit down, hitting the chair pretty hard. “Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“And I guess he was pretty pissed off.” She takes a sip of her wine and sets the glass down. “Remember he said he was going to make you pay?”

I nod slowly. That’s right. He was planning on making both of us pay. I thought they were idle words, but I guess he actually meant it. “He’s playing hardball now.”

“Exactly.” She grabs a chip, but never actually puts it to her mouth. “And he’s pissed. The reason that the restaurant isn’t going to be charged is because he doesn’t want to get the owner in trouble. He just wants you and Kanen to go down.”

“Go down?” My mind is filled with an image of Kanen actually going down when he’s riding. I was the one that mentioned that he was a “bull rider” and not a “buffalo jockey.” I wonder if he’s going to try to screw Kanen over in the arena somehow. If Kanen “goes down” in the arena, it could mean death.

Twenty-Four

Kanen

I turn on the shower, pull off my shirt, and let my jeans slide down my legs. As the room begins to fill the steam, I realize how empty my bedroom seems with Chastity gone. She was only here a week, and it wasn’t the easiest week for her, but it seems so natural having her with me. I do miss her. And that sucks.

As I step into the shower and let the hot water cascade down my shoulders, part of me just wants to wash my hands of the whole relationship. It’s just one small part, granted, but it’s a strong part. It’s the part of myself that I keep hidden, because of the way it’s been treated every time I’ve let it out. I know that she’s seen it, and she’s been good with it so far, but I don’t think it can bear to be broken anymore.

The shower fills with the rich smell of the sudsy shampoo I’m using. I smooth it over my hair, and rinse it out, then turn and let the full blast shower spray over my face.

Tonight, I’m riding a new bull, and I’ve heard he’s a mean one. They say it’s a little early for him to be let out into the rodeo. He’s full of piss and vinegar, and a hell of a lot of testosterone. But that’s just the kind of animal that the crowd loves. They don’t want to see an old broken-down bull. And as I bend to wash my legs and feet, the little aches and pains in my body remind me that soon I’m going to be that old broken-down bull that nobody wants to go see.

Well, at least tonight I’m going to have the support of the kids from the shelter. They’re always excited to see me. And, like Canada, I know it’s for me and not for the money I can make for them. I’m starting to wonder if I shouldn’t hang up my cowboy boots and say goodbye to this career. It might be nice to wash it off just like I’m washing this dirt from my skin.

Still, it was nice to have that girl here. I didn’t feel so alone, tumbling around this big old house by myself. Always someone to talk to, someone to hold me, someone to hold. Might be nice to start thinking about having a normal life. Maybe a kid or two. Is Chastity the girl?

I squirt some conditioner in my hair and rinse it out quickly. When I get out of the shower, I feel like a new man. Lots of thoughts running through my head, and hopefully down the drain. Tonight’s an important ride for me and I got to keep all my faculties about me. I can’t be thinking about anything other than staying on th

at bull just as long as I can.

When I get to the arena, my boys are waiting. Jack called me from Philly to wish me luck as well. The other cowboys are milling around, their nerves under strict control, their lips tight and the jaws set.

Only my friend Bill is sounding upbeat and jocular. “You ready for this new bull?” he asks. “You ready to wreck another one, Wrecker?”

“You know it,” I answer. It doesn’t really matter how I feel now; it’s all about those seconds that last for years—that time on the animal’s back. It will matter how I feel then, and only then. “I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”

“I hear that,” Bill says. “People are saying it’ll be a night to remember.”

“I figure we should be remembering all our nights,” I say, thinking of Chastity. I don’t think I’ll ever forget those moments with her. And if I’m lucky, there’ll be lots more to come.

I can hear the stands filling up above us, all the cowboy boots making their way into the pews of their makeshift church for the night. And I’m their Savior.

I wonder if Chastity’s going to come tonight. I told her she didn’t have to, as it’s her first night back home and I know she’s not fully healed. But I would be surprised if I get on the bull and when I search the seats, she’s not there.

I peek my head out into the crowd, and the energy’s building not only in me, but in them. There’s something I love about the feeling just before it all gets started. It’s like everybody is coming together, anticipating something real. Now whatever is happening in their regular lives, fast food places, the corporate offices, or even a ballgame, all of that can be fixed. At the rodeo, there is no faking, because it’s only man and the animal. An animal can’t lie, or plot. It’s just going to fight, try to win, and that’s real. Of course, there’s always redneck yahoos out there who don’t give a shit about anything but drinking beer, getting in fights, getting loud. But those aren’t the people I do it for, if I do it for anybody but myself.

Tonight, I’m going to do it for the kids. I’m going to try to live up to their perception of me, which ain’t going to be easy. Forget this new bull, it might be the toughest job yet.