Rank

by D. R. Graham

  “It’s your name.”

  “It makes me sound hick.”

  I mimicked her sweeping arm gesture to present to her the grass parking lot in the middle of nowhere that was filled with campers and horse trailers. “I hate to break it to you, but this is about as hick as it gets.”

  “I’m not hick. Call me Shae.” She took two strides, then turned and pointed at me as she walked backwards. “And, by the way, if you decide that you want Tawnie Lang to date you, you should probably know that chewing tobacco is repulsive and ain’t isn’t a word. Quitting the rodeo isn’t going to make you any less hick, Billy Ray Ryan.” She spun back around and stormed off towards her family’s motorhome.

  Tyson Wiese, my brother’s best friend, stole a beer out of the cooler. He grinned at Shae-Lynn’s feistiness as he watched her go. He had a shiner from knocking the bull’s behind when he got thrown, so he squinted at me with one open eye. “I came over to get you. Cole just took a crazy bet.”

  “What?” Not again. “For how much?”

  “Double or nothing on his prize money.”

  “God damn it. What’s he planning on doing?”

  Tyson chuckled as if he didn’t quite believe it himself. “Ride Freight Train for eight.”

  Damn it. That’s crazy. “When?”

  “Right now. Before it gets dark.”

  I hopped off the tailgate and jogged to the chutes cursing Cole under my breath the entire way. The grandstand was empty and there were only a few people still lingering around the edge of the arena fence. The bull named Freight Train was already loaded into a chute and Cole was taping his riding glove around his wrist. I shoved his shoulder. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Ron Miller is going to pay me two thousand dollars to ride one bull.”

  “You mean you’re going to pay Ron Miller two thousand dollars to get tossed off one bull. I already told Mom you won.”

  “I got this. Don’t worry about it.” He put his black mouthguard in, then smiled with the excessive confidence he always had right before he did something stupid.

  “Freight Train is rank. He ain’t never been ridden. He put four guys in the hospital.”

  Cole slapped my shoulder, undeterred. “You worry too much. Besides, I already shook the man’s hand. Let’s go make some money.”

  The only thing harder than getting Cole to do something he didn’t want to do was stopping him from doing something he did want to do. It was usually easier to just let him do whatever he wanted and clean up the pieces afterwards. I gave up trying to argue sense into him, shook my head in frustration, and followed him. We both climbed the chute. It was already loaded with the black hairy mass of bovine muscle that was trying to shoulder its way through the metal rails. “Where are the bullfighters?” I asked.

  “This is between me and the bull,” Cole said, believing the delusion that he was invincible.

  “Jesus, you’re going to get killed.”

  Without even pausing to let it the danger sink in, Cole eased himself down onto Freight Train’s back. “Just pull my rope.”

  “Cole, come on. This is crazy.”

  He looked at me with a wild expression in his eyes and smiled. “You’ll be thanking me later.”

  “I doubt it.” I relented and pushed my boot against Freight Train’s shoulder to get him to move over. Then I pulled the rope as tight as I could. For some reason, what Shae-Lynn had said hadn’t left my head. It was bugging me. “Hey, does it sound hick when I say ain’t?”

  Cole looked at me and laughed at the random question. “Yeah, you sound hick. What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Nothing. I don’t know. Never mind. Just don’t get yourself killed.”

  When Cole finished weaving the loose end of the rope through his fingers, I slapped him three times on his back. He tucked his chin and nodded.

  It was that fast — no time to think about it meant no time to change his mind. That was how Cole did everything. Tyson opened the gate to the chute, Ron pulled the flank strap, and Freight Train exploded straight up in the air. His back hoof just missed catching my face and instead, sprayed me with a sloppy mix of dirt and manure.

  “Whoo!” Tyson hollered. “Hold on, Cole. Yeah, baby.”

  I glanced at the clock then back at my brother. It started out as a good ride. Then Freight Train sucked back and rolled his belly. Cole slid off balance. Since all he had to do was hold on, it didn’t matter that it wasn’t pretty.

  When the buzzer rang at eight seconds, I exhaled and turned to smile smugly at Ron Miller. He threw down his hat in frustration, but his expression immediately changed. Without hesitating, he leapt over the fence into the arena. I spun around to see what he was doing.

  Cole was hung up.

  He was dangling by one arm and Freight Train was slamming him against the fence. I couldn’t move. My mouth went dry and my knees felt as if they were going to give out on me. The image of my dad being hung up flashed. Then I blinked and saw Cole again.

  Adrenaline flooded into my veins and snapped me out of my paralysis. I jumped into the arena and ran across the thick soft dirt to the other side, but Freight Train changed directions before I got there. Ron and Tyson headed him off and made him veer away from the fence. Cole was still hung up bad and his legs were getting trampled.

  Three more cowboys jumped into the arena, but none of us had experience bullfighting. Tyson was able to release the flank strap. All that did was stop Freight Train from kicking. He was still sprinting around and ramming Cole against the rails. Freight Train came straight at me, so I waved my arms to slow him down. He dropped his head and tried to horn me. I lunged to the left, but he got close enough to brush me. I wasn’t wearing a protective vest, so he tore right through my shirt. When he circled around, I jumped on his shoulder and tried to free Cole’s bull rope. It wasn’t possible to get a good hold of it because the bull jerked in the other direction and took Cole with him, knocking me on my ass.

  Before I had a chance to stand up, a palomino horse blew by me at full speed. It was Shae-Lynn riding bareback on her barrel horse, Harley. She raced around the arena to catch up with Freight Train. It took her a few attempts before she was able to manoeuvre her horse to nudge the bull off the rails and pull in alongside. She tried to lift Cole by his Kevlar vest, but she wasn’t strong enough to carry his weight. Cole attempted to kick his leg up onto Harley. His arm hung like it was made of string, though, and he couldn’t get enough momentum. When his legs dropped back down, they got stomped by Harley’s hind hoof.

  “Free the rope,” I yelled.

  Shae-Lynn leaned over and tugged at the rope, but Freight Train turned into Harley and the jolt almost threw her over the front. Tyson stepped into the sight of the bull to redirect him back. Shae-Lynn repositioned, then tugged at the rope one more time.

  Cole fell to the ground.

  “Get up,” I shouted as I ran towards where he was lying in the dirt. “Get up!”

  Freight Train spun around to face Cole. He snorted air out of his nostrils and hoofed the dirt getting ready to charge. Cole scrambled to his feet and hurried to the fence with his right arm flopping around. I ran between Cole and Freight Train. My plan was to distract him long enough to let Cole get to the fence — I distracted him all right — he forgot all about Cole and stampeded full speed at me before ramming his massive rock hard head into my ribcage.

  He lifted his snout and launched me into the air.

  After what seemed like eight seconds, gravity kicked in and the ground finally collided with my body, crushing all the air out of my lungs. My throat made a horrible sucking sound, but it didn’t actually pull any oxygen into my chest. I couldn’t move.

  “Get up, Billy!” Cole shouted, frantic.

  As I stared up at the darkening sky, waiting for my body to start working, I thought about how they were all going to mock me for getting freight trained by Freight Train. I was about to laugh at the irony when a huge hoof slammed down
on my cheek.

  The left side of my face shattered like a dropped teacup.

  At first, everything was silent except for my pulse thudding through my ears. The side of my face felt warm and wet. When my hearing came back, I heard shouting. Then Shae-Lynn whimpered. “Oh my God. Billy.” She knelt beside me and her hand wrapped around mine. “Call an ambulance,” she shouted over her shoulder. “Somebody call an ambulance!” She started crying.

  “Oh shit,” Cole said. I couldn’t see him. I could only hear the panic in his voice. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Ty, it’s bad. He’s hurt bad. It looks bad.” He kept his distance because he couldn’t handle the sight of blood. He never could handle it, but it got worse after we both witnessed our dad get killed. “How bad is it?”

  Tyson crouched on my other side and took an objective look at my face. He scrunched his nose. “He’s conscious, but his face is caved in.”

  “Oh my God. There’s so much blood,” Shae-Lynn whispered. “We have to get him to the hospital.”

  “Shae-Lynn,” I tried to say, but it sounded like a gurgle because blood was pooled in the back of my throat. I turned my head and coughed out thick dark red liquid. Unfortunately, the coughing made the broken bones shift around. It hurt real bad. I stuck my fingers in my mouth and pulled out the tobacco along with three teeth. I squeezed her hand. “Make sure he takes his medication.”

  “I will. Don’t even worry about anything.”

  “That —” I had to cough again. “— was dangerous.”

  “Yes, it was. You’re an idiot.”

  I tried to smile, but moving my face made blood gush out. “Not me. You.”

  “Don’t talk, Billy. Oh God. Cole, do something. He’s bleeding to death.”

  “Where’s the damn ambulance?” Cole yelled.

  That was the last thing I remembered.

  Chapter 2

  Seven Months Later

  I was in my room at my mom’s house messing around on my guitar when Cole opened the door without knocking. He leaned his shoulder on the doorframe and grinned like he was up to something.

  “What?”

  “Is your bag packed?”

  I shook my head, knowing he was going to launch into another round of high school peer pressure tactics to convince me to go on tour with him. “I told you, I’m not going. My vision is still messed up in my left eye.”

  He dismissed my excuse with a wave. “The doctor said you’re fine to ride.”

  “I think I know if my eye is too messed up to ride better than she does.”

  His posture collapsed into phase two of his pressure tactic, which was whining. “Come on, Billy. Don’t be a buzz kill. What are you going to do around here until September?”

  “Work and take care of Mom,” I said for likely the millionth time since I told him I was retiring.

  “We can hire a nurse for Mom. You’ll make more money on the circuit than what you make at the bar.” Logic. Phase three.

  “Hank Pollert needs a ranch hand. I told him I could help out during the week, so I’ll be making two incomes.”

  “You don’t want to be stuck here all summer doing that.”

  “You’re going to be stuck here all summer doing that, too. Your shoulder is still too messed up to ride.”

  “What are you talking about?” He patted his arm roughly to prove its sturdiness. “It’s as good as new.”

  “You haven’t even been on a bull in seven months.”

  “I’ve been training.”

  “On saddle Broncs and mechanical barrels. It’s not the same. You’ll go one go on a bull and be done for the season.”

  “Come with me just this weekend. If I get tossed, you can come home. If I win, we go on tour.”

  Bargaining. That was an angle he hadn’t tried before. He must have been getting desperate. Not interested, I strummed the strings of my guitar. “No thanks.”

  “You weren’t really serious about quitting, were you?”

  “I didn’t quit. I retired.”

  “You can’t retire. You’re twenty years old.”

  “Well, I did.”

  “Fine. You can be retired from bull riding and still come with me as my manager.”

  “No.”

  “I got a surprise for you. Look out the window.” He held the curtain back and pointed like a hyper kid.

  When it became obvious that he wasn’t going to leave unless I looked, I rested my guitar on the bed and walked over to the window. Attached to the back of his pickup was a silver camper.

  “Do you like it? It’s got a kitchen and a shower.” He went on to list a bunch of top of the line features like a salesman.

  “I don’t care if it’s got a porch and an attic. I’m not going.” I sat on the edge of the bed and unfolded the paperwork from the University of Saskatchewan that I needed to fill out in order to reapply. “I have responsibilities. I can’t dick around on the circuit anymore.”

  “I promise not to get killed.”

  The image of Dad getting stomped flashed through my mind and made my muscles flinch involuntarily. “Yeah, well, that could happen whether I go with you or not.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  I looked up and stared at him for a while. I hated being he reason for the disappointed look on his face, but I had to stand my ground. “I don’t want to go.”

  “I need to do this, Billy. I can’t end my career like that, and I need you there or I won’t be able to get back up on a bull.”

  And, the guilt trip. Final phase. “Nobody cares if you quit.”

  “I do, and Dad would have.”

  I scoffed. “Look where that attitude got him.”

  Cole wandered across the room and stared out the window at the trailer for a while. Honouring Dad’s memory was not an angle that was going to work on me and Cole obviously realized it because he sat on the edge of my desk and tried another approach. “Rodeo is all I know. It’s the only place I feel like myself.”

  “I’m not stopping you from going. I just don’t want to go.”

  “Who’s going to make sure I take my medications?”

  I shook my head, not buying his useless act.

  “Who’s going to remind me to fill out my forms?”

  I propped the guitar back on my lap and practiced my picking, hoping he would eventually run out of arguments and go.

  “Who’s going to drag me out of bed and make me scrambled eggs every morning?”

  “You can learn to do all that for yourself.”

  He pushed his hat back and propped his hands on his knees. He thought for a while then he said, “Mom will worry herself sick if you aren’t there watching over me.”

  I sighed and rolled my eyes, wishing he would just give up and leave without me.

  “Rodeo is all you know, too.”

  “Yeah, well that’s the problem. I don’t want to spend my whole life riding bulls and have nothing to show for it but a trunk full of buckles, arthritis, and an empty bank account. Besides, Mom needs my help around here.”

  “Come on, Billy. Just one more season. I need someone to slap my back for good luck. I can’t do that myself.”

  Shit. I blinked hard then glared at him. Although it was nearly impossible to talk him into or out of things, with me, it was just a matter of finding the one thing that struck a chord. The back slap was that thing. The satisfied grin on his face made it clear that he knew he’d finally stumbled onto the bullseye.

  “Please, Billy.”

  I rubbed my face and gave in. “Fine, one weekend, but if you wreck, I’m not going to help you.”

  “Deal.” He clapped his hands.

  “I must be crazy,” I mumbled as I got up to pack my bag.

  “We both know I’m the crazy one.” He tackled me onto the bed and wrapped his arms around me in a headlock to roughhouse. “Ooh, look at that. My baby brother is still stronger than me. Maybe we’ll get you back on a bull yet.”

  I twisted out of his hold and pinned him ac
ross the throat. “I will always be stronger than you, but I’m never getting on a bull again.”

  “You lost your nerve?”

  “No. One of us has to stay alive to take care of Mom. We both know it isn’t going to be you.”

  “You got that right.” He pushed his hands into my chest and launched me off him. “Stop horsing around and get your bag packed. That shiny new camper is pulling out of here in exactly eight seconds.”

  When we arrived at the rodeo, we parked in the participants’ area and the smell of dust, diesel, and dung descended on us. Cole inhaled and smiled the same way he did when he took the first puff of a cigarette after quitting for a while. “Smells like home, don’t it?” He swatted my shoulder and then headed over to the indoor arena to sign in.

  I kicked at the dirt, raised my face up to the warm sunshine, and inhaled. It did kind of feel like home. I put my hat on and followed Cole to the arena. A girl with long strawberry red hair was practicing barrels on a palomino horse. I leaned my elbows on the rail and watched. Her turns were the tightest I’d ever seen and then she let it rip home.

  “Damn,” I said to Cole. “That girl is going to give Shae-Lynn a run for her money.”

  “That is Shae, you idiot.”

  I squinted and tried to make out her face. She looked different. It was definitely Harley, though. “Has her hair always been red?” I asked, confused why I hadn’t noticed that before.

  “I don’t know,” he replied, not actually caring. “I’ll be right back.”

  I nodded to acknowledge I heard him, but I was more focused on Shae-Lynn walking Harley around to cool him down. I was pretty sure her hair used to be dirty blonde or light brown. I couldn’t remember for some reason. When she noticed me, I tipped my hat. She smiled and waved, but then frowned and turned to walk him in the opposite direction.

  “Hey, Cole,” a girl behind me said.

  I looked over my shoulder. Cole wasn’t around. Tawnie was smiling at me. “Uh, Cole’s signing in. I’m his brother, Billy.”

  “Oh, sorry. You look alike.” She held out her hand to shake mine. “Nice to meet you. I’m Tawnie Lang.” She bit the corner of her bottom lip and slid her hands in her back pockets, which made her top stretch across her chest and the fabric gape between the buttons. “Actually, who am I kidding? I knew you were Cole’s brother. I was just looking for an excuse to come over and introduce myself.”