by Jake Maddox
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1: THE TOUGHEST BULL IN THE DIVISION
CHAPTER 2: AN UNSTOPPABLE FORCE
CHAPTER 3: EIGHT WEEKS
CHAPTER 4: LEFT-HANDED CHORE
CHAPTER 5: BACK ON THE BULL
CHAPTER 6: THE FINALS!
CHAPTER 7: BAD LUCK
CHAPTER 8: RETURN OF THE KING
About the Author
About the Illustrator
Glossary
Discussion Questions
Writing Prompts
More About Bull Riding
Copyright
Back Cover
CHAPTER 1
THE TOUGHEST BULL IN THE DIVISION
Jake Monson took a seat on a bench in the arena prep station. He reached down and pulled on his cowboy boots. The announcer’s voice echoed throughout the arena. In the stands, people cheered. Jake’s turn to ride was coming up soon.
I hope I get a strong bull in the draw, he thought. He was already in the finals, but Jake wanted to win it all. The only way to do that was to ride a high-ranking bull.
“Did you watch me, Jake?” asked his friend Alicia. She sat down next to him, took off her leather gloves, and tossed her safety helmet aside. She put her cowboy hat on instead. She had just finished her final run. Now she could watch the others.
“Of course,” Jake said. “Blue Stinger is a tough bull to ride. You stayed on him all eight seconds. Your score will be awesome.”
Their friend Brandon ran down the arena ramp and into the prep station. “You guys have to see this!” he yelled. “Kyle’s doing it!”
“Doing what?” Alicia asked.
Brandon smiled. “Riding King Minos,” he said. “He’s trying to make it into the semi-finals. His only chance is to ride the toughest bull here.”
The three of them ran up the ramp to get a better view. Soon, they were in the stands next to the bucking chute. Inside the chute, Kyle sat on an enormous bull. That was King Minos. The bull’s snort echoed so loudly that it hushed the crowd. He sounded like a dinosaur.
King Minos had never let any rider last eight seconds. Most riders didn’t even last four. It would take talent to stay on for the full time. Anyone who did it would be known as the best.
Jake knew all of these things. He was the best rider in his division and the reigning champion. No bull had ever thrown him. He had a perfect record.
A buzzer rang through the arena. The gate swung open.
King Minos exploded out of the chute. He violently bucked three times. Each time, Kyle’s body whipped up and down. King Minos whirled and spun.
Kyle managed to stay on, but he tilted to one side. The last series of spins and kicks had nearly unseated him. Jake could see Kyle’s hand slipping off of the bull rope. He was barely holding on. Then King Minos pulled out a violent spin, twist, and kick combo.
Kyle flew high into the air and crashed to the dirt in the arena. Rodeo clowns quickly ran out to round up King Minos. The ride was finished. It had only lasted three seconds. Kyle wouldn’t make the final cut.
“Jeez,” Alicia muttered.
Brandon shook his head. “I know,” he agreed. “Riding that bull is beyond crazy. I can’t believe he even tried that. No rider has ever lasted eight seconds on that monster.”
“Not yet, anyway,” Jake muttered under his breath.
Alicia and Brandon looked at him. “What does that mean?” Alicia asked.
“I’m hoping I draw King Minos,” Jake said to his friends. “I think I can take him. No problem.”
Brandon shook his head. “Your score is already good enough to make it to the finals, Jake,” he said. “What’s the point of riding King Minos? You should just hope for a low-ranked bull and coast into the finals.”
“Brandon’s right,” Alicia said. “What if you get thrown? Or what if you’re hurt? If something happens, you might not be able to ride in the finals.”
“I don’t want to just make the finals,” Jake said. “I want to win. Besides, I’ve never been thrown by any bull.” He shrugged. “That’s not going to change now.”
CHAPTER 2
AN UNSTOPPABLE FORCE
A few minutes later, Jake got his wish. He drew King Minos for his last round. Alicia and Brandon were shocked as Jake headed into the arena.
“Wait!” shouted Alicia. She and Brandon followed Jake down the corridor. “You don’t have to ride. Your first score was good enough!”
Jake kept walking. “I drew King Minos,” he said. “I’m not backing down.”
Alicia and Brandon caught up to him. Brandon grabbed Jake’s arm from behind. “You’re just showing off,” Brandon said. “Your first run was practically perfect. Don’t risk it.”
“This is dangerous,” Alicia added. “Don’t be stupid.”
“It’s only eight seconds,” Jake said. He climbed the railing to the bucking chute. “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
Brandon sighed and shook his head. He nudged Alicia. “Come on,” he said. “We’re not going to change his mind. Let’s get to the stands.”
From the rail, Jake watched the handlers try to guide King Minos into the bucking chute. It took four men to get the bull to the entrance of the chute.
Before entering, Minos shook his head violently. The bull kicked its rear legs at the handler behind him and snorted loudly as the handlers pushed him forward.
Jake looked down at the bull below him. It’s just eight seconds, right? he thought. No big deal. But for the first time, he felt nervous.
Jake took a deep breath and lowered himself onto King Minos. He checked the tape on his leather gloves. Then he grabbed the bull rope and made sure it fit tightly in his right hand.
Fans cheered, filling the small arena with noise. Across the arena, his family was watching. Alicia and Brandon had found seats next to them. Jake smiled and nodded in their direction.
Jake took another deep breath. He felt King Minos trembling beneath him. The bull’s muscles were tense and vibrating with energy.
The arena buzzer blared in his ears. At the front of the bucking chute, the gate swung open. Show time.
King Minos leaped out of the chute, kicking up a cloud of dirt behind him. In that first, long second, the bull spun twice, kicking violently after each spin. Jake tightened his grip and tried to let his body react to the bull’s movements.
The next couple of seconds were a blur. Jake’s head snapped up and down as the bull leaped and kicked. The arena spun around him. Everything seemed to blend together.
King Minos suddenly bucked and kicked his way to the wall. Jake saw the wall coming just before he smashed into it. Dazed, he held on.
Three seconds left, Jake thought.
But King Minos had other plans. The huge bull bucked and kicked his way back into the center of the arena. Jake felt his grip slipping. His legs lost contact with the bull. With another giant kick, King Minos threw Jake off.
Even though Jake’s body was thrown from the bull, his right hand got caught in the bull rope. As he landed, he heard it — a pop from his right shoulder.
Jake tried to untangle his hand. But King Minos dragged him for three whole seconds before he fell loose.
Jake lay crumpled on the ground, his arm on fire with pain. He managed to look up at the arena stop clock to check his time.
Seven seconds.
He’d missed it by one second.
CHAPTER 3
EIGHT WEEKS
Jake sat upright in his hospital bed, a pile of pillows propped behind him. He had bandages wrapped around his right shoulder. A heavy sling cradled his right arm. His dad sat in a chair next to the bed.
“I dislocated my shoulder,” Jake said when Brandon and Alicia walked into the room. “They had to go in and repair some l
igaments or something. I have six stitches. Want to see?”
Jake’s dad shook his head. “The doctor said to keep the bandages on for now,” he said.
“What about the finals?” Alicia asked.
Jake looked down. “The doctor said I can’t use my arm,” he answered.
“For how long?” Brandon asked.
“Eight weeks,” Jake said. “I have to let my shoulder heal for eight weeks.”
Alicia smiled. “Finals are in ten weeks!” she said. “That means you’ll be healed in time to compete. Right?”
Jake’s father shook his head. “I don’t know, kids,” he said. “Jake’s shoulder might be healed in eight weeks, but his arm will still be weak. I don’t think he’ll make the finals. But there’s always next year.”
“Yeah,” Jake said, sighing. “Next year, I guess.”
Alicia said, “Well, get better. We’ll see what happens.”
Brandon shook his head. “One more second, and you would have had it, man!” he said. “That was still really good, though.”
“Thanks,” Jake said.
After Brandon and Alicia left, Jake lay in bed thinking. They warned me about this, he thought miserably. Why didn’t I listen to them?
Jake shook his head. Images of the huge bull flashed in his mind. The bucking. The spinning. The pop of his shoulder. The pain. He couldn’t shake the memory from his thoughts.
“Don’t worry, Jake,” Dad said. “We’ll get you all healed up, and next year you’ll be better than ever!”
“Yeah, right,” Jake mumbled. “Better than ever.”
CHAPTER 4
LEFT-HANDED CHORES
Four weeks later, Jake was more discouraged than ever. He felt like he couldn’t do anything.
He tried helping out his father on the ranch. Mucking the horse stalls really didn’t go well. The rake wouldn’t go where he wanted. Plus, the actual raking part didn’t work. He didn’t have the strength to press down and pull the muck out of the stall with just his left hand.
Jake threw the rake to the ground in frustration.
He decided to try feeding the horses. He went to the feed room and managed to fill a bucket with oats. But when he got to the stall, he realized he had a problem. His good hand was holding the handle.
Great. How am I supposed to tip the bucket? Jakes thought. He leaned over and lifted his knee to tip the bucket. The oats spilled all over the floor.
Angry, Jake threw the empty bucket on the ground and stomped out of the barn.
Outside, Jake’s father watched as he kicked a clump of dirt. Dad took off his gloves and walked over. “Why don’t you help me with this fence rail?” Dad suggested.
“Fine,” said Jake.
His dad lifted the fence rail into place. “Hold this up for me,” he said. Jake lifted the rail and held it while his father drilled the hole.
“I know how you feel,” Dad said.
“What do you mean?” Jake asked. He doubted his dad knew how frustrated and scared he was feeling.
“You had a fall,” his father said. “It happens to everyone. But you’ll be okay. Your arm will heal. And then next season, you’ll get back on that bull, and everything will be fine.”
Jake thought about his fall. “I don’t know, Dad,” he said quietly. “I don’t know if I can do it again. I keep seeing that bull in my head.”
His dad stopped drilling and looked at him. “I know you’re scared,” he said. “You hurt more than your arm when you fell. But the important thing is that you need to cowboy up and get back to doing what you do best.”
“What does ‘cowboy up’ mean?” Jake asked.
“It means overcome your fears,” Dad said. “Dust yourself off and get back on the bull.”
Images of King Minos flashed in Jake’s mind again. He felt his heart racing, and his palms got sweaty.
When he let go of the rail, Jake noticed that his good hand shook with fear. To make it go away, he clenched his hand into a fist.
He shook his head. Get a grip, he told himself.
Just then, he heard a voice calling his name. “Jake!”
Jake turned. Alicia and Brandon were coming across the yard toward him. Both wore their riding gear and carried practice helmets.
“We needed to see old ‘One-Arm’ Jake,” Brandon said. “If your dad is okay with it, we’d like to take a few rides on Hot Streak. Your dad’s bull is always good for a practice run.”
Jake glanced over at his dad to make sure it was okay. Dad nodded.
“You bet,” Jake said. Together, the three of them walked around to the bullpen out back where his dad kept Hot Streak.
Behind the barn, Jake helped Brandon and Alicia get Hot Streak ready. Brandon climbed up onto the bull’s back. When the gate swung opened, the pair shot into the bullpen.
Jake watched as Brandon rode Hot Streak around the practice ring. Brandon held on to the bull rope with his right hand. His left hand was held high in the air as Hot Streak spun, twisted, and bucked. After seventeen long seconds, Brandon finally fell off.
“Good run, Brandon,” Jake said.
“My turn,” Alicia said.
On her ride, Alicia held the bull rope in her left hand. As Hot Streak twisted and kicked, Alicia stayed on the bull. Her right arm waved above her head like a ribbon.
That’s weird, Jake thought. I never realized she was left-handed.
Jake looked down at his right arm in the sling. Then he looked at his good left arm.
“I think I have an idea,” Jake said.
CHAPTER 5
BACK ON THE BULL
Jake was back at the doctor’s office four weeks later. He’d just gotten his sling taken off.
“Your arm is still going to be pretty weak, Jake,” the doctor said as he looked at Jake’s arm. The doctor was doing one last check to make sure his arm was healing. “I want you to try to take it easy, okay?” he said. “Be careful with it.”
“Okay,” Jake said.
* * *
Soon, Jake’s arm started to feel better. He felt stronger each day. After a few days, he could muck the horse stalls and dump oats in the trough without spilling them.
By the time his sling had been off for a week, things were going pretty well. It was time to try to ride again.
“Jake?” Alicia called from the doorway of the barn. “Are you ready to go?”
Jake hung up the feed bucket. “You bet!” he called back.
Behind the barn, Brandon sat on top of the bucking chute rail. Hot Streak rattled in the bucking chute, eager to get out.
“He’s really wound up, Jake,” said Brandon. “You sure you’re ready for this?”
Jake rubbed his shoulder. Am I ready for this? he wondered. Maybe I should wait. What if I fall off again?
Jake thought back to his last ride on King Minos. The fiery eyes. The pounding of the bull’s hooves. He felt his heart race again. The sweaty palms came back.
“Time to cowboy up,” Jake muttered under his breath. He taped his gloves tightly around his wrists. Then he checked his boots and spurs. Everything looked good. Jake used his strong left arm to climb up the rail.
Brandon handed him a safety helmet. “If you’re going to fall, make sure you fall on your good shoulder,” he said.
“What good would that do?” asked Jake. “Then I’d have two bad shoulders.”
“Good point,” Brandon admitted. “Maybe you should try not to fall, period.”
Jake climbed on top of the bull and tucked his left hand under the bull rope. He gripped the rope as tightly as he could.
It felt different holding the rope with his left hand. Everything seemed backward. Here goes nothing, Jake thought. He looked up at Brandon and nodded. Brandon opened the chute.
Hot Streak shot out into bullpen. Jake held on tight with his left hand, but his rhythm and all his movements felt off. He had to think backward. The bull spun and bucked hard. Jake fell off into the mud after just one second.
“Wo
w,” Alicia said. “You’re not a very good lefty, are you?”
Jake didn’t answer. His hands were starting to shake. Just looking at Hot Streak made him think of King Minos.
I have to get a grip and cowboy up, Jake thought. “Again,” he said.
Alicia hopped down from the fence and wrangled up Hot Streak. Brandon set the chute for the next run. Then Jake climbed on board for a second try.
Brandon glanced at Jake to make sure he was ready to go. Jake nodded, and Brandon opened the chute. Hot Streak flew out.
This time, Jake made sure to think backward. He gripped the bull rope tightly in his left hand and let his body flow with the bull. For every kick, buck, and spin, Jake reversed his thinking.
He lasted three whole seconds before Hot Streak tossed him into the mud. His heart was racing, but he didn’t feel panicked. No signs of King Minos anywhere.
“Again!” Jake said, picking himself back up.
He tried again. This time, he lasted five seconds before being bucked into the mud. His clothes were dirty, and mud caked his helmet.
“Again,” he yelled.
On his fourth try, Jake held on for seven seconds. He picked himself up out of the mud again and walked over to the bucking chute. All of his muscles were sore. Alicia and Brandon were waiting for him.
“It’s kind of different doing it left-handed, isn’t it?” asked Alicia.
“Yeah,” Jake said. “But I think I’m getting it.”
“Again?” asked Brandon.
Jake looked at his friend. “Oh, yeah,” he said.
CHAPTER 6
THE FINALS!
A week later, Jake sat in the first row of the Galveston Arena with his parents and sister. It had been three weeks since he’d gotten his sling off. He flexed his fingers and bent his elbow to loosen up. The muscles were still weak.
