Chasing the Eight

Ch. 2

Rebel prances beside me down the concrete balcony, halting only for a moment to smell for whatever it was he thought needed to be smelt. Soaking in the vitamin D we make it two the stairs, as I begin my descent my phone vibrates in my pocket. I dig into my pocket reaching around my keys and who knows what else to find the cracked screen and a notification from Remmy. Remmington and I have known each other forever, and it's probably pretty safe to say that we know almost everything there is to know about each other. Standing at 5'8, with flaming locks of auburn hair, she is a firecracker. She has a mouth of a sailor and a tongue lined with razors, sharp enough to give you the worst tongue lashing of your life. Most people would advise you not to dumb shit, she's the one saying wait for me. Somehow we've conquered life's greatest challenges together and created many not so wise ideas in our time. It is funny how fast you can whip a person holding onto a rope attached to a moving vehicle whilst on ice. Like I say many not so wise ideas. Opening Snapchat, I tap onto her name to be greeted with 14 messages asking where I was if I knew that I was late, and if I got that cowboy's info from last night. Smiling at Rems' way of always jumping back and forth I bid the lady at the front desk a goodbye and walk out the automatic doors. Rebel follows close behind, his blunt nose firmly pressed to the ground.

I reef open the driver's door, the hinges groaning in protest as the dented door swings open wide. That was another idea of Rem's that went south that caused that dent, furthermore causing my insurance to skyrocket. Rebel leaps from the ground into the cab in one swift movement. Circling around a time or two he settles into the passenger seat laying his large head over top of his paws. Following suit I grab the oh-shit handle and pull myself onto the canvas seat. My knee sends a shooting pain through my entire left leg. I forgot about the prequalifying ride that I did not make. I was bucked in the first five, caught by my flank strap, and dragged for about 6 seconds more. The bull doggers worked fast to get me untangled, managing to keep my head and spine away from the bull's large hooves, but still ending up with a kick to the knee. It was nothing too serious tho, a couple of Tylenol and some tensor tape I'll be good as new. I'll have to take it easy at practice if I'm going to make a good ride tonight. 

I slam the door shut, knowing that if I didn't shut it with some force the locking mechanism wouldn't hold. Throwing the transmission into drive and accelerating smoothly I connect with the highway and watch as the white lines pass alongside my truck. I let my hand float along the breeze, surfing the drifts. Rebel yips as his tongue lolls out the window, filling his cheeks with air. His long tail slapped the seat in enjoyment. I press the Bluetooth connect button on my well-used steering wheel.The leather cover worn smooth from countless hours on the road. Voice commanding Spotify. A playlist entitled Noise Complaint blares out from my speakers, the bass reverberating through my core. The tunes flow through me, exciting my nerves and signaling to my body that it's showtime. Was I getting excited perhaps a little but too early, probably yup. Was it going to be worth it? Yup. I just have to get through this practice then the real show will happen. I drew Whiskey Lullaby for my first ride tonight, despite his name he was a menace to ride, unpredictable and almost smug. A large Brahma hump made him a hard seat although his tope colouring made my chaps look mighty nice.

   The county rodeo grounds roll into sight as I take the exit off the main drag, slowing to the max 40km/h sign. Letting the sway of my truck on the uneven gravel ease my remaining nerves I swing my front end into an open grass parking spot. Pulling the key from the ignition and opening the door I grab my rope, vest, and helmet. Grandpa had went and picked these out with me before he had passed. I still remember the wide smile on his face as we loaded the dark leather and turquoise equipment into his crew cab. He knew how much Mama didn't want me rodeo'n but was determined to make my dreams a reality. A feeling of happy sadness overwhelms me, I need to get in a better head-space if I'm gonna do well today. Rebel knowing the drill sprints to the shoots, egging me on to challenge him. Perhaps a solid run would clear the fog from my mind.The dry gravel leaves a cloud of dust behind me as I high tail it over to the chutes and begin to warm up. The standard practice warm-up was a couple of different stretches, used to prevent as much muscle trauma as possible. In the middle of a deep lunge, Remmy catches my eye, an easy smile playing on her heart-shaped face. Now to an untrained eye that smile would be taken as a 'Hey! glad you're here!' but after years of knowing her that smile precisely meant 'Killer hangover, cute cowboy at 2 o'clock, and I got news' Smiling and shaking my head I shift my gaze to 2'o'clock, there was in fact an adorable cowboy talking to one of the older guys who goes by the name West. When I first got into bull riding West had my back the entire way, acting like an overprotective older brother, a friend, and a trustworthy companion. He and his Momma provided a place to stay when Ma & Pa split and helped me to understand which cowboys at the after-parties were cowboys and which ones were the fakes, the lazy cowpokes as he says. Roughies as the rest of us say. Much to my dismay I do gotta admit that them roughys made for a good time. I don't think very many of us gals in the rodeo world could disagree. I try to avert my eyes as West turns to me and his buddy starts to walk my way. By the glint in his eyes, cowboy knew I was staring, dammit. He tips a black cowboy hat towards me and winks. I look at West... He's completely oblivious, real nice.