by RJ Krause
Chapter 6
One Ugly Buggah
It was about six months later when I saw Pete again. We had all taken the day off at the ranch to participate in the 4th of July rodeo and barbecue in Waimea. As I was strapping in to compete in the bronco riding contest, I heard a familiar voice.
“Howdy, Bill. Looks like you drew a real wild one.”
The horse I’d drawn was an Appaloosa and he was mighty mean. I was concentrating so hard on that horse, the sound of Pete’s voice took a few seconds to register. When I looked up, there was Pete smiling at me.
“Why hello Pete! I didn’t recognize you at first all duded up like that. Thought you were one of them bankers dressed in those fancy clothes.”
Sure enough, Pete was all dressed up like some kind of big shot. He had on a black silk waistcoat, ruffled shirt, shiny boots, and a top hat.
“I imagine I do look a sight. I had a meeting with some investors from New York this morning and I wanted to meet them on their own terms. Just because I’m a true cowboy at heart, doesn’t mean I can’t play a big shot now and again.”
I asked him what these investors were all about, and he explained they were trying to buy his coffee farm. It seems that awhile back he sent some of his coffee beans back home to his mother in Boston. She served Pete’s coffee to her guests at a social gathering she hosted. Well, it seems that one of those guests took it in his mind that if he got a couple of friends together they could just sail out here to Hawai‘i and buy the whole coffee farm for a song.
I don’t think their meeting with Pete went quite as well as they planned. Pete never said exactly what happened. From the bits and pieces I gathered, when these so-called investors saw that their low offer wasn’t going to be accepted, they tried to intimidate Pete. What I do know is that Pete didn’t sell his land or his coffee. Those men left on the next ship that sailed out of Hilo.
“I guess you’ll be riding next Bill, so I’ll let you get set. Maybe after you put this colt through school, you and I can have a word. Good luck on your ride.”
As I waved to Pete, my horse spooked. He reared up and threw me right there in the chute. Now rodeo bronc ridin’ is a might more difficult than in a corral. In a corral, I can stub the horse until I get set or tight pull the reins. In the chute, I have to mount from the top, get my hand tie secure, and then have the chute opened. If all goes well, the bronc is out in the arena before he realizes someone is on his back. But that didn’t happen this time. I wasn’t set. My hand was still free, and when that horse reared, he knocked me loose from my grip on the chute. Next thing I knew I was flat on my back on the ground inside that narrow chute with horse hooves stompin’ all around me. Let me tell you, that’s one of the scariest moments I’ve ever had.
There are two things all bronc riders fear the most. One is being tied up on a horse, not able to jump free. The other is being thrown off in the chute. As I was layin’ there under that horse, one of its sharp hooves landed along the side of my head and took off part of my ear. As I was trying to roll into the corner another hoof landed on my leg, and I could feel my bone snap. I heard people yelling and right before I passed out, I swear I saw a man in fancy clothes and a top hat riding that mean horse. I figured it was all a dream and I drifted off.
I came to just as they were settin’ my leg. Let me tell you, it is not fun to wake up at the exact moment someone is pulling on a broken bone to get set it straight. I was about to give that doctor a piece of my mind when my big Hawaiian friend, Keala, came into the tent glowing with excitement.
“Brah, I never went see nothing like it!” he exclaimed in local pidgin. “One minute we all standing there watching you get all bust up and not knowing what to do. Next thing we know, that haole with the good coffee went jump over the rail and tell us to open the gate. Braddah, what a ride! He went ride that horse like he was born in the saddle! Oh, sorry Bill. How’s the leg?”
I told him I would be fine, and my big Hawaiian friend leaned closer, looked at my face and my mangled up ear and started to laugh. Now when Keala laughs, his whole body shakes and everybody around him starts laughing too. As sore and beat up as I was, pretty soon I was laughing right along with him.
“What’s so funny?” I asked him.
“Brah, you one ugly buggah anyway, and now with no more ear, you one really ugly buggah,” and he laughed even harder. I reckon laughter is indeed the best medicine a man can get, and pretty soon I was up hobbling around and ready to go.
I asked Keala what had happened, and he explained in more detail about Pete’s ride on that bucking bronco. I knew by the way he told the story that he was quite impressed. I reckon I was feeling a little jealous. I didn’t know Pete that well yet, and after all, I was the one who was supposed to be the bronco rider. But in all the years that have gone by since that day, I never again felt jealous of Paniolo Pete. He just wasn’t the kind of man you needed to be envious of. I reckon it’s because he always played down everything he did. He was a humble man and was always the first to joke about himself.
“If you don’t mind helpin’ a sore old cowboy like me,” I said to Keala, “I’d appreciate it if you’d help me find Pete so I can thank him.”
Keala picked me up and carried me over to where he’d last seen Pete, but to my disappointment, he’d already gone. There’s not much I hate more than being obliged to another man for saving my life. I knew it would bother me plenty, so I had to go find Pete to thank him proper.
“Keala, I reckon if you’ll just put me up on my horse, I’ll be headin’ out. I’ve got a debt of thanks to pay and I best get on with it.”
“Bronco Bill, you one crazy haole! Pete went leave already and you no can ride.”
“I’ve got to go tell him thanks. It’s a matter of pride, and if you don’t won’t help me mount up, at least saddle my horse.”
One thing about Keala that I’ve always admired is his ability to put his own opinions on the side and help a friend. Maybe I was a little rough on him. I was so beat up and sore that I suppose I was feeling a little sorry for myself. I was just about to apologize to Keala when he said, “We go then. If you gotta do this, then more better I go with you to keep you on your horse.”
I won’t try to tell you what it’s like riding a horse over lava rock with a broken leg and an ear all sewed up and a few cracked ribs. I was not a happy cowboy when we crested Mauna Kea volcano just as the sun was coming up. It had been a very miserable night indeed. But when I saw that beautiful sun showing its colors over the ocean, it took my breath away. It was at that moment I got my first look at Pete’s “little spread” as he called it.