by Gina Cole
Turning off all the switches downstairs, she raced up the stairs to her little apartment above the garage. The open screen windows allowed a breeze even in the September evening.
Charlotte very rarely ran the A/C unless she absolutely had to. Her job involved her working in the outdoors, and she rarely noticed the lack of cold air in the evenings after sweating all day. Unzipping the coverall, she stepped out of it and put it in the hamper by the washer dryer combo that sat flush to the kitchen. Charlotte grabbed a beer and headed towards the bathroom, padding along the carpet in her skivvies in the distinctly feminine room.
Floral cushions on the chairs, a small floral loveseat and a lace coverlet set the tone for the small apartment. Downstairs? Manly and businesslike! Upstairs? Womanly! she thought wryly as she flipped on a pink end table lamp giving off a soft glow to the room. Living up to her self-made promise, Charlotte plunked a bath bomb into the tub with a flourish as the water ran. She proceeded to enjoy some well-deserved peace and quiet and reflect on the day’s events.
2
He was bored.
Jack had gotten into bull riding competition on a dare. And now, years later, it was his career. There was a tremendous rush in bull riding and it was addicting. The high you felt as you were in the gate? The bull quivering angrily underneath you? Heart beating, blood roaring, the crowd muffled as you focused on the bull’s angry breaths heaving in and out of him. It was an endorphin rush he was addicted to. His mind and body knew that at any moment, the gate would fly open, launching him either into success or pain.
Massive, great, heaping amounts of screaming pain.
There was no in-between. Either you stayed on the bull or you got thrown. Being thrown hurt, but not near what being trampled did to a body! Jack Seguin definitely preferred staying on the bull and cashing his check. That is what made him good at what he did. This is what made him a career man.
He could read the bull, tell the signs. It was like they were almost circling each other as the great beast tried to fling him off. Teeth-jarring, enraged stomping would sway into vicious turns. What Jack found is that if you became limber, flowing with each jump like a rag doll, you stayed on. Fighting the bull, tensing up or losing focus got you thrown.
That rush was long since gone.
The surge of adrenaline was fading. Instead of it being the greatest thrill, it felt like work. It hurt. Things that didn’t ache before and had been broken or twisted over the years now ached or protested his every move at times. He felt old, yet he was barely thirty-five.
Bull riding had been lucrative, allowing him to purchase land and build a small house. But it had also taken its toll. Once, he wanted to be in the big city, with the lights and atmosphere. But now, he preferred his bit of property in Navasota, Texas. It was small and quaint still even with the larger towns around it. He had a few more rides in him, but that was simply to pad his nest egg. He wanted to retire without worry in a small, comfortable lifestyle. Jack wanted time for himself, to enjoy a hobby or get to enjoy some peace and quiet. Not sleeping in the next bus to the next town.
Tonight’s ride had no appeal. Waiting for the next broken bone or hearing the godawful crunch of his bones over the din of the crowd. The thought of ending up gored, broken or hospitalized lingered in his mind. He was skittish and that was dangerous.
The show tonight, at least, was close to home and he could sleep in his own bed tonight. There was that much to be said for it. Jack woke, spent some time stretching and working the tight muscles of his body trying to loosen them up for his performance. Giving up on the stretches, he opted to have his morning coffee in a small hot tub off the back deck. The heat of the water allowed his muscles to relax, getting him a deeper stretch. He would be back in the hot tub again tonight before taking off for the next show.
As he soaked and stretched his limbs in the hot tub, Jack looked out over the rolling hills. It would be a hot one later today but, for now, the air felt cool against his heated skin. He loved that there was no one else nearby. It felt peaceful and serene. That was the reason he had bought the place. It was outside of town but close enough to be convenient if he needed something.
As he had driven down the farm road, he thought the realtor was nuts as they drove down a gravel drive. Instead of insanity, it was complete understanding he found. The little, thin man had listened, understood and sensed what he was looking for apparently because in front of him lay the Garden of Eden. In fact, that is what he called the property: Heavenly. Jack had welded horseshoes and other metallic items into a sign that he mounted along the fence line. A massive, well-worn, split tree served as the very bottom rail of the fence and here he nailed the carefully crafted letters.
He left the unpaved gravel drive as it was, simply because it was a breathtaking, long route back towards the hills. Jack never dreamed he would ever try to purchase more than an acre of land. But when he was shown this property, he had to have it on the spot. Thirty acres of green rolling, grasses, a small creek and an entire hillside covered in bluebonnets gave him more than he could have ever asked for.
The house on the property had been quite rustic, but it functioned. Once he cleaned it out, he built a deck on the back and put a hot tub upon it. He thought once that the place would be a bachelor’s pad and that he would get some use out of the hot tub with the ladies. Instead, the use he got out of it was only for himself. Grinning, he thought of how lame it sounded to his own ears much less anyone else’s.
“Oh yeah, Jack’s got a place for the ladies complete with a hot tub he uses to stretch his sore ass aching body,” he mumbled and took a big sip of the black coffee before setting it down on the window ledge nearby.
“Jack, the ladies’ man,” he groaned and winced as he tried stretching his hamstrings out again. His body screamed as the tight muscles refused to let loose.
“Dammit,” he muttered, dreading the ride tonight.
After a time, Jack exited the hot tub and headed into the house. Already, his muscles were loosening up and giving him some relief. He rubbed ointment on his legs and hips to allow a bit more relief. The foul peppermint smell stung his nose, but he could instantly feel the heating and cooling sensation causing his body to release.
Washing his hands, he pulled on his favorite pair of Levi’s and boots. Grabbing a plaid show shirt with pearl buttons, he remembered fondly how much he hated the idea of “fancy buttons”. After having been nearly gored, yanked from a horse or jerked out of the path of a bull, those fancy snap buttons gave way saving his life more than once. He never saw the appeal until he needed them and now wouldn’t perform without them. He put the plaid shirt on and skipped the belt. No need to give the animal something to catch his horn on, he thought. Slapping a hat on his head, he glanced in the mirror to see a tired reflection looking back.
“Almost done, old man,” he mumbled and stretched deeply, extending his arms far over his shoulders, reaching down towards his boot tips. He was willing to try anything at this point to loosen up his body. He was bored, tired of hurting and looking for more…but what?
3
Charlotte was excited to collect her cash winnings, more so than her tickets. Her tickets were “Gold Buckle seats”. She had originally laughed at the description until she saw the faces of the radio employees. They were downright hostile and not shy about it.
“If you don’t like rodeos, why’d you even call in?”
“You can forfeit your tickets and we’d be happy to give them to someone who wants them,” the blonde at the counter snapped. Stunned by the vehemence that came from the two ladies, Charlie assured them that she wanted the tickets. She gaped at the estimated value on the form she was about to sign as she saw the cost. Then she bit her tongue to keep from asking for the monetary value of the tickets instead. She gratefully accepted them and ran like hell from the office.
Hopping in her old pickup truck, Charlie rolled down the windows and pulled her hair back in a ponytail. She tucked the tickets in he
r wallet and zipped the enclosure to make sure they wouldn’t fly out as she drove from town. Perhaps she would just go instead of scalping them. Scalping them was illegal and if she couldn’t afford the cosmetic items for her project car, she sure couldn’t pay for them if she had to pay a fine or bail money. Instead, she called her friend and invited her to go with her.
“Rodeo? Seriously?” she heard Beth’s voice chirp on the other line. “You never get out and now you are going to see a rodeo?”
“I do so get out! And it’s a yes or no question, Beth. Yes, you want to go? Or no, you don’t?” Charlie asked sarcastically in the phone.
“When is it?”
“Lemme look,” she said, feeling a bit stupid for not even looking at the tickets.
“You bought tickets and didn’t check the date?”
“I didn’t buy them. I won them on a radio contest,” she replied absently, thumbing through her wallet between gas receipts and such. She couldn’t imagine the chaos she would have at the bottom of a purse if her wallet was any indication.
“Shaddup! You actually won something?” Charlie held the phone from her head and flinched as Beth screeched into the receiver in shock. It really was odd that she won but it was definitely due at some point. Beth didn’t have to be so darned shocked about it. Her surprise was a bit insulting.
“I know, right?”
“No way! You never win anything, dork.”
“I won these! And they are for September 12th,” Charlie gasped. “Crap! They are for tonight!” Sheer panic set in almost immediately. She had to get ready and make sure there was no one waiting at the shop when she got back. If there was, they absolutely had to leave the car this time or buy out her tickets. She never won and, for the first time, she was going to enjoy her prize!
“Good thing I have no life,” she heard Beth say in a monotone voice. Here we go, Charlie thought. It was a slippery slope for her friend sometimes and if she got in a funk, everyone knew it. Thankfully, it was easy to coax her out of it as well.
“Sure, you do!” Charlie protested, “Seriously though, it’s short notice. Do you want to go?”
“Yeah, I’ll go with you. Have any shitkickers?”
“Any what?” Charlie asked, laughing at the term.
“Boots! Shitkickers are slang, girl. I knew you never got out from under the hood of that car, either that or the carbon monoxide from the shop is getting to you.”
“Har-de-har-har and no. No, boots unless they are my steel-toed boots for work. Would that be all right?”
“Good Lord, no! C’mon over and I will loan you a pair of mine.”
“You don’t mind?”
“As long as you don’t step in a cowpie, no, I don’t mind. You know I’d do anything for you. It’s the least I could do in return.”
“No cowpies, I promise.”
“See you in a bit then and beer is on me since you have the tickets.”
Hanging up the phone, Charlie left the apartment, started up the truck and pulled out onto the road. She drove for a time before pulling off the main drag to the side road where Beth lived. She saw the older Nissan 280x in the driveway and itched to get her hands on it, but Beth’s roommate never brought the car to her. She didn’t even know if it ran. Charlie knocked on the door and Beth yanked it open with a wide grin. “C’mon in, big winner,” she drawled loudly and held the door for Charlie.
“I don’t know about ‘big winner’ but…” Charlie teased and held up the tickets.
“These are ringside seats. We are gonna be sniffing horse sweat all night long! Yee haw!”
Scrunching her nose, Charlie said, “Since you put it like that,” she hesitated, thinking of the last time she went to a zoo and the stench.
“Horse sweat and sexy cowboys!” Beth said, winking. “The two will cancel each other out. And with enough beer, you won’t smell a thing,” she told Charlie firmly. “Put those on.”
Charlie eyed the brown and black boots that stood in the corner. She was wearing a summer maxi dress that buttoned up to her bosom and she was completely sure that those boots were not designed to be worn with her dress.
“I think I will wear my sandals,” she said, peering at her feet.
“No, you don’t,” Beth said with a grin and threw a pair of socks at Charlie from around the doorway where she had disappeared a moment ago. “No sandals or you will be covered in dirt by the end of the night. The boots will look great and if you unbutton that top button…”
“I will look like a hussy falling out of my dress?”
“No, you will look like a single woman trying to wrangle herself a cowboy,” Beth said, finishing her original thought.
Beth took that moment to come around the corner in the tightest pair of jeans that Charlie had ever seen. “Damn, Beth! You paint those on?” she said, shocked at the outline of her friend’s body.
“No, but if you are looking, then some of the cowboys will be, too,” she said aggressively and winked at Charlie.
“Well, that much is true,” Charlie admitted and put on the socks and boots. She had to admit that she could see why people wore the leather boots. They were extremely comfortable and felt better than her favorite sneakers. Looking down, she was surprised to see that she liked the look of them as well. “Not bad.”
“Right?” Beth agreed, pulling on her own elaborate boots that had flecks of blue on the panels and a strange print to them. Charlie later found out that they were Beth’s favorite boots and made of ostrich skin.
This was Beth’s domain today they would be in: cowboys, rodeo, country music, etc. Charlie would be looking around at everything today just to absorb the experience, if nothing else. She was out of her element. If you asked her what the torque specs were for an intake manifold, she could tell you. But this? This was new…and a bit exciting!
Beth was happy to be going and, frankly, that is why Charlie adored her. Beth’s enthusiasm was infectious and exhilarating. When Beth was happy, nothing bothered her and everything made her smile. When she was in a mood, she quickly perked back up. Charlie loved that about her friend. Beth locked arms with her and yelled “Bye!” loudly towards her roommate, whom Charlie had yet to meet or see. The two practically ran to Charlie’s truck, excited to be on their way.
The rodeo was nothing like Charlie had ever seen before. So many vendors and booths crowded the line of tents circling around the arena. Charlie had thought it would be outside and she was shocked that it was big enough to command the need for usage of the large arena. Beth bought herself a large turquoise set of earrings and a pair of much daintier ones for Charlie. “In exchange for the ticket,” she explained.
“I thought you said beer was the price you’d pay,” Charlie said with a grin. She really didn’t indulge except occasionally. For her to have two beers in a week was unusual and it sounded like Beth had planned on Charlie setting a record today.
“I meant beer, too!” she affirmed and grabbed her by the hand, dragging Charlie to another vendor who gave them each a large plastic boot with a handle on the side. Each was filled with the cold, foamy, bitter liquid. There was no selection, it was what they had on hand and it was honestly pretty darned smooth, surprising Charlotte.
Several air horns went off and a loud announcement over the speakers announced that the rodeo would be starting in the next thirty minutes. This was their signal to make their way to the seats. Glad she had thought to braid her hair once they arrived, she was surprised at the difference between the outside versus the inside of the arena. It was cool inside and a pleasant difference from the hot September sun.
They went through security and down deep inside the bowels of the large arena that was lit with fluorescent lights. She could see the dirt floor below as well as several metal gates on large stalls. The stalls sat empty for the time being but would soon be occupied. The seats were amazingly close and just behind the metal stalls.
“Great, they are fantastic seats. We get a bird’s eye view of a horse
crapping!”
“Ha, ha,” Charlie teased back. “I didn’t pick them, but it’s pretty neat to be so close. I can do without the horsey poop, thank you very much.”
“I’m just yanking your chain,” Beth joked. “I’ve never been this close up before.”
“Me neither,” she agreed and silently toasted her friend with the half-empty boot. Her head was spinning already from the foamy, tart brew. She vowed that she was going to refill her boot with water or anything else other than a beer.
“This stuff is strong. Want to finish mine?”
“Live a little, you prude. Drink the beer, watch the show and hook yourself up with a little something hot to trot! You asked for the beer and you deserve a bit of fun,” she teased as the crowd began to roar excitedly.
4
Charlotte stared, fascinated at the scene unfolding in front of her. Several people rode out in a line, carrying an assortment of flags. The flags were the six flags that had flown over Texas throughout the years. It was a reminder of where they came from and where they were now as the United States flag finished the line, instantly drawing the crowd to its feet.
Standing, they looked at each other and quickly put their hands over their hearts. A lone woman walked out between the horses and up to a single microphone. As she belted out the National Anthem, Charlie felt herself blinking back tears at the sight of the cowboys, the horses and the flags. It was humbling and made her feel proud. The loud “yee haw” that the woman yelled into the microphone made her jump as suddenly the exhibition hall exploded in a flurry of activity.
“Here we go!” Beth yelled over the din, jumping up and down excitedly.