Rodeo Apprentice

         The horse huffed and Chris grunted as he arched his back, clenched his thighs, and held on.

         Eight seconds of this… oh crap! This was all Chris had time to think before the horse launched him like a ball from a cannon. His grip broke, and he tasted soil and blood as his trajectory ended in a spray of dirt.

         He picked himself up and brushed off his chaps, glaring at the horse, who snorted contemptuously and sidled away. They were supposed to start me off on Silky!

         Gus was sitting on the gate working away at the plug of Red Man like a cow chewing its cud. “Okay for a first time,” he said. “’Course, I was already in competitions at your age.”

         Chris cocked his head and regarded Gus, trying to detect a jive, but Gus’s weathered features betrayed nothing.

         “This is hard! I thought that bronc was gonna break my back!” Chris whined. “You were in competitions when you were twelve?” he asked, his disbelief palatable as the dirt still in his mouth.

         “Dang right I was, and I got the trophies to prove it if you ever want to see ‘em.” Gus hopped off the gate and spat into the dirt. Chris wondered how much of the soil was tobacco.

         “You guys make it look easy.”

         “Well, just keep at it, kid. You gotta master the bronc and find the rhythm, or she’s gonna keep throwing you, like Silky just did.”

         “That was Silky?”

         “Yup. After her, we’re gonna put you on Roscoe. It won’t be so easy the next time. Hey, where you going, kid?”

270 words