Taken By The Bull

Maybe it would let her go. Maybe it was still sleepy. She hoped it was. Heart hammering against her ribs like the music at the climax of a movie she took a slow half-step back, slipping the chain and ring inside her jeans pocket; then another step-

Then the bull tucked its head down and came for her; over a ton of rage and territorial instinct running on thunder, faster than any human could move.

She froze into place, as it hurtled her way, frozen as if it were only a bad dream – Oh no no no please don’t! – before her muscles unlocked and she threw herself to the side, barely avoiding the animal that came at her like an incoming train.

The impact knocked the air from her lungs, she tasted fresh grass as she landed face down in the dirt. All she could think was how stupid she’d been, how she should have known to stay on the safe side of the fence – but she was scrambling up onto her feet instantly with every nerve in her body pumped and singing, panic and terror flooding her brain as her chest hitched in desperate, fearful gasps.

The bull wheeled around, nostrils flaring as it stamped its forefeet on the ground again, huge shoulders rippling. It was between her and the fence.

“STEVE!” Even as she screamed his name, even as she called for him she knew – what could he do to help her? “STEVE!”

She didn’t wait for the bull to come at her again – she knew it would. Turning, she ran blindly for the trees, the tall grass and shrubs that grew in their shade tearing at her jeans. The thunder rumbled, but it was the thunder of the earth and not the sky – it swelled and she ducked in between the small space between two of the trees and instant later heard the thud of the great beast plowing into the living wood behind her.

A dozen birds took the air as their comfortable roost shook beneath their feet and sent them scattering to the four winds. The bull was so close that when it snorted again she could hear it as clearly as if it sounded in her ear – and she jerked back and away as instinctively as a flinching dog. Her instincts urged her to run and put as much distance between her and it as possible, but – it was thirty feet or more to the fence and she was sure she couldn’t make it, completely sure.

The beast’s hooves tore the grass as it wheeled around and moved at a lumbering trot around the clump of trees towards her – and like a child playing hide-and-seek she ducked around to the far side, keeping them between her and it.

Jerky, panicked, she clutched onto the first thing that she could, and felt rough bark beneath her hands. She looked down and saw the low-hanging branch she clung so desperately to, sharp, strong, pointed.

Without thinking she scrambled onto it, all haste and no grace. Her left knee struck the branch hard as she hauled herself up, off the ground and into the tree. She didn’t feel any pain, only a singing sensation from bruised nerves and a spreading coldness that surged numbly along the bones of her shin and thigh as she seized gratefully onto the next branch and hoisted herself up, higher still, out of reach –

– And she remembered her mother standing below in the leaf-litter of the park almost twenty years ago, with the clarity of a reflection in a mirror. Remembered the mixture of fear and annoyance on her face as she looked up at Staci’s eight year old self, twenty feet above the earth surrounded by fresh-scented leaves and green acorns. “Get down from there! You’re not a little squirrel, you’ll fall!”

The bull’s back was so close that she could have reached down and brushed it with her fingertips as it wheeled and danced below in absolute rage, incensed at this thing that had invaded its territory and dared to dodge away instead of being trampled to bloody mush beneath its hooves.

“Please! Go away!” she cried out and wrapped her limbs tightly around the branch, clinging on to the one stable thing she had left. “I didn’t mean it!”

She felt creaking, cracking, shifting beneath her. Felt the branch shudder in the instant before it broke; felt her stomach plummet, heart and lungs clenching tight with the sudden drop of sheer terror in the moment that she fell, too. Mom had been right. Mom had been right.

The earth rushed up to meet her, soft, yielding with its coat of thick long grass and it didn’t hurt, even though she landed on her elbows and aching knee.

Reflexively she rolled to the side in an attempt to get away from the bull that jerked back, startled at the sudden appearance of the human almost directly under its feet.

Scrambling away in a tangle of flailing limbs, she saw it shake its head and point those wickedly-curved horns her way – and a naïve part of her thought she could scramble back and away fast enough to outpace it. A part of her really believed it, even as it bunched its shoulders and prepared to charge.

“Hai! HAI! Back, back boy!”

She heard Steve’s voice as if it were coming from a hundred, no, a thousand miles away, drowned beneath the panicked ringing in her ears; and she saw his shadow rise above her and pass over, stepping between her and the bull without fear or hesitation.

“Good boy! Back, now, back.” Steve’s hands were out as he approached the bull, his pace slow and steady and it snorted and took one step back, and Staci thought – was certain – that it was about to charge him, too.

But it didn’t.

If she hadn’t been so close to sobbing with pure relief and gratitude she’d never have believed her eyes, as Steve reached out and placed his hand on the bull’s neck; as it pushed its head up, butting gently against his palm like a pet dog as it stared up into his face. Docile. Calm. Like everything was just fine.

“Good boy. Good boy.” Steve murmured in a soothing tone. “Now, Staci. Stand up, nice and slow.” He kept his eyes on the bull, his voice never changing; as if he was were still talking to the animal. “Wander on back to the good side of the fence at a nice calm pace. I got this in hand. Don’t I, Thunderbutt?”

Thunder… Butt? Did he just call me – no, it’s the bull’s name. I was nearly killed by a thing named Thunderbutt. Oh. My. God.

Staci’s train of thought was near delirious with emotion and adrenaline as she followed his advice, slowly getting to her feet; her lungs burned as she struggled to prevent laughter – of all things, laughter – from welling up. It felt like she was going crazy. Maybe she was, but – it was okay. Because she wasn’t dead, and maybe she should have been.

Without saying a word she started to walk towards the fence, arms wrapped tight around her chest; on the first step, her knee nearly gave out and sent her face-first into the dirt again. Though she staggered, she stayed up; and step after step, the fence drew closer, Seth waiting behind. Finally it was near enough to put her hands on; and gasping with the effort she pulled herself up and over, sprawling in the grass on the far side on her back, staring up into an indigo sky untouched by clouds.

“Are you okay? Jesus fu*king Christ!” Seth’s face appeared in her field of view, wide-eyed, concerned; he looked as scared as she had been, a moment or two before. Well – almost, anyway. “The hell were you doing in there!”

“I saw a shiny thing.” Her voice sounded small and floaty, even to her: The words so ridiculous, but so true. Everything had a strange and lucid edge to it – seeming unreal, like the tail-end of a dream as the waking world began to push its way back into her consciousness. “I’m not a little squirrel.”