Taken By The Bull

Then the gate was open and out lurched the pale, bucking form of the bull, and the rider dressed in black. Holding on with only one hand held tight to a rope wrapped around the beast’s body, the other hand held aloft as if to wave on the cheering crowd who rose to their feet as one. His fingers were forked in a peace-sign as the bull spun around and threw itself into the air, landing back on all four feet only to launch itself skyward yet again; heavy shoulders bunching and back arching as it kicked its feet and stamped.

The rider stayed on its back, swinging his weight easily to counter the frantic pace of the beast. The buzzer that signaled that the first eight seconds had passed sounded, and still, he stayed on.

And people do this for fun! Staci took a half-step away from the barrier as the beast drew closer, spinning with the force of a captured tornado. Her back collided with a stocky man who had both his arms thrown up into the air and just for an instant she was convinced that the bull was going to smash into that barrier, take it down, and crush her beneath it –

Then the rider slipped from its back and onto his feet, striding away from the thrashing beast as brightly-dressed rodeo clowns ran forward and caught the attention of the bull; suddenly calm, it lowered its head and snorted, forelegs spread apart.

Those railings are made to take a hit, she told herself as the fluttering of panic settled down again, settled down like a flock of butterflies coming to rest. But damn, that was something!

The crowd hollered and applauded, stamping its feet as the bull trotted away towards the exit chute. The rider they were all praising turned slowly around, grinning widely as he brought his own hands together as if he were, in turn, applauding the crowd.

He stood only ten feet from where Staci and Mikey had set up their camera, and as he completed his turn he was facing their way. His grin was all perfect teeth, tanned skin and five o’clock shadow on a handsome face shaded beneath his wide-brimmed old hat. In that Stetson, black shirt and waistcoat, he looked like something from another time and place. A hero from an old black-and-white Western.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught a blur of frantic movement and she turned her head, startled out of her reverie; and saw the camera turned her way, Mikey signaling wildly. Oh, damn! I clear forgot that I asked him to pan over – damn!

She snapped back into reality, a wide professional smile lighting up her face as she turned her whole body to face the camera. “And that was Steve Law! Born and raised right here in Biloxi, sending the crowd wild with one amazing ride!” It took a whole lungful of air to give her voice the power it needed to be heard above thousands of cheering people. Keep calm, look cool.

She tilted her head to one side, a strand of hair falling over one eye. Vaguely she was aware that she was gripping the microphone just a little too tightly. “A ten-second ride, lasting long past the buzzer! Like everyone says, he makes it all look so easy! Hopes are high that he’ll make a real mark at the PBR Championship Finals later this summer!” Did that sound like I know what the hell I’m talking about? Because, I really don’t! “This is Staci Wilder with JMN News, reporting from the Mississippi Coast Coliseum!”

It felt like her cheeks were about to split as she held that smile just long enough to be sure that Mikey had enough to edit with; then finally she relaxed with a deep sigh, wiping her hand across her forehead. “Wasn’t that something?”

“And you were telling me not to mess up the shot!” Mikey rolled his eyes as he flipped out the built-in screen to check the footage. “I got two clear seconds of nothing but you, giving him the googly-eyes!”

“I did not have googly-eyes!”

“Whaaaaaatever,” the camera operator drawled, stepping to one side to let a slab-shouldered old cowboy past. “So what now, boss?”

I like it when he calls me ‘boss’. “We gotta get an interview with the guy, of course! So let’s go!”

“Googly-eyes, I tell ya.” His voice was just loud enough for her to catch as she slipped by him, heading towards the backstage area. “I know that look.”

*****

They weren’t the only ones with a mind to get a few minutes with the man of the moment, it seemed. Other news crews had already set up shop, and the press had to compete against the average well-wisher. At least it wasn’t quite as blazingly hot in the shaded area around the back of the arena.

“I’m staying put, for as long as it takes.” More than anything Staci wanted to lean back against the wall, and let the cool sheet steel take a little of the warmth off her back – but she knew that if she moved away to the side they could kiss good-bye to any chance of being front-and-center when Steve Law finally showed his face. “Though I swear, I’m getting a blister the size of the State fair.”

“That’s what you get, for wearing heels.” Mikey rubbed at the back of his neck, tired from hauling around their equipment all night. “You know, the camera can’t see your feet, right?”

“I need those extra inches. The Good Lord didn’t exactly bless me in the vertical department, you know.” She could feel the back of her silk shirt clinging to her skin. I gotta remember not to turn my back to the camera. When changing into her outfit earlier, all she’d cared about was how the white fabric made a pleasing contrast with her darker skin; but now she was feeling conspicuously overdressed among the cowboy boots and plaid shirts. “The smell of those hot-dogs is just about driving me crazy.”

“Ol’ Steve isn’t worth the wait, ma’am.” She turned her head to see a man in his mid-twenties leaning against the wall like an outlaw, arms crossed over his red shirt, hat pulled down over his eyes. “On the other hand, those D. Walker hot-dogs are damn fine specimens of their kind, so I hear.”

I know him. Staci’s eyes narrowed, even as a slow smile started to stretch her lips. I’m sure of it. “I don’t believe we’ve met, Mr…?”

“I’m Seth.” He tipped his hat, and extended his hand in her direction. “Not Mr Seth, just Seth. And who might you be?”

“Staci Wilder, JMN News.” As she took his hand and shook it, her eyes never left his. The square jaw, the dark eyes and straight eyebrows – the resemblance was striking. “Seth Law, right? Steve’s brother? I was hoping to get a spot with you, as it happens!”

“Were you now?” He shot her a knowing smile. “I’m pretty sure, it’s my rising-star big brother that you’re really wanting to talk to.”

“Not at all!” The response was quick, automatic, as practiced lies often are. The moment it passed her lips it left a nasty taste in her mouth, and her own smile faltered. “Well, that’s not entirely true. My boss wants us to have a few words with Steve, but really, I don’t know anything about bull-riding. I didn’t have a clue who any of you were before this morning, so I haven’t exactly got stars in my eyes.”