By: Finch Benton
What caught Rand’s eye first was the black suit. The sun was bright that day, not a cloud in the sky, and that suit would be soaked through before the end of the round.
Rand watched the little man inch past the spectators to take an empty seat in the stands. His dark fedora and tie among all the cowboy hats and denim made him look like a crow among chickens. He sat real stiff, hands crossed in his lap. It was hard to tell because the brim of his hat shaded his eyes, but Rand was sure he was looking right at him.
But he couldn’t recognize him, could he? Not from up there, not with the white greasepaint and red nose; Rand had put it on extra thick. And he had a hat shading his eyes too, red straw with a turned-up brim.
“Up next, we have something a little different folks. A cowgirl. Ella Jackson from Fall City, Washington, thinks she can ride with the best of them, so we’re letting her try. She’ll be on the bull Black Gold.”
Rand took his eyes off the little man and turned to the chute as Ella lowered herself onto the bull. Lacko, the other clown, hovered nearby, waiting for it to open.
“You stay close to this one. We don’t want her getting hurt,” the stock contractor called to them from his perch atop the chute.
Rand could see her white hat nod just above the gate.
The bull burst out, a block of dark rippling muscle with Ella on its back, her free hand, covered with a pristine white glove, held high above the dust clouds.
But Rand focused on the bull’s head as it whipped back and forth, gouging the earth and air with its horns. He’d seen them tear a man apart. Sometimes, when he couldn’t sleep, when the night was thick and hot and he started to think too much, he’d wish they’d rip him apart. He’d wish he could stand there and let them. But when he was face to face with the beast, he was thankful for the fear that kept him moving.
The eight-second whistle sounded. Ella’s hand dropped to untie the other, but the animal twisted, and she was flung from its back. Rand moved in. He and Lacko circled the bull as it spun. Ella was hung up, her left hand still clamped against the bull’s back by the rope. Rand wanted to look at her, but he held his gaze on that left hand, the dirtied white glove flashing in and out of sight beyond the bull’s hips.
He remembered how the light glinted off the old man’s pistol and how quick he’d been then.
Rand shot his hand along the beast’s spine and grasped the tail of the rope. He pulled it loose and Ella’s body slid down the bull’s side. She landed on her knees in the dirt. Lacko drew the bull away.
Ella was already trying to get up. Rand took her arm and guided her to the fence. She didn’t look at him, he didn’t see her face, just her hair, as dark as the bull’s.
“Let’s have a big hand for our rodeo clowns. That’s Randall Carey there who just untied Miss Jackson from Black Gold. He’s fairly new to the rodeo but he’s taken to it like a natural.”
“Hey, did I do nothin’ here?” Lacko called to the announcer.
Again, the black suit caught Rand’s eye. The man was still there like he hadn’t moved a muscle.
“And that’s Lacko Lawrence, folks. Always the jokester.”
Rand came up behind Lacko and put a hand on his polka dot shoulder. “Hey pal, I gotta step out for a minute. How about I send in Jesse?”
“Jesse? He’s just here to watch.” Lacko glanced at the boy standing on the fence.
“Yeah, and practice, right?”
“With some of the smaller bulls.”
“He’s done that. Let him try it with the real thing? You know he’s ready.”
“No, I said he wasn’t. That’s why he’s not in here.”
“Well, I’ll send him in. He’s got you, hasn’t he?”
“Maybe if it was the two of us—”
“Hey Jesse!” Rand waved for the boy to come over. Jesse hopped the fence and jogged up to them. “Why don’t you take over for me with Lacko. I’ve gotta split.”
Jesse beamed beneath his painted smile.
“Rand, no. You can’t leave in the middle of the rodeo.”
Rand was backing toward the fence, his eyes not on Lacko but the man in the stands. “I’m sorry, pal, but I’ve gotta go. You two’ll do fine. You trained him yourself, didn’t you?”
Rand turned and climbed the fence out of the arena.
“And the next rider is Wes Merritt of Big Springs, Texas. That is if our clowns are ready for him . . .”
As he passed a group of cowboys on his way to his trailer, Rand noticed one peel off and follow him. It was Nelson, not someone he wanted to talk to. But not someone he wanted anyone else to talk to either, especially the little man in the suit.
“Where you off to?” Nelson drawled.
“Just back to the trailer.”
“Ain’t you in the middle of the go-round?”
“Jesse went in for me.”
“Thought Lacko didn’t want Jesse in with the big bulls.”
“Well, he’s in there now. Why don’t you go watch him.” Rand stepped up to the trailer. The door was slightly open. “You left it unlocked?” he asked Nelson.
“Must have. Maybe a breeze blew it open.”
“I doubt it.”
“You think they caught up to you?”
Rand went inside and began to throw his few belongings, mostly clothes, into a suitcase.
Nelson leaned against the doorway. “You don’t think you’re goin’ anywhere, do you? Bus won’t leave ’til the rodeo’s over. You got a few hours yet.”
Rand wasn’t going to wait for the bus. He figured he’d just start walking, try to hitch a ride. He wanted to be gone before the man in the suit came looking for him. But Nelson was blocking the way.
“Aren’t you ridin’ soon?” Rand asked.
“I can hear it when they call me.”
Rand waited for him to move but Nelson continued to talk. “I let you stay here, you know. I got you this job. You said you’d cut me in if I found you a place to hide out.”
“You think I really got big money stashed away somewhere?”
“You sure made it sound like you did.”
“Would I really take a job as a rodeo clown if I were a rich man? You think I’d be so eager to die if I had a lot of dough waiting for me somewhere?”
“Detective might be fooled. But I’m smarter. I figure you were in on that holdup in Denver a few months back. One where the guard was shot. You know those three guys oughtta have $25,000 a piece.”
“You can search me, Nelson. I don’t have anything.”
“Nelson Hilliard coming out of Chute 3 on the bull Kid Galahad.”
Nelson reluctantly swung out of the doorway. “Well, I am smart all right, and I’m not gonna give up good prize money for whatever blood money you might have somewhere. Especially, when they’re closing in on you.”
Nelson sauntered off. Rand glanced around for the man in the suit then snuck through the trailers to the management office. He slowed suddenly as the office door opened and the man in the suit stepped out.
There was no mistake now. The man was looking right at him. Rand could see his whole face, his lips, round, red, slightly creased like the skin of a tomato, his nose a little nub like on top of a baby bottle, and his eyes black as his suit except for a tiny glint from the sun.
It was too late for Rand to turn around. The man stood to the side as Rand passed but he didn’t speak a word. Rand entered the office and closed the door behind him. He went up to the man at the desk. “Hey Johnny, who was that little guy in the suit?”
“I don’t know. Just a spectator.”
“Did he ask about me?”
“No, nothing in particular.”
“Did he ask about the clowns?”
“No, not specifically. He was mainly interested in the bronc riding.”
“Did he tell you to keep quiet? Not tell anyone, not tell me, what he was doing here?”
“No, I said he was asking about the—”
“Look Johnny, I’m gonna need my pay early. And I understand if you don’t pay me for the whole day but I’ve gotta leave now and I need something.”
“I can’t pay you ’til the rodeo’s over, Rand. You know that.”
“I just need a little something. Enough for a ticket to somewhere. And maybe a meal.”
“I’m sorry, Rand. I can’t just give it to you. Why can’t you wait ’til the end of the day?”
Rand shook his head. “I gotta go now.” He cracked the door and scanned for the little man. He wasn’t there.
“Nelson Hilliard is ready for his reride. We’ll see if his new bull, Scene of the Crime, bucks any better.”
Rand trotted out, looking around the side of the office to be sure.
Then Ella was in front of him. She noticed the suitcase. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
“Well, actually I was.”
“In the middle of the rodeo? The short round’s about to start.”
“I know but somethin’s come up.”
There was a cry from the crowd in the stands. Rand hadn’t noticed but Ella listened for a moment. Then she looked at him close. He looked back nervously almost, afraid of getting lost in those aquamarine depths.
“You alright?” she asked.
Rand broke into a smile.
“You know it’s hard to tell under that makeup. I know you can’t always be smiling.”
“Yeah, I’m alright. I’ve just gotta be movin’ on.”
“Ella Jackson coming out of Chute 6 on the bull Hellzapoppin.”
“Bad draw. He’s real mean.”
“I think I can handle him,” she said. “I’ll have Lacko at least.”
“And Jesse too. He’s a good kid.”
Ella smiled then started for the chutes. Rand headed the other way.
“This is another of those all too frequent reminders of just how dangerous this sport is. These men, and women, risk their lives when they get up on these bulls.”
Lacko was coming from the arena with Jesse. The boy was trembling, his eyes were blank. Rand wished he could just walk past.
“Rand!” Lacko called.
“What happened?”
“The bull threw Nelson. Got ’im real bad.”
“He’s not dead?”
“He could be.” Lacko rubbed Jesse’s shoulders then sat him down. “You should’ve been in there. I told you Jess here wasn’t ready. Where d’you think you’re goin’ anyways?”
Rand watched through the fence as the crowd around Nelson parted for a stretcher.
“I’m sure we all wish Nelson Hilliard the best as he is carried from the arena.”
“I said where you goin’, Rand?”
“And now we prepare for the short round featuring the top 10 highest placing bull riders.”
Rand noticed the man in the suit, walking slowly towards him.
“I’m sure you’ll recognize this rider. Miss Ella Jackson provides a pretty contrast to the bulls she rides, this time she’s on Hellzapoppin. We’ll wait just a moment for the clowns. It’s nice and quiet without Lacko’s banter, isn’t it?”
“Rand. Jesse can’t do it.”
“I know.”
Rand put down his suitcase.
“We’re comin’, we’re comin’,” Lacko called.
Rand took his eyes off the little man and climbed over the fence.
Ella was lowering herself onto the bull. Rand wanted to see her eyes again, but she was wrapping the bull rope around her hand and didn’t look up.
The man didn’t take his place in the stands. He was at the fence. He was waiting for Rand to come out.
Ella nodded and the gateman released the bull.
He was real mean, like Rand had said, but Ella could handle him. Rand heard the whistle and rushed in. Ella rolled clear and ran for the fence. Rand tapped the bull on the head and jumped back. He called to it.
“Hey, hey. Come and get me, little man. Come see if you can get me.”
He waved his arms, flapping the red fringe on his sleeves. But he didn’t run.
Finch Benton is a recent graduate from Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond, Virginia with a major in Interdisciplinary Studies, combining coursework in film and creative writing.