My hard work was paying off. Out of 245 horses, my big outlaw had laid down the fastest run of the day. He won the 1D among some fierce competition. We won some cash, and to my surprise, a shiny new belt buckle. It was all a blur...certain moments stood out more than others, but from the time that we pulled into the rodeo grounds to the moment I walked into the office to pick up the check and the buckle, it was all just like a movie stuck on fast forward. Colors, images, sounds--they all just spun through my mind.
The afternoon was hazy, humid even. Thick gray clouds skimmed across the sky as they threatened to pour down an onslaught of rain, but the wind kept them rolling and scuttling back on themselves. My horses were all resting under shade trees, the truck and trailer parked a stones throw from them. Hay nets and water buckets were full, they all stood with a hind foot cocked. Like the seasoned travelers they were, they knew to rest when the opportunity presented itself. My ratty lawn chair made a scraping protest as I drug it from the back of the pickup, as I tugged it free I managed to drag half of the contents of the pickup bed out at my feet. Ropes, snuff cans, water bottles, an extra flag or two- they all laid in an unceremonious heap on top of my toes. I sorted through it all, flung the garbage into an empty bucket and heaved the rest back where it came from. The bucket was emptied into a big orange dumpster, then rinsed out at they hydrant nearby. I could my hair creeping from the grip of the rubber band I'd tried to secure it in early in the day, the humidity brought out what little curl my hair possessed.
The trailer was thoroughly occupied, Dad had been asleep since shortly after he'd watched my run that morning. He'd been happy with how my horse had worked, and since he didn't have to work any performances until that evening, he'd gone and turned the AC all the way down and locked the door. I had a key in my pocket, I could get in if I wanted to but had no desire to sleep at the moment. My mind was a jumble of the past days events, like so many strands of silk thread twisted and knotted into place. I knew I needed some time to work it all out, and was intent to do so as I pulled my chair into the shade of the trees. The horses didn't seem to mind sharing. I used the trash bucket to prop my feet up on as I shaded my eyes with my arms. A breeze jostled the leaves over head, gently lifting manes and blowing tails sideways as it blew. It was like a whirlwind had finally decided to subside; the manic turning of the wheels of my mind started to slow as I exhaled.
It was sprinkling when I woke; the sun was still shining as brightly as before. The wind had picked up a little, the horses had turned themselves to it but were still as relaxed as before my nap. It had to be getting close to 3 or 4 o'clock by now, I was fuzzy from my nap. My back complained a little as I rose from my chair, reminding me that it probably wasn't the most orthopedic sound item for sleeping in.
My phone was blinking in the front seat of the truck, missed calls from mom. A smile found it's way to my face as I scrolled through the missed call list, she'd tried to catch me every hour for the last 3 hours. I knew my dads phone would show as many if not more calls than mine did. She was more forgiving of my missing her calls; she assumed I was being obnoxious and avoiding her. Part of the time she was right, the only reason she called was to be sure we were safe though. I tried not to worry her for no reason, so I dialed the number for her cell phone.
The phone buzzed in my hand as I heard her answer, someone had sent a text message just as my call to my mother connected. She launched into her usual spiel, "Where are you, how are you, is your Daddy OK, are you OK, when you coming home?" I answered each question in turn, smiling at the concern in her voice. She remembered the barrel race at the last moment, and cried when I told her how well it had gone.
Momma was my biggest critic, but she was my biggest fan, too. First to tear into me, she reserved the right to be that biggest critic, but heaven help anyone who tried to take her place. She had been to bat for me countless times since my brother died, mainly at school. I coped just fine in the everyday world, around adults that were mature for the most part. Being thrust into the high school scene just broke me to pieces; kids were just mean. Picking, poking, prodding....all to get a reaction, not caring how much devastation they caused to get said reaction. She had offered home schooling as a way out, but I had declined. If I couldn't handle a little more drama while I finished high school, I didn't see the point of attempting college. The same type of people would always be around, just like dirt on the ground. You could brush them off, but eventually they just end up right back where they were.
