Page 176 of Sigils & Spells

Iwasthe next show, and I realized that I was afraid. I didn’t know if it was really me, or the horse-ness of me, but fear jolted through me as I pictured those bucking chute.

I couldn’t help it. I yanked on the bridle again, every instinct in my body telling me to get away. I whinnied and stomped at the ground, but the stable-hand was undeterred. This must be what all the horses did, and so nothing new to him.

He stopped after a few feet and turned to me. “Calm down, there, Boy, you ain’t gonna get hurt. You’re perfectly safe.”

My human brain knew he was right. They took good care of the horses and the horses and riders had to go through training to keep both parties safe. But my horse brain slammed against the walls of my skull, terrified.

The rodeo announcer’s voice blasted through the stereo overhead and I could hear him even over the crowd and through the garble and static of speakers that were turned up too loud. He was introducing the next show. Introducing Minho.

“Ladies and Gentleman!” He began, his voice a familiar boom. “What a show that was! Give a round of applause to Derek as he makes his way round back for a drink. You’ve earned it, Derek!”

The announcer paused to let the crowd cheer before continuing. “Now! Let's get ready for our next man out! I'm talking about our very own local, a new-comer and budding crowd favorite, Mmmminho Song!!!”

The crowd roared, and suddenly there were more hands on me, on my reins turning me and urging me into the bucking chute. It was designed to be so small I could barely move. It was like a wooden gated box, enclosing me on all sides. Men’s hands grabbed me from the platform above forcing me to be still.

A Bronc ride is a rodeo event where a rider tries to stay mounted on a bucking horse for 8 seconds. The rider uses his legs, spurs, and body positioning to stay balanced on the horse, while also gripping the rope tightly with one hand and waving his free hand in the air for balance, normally holding a cowboy hat for the sake of drama. Only 8 seconds, but the horses bucked hard. I’d watched plenty of shows, and the men always looked like they should come out the other side of it with scrambled eggs instead of brains.

But I knew as soon as they closed that gate that I wasn’t going to be able to go easy on Minho. Every fiber of my being wanted out. I yanked and jerked, but the hands and the chute kept me still. My nostrils flared.

Suddenly, I felt a solid weight on my back, and a familiar voice said something I didn't quite understand to one of the men. Minho. Minho was on my back

I felt Minho grip the thick braided rope that is wrapped around my girth, I felt him readjust, keeping both feet above my shoulders. He'd have to stay like that until my feet hit the ground after the first buck. One hand was going to keep him on my back until he could get his legs around me, and then he just had to not fall off.

“Alright! Looks like our rider’s ‘bout ready, Folks!” The announcer bellowed. “Let him head you!”

The crowd deafened me, and then, all at once the gate opened. I couldn’t help it, I burst out of the chute with a ferocity I didn’t think was possible. Bucking and twisting, I couldn’t think about anything but getting him off of me. I felt his legs press into my sides, holding him on me, so I bucked harder, rearing and running. Adrenaline turned my veins to gasoline. I’d never been so fast. Never felt so strong.

The weight of the saddle, the pressure of the flank strap, and the jarring impact of my hooves hitting the ground. It was overwhelming.

"Get off, get off, get off!" I kicked out with my hind legs and twisted my body in every direction.

And then, just as quickly as it had started, it was over. I found myself calming just a bit and my bucking just turned into a run, around the big ring and over the dirt that I hadn’t even had time to look at. the pick up men, two other cowboys rode up on either side of me, one grabbing my reins, the other pulling Minho off my back. With the weight removed, the need to buck and kick calmed. I slowed to a trot alongside the other horse. I wondered briefly if I could talk to horses while I was a horse, but I was too tired to try to say “hey,” even if I could speak horse.

My heart felt like it was going to explode in my chest. There was so much to see and hear and feel. I closed my eyes and let the man guide me out of the stadium.

* * *

Back in the stable,I couldn’t help but keep pulling on at the bridle where the pickup men held me in place. I had more control now, but again it felt like this horse instinct inside me wanted to get away again. I took a deep breath that came out as a snort.

“Good boy”, the first man said, handing off his own horse to the second man, and patting my side with one leather gloved hand.

“Hey, Jimmy!” a voice I recognized drew our attention, and I whipped my head and turned.

A sweaty Minho jogged through the door. He exchanged brief congratulations with the other two men and did brief bro hugs before Minho motioned at me. “What’s his name? I don’t recognize him.”

The pickup man glanced at me and shrugged. “Not sure. Never seen him before, must be new.”

“Alright. My roommate was supposed to pick out my horse for me and meet me by the pen, but he never showed up. I was wondering if you’d seen him. You remember Julian Sanchez? Tall and gangly, with curly hair.”

The pickup men shook their heads. “Sorry, Minho.”

“Hey, man,” one of the men said, “We need to get set up for the next show, can you stow him? The stable-hand can take care of him if you can get him to the stables.

Minho agreed, and my reins were handed off. The men left and we were alone. If I could have talked it would have been a great time to say something. I wanted to do something to communicate that it was me!

I huffed at him, and nudged his shoulder with my huge snout. Minho turned and grinned.

“Hey boy.” He patted my neck like I was a large dog.

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