Another Place, Another Time

More time passes by, and this time its real. Its been almost a year since my accident and about eight months Miranda and I have been together. I've recovered fully, been doing gymnastics and yoga with Miranda. She said its supposed to help me with my balance and flexibility, which seems to be working. I spent last week riding practice bulls. It went well. Tomorrow is the big day. I'm jumping into the big leagues again. Charlie and the others say I'm ready. I feel ready. I need the adrenaline rush, and the satisfaction of not giving up when others probably would have. I'm always being told to face my fears, and tomorrows the day to do it. I'm not scared of getting bucked off, I'm scared of waking up. I don't want this to be a dream. I'm convinced more than ever its reality.

"Hey babe, I brought us some nachos! Its time we start that tradition that you had in your dream."

"But we always had nachos after the ride though?"

"Yes, but we don't want everything to be the same as the dream. Gotta spice it us, speaking of which, I'm pretty sure they buried a pepper or sixty of them in the cheese." We eat our nachos, flicking the peppers at each other when they show up on our chips. We talk about tomorrow and different tactics for different bulls. She tells me that the grounds we'll be at tomorrow has a set of train tracks that people can ride on with the old man powered carts. When we finish eating, we head back to the hotel.

"Hey, do you have your alarms set for the morning? You have the rider's meeting at eight in the morning and if we catch breakfast on the way there, we got to leave at least two hours early."

"Yup, they are set, starting at five and going off every fifteen minutes after that, with nine minute snoozes." She laughs and we head to bed.
I wake up and roll over to see the alarm reading 06:03. I jump out of bed and get changed. Lucky for me my clothes are already lined up. After throwing my pajamas in the suitcase, I realize that the room smells delicious. I head over to the kitchen and Miranda's setting the table.

"Well good morning good lookin', what you got cookin'?"

"Well good morning sleepy head. I woke up at the first alarm and you looked so peaceful, so I let you sleep and started cooking. I've got eggs, bacon and pancakes wrapped over sausage all cooked up."

"I've died an gone to heaven." She laughs and we sit down to eat."Never mind, I don't think they'd have this good of food. Oh, I got dibs on cooking tomorrow s breakfast." We eat in happy silence and head out. We get to the grounds and head out different ways.

After the meeting I head over to the concession wagon and grab some food, I meet up with her over by the announcer's stand.

"Luck was with me today. I drew Wreck's Big Break. He's a newer Shorthorn bull, but a decent ride. They say he's big into the spinning."

"Good deal, I've got a good feeling about this." We talk about plans for after the rodeo. After we get done eating we walk over to the truck. She sits on the tack box, sorting pictures on her camera while I grab my leather strap and gear. I walk away and turn around because I forgot my hat that she stole and decided to wear. She waves in my direction, and I turn around. Dierk and Alex are headed over on the railroad tracks on a little cart-thing. There's two other people on the cart with them. They look annoyed at the detour that Dierk took, but after realizing that with Dierk working the mechanics of the cart, they wouldn't have to.

"Hey man, I heard you got WBB. Good pick for your return. Do you know what bulls they gave us? We missed the meeting 'cause my truck got a flat on the way here." Dierk Johns, he too is a comeback like me. But he's more seasoned, and out of breath.

"Ahh, I'm not a hundo percent sure, but I'd check with the check-in clerk, she might know."

"Thanks man." With that they head over to the announcers stand.

"Do you think they'd know? I thought if you missed the meeting you were s. o. l."

"Yeah sort of, but if there's an answer, he'd find it there."

"Ohh, whatever works. I'll see you in the ring, I think I heard them starting roll call already." She tosses my hat at me as she walks past. I get my gear on and head over to the bull pens. I walk in for roll call and then the other cowboys wish me happy birthday, because apparently, like elephants, a cowboy never forgets. They also wish me luck and are back in routines of their own. I finish mine and head over to the gates. I watch a few rides before getting informed there's three rides before me. I'm getting a bit more nervous now, but I just do some of the things I learned in yoga and my nerves are gone.

My name is called to be on deck. I walk over and look in my bull in the eyes. This time I see my reflection and nothing else. I climb on the platform. I see the mounts chasing the previous bull into the retaining pen, my cue to get going. The hands help me onto WBB. I wrap the leather strap around my left hand and raise my right.

"Let 'er rip!" The gate flies open and my bull shoots out. He spins, like I figured. Everything slows down and I can feel each foot make contact with the ground and leave again as he spins around and around, and around some more. The eight second buzzer sounds before I expected it. I release the tension from my left hand and fly effortlessly from the bull, to the safety of the ground. The ground is harder than I thought and I bounce a bit more than I expected. I get up and look back just to see the bull put his head down and charge me. I don't run, I have no chance of running. I set my feet. The bull charges and so do I. As he goes to side swipe me, I jump over him, and continue running to the fence. The matadors get him to the retaining pen.

"That's Lane Vanders, the ballerina with a score of eighty-seven. You don't see moves like that every day folks."

That was the beginning of the rest of my life. I didn't make it to Nationals, or get my chance to rid Black Stone, but I did marry the cowgirl of my dreams.