Fighters

There's cheering and clapping as the announcer's voice booms the next rider's name. The tension, the excitement has everyone on the edge of their seats. The smell of upturned dirt in the thick air is detectable even in the nose-bleed seats clear up top. I stood in my usual spot along the fence, hands clenching the railing in white knuckles. I tried to calm my breathing.

My eyes aren't focused on the boy sitting atop one of the deadliest herbivores that ever walked the earth. A ton of muscle and rage stands inside the chute, nostrils streaming snot and steam as it snorts and throws its head. The boy atop that beast isn't the challenge; only a flea to be flung in the air. The true challenge was the knights standing outside his cave, awaiting the great creature that saw only red.

My eyes were locked on one of those courageous—and stupid—knights. Decked out in his own armor of baggy shorts, braces and bandages, Wyoming Cowboys jersey, and cowboy hat. War paint was streaked across his face in two black crosses under each eye. His eyes, shadowed by the brim of his cowboy hat spark with excitement, though the rest of his face remains impassive. His body is relaxed, yet ready.

The gate to the chute sprang open with a crash, the bull within leaping out. Its two thousand pound body spun and spun, kicked and ducked. The two knights zigged and zagged ready to be upon the beast if the flea were to be in the danger of being squashed. The crowds cheering sickened me. The rider was flung to the ground and the monstrosity turned on him in an instant.

However, the knight of Wyoming Cowboys jumped in between boy and bull. A scream left my lips as the monster's massive head slammed hard into the knight's chest. The warrior fell, crushed between the ground and the beast's skull of iron.

But the beast was no dragon or mythical creature. The knights were no men with armored plates and swords to keep them safe; their hands and quick feet were all they had. The flea was nothing, but a stupid kid wanting to play cowboy.

I watched, eyes wide and terrified as the other bull fighter fought to free his companion from the bull's ravaging of his body. He fought to free my husband from something he'd done his entire life.

Saving others at the expense of himself.