Cowboy Nathaniel of Black Gold Valley

Nathaniel

AN ANCESTOR CAME to visit me today.

That wasn’t unusual.

If you listened hard enough they’re always speaking to us.

Even my brother, tight-laced as he is, used to have an imaginary friend.

He told me about his friend one day. I found it funny that we had the same imaginary friend when he confessed to me.

He didn’t want to say anything to anyone because he didn’t want them to look at him funny.

They already did because he was so serious and different from other boys his age.

He was older than me and even at sixteen he still didn’t treat me like a little kid.

I let him get out his feelings because who was I to judge?

But now, as an adult, I knew better. The person coming to him, talking to both of us, was an ancestor.

They never gave their name. I could barely give a description.

But we knew they meant us well. They were almost like a warm hug of familiarity.

Same skin tone, same funny hair so many people called the mass that hung down our backs but everything else was obscured.

Well, my back and Sampson’s ears since he wanted to be a dumbass.

But today’s visit was different. For the first time in my life, they arrived with a warning.

One that felt far heavier than the gentle guiding or the lighthearted entertaining they’d done for years.

And I didn’t heed it.

The warning was subtle. An old way of letting you know an enemy was coming: A soft drumming.

I was confused at first since they came with the same golden warmth that enveloped me.

It made me wonder if the warning was for me or my big brother.

So I did what I always do. What we’d always been taught to do as children and looked out for him.

Because surely this warning had to be about Sampson.

He was the one moving forward with a new phase of his life.

Had finally made a move on Yzzy and things were falling into place.

I’d kept my eye on them as I got to the arena refusing to let my brother lose out on his girl.

Tracked any problems and redirected them before they could get to him.

But this time I should’ve been focusing more on myself.

I’d gone through my normal checks before I got ready to perform. All of my family were here from multiple branches of the Reeces and the Chisholm-Loves. But despite the calm their presence normally brought me, the tension mounted. By the time I got on the bull, the drums grew louder.

I went through the regular motions that I did before every ride.

Touched the cowrie shell at my neck, ensured my fit was good and made eye contact with my mama in the stands.

Her smile was tighter than normal as though she too felt something was off.

I tried to block it out and put my focus on the animal that was pissed I was on his back.

I went to tighten my grip but it wasn’t as tight as it should’ve been.

The drums were the loudest then and I couldn’t get anyone’s attention because the shoot flew open.

I didn’t have any options left but to make this work.

Eight seconds.

That’s all I had. Normally, all I needed. Eight seconds to survive whatever was going on. I’d been trained to handle every scenario, even equipment failures. But this bull was different. An angry son of a bitch everyone wanted to see me ride and I had no issue giving people what they wanted.

One.

Two.

Three.

And so on it went until eight Mississippis or eight Louisianas or eight whatever you used to count time passing had gone by.

But then there was a problem. The rope that was supposed to tether me to this beast snapped.

My body flew. My brain wondered. The warning now louder, almost too loud blocking out the sounds of everything else.

As I flipped I saw my brother and his girl on their feet.

My brain knew better than to look at my mama because I was sure her face was one of horror.

I’d never been thrown this hard off a bull, not even in practice.

I did my best to control the rotation of my body so that I didn’t fall and land on my neck or my back.

The drums were silent. Like they were offended that I hadn’t listened to their warning and now served no purpose.

I should’ve listened harder. But there was nothing I could do about it now.

The ground was coming in faster than it ever had before.

This wasn’t my first fall off a bull and it wouldn’t be my last. But knowing that it wasn’t my lack of talent or the extreme prowess of this bull that forced me off made me eager to figure out what in the hell was going on.

And who had lost their rabid ass mind by tampering with this rope and attempted to end my life.

Because I felt the moment that it fully frayed and wondered how I’d missed it during my equipment check.

Whoever they were God help them whenever I figured out their name.

My body hit the packed earth, and the pain that shot through my system made everything fade to black.