Little Bill’s Last Run

(Average reading level: grade 8.7)

The old warrior was impatient. He quivered and shifted nervously. Suddenly, he blew hard, an exhalation of nervous energy. The gelding was a long time veteran of these rodeos. He knew well his task, his explosive mission. And he sensed that the time was now here.

Sally had ridden him hundreds of times in dozens of arenas here in South Georgia and north Florida. At 37, she was considering calling it quits after this fall’s circuit of rodeos was done. Her rock solid, faithful steed was at the end of his barrel racing time and she couldn’t bear the thought of starting again with a fresh mount. Tonight would be the last go round for them in this little arena. Her nervousness suddenly grew and her eyes watered slightly, a tear escaped and ran down her cheek as she guided Little Bill out into the night preparing to make the turn and the long run towards the starting line.

The announcer’s call was booming around the small arena, kids were cheering and a few of the faithful who actually knew her and Little Bill rose in their seats. The old warrior’s sense of timing didn’t fail him. Almost instantaneously, as her right knee pressed in, he wheeled around as if he had sensed danger and was about to run away from it! Before she could even bring her heels down to his sides to urge him forward, the old warrior exploded into a dead out all for nothing run! The explosiveness of his start caught Sally by surprise and suddenly she sensed that he knew! He was flying!

The crowd roared as the little gelding exploded down the runway and into the brightly lit arena. Almost as soon as his racing, pounding feet hit the sawdust of the arena floor his gaze shifted to the right, spotting the enemy immediately. As his ancestors had done as they raced into battle on the American plains so long ago, his head stretched forward as his body seemed to level into a flying lance with his piercing black eyes gauging the enemy he bore down on. Now Sally was holding on for dear life! Her hands gripped the pommel with white knuckles, as she realized that tonight Little Bill had dug deep and found an old strength of an earlier age.

With his warrior’s heart pounding within him, Little Bill closed the distance in record time. The crowd, now all on their feet, roared as if everyone could sense that tonight a true champion was giving  it one last all out effort! Little Bill’s pivot around the hated enemy was a thing of unusual grace and excellent timing. The shower of sawdust and dirt flew out into the nearby stands as the bottom rows of cheering fans roared even louder at such a show of skill and heart! As if his rider had buried a lance into the hated enemy to finish him, Little Bill’s gaze shifted across the arena to the second challenge.

The little warrior exploded across the ground covering the distance in lightening speed. As the roar from the arena rose to an even higher volume, the mechanics at the local filling station across the highway stopped as one and turned to face the distant roar. “Maybe someone started a fight in the stands,” muttered Wilson, as he turned back to the job at hand. 

Nearing the second barrel, Little Bill snorted deeply clearing the sawdust from his nostrils. With a tight turn, the little warrior angrily launched himself at the remaining distant barrel. Sally, her hair flying, hat now gone, held on tightly.  She rode now leaning forward and low as if her very action would help her old friend in his mighty battle. The crowd roared louder, the bull riders now up on the rails slapping their hats and cheering like they were young children once more. The crowd, the riders, the clowns, all were now a part of the battle! And Little Bill bore down on one last enemy.

Making the turn tightly with sawdust and dirt flying, the little warrior’s eyes seemed like shiny black marbles in a patch of bright white. The saliva flew from his gasping mouth. Suddenly from far across the arena came the sound of a high piercing cry! An old Indian cowboy stood on the top rails of the arena and, caught up in the moment, voiced an ancestral war cry which seemed to reach to the heavens!  Momentarily stunned, the crowd hushed as if a switch had been flipped! Then came the answering whinnying cry of the little warrior and the crowd’s roar returned at full volume. With hats flying high many of the crowd now rushed the arena’s bars, trying to get closer, as if to help the little warrior win his final battle!    Sally gripped hard and now she whispered with tears falling, “You can do it, little man!”

Little Bill exploded forward racing down the straightaway! The time keeper stared at the electronic clock with disbelief. No horse had ever run such a time! The crowd roared with such enthusiasm, that the announcer had to send a runner to call Sally and Little Bill back to the arena. Gracefully, the little warrior trotted back through the wide runway opening into the arena as the crowd stood applauding and cheering. Sally rode Little Bill in a small circle and then with tears and smiles and many a thank you, the little champion and his best friend trotted back into the darkness of the warm Georgia night.  And an old Indian cowboy, his cheeks wet from his tears, looked to the night sky and was thankful. He slowly walked away toward an old worn pickup truck, with a smile on his face.

Clint Bowman

August 2015