The Devil's in the Details

           Muscles tensed under thick, brindle hide. The 1,800-pound beast shifted and snorted under him, but Bill Jones was ready. He’d done his research like he had for every bull he’d ever ridden, and the national semi-finals were no different. A five-year-old bull, The Devil’s in the Details, tended to spin left and swung on the downs. In the past eighteen attempts to ride The Devil, only three successfully made it to the full eight seconds, and Bill had studied every attempt he could. With preparation and experience on his side, Bill was ready. The roar of the crowd. The lights. The music. The announcer’s voice booming over the PA system. Bill only noticed the beating in his chest, and the breathing of the bull.

           Every piece and player was ready. The Devil’s in the Details shifted into position. Bill got his legs down, his spurs anchored, shifted forward, and gave the nod to the gateman.

           And the pair took off. A spin left. A dive. In the arena, Bill felt more powerful than at any other moment in his life. A spin left. Bill pulled his riding arm up with the bull. Another left. All his training and mental preparation led up to the thrill of moments like this.

           A feint to the left and into a right spin. Bill overcompensated, preparing for another left spin, and felt his balance pulled off. He tried to correct, but an extra twist kick from the hind end unseated him, propelling his upper body forward. Another up thrust and twist, and Bill didn’t remember what happened next.

           The Devil’s in the Details swung up, knocking Bill out with his only horn. Bill’s unconscious, tall lanky body swung from the bucking bull, hung up in the bull rope. The bull fighters were able to grab the tail and release Bill, but not before The Devil’s in the Details had stomped him into the ground. Once Bill’s body was on the ground, The Devil ran him over in a bolt for the out gate.

           Bill woke up a day later in the hospital with a concussion, a broken hand, four broken ribs, a punctured lung, a dislocated shoulder, a fractured zygomatic, his jaw wired shut, and an angry wife. He stayed in the hospital until the chest tube came out, and dreaded the day he would be discharged.

           “Ready to go?” Kathy Jones asked her husband. Her voice sprinkled with morning sunshine and candied arsenic.

           “Mmhm.” Bill grunted from his perch on the edge of the hospital bed. During his hospital stay, Kathy had been overly nice and sweet, and her behavior put Bill on edge. Bill loved his wife, but knew better than to trust the bouncing golden ringlets and bubbly attitude.

           A nurse helped Bill out to their car, and the couple headed home.

           “Well Bill, did you learn anything this time around?” Kathy spent the first several days after the rodeo lecturing Bill while he laid in his hospital bed.

           Bill grunted. His wired jaw and swollen face kept him from responding to much of anything.

           “It’ll be good having you around the house a little while. Ya know, I was thinking we should go visit Sean and Carol. We haven’t seen them in a while.” Bill looked out the window and rolled his eyes.

           “I just can’t believe Carol had another baby. What do you think that is going to do to her figure? Could you imagine having three kids under the age of three running around the house? Your mother would just adore that.” Bill looked at the radio clock. Still had thirty minutes left on the drive, and he was in so much pain that the morphine wasn’t knocking him out like he had hoped.

           “Oh, and did you hear that Martha’s got herself a new man? Ya know, Martha, my hairdresser. Anyways she’s dating one of those Billings boys that work at the lumber mill.

           If I could undo the seatbelt and open the car door, I might be able to throw myself onto the road. If I’m really lucky, a truck would run over me. Bill thought.

           “I’m sure you won’t want to go anywhere right away, given how beat up you are right now,”

           Thank you, Lord, she said something that made sense.

           “But this will be a good chance for us to spend so time together since you’re on the road so much.”

           Bill’s soul groaned.

           “I also get to try out some new recipes since you’ll be on a liquid only diet until your jaw is healed. Perfect time for you to get on a healthier diet. I’m thinking lots of those vegetable smoothies, or maybe I’ll start using that juicer my sister got me for Christmas.

           Well damn. Lord, if you find it in your merciful heart to strike me down now before I make it home, I would be forever grateful.

           “Oooh we’ve got a bunch of cucumbers and peppers in the garden. I bet those with some carrots would make a good vegetable juice. We’ve really got to start packing your vitamins in since you can’t eat anything, and your doctor will be so happy about your cholesterol since you won’t be able to eat any meat for quite a while. I had some nice steaks ready for you to grill when we got home, but maybe I’ll give them to Sean and Carol.”

           Bill growled and looked at his wife.

           “Oh Honey, are your pain meds not working?” Kathy reached over and patted the injured shoulder, still healing from surgery, sending an electric shock of pain up Bill’s spine to his head. He squealed through his teeth.

           “Oh no, I’m so sorry Bill. I forgot. I promise I won’t touch your shoulder again.” Bill remembered a rope he had in the garage, and wondered how hard it would be to string himself up with a bad shoulder on one side and a broken hand on the other.

           “When we get home, I promise I’ll let you sleep. My sister and aunt are coming over to help with the housework and keep me company. We may even get a game of bridge in.”

           If his face didn’t hurt so bad, Bill would have started bawling.

           Digger, the cattle dog, lay on the front porch of the ranch house and ran down to the car as soon as he saw Bill. Bill tried to make it up the stairs and into the house on his own, but Kathy caught up with him and insisted on helping. After the first time she stepped on his foot, he wished she would drop him so he could fall down the stairs. He’d break his neck if he was lucky.

           Kathy helped her husband get dressed and into bed, and even tucked him in.

           Bill laid in bed feeling like a bruised, soggy burrito. Their tabby cat sat on the dresser sizing up his sorry state. He hoped whatever ‘help’ Kathy had planned next wouldn’t be subject to the Geneva Convention.

           Stupid. Idiot. Why did I think I could predict where the bull was going to be? I know better. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Bill watched Digger laying at the foot of the bed and wished he could get that comfortable.

           Couldn’t she have at least turned on the TV or radio or something? Bill listened to Kathy rummaging around in the kitchen. All he wanted to do was sleep, but he hurt too bad. He couldn’t talk. He couldn’t write. His back wasn’t broken, but his spine was bruised. Walking took a lot of effort. He felt more powerless than he had ever felt in his entire life.

           Then he heard the juicer roar to life.

           “I hope you don’t mind, but all I’ve got for your dinner is beets, carrots, and kale.” She yelled.

           Bill looked up and the ceiling and prayed. A single tear rolled down his cheek. He couldn’t wait to get back to riding bulls again.