$500 on Bruiser

A group of teenagers waits nervously next to the entrance to the local corn maze. The season has closed and the owner, Jack, will cut the remaining stalks down within a few days. While he is aware the teenagers are out in his corn maze tonight, he is unaware of one particular addition to their group; Bruiser, the meanest bull in 300 miles. Every bit 1,000 pounds, he shakes and rattles his trailer in agitation, stamping and snorting vehemently.

Rumor has it Jack’s ranch hands treat the bull cruelly and as the lookout, Roger, looks between the trailer slats, he would attest them to be true. The bull’s white hide is covered in scars and burns from mistreatments. The burns in particular seem to be from cigarettes being put out on him. Though he is sympathetic to the animal, Roger dares not lay a hand on him to comfort the beast. He prefers his bones uncrushed.

Many of the gathered teenagers are there for the show. Five of them, Tess, Becky, Tyrone, Andrew, and Jim, have each pooled $100 on this little wager; first one through the maze with Bruiser loose wins the $500.

Roger keeps an eye on the old traffic light they’ve salvaged as he climbs up to sit atop Bruiser’s trailer to safely pull the door pin holding the restless creature at bay. The red glare entrances him for a moment before Bruiser shakes the trailer forcefully.

‘Are we really going through with this?’ he wonders, ‘This is more dangerous than when we were just talking about it.’

His thoughts are mirrored on the faces of the five runners; second thoughts are sinking in. Jim has been nervous all day, and Roger has witnessed him drink no less than half a jar of moonshine that he stole from his uncle’s stash. The younger boy can hardly stand straight, and concerns over his ability to safely outrun or outsmart the bull surface in the growing crowd. Tess and Andrew have also been drinking, but nothing as strong as Jim’s drink. Becky is shaking a little, but focused on the light. Tyrone is perhaps the least nervous, and he is eagerly taking advantage of his time before the signal changes to peek around and decide where he will run.

Roger grabs the bullhorn once he’s seated, hands unable to find a comfortable grip. Once the light turns green, he must pull the pin for the gate and blare the horn. The audience begins to fall quiet as the anticipation builds; it is nearly time.

One of the older teens, David, hands each of the competitors a flashlight and a bright vest with a bullseye painted on the back. Jim, understandably, has a difficult time pulling his vest on. Within a few minutes, the runners are set. David hops up next to Roger, grinning ear to ear. He is the one manning the light signal. However, his grin is so wolfish, Roger becomes suspicious.

“What did you do?” he asks. David leans over to tell him.

“Nothin’ much. Just put some cow pheromones on the targets.”

“You what?!” Roger exclaims, just as Roger flips the switch, turning the light green. When Roger continues staring at him, mouth agape, David pulls the bullhorn away and blares it. Startled by the suddenness of it all, Roger reflexively pulls back - ripping the pin from the doors.

Bruiser bursts out with a vengeance, showing the audience his sharp horns, and after one quick circle within the makeshift barrier of trucks and trailers, he sniffs the air and charges into the maze after the frantic competitors. Before long, someone screams out in panic. Roger is fairly certain it’s Jim. Both he and David jump down from their spots on the trailer and begin circling around the outer walls of the maze to the finish. The pair hear various shouts and screams throughout, as well as the angry bellows of the bull.

As they near the halfway point, they are startled to hear a loud, nearby holler. Their surprise doubles when hoofbeats approach and Andrew suddenly vaults over the maze wall, one pant leg torn to the knee. He looks around frantically when he lands, expecting Bruiser to come charging through after him. The three boys hear the bull snort before moving off elsewhere.

“Damn it!” curses Andrew, bitterly shaking off dust and heading towards the crowd waiting for the winner.

“Hey, any sign of Jim?” Roger calls after him. Andrew points towards the early part of the maze.

“Passed out. Bruiser left him alone to chase Becky.”

Roger sighs.

“I’ll go get him,” David offers, wheeling around to jog towards their fallen peer before Roger can object. He watches the older teenager until he disappears into the growing darkness.

Tess and Becky are equally disqualified when they too exit the maze walls, both uninjured and giggling with adrenaline. With Andrew out and Jim passed out, Tyrone is the only one racing Bruiser through now. The crowd listens, each expecting the worst to happen.

Two hours after the start of the run, and well into the dark, Tyrone finally emerges from the maze. He is uninjured, though he is covered in straw and dried Marigolds used for decor. He pants, unsettled.

“Winner; Tyrone!” Roger hears David shout through the megaphone. Cheers erupt from the crowd and Andrew rushes to the winner to hand him a well-deserved beer. Tyrone walks away with the $500 before Roger realizes there is still a problem; Bruiser is still somewhere in the maze. He finds David and shares this concern.

“Don’t worry about it. I got it covered,” the older boy says. Roger frowns.

“What else did you do? And where is Jim, anyway?” David grins another wide, wolfish grin and Roger repeats, “What did you do now?”

David leads Roger back around the maze to the trailer; Jim lays passed out halfway in it. Roger begins to hurry over to pull him out, but midway he finds himself running from the returning bull. Bruiser halts the chase when Roger jumps into the bed of a nearby truck, then turns and approaches the unconscious JIm. Smelling the pheromones, Bruiser sniffs the comatose teen before licking his face. After just a few licks, however, Jim awakens to see him looming over him. Fearful of the animal, he begins scrambling backwards, deeper into the trailer, before realizing his mistake. As the bull follows him deeper inside, he finds a small space to squeeze by and exit the container before the bull can turn around. David promptly shuts and pins the door closed behind him, laughing.

“David, you jackass!” Jim screams angrily; he knows all too well that this was David’s doing.

“Oh, come on! It was just a little bit of fun!” exclaims David, following the younger teen as he stomps off in a foul mood. Jim flips him off, grumbling.

“That was a dick move, David,” states Roger, shaking his head. He turns to look at Bruiser as the bull tests the door of the trailer. The bull snorts and stamps as he makes eye contact with him.

A few minutes later, Becky walks over with a sour look on her face. Since she was the last to be disqualified, she won the second place prize; a pear tree.

“Don’t like pears?” jokes Roger. Becky scowls.

“No, actually, I don’t,” she replies. She then extends the plant towards him, “Do you want this?”

“... Sure? If you don’t want it, I guess.” Roger says, uncertain. The pear tree is promptly shoved into his hands as Becky walks over to a nearby cooler to grab herself a beer.

Months later, in the early winter, Roger drives by Jack’s property again on his way to visit his girlfriend Jesse in a nearby town. As he does so, he looks out at the pond on the property, frozen with the most recent hard freeze. In it, he notices something out of place.

A large hole in the ice contains none other than Bruiser, and Roger can tell as he slows to a stop that the bull is in deep trouble. Roger can see that the animal has struggled for hours to get out - Bruiser hardly seems to recognize the teenager is approaching. As soon as he steps carefully onto the edge of the pond, though, and ice crunches beneath his feet, Bruiser gives one lunge. Despite the half-hearted attempt, Roger can tell the bull truly is stuck and exhausted.

“Crap,” he says, “Crap, crap, crap.”

A few minutes pass as the boy tries to think of how he can help the bull. The pond’s location is on the border of Jack and Jack’s neighbors’ properties, and he isn’t sure the creature can last that much longer. He needs to work to get Bruiser out, fast - there is no time to seek help.

He decides to use a few tools in the back of his truck to attempt to break the ice. The best he can do is a lightweight shovel. Slowly, he edges himself out onto the frozen surface of the pond, wary of the large, white bull. Bruiser’s eyes are blank as Roger begins trying to break the ice in front of him.

He is dismayed when the metal begins to crumple after only a few hits. He had only just put away the sledge hammer that had been in the truck bed for weeks the other day, and he curses his bad luck. After over thirty swings, he finally begins to break the ice directly in front of the trapped animal. The small bit of progress gives him some hope, and he continues hacking away, bit by bit.

He has cleared a path a few feet long by the time he hears another vehicle approaching. Looking up, he recognizes Tyrone’s vehicle, and eagerly waves his arms and shovel to get his friend’s attention. Tyrone spots him, and pulls over, jumping out with haste and running to the crest above the pond.

“How long has he been stuck?!” he yells.

“Long enough that he isn’t fightin' anymore! This is the only tool I have to work with - do you have anything?” responds Roger.

“Yeah, yeah! Be there in a minute!” Tyrone calls back, flying to the back of his truck. He returns less than a minute later, a heavy shovel and a pickaxe in hand. The two then continue clearing a path, the progress improved by the additions of Tyrone and his more effective tools. Within fifteen minutes, they have created a path for Bruiser. But the creature stands listless in the ice.

“He’s not doing well,” Roger gulps. Tyrone nods sadly in agreement.

“Now what?” he asks. Roger sighs, clicks his tongue, and hands Tyrone his tool back.

“Hold this. I’m gonna try to walk him out.”

“You’re what now?” Tyrone asks incredulously. Roger doesn’t reply, but instead walks back out onto the ice slowly.

Bruiser doesn’t so much as look at Roger when the teen stands next to him. The boy takes a deep breath to steel himself, then grabs the horn nearest him. The bull moves slightly with the touch, but is too tired to protest. Roger begins walking forward, and thankfully, Bruiser begins to follow.

“No way. No way,” he hears Tyrone say breathlessly.

Once they reach the bank, Bruiser sluggishly hauls himself onto dry land. He only makes it a few yards out of the pond before he lies down to rest. The white bull looks at the boys, dips his head, and begins to lick his hide. Roger grins, happy the creature has made it through his ordeal. Tyrone then elbows him in the ribs.

“Here,” Tyrone says, handing Roger something. $500. Puzzled, Roger looks at his peer, “If either of us deserves that, it’s the one who rescued the bull - not the one who ran from him. You’ve earned it. Get your girlfriend something real nice with that, hm?”

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