Last Ride

I’m here. I’m going to talk to my grandfather, finally. It’s funny that I’ve waited for this moment countless times. But now that it is here, all I can think about is my Ally. My sweet, sweet Ally. I didn’t like how I had left things after our argument. All I’ve wanted is to make her happy. If only I could…

“So, it’s been a while.”

My marital reflections were easily deconstructed with his voice.

“Well, yes, it has been quite some time,” I said hesitantly. The truth is that I haven’t ever met my grandfather. My only recollection of him is wishing me a happy 6th birthday over the phone. Other than that and a few brief insignificant stories from my father, I hardly knew him at all.

“You’d better come closer, son, my hearing aid isn’t as good as they advertised.”

I made my way closer to where he was sitting. I couldn’t help but notice how limp and motionless he sat in his wooden rocking chair.

“Is that better?” I said with a more pronounced voice.

“No need to yell, son, I have a hearing aid for Christ’s sake!”

Taken aback, I managed to stiffen my posture.

“It has been some time. But I’m not here for polite chit-chatting. I’m here for answers. I want to know why you left my grandmother, your wife, and my dad, your son, the way you did.” A surge of hot anger coursed through my body. My whole life, I’ve been wondering why my father’s relationship with my grandfather was so broken. I wanted to know why we couldn’t visit him, why he never visited us. I wanted to know the reasons for his abandonment. So many questions overwhelmed me. The only sobering element that soothed my seething temperament was the pale fragility that illuminated my grandfather’s face.

He hinged his piercing grey eyes onto mine.

“I suppose you want to hear the story.”

Before I could respond, my grandfather took the obligation to speak.

“I was a damn fool!” he blurted out. His enthusiasm seemed to drift as if he regretted the words he just spoke. Then, with an emotional flip, he continued as boldly as he started.

“I loved everything about it! The audience cheer, the costumes, the adrenaline rush! It was a drug to me!”

He paused and glanced away from where I was sitting. I could tell that he was mustering up the courage to continue his story. Too scared to stop his train of thought, I decided to pretend to look at what he was supposedly gazing at. Which is not much at all. The interior of the room had an unsettling antiquity quality. It looked as if the place had not been dusted for years. Which struck me as odd since I was led to the room by his housekeeper.

“It was that damn bull!”

“What’s that?” I replied, awakening from our dismal pause.

“Fire Horn! Yes, Fire Horn! He was the fiercest, meanest bull to ever come across the Rio Grande Rodeo!” A new hue of pink livened his pale face.

“All the best riders could not last more than 5 seconds on that hot-headed bull! You know you gotta stay on that bull at least 8 seconds to qualify.” He said with the most serious face.

“I knew I had to ride Fire Horn. That bull was my destiny, my way to all-time fame!”

I sighed a big hot airy breath. I’ve heard this story, but not from him, only from my father. My father blamed Fire Horn for ruining their relationship, but I just didn’t know how.

“So, did you ever get to ride Fire Horn?” I asked.

A forced twitched smile appeared on the side of his face. He looked me in the eyes, glazed with regret.

“I had to. I gave so much and gone too far not too.”

I knew what he was talking about, or thought I knew. He gave up being a husband and a dad to live out his dream of being the best bull rider at the Rio Grande Rodeo. At least, that was what my father had told me long ago. He said that he would have been better off being the rodeo clown for how horrible his bull riding performances were. He was the laughingstock of all Rio Grande. But that never deterred him from his dream. My father told me how grandmother would always tell him how he was wasting too much time and money on a worthless dream that would never amount to anything. Eventually, my grandmother left him, heartbroken. It is a pity that such an attractive and strong woman that she was, never found the will to love again. I tried to blink out these unfortunate memories and focused back on my grandfather. I could see that he was anxious, however, he reframed from repositioning himself. There was an odd stillness about him.

“Fire Horn was my greatest ride, my last ride.” He paused and glanced away at the wall as he had done earlier. This time I could see that he was staring at a dusty old frame. I examined it further and noticed a weathered article mounted inside. I could only make out the article’s title from where I was sitting, “HIS BEST AND LAST RIDE.” I wanted to ask him what that meant, but he had a way of interrupting before I had the chance to start.

“It was a hot summer night. Just about the entire town of Rio Grande was there to watch the cowboys ride Fire Horn. That was the night I got to ride my bull!” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“I can remember the scent of the dusty air, the sound of the roaring crowd, the blaze of firing sparklers… It was the best moment of my life! I was about to jump onto the hairy backside of Fire Horn until I saw him. It was my son, your father, looking at me with his pleading eyes from the nearby crowd. We locked into each other’s gaze for only a moment, a moment that felt like hours. I can still remember the way he looked at me just before he ran off into the blistering crowd. I knew what he wanted. I just couldn’t give it to him. I wouldn’t give it to him.”

I held my breath in frustration. He never gave him anything he wanted, I thought angrily to myself.

“For a slight second, I almost forgot about Fire Horn. I thought about going after my son.” He took a heavy nervous swallow to clear his throat. “But then the rodeo intercoms blared onto the crowd: ‘Please all give a welcoming hand to Cleveland Santiago!’ The crowd went wild. I knew then that nothing was going to stop me!”

My anger suddenly intertwined with sadness for my grandfather. How could he not have known that the crowd was cheering him on out of mockery? How could he choose Fire Horn over his own son? Everything about this story was discomforting. I wanted to respond and tell him these things, but I just didn’t have the heart to do so.

“I remember stroking Fire Horn’s side for good luck before the bell was rung. Fire Horn wasted no time to burst through the wooden barriers of his holding pin. Some animals are not meant to be contained.” He chuckled to himself.

“I held on tightly onto the reins with my left hand while my other held my best cowboy hat up in the air. Time slowed to a motionless speed as I manipulated my body with his bucking kicks and twisting jerks. Every movement was fiercest than the one before. I couldn’t believe how unbelievably well I was doing! He was my bull!” He stopped to take a few struggling breaths before continuing.

“It seemed like an eternity until finally the 8-second bell was rung! I had done the impossible! I had beat the record! And then that is when it happened. I lost my focus for a slight moment and investigated the hollering crowd. I don’t know how, but I spotted my son in the boisterous commotion. He had stayed to watch me ride Fire Horn!”

Mixed emotions of pride, excitement, and sadness flushed his face. A forced grunt was made in an attempt to fight back the tears. I pretended not to notice.

“That is when the accident hap…”

Bang, bang! A strong knock on the door broke the intensity of the room. A young black man in white scrubs walked into the room. “I’m so sorry. Am I interrupting?”

With a sigh of relief, my grandfather said, “No. It’s quite alright, Andy. My grandson was just about to say his goodbyes. I suppose it's time for my shower?”

Andy smiled and pushed in a wheelchair from behind the wooden doors. He then glanced in my direction and asked if I could lend him a hand. My god, I thought. I should have known. My heart sank into my stomach as I got up from my chair to help assist my grandfather into his new chair. The flaccidity of his body in my arms was more than I could bear. It all made sense now.

Once his limbs were placed comfortably in his wheelchair, my grandfather looked at me one last time and said, “Never let your dreams get in the way of your happiness.” His words stung as Andy pushed him beyond the wooden doors, out of my life, once again.

The long car ride home was torturous. Before the visit, I had in my mind that I would leave angry, but all I felt was an uneasy relief. The mystery of my grandfather was gone. I could go on with my own life.

I finally made it back home, with Ally patiently waiting inside. I could tell that she was still hurt from our argument earlier. Yet, she somehow still made me feel welcomed. I love her. I love her more than anything in this world. I walked towards her and brushed her long auburn hair behind her ear.

“Ally, my love, I’m ready.”