Where Hearts Run Wild Page 7

  Armos’ words grabbed Bobby’s attention. He looked at Armos and secretly he wanted to hear more.

  Armos saw it in Bobby's eyes but remained calm and casual about it. He knew if Bobby thought he came to preach, Bobby would shut down and become defensive.

  Armos continued. “Sam doesn’t make enough money here to feed a prairie mouse. He does this job because he likes young people and he wants to help them.”

  “Why are you telling me this, Armos. I mean, I understand, but what am I supposed to do about it?”

  “I’m telling you this because, like Sam, you’ve got to put your past in your pocket and forget about it for a while until you’re ready to deal with it. Time and the future is all you have, it’s all any of us have. Think about Sam. Then think about yourself. Stop testing everything and everyone before you flunk your own test.”

  Bobby shrugged and turned back to the window. “Is that all you have to tell me?” he said with a quiet voice.

  Armos stood. “For now. We can talk again if you like. Sleep on it, Bobby, give time a chance. And oh, by the way, don’t be embarrassed about your run-in with Rebel. He’s given Sam a heck of lot worse time than he gave you.” Armos smiled. “Good night, young man.”

  Armos walked out of the bunkhouse quietly, closing the door behind himself.

  Bobby looked after Armos. His feelings were mixed.

  And he thought, what a confusing situation he was in. On the one hand, he is at war with J. R., and maybe others if it escalates. And on the other hand, he’s got Armos and Sam acting like they are on his side? It has always been the opposite up until now. Adults and authority against him, and guys in trouble dodging each other, or working together to fight or get around the law. But one thing is for sure, Bobby was thinking about his life—for the first time—and somehow, some crazy how, it felt good and brought a certain and unexplainable calm he had never experienced before. Must be part of growing up, he mused.

  Bobby continued to look out the window at the moonlit corrals and countryside as an ever so faint smile dawned on his handsome young face.

  * * * *

  Rebel stood quietly in his darkened barn stall. Eyes wide open as if contemplating the day’s events. A moment passed, and from out of a shadowy area in the barn, Bobby appeared. He walked to Rebel’s stall and came to a stop. Rebel swung his head in Bobby’s direction, and held his large brown and shining eyes still and intent on the boy. The two remained motionless for a few seconds, as if one were waiting for the other to make a move.

  “I know you’re better than me, faster and smarter,” Bobby said in a whisper of a voice. “But I’m gonna ride you someday.”

  Rebel whinnied softly as though he had understood Bobby and approved his claims. Rebel stepped to the rail and closer to Bobby. A bit surprised, Bobby stepped back a foot or two. Rebel expelled a low neigh, then lowered his head as if to bow.

  Silence.

  Then, Bobby took a big leap of faith by stepping up to Rebel. Bobby hesitated at first, then raised his hand and petted Rebel’s forehead with a few gentle strokes.

  “Maybe you can be the first real friend I’ve ever had, Rebel.” Bobby’s words were heartfelt as Rebel responded with another soft snort.

  “I wonder if it’s the same for you?” said Bobby. “I mean, you can have a gang to hang around with, but are they your friends?”

  Bobby stopped petting Rebel and stepped back. “I better get back to my room, or I could get in trouble.”

  Bobby turned and moved out of the barn, disappearing into darkness. Rebel looked after him with a calm demeanor.

  * * * *

  Far off in one corner of the barn, Armos stood in the shadows having observed Bobby’s and Rebel’s warm encounter. It brought a smile to his face, and it cemented his thoughts about Bobby being a decent young man with a chance to pull out of what would appear, on the surface, to be a hopeless situation. He made a promise to himself then and there he was going to do everything in his power to salvage Bobby from the ruins of delinquency.

  Chapter 11

  The sun broke over the hillside and announced to the western world that morning had come. It beamed its life given light and heat to all and anyone for the taking.

  Inside the mess hall, many of the youths were moving along the chow line taking their breakfast. Others were sitting at bench tables eating as they chatted with one another.

  To Bobby’s dismay, J. R. had somehow wound up next to him in the food line. They pushed their trays, moving along as the cooks gave them eggs, fruit, toast and other basic, but healthy foods many of the young men had never had on a consistent basis.

  “Hey, Shortino, whose side are you on around here today?” J. R. snidely remarked.

  “I’m on my side,” said Bobby. “So what are you talkin’ about?”

  “You are lame!” J. R. snapped back. “You blamed me in front of Sam for Rebel tossing you on your fat head. If they think we’re not together on stuff, they’ll wipe the floor with us. How easy is that for you to figure out?”

  “I don’t believe it,” said Bobby. “But like I said, I’m on my side while I’m here. I’m going to fly low and get out of this place the day my time’s up.”

  “It’ll never happen,” J. R. commented with confidence.

  Bobby stopped and faced J. R. “Tell you what, I’ll make you a deal. If I can ride Rebel for one minute, I get to tell you what to do for the rest of the time we’re here. And it’ll probably be ‘shut your face’.”

  J. R. took in Bobby with suspicion. He was secretly unnerved with Bobby’s confidence in the riding of Rebel. He wondered if Bobby knew something about Rebel that he did not? But there was no way he could let Bobby think he was apprehensive about the offer. And he simply could never give Bobby the upper hand in any situation between the two of them. J. R. shrugged and continued to move along the chow line. “Cool. You got a bet.” But J. R. was feigning his confidence.

  “It’s a deal,” Bobby said with determination. He then took his silverware from a tray that did not have knives and moved off.

  J. R. looked after him with a smirk, then looked at the silverware a moment. He picked up a spoon and a fork. Then he scooped up another fork and slid it into his pocket.

  A deviant grin came across his face as he glared back after Bobby.

  * * * *

  Another training session was taking place as the boys and the horses tested each other’s skills. A young inmate had managed to mount a horse and ride at a moderate trot around the corral. Although the horse was frustrated, it did not appear to be an overbearing task to put up with its young rider.

  A glimmer of success.

  Sam rode a horse into the corral and steered it up next to the young man and his horse. With one sweep of his hand, Sam grabbed the horse’s bridle straps, pulled up strong and hard, slowing the animal and allowing the boy to jump off and run clear.

  In a stall in another section of the corral, Armos was saddling Rebel as Bobby and J. R. watched. Rebel was wearing a bridle that was tied to the corral fence. The horse jostled about uncomfortably but did not fight with his usual feisty temperament. Rebel was too smart to resist while being locked in a stall. Too cunning for that as he knew hard wooden rails would inflict cuts and bruises if he started to buck and fight for his freedom. Rebel was careful as to which battles he chose to take on and which ones he would pass on. And if he was going to raise a ruckus, he would wait for the right moment.

  Rebel swung his large head around and looked at Bobby. The horse snorted softly as if to say, “If Bobby rides me, it’ll be fine.” Bobby peered into Rebel’s big brown eyes, and he felt a sense of peace in the animal’s expression.

  Armos and J. R. did not notice the exchange between Bobby and Rebel.

  “Just watch everything I do, boys,” said Armos. “’Cause next time it’s gonna be your turn.”

  “Rebel doesn’t seem to be too worried about wearing a saddle?” J. R. quest
ioned with some apprehension. “What’s up with him, anyway?”

  “Sam took him out yesterday,” Armos replied. “He wanted to take a little steam out of him, make sure he was safe for you two. Rebel’s starting to come around. Maybe he’s gettin’ a little more mellow with time.”

  “Well,” said Bobby. “Is it okay? I mean, can we ride ’em?”

  J. R. threw a mean glance at Bobby. “Hey, wait a minute, man, we got a deal!”

  Armos stopped saddling Rebel and flashed a look at the boys. “A deal?” said Armos. “What deal?”

  Bobby and J. R. exchanged a guilt-covered look. “Nothin’,” said Bobby. “Just a little bet.”

  Armos gave Bobby and J. R. the once-over. “I don’t know how a bet is going to play in here,” Armos said with suspicion. “But I do know that Sam’s givin’ you guys a shot at Rebel because he thinks the two of you need an extra challenge.”

  Armos completed strapping on Rebel’s saddle. “Now, who’s first?”

  J. R. cracked a thin smile at Bobby who ignored it the best he could.

  “I am,” Bobby said, giving J. R. a firm look. “J. R., I want you to stand away from Rebel.”

  “Hey, man,” said J. R. “No problem.”

  “Pipe down, both of you,” Armos commanded. “And concentrate.”

  J. R. stepped to the rear of Rebel. Armos untied the bridle straps from the corral fence. He held the straps out to Bobby.

  “He’s all yours,” Armos said with an assuring smile. “You’ll be all right.”

  Bobby moved slowly to Rebel’s left side as he took the bridle straps from Armos. He then placed his left foot in the stirrup, lifted, and pulled himself up and onto Rebel. Rebel jostled about in protest, but Bobby could feel there was nothing serious to worry about, and somehow, he could read Rebel’s mood to be one of tolerance considering who was on his back. Bobby turned back, giving J. R. a challenging glance. Bobby then looked at Armos and drew a breath, attempting confidence.

  “Let's do it,” said Bobby.

  Armos smiled and moved toward the stall gate.

  J. R. was now out of Armos’ line of vision. J. R. quickly removed the fork he snatched from the chow line and bent it into a “V” shape. He then stepped up to Rebel and slipped the bent fork under Rebel’s saddle. Rebel shook a bit, obviously a tad annoyed by the fork, but it was nothing that would move him to buck.

  Bobby was unaware of J. R.’s prank as he was far too busy mustering up the courage to pay attention to anything else.

  Armos unlatched and pushed the stall gate open.

  With that, Rebel dashed out of the stall and into the corral arena with Bobby hanging onto the saddle horn and the bridle straps solidly. Rebel began neighing loudly as he ran across the corral grounds. All eyes shifted to Bobby and Rebel. Suddenly, Rebel stopped and started to buck wildly and in a state of near frenzy.

  Sam, Armos, and the other boys looked on with a mixture of worry and curiosity.

  Rebel kept bucking in an attempt to throw Bobby. Blood began to seep out from beneath Rebel’s saddle as the bent fork jabbed into the crying horse’s flesh. He kept heaving feverishly, angrily, as he wailed out his cries of pain.

  Bobby hung on for dear life, his expression filled with anguish.

  J. R. watched the scene unfold from within Rebel’s stall. He smiled at his workmanship, unabashed by the trouble he had caused.

  Bobby became terror-stricken and he knew he was about to be thrown into the air and out of the saddle.

  Sam realized something was terribly wrong. He ran quickly to a utility horse, mounted it, and rode toward the still bucking Rebel. But before he could side up to Rebel and pull Bobby to safety, Bobby was thrown off Rebel and became airborne. Head over heels he went and crash-landed in the dirt-covered corral. Bobby was dust covered, dazed, and totally humiliated. He stood, staggered a second or two as many of the other boys broke out into laughter.

  Sam continued to ride alongside Rebel as he struggled to bring the horse to a halt. As he did, he noticed blood trickling from under Rebel’s saddle. Sam reached down and released the main strap that held the saddle in place. The saddle came loose and slid sideways and off Rebel’s back.

  With that, the bent fork sprung out from beneath the saddle and flew, landing near where Armos stood. Armos reached down and picked up the blood-stained fork. His face began to flood with anger.

  Rebel settled down and came to a halt with Sam. Sam dismounted his horse and moved to Rebel’s head and removed his bridle

  An assistant cowboy approached Rebel and removed his saddle, examining his cuts caused by the fork.

  But the second the saddle was off Rebel’s back, the horse lurched forward and ran across the corral, jumped the fence and galloped directly out into the open prairie at full speed.

  Armos walked across the corral and into Rebel’s stall where J. R. was still standing with a cocky grin. Armos held the fork up in front of J. R.’s face, shaking it a time or two as he attempted to control his anger.

  “This part of your bet with Bobby?” Armos growled. “You’re not going to get away with this. You just crossed the line with me, and I throw little fish like you back into cold water!”

  J.R.'s smirk vanished in a flash and was replaced with genuine fear. Without a word in his defense, and caught red-handed, J. R. turned from Armos and walked away at a face pace.

  The other boys noticed and stopped their jeering at Bobby. They went back about their business with the horses.

  Sam moved to Bobby and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, Bobby,” Sam said with genuine concern.

  Bobby pushed Sam’s hand off his shoulder. “Leave me alone!”

  “Take it easy, there’s a reason this happened,” said Sam, “there was blood—”

  “Just leave me alone,” Bobby interrupted, cutting Sam off. Bobby then turned and ran out of the corral, leaving Sam at a loss.

  Armos approached Sam. He held the fork up for Sam to see. Sam took the fork in his hand with a look of disgust and dismay.

  “Lysaker?” questioned Sam.

  Armos nodded as the two exchanged a frustrated look. “That punk!” Sam said as his dismay tilted to anger. The two men looked off in the direction of the departed Bobby with great concern.

  * * * *

  Rebel’s blood had dried on the bent fork that laid on the administration office’s table. J. R. sat at one end of the table with Armos sitting at the other end. Sam stood in the middle of the room, gazing at J.R. with measured contempt.

  J. R. knew he was in trouble as he struggled to keep cool, glancing about the room, avoiding Sam’s and Armos’ glare of disdain.

  “What was the bet you had with Bobby, J. R.?” said Sam.

  “It was nothin’.” J. R. attempted to brush it off.

  “He could have been hurt seriously!” Sam shouted.

  “He’s okay,” J. R. said in a weak voice.

  “No he’s not!” Armos piped in.

  “Again, what was the bet?” Sam demanded.

  An awkward moment passed with J. R. squirming like a toad on hot, dry sand.

  “Whoever…whoever could stay on Rebel for a minute or more would take over,” J. R. muttered.

  “Take over?” said Armos. “You mean like—be the big man on campus?”

  “Yeah, something like that, but he lost, so nothin’ is going to change,” said J. R.

  “No!” said Sam. “You fixed it so he couldn’t win. And even if he would have, neither of you are in charge of anything around here! You got that?”

  J. R. looked down as he knew he was in a losing position.

  “Are you pushing in here?” Sam said with a direct hit, jolting J. R. who fought to regain his bravado.

  “No way, man,” said J. R. “That little punk! I’m going to grind him up!”

  “Bobby?” Armos replied. “No ’fraid not. One of your other boys gave it to me. Seems like you’re losin’ your grip aro
und here. Maybe you push too hard?”

  “You just don’t understand what this is all about, do you?” Sam chimed in.

  “No, you’re the one who doesn’t get it!” J. R. fired back. “I’m killing time here just like everybody else. Nobody wants to be here. You can keep playing cowboy as long as you want. But you won’t nail me, and nothin’ is going to change!”

  Sam walked around the table and moved closer to J. R.

  “I’ve been here before, J. R,” Sam said in a calm voice. “And so has Armos. We know who you are and where you’re coming from. We’re not out to change the world. We’re just trying to make it a little better. If you want to spit in our face, that’s your choice. Not a smart one, but you just do what you want. Now go to your bunkhouse and stay there.”

  “And stay away from Bobby!” Armos said with a firm voice.

  J. R. stood with no comeback for the two men. He walked out of the office not sure what would happen next. But he knew one thing for sure. He was going to get Sam and Armos and everyone else, one way or another.

  Sam and Armos looked at each other with mixed emotions over what was supposed to be a disciplinary meeting but had turned out to be more of a confrontation.

  “What are you thinkin’?” said Armos.

  Sam let out a ragged breath. “I’m thinking we had better keep a closer eye on him.”

  “Why don’t we just boot ’em out?” said Armos.

  “That’s the first thing that came to mind when I saw the fork,” said Sam. “But all we would be doing is unloading our troubles and giving them to someone else. We’re here to try and make a difference, remember?” Sam said with a tone of doubt.

  “I’m not sure anything is going to change that kid,” said Armos. “At least not for a while, and I hate to say it, but maybe never in the direction he’s headed.”

  “You’re probably right, Armos. We’ll give it another shot, and if he doesn’t pan out—up the river he goes.”

  * * * *

  Bobby’s room was dark and quiet. A soft breeze blew through the window fluttering the small curtain. Suddenly there was a knock on the door from outside. A moment passed, and the person calling on Bobby knocked once more. No response.