Death By Rodeo Part I
My name is Sunny Alexander. I’m Henry James and we’re writers for Dark Sides of the Truth magazine.
Monday mornings at Dark Sides is normally chaos for staff members. Our Chief Editor, Rick McDonnell has this thing for roaming the halls in search of victims to terrorize.
Rick is not a Monday kind of guy.
After sneaking danishes and coffee from the break room we fired up our laptops and started checking email. Neither of us flinched when the sounds of Rick’s yelling echoed from somewhere in an office.
“He’s in rare form this morning.”
“At least he’s not yelling at us Henry.”
“Not yet he isn’t. I think I’m going to bug out.”
“Not without me you don’t.”
“You had breakfast yet?”
“Seriously James? I just watched you knock back three danishes.”
“Getting warmed up.”
“Johnson’s Diner?”
“You read my mind.”
“Children’s books are pretty easy to read Henry.”
“Bite me Alexander. You want breakfast or not?”
We met again in the parking lot of Johnson’s Diner, a tiny hole in the wall specializing in multiple iterations of greasy fare. After ordering we sipped coffee and chatted.
“Got anything working?”
“Not a damned thing girl. What about you?”
“No. I’m heading to Houston and spending some time visiting Damen.”
“Your brother the surgeon at Houston General? How’s he doing?”
“Great. He said something about us going to a rodeo over the weekend.”
“You ever been to one?”
“No. I suppose you have right?”
“You could say that. Back in the day I was a PRCA card carrying member.”
“Like I’m supposed to know what that is Henry.”
“Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association.”
“Why does that not surprise me? So which dinosaur did you ride?”
“Very funny Alexander. I tried bulls, then switched to saddle bronc. Didn’t take me long to figure out I wasn’t cut out for either one.”
“I hear it’s dangerous.”
“No more than any sport that can kill you. It’s been awhile since I’ve been to one. Mind if I tag along?”
“Not at all. Let me give Damen a call and see if it’s okay with him.”
As the phone began to ring Sunny put the call on speaker.
“Hey Sis, what’s up?”
“Damen. I’ve got you on speaker. Henry’s with me. You got a minute?”
“Yeah, I’m good. How’s it going Henry?”
“Pretty good Damen. It’s been awhile.”
“Yeah, not since Sunny broke up that black market donor ring. Shot up any more cars lately?”
“Listen, you two can bromance later. Damen, are we still on for the rodeo?”
“Already purchased the tickets.”
“Do you mind if Henry comes?”
“Oh heck no. I’ll order another ticket today. It’ll be great to finally meet someone who puts up with your special brand of crazy.”
“Whatever.”
“Henry, you’re welcome to stay in one of the spare bedrooms. Sunny you still have a key?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay great. See you both soon. Henry do what you can to keep my little sister from doing anything stupid.”
“That’s going to be a tough assign…”
“Bye Damen.”
Sunny disconnected the call, then picked up her fork and pointed it across the table.
“You’re going to behave on this trip James. You got that?”
“Absolutely. What’s the worse that could happen?”
“Just like McDonnell I hate it when you say that.”
Friday evening we walked into the Houston rodeo arena and found our seats. Damen’s ticket selection made sure we would be up close and personal to the action.
The only thing separating us from rooster tails of flying dirt, grunting sounds of horses in full gallop and the unique scent of animals and leather was a short rail grate ringing the arena.
Still, there was no possible way to miss out on the action thanks to the octagonal jumbo tron suspended above the dirt floor. Everything was going swell and we were all having a blast until the last event.
They always save the bull riding for last.
“Okay we have to go.”
“Are you kidding Alexander? This is damned near the best part.”
“I don’t care Henry, we have to go now.”
“Damen? Talk some sense into your sister. What the hell is the problem?”
“See those three guys running around out there?”
“The rodeo clowns?”
“Yeah. I’d totally forgotten about it, but Sunny suffers from Coulrophobia. Especially after she saw that Pennywise character.”
“Are you serious Damen?”
“As a heart attack.”
Who knew a certain person in our little enclave had a phobia about clowns?
“Henry I said we have to go now.”
“Okay chill Sunny. We’re leaving.”
We had just reached the concrete walkway which led outside when we heard the screams and then it was quiet.
Too quiet.
We stared at the jumbo tron. Two riders on horses were steering a bull toward a catch pen. A cowboy along with two of the rodeo clowns was dragging the third clown out of a large barrel. The clown didn’t appear to be moving, arms limp, heels dragging ruts in the packed sand. The other two huddled over him for several seconds and then the bull rider began to flail an arm as if calling for help.
Damen scaled the fence and ran toward the men, yelling as he tried to gain traction in the sand, “I’m a doctor, I’m a doctor.”
“Sunny stay here.”
“Don’t worry Henry. I’m not going anywhere.”
By the time I reached Damen, he was standing, brushing dust from his jeans. He and I traded glances then Damen turned toward the two clowns and the bull rider.
“I’m sorry guys. There’s nothing I can do. He’s gone.”
“No way man,” one of the clowns said, “no fucking way that hit could have killed him. That fucking barrel has enough padding in it he could have taken Niagara Falls without a scratch.”
“Well something killed him,” Damen shot back. “From what I can tell there’s no external contusions. Unless I miss my guess he died from some kind of hemorrhagic condition. Contact from that bull could have caused it.”
“I’m telling you doc, there’s no fucking way. We’ve all been in that barrel hundreds of times. We’ve taken hits a hell of a lot harder than Randy just did. It’s impossible.”
“Improbable maybe, but not impossible.”
“I’m telling you Doc, it just ain’t possible.”
An EMT vehicle approached and stopped. When two men got out Damen spoke to the driver.
“He’s gone. I’m doctor Damen Alexander from Houston General. Take him there. I’ll notify the staff you’re on your way.”
As the EMT team began to load the body of the rodeo clown on the gurney Damen and I walked across the arena in silence. We scaled the fence and joined Sunny, sharing what we knew as we headed to Damen’s car and while Damen placed a quick call to Houston General.
“Damen, is it possible something else killed that man?”
“You mean something intentional Sis?”
“Yeah.”
“Anything’s possible. We won’t know for sure what killed him until the autopsy. After that, I guess the police will handle it from there.”
“You’re kidding right?”
Damen turned and leaned against the driver’s side door as he stared at us.
“Wait a minute you two. You’re not…I mean you can’t…”
“So whatcha think Sunny? Think we just found us a story?”
“Why Mr. James I do believe we have. Damen get in the car. We’re going to tell you what we need.”
“No way Sis. I’m not…”
“Damen Robert Alexander don’t make me have to beat you.”
“Henry, help me out here man.”
“You want me to go up against her? I don’t think so dude. Trust me, just take the pill Damen, after that it’s all downhill.”
READ ON — DEATH BY RODEO PART II
Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Conclusion
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