Lost Cowboy

Chapter 6 - Pain

Jessie’s P.O.V.

“Jessie, you need to respect the bull. The minute you think you are better than him, the bull will remind you who’s in charge,” my dad said.

I nodded as he told me this. I sat there and listened as he continued.

“You need to watch the rides and pay attention to how the bulls behave. Most bulls will follow a set pattern,” he said.

“Are there bulls that don’t follow a pattern?” my ten-year-old mind quizzed.

“Those are trash bulls. They are unpredictable and the worst nightmare for any rider. You can only hang on and stay centered. Even the best riders have problems riding trash bulls,” he answered.

“I bet I can ride one,” I boasted.

My dad shook his head.

“I’m serious, Jessie. Respect the bulls. It’s a dangerous sport, and terrible things can happen. Skilled riders have died doing this,” he insisted.

I nodded, but I thought it could never happen to me. I’m not afraid to do what it takes to win.

As I spun to walk away, the black bull appeared. It was so close that I felt its fiery breath as it snorted.

My eyes fluttered as I tried to open them. I tried to move, and a lightning bolt of pain slammed through my body. The discomfort was so excruciating that I had to fight passing out. I took a deep breath, and another jolt of pain hit.

“f**k,” I groaned in pain.

“Don’t move, Jessie. I will get the Doc,” I heard Frank say to me.

His footsteps faded as he hurried out of the room. I blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the light in the room. I could finally make out a stark white ceiling and walls. The TV on the wall tuned in to the morning news. I tried to lift my head, and more pain ran through my body. There are a bunch of wires attached to my chest. I rolled my head to the right and saw an EKG recording my vitals. My eyes landed on an IV pump, and I followed the tube to where it entered my right arm.

My attention turned back to the bottom of my bed. I noticed my left leg. Well, I hope it’s not my leg. A few metal rods were sticking out of it. It was being held in the air by a damn convoluted trapeze mechanism. Damn, that did not look good. No wonder I can’t move. I dropped my head back onto the pillow. f**k, f**k, f**k.

A few minutes later, a short man dressed in a white lab coat showed up in my room.

“Hello Jessie, I’m Doctor Grant. It’s good to see you awake,” he said.

“How long have I been out?” I rasped, wincing in pain again.

“Two days. We kept you sedated because of the extensive pain you be in,” he stated.

“Can you knock out now?” I gasped as I tried to shift again.

I hate to imagine how excruciating the pain might’ve been.

The doctor laughed, “Well, we can give you something for the pain now.”

He typed on the computer beside my bed.

“So, how rough is it?” I asked.

His lips pressed into a tight line.

“You have a compound fracture of the tibia and fibula. We put in rods to stabilize the bones. We will put plates in during your next surgery. You received a few cracked ribs and bruised lung. Breathing will be painful for a while,” the doctor relayed.

“A little painful?” I said with a slight chuckle, which I regretted.

“Yes, and I suggest not laughing either,” he smiled at me.

“Thanks for the heads up, doc,” I groaned.

I watched as he typed more information into the computer. I had one more question, but I’m wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.

“So, Doc, how long will it take my leg to heal?” I asked and held my breath, waiting for his reply.

“With no complications, the leg should heal in three to six months,” he replied.

My head dropped back onto the pillow, and I stared at the ceiling. The anger welled in my chest. I can’t be out that long. What the hell am I going to do for six f*****g months? As I lay there, wallowing in my self-pity, a nurse came in and injected something into my IV. As I continued to lie in bed, my body relaxed.

That must have been the pain medication. I felt myself drift again. My eyes blinked a few times, trying to stay awake. A figure from my past appeared as my eyes drifted to the foot of the bed. My eyes fluttered, trying to fight the drugs. I swear she had brown hair and a familiar, wonderful smile.

“Willow?” I whispered.

I swear I heard her say, “Sleep, Jessie.”

Everything went black.

**********

The TV blared the evening news report. Damn, I can’t stand listening to that s**t.

“Seriously, Frank, do you always watch the news?” I grumbled, not even opening my eyes.

“Well, it gets boring having a one-way conversation was a moron in a coma,” he laughed.

“If only I could lift my arm to flick you off,” I rasped.

“You better save that energy. You’re going to need it,” Frank chuckled.

I opened my eyes and looked over at the chair next to my bed. Frank looked rough. He had a five o’clock shadow on his face in desperate need of shaving and large black bags under his eyes.

“You look shitty, Frank. How long have you been here?” I asked him.

“I still look better than you. Three days now,” Frank replied.

“You don’t have to babysit me, Frank,” I groaned.

“I didn’t want you to be here alone,” he shot back.

I recognize he’s only looking out for me.

“Frank?” I muttered.

“Yeah?” he replied.

“Thanks,” I said.

We sat in silence for a moment.

“Has anyone else visited?” I asked, trying to shift into a more comfortable position.

“Sunny stopped by the other day, but you weren’t coherent,” he said.

“Is she OK?” I asked.

“It freaked her out. She didn’t fall apart until she saw you lying there,” Frank grimaced.

“f**k,” I groaned.

“Who’s Willow?” Frank asked.

My head shot up, causing me to wince in pain.

“What?” I asked.

“When Sunny was here, you called her Willow. So who’s Willow?” he asked me again.

I have never told Frank of her. It’s one thing I tried so hard to bury, but now it keeps surfacing.

I let out a sigh.

“She’s someone who was part of my life a long time ago,” I answered.

“Girlfriend?” he pried.

I nodded.

“Jessie, I realize you hate to talk of your past, but does this have something to do with what happened this weekend?” he questioned.

“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head.

“Do you care to elaborate?” Frank prodded.

“Willow and I had been friends since I could walk. We were always together with my other friend, Cody. We attended the same events and were inseparable. As we got older, things changed. Willow and I started dating when we were in high school. I had dreams of being a professional bull rider, but she didn’t want me to do it. It terrified her I might get hurt or worse. She ended up leaving me a week before I left town. I had not thought of her since that day six years ago. Well, until this past weekend,” I said.

“Why am I only now hearing this?” Frank fumed.

“I didn’t want to remember it. I refused to think of that moment. That was the absolute worst day of my entire life. I loved her, and she walked away,” I sighed.

“By the time I had met you, she was a distant memory,” I continued.

“I guess that explains so much,” Frank grunted.

I raised an eyebrow at him.

“What does that f*****g mean?” I growled.

“Your recklessness, your shitty demeanor, and your relationship with Sunny. They’re defensive tactics to avoid getting hurt again,” Frank smirked.

“Bullshit,” I hissed.

“Really? Let’s see. You’re reckless on a bull because you don’t give a s**t about anyone else but yourself. You use your shitty mood to keep people at a distance from you. And your relationship with Sunny is nothing more than a bandaid,” Frank countered.

“You know what, Frank? You can go f**k yourself. That’s why I don’t let anyone know about my past life. Everyone thinks they’re a mother-f*****g expert on my life,” I yelled.

“Chill out, Jessie. You are in a damn hospital,” Frank growled.

“I don’t need this s**t, Frank. Everything I’ve worked so hard for is falling apart,” I growled.

“OK, I’m sorry for even saying a word. Let’s drop it,” Frank apologized.

I turned my head and stared out the window. I was so pissed I doubt this could get any worse.

“Jessie, I talked to your mom,” Frank added.

Never mind, it got worse.