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“What kind of wager?” Chris asked.
“You know the old bull out back?” Evan asked.
“If you’re referring to the death trap of what we used to call our mechanical bull, yes, I do. What about it?”
“I think you need to get out and meet someone. Or at least make an attempt,” Evan replied.
“I think you need to mind your own business, but okay,” Chris said. “What about the bull?”
Jake cleared his throat. “Is this a good idea? He has a big boy job now.”
“He’s tough, he can handle it,” Evan said.
“What are we talking about here?” Chris said, both intrigued, and slightly annoyed. He had a feeling he could handle whatever they were talking about, especially if it was time on the bull.
When the boys were young, they strung a barrel between two trees and attached ropes to make the “bull” bounce around. Riding the bull would be punishment for all various flavors of shenanigans the three had gotten into, not the least of which was having to ride it for eight seconds while the other two brothers yanked the hell out of the ropes to try to make you fall off if you lost at a drinking game.
“You get on old Bessie back there, and me and Jake give it a spin. If you can last longer than eight seconds, you win.” Evan grinned.
“Easy. What do I win?” Chris asked.
“We’ll put the rest of the fence up without you.”
Jake grumbled. “I didn’t agree to this.”
“Don’t worry, he won’t win,” Evan said with a smirk. “And when he doesn’t win, he has to do what we say.”
“It’s not gonna happen, but obviously you have something in mind. What is it?” Chris asked with some apprehension.
“If you lose, you have to get on a dating app, and go on a date with someone before Valentine’s Day,” Evan replied.
Chris scoffed. “You’re serious.”
“Dead serious. You need to get out of the house, bro. You’re like an old retired man and you’re what, twenty-six? It’s pitiful. There’s lots of great girls out there,” Evan replied.
“This is stupid. But I’m gonna do it. Because I know I can win.” Chris was pretty sure he could beat either of them at riding the bull, although they hadn’t checked the ropes or anything on the old barrel in a few years.
“Okay, I’m back in. This is a good idea.” Jake grinned.
Moments later, the brothers headed out to the area of the ranch where the two old oak trees stood, the bright blue barrel still hanging between them, not looking too worse for wear. Chris inspected it, checking the ropes’ integrity, and satisfied the ropes themselves would last at least eight seconds, he tipped his hat to his brothers.
“Saddle up!” Evan said as he patted the barrel like it was an old friend.
Chris rolled his eyes, but hopped up on the barrel, straddling it like any other bull, and gripping the small rope attached to the “neck” while he prepared himself. Eight seconds was nothing. He knew it.
“Ready…” Evan said.
“Set…” Jake continued.
“Go!” they shouted in unison.
Four seconds. It took four seconds before Chris flew off the barrel, landing flat on his ass. Jake and Evan hadn’t added any rules, but Chris knew he should have asked for some. Once the ride started, it was too late. Evan grabbed his pocket knife and slashed one of the four ropes holding the barrel to the tree, and it off balanced so quickly, Chris couldn’t recover from it.
“You cheated,” Chris said.
“There are no rules to barrel riding,” Evan replied. “You know this.”
“But you cut the fucking rope!” Chris yelled.
