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Bow-Legged Girls by Melanie Ezell
🕑 Added 2021-09-23 20:13:04 +0000 UTCBow-Legged Girls
Melanie E.
I laughed as my pappy picked me up and helped me to stand on the old farm gate that made up one of the panels of the cobbled-together safety fence, the only thing that separated the raucous crowd on our side from the action on the other.
I always loved going to the rodeo. The music, the smells, but most of all I loved the animals. The bulls with snorts and mad power, and the horses with their glistening flanks and wild beauty. Even at six years old I knew that was where I wanted to be when I grew up, in there with the animals, and the cheer of the crowds.
I didn't want to ride the bulls, though. I didn't want to be out there on the angry stallions either or racing around the barrels.
No.
What I loved the most were the showcases... especially the trick riding.
The girl in the arena was beautiful. Her long, dark hair was pulled back, whipping in the wind as she rode, and her purple leotard and white jeans shimmered and flashed as she performed her routine, standing on the horse's back, dragging herself behind it, rolling under its belly or neck. I couldn't help but stare in awe as she raced around the arena, to the applause of all.
Pappy must have noticed my slack-jawed awe, because he patted me on the shoulder and laughed. "Be careful o' bow-legged girls like her, Patty," he said, in his slow raspy way, barely audible over the noise around us.
"Why?"
"Cause they spend more time in the saddle 'n' on their feet," he said, with one of his grins that told me he was telling me something I shouldn't repeat around Mom unless I wanted soap in my mouth.
He started laughing again, so I laughed with him, even though I didn't really get what he meant at the time, then went back to watching the show as another rider came out, and the two girls started doing tricks together, holding hands or switching horses or all kinds of other things, each more exciting than the last.
And I wanted it.
*
I was eleven before my folks let my cousin start showing me some of the tricks. They didn't want to, because as they said "trick ridin' is fer girls, not boys," even when I would show them videos on the computer of lots of boys doing it too, just because the local club was all girls didn't mean it was everyone who did it. My cousin was in the club, and I'd been begging them for years to let her teach me, but it was Pappy who finally got them to give in.
"Marnie," he said to Ma, "you got a good kid. He don't fight ya on nuthin', he helps with more 'n' his share o' the chores, an' he keeps his nose outta the dirt. If he wants ta learn some fancy ridin', just let 'im."
"But Pa, he's already smaller'n the other boys. They hear he's been doin' trick ridin' and--"
"An' they'll know who c'n get 'em a date with one o' them bow-legged girls," Pappy said, with that same wiseass grin of his as he winked at me.
Mom scowled at him, I guess knowing herself what he was getting at. "You shouldn't talk about those girls like that, Pa."
Pappy chuckled, but bowed his head. "Well, if y'don't think they'd be a bad influence, let 'im try it." He ruffled my hair and handed me his handkerchief to try my face, where I'd been crying after another rejection. "S'long as he don't let one o' them horses tump over on 'im he'll be a'ight."
Tina started showing me some of the basics the next week, and to everyone's surprise but mine I was a natural. At thirteen I went to the local trick riding club to ask to join, only to get the same complaint as Mom.
"We don't got no boys in our club."
"But I love ridin', and I'm good," I cried, again fighting tears. Much as I tried, I'd never been good at not crying when I was upset.
"He is," Tina said, her hand on my back. "I've been teachin' him and he's already better'n I am."
The lady who was representing the club gave us a long look. "You've seen our shows. We don't wanna change things for no boy."
"Then don't!" I cried. "Just treat me like one of the girls, I don't care!"
She laughed at that. "Oh? You'd wear one o' the spangly tops and pretty up then?"
I sniffled. "Yes. I'll do whatever it takes. I just want to ride."
"Stand up, boy." When I did, she looked me over long and hard. "Small, ain't ya?" When I didn't bother saying anything she frowned.
"He wears the same boots as I do," Tina volunteered. "He's been usin' my gear to train, so he's good with it."
"Can't nobody but the club and yer folks know yer a boy on the team."
The lady's face changed from a frown to a gasp of surprise when I practically tackled her in a hug.
It didn't matter, so long as I got to ride.
When I got home that night Ma had a few things to say again.
"What would yer pa think? Bless his soul," she said, collapsing at the kitchen table. "You 'n' that damn fool gymnastics o' yours."
"Ma...."
"And you," she said, staring at Pappy as he stood behind me with his hand on my shoulder. "Encouragin' all this! You should be ashamed!"
"Damnit, Marnie. It makes th' kid happy, seems about t'only thing that do. It ain't hurtin' no-one."
"But when folks find out!"
"Then don' let 'em. Tina can lend 'im some fem'nine clothes t'go to shows in an' nobody gotta be none the wiser."
"You know what God had t'say about men in women's clothes, Pa."
Pappy's hand tightened on my shoulder, and I didn't have to see his face to feel the glare he gave her. "I also know Pat ain't doin' this t' peep on th' girls, so that don't matter."
Back and forth for what felt like another eternity... but I got to join the club.
*
For the next three years my life was filled with school, chores, and riding. A few of the girls in the club were upset the first day I showed up with Tina in some of her old hand-me-down riding clothes, but their attitudes softened when we showed them what I could do, and true to Pappy's word, nobody but us had to know that "Patty Clarke," the little blonde firecracker with the giant smile on her face at every event, was really me, Pat Callahan.
Ma kicked me out of the house on my sixteenth birthday, when I came home from practice carrying gifts from the girls on the team, none of which were for boys. That was okay, because Pappy let me stay with him. He gave me Ma's old room, I think partly to rub it in her face, and offered to re-decorate it for me but I didn't mind the dusty rose and cream colors at all.
Without Ma around to bother me about it I spent more and more time with the girls from the team, and it wasn't long before Patty just stayed around and let Pat rest. Nobody at school batted an eye with the change, since jeans were jeans and boots were boots and nobody but the Mennonite girls wore skirts to school. Pappy just took it in stride.
"If'n yer happy, yer happy. An' you ain't hurtin' no-one," he would tell me, with plenty of hugs.
*
"You okay to ride today?" Sally, one of the other girls asked me.
"Yeah. I need ta," I told her, wiping my tears away carefully to avoid mussing my makeup any more than I already had. "It's what he'da wanted."
"You sure, 'cause Lisa said she'd--"
"No! No," I softened, plastering a smile on my face for proof. "Please, I need ta."
I rode out into the arena and waved to the crowd, soaking in the cheers, and the smells, all the same as they had been when I was a little kid.
Except this time, for the first time ever, there was no Pappy waving back to me from the side of the fence.
*
I was on my third loop and getting ready for my finale when it happened. I must have not checked my straps well, because my saddle straps buckled and slipped, and I went with them. I'd trained for falls, and managed to roll with the force as I tumbled across the dirt and mud and landed with a thud, my breath knocked out of me.
The crowd's cheers turned to cries of alarm. I tried to stand up, but it wasn't until I felt a pair of hands take me under the arms and lift me that I managed it, the cheers returning.
"Thanks," I said, turning to look at my rescuer. I expected to see one of the clowns or hands, but instead I found myself staring into the deepest brown eyes I'd ever seen. "Umm."
"Randal," he said, blushing. "Sorry, I jumped the fence when I saw ya fall. Ah..."
"Patty," I told him, blushing myself. Even at eighteen I'd never hit a real growth spurt, and Randal towered over my five-three frame.
Our staring match was interrupted by the medics arriving and checking me out. they gave Randal a stern lecture about picking me up off the ground as they examined me and loaded me onto a stretcher.
"She gonna be alright?"
"I think so," the lady medic who was looking me over said. "But we're gonna take her out on the stretcher just in case."
"Uh, can I see you after?" He asked me, blushing even more.
"Me?" I asked in surprise. Sure, I had a bit of padding on, but even then I wasn't a match for none of the other girls on the team.
"Ah yeah. I've watched you at a lot o' these shows and ah..."
"An' what?"
"Well," he grinned, with that same shit-eating look Pappy always had. "I've always had a thing fer bow-legged girls."
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Photo 16821165 © Yuriyzhuravov | Dreamstime.com
Comments
Guerilla Grue
Thanks! It was something that just popped in my head and I wrote over the course of about an hour. I wasn't sure if it was good enough for a Patreon post, but Erin liked it, so that's what we decided to do with it :) *hugs*
Teri Ann
Wow, different an' I love it. Patty got some thinking to do..
