Charles stayed close to the fence until late afternoon watching the races carefully. He then went to eat in one of the huts that offered the local cuisine. He liked Skillet Cornbread more than any other dish. The woman in the small kitchen in the back of the shed was singing while she was preparing it. Charles looked at her enchanted. Each movement followed the rhythm of the song, in a kind of dance. As soon as it was ready, she delivered it in a plastic dish.
“Young man!” she said smiling. “Try this masterpiece, you won’t find the same anywhere else in the South.”
Charles nodded and took the roll of pasta with lots of vegetables overflowing the plate. He sat at a table by the shack. At the same time a boy arrived. He asked permission to sit at the same table. Charles smiled and gave him space. He place the dish containing the same dish.
“Do you like it too?” asked the man while he took a piece of it.
“Yes, it’s the first time I taste it, but it’s good.”
The man stretched out his hand presenting himself. “My name is Luke.”
Charles shook his hand smiling before he bowed his head and went back to eat. After finishing and throwing the dish in the trash can, he returned to watch the frantic movements of the men involved in the races. Luke had also finished and was looking at him with questionable look.
“You are not from this area. Did you come here to take part in any competitions?”
“Oh no,” answered Charles. “if I get on one of those horses, I have no escape.”
Luke laughs. “I would be there all day among the horses. They are very intelligent animals.”
Charles nodded.
“One of my horses will be racing in a few moments. I bet no one can mount it. Only I can do it.” He pointed to one of the horses locked in the enclosure guarded by an attendant. “Come, I’ll show you.”
They approached the fence, and upon Luke’s call, the horse approached. Luke caressed him on the mane while Charles smiled funny.
The attendant arrived, it was his turn. They took him away in the starting compound.
“Our rodeo is a bit different from the common. It’s part of our tradition.”
The cow-boy went up on the horse and the fence was opened between the screams of the audience. The competitor’s efforts to remain in the saddle was in vain and after six seconds he found himself on the ground while the horse, happy to be rid of that weight, came back at the corner of the fence.
“I knew it.” Luke confirmed knocking on Charles’s shoulder. “No one but me can mount this horse.”
The races lasted all afternoon, between screams and laughter. Someone knocked violently and had to be carried off on a stretcher. But nothing serious happened. Eventually proclaimed the winner and gave him a handmade saddle and a cash prize.
“But don’t you go to take your horse?” Charles asked in amazement.
“No, no longer belongs to me.” He lowered his head with sadness. “But I could not go away without seeing him compete again.”
“Have you sold?”
“No, I’m leaving and I don’t come back here anymore.”
“You’re moving?” he asked while they were sipping a beer.
Luke looked at him smiling. “No, I’m running away.” He noticed that his sentence could give rise to various interpretations. “No, not running away in the sense of escape from justice. I’m leaving my home.”
Charles smiled and nodded.
It took three more beers before Luke explained the reason for his escape. It was dusk by now. The stage was already set up for the concert.