Tull woke at dawn with his blanket twisted round him
and told Perra of the rodeo he’d seen inside his sleep.
She set the breakfast pan above the red heart of the fire.
“Start at the gate,” she said. “I’m listening. I won’t sleep.”
“It wasn’t real,” said Tull. “I knew that when I woke.
But in the dream the dust was gold, the stands were painted blue.
A cowboy named Aldo was announcing he would win
before the gate was open or the judges had come through.”
A snake called Siss came curling down the lane beside the stands.
She wore a little vest that had no armholes at its sides.
“Before we start,” she told them, “I require an equal turn.
A snake can be the mount. A snake can also ride.”
Aldo said, “You’ve got no feet. How can you wear the spurs?”
Siss said, “That’s easy. Neither one of us will wear a pair.”
The man who rang the starting bell, whose name was Barto, nodded.
“We’re here to keep a score, not poke holes everywhere.”
Three brass bells hung on sliding hooks around the outside of the ring.
Each mount would make one circuit with a rider on its back.
The rider had to ring all three and stay until the finish.
Miss one, or drop the rider, and there’d be no point for that.
Perra turned a piece of bread and asked about the score.
“So zero if you miss one?” “Zero,” Tull replied.
She waited while he sat up straight and pushed his blanket back.
He rubbed sleep from his eyes, then carried on with pride.
Inside that dream, the starting bell had one more task to do:
it shrank each rider till they fitted safely on their mount.
Barto set the bells just above the mount’s head before each round.
“Climb down beyond the line,” he said, “before the finish bell.
That bell restores your size. Stay on the ground till then.”
He moved the hooks to suit Siss first, and checked them all were level.
So Aldo stood beside Siss with a hat as wide as hope.
Barto rang the bell, and Aldo dwindled in the light.
He was small enough to ride along the snake’s smooth back.
The hat shrank too, though Aldo wore it tilted to the right.
They passed the first brass bell. The cowboy gave it one sharp slap.
They passed the second. Aldo leaned and made it ring as well.
Siss kept a steady pace around the golden circle.
Her tongue went out and in, as though she liked the dusty smell.
Then Aldo’s hat slipped over one eye just before the third.
He reached to pull it straight instead of reaching for the pole.
They passed without a sound. He shouted, “Take me back to that!”
Barto said, “One circuit. We don’t let you change the goal.”
Siss crossed the finish line. Small Aldo climbed onto the ground.
Barto rang the finish. Aldo grew, with dust upon his nose.
“I stayed on,” he said. “I rang two. Surely that is plenty.”
“Three,” said Barto, pointing to the bells above the rows.
Aldo had no point. He took his hat off for a look.
Siss said, “Now my turn. Are you ready for the run?”
He stared at his own back, then at the vest upon the snake.
“I thought—” “You agreed,” she said. “We both get the same fun.”
Barto raised the bells for Aldo, then rang to start the round.
Siss shrank to a narrow coil, while Aldo knelt upon the ground.
She climbed onto his back and settled between his shoulders there.
She settled like a scarf upon the back of his soft shirt.
“Ready,” she said. “You can stand. I’ve had enough of stairs.”
He ran toward the first bell with his face set like a stone.
Siss raised her head and tapped it with a light, quick knock.
He ran toward the second. She struck that one the same.
Aldo had to keep on running; now he could not stop to talk.
He slowed beside the third. “It’s high,” he said, and paused.
“Lift your shoulders,” Siss said. “I’m too low to make it ring.”
He stood. She stretched. The third bell sang across the blue stands.
Barto raised three fingers. Even Aldo heard the clink.
They crossed the line; Siss slid down. The finish bell restored her size.
Aldo sat upon the sand and breathed against his knee.
“Who thought a snake would weigh so much?” he asked the patient crowd.
Siss said, “That shirt is rough. But you’ve carried me.”
Barto brought the ribbon. It was bright and long and gold.
He gave it to the snake and said, “Three bells. One point. You win.”
Siss wound it round her middle till it made a shining belt.
Aldo watched her wear it, with his hat below his chin.
“Could we try again?” he asked. “My hat will stay here now.”
“Tomorrow,” said Siss. “This time I’d like to watch the show.”
She took a seat beside the stands, her ribbon glowing softly.
The next pair waited at the gate to enter the rodeo.
“And then?” asked Perra. Tull held out his empty plate.
“And then I woke. That’s all. The snake had got her turn.”
Perra slid a piece of bread onto his plate and asked,
“What did the horses think? Did they have to wait to learn?”
Tull looked across the field where two real horses stood.
“I forgot to put them in. That’s something I should know.”
Perra laughed. “They’ll dream their own. They’ll leave you at the gate.”
He laughed and ate his breakfast as the morning started slow.
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