I understood why Papà had allowed me to take the 'catching bulls' lessons at Mr. Wood's farm after months of complaining. It was child's play. A baby calf, who didn't struggle against much. I was furious when I found out that this was what I would be 'learning' in those lessons. But I had learned to stop fussing about it to Papà. I knew it hurt him, and I knew that these lessons were a big step for him. He came to watch a couple of times, maybe to reassure himself, or to truly see me, but he never mentioned a bad thing about the bull catching again.

But still, it didn't satisfy me.

Mr. Wood could tell. Every time I had one of those lessons with a few other boys and girls, I would make sure to show him that I was bored out of my mind. Deep inside, I truly didn't want to be like that, but it still happened.

It caused Mr. Wood to call me back after one of those lessons were done. I cleared my throat, dug my nails into my palms as I curled them into fists, ready to spit out some words. To go against him when he would tell my behavior off. Ready to tell him how unfair everything was and how much better I was than the other children. I wasn't scared of telling my opinion. But before I could spew out my words, he went an entirely different direction.

"Are you looking for an extra job?"

I had just turned sixteen, and besides selling eggs from Mr. Wood's chickens around the neighborhood since I was thirteen, Papà had wanted me to search for a job where I could work a little more, to earn for my own. I would choose the farm a hundred times over a supermarket. So instantly, I said yes. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Look after the animals, muck out the barns, chores around the farm." Mr. Wood had mentioned, glancing at me as he filled a few buckets with water for the sheep.

"And?" I was waiting for him to tell me that I could fight the real bulls in return.

"And what?" Mr. Wood didn't look at me, kept busying himself with the chores. "You'll get your pay."

"That's it?" I frowned, trying to make eye contact, but it seemed like he didn't return that on purpose.

Mr. Wood finally looked up at me. "That's it? That's what you get when you work, Benjamin. Money."

"Oh, come on!" Was I being rude? Yeah. But my mind told me that Mr. Wood was the closest step to the dream I wanted to fulfill, so I didn't stop. "I don't care about the money, all I want-"

"I know that, Benjamin." Mr. Wood grinned. "Okay, okay. A paycheck and some tips from a former cowboy."

I grinned widely, and couldn't help myself when I ran over to him and wrapped him in a hug.

When I was seventeen, I sometimes helped Salomé with the finances of the refugee house, or with the administrative arrangements for the refugee's visas. I had signed a confidentiality agreement to not speak a word about the finances to anyone else and I had professionally lived up to that.

However, it also gave me an insight in my parents' finances sometimes. Salomé never worried about it so much, but I knew that Papà found it a sensitive matter.

One day, I had to wait for Teddy to send me the in- and outcomes of the month, to which I scrolled a little up and down on the computer. After a few minutes, my eyes fell upon a map on the online banking website called 'widower benefits'. I had frowned at that, and after I had made sure that I was alone, I had pressed on it.

There were only incomes, and it was a lot. For the time period of Mamma's death, until Papà's marriage with Salomé, he had gotten money for being a widower with a child to care for. It had been in that map ever since. He had never taken money out of it. Well, once, for the coffee machine, but on the same day, he had put the same amount of money back into it, from his savings map. Perhaps, he had paid with the wrong money on accident.

For some reasons, an unsettling feeling appeared in my stomach. To me, it felt as if he had been earning money over Mamma's back. Because, if he needed it so much, why had he never used it?

This matter had frustrated me so deeply, that I wasn't able to look into his eyes during dinner time. I was feeling vexed, but I couldn't tell them why. I was sure that they would lose their trust in me, and I would lose my 'job'. So when Papá had asked me what was wrong, I simply told him that I didn't sleep well and had been tired. They let it be, after that.

But the pile inside of me had gotten much bigger.

On a Saturday in summer, a livestock market was held in one of the villages nearby. Mr. Wood had asked me to tag along, he would sell a few of his female calves, and wanted a baby bull in return.

Although I enjoyed myself at the livestock market, it also made my thoughts wander to years back, when I had went there with Mamma and Papà. When everything was still okay.

I stared at the hotdog in my hand, oh, how I had scolded Papà for eating cows at the livestock market. And look at me now. I smiled painfully. The memory was bittersweet. We had never gone to this market, anymore. I wasn't entirely sure why, but soon after I had made up my mind. Papà didn't support my dream, so why would he let me?

Now, it was part of my job, so he couldn't bring anything against it. I scoffed silently.

Seated at a picnic table with fresh lemonade and the hotdog, I enjoyed my small break after a round of steer wrestling for fun, and having walked with three calves around a small circle, showing their best sides, hoping people would be lured into buying them.

Mr. Wood had always wanted me to do the talks, he told me I could be the perfect salesman if I wanted to. Apparently my voice displayed competence, reliability and honesty. Stuffing in a joke so now and then, people were absolutely buying it. It was a trait Mamma had definitely given to me. Papà was more of a man with less words. They had complemented each other perfectly.

I had one more round to go, but now I had some time to watch a western riding show. They would reign, spin, and barrel race. I was at the edge of my seat. I loved every second of it. Without noticing it, I had constantly mumbled out my thoughts, cheering them on, wondering things, complementing the horse.

"Gutted they don't have bull riding." I mumbled out after that, unaware of the pair of eyes that had been on me for a while. Especially when I had been catching bulls.

"That wouldn't be the safest choice, with metal fences purposefully for nice family day out events, would it be?" A slow, American voice spoke from beside me. I looked sideways, eyed a man who I guessed, was around his mid-thirties. Dark blonde hair with a short beard, a grey hair here and there. He held a cowboy hat in his right hand, his left hand was stuffed in the pocket of his denim trousers.

I grinned. "I suppose not, Sir." I eyed him curiously.

"Are you into that stuff? Bulls and all?" He asked, leaning his elbows upon the fence, eyeing the rider, who was dodging all the barrels.

"Yeah." I answered, keeping my eyes on him. "I adore it. Have been ever since I was young."

"I saw you just then in the amateurish training ring. So, you're joining the try-outs?"

I shook my head in disappointment. I had heard about it, there would be a few try-outs, where you could show your English and Western riding skills. You could win prizes and if you were extremely lucky- a spot in a riding school. Mr. Wood had told me off, he said it wasn't worth it. Papà leaned on his opinion. I had applied for college, too, after all.

"Why not? You seem passionate about it."

"I am, but.." I hesitated, turning my face away from him. "My dad doesn't really like it."

The man lifted one eyebrow. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen. Eighteen soon."

He hummed. "Shame that your father doesn't support your dream. But sounds very familiar to me. I never took the time to listen to him anymore. Ever since I had gotten where I wanted to be, I couldn't be happier. I felt freed from everything. It was as if he had me attached with a string. I could only go where he was taking me."

I supposed I felt that way too. A moment of silence followed, until I wondered: "So, you're a cowboy?"

He stretched out his hand. "Colter is the name."

"Benjamin. What are you doing here in England?"

"My parents emigrated to Canada ages ago, but my brother still lives here. I like to visit him so now and then." Canada it was. My bad. Colter placed his hat upon his head. "Then I heard about this event. Quite nice to see how the English pull this off."

"I wouldn't dare to compare it to the events in Canada." I chuckled. "Though, my wildest dreams take me there sometimes."

Colter laughed. "So, is that all you can do? Lying your butt off about those 'special' calves in order to make some money out of it?"

I frowned. "These are good calves. Bred and raised in the English countryside."

"I'm just kidding. But?"

"Well, yeah. But my aspiration is definitely somewhere else."

Colter hummed. "So, you're almost eighteen. College around the corner, I suppose. What are you going to do?"

"Something with economics and finance."

Colter pulled a face. "That's not to be compared with what you told me a few minutes ago."

"I know." What else could I do? I had always known what I wanted, but I simply couldn't. With an economic education, I could help the refugee house in different ways. My money matters 'job' had made me choose the study.

"Well, I am one of the hosts for try-outs in a few weeks. It can gain you a spot in the best rodeo school around the area. You could pursue bull riding. I observed you for a while. You seem like you have a lot of potential." Colter eyed me from all the way up, to down. "Your boss thinks the same." He glanced in Mr. Woods direction. How did he know him? "So, if you ever feel the need to let go of those strings, let me know, and I can cut them for you. Feel entirely free, of course. I wouldn't want to push you directions you don't want to go, either. Otherwise new strings would be attached to you."

Try-outs in Canada? Pursuing bull riding? Chasing my deepest desire? Freedom? Oh, how wonderful that sounded. It seemed too good to be true, but at the same time, what if it wasn't?

We exchanged phone numbers, and he handed me his business card. I instantly checked it on the internet. It was real. It existed. A rodeo school, where multiple rodeo champions had been taught years ago. My heart thumped loudly in my chest.

A moment later, I stood eye in eye with Papà. "Who was that?" He asked, curiously.

I frowned, laying my now completely cooled off hotdog aside on one of the picnic tables. "What are you doing here?"

Papà smiled a little. "Well, I just wanted to see if your talks would make me want to buy a calf."

"You never took me here anymore, and now, out of all sudden, you're here. I'm sure that's not the reason." I scoffed at him, turning my face away.

"Believe it, or not. It is." Papà answered, trying to make eye-contact. "I'm serious, I want to see how you do it."

"Well, I don't want you to watch me." I shot back, gulping the lemonade down, anything to walk off. With Colter's conversation in mind, I was sure Papà had tied me with his own, many thick strings. And I was getting sick of it. Why did he care, all of a sudden? I felt that there had to be another reason lying underneath it.

Papà frowned, reaching for my arm. "What's going on? Did that man tell you something that upset you?"

Yes, and you are the cause of it all. I thought, but answered: "It has nothing to do with him. I just don't understand why you never took me here anymore, and now you're interested in what I do. It doesn't feel genuine to me."

Hurt flashed upon Papà's face. It hurt me, too. But I pushed it aside. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Benjamin, but that really wasn't my intention. Mr. Wood told me that you were going to do the sales pitches, so instantly I wanted to come."

"Such empty words, coming from you." I mumbled out, pushing the hotdog in his hands. "I have to go." Colter was right, it was time to cut the strings. He had held me in his grasp for too long. 

It was time for me to live my own life.

---

So.. what do you think about Benjamin's thoughts? Everything leading up to this point?

What do you think what he will do next?  Will he truly leave? Will he do something else?

What about his friends, Amelie, Nolan? Gloria?

Let met know your thoughts x