“Nao tem problema.” He got a quick, relieved smile. “Que calor, nao?”
“Sim.” He clapped Raul on the back, liking the openness of that grin, the way Raul’s light-brown eyes sparkled with humor. “Could be worse. Could be Texas.”
He made a note to have Joa work with this one on his English. He had charisma.
“Sim,sim.” They talked for a while, about the heat, the stock, the other bull riders. Raul was staying with Eduardo. Poor man.
He grinned, shaking his head, finally. It was time to go pull Joa’s rope. “Well, if you need to get away for a bit, I have a goodplace, and I can always use some help cleaning it up on break, huh?”
“Sim. Obrigado.” Raul nodded, watched him. He remembered how different everything had seemed when he was first in the states.
Somehow, Raul had slipped under Balta’s radar, but he would make it a point to take an interest in the man from now on. Eduardo was not the best guide, with his weird shyness and his temper.
“You ready to ride, Joa?” Balta asked, pushing up next to the rail.
“Sim. Sim. I pulled a good one.” Joa was bouncing, rolling at the hip.
“Bom. You should work on Raul with his English, huh?” He got a look at Joa’s bull, who was ready to go, Balta could tell.
“Raul?” Joa got his rope set and climbed over, not really listening to him anymore. Joa rode with music in his head.
“Mm-hmm. He needs friends.” Balta kept up a slow, steady chatter, hoping the rhythm matched Joa’s music.
Joa set his hand, curled his fingers around, slapped his glove shut. Balta pulled. That was when the talking stopped and the concentrating began. He just pulled that rope.
It didn’t take long, Joa sitting forward, teeth bared as he nodded. The gate opened and the bull whirled out, finding a rhythm early, rolling from shoulder to hip.
Now was the time for shouting. Balta leaned on the gate, out over the chute, hollering loud. “Sit up! Sit up, Joa!”
He watched as Joa’s abs tightened, those thousands and thousands of daily crunches drawing the man in tight, keeping in him the middle. Six. Seven. The buzzer went off, Joa making a solid ride. It wouldn’t be a round winner. Still, with Joa it was personal. The score didn’t matter to him, only the ride.
He waited for Joa to bounce out of the arena before going to the edge of the metal platform to wave. “Way to go, huh?”
“Sim.” Joa nodded, pulled himself up and onto the stairs. “It was enough.”
“It will get you back for another ride.” He held let his hand rest on the small of Joa’s back, just under the vest.
“Sim. When do you ride?”
“Uh.” He checked the board. “Not for half hour.” He had at least two sets of riders to go.
“Bom.” Joa stripped out of his chaps and his vest.
Balta tried not to drool. He wasn’t the only one watching, so he had to be careful, for sure.
“Bonner is up,sim? We should watch.”
“Yeah. He’s a good kid, eh? Shy.” Joa hung his rope up.
“He’s gonna do good.” They leaned on the rail, bumping hips. Bonner had drawn a mean one.
“He’s gonna get creamed.” Joa was not hopeful, sometimes.
“You think so? Want to bet?” He had an extra five dollars.
“Sim. I seen this bull. What you want to bet?”
Balta opened his mouth to answer when the gate flew open and Bonner spun out. Mostly sideways.
