Balta sat back, contemplating his toes. They were turning black. This was two events in a row now that his lower leg had taken a beating. Bones could only take so much pressure.
“Silva.” Doc was standing there, hands on his hips.Pra caralho. That man was everywhere.
“Bom dia, Doc.” Balta tried not to roll his eyes. He certainly couldn’t run.
“Howdy. Sports medicine has a spot waiting for you.”
“No, no. I don’t need to take up a cot, huh? I’ll just put ice on it. Sam Bell is helping.” He didn’t want to go sit with people who were bleeding.
“Is it broken?”
“Hmm.” He didn’t think it was bad enough to keep him out of the next round, even, but it was probably a hairline.
“Look. Will you wear the soft cast, asshole? At least on the drive?”
Doc stopped, frowned as Jonesy went flying by.
“Sim, sim. Go see what’s bad. I will keep, huh?”
“I’ll have Shaun bring you a cast, old man.”
Doc disappeared and Sam showed, a bag of ice in hand.
Old man. Well, he was, wasn’t he? There were only two other riders on tour who were close.
Then there was Coke, who everyone called Gramps. Balta wasn’t sure, but he didn’t think the bullfighter was that much older than him.
Balta grinned at Sam. “Coke is the old one, huh? Doc, too. I am strong as steel.”
“You’re a force of Brazilian fucking nature, cowboy.” Sam grinned at him, tossed him the bag of ice. “Hand me a beer.”
“Here.” He gave Sam one of the good ones, not the lite beer he kept for the rookies. “So, Beau is looking good.”
“He’s on a fucking roll, man. A roll. It’s good for him.”Sim, but maybe not so good for Sam.
“Yeah. So was Jason, huh?” Early points leader Jason Scott had taken the kind of fall they all dreaded and was out for the rest of the season. “I pray for your Beau.”
“Yeah. He’s got lots of folks on his side.” Sam shrugged. “Coke’s been to see Jase a couple times at AJ’s place. I keep thinking me and Beau ought to go see.”
“Yeah?” He wondered if Jason would approve. He seemed to want to be alone, or at least alone with Andy Baxter. “Well, if you do I will send a box.”
“That’d be nice. I gotta check with Beau and Aje first.” Sam sighed, ducking as one of the cameras came by the window of the door.
“Come sit with me.” They could lean. Maybe nap. Sam was a champion napper.
“Yeah?” He got this crooked smile and a nod. “Thanks, man.”
“Nao problema.” Balta squinted at his toes. “Doc will never let me hear the end of this. I’ll have to find my size bigger boot.”
“You need to get the lace ups. They go around the ACE wraps real good.” Sammy settled beside him, sighing.
“I like my cayman.” Balta leaned on Sam’s shoulder, just to show it was okay.
“Spoiled Brazilian.” The words were not filled with anger, like they would be with another.
“I am.” His sponsor had bought the boots for him. For Joa, too, and for the new man up from Sao Paolo, whose name escaped him right now.
“Still, a pair of lace-ups might be good. For emergencies.”
