One afternoon, when Pardo rode in to get some lunch, Potee was already seated with Wrangler and Slip. Potee didn't know Pardo was alive. Two sidewinders had him hypnotized. He just didn't want the kid to get hurt. Sometimes, if a body gets bit, he learns a lesson from it.

Cookie came out and sat with Pardo, nibbling on something he really wasn't eating. Cookie wanted to talk and Pardo recognized the signal. It would take a few minutes for him to get to it.

"Potee been associating with Wrangler and Slip for the past few days. You tell those two rascals, if they do anything that loses me my help, I'm going to put arsenic in their food and when they is rolling around on my floor, I'll say, 'How'd that shit get in there?' You tell them I said that. Don't leave none of it out."

Cookie left with the plate he took with him. Potee laughed. Wrangler patted his back, and Slip smiled in a way that made Pardo uncomfortable. He had a job to do for Del, and he'd attend to those two as quick as he got back to the stables. He'd wait for them to bring their horses in for a checkup. They were due in for that tonight.

It was close to five when Pardo heard the commotion up near the corral. He guided Topper away from a nice spot in the stables to go take a look see. Roundup started the next day, and all the cowboys would be in the bunkhouse tonight.

Pardo saw what was going on and as soon as he got to the corral, he slid off Topper and went for the gate.

"Don't go near that horse, Potee. Stop."

Potee stopped ten feet from Thunder, one of the new horses that hadn't be ridden. They didn't call him Thunder because he played the drums. Pardo was halfway across the corral, when Potee turned toward the horse a second time.

"No. Don't get on that horse."

It was way too late. He'd been told if he rode Thunder, it would be his horse from then on. No one had been able to ride Thunder.

"Potee," Pardo said, grabbing his arm and pulling him back away from the horse.

"It's mine if I ride him, Pardo. Let go of me."

"He ain't broke yet, Potee. You can't ride him."

"No," Potee disagreed. "I'll have my own horse. I can be a cowboy just like you Pardo. Once I got me a horse."

"It's a joke, Potee. Those are the biggest jokers on the ranch. They want to have a laugh at your expense. I'll buy you a horse if you want to be a cowboy. Del will give you a horse."

"Last laugh's on them. I'm going to ride that horse. Let go."

Potee shook Pardo off. He was surprisingly strong for a scrawny kid. Pardo took a step back to keep from falling.

Thunder was watching the get together next to him. He watched Potee coming his way. He went back to munching grass. He blew air through his lips and waited until he felt Potee's sneaker hit the stirrup.

As quick as he felt the kid's weight on the stirrup, Thunder bucked one short buck. Potee was on his back between Thunder and the corral fence. At first he couldn't move. He couldn't breath. He coughed, and began to struggle to get up.

Pardo went for Potee. It hurt him when Potee landed hard.

"You assholes," Pardo spit at Wrangler and Slip as all the cowboys stood with their boot on the bottom rung of the corral fence.

"Don't touch me," Potee said as Pardo came closer.

"It's just a joke, Pardo. Lighten up. He ain't hurt."

As Potee felt Pardo trying to help him up, the kid turned mean. "Get off me. Let me do this. I need to do this."

Potee finally managed to catch his breathe. He got up, staggering to his right, grabbing the corral fence, and he staggered left, trying to figure out where he was.

"You don't have to do this," Pardo said. "It's a joke. You're the punch line. Don't you get it. I'll buy you a God damn horse." he said.

"Get away from me. I got to work here. I can't if I don't do this. Don't you know they think I'm some dumb kid. I ain't no pussy, Pardo. Let me do this."

"He's going to kill you," Pardo yelled in the kids ear.

"You ain't my mama. It ain't your concern," Potee said, staggering to one side and then the other.

Pardo felt helpless to help the kid. The kid had guts.

Pardo threw both hands up, palms out, backing away. He wants to do it and it will be his funeral. He felt bad about it, but he wasn't the boy's mama.

Thunder was casually munching grass. That kid wasn't going to try again. No one tried a third time because he snorted and pranced like he wanted them to just try it.

Potee was standing again. His back ached. His shoulder ached. His arm ached. He couldn't quit if he wanted to face the cowboys.

Thunder made a snorting sound to tell the kid to quit while he was ahead. Potee didn't hear the warning, and he did his best to walk what he thought was a straight line back to the left side of the horse. It took a minute for his eyes to focus.

Thunder turned his head to watch the kid coming. He looked a bit wobbly to Thunder. He sure is a slow learner, Thunder thought.

No one is going to ride me until I let him. Two can play that game.

"Kid, stay down," a voice echoed in Potee's ear. Another cowboy had seen enough. He turned and walked away.

One more cowboy had seen enough. He walked away, following two others toward the bunk house.

Somehow Potee got his foot in the stirrup and his butt in the saddle. He thought he might be dreaming. He didn't remember feeling the saddle under him before. It kind of felt nice to sit there, until Thunder bucked and when one buck didn't do it, he gave a mighty buck with all the energy he could put into it.

Lying on his back like some tipped over turtle, Potee tried to remember how to get up. He'd been knocked senseless again, and he wasn't sure what was going on. He looked at the cowboys looking at him. He looked at Pardo. He remembered where he was, and he rolled on to his hands and knees. He'd get up in a minute, but not yet.

"Stay down, kid."

"My name is Potee," he barked, spitting out dirt and dust with his angry words.

"Stay down, Potee."

"Maybe five's the charm," Potee mumbled, staggering to his feet. "Or is it six? Why am I doing this?"

"Stay down, kid," one of the cowboys said, walking away.

The rest of the cowboys had seen enough. He was only a kid. They took their boots off the low rung on the corral fence. They turned and walked toward the bunk house.

It was Wrangler, Slip, Pardo, and the kid now.

All the other cowboys had gone. They'd seen enough. No one had anything to say as Potee started to struggle to his feet. Thunder turned his head to watch the kid trying to get up. He'd given him all he had the last time. He wasn't going to get up, was he?

Potee did get up. He wasn't sure which way was up, but he was working on it. The stagger got more serious as Potee moved in Thunder's general direction, he thought.

Thunder had a thought too. Are you kidding me. Who is this guy?

After a couple of missteps Potee found his way back to Thunder

Pardo was sure the kid was about to fall down and he moved in to catch him when he did.

Potee's hand shot out to stop him.

"Pardo, let me do what I got to do."

"Wrangler, Cookies threatening to put ground glass in your food if this kid gets hurt on account of you. Before he does that, I going to beat you within an inch of your life. You hear me?"

Wrangler looked at Rowdy's right hand man. He'd do just what he said he'd do, and Wrangler had a hankering he'd gone too far this time. How could he know the kid was a glutton for punishment.

Pardo kept his distance. He didn't move too far back. If the kid fell, he wanted to catch him, even if he ain't his mama.

The kid wasn't going to make it back into the saddle. Once he fell and couldn't get up, Pardo would take him inside for Cookie to doctor. Then, he'd go back to beat the shit out of Wrangler, and Slip too if it was necessary.

It took a lot to get Pardo's back up, but he was close to as angry as he'd ever been. Potee had to do what he was doing for his own reasons. Wrangler and Slip did what they did out of meanness. They'd gotten mean with the wrong person this time. Pardo had become fond of Potee. He was good kid. He'd never been fond of many people. They'd pay if the kid was badly hurt.

Potee didn't try to hold the stirrup to get back into the saddle right away. Instead, he limped up beside Thunder's ear, and he put his lips close so the horse didn't miss a word.

While struggling to get up, Potee decided to explain his dilemma to the horse.

"I got to ride you horse. I like it here and if I don't ride you, I got to leave. So, you see, it ain't personal. I want to stay here, and I'm going to ride you if you don't kill me first. Just so you to know."

He was walking no better when he went to put his foot in the stirrup, once he found it. Thunder's head turned to watch.

He'd done what instinct told him to do, but there comes a time when a horse needs to face the facts. He could keep bucking this kid off, but he wasn't going to quit. He wasn't that heavy. He seemed nice enough. Maybe he'd give one more halfhearted buck, and he'd take him for a ride. He deserved a ride in Thunder's estimation. The ranch horses all had cowboys. They were treated right nice.

Thunder waited for the kid to find the stirrup and get his foot lined up so he could use it. Once his butt hit the saddle, Thunder gave one nice kick as he did his best to get off the ground, and he began to walk the boy around the corral as neat as you please.

Potee waited to get bucked off. He held the reins and the saddle horn in anticipation, but Thunder kept walking Potee around the corral.

No one said anything. They were all waiting for the kid to hit the ground again. Thunder just kept on walking. Potee held on tight.

Pardo was sure he'd be carrying the kid out of the corral, but the stallion kept on walking, until the kid said, 'stop.'

It took a lot less energy doing this than trying to throw the boy off. He should have thought of it before. It wasn't a big deal.

"Where's the brake," Potee yelped. "Stop horse."

Thunder already stopped. Pardo was a few yards away. He had a look of shock on his face.

Pardo started to laugh. Potee sat glassy eyed in the saddle. He wanted to get down. First he had to remember where down was.

"OK, Thunder. Good job. That's enough," Pardo said softly.

"I'll be a son of a bitch," Wrangler said, now inside the corral.

"Who's going to tell Del you gave away his stallion, Wrangler?" Slip asked with an evil grin.

It was a bad joke, but Wrangler wasn't laughing. He'd given his word, and on the Lazy R, you didn't welch on what you said you'd do.

"Potee, get down. We'll take care of Thunder for you. You've had enough for one day," Pardo said. "Don't even argue with me."

"I would get down, but I can't move. I can't feel my legs."

"Wrap your arms around me. I'll get you down."

Pardo kept backing away until both of Potee's legs hit the ground. The idea was to put him on his feet so he could stand up.

When he put Potee on his feet, the kid folded up beside Thunder's head.

Thunder didn't move, but he nudged Potee with his nose to see if he was still alive.