HORSES

The stallion chased my father's yellow Arabian into the corral. Sandy quit running and backed into the fence posts. My father twirled a lasso—he released and the rope grazed the stallion's neck. The stallion reared up and the lasso fell in the dirt. My father ran. So did Valdez. My father's cowboy hat flew off and rolled on its brim.
"You keeds shouldn't be watchin'," Gramma said.
Ben chuckled. "We've got front row seats."
Gramma tossed her cigarette and it smoldered in the grass.
The stallio...