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Rodeo Cowboy You meet him at a rodeo dance on the Fourth of July You are 17 He is 20; a calf roper with dangerous eyes and sinewy grace He isn’t tall, so you talk to him easily without craning your neck while he grins and chews gum When he leans in to ask you to dance, he smells of Big Red and beer Tell him to put his beer down before you’ll dance with him Some cowboys dance holding beers loosely in one hand, but your mama thinks it’s tacky and won’t stand for it Without the beer he flattens his hand low on your back and pulls you right up against his belt buckle, the tops of your thighs touching as you match him step-for-step in 4/4 time A fine layer of sawdust glides beneath your boots; the stony planes of his shoulder flex beneath his starched shirt as he spins you around the concrete pavilion   When you marry him in a satin dress with princess sleeves your mama and daddy sit stiffly in the front pew She clutches her pocketbook and a tissue, but doesn’t cry Your daddy sits with his arms crossed and his eyes straight ahead When the preacher says ‘You may kiss the bride’ the Cowboy bends you backward and puts his tongue in your mouth right there on the altar in front of everybody Your mama looks away   Move in with his weary brokedown parents and finish high school by correspondence You should get on the pill right away If you don’t, you will get pregnant, and you’re not ready to be a mother Be surprised when you’re almost immediately pregnant When you start to show, the Cowboy makes jokes about how he’s gonna have to start hauling you around in his horse trailer, and let the horse ride up front  He takes a sudden interest in what you eat, narrowing his eyes at your dinner plate, widening them if you get up for seconds Then one weekend he packs the truck for a rodeo a