The Man from Booger Hollow

When they pulled into the stockyards, the scene was surreal. Beneath the glow of the stockyard lights, the silhouettes of countless steers stretched out before them—Texas Longhorns with sweeping horns, sturdy Herefords, jet-black Angus, towering Brahmas, and every breed in between. The air was thick with the earthy scent of livestock and dust. Before settling in for the night, they decided to let Jace stretch his legs. Leading him out by the halter, they guided him away from the trailer, giving him space to move, pee, and poop after the long journey. But the moment Jace caught sight of the sea of steers, his eyes widened, and he let out an earsplitting bray. It was high-pitched, insistent, and unrelenting, echoing across the stockyards as if he were protesting his new surroundings—or maybe worried he was being left there for good. His piercing cries ignited a chain reaction. The steers snapped to attention, their eyes reflecting in the lights as they began to bellow in response. One after another, their deep, rumbling calls joined in until the entire stockyard erupted into a chaotic symphony of braying and bellowing. It was as though Jace had sounded an alarm, announcing to every creature within earshot that the Chittleborough brothers had officially arrived in Fort Worth, Texas! Realizing that the long journey back to Arkansas and Tennessee would be too risky and tiring for Raz to make, the brothers made the sensible choice to stay put for the night. Jeremiah had two blankets in his duffel bag, and after giving one to Raz, they reclined their seats in the cramped cab of the truck, trying to find comfort amidst the clutter of empty cola bottles and crumpled napkins. Outside, Jace finally settled down, his braying replaced by the occasional rustle as he shifted in the trailer. As the night wore on, they spoke of the past and recalled Jeremiah getting torn apart by that nasty pit bull years ago and how Nick played that trumpet for five nights in a row, causing all sorts of panic among those crazed moonshiners! It was somewhere around midnight when Raz’s eyes sparkled with mischief. He turned to his little brother in the cramped cab of the truck, a grin spreading across his face. “I’ll give you ten bucks right now if you get out and play ‘Reveille’ on your trumpet,” he challenged, his voice low and daring. The gleam in his eyes hinted at the chaos that might follow. "Jeremiah’s eyebrows shot up. “Now?” “Now,” Raz confirmed, the dare solidifying. Jeremiah’s eyes narrowed. “Ten bucks?” he repeated, making sure he’d heard correctly. “Ten bucks,” Raz said, his tone firm. A sly smile spread across Jeremiah’s face. “How long do I have to play?” “Ten minutes,” Raz declared. “Five minutes,” Jeremiah countered, knowing how much trouble this could stir up. Raz didn’t hesitate. “You’re on!” he said, extending his hand. They shook on it, sealing the deal. Under the glow of a full Texas moon, Jeremiah climbed out of the truck, the night air cool against his face. He fished his trumpet from its worn case, wetted his lips, and took a deep breath. Then, with a gleam of determination, he lifted the trumpet and began to play Reveille, ever so loud and ever so proud! The first bold notes cut through the stillness of the stockyards, rising and falling in an energetic, impromptu serenade. Raz erupted in laughter, doubling over in the driver’s seat as he kept one eye on the second hand of his watch. Jeremiah played his heart out, the notes echoing off the metal pens and carrying across the sea of cattle. It didn’t take long for the commotion to start. Lights flickered on in nearby buildings, windows sliding open as sleepy, confused faces peered out. The steers began to bellow once more, a chorus of deep, rumbling moos responding to the trumpet’s lively call. Not to be outdone, Jace joined in, letting out a bray that echoed across the stockyards. Undeterred by the chaos he was causing, Jeremiah played on, his fingers dancing over the valves, his cheeks puffed with effort. It was the best performance of his life—a midnight concert under the stars, accompanied by a cacophony of cattle and a mule singing backup. When five minutes finally passed, Raz waved frantically, still gasping from laughter. Jeremiah lowered the trumpet, his grin wide and victorious. He climbed back into the truck to find Raz holding out a crisp $10 bill, the prize for his fearless performance. Pocketing his hard-earned reward, Jeremiah leaned back in his seat, his heart still racing from the thrill of it all. It was a night he’d never forget—his first in Fort Worth, his first real adventure away from home, and his first standing ovation from an audience of a thousand bellowing steers. The laughter continued, and the brothers laughed themselves into a deep sleep.