Jack is desperate to pee. He hops from one foot to the other, clutching his pants. I drag him off, entrusting Emmy to Chavez. We make our way past melting ice creams and squelched corn dogs to the foot of the stands and duck under the raised wooden structure to short-cut through to the portacabins. They’re all occupied. Jack’s feverish to get back to the action but I make him wait. Underneath the stands it’s shaded and cool and there’s a pleasant smell of sawdust and horseshit. Jack holds on to his crotch and presses his nose to a chink in the seats, unwilling to miss anything. I follow the fortunes of the next competitor from the ‘Oofs’ and ‘Aws’ coming from my son then peer through a rival gap trying to pick out Emmy, finally getting a glimpse of her up on Chavez’s shoulders, her cowboy boots pressed into his ears. I smile and shift position. She’s waving her straw in the air like a flag. ‘Now, folks,’ the commentator booms, ‘the Rodeo is about more than just a Bronco Buster trying to stay on an angry bull, am I right?’ The crowd roars. Another boom. ‘It’s about Courage, it’s about Character, it’s about . . .’ The crowd sways in agreement and I lose sight of Emmy. When I spot her again Chavez is bent over talking to another man, their heads close together. Suddenly, unexpectedly, they both look in my direction and for a split second the cold shadow of foreboding passes over me and I’m back outside the cabin, the night Emmy had been sick, watching Benjamín and Duval whispering under the oak trees. Then the crowd roars yet again, a leg blocks my view and I shake myself. It’s absurd to always see dark conspiracy in everything and I resolve to stop. Jack pulls his head out of the gap.

‘This is so cool.’ His eyes are shining. ‘Isn’t this cool?’

‘Yes!’

‘Do you love me?’ he demands.

I grin at his pink sunburnt face. ‘Uhhhhhhh, gee, let me think.’

‘Mum!’

‘Hey, it’s not like this is an easy question or anything.’

‘Mum!’

‘Just give me a minute, okay? Jeez! The pressure.’ I make a great pretence of thinking. ‘Now do I love you or do I not?’

‘Mum!’ He remembers himself. ‘Hey, look, just a simple yes or no, okay?’

‘Well, if you’re going to rush me, then no, sorry, I don’t love you at all.’

‘You’re so mean.’ He writhes with delight. ‘You’re such a witch.’

‘Yeah, well, it’s a witchy world, dude.’