Sangre De Toro (Old Draft - Now Published!)

Chapter 2 - Refuge

'It's so hot. Poor animal, you must be so thirsty.' The woman presented Pepelito with a huge bowl of water. He felt better when he drank, but he could not lift his head up for more than half a minute at a time and felt nauseous.

Crouching beside him, she fished her phone from her pocket as it vibrated. 'Hello?'

'This is Alfonso from Veterinarios Centrales. You just rang, how can I help?' a scratchy voice said through the speaker.

'Alfonso Cadiz? A member of...Veterinary Professionals for the Abolition of Bullfighting? That's you, right?' The woman placed a hand on Pepelito's side. He didn't know what to do.

'Yes. Why?' Alfonso's voice was wary.

'This is going to sound crazy. A bull just wandered into my house and collapsed on the floor, completely covered in blood. Who knows how he's managed, but he's obviously escaped from a corrida. He's still got the banderillas stuck in him. Could you help?' the woman said breathlessly.

Heavy rain had started outside. A particularly loud thunderbolt struck the ground somewhere not too far; Pepelito tensed up, then gave a cry as the metal barbs dug deeper. Back home he always took shelter when it rained but it was so, so hot. Running in the sand and on the concrete had burned his feet; the cooler air gave him some relief. He wished he could stand up so he could feel it on his skin.

Alfonso's voice sounded angry and distressed. 'I think I can hear him. So cruel. I'll do what I can, but his injuries will be so severe, there's a chance I'll have to put him to sleep.'

'No. That's terrible.' The woman sounded so upset. 'But I guess it's better than the plaza de toros...'

'Well, exactly, and thanks for caring. He did well to get away,' Alfonso said. 'I'll be with you shortly. Let's see what we can do. Can I take your name?'

'Rita Silvera.' The woman shut the door firmly. Pepelito could hear them a few streets away, yelling and shouting and knocking on doors. He trembled at their voices.

'OK, Rita. I'll be with you soon. But be prepared for a sad outcome.'

Pepelito lowered his muzzle into the bowl again. The barbed darts dug into his back every time he moved. He tried to ignore them. As he drank, he knocked the bowl against his snout. Water spilled onto the floor. It felt refreshingly cold. But his tongue and throat felt so dry. He had never been so thirsty. He closed his eyes, trying to think of the fields of grass he could hardly even remember.

*

'Buenas tardes,' a male voice said. Pepelito opened his eyes and scrambled to get up, ignoring the stabbing, searing pain as he retreated further inside. Was this guy going to hurt him like the others?

'He's there, as you can see, he's covered in blood,' Rita said, gesturing behind her. Alfonso took a few steps forward. He had unobtrusive glasses and a short beard. Pepelito leant against the wall and forced himself to stand, flinching in agony as the sticks in his back pressed against the hard surface. It hurt so much to move but lying down was even more dangerous. He had to get ready to run again, but could not bear even the thought of another step.

'This poor animal is suffering so much. It's horrific. How can anyone enjoy such a disgusting spectacle,' Alfonso sighed, walking over to Pepelito, who was just about managing to stand against Rita's blood-smeared wall. She shut her door firmly, gaping at them.

'Let's see what's happening with you, toro. Well, he can still stand up, so that's a good sign,' Alfonso said. He placed a gloved hand on the bull's shoulder. Pepelito was too tired and defeated to react. His tongue was hanging out. No matter what he did everything hurt. Every small movement worsened the pain.

'You know, I think he could pull through. I'll give him something to stop the bleeding, and some serious painkillers,' Alfonso said, opening his bag of veterinary equipment.

'Come on. Let's see if we can get these banderillas out, stop them hurting you even more.' Pepelito bellowed in pain and fear as the strange human got close to him. He no longer had any energy to resist or fight.

'Poor boy. I know you're scared. I know it hurts. But you won't even feel this.' Alfonso's voice was reassuring and calming. He took out a syringe and a padded bandage, and put a rope round Pepelito's nose so he couldn't easily move. The bull sank to the floor, weak from the effort of standing, the sounds he could hear growing distant.

'Pobrecito. Where will you take him tonight?' Rita said.

Alfonso crouched beside the black bull and slowly, carefully brought the syringe towards his neck. 'Yeah...I need to discuss that with you. He's lost loads of blood; he needs as little stress and excitement as possible. Ideally, we'd take him into the surgery, then get him to a barn or an isolated area on a farm.'

He took a breath. 'It's really, really not ideal. But he's so hurt, I don't think we can move him humanely without being seen. How would you feel about keeping him here for a while?'

'Here? In my house?'

Alfonso's face became sombre. 'Look...they had a real big name matador there today, Javier Castella. I just saw a video of him talking, to hear him you'd think this is the worst event in the history of humanity. It was meant to be his star moment where he killed six bulls. He only killed one, and today's corrida is cancelled. The plaza is closed. So he and his fans are in a bloodthirsty rage.'

'Castella was there? How in the world could my sister have married that scumbag?' Rita seemed upset. She'd been kind. Pepelito wanted to walk towards her and comfort her.

'He's your sister's husband?' Alfonso said in surprise. Pepelito felt the pain lessening where the vet had injected the needle. His muscles began to relax. The stabbing sensation in his neck and back no longer overpowered and overwhelmed him.

'Sadly, yes. We don't speak. She stopped speaking to me when I became a vegan. She's as bad as he is.'

'Are your parents still around, what do they think about it?'

'My dad...let's say, he made his feelings known, but he's very old. It's him I feel for the most. My mum just reckons we should get on because we're 'family'. I'm dreading when our parents get too old, Maria won't lift a finger to help but she'll control the finances.' Rita sighed, reached over and touched the bull on the nose.

Pepelito was still afraid, but something was different. He didn't know what was happening. They didn't act like other humans. Why were they so calm and gentle?

'I'm sorry,' Rita said, her voice shaking. 'I don't know why I'm telling you this. And of course I'll help this poor creature.'

'You're a kind person. It's a pity your sister and her husband can't see that animals deserve respect,' Alfonso said. There was a huge bloodstain where Pepelito had leant against the wall. He stared, exhausted, as the vet retrieved antibiotic wipes, stitches and a pair of pliers from his bag.

'Aren't you going to knock him out?' Rita's voice was concerned.

'Ideally, yeah. I've given him a sedative, but as he's a ruminant he won't do well with general anaesthetic. After all this, I don't want him choking.' Alfonso patted Pepelito on the side. 'Do I, eh? Aren't you good?'

'Will he be OK?' Rita asked.

'I hope so. It would make me a very happy man if the bull won for a change.'