The Long Day of Revenge by D. P. Adamov

lived.
    The wound to his leg was superficial, but the intestinal goring had been close to fatal. The major problem was not the wound itself, but the dangerous infection that set in en route from the ranch to the hospital. Antibiotics saved his life, but he was none the worse for wear. He had even been given last rites, but fought back accordingly, wrestling with the angels of disaster until they fled from him in fear.
    In no time, everyone was talking about a novice by the name of Manolo Garza.
    Public sympathy was with him, which made him a celebrity from out of nowhere, as the promoters contacted him directly to work out terms for contracts in their bullrings. One by one, he conquered these cities. Tijuana, Nogales, Juarez, Mazatlan, Guadalajara, Aguascalientes, San Luis Potosí, Torreon, Piedras Negras, and finally Mexico City itself. There, in the largest bullring in the world, he cut ears and tail from both his bulls, proving none of his bravery had spilled out with his blood that day at the Manzano Ranch.
    The relationship with Lucinda had flowered, for right after his release they announced their engagement. From a hospital bed, they had vowed their love for each other, and a new beginning had come for both of them.
    A spanking in a rodeo ring and a goring on a ranch had changed Manolo Garza’s life more than he could dream.
    The Mexico City triumph had been a great one. With the last bull of the day, his second, he took the muleta and sword for the final act where he was to face his enemy alone. As was customary, a bullfighter would doff his hat, scan the stands for a chosen person, and dedicate the death of the bull to the honoree.
    Spotting Lucinda, he went to her with his montera or bullfighting hat in hand.
    “I dedicate this bull to you, as the love of my life. This performance I bestow upon you.”
    Lucinda received the hat tossed to her with mixed reaction, for in spite of what had been done to him on the ranch, he knew she still felt sorry for the bulls and hated the kill. It was annoying.
    “Ah ha,” he called to the animal. “Ha, novillo. Ha.”
    The bull was much bigger than Gaditano, whom had nearly killed him, but Manolo stood his ground and for nearly ten minutes, executed the most daring passes ever. The crowd was behind him all the way, and all he had to do was kill well to receive ears and tail.
    He had tried to explain to Lucinda why appendages were cut from the animals after they died, and she didn’t get that either.
    “In the early days of the bullfight, the matador was not paid well, so if he performed effectively he could claim the meat of the dead animal, which he would sell to the butcher himself as an added profit. In the times that followed, and as the bullfighter’s were paid more, they would have cared less about the dead bull, so the cutting of an ear was symbolic of laying claim to the meat which, of course, they did not sell. Somewhere along the line, someone did so well, one ear did not seem enough, so they cut a pair of ears for him. Somewhere again, someone else surpassed that, and the tradition of cutting a tail was born.”
    “I don’t like it,” Lucinda would constantly say. “I don’t like it, and I don’t like the kill either.”
    “I don’t like it myself,” he answered. “I do it because that is the way of things. There’s only one animal I want to kill, and when he is a full grown toro, I will do so. I haven’t forgotten Gaditano and what he did to me.”
    “There you go again…”
    Manolo had been afforded a brief moment to think of this as he walked to the fence and traded the lighter performance sword for the actual killing sword to be used to put the animal to death. The weight was noticeably different.
    “Ha.”
    Again, Manolo approached the bull and after a few positioning flaps with the cloth, profiled for the supreme event.
    They called it the moment of truth, for in the process, for a few fatal seconds, he would lose sight of the horn. While