The Bull Monologue

I was washing the dishes when this boy, Paco, that worked with me and was a couple of years younger, played with a napkin. He moved, then turned as if he was in an arena in front of a bull. He seemed to enjoy the game, yet he took it very seriously. I could not help but smile looking at him.
“How is the bull?” I said.
“Very brave,” said Paco. “Look.”
He did four more paths, elegant movements as if he was really looking at the imaginary bull.
“And the bull?” I asked after making two sips of wine I was holding.
He was not moving his eyes: his gaze was fixed. For a moment, I really believed that there was a live bull. However, it was not true, only his imagination.
“Still has lots of gaz,” said Paco.
“You make me sick,” I responded.
This boy

Paco determinedly shook his head.
“I wouldn’t be afraid.”
He was very serious in his response as if he deeply believed in what he was saying. If I was afraid when I went in an amateur fight, he must be afraid too; nobody can escape fear, only manage to control it.
“I wouldn’t be afraid,” Paco repeated himself.
I did not see any reason to argue with this boy, so I decided to show him how it could be in real life. I took two knives and bound them to the legs of a chair. I told him that the knives, sharp and dangerous, were the horns of a bull.
“Lend me your apron,” said Paco. “We’ll do it in the dining room.”
Despite my dissuasions, he was decisive and stubborn rather than brave. He wanted to go until the end just to prove to me that he was not afraid of the risk. Excessive self-confidence causes big trouble, but Paco has not realized it yet.
We moved to the dining room. I finished building the artificial bull which looked no less dangerous than a real one. Paco took the perfectly white apron and spread it facing me. I started the gamy by running towards Paco, who in return, swung the apron just ahead of the knife.
“First try, Paco. Not bad, but it is not over yet,” I thought turning and coming