by G. Neri
I think the horse believes him, ’cause he don’t move again. Snapper gets up, though it ain’t pretty. He seem worried for a second until he sees me looking at him.
“What? I can ride. I just don’t like to.”
The horses is getting antsy. I whisper in Boo’s ear. “Okay, Boo, you gotta lead the way. The other horses will follow you.”
He nods his head. Smush acts surprised.
“Maybe he as crazy as you,” Smush says.
I click my tongue and try to steer him out the room. Boo moves slowly into the stall area but stops halfway through. I can hear more shuffling upstairs.
“Come on, Boo. We ain’t got all day —”
Someone drops something heavy upstairs, and suddenly Boo takes off. Not like racing, but a real fast walk, like you do when you know you gonna get caught. Fast enough that I almost fall off. I’m grabbing all around for something to hang on to, but there ain’t nothing. I squeeze my legs and pull back on his mane a little. He neighs and eases up by the front door.
“Quiet, Boo,” I hiss. “Don’t get all spooked on me.”
Someone nudges Boo from behind. Smush’s horse. I turn around, and after Smush, only Snapper and his horse is there. The others didn’t follow! Smush can see what I’m thinking.
“They ain’t dogs — they horses. What’d you expect?”
Suddenly, someone in front of us shouts, “Hey! What’re you doing?”
He don’t sound happy. I whip back around and see some guy carrying a trash can blocking our way. Before I can think of some crazy excuse, Boo takes off right toward the guy! This time, I fall sideways and I fight to hold on, almost kicking that dude in the face as we fly by.
The front gate to freedom that Snapper broke open earlier is barely open now, so Boo turns left and runs along the corral fence instead of going through the gate. I can’t see what’s going on behind me, but Boo stops for a second, long enough for me to try and right myself and see that janitor dude coming our way.
He trying to get in Boo’s way, but Boo ain’t backing off. Behind him, I can see Smush and Snapper busting a move for the front gate. Smush jumps off his horse and opens it all the way and waves me over.
“Stop messing around! We gotta go!” he yells.
I roll my eyes, then kick Boo in the side, which he don’t like too much. He steps toward the dude, who’s clearly not a horse guy. He holds his trash can in front of him like a shield, but Boo just brushes him aside and follows Smush out the front gate.
As we head out into the darkness, I can see the guy running back inside the stone building. Probly gonna call the cops. But I don’t care, ’cause I kept my promise — I freed Boo.
Smush leads the way through the forest, holding a little flashlight in his mouth ’cause he gotta hold on to his horse. Snapper follows but looks like he never rode before, which is probly what I look like too. I think about them other horses we left behind and maybe how we shoulda gone back for ’em. But what’s done is done, and I’m just glad we got Boo. I wrap my arms around Boo’s neck and bounce like crazy as he trots along. He seem happy to be out in the open again.
When we get deep into the trees, Smush eases up. “We got to hang low. Cops’ll be patrolling for some black horse thieves, so it ain’t like they won’t know it’s us. I know a place where we can hide out in the park till dawn. Then maybe it’ll be quiet enough to head out.”
He whips out his phone and says to someone, “Meet us at the Devil’s Pool. And bring food and sleeping bags. Yeah, we going camping! Just do it!”
The horses move along slowly, ’cause it’s dark, and riding without a saddle is near impossible. I start thinkin’ about what Tex said ’bout the Old West, but I don’t suppose this is what the Chisholm Trail was like. It’s pitch-black out, and all kinda weird noises is going on in that darkness. I don’t know how Smush finds his way. I can’t tell which way we headin’ — it all feels the same to me.
When we finally get close to the spot, we have to go super slow ’cause the trail’s all rocky. Smush keeps pointing his light into the pit where the pool is. It’s like it drops into the center of the Earth.
We stop in a little clearing.
“Okay, this is good a place as any,” Smush says, hopping off.
“What about the horses?” I ask. “We can’t just leave ’em be. They might run off into that pit.”
Smush smiles, then holds up a rope he has around his shoulder. “Snagged it on the way out. We can tie ’em up.”
I watch him pull out a knife and start cutting off long pieces. I start thinking about what kinda trouble I got us into. I don’t even want to think about what Harp might do to me. So I try to think about something else instead. Like food. “I’m hungry.”
Smush pats me on the back. “Food’s coming. Don’t expect nothing fancy.”
I look over and see the horses munching on some grass and weeds. “Looks like they ain’t gonna wait for us.”
We sit in the dark. The blackness is starting to weigh down on us, but Smush tries to lighten the mood. “So, I guess you a outlaw now. We should give you a nickname, like the Kid or something.”
Snapper laughs. “How ’bout the Motown Mutt?”
Smush shakes his head. “Nah, we’ll just call him Motor City from now on.”
I don’t like that neither. “I don’t think so.”
Smush snaps his fingers. “I got it. We’ll call you the Train, like Coltrane, get it?”
Train. Yeah, that seem about right. Like everybody gonna hop on board and we gonna go places!
“That’s okay,” I say, playing it down.
Smush grins. “Train it is, then. But you better call your daddy so he don’t think the Train’s derailed.”
He pops open his phone and hits speed dial, then hands it to me.
“What’ll I say?”
“Tell him you having a sleepover with your friends,” cracked Snapper.
I listen to the rings. Harper finally picks up, but he don’t sound too happy.
“Smush, you know where my boy’s at?”
I don’t say nothing.
“Smush?”
“It’s me. Cole.”
There is a long silence on the other end.
“Where are you?” he finally says.
I don’t know what to tell him, so I just start talking.
“I got Boo. And a couple others. The rest stayed —”
He don’t let me finish. “What do you mean, you got Boo? Where the hell are you?”
“We hiding in the park.”
“Fairmount Park? And who’s ‘we’? You and Smush?”
“And Snapper.”
There’s a long pause, and I can almost feel the heat from Harp’s anger coming through the phone. “So, let me get this straight. You and those corner boys gone and stole the horses from some government facility —”
“We were saving ’em! Somebody had to!”
“Yeah? Is that what you’re gonna tell the judge when he sends you off to juvie?”
“Well, at least I did something —”
“Yeah, you became another statistic — that’s what you did. Just like Smush, another black stereotype of a hoodlum —”
“It’s not like that! Smush was doing what I told him to. He was trying to help!”
“Help? How is that going to help? For years, we been working with kids to get them off the streets. But all that’s out the window now, because apparently, we’re just training hoods!”
“But —”
“Once the City gets wind of this, it’ll be over! You hear me!? What kind of son are you?”
I can’t listen no more. “I ain’t your son and you ain’t my daddy, so you can go to hell!” I say, and hang up. I’m breathing hard, staring into the darkness.
Finally Smush speaks up. “I guess he wasn’t too happy about what we done.”
Ya think? I don’t even bother answering him.
Smush and Snapper sit down on a rock and talk in whispers.
I don’t care what they saying.
“Can’t we light a fire or something?” I ask.
Smush says no. It’ll cause too much attention. So we sit in the dark and wait.
After a long time passes, maybe hours, the horses start to get nervous. Then I see some light flickering through the trees.
“Looks like we got company,” says Snapper, and he scrambles up the rocks.
After a minute, he come rushing back. “Must be the mounted police. We gotta go.”
Smush and me scramble up the rock for a look. There’s four of ’em on horses with flashlights.
“Maybe if we keep quiet, they won’t come up this way,” I whisper.
Then I hear, “Coltrane!”
It’s Harper.
He in the lead, and then I recognize Jamaica Bob and Tex behind him.
“How’d they find us?” I ask.
Smush sees the fourth guy. One of his crew. “Sold out by one of my own,” he says. “This ain’t gonna be pretty.”
Harper’s light swings up and finds us. He don’t say nothing.
“Busted,” says Smush.
They come around the bend and stop. Harper’s light shines on us, then checks out the horses. Nobody says nothing. Finally, Tex climbs down.
“Heard you needed supplies,” he says, undoing a coupla bags on his horse. “Got some food, drinks, blankets.”
Harper slowly gets off his horse and passes Smush, who tries to explain. “Uncle Harp, it wasn’t his fault —”
Harp just holds up his hand, saying, “I’ll talk with you later.”
Then he comes up to me, grabs my arm. “Come with me.”
I don’t really have a choice, do I?
We walk over to the edge of the pit. I look down into the darkness, thinking he gonna throw me in. He stands there, breathing slowly, not saying nothing. Finally, I can’t take it no more.
“It was all my idea. I’m the one who talked Smush into helping. So if you gonna do it, do it now.”
He looks confused, then sees me looking into the pit.
“I’m not gonna throw you in, Coltrane, even though I should.”
He sits down on the edge, tosses a rock down into the pit. I hear a splash not too far down.
He sighs. “I been trying to figure out why this life is so hard,” he says. “Why they out to get us? Is it because we’re cowboys? Or is it just because we’re black?”
I know what he’s saying. I feel like we the Pistons from way back when. They was always the underdogs, always counted out. No one liked ’em because they didn’t play by the rules. But they kept fighting, no matter what, until they became champs. “Maybe it’s ’cause they don’t like anyone that’s different. Anyone they can’t understand or control is bad news to them.”
He looks at me and nods.
I sit down next to him. “You mad at me for getting them horses out?”
“Yeah, but not for the reason you think,” he says. “My whole life has been about them horses. It’s why your mama left, ’cause I was too stubborn to change or give ’em up. I know I cared more about them than her at the time.” He looks back at the horses, chewing on grass. “Then you came along, and I guess it seemed like too much. I couldn’t handle it. I kind of disappeared for a while. Took my horse up onto the Appalachian Trail and just headed north. By the time I got my head straight and made it back home, you and her was gone.”
We sit there, listening to the wind blowing through the trees. Harper is silent for a long time.
“You coming back here made me realize how much I hate losing something that I care about.” He clears his throat. “Even if things were finished between me and your mama, I shoulda been there for you.” He puts his hand on my knee. “I know you ain’t no gangbanging fool. And I know you didn’t drive your mama away. I’m sorry I said that before.”
I don’t know what to say to that, but it feels good to hear.
“I need to do better. I will do better,” he says. “Starting with us figuring out how to get out of this mess. But we’ll do it together — you and me, okay?”
Together. Suddenly, my posse just got bigger.
He elbows me in the side, all playful. “At least you was trying to get those horses back, even if it was a boneheaded idea.” He stands up and stares into the pit. And then he asks, “So what other ideas you got in that head of yours?”
I think of how they done things in the Old West. Poor folks fighting off land barons and all a that stuff.
“If we let them bulldoze the Ritz, there might not be no more cowboys left in North Philly after that,” I say. “It’ll give ’em an excuse to say the last stables in the ’hood is just as bad, and they’ll close them down too.”
“So where does that leave us?” he asks, like he can’t think no more.
From the movies I seen, I know one thing: Clint Eastwood wouldn’ta given up in a land war. “We gotta find a way to get some attention, so people can hear our side of the story, not just what the news been showing. City thinks they can shut us down and nobody’ll care. But if we can get the people of Philly on our side . . .”
And suddenly, I can see it. A whole lot of people standing in the way of those bulldozers, the cowboys out in front, representin’. “What if we did some kind of blockade thing, with horses and everything? You know, show ’em what we stand for?”
He shrugs. “Might get us arrested.”
I nod. “Yeah, but don’t you think that would get us on TV?”
He smiles and then starts to laugh. “Looks like you a cowboy after all.”
We head back to the others. Tex and Jamaica Bob have put ropes and blankets on the horses to make it easier to ride.
“So, what’s the verdict?” asks Tex.
Harper puts his hand on my shoulder. “Boy says we should fight back. Says we got to stand up for what we believe in. And I tend to agree with him. Moving our horses somewhere else is what they want, but fighting to keep these stables open, that’s the right thing to do. It’s the cowboy thing to do.”
Tex lets out a cheer. “Hot damn! I’m ready to fight!”
Smush holds him back. “Take it easy, old man. You gonna give yourself a heart attack!”
I explain my idea to them, how we gonna get every last horseman from any stables left in North Philly to stand in front of them bulldozers. Smush looks uneasy about maybe getting arrested, but then he says, “You can’t stop a moving train!”
He and Jamaica Bob and Harper all get on their cell phones and start making calls. They up for hours, eating, making calls, getting organized. I try to grab a few Z’s. By the time they finish, the sky is starting to get light again.
Harper stands. “We should go, boys. We got to be in place by eight a.m., when the City shows up.”
Bob and Tex offer to ride the horses with no saddles. Smush and Snapper get on horses with saddles, but nobody’s gonna ride Boo but me. Harp understands.
We head out just as the sun’s coming up over the park. We higher up, so it seem like you can see forever, trees and grass, and behind that the city loomin’ up like a giant, waiting for us.
The streets is quiet. It feels like the world is still asleep, but as we get closer, I start hearing a noise. It sounds like something big and alive and grows louder and louder until suddenly I recognize what it sounds like — a big ol’ crowd of people.
We round the corner to Chester Avenue, and I see something I never seen before. There must be seventy or eighty cowboys on horses milling about. Old heads and a bunch of young kids too. Even some white folks is there.
Harper sees my eyes go wide and winks at me. “That would be the cavalry.”
Tex laughs. “Can you imagine the look on the City fellas’ faces when they see this?” He slaps his leg. “If they expect us to just roll over, they got another thing coming!”
The others all spot us and start whistling and making cowboy hoots and hollers, slapping us on the back. Even Carmelo and Big Dee is there, treating us like kings, passing
us our saddles and stuff.
Big Dee says, “Brothers, this is one showdown we ain’t missing!”
Harper moves to the middle of everyone, but there’s so many people, you can’t really see him no more. Then suddenly, he standing above everyone, and I realize he standing up on Lightning’s back!
He holds up his hands till everyone hushes. “You all know me as someone who don’t back down from a fight.” There’s a lot of nodding and Say it, brother! going around. “But I was taken off guard this week and forgot what we’re all about.”
He searches for me until our eyes connect. “We may look like we’re in the ghetto. But we’re all working people, doing what we can to survive. We got our ways, and we got our traditions. Here on Chester Avenue, that means horses.”
The guys are saying, That’s right, petting their rides. “Now, most people on the outside may not understand our ways. They see these neighborhoods and think it’s no place for animals. They think it’s okay for us to live here, but poor folks can’t have horses! They’re used to horse owners with money, living the country life. But horses is like people: some come from money; some come from nothing. For these horses, the only thing between them and a can of dog food was us. They’re the unwanted, just like us.”
“Speak for yourself,” says Big Dee. “I’m a stud!”
Harper smiles but keeps going. “The City acts like they care about the animals, but they don’t. They just after the land. And they’ll do anything to get it. Including dividing us by making us look like we the bad guys.”
I see more neighborhood people on foot gathering around us. Harper’s eyes is shining bright now. “These kind folks out here know better. Our neighbors have put up with us through the years because they understood the value of what we’re doing. Not that it’s always been perfect — far from it. But we trying. We pour our hearts and souls into this way of life.” He sighs, probly thinkin’ about everything he put into the cause. “Now, I’ve been called many things in my life: an urban rider, a horseman, a pain in the butt.” That gets some laughs. “But deep down, even if we don’t all look like Tex here, we cowboys. We are cowboys!”