by G. Neri
A cheer goes up from everyone, and while they making noise, Harp yells, “And cowboys stick together and defend their turf!”
Everybody stomping and clapping, and the kids is blowin’ whistles and making a lotta noise. It’s like the ground is shaking underneath us. Then I realize the ground is shaking underneath us!
Everyone hushes up, and we hear a rumbling sound coming from around the corner. Harper sits back down on the horse and makes his way to the front, next to me. We watch and wait.
“You scared, son?” he whispers.
I can’t answer him ’cause my jaw seem like it’s locked tight.
“Me too,” he says. “But whatever happens, we do it together, okay?”
I nod.
A bulldozer comes around the corner, followed by a coupla big dump trucks and a few black cars. You can see the look of disbelief on the drivers’ faces when they see us. Maybe we got the same look on ours. They all shaking their heads, like, This is not what we needed.
We block the entrance to the stables, and the bulldozer stops about twenty feet in front of us. The driver sits there, smoking his cigarette. I can see him thinking if he should just plow on through, but he don’t make a move.
Finally, I see the fat dude in the suit from before come running up, looking all mad.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Harper don’t bat an eye. “Protecting our neighborhood.”
I pipe in, “We cowboys!”
The suit looks at us like we crazy.
Harper stares him down good. “We decided you can’t destroy our way of life. Y’all never cared about this neighborhood, but these people here made something good for the community — from nothing but a bunch of empty, neglected lots. And we want it to stay that way.”
The suit grinds his teeth. I can see him counting the crowd, trying to figure his next move. “So, what are your intentions?” he says.
Harper nods to me. “Tell him, Train.” I look at him, and he winks. He musta heard my nickname from Smush.
I clear my throat. “We gonna stand here however long it takes for you to back down,” I say, and I mean it. “We ain’t going nowhere.”
Harper smiles. “My son.”
The guy’s eyes look like they gonna bust outta his head. He reaches into his pocket and whips out a piece of paper. “I have an order from the City of Philadelphia, authorizing us to tear down this illegal stable!”
Tex makes his way up to the front. “It’s our right to be here. This is our home. So we ain’t leaving and that’s that. The people have spoken, so you and that piece of paper best be on your way, ya hear?”
All the riders start cheering and whistling.The horses stomp their hoofs like they ready to stampede. I can see the suit is losin’ his nerve. He starts backing up.
“I can have all of you arrested, you know!”
“Maybe,” Smush jumps in. “But we still won’t leave.”
The suit turns and storms back to his car. I can see him talking on his cell phone. Some of our guys get out their phones too, videotaping everything and talking about posting it online to get some attention.
We at a standstill for a good hour. The waiting starts to get boring, but nobody moves. Then a coupla cop cars show up.
The guy in the suit starts getting all excited again, pointing at us and stuff. The cops look like they have better things to do than mess with us. After a minute, one of the cops comes up to us.
It’s Harper’s friend Leroy.
Harper shakes his head. “So this is what the City of Brotherly Love has come to. . . . They send you to come in and divide us?”
Leroy don’t look happy. “I’m here because I want to keep this from getting out of hand. Now, I don’t suppose you fellas got a permit to protest?”
We all look at each other, but Harper just shakes his head and says, “The real question you should be asking is, are you gonna be with us or with them?”
Leroy sighs and looks at everyone. “Harp, you know I support all of you. But this is my job. I will do whatever I can to fix this situation, but I can’t break the law, can I?”
Harper sucks on his teeth, thinking. “It’s our right to protect our land, or am I missing something?”
Leroy grumbles. “Look, Harp. It’s outta my hands. This ain’t the Wild West, okay? This is North Philly. And that there is city property according to the records. I’m sorry, but the City wants to reclaim its land.”
Harper yells back. “After what? Neglecting it for a hundred years? After letting us rot down here all this time, suddenly now they take an interest? Because now they can make money on us? You know what’s going down, man!”
“I know, Harp.” Leroy kicks at the ground. “I know all too well. Been through it when they closed my stable down. I’m just asking you to work with me here, okay?”
Harper eases up. “Sorry.” He takes out a piece of paper. “This here says that we got a right to unclaimed land after twenty-one years of habitation and taking care of it. We been using this property since 1951, and that means we have legal claim on it now. It’s called squatters’ rights.”
Leroy glances at it. “This is from the Internet.”
Harper takes the paper back. “It says we got the legal precedent! That means it’s been done before.”
Leroy sighs. “Look, that still don’t mean you can block the street —”
“We’re not moving!” someone shouts.
I turn and see Jamaica Bob staring at something past Leroy. “Look!” he says.
I see a white van coming down the street with a Action News sign on the side. Bob grins. “We gonna be on TV!”
Leroy sees the TV crew get out and start filming. “Great,” he mutters, turning back to us. “Look, I’ll hold off my guys as long as I can, but I can’t promise anything. You guys do what you need to, but don’t give them any excuses to —” He stops when the TV crew is in hearing range.
Harper whispers: “To what, arrest us? Now, there’s an idea. That would look good on the news tonight. I’m sure the City would love to see the cops on TV harassing honest folks and kids as they express their right to assemble and protect their livelihood.”
Leroy grumbles. “You may be my friend, but deep down, you are one twisted —”
A TV newswoman interrupts him. “Are you going to arrest these cowboys, Officer?”
Leroy smiles for the camera but keeps his eyes on Harper. “Yeah, that one, for being ugly. No more comments.”
Leroy walks back to his car and gets on the radio. The TV woman sees me and holds out a microphone. “Young man, why are you here today?”
I gape at the microphone. Then I hear Smush say, “Tell her, Train! It’s time people heard our side!”
I take a deep breath. “It’s the Cowboy Way . . . to stand up for yourself when everything is against you.”
“And who’s against you? The City?” she asks.
“Yeah. See, these guys put everything they got into the stables, and they do it for free. They don’t ask anyone for money, and they really helping the neighborhood way more than what the City does, which is nothin’.”
Harp nods and jumps in. “Look, we make do with what we got, but we have enough to feed the horses and keep ’em happy. We’ve saved horses from the slaughterhouses, and more importantly, helped kids by giving them something else to do besides gangbangin’, you know, teaching them to be responsible for another living being, instead of ending someone else’s life.”
Bob gets in on the action. “But the City don’t care that this tradition has been going on for decades! Instead of celebrating something unique in this city, they just want us out of here so they can build a buncha new houses that we can’t afford to live in!”
She nods and turns back to me. “So do you feel the City isn’t giving you a fair shake?”
I think hard before answering. “To me, it feels like these City dudes waited till it stormed and the stables was full of mud and the place looked bad and r
un-down before they swooped in with their cameras. But there was nothing wrong with the horses they took. I mean, look at Boo! He look all right, don’t he?”
When Boo hears his name, I swear he stares right into the camera like he a movie star or something. The reporter pets him on the neck and smiles. “Looks like Boo is ready for his close-up!”
They stop filming, but just as they about to move on to another shot, a big black police bus screeches to a halt behind the bulldozers. The suit leads a group of cops out, and suddenly it feels like things is gonna get ugly.
“Stand tall, fellas! Looks like they plan to haul us out of here!” yells Tex.
A lot of the guys stand up on their saddles, like Harper done. Even Smush does it. I know I’d fall off if I stood up, so I try to look as tall as I can instead.
Leroy comes back, shaking his head at the sight of the guys towering over him. “You’re not making my life any easier, guys. On top of everything else, I have a report here that some horses were stolen from the Fairmount stables last night.”
Boo shuffles, like he understood. I pat his neck. He getting nervous, like he thinks Leroy is gonna take him back.
“You can’t steal what’s yours!” someone in the back shouts. Snapper.
“A janitor said it was a bunch of teenagers.” Leroy stares right at me. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, son?”
I look away, like I didn’t hear him. I can feel the sweat rolling down my neck. His eyes is still on me, and I feel like I gotta say something or it’ll look like the guys is a bunch of thieves. I start to open my mouth —
“It was me. I did it,” Smush says.
I give him a sideways glance, like, Whatchou doing?
“I was there too. I did it.”
I whip around and see Tex with his hand raised.
Then Jamaica Bob pipes up. “Me too. I was there.”
Suddenly everyone, even the kids, is saying, It was me. I did it, until I say it too.
Leroy looks at the TV crew who’s filming it all, then back at us. I think he knows it was me.
“You like that horse, son?” he asks.
I nod. “He’s my horse. Sir.”
He sighs, scratches his neck, then says loud enough for the suit and the cameras to hear, “Well, as it turns out, I made a call to the vet who checked out those horses that were taken from the stables yesterday. He said that, contrary to what was originally suspected, the horses were not malnourished and that they were actually in pretty good shape.”
The guys get all quiet, then Leroy actually smiles a tiny bit. “So . . . all charges of animal endangerment have been dropped, and the City has agreed to return the rest of your horses.”
A cheer goes up as the guys wave their hats. The suit throws a fit and starts yelling at the other cops, who just shrug.
“But —” Leroy holds up his hand.
“Here we go,” says Tex.
“That still doesn’t solve your two biggest problems: building-code violations and land rights. Now, I’ve made some phone calls, and in light of everything, you have been granted one week to upgrade your facilities to code. Do that, and they can’t use it as an excuse to tear down the stables. As for who has the rights to that land, that’ll be up to the courts to decide. That’s the best I can do.”
I look over at the stables and think, One week? Maybe one month or even a year. That place needs some serious work.
“We’ll take what we can get,” Harper says, shaking Leroy’s hand. “Thanks, man.”
Harper soaks in the scene. I can see him lookin’ at the newspeople and all the crowds gathered around. Then he gets a look in his eyes. I can almost see the wheels in his head startin’ to turn. He grins for the cameras.
“Philadelphia! Last year when they shut down the Bunker stables, the crime rate rose in that area because the teens had nothing to do but get in trouble. Support your local culture and help the kids by giving them something healthy to do with their time! Horses, not crime! Come lend a hand and help keep North Philly safe and special!”
The suit’s not happy watching all this go down. “I’ll be back in one week, and believe me, we’ll have that bulldozer ready.”
I give him the evil eye. “You do what you gotta do, mister. We’ll be here.”
Jamaica Bob shouts out, “Say it, brother Train!”
When I look around, I can see the crowd is twice as large now. I guess word got out around the neighborhood, and folks showed up. They come up to Harper, saying they’ll do whatever they can to help. Some people is carpenters, some electricians, some handymen; some is just kids who don’t know nothing. But a body is a body that can help out somehow.
When everyone leaves and things calm down, suddenly the situation don’t look so rosy. There’s a lot of work ahead. Harper gets all serious, then starts writing out a week’s worth of work on a pad of paper, with a list just for me. It’s a crazy-long list, but he says I should consider it community service for going behind his back and taking the horses.
I can’t argue with that.
That week, I work harder than my whole life put together. My entire body hurts. My arms. My legs. My back. But I keep going ’cause everybody else does too.
Harper shows me how to build stuff, how to hammer and saw and measure stuff right. I help them repair the roof, but this time, I stay on the ground. There’s always ten things going on at once. But nobody complains. Even people who have nothing to do with riding show up carting spare wood, roofing stuff, equipment.
Leroy even shows up to help give that poor dead horse a proper burial. We all stop working when he hauls it away in a big oversize truck. I try not to think how it got here, with the accident an’ all. That just makes me think of Mama, and then I feel bad for hanging up on her.
I do think about calling her back sometimes, but it’s been way too crazy this week. Seems like we up at dawn and asleep as soon as we walk back in the house. Maybe when things quiet down some, I’ll figure out what to say to her.
In between building and fixing stuff, the guys make me take care of the horses and show me a thing or two. Like how to brush ’em proper-like, how to put the saddle on, how to clean out their hoofs, stuff like that. Even that kid CJ and a few of his friends show up wanting to help. Everyone is so busy, I put them to work myself, doing some of the grooming and feeding, stuff I learned. They seem like they excited just to be doing it, and I said if they did a good job, they could start riding too. Harp saw me teaching them and put me in charge of finding them stuff to keep ’em busy. I like that.
A lot of the older kids and me go for rides with the guys around the neighborhood after a hard day’s work. Boo seem to trust me pretty good now. He even gallops a bit, and Harper shows me a few racing tricks, saying I’ll be good to go at the Speedway soon if I keep it up.
Luckily, the rain stays away and the sun dries out everything pretty good. Soon, most things is looking better. Some gardening guy saw us on the news and said he’d help us get rid of that big ol’ pile of crap by giving it to some urban-gardening projects all around the city. Said that stuff really makes vegetables grow great, which probly explains why I hate vegetables. It took him and us like a whole day to get the job done, but in the end, the lot looked pretty good. After that, we even heard a rumor that ’cause a the news, the City was gonna start picking this stuff up again. That would make my life a lot easier.
The Ritz-Carlton’s looking more solid — not new but better, with a roof that looks like it’ll hold up during the next storm. We also built some outside structures for the horses to stand under during a rain or to keep the sun off. Some of the neighbors even started talking about making a garden project of their own on one of the vacant lots. So things is looking up.
But money is tighter than ever and even after all that, the guys seem to have doubts that the stables will be around for long. A few say we’d won the battle, but the City will win the war sooner or later.
Some of the horses leave when gu
ys find other stables outside the city. Harper don’t stop ’em. He understands. He calls one of the reporters and says we need a lawyer to help represent ourselves in court so we can keep the land. There’s a few leads, but not much.
When the week’s up, Harper seem real nervous. We’d spent the day before the inspection really cleaning up the horses and making sure they looked healthy and nice. I even brushed Boo’s teeth.
We hear the news guys ain’t coming back to do a follow-up, and most the guys ain’t surprised ’cause doing the right thing for the neighborhood ain’t sexy or violent enough to make the news. But one of the kids who’s helping out said he gonna video the whole inspection in case anything fishy goes down. The inspectors show up, but the dude in the suit ain’t there. The inspectors go on a tour with Harper, who explains all the work we done and how the whole neighborhood pulled together.
After a hour, they leave, but it takes a whole other week before we hear back. Harper gets a letter at the stables one day. Everyone gathers around. He don’t look too happy.
But then he grins and says we passed!
We about to all jump up and down, when he adds that we’ve won only half the battle. “There’s still the question of who has the rights to this land. We’ve taken a step in the right direction, and”— Harper looks at all of us proudly —“we’re not going to give up now. We’ll find a way to call this land our own. Even if we gotta buy it from the City to make it proper in everyone’s eyes.”
“Where we gonna get that kinda cash?” asks Tex.
Harp smiles and shrugs. “Haven’t you seen the price of real estate around here? They should give us a rock-bottom price just to shut us up!”
Maybe. But still, it can’t be that cheap. I start thinking of things we can do to raise money. I seen how good he is with the kids in the neighborhood. Maybe the schools would pay him to get the kids working with horses. Maybe Tex could show off some of his rodeo skills. You never know. . . .