by G. Neri
When we get back in his house, Harper locks it up good and tight. As soon as the sun sets, I can hear the streets coming to life again. The booming bass of a car passing by rattles the walls. I feel all jumpy and Lightning acts nervous too, but Harper calms him down.
Now that I got nothing to do, my mind starts thinking again, remembering what’s up. “When you gonna call Mama?” I ask.
He stops petting Lightning. “I get to it later.”
That won’t do. I know she home by now. “You better call her. I can take a bus back or something.”
He stands there a moment, not saying nothing.
So I keep talking. “I know she over it by now. Probly feels all lonely in our apartment, wondering what the heck she did and —”
“She ain’t coming back, Coltrane.”
I ignore him. “She be sitting all by herself, eating some frozen dinner, thinking she’ll come get me tomorrow. . . .”
“There ain’t gonna be no tomorrow. She’s not coming.”
I look at him good. “How you know that if you ain’t called her yet?”
For the first time, he don’t look so tough. I can see him struggling to figure out what to say.
“What?” I ask.
“Your mama called me a couple hours ago.”
A car comes booming up the road, setting the windows a-shaking. Harp come right up to me. “She called me, saying she had a long time to think about it and how even though she don’t care for me any, she knows this is a better place for you. She’s got other things to deal with right now.”
This is like a bomb going off in my head. How long she gonna play this game? “Nah . . . she just saying that to mess with you. She be back.”
“Coltrane, I know this woman. When she makes up her mind, it’s done.”
“I know her too. I know she loves me and would never give me up for good. She would never —”
“Coltrane!” he yells.
I jump back.
He grinds his teeth. “I waited for years for her to come back, but it never happened. She’s a strong-headed woman, and she means what she says.”
My mind is racing. I don’t wanna hear him talk no more. “She didn’t come back ’cause she don’t love you. Whatever you done to her isn’t like what’s going on between me and her.”
“Yeah? Well, what is going on between you and her? What kind of kid drives his mama to the point where she can’t deal with you no more? You on drugs? In a gang? Do you hit her? What?” He towering over me now, but I don’t care. He can’t hurt me.
I push him away. “I ain’t do nothing to her!”
Suddenly I’m out in the street, the door banging behind me. All I can think of is, I’m outta here! I don’t need him! I just need to get back home.
I start running. I hear him call out, “Coltrane!” but I keep moving. I don’t even look back.
I turn the corner. The street is dark. I take a few steps and realize I got no idea where I am. I look each way, but it all looks the same.
When I was small, Mama told me if I ever got lost to just close my eyes and listen and I would hear her calling. But I ain’t looking for her now. I’m looking for a main street. I close my eyes. What I hear is . . . music . . . yelling . . . a helicopter . . . but then I hear it — traffic.
I open my eyes, and it seem brighter down the way I’m looking, like maybe there’s a big street down there. So I take off running.
A car passes me then slows up ahead, its red taillights feeling like some kinda warning. I think about what Smush said earlier about this neighborhood, and I turn at the corner, ’cause right now I don’t wanna talk to no ’bangers.
I see people on their stoops, staring at me, but I keep my head down and keep moving. A few blocks later, I see a big street ahead. When I hit the corner, I smell something that reminds me of home — the Golden Arches.
I’m thinking I ain’t eaten nothing since that old guy fed me. I feel in my pocket and my hand touches that twenty-dollar bill. I need fuel so I can get my head straight.
I stuff my face on the dollar menu — three double cheeseburgers, a apple pie, a Coke. I pound that stuff down, and I start to realize I only got fourteen dollars left.
How’m I gonna get back to Detroit on that?
Take a bus? That’s gotta cost at least a hundred.
Hitchhike? Who gonna pick up a punk like me?
Walk? That’d take me a month.
Unless I can get my hands on the rest of that money Harper got, I’ll be stuck here for good. Why didn’t I just grab it when the grabbin’ was good?
I sit in that McDonald’s for a coupla hours. Every time the manager starts looking at me, I get something else to eat. I know I can’t stay here all night, but where I’m gonna go? I don’t wanna go back to Harper’s. I know he don’t want me, just like Mama don’t want me, and this manager chump ain’t no different.
Maybe I could find my cousin Smush, but I got no idea where he lives. No, I got to find a place to lay low. Then in the morning, when Harper leaves the house, I can snag the rest of the money Mama left behind.
I hop a fence and I’m in the back area by the stables, the only place I can think of where nobody will be at tonight. But then I see a light on in the clubhouse.
I sneak up to the window, which is so clouded with dirt, I don’t think it’s ever been washed. I peek inside and see Tex, all by himself on a cot watching a little TV set. I wonder if he lives here or if he just like a night guard or something. I think maybe Harper’ll end up like this too, all alone with them horses.
I sneak over to the Ritz-Carlton and open the door a crack. It’s a full moon, so it lights up enough for me to see. I hear the horses shuffle a little. Then I see the horse I petted today. He perks up, looking at me like he was all lonely before I walked in. He leans forward, expecting me to feed him too. I pull out the apple pie I got in my pocket. I was gonna save it for later, but what the heck. He takes it, chomps it down in one bite. So much for dessert.
This seem as good a place as any to hole up in till morning. There’s a few things of hay around, so I arrange it like a bed across from the stalls and throw a horse blanket over it. If nobody wants me, I’ll sleep with the horses. Least they appreciate me.
But sleeping in a barn ain’t like sleeping in your bed. There’s lots of noise going on all around you, and the horses sometime get skittish. They all looking at me, like, Why’s he here?
Why not? I think. Can’t be any worse than sleeping in a closet.
But it still takes me a long time to fall asleep.
Something brushes by me, and my eye opens. The sun is up, but I can barely move, my body’s so stiff. I look down, and somebody left me a pack of Pop-Tarts and a orange juice.
“Breakfast of champions.”
I look up and see Tex standing there. “What time is it?”
“’Bout seven thirty,” he answers. “I hope you aren’t gonna make a habit of sleeping here. Your daddy called looking for you, and I told him I saw you come in last night. Told him maybe you thought this really was the Ritz-Carlton.”
Funny. For a old blind guy, he got eyes in the back of his head. “Sorry,” I say, but I don’t really feel like explaining nothing.
“Well, eat up. Harp’s gonna be here in a few, then you’ll get your first peek at the Speedway. Saturday’s race day.”
I tell him I ain’t interested in racing. Never seen a race and don’t care to. He just laughs.
Tex wanders over to my horse friend and opens up his stall. I grab the OJ and Pop-Tarts, thinking he gonna start bucking.
The old man chuckles. “He’s okay. I think he’s taking a liking to you. Go over there and call him.”
I think the old man is joking, but he ain’t. I walk over by the door, but I don’t know what to say. The dog thing seem stupid now.
“Just call his name,” Tex says.
“What’s his name?” I ask.
Tex scratches his chin. “Hmm, I guess we haven’t come up
with one yet. Tell you what — why don’t you name him?”
I look around. “Who, me?”
“Why not? You both strays. Who better?”
The horse stands there looking at me, his hair sticking up all over the place, like he just woke up too, but his eyes is wide open. For some reason, I think of Boo, ’cause he looks like someone just scared him.
“What about Boo?” I say, and the old man gives him the once-over.
“Looks like someone just gave him a good fright, don’t it?” He smiles. “Let’s give it a try. Call him over.”
I take a few steps back. “Here, Boo. Come here, boy. . . .”
The horse tilts his head.
The old man reaches into his jacket and pulls out a carrot. “Try this.”
He tosses it to me, and I hold it out.
“Here, Boo.”
Boo takes a step and then another. Next thing I know, he right in front of me, munching on that thing. Just like a dog.
“Well, ain’t that a picture.”
I turn around, and Harper’s sitting on top of Lightning, shaking his head. “Maybe you got horse blood in you after all.”
I don’t know if Harper’s joking or if he serious, but I ain’t in no mood to ask. I drop the carrot, walk back to my hay bed, and sit down. “Horse blood? Don’t you remember? I’m the drug-dealin’ gangbanger who hits his mom.”
He watches me closely but don’t dish nothing back. “Maybe you want to come with me to the Speedway. Might be better than sitting around in an old barn.”
I wouldn’t mind getting out of this stinky place. But I don’t gotta be happy about it. “Whatever.”
He reaches into a saddlebag and pulls something out. “Then you better wear these.”
A pair of cowboy boots plop on the ground next to my feet. I give him a look.
“You think I’m gonna wear those?”
The old man picks them up and whistles. “Ain’t these the boots I gave you when you was a little punk who showed up here acting all street?” He turns to me. “He didn’t wear them either. But it’s better getting these boots dirty than your white sneakers. See?” He holds up the boots and slides his fingers along the smooth bottom. “Crap just slides off, not like what’s sticking in the nooks and crannies of your shoes.”
I look at the bottom of my Nikes and see they ain’t never gonna get clean again. He holds out the boots, but I ain’t wearing them.
Tex shrugs. “Too bad. I wish I had a pair this nice.”
Harper hops off of Lightning and ties him to a post. “Tex, help Coltrane get that horse saddled up. He’s going riding today.”
Tex shakes his head. “You do it. Least you can do is teach your own boy.”
Harper scowls. “I don’t think this boy wants to hear what I got to say.”
But Tex is gone out the back way.
Harper smirks. “Look, you want to stay here at the Ritz, fine. But you might as well learn a thing or two about horses while you’re living with ’em, all right?”
I don’t say nothing, just stand there. He claps his hands, like I just agreed with him. “All right! First we gonna need that blanket you slept on last night.”
I get up. “You can have the blanket. But I ain’t gettin’ up on Boo.”
“Boo?” he says. “Who named him Boo?”
I look around for Tex. “I guess I did.”
He thinks about it, nods. “You named him; you ride him.”
“Uh, I don’t know if you noticed, but I ain’t no cowboy.”
But he just ignores me. Grabs a saddle off of a barrel. Then stands by the horse, waiting. “Come on, throw that blanket up here.”
I think about just walking away. Then he starts laughing. At me.
“What, you aren’t afraid, are you?”
I grab the blanket. “I’m from Detroit. I ain’t afraid of nobody. People ’fraid of me.”
The horse takes a dump right in front of us, and Harper laughs again.
“I guess that’s why you called him Boo. You done scared that right out of him!”
I shake my head and throw the blanket up over Boo.
“Yeah, maybe I did, old man.”
He tosses the saddle up on Boo’s back, straightens everything out. “Look, I don’t expect you to call me Daddy. But an old man I ain’t. I’m thirty-seven.”
He reaches under and grabs the strap from the other side of the saddle. He grunts.
Like I said — old man, I think.
He buckles it together and makes sure it’s tight but not too tight. “That all right for you, Boo?” he asks.
Boo don’t seem to mind.
“Hand me them stirrup straps.”
I look around and see some things that look about right. He takes them and attaches ’em to the saddle.
“This is where you put your feet.”
I shrug, like, Why you telling me that? I still ain’t going up there.
He grabs some rope-and-steel thing off the wall and walks up to Boo’s face. “Smile, Boo!”
He puts the steel up to Boo’s mouth, and he opens. Boo chomps on it a bit, like he ain’t had one in his mouth for a while.
Harper pats him on the neck. “He don’t mind. He’s used one his whole life, I bet.”
Harp strings the rope back to the saddle, double-checks all the straps, and then nods. “That’ll do, Boo.” He turns and looks at me. “Ready, Freddy?”
He must think I look worried or something.
“It’s no sweat, man,” he says. “I take little kids for rides all the time. You ain’t a little kid, are you?”
I push him out the way. “What you think?”
He shakes his head. “More like a punk if you ask me.”
I grab the knob on top of the saddle and start to climb, but Boo starts moving around.
“Sit, Boo!” I yell.
Harper starts laughing his head off, then apologizes when I glare at him.
“Sorry, man. It’s just . . .” He grabs the rope and steadies Boo, then points. “See that? Your foot goes in there, then you grab here, then you swing yourself up.”
“I know what to do,” I say, knowing I don’t.
He sees me struggling to get my foot high enough into that thing. “Maybe you be better off on a pony,” he says.
“I can do it,” I say. I bring my foot waaay up and use my other hand to get it in there, then I reach way over to grab the saddle. It takes me two or three tries before I can climb up, but when I do . . . whoa.
My head is suddenly up near the cobwebs. I ain’t never been this high before. And I definitely ain’t never been on the back of a living thing like this.
“You okay up there?”
I nod.
“Just relax. Breathe,” he says. “Don’t hold on to the saddle so tight. Use this.” He hands me the rope. Then he guides Boo slowly out into the open.
I gotta duck my head, but when we get outside, it’s a whole different view from up here. It’s like I’m ten feet tall all of a sudden. With each step, Boo’s body swings back and forth and I think he just gonna fall over and that will be that. I think about the horse Mama hit and think if Boo falls on me, I’ll be a goner.
Harper swings up on Lightning and moves over next to Boo. “We just going to take it slow, maybe go a few times around the corral, then head out.”
It feels like I’m sitting on one of them giant walking machines in Star Wars.
“Just pretend you’re part of the horse. Be like Jell-O — swing your hips the way he walks, but keep the top half of you straight. Don’t worry — I won’t let you fall.”
I don’t say nothing. We go around the corral a couple a times, nice and easy, but just as I feel like this is all right, a plastic bag blows in front of us and Boo freaks out and bolts.
I grab on to the saddle, and he start running around in circles, almost squishing my leg against the fence. I’m bouncing up and down, barely holding on, the saddle hitting my butt. I’m thinking of jumping — but suddenl
y Harper’s right there, riding alongside. He grabs the reins and slows Boo up till we come to a standstill.
My heart is beating a million miles a hour.
“You okay?” he asks.
I’m still alive, so I nod. “I’m done,” I say, looking for a way down.
“Hold up there, Coltrane. You’re okay. Just had a little excitement is all. For some reason, plastic bags unnerve the horses when they first get here. That’s just one of those city things they never seen before. But when we head out, I’m going to tie a leash to Boo and that won’t happen again. Promise.”
Before I can change my mind, he ties a long rope to Boo’s saddle and holds the other end, like he’s gonna take us out for a walk. Tex comes out with a white cowboy hat. “Don’t forget your lucky hat.”
Harp smiles and puts it on. I give him a look, but he just tips his hat, all cool. “Gotta represent,” he says.
When Lightning starts to amble out, Boo follows. “Nice and slow. You’ll see,” Harp says. We start heading to the street as a car zooms by.
“We going out there?” I say.
What is he thinking? I seen what happened the last time a horse was in the street.
“It’s cool,” he says. “We just gonna take a little neighborhood tour on the way to the Speedway. I’ll take the quiet streets.”
Next thing I know, we out in the streets. The horse hoofs is making a loud clip-clop noise on the brick road. Boo catches his hoof a coupla times on a brick, but he don’t trip. I keep my eyes out for any runaway plastic bags.
Jamaica Bob comes out of one of the houses and gives a holler. “There they are: the champion and the protégé. You going to let him race today?”
Harper laughs. “Who, Lightning or Coltrane?”
Bob rubs his hands together. “Well, I know Lightning is running. Big Dee’s in the hunt today.”
Harp shakes his head. “The only thing Big Dee is hunting is his next Big Mac. So maybe I’ll give Coltrane a shot.”
“Uh, I don’t think so,” I say.
Bob waves as he gets into his truck. “Yeah, well, as long as Harp races first. I’m planning to double my money today so I can pay that feed bill. Don’t let me down!”