summer there. So what do you wanna do, genius?”
I look around. There’s one gate into the main corral area with the outdoor stalls. The stalls don’t seem to have any locks or nothing. Seem pretty simple to me. “We wait until it gets dark, then we go in.”
Smush pulls me back down. “Okay. Saying we get the horses, then what?”
I look at him. “Then we ride.”
“Ride where?”
I tell him what the guys said about the Federation of Black Cowboys.
“Brooklyn? Now I know you crazy. That’s like two hours away by car! What, you just gonna ride all them horses on the expressway? Cuz, you lost your head.”
“What’s the difference between Harp and them riding in the streets and this?” I ask.
“About a hundred miles,” he says.
I shake him off. “Look, let’s just get ’em outta here, then we’ll figure it out. Harper says this park is so big you can get lost in it. So we’ll get lost, hide out, and figure our next move. We can camp in these woods here, like we on the run.”
“Not
like.
We
will
be on the run.” He stares at the cop through the fence. “I don’t know, cuz. I’m already on probation. If I get caught . . .”
I give him a little push. “Like I said, if you can’t man up —”
He pulls his fist back like he gonna pop me, then smiles when he sees I’m playin’ him.
“You lucky you my cuz, or you’d be eatin’ dirt.”
W e sit back in the shadows and wait. Smush is playing with his phone, texting and looking at videos.
Snapper’s looking at me, probly wondering about what I got him into. “You should really talk to Harp about this. He won’t want you breaking the law,” he says.
I shake my head. “Look, Harp has to do what he has to do. He already got Lightning living in his house and that’s all he gotta worry about. They gonna sell off ol’ Boo for dog food — I know it.”
Snapper makes a face. “Dogs eat horse? Man, that’s messed up.”
Smush looks up from his phone. “Wait a sec. How come the City rescues these horses only to destroy ’em? That don’t make no sense.”
I shrug. “All I know is, these ain’t prize horses or nothing. They has-beens. You think the police wants seconds from people like us?”
Smush nods. “You got a point.” He glances down at his phone screen and gets a weird look on his face. He brings it up to his face and watches more closely. “Oh, damn. Check it out. We on the news!”
He holds up his phone and shows me a video. I see the inspection dudes going through the Ritz-Carlton, examining horses, talking about the bad conditions they lived in and how the stables was illegal and all. They show everything — the hole in the roof, all the mud and muck, that big pile of crap, but worse of all, the dead horse.
Seeing it this way, it looks bad. Suddenly, I can see how someone watching this would think the cops is the good guys and
we
the bad guys. Like everyone who live around here must be too poor or too stupid to take care of their pets. They’ll wonder what we thinkin’ keepin’ horses in the middle of a war zone in the worst neighborhood in Philly. That’s how it looks to me, and I know better!
Smush stares at the video. “You can’t believe nothing you see on the news. No one has the right to do what they doing to Uncle Harp and these horses. They just looking to stir things up to make a story.”
When he says that, suddenly I know Jamaica Bob was right — the City wants that land and will do
anything
to get it. “They musta planned to raid the stable after that storm, knowin’ it’d make us look bad,” I say. “And maybe they let that crap pile up just for something like this, so they could get it on video.”
Smush nods. “Makes sense now. I mean, how else would the news even get this video, unless the City gave it to them?”
“Dang, that’s like a conspiracy!”
“Yeah, a conspiracy. That’s what it is,” says Smush, shaking his head. “Man, we in it now!”
Snapper interrupts.
I look around. There’s one gate into the main corral area with the outdoor stalls. The stalls don’t seem to have any locks or nothing. Seem pretty simple to me. “We wait until it gets dark, then we go in.”
Smush pulls me back down. “Okay. Saying we get the horses, then what?”
I look at him. “Then we ride.”
“Ride where?”
I tell him what the guys said about the Federation of Black Cowboys.
“Brooklyn? Now I know you crazy. That’s like two hours away by car! What, you just gonna ride all them horses on the expressway? Cuz, you lost your head.”
“What’s the difference between Harp and them riding in the streets and this?” I ask.
“About a hundred miles,” he says.
I shake him off. “Look, let’s just get ’em outta here, then we’ll figure it out. Harper says this park is so big you can get lost in it. So we’ll get lost, hide out, and figure our next move. We can camp in these woods here, like we on the run.”
“Not
like.
We
will
be on the run.” He stares at the cop through the fence. “I don’t know, cuz. I’m already on probation. If I get caught . . .”
I give him a little push. “Like I said, if you can’t man up —”
He pulls his fist back like he gonna pop me, then smiles when he sees I’m playin’ him.
“You lucky you my cuz, or you’d be eatin’ dirt.”
W e sit back in the shadows and wait. Smush is playing with his phone, texting and looking at videos.
Snapper’s looking at me, probly wondering about what I got him into. “You should really talk to Harp about this. He won’t want you breaking the law,” he says.
I shake my head. “Look, Harp has to do what he has to do. He already got Lightning living in his house and that’s all he gotta worry about. They gonna sell off ol’ Boo for dog food — I know it.”
Snapper makes a face. “Dogs eat horse? Man, that’s messed up.”
Smush looks up from his phone. “Wait a sec. How come the City rescues these horses only to destroy ’em? That don’t make no sense.”
I shrug. “All I know is, these ain’t prize horses or nothing. They has-beens. You think the police wants seconds from people like us?”
Smush nods. “You got a point.” He glances down at his phone screen and gets a weird look on his face. He brings it up to his face and watches more closely. “Oh, damn. Check it out. We on the news!”
He holds up his phone and shows me a video. I see the inspection dudes going through the Ritz-Carlton, examining horses, talking about the bad conditions they lived in and how the stables was illegal and all. They show everything — the hole in the roof, all the mud and muck, that big pile of crap, but worse of all, the dead horse.
Seeing it this way, it looks bad. Suddenly, I can see how someone watching this would think the cops is the good guys and
we
the bad guys. Like everyone who live around here must be too poor or too stupid to take care of their pets. They’ll wonder what we thinkin’ keepin’ horses in the middle of a war zone in the worst neighborhood in Philly. That’s how it looks to me, and I know better!
Smush stares at the video. “You can’t believe nothing you see on the news. No one has the right to do what they doing to Uncle Harp and these horses. They just looking to stir things up to make a story.”
When he says that, suddenly I know Jamaica Bob was right — the City wants that land and will do
anything
to get it. “They musta planned to raid the stable after that storm, knowin’ it’d make us look bad,” I say. “And maybe they let that crap pile up just for something like this, so they could get it on video.”
Smush nods. “Makes sense now. I mean, how else would the news even get this video, unless the City gave it to them?”
“Dang, that’s like a conspiracy!”
“Yeah, a conspiracy. That’s what it is,” says Smush, shaking his head. “Man, we in it now!”
Snapper interrupts.
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