Riding Chance Read online

“Chance is cool,” I said, shrugging. “I’m getting ready for exhibition …”

  “You still, you know, keeping everything to yourself?” She looked a little bit sad. Like, maybe, she missed being friends.

  “No,” I said. “I took your advice. I talked to somebody about it.”

  “That’s good,” she said. “It’s not good to keep bad stuff to yourself.”

  “Yeah, well, Foster understood the whole thing.”

  “Foster,” she said. “That’s the only person you told?” She sat down in Winston’s chair and put her head in her hands. “Troy, you’re still trying to get over. You need to be straight up with Uncle Winston or Dre, somebody like that.”

  “Can’t do it,” I said, looking out the window. “They’ll kick me out.”

  “You don’t know that,” she said. “They understand everything you’ve been through.”

  “What have I been through, Alisha?” I turned around so we were looking at each other. “First my mom dies and then the cops jump me. Do you know how that feels?”

  “I don’t know how it feels to be jumped, but I know about the other part.” She sat back in Winston’s chair and looked up at the ceiling. “Both of my parents are dead, Troy. Did you hear me? Both of them.” She sat there breathing real hard. “Remember I told you it gets better?” She closed her eyes and one little tear streamed down her face. “That wasn’t a lie. It’s true, it does get better, but sometimes … sometimes I still catch myself crying. And the problem is, I don’t know which one of them I’m crying for.”

  “Probably both,” I said.

  “What?” She opened her eyes and wiped the tear off her chin.

  “You’re probably crying for both of them … and for yourself.”

  “I think you’re crying for yourself, too,” she said. “You just don’t want to admit it.” She stood up and pushed Winston’s chair close in under his desk. “But you’re losing yourself in your hard feelings.”

  “I can handle the hard feelings.”

  “Right.” She gave a little laugh. “Just what we need around here, another person who’s mad all the time.”

  “I can handle Jerome, too,” I said.

  “I sure hope so, Troy. I really, really do.”

  I TOOK A detour going home that day. Just wanted to spend more time in the park by myself. Fairmount Park. It was more a part of me than ever before. I watched the little yellow birds with black wings darting in and out of the bushes. Felt like even they were asking me when I was going to let the bad stuff go.

  Alisha was right. I didn’t want to be hard anymore. If I stayed hard, it would mean the cops had won. They’d tried to make me feel small that night out on the sidewalk but they couldn’t stop everything I had going for me. Only I could do that if I let the hardness take over. Well, that’s not how I wanted to flow. That’s not what my mom had loved about me. That’s not what I loved about myself.

  JEROME. JEROME PLAYED IT COOL the next day. He stopped at the barn door, adjusting his eyes to the dim light before stepping inside. I was busy getting Chance tacked up for our practice but I know he saw me. He went through the barn with Winston, saying hello to all the horses before he worked his way over to where I was.

  “Hey, man,” I said. “Everything good?”

  “Good as gold,” he said. “That’s the gold we could win if this exhibition game was the Olympics.”

  “That’s the right attitude,” said Winston. “Give every game everything you’ve got.”

  We were standing near Dre’s Star bulletin board and Jerome walked over to check it out. Marcus had written a rap about how he wasn’t going to miss mucking out the stalls. That was at the top of the board. Under that were pictures of me, Willie, and Little Keith on our horses and beside that Dre had tacked up a Welcome Back, Jerome note.

  Jerome gave a low humph. “I see you worked your way up on the board,” he said. He wasn’t looking directly at me but I could tell his mouth was set real tight. It hadn’t taken him even a half an hour to start in.

  “Look,” I said. “Maybe we can change things up now that you’re back.”

  “How’s that?”

  “We can start by talking about the party,” I said. I threw it right out there ’cause I didn’t want to have to spend all my time worrying about it. I even caught Winston by surprise on that one. He drew his head away and his eyes darted back and forth between Jerome and me.

  Jerome hesitated for a few seconds. “Nothing to talk about,” he said. “I’m over that.”

  He walked back down the aisle to Magic’s stall and started getting her ready for practice. Everybody knew you really had to be on your game to control her. There were other horses he could have ridden on his first day back but he chose her. To be real, it was a big deal for me to be training with him. He could do figure eights at a gallop and stuff like that.

  I had Chance ready to go, so I started leading her out of the barn over to the polo field. Winston followed along.

  “Smart of you to clear the air,” he said. “I think you and Jerome are going to be okay.”

  That’s what he was wishing for. I wasn’t so sure that was how things were going to play out. Jerome rode by us on Magic and took her around the field a few times while we watched.

  “Okay, Troy,” Winston said. “Your last few solo sessions have been great. Why don’t you guys do some two-rider drills?”

  “Definitely,” I said.

  “Ready, Jerome?” Winston called across the field.

  “Sure.” He rode over to where we were standing.

  I mounted Chance so me and Jerome were both on our horses.

  “Troy, this’ll be more practice for learning how to look behind you to see where the other rider hits the ball and then joining the line to take the next shot,” Winston explained.

  So I went up and down the field with Jerome all morning. I’d tap the ball up the field and then ride past it, leaving it for him to hit up to me. I had to keep looking behind me after I passed the ball so I could see where he was hitting it. Jerome gave me pointers like us riding together was no big deal, like everything was cool between us. My neck started to hurt after a while, so we took a break.

  “Shoulder holding up?” Winston called to Jerome when he saw us stopping.

  Jerome gave him a thumbs-up. “Troy needs a break,” he said.

  We walked Chance and Magic over to the water buckets. We didn’t really know what to say to each other, so I did some neck circles while the horses were drinking. Chance brought her head up out of her bucket and just sorta nudged me. Maybe that’s what made me come out with it.

  “Look, man,” I said. “About Alisha’s party …”

  Jerome frowned, surprised that I was bringing the party up again. “I’m past that,” he said.

  “Well, I’m not.” Chance nudged me with her head again. “Look … I’m sorry things went down the way they did. I shouldn’t have tripped you.”

  Jerome’s nostrils flared like he definitely wasn’t expecting to hear that. He stood there patting Magic for a few seconds. “So … what? You want a medal or something for telling the truth?”

  “No,” I said. “I just want to be straight up.”

  He patted Magic for a few more seconds. “Okay …” he said.

  Since I’d gone that far it felt like I should put everything out there. You know, just cut through all the mess.

  “How’s your cousin?” I said. “How’s Lay-Lay?”

  “What?”

  “I know you used to live around the way, and you and Lay-Lay are family.”

  “Wondered how long it’d take you to figure that out,” he said with a smirk. “Okay, yeah, me and Lay-Lay are related but that’s about it. We don’t hang and I don’t plan on changing that. He’s not going anywhere; I got plans.”

  “School like Dre?”

  “Humph,” he said. “I don’t know if it’s school, but I’m going somewhere.”

  “Oh, you’re gonna be like Winston. G
o international and all that—”

  “Winston left the circuit,” he said, cutting me off. “Nothing’s gonna get in my way.”

  He sounded more than a little uptight but I was just glad to get everything out in the open. Chance nuzzled my shoulder like she was, too.

  “All right, you guys,” Winston called from the other side of the field. “Break’s over.”

  We went back to our drills. Too bad it took us so long to stop playing games. Maybe we could’ve been cool from the beginning. Well, it was too late for that, but there wasn’t no law saying we couldn’t be straight from now on. At least, none that I knew of.

  POLO’S DIFFERENT FROM OTHER SPORTS. There’s all kinds of charges and stuff you can do to make contact with your opponent and stay in his face. It’s real physical. That didn’t bother any of us, Jerome, Willie, Little Keith, and me. That’s right—I was on the team.

  I could see Jerome liked to look big. He spent almost as much time grooming himself as he did taking care of the horses. He was bossy and conceited, but he treated me the same as he did the other guys.

  Anyway, Winston wanted us to win exhibition, period. I was the new guy on the team, so he spent extra time on my training. That’s why he put me on Magic one day. I’d been riding and practicing drills on Chance but Winston said I needed to be comfortable on other horses, too.

  Dre and Jerome were outside talking to the dude who takes care of horseshoeing, the farrier, so they saw what went down. See, I knew Magic was going to try to test me and she did. You know, she didn’t want to follow my commands at first, but I didn’t get mad. Uh-uh. I played like a horse, a horse she couldn’t get over on.

  “My instincts were spot-on,” said Winston. “I knew you could handle her.” He looked over at Dre and Jerome. “Did you see that?”

  Dre nodded. “Magic’s not an easy horse for a new rider to handle,” he said.

  “Well, I wouldn’t say it was easy.” I eyed Jerome, who wasn’t saying anything.

  “Don’t be shy,” said Winston. “That’s not what I need at exhibition.”

  “I’m going to be on Chance, right?”

  “Of course,” said Winston. “I just wanted to stretch you a little bit more.”

  The farrier called Dre’s and Jerome’s attention back to one of the horses who was having trouble with her hooves, and Winston went with them. I hosed Magic down and dried her off. I felt good ’cause I could handle her. You know, before, I always saw her as the horse that was out of my league. Now everybody saw just how good I was; even Magic was my friend.

  EVERYTHING WAS GOING RIGHT for a change. Pops was real proud of me and it showed. He fixed up the house and was even planning to have folks over after exhibition. You know, like a postmatch party. Him and Grandmom were fussing about what kind of music to play, jazz or Latin dance; she was serious about her Zumba thing.

  Me and my boy Foster hung out when we could. Not always up in his room; sometimes we sat out on his porch ’cause it was cooler. We were out there with Miss T a few days before the match. Me and Foster’d each had two slices of her blueberry pie, so you know we weren’t feeling any pain. Grandmom’s friend Miss Evelyn was on her way back from the grocery store when she stopped to say hello.

  “Good luck on Saturday, Troy. Everybody’s rooting for you.”

  “You’re right about that,” said Miss T. “Winston’s expecting a nice turnout. I hear even Lay-Lay’s coming.” She smiled like that was a nice thing.

  “Lay-Lay?” I said.

  “I heard that, too,” said Miss Evelyn, eyeing the last slice of pie. “See, Troy, you even got Lay-Lay excited.”

  “It’s nice to see that,” said Miss T. “That child sure needs something.” She held her almost empty pie plate out to Miss Evelyn. “Would you like this last slice? I see it’s calling out to you.” Everybody laughed but I couldn’t help but think it was strange that Jerome had invited Lay-Lay. He’d told me they didn’t hang.

  “Come on inside,” said Miss T, holding the door open for Miss Evelyn. “I’ll wrap this up for you.”

  Foster leaned over to me as soon as they were gone. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he said, all dramatic.

  “Yeah, Jerome and Lay-Lay. Something about that—”

  “Ain’t right.” Foster finished my sentence.

  Miss T would have corrected him if she’d heard him say ain’t. But even she seemed to think it was nice that Lay-Lay was going to see the match. “Everything’s been cool around the stables,” I said.

  “I don’t know,” said Foster, shaking his head. “I don’t trust either one of them.”

  “You’re starting to sound like me,” I said. “I thought I was the one who had trouble with that.”

  “Well, after what happened with the cops, nobody could blame you for acting weird. Plus, on top of that, you had Jerome making Percy sick ’cause he thought you’d get in trouble for it.”

  My back stiffened ’cause I’d never told Foster about kicking Percy. “Why’d he think that?”

  “ ’Cause he was looking out Dre’s window and saw you kick him.” I hadn’t seen a window in Dre’s apartment, but maybe it was in the back.

  “I only kicked him once,” I said. “How’d you find all this out anyway?”

  Foster’s voice was low. “I went over to the stables this morning with Miss T and I heard Jerome talking to Little Keith. They’re stupid, man. They just say any old thing without knowing who’s around.” Foster looked a little hurt. “You should have told me about it, you know, when it happened.”

  I leaned over to put my paper plate on the floor below my chair. “Yeah, sorry, man.”

  “Well, I was kinda messed up, too,” he said. “I was jealous of Chance … still am.”

  “Chance brings me closer to my mom,” I said, looking out over the porch railing. “But … so do you.”

  Foster nodded. “I know, man. I know.”

  WE PLAYED EXHIBITION out at Blanchard. Winston could’ve had it in Fairmount Park but I guess he didn’t want to since the park wasn’t on the circuit and Blanchard was. The countryside looked different from the way it had in the spring when I’d first gone out there. A lot of green had turned brown in the summer heat. That was on the way to Blanchard. Once we turned off the main road onto the club’s long driveway, everything was just as green as it’d been before. Looked like they didn’t have to worry about their water bill or nothing like that.

  Dre drove our string of horses real slow over all those little winding roads. I wanted Chance in the whole game with me and, since this wasn’t a pro match, I could keep her in the game as long as she was in good shape. All the twists and turns in the road made me think about everything that had happened over the summer, but I put that out of my mind. Had to focus on my game.

  I was playing the number four spot, defense. We knew the team we were playing, the Wildcats, were strong on offense. They were fast and they could shoot a ball down the field before you even knew they had it. What we needed to do was break up their chance to make goals. That meant I had to be ready for offensive drives and be able to move into position to defend our goal real fast. Once I stopped their attacks, I’d have to get the ball to Jerome, our number three, or up to one of our other players, who would try to score.

  I’d been talking to myself a lot. Positive self-talk, that’s what it’s called. Winston taught me that. Put all negative thoughts aside and fill your mind with positive energy. I know, sounds like something Mr. Glover would say, right?

  People started coming to the club about an hour before the game. Some were tailgating but a lot of folks just wanted to check out the horses. I looked around for Pops and Grandmom. They were sitting in the bleachers with Foster and Miss T. I recognized them by Grandmom’s wide-brimmed hat. There wasn’t a VIP tent or anything like that, but it was nice. A bunch of people from our stables were there with Alisha. And Uncle Ronnie was there, too. I had to give it to him; he had a nice-looking lady on his arm.


  “Nervous?” Winston asked. I hadn’t played at a club like this before. On top of that, it was hot and there wasn’t really much of a breeze. We had this sprinkler system hooked up so the horses could stay cool.

  “A little,” I said. Chance looked pretty good after the ride out from Philly, but I stayed as close to her as I could before the match started.

  Blanchard had a really good sound system and they were playing music before the game. This was nothing like our games in the park. Jerome joked that our horses might be too busy eating the nice grass on the polo field to play, but one look over at Magic and Chance told me that wasn’t true. Our horses were ready to go.

  The Wildcats played at Blanchard all the time and, from the looks of their equipment and horses, they had a lot more money than us. “That’s their weakness,” said Winston. “They’ll be sorry if they don’t take us seriously.”

  Jerome was like the perfect team captain, encouraging all of us to play hard. He even patted me on the back before we rode our horses onto the field for the warm-up. I followed the other players and cantered Chance up and down the field, making a big sweep in front of the bleachers. I don’t know who was smiling more, Pops or Grandmom, but I definitely heard Uncle Ronnie yelling, “That’s my nephew.” It was still hard to believe I was playing polo at Blanchard. Then the music stopped and the starting bell rang. It was time to play.

  Jerome won the throw-in and sent the ball crashing down the field. Looked to me like his shoulder was fine. We all tore down the field in a line with equal distance between us, that’s how you do it, but we weren’t alone. The Wildcats were on us tough. I was right in the middle of it and I was totally wired. My heart was jumping out of my chest and the hair on my arms was standing on end but I never lost my cool, man. I never lost it. I just did what I had to do—paid attention to who was where on the field and how Chance was feeling.

  Chance was the key to me making a good showing. I knew that. Felt like she knew it, too. She was coiled underneath me and, I don’t know, it just felt like we were flowing together. Real tough.