“What you think?” said Percy.
I bit hard on my lower lip, trying to control my anger. “Looks like he’s been whipped.”
Percy sneered. “Yeah, what of it?”
I turned to Robert. “You tell me what happened!”
“Well . . . nothing, Paul . . . nothing much really,” Robert managed, acting himself a bit skittish.
“What do you mean, nothing? Who’s been riding him?”
“I rode him,” answered Christian boastfully. “So did Percy. First time he’s been ridden in a spell by someone knows how.”
I glared at Christian, then back at Robert with disbelief. “You let them ride Appaloosa?”
“Well . . . yeah . . . why not? He was theirs once, you know.”
“Yeah, once! They didn’t know how to ride him then, and they don’t know how to ride him now! Just look at Appaloosa!”
“Hey!” cried Percy to Robert. “You just going to let him talk to you this way?”
“I’ll talk to him, you, or your brother any way I please!” I spat out angrily. “What you do to this horse? How could you ride him down this way? Use a whip on him? Robert! How could you be so stupid as to ever let a Waverly ride my Appaloosa?”
“Your Appaloosa?” said Robert.
“Stupid?” exclaimed Christian. “Boy, you calling a white man stupid?”
“You got no need to call me names, Paul!” Robert said sharply.
“Well, what else you call it?” I shot right back. “Look at this horse!”
“Robert, you gonna let this boy talk that way to you?” Percy cried again.
“You don’t do something about this smart-talking white nigger, I will!” vowed Christian.
Robert didn’t object to the word this time. I took note of that, then turned with Appaloosa and headed off the road into the forest. “Where you going?” Robert demanded.
“What do you care?” I retorted. “You can’t ride Appaloosa yourself, so I reckon you don’t much care how he’s treated or where he goes.”
“You leave that horse here!” ordered Robert.
I stopped and looked back at him. “What for? So you and these two other fools can beat him to death?”
“That’s it!” cried Christian, and sprang toward me.
Robert grabbed Christian’s arm, stopping him. “Paul!” he said. “You watch your mouth!”
I just looked at Robert, then went on with Appaloosa.
“Paul—don’t you turn your back on me!”
“Robert Logan, what kind of white man are you?” asked Christian. “You do something about this nigger, or I swear—”
Robert raced after me and yanked me by my arm. “I said to stop!”
“You stop!” I said, and jerked away. I glared at Robert; he glared at me. I took them all in with my gaze, then turned once more toward the forest. This time Robert took hold of my arm with his left hand and, with his right, hit me a sharp uppercut to my jaw. I stumbled backward, dropping the reins. I hadn’t expected Robert to hit me. I knew he was mad, and so was I, but we’d been mad at each other before, though not in front of strangers. We’d fought each other before, but not in front of strangers. That’s what made this time different. Always before, we’d put our differences aside and stood together when it came to outsiders. Not now.
At first Robert seemed stunned that he’d hit me. Then he came at me again with a vengeance and knocked me to the ground with a wild rage, flailing at me. I gathered my senses, rolled him off, and let him have it, brother or not. I was in a rage too, far greater than I’d ever been, more than I had been with Mitchell or R.T. or any of the others. Robert had turned on me, and it was a hurt more than I could bear. I slammed at Robert with a fury.
The Waverlys pulled me off Robert, and then they began to beat at me themselves, the two of them. All the times I’d had to fight Mitchell came in handy now. Though I was smaller than Christian, I managed a hard punch to both him and Percy, then slipped from their grasp. Holding my stomach with one hand, I grabbed Appaloosa’s reins with the other and dashed into the forest. The Waverlys ran after me, but I knew the forest; they didn’t. I slipped onto hidden trails and left them behind.
Finally, when I knew I had lost them, I made my way to the creek with Appaloosa. I took him right into the middle of the water and let him drink. When he’d gotten his fill, I took off his saddle and laid it aside on the bank. Then I took off my own bloodied shirt, dipped it in the water, and bathed him down, minding his wounds. “Don’t you worry,” I told him. “I get you back to the barn and put some salve on you, you’ll be good as new.” Appaloosa heard my words and neighed as if he understood. I made sure he had some comfort, then tended to my own wounds.