TUESDAY TALES - PROMPT RACE - MIDNIGHT IN CENTRAL PARK

Welcome! Today's word prompt is "race". We have anothere episode of "Midnight in Central Park." Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thank you for stopping by.

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At five thirty, Trevor and Abby got up to go home. I strolled over to the turtle pond to have dinner. There’s a bench by the water. I like to eat with the turtles and the birds. There are two cool birds there. I looked them up. They’re cormorants—I looked it up at school. They swoop over the water, looking for fish. Sometimes they dive-bomb. Sometimes they swim, then duck under the water. The fish don’t stand a chance.

I unwrapped the package from Mrs. Hernandez. Meat loaf. My favorite. I saved the water bottle  from Ramon, and headed over to the fountain by the Shakespeare Theater. I’ve never seen a play there, but I’d like to. Sitting outside and watching actors. Might like that.

It’s peaceful at the pond, when the people leave.  Mom had made it clear, this would be a good night to find someplace else to sleep. Fine. I’d rather camp out in the park than see the shit that goes on at home when she’s “working.” It makes me wanna throw up.

So I scouted out a place to sleep. The big tree by the pond that gave me enough cover at night came down in a storm last year. So that was out. Might sleep on the wooden dock that juts out over the pond. It’s plenty dark there at night. The wood is hard, but my sleeping bag gives some cushion.

I stretched out on a bench. There’d be plenty of light for a couple more hours, so I finished my homework. Right after sunset, I got up. The park closes officially at 1 a.m. for suckers. Not for me. But those last two or three hours are the most dangerous times. I like to keep moving until one.

I got up and headed for Bethesda Fountain. Late at night, you can wash your feet there, almost take a bath, if there are no people or cops around. The lake got dark when the sun went down. Shadows closed in giving bad people lots of places to hide.

I pulled my sleeping bag from under a bush and brushed it off.

“Well, well. Who’s this?”

I jumped, almost straight up. Two guys, both taller than me. Hell, that wasn’t hard. Even Abby was taller than me. They faced me, looking mean.

“What do you want?”

“What do you got?” the smaller one asked.

“Nothin. Nothin. If you’re lookin’ for a rich kid, it ain’t me.”

“We’ll be the judge of that.”

I edged backward, toward the Literary Walk of Fame. When my feet hit the mall, I turned and ran like Hell. They raced after me. 

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