A guy tried to free the sheep," a policeman was saying. "The
horses were scared and the wagon turned over."
There was someone with his legs under the enormous wheels
of the wagon. A group of men lifted the wagon up, and that's
when Jim realized that there was a second man under the wagon,
lying in a pool of blood. It was Mike.
Jim's friend wasn't dead yet. Jim moved the hair from Mike's
eyes.
"Did you win?" Mike asked. His voice was soft and filled with
pain.
Jim nodded. "You're going to be OK, Mike," he said.
Mike managed a weak nod. "I know i t . . ."
But, in the cold and dark of New York's Central Park, as the
smoke from the burning huts blew over them and took away the
last of the light, both men knew that this wasn't true.