What Sammy Knew by David Laskin

What Sammy Knew by David Laskin

Author:David Laskin [Laskin, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2021-03-16T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Fifteen

Kim was so cold that her eyes teared and her teeth ached, but she didn’t care. She and Sam were alone on the upper deck of the Staten Island Ferry on the crossing back to Manhattan—the only passengers insane enough to venture out into the February blast. But how could they sit out the greatest show on earth? The sun shivered in a sky of pure, dazzling blue. The water, dense and oily, parted like flesh before the blade of the prow. Across the harbor, Liberty saluted their wake. And before them, on the rip-tooth edge of the island, numberless towers fortified the citadel of commerce, their chained glass winking coded messages at the city—the world—the cosmos. One of those banks of windows was her target. The lords of death and wealth still held the keys, but their days were numbered. Their kingdom was tottering. And when it fell, all of this would be hers—theirs—everyone’s. The People’s Park. Liberation Avenue. The World Peace Center. It wasn’t crazy—it was happening. The machinery was in place—or almost. The fuses were wired. The timers ticking. It was a matter of when, not if. It couldn’t not work.

Kim felt Sam’s frail body trembling beside her. She pressed behind him to break the wind. The only warm thing in the world was the strip of neck between his beanie and collar. She hid her face in the skin and breathed in the sweet boy scent.

Was he one of them?

It was impossible to talk over the wind, so she took Sam’s gloved hand and led him back inside the cabin. A cloud of diesel, sweat, perfume, and tobacco enveloped them as soon as they pushed through the swinging door. The windows were fogged but no one was looking outside anyway: napping, riffling newspapers, smoking, muttering, bickering, staring vacantly at the dirty floor, spooning food into babies, the other passengers were utterly oblivious to the miracle of New York Harbor.

“The people,” Sam said softly. She raised a quizzical brow. “Everyone on this boat—they’re the people, right? Power to these people? You seriously think they’re gonna rise up and join the Revolution?”

God, he sounded like her father. “I don’t know, Sam. I think if they turned on the evening news and saw one of these buildings fall—they’d wake up.”

“Yeah, and start screaming about law and order.”

“No. If we acted instead of just talking about it, we’d get through to them. They’re asleep because they think everything’s hopeless. But it’s not.” She lowered her voice. “Before the Panthers, black people were so desperate they were burning down the ghettos. Now the Panthers have given them the power to fight the power and they know it. All it takes is one man—one woman—with a gun to stand up to the pigs.”

“They’re not pigs, Kim. They’re cops. Soldiers. FBI. They’ve got napalm and nukes, for Christ sake! You really think you’re gonna bring it all down with a box of submachine guns and a couple sticks of dynamite?”

“So what’s your plan?” She wasn’t being sarcastic—she wanted to know.



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