Better late than never?

“Wouldn’t it be funny if we just ran under that horse?” I said to Carlea. We looked each other in the eyes and grinned. Bourbon street was so crowded, we were stuck in a traffic jam of bodies. “Oh my God should we?!” she let go of my arm and went for it. The cop on the creature’s back looked down as she stooped and pulled the reins as soon as she was underneath, causing animal to lift its knee right into her head. She emerged from the other side of the beast holding her head and squinting, “shit that hurt!” The cop ordered her onto the sidewalk with a “You think that was funny?! Why would you do a thing like that?!” “It was an accident officer, I tripped!” “Don’t give me that shit, keep walking, you’re going to the station. She was still rubbing her head as he steered his horse to walk directly behind her, its head nudged her in the butt, pushing her along, its huge body forced the crowd to seep off the sidewalk. I kept following behind until the officer finally told me to stay back, “Your friend might very well be going to jail ma’am” “Well I can’t leaver her, I’d be all alone!” I responded in my best damsel-in-distress tone. I waited outside of the station as she was taken inside. Our friend Kirsten had been following shortly behind and had seen the whole thing. She ran inside of the station, distraught, explaining frantically that her friend, Carlea had been falsely accused of a prank when really she had simply tripped and fallen underneath the horse. She pointed to Carlea who was in the corner of the room being questioned.  The questioning officer turned to Carlea who was putting on the performance of a lifetime, sobbing, rubbing her head, claiming to have a concussion, asking to call her mom. “Why is your friend calling you Carlea? You said your name was Brin Stevens” she stopped crying for a moment to answer, “I’m Catholic, Carlea’s just my confirmation name”. The officer agreed to call her mother who picked up on the second ring. He explained that he was calling from the N.O.P.D. and asked if Brin Stevens is her daughter. She’s not, of course, Carlea is her daughter, but luckily she recognized the name as an alias Carlea uses when in trouble. “Yes she is, what’s the problem officer?” “Well first we have to confirm that what you say is true, does your daughter have any tattoos Ms. Stevens?” “Her right arm says ‘Ink’ in black.” Carlea rolled up her sleeve and smiled.