Grind (3 page)

“You're joking, right?” Wally asked.

“No joke. If you stick around you'll see.”

“But you're a pro,” Wally protested. “I thought you were really
good
.”

“I am a pro and I am really good. Nobody lands all their tricks. Tell me, what do you
think is the most famous trick of all time?” Bam Bam asked.

I didn't even have to think about it. “Tony Hawk landing a nine.”

“Yeah, the nine,” Wally agreed.

The nine was a nine hundred-degree rotation—he turned two and a half times in mid-air, landing on the board and sticking the jump. He pulled it off at the X-Games, and it remained the best-known trick of all time.

“I have to agree,” Bam Bam said. “Do you know how long it took him to land that trick?”

I shook my head.

“The shot you see on the videos, the one where he made it, was his
thirteenth
attempt that day.”

“I didn't know,” I said.

“And he'd been trying that trick, on a regular basis, for thirteen
years
,” Bam Bam continued.

I gasped. “I had no idea.”

“It isn't about the tricks you miss.”

“Unless it's a spectacular miss,” the camera guy said.

“Yeah,” Bam Bam agreed. “What really count are the tricks you make.”

“And capture on video,” the camera guy said, holding up the camera. “And then you place them on your web site and videos.”

“Yeah, the web site is the key. It's not the old-school days, when tournaments produced sponsors and money. Now it's all web- and Internet-related. Now any skater, especially if he has a gimmick, something different, can make a name for himself.”

“Speaking of which,” the camera guy said, “if we want to add to your name, we'd better get this trick on tape.”

Bam Bam skated back up toward the bank. I knew that nobody made
every
trick, but somehow I just thought the pros made
most
of them. It made me realize that maybe they weren't that much different—or better—than me.

Bam Bam leaned out of the window of the car and waved as they drove away. We both waved back. Wally jumped up and down like he was a little schoolgirl.

“Wasn't that amazing?” Wally gushed.

“Part of it was. Did you see how many times he missed that trick before he finally stuck the landing?”

Wally shrugged. “Man, I'm never going to wash this again.” He held up his board,
displaying the spot where Bam Bam had autographed it.

“Since when did you ever wash your board?”

“You know what I mean.”

“All I know is that you were acting pretty goofy. He's just another skateboarder.”

“A pro boarder, featured in videos, magazines and on the web. I'm going to check out the web as soon as I get home and see if they've put up our pictures.”

“Great, something to look forward to. Do you think they're going to put the video of the trick on his page?”

“I guess. He sort of nailed it,” Wally said.

“Sort of” was the best way to describe it. He stayed on his board for a few feet after landing before he bailed.

“I know it was a hard trick,” I said, “but somehow I thought he would have got it sooner.”

“I hate to admit it — especially after he signed my board—but he wasn't really that great,” Wally said. “He wasn't that much better than you.”

“Thanks…I guess.”

“You know what I mean. I just thought because he was a pro he'd be fantastic.”

“I guess the whole thing is to just do the same thing over and over again until you finally get it on video. Speaking of which, do you want to try your trick once more?”

“I'll pass on that for now. It's getting late and I have to go home and study for the math test.”

“How about if we just stay a little bit—” I stopped as I saw the little white security car zoom around the corner of the grocery store. The car squealed to a stop, and the security guard jumped out and immediately started yelling at us.

Wally grabbed his backpack and his board, and I grabbed my board, and we started running. We cut across the grassy strip, through some beaten-up bushes and ducked through a hole in the chain-link fence. We stopped when we got safely through the hole. He never chased us very far. Actually, this particular guy was so chunky and out of shape that I didn't think
he
could
chase us for long…or even fit through the hole in the fence.

“You better not come back!” he yelled, shaking his fist in the air.

“We won't come back!” I yelled as we leaned over the fence. “At least not until
tomorrow!
”

“You better hope I never catch you!” he hollered.

“You got no chance of catching us until you stop catching so many double bacon cheeseburgers!” I screamed back.

His face got all red and he began swearing and screaming and started waddling toward us. Wally ran away, but I stayed right by the fence, smiling and waving and laughing. Just before he reached the fence, I blew him a kiss and took off. He threw a series of new and exciting words in my direction, but there was no way he'd catch me.

Wally was waiting for me by the under-pass.

“You really shouldn't try to tick him off,” Wally said.

“He started being a jerk. I just gave it back to him. Stupid rent-a-cop.”

“You heading home now?” Wally asked.

“In a while. I'm thinking I should go back to the Super Save and skate for a while longer.”

Wally gave me a concerned look.

“Joking, just joking.”

“You want to come to my place for dinner?”

“What are you having?” I asked.

“What does it matter? It'll be homemade, and good.”

“Well…”

“Come on, my mother loves you coming for dinner. It gives her another chance to fatten you up. She thinks you're all skin and bones.”

“I am, compared to your family.” Wally was the oldest of five boys—five big boys. Two of Wally's little brothers were bigger than me, and it wasn't like I was small or anything.

“You sure there'll be enough?” I asked.

“There's always enough. Besides, you eat
like a bird so what does it matter?” Wally questioned.

“I eat. I just don't eat like you and your brothers.” They could all eat their weight in homemade perogies.

“So, you coming or what?” he asked.

“I'm coming.”

“Good, and try to eat more. You know how my mother is—if you don't eat enough she thinks you don't like her food, and if you don't like her food, you don't like her.”

“In that case, she must think that you and your brothers really,
really
like her.”

“Your supper's on the table!” my mother yelled as I walked in the door.

Oops. I'd forgotten to call to tell her I was going to eat at Wally's. And when I started boarding home I met some people, and we started skating and I lost track of the time.

“But you're so late it's long since cold,” she said as she appeared at the door.

“That's okay, I'm not really that hungry. I'm just going to head up to my room.”

“We'd actually like you to join us at the table for a little conversation,” my father said as he stepped through the doorway.

“What sort of conversation?” I asked. I knew this couldn't be good.

“Join us.” My father walked toward the kitchen. My mother and I followed. We all sat down at the table.

“Where were you?” my father asked.

“Just skating.”

“I assumed that. Why didn't you call?”

“I was skating and …” I shrugged.

“Maybe we didn't get any calls
from
you, but we certainly got a call
about
you,” my mother said.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“We got a call from that automated machine at your school telling us you were missing from first period.”

“First period?” I asked, trying to sound innocent, knowing that I'd been in the donut shop during first period. “I was there,” I lied.

“Were you?” my father asked.

“Who are you going to believe, your son—a human being — or some stupid machine?”

“A human being,” my mother said. “We called the school back and spoke to a human being—the vice-principal—and he confirmed it.”

I was going to say something about the vice-principal really not being that much of a human, but I thought better of it.

“I didn't miss
all
of it,” I said, knowing that I was trapped. “I was just late.”

“There was no reason for you to be late,” my father said. “You know, it's time you started to take things more seriously.”

“I take things seriously,” I argued.

“We mean other than skating,” my mother said.

“Skating is important.”

My father laughed. “No, it's not. We think it's getting in the way of things, like school, that
are
important.”

“It's not.”

“If you spent as much time on school as you did on being on your board, then your marks would be higher,” my mother said.

“And if you're not going to spend your time on school, maybe you should at least
get a part-time job and earn some money,” my father said.

I didn't answer. I didn't want a job. I just wanted to skate.

“It's time to get serious,” my father repeated. “And serious things involve school or even working. Something that would either lead to a career or at least make you money. Do you understand?”

I nodded. I understood. That didn't mean I agreed.

“And we both understand that you must still be upset about breaking up with Lisa,” my mother said.

“Why do people keep bringing that up?” I snapped. “It isn't like somebody died.”

“You two were together a long time, and teenage relationships can be painful. We understand,” she said.

I wanted to say something about it being so long since she'd been a teenager that I doubted she could remember that far back. I kept the words inside my head.

“If it's okay with you two, I'd like to go up to my room and study for my math test.”
I sat in my room, in the dark, the only light coming from the computer screen. I jumped around from one web site to another. I'd found Bam Bam's site. I was relieved to see that no pictures of either Wally or me — looking stupid and stunned—were posted … at least not yet.

I'd surfed from his site to a bunch of other skate sites. Lots of sites with a lot of different skaters doing a lot of different tricks.

It was funny. I'd seen a lot of these tricks before, but now I was thinking about them differently. I couldn't help but wonder how many times they'd missed it before they captured the one that worked on video. I knew if I had enough time, I could land a lot of those tricks myself.

On each site there were little ads and popups. And now I understood how those ads worked. Every time I logged onto Bam Bam's web page — or anybody's web page—they were getting paid by those sponsors. Strange. Really strange.

And then — like a bolt of lightning — it came to me.

I picked up the phone and pushed the second button on my speed dial. It had just started to ring when it was picked up.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Wally, what were you doing, sitting on the phone? I have an idea.”

“How much potential pain and money is this going to involve?” Wally asked.

“It will involve a lot of money, but you're going to
make
it instead of
spend
it. And as for the pain, you know what they say, no pain, no gain.”

“And how much pain is there going to be?”

“No more than usual.”

“So, what's your idea?” Wally asked.

“I'll tell you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I'll meet you at the usual time in the cafeteria.”

“If you aren't going to tell me now, then why did you call me?”

“Because it isn't just me and you who need to be at this meeting. This plan involves two other people, and I need you to get one of them to come.”

“Who?” Wally asked.

“That guy in your computer science class. I don't know his name.”

“That's helpful. There are fifteen guys in that class.”

“He's the guy you were talking about, the guy's who's a real nerd, a techie, a genius.”

“Nevin,” Wally said.

“That's the name. Get him to be there.”

“I can call him, but what am I supposed to tell him?”

“Haven't you been listening at all? We're going to meet in the caf at eight.”

“I meant what do I tell him about why we're meeting?”

“You don't tell him anything. Just tell him to be there.”

“I'll try,” Wally said. “You said there were going to be two other people. Who's the second?”

“Lisa.”

“Lisa? She's going to meet us tomorrow?”

“Why wouldn't she?”

“I can think of a few reasons,” Wally said.

“You just get that Nevin guy to show up and I'll take care of Lisa. See you tomorrow, and don't be late.”

“Me, late?” Wally exclaimed. “I'm the one who's always on time.”

I hung up and chuckled to myself. Knowing Wally, he'd be there fifteen minutes early and anxious. Now for the hard part. I picked up the phone and pushed the first button on my speed dial. It rang and rang and rang. Maybe she wasn't home. Maybe she was out. Maybe she was out with somebody else.

“Hello.” It was Lisa. “Hello?”

For a split second I thought about hanging up.

“Hi, Lisa…it's me.”

“It doesn't look like she's going to show,” Wally said.