Scrambled (7 page)

That Thursday Ralph drove Davidde and Dwayne to the first race, in Abercwmffrwmpan. He’d borrowed a trailer from work and hooked it to the back of the car. Davidde was feeling confident and couldn’t wait. He’d spent a lot of time with his father talking about racing and visualising things that could happen. He’d tried things out down the Rec, with Dwayne timing him and suggesting ways of improving his technique. He was ready.

When they arrived they were ushered to the technical area where they could work on the bike. The rules were that competitors weren’t allowed to talk to each other and their identities had to remain a secret. Any time the competitors were seen together, either to race or have official photos taken, they had to wear their specially darkened visors and not speak. They could only reveal their
faces after they had been eliminated from the competition. Two would go out tonight, two on Monday, and the final between the last two racers would be next Thursday.

Davidde, or Bucket Head as he now was, had been given a new set of blue shiny leathers but was required to wear his oversized black helmet, which had had the silhouette of a silver bucket sprayed onto the sides. Representing the village of Shwt was Mysterion, who wore black leathers, and a black helmet with a red question mark sprayed on the sides. The Glynwinci riders were Coco, who had a clown stencil on the helmet, and Tinmouth who was clad in silver. Representing Abercwmffrwmpan, the home racers and favourites, were The Zebra, decked out in black and white stripes, and Ratboy, wearing dirt-grey overalls with a helmet with pointy ears stuck on it.

As the race approached, Davidde expected to feel tense, but he didn’t. He felt that maybe he should feel some nerves, but he didn’t. All he had to do tonight was finish fourth or above, so statistically he had a two in three chance of going through to the next round. He didn’t even have to win.

He waved when he was introduced and noticed how the hands of some of the other racers shook as they waved. He reckoned they would be nervous and make mistakes. If he couldn’t get to the front, he could just wait for them to do something stupid and pass them as they slipped up. He’d been given a poor draw on the outside for the first corner so he would have to bide his time.

The riders were waiting for the gate to go down. There was a countdown from three and they were off!

Bucket Head didn’t get off to a great start, but he didn’t panic. He didn’t want to risk getting caught in a pile-up on the first corner so he allowed everyone else to go through first. At the end of the first of three laps he was still at the back but he was in touch.

On the second lap, he began to realise that the riders here were of a much higher standard than what he was used to. He started taking a few risks but found that rather than catching up, he was still only staying in touch. By the end of the second lap he was again at the back, with Ratboy way out in front, Mysterion behind, Coco next,
with Tinmouth and The Zebra going for the prized fourth spot.

Eventually Bucket Head managed to get himself half a bike-length behind The Zebra. The Zebra was doing his best to catch up with Tinmouth and on the last turn took a suicidal line and clipped the back tyre of Tinmouth and both of them span out of control. Bucket Head was aware of them falling as he raced through the gap and made it home in fourth.

He was through!

9

Davidde was tamping. He’d underestimated his opposition, and he’d only got through on luck, that was clear. Was he just expecting to turn up and walk it? He needed to up his game. He was going to practise, hard. Him and Dwayne were going to have to work much harder.

The next week they didn’t bother with school. They spent days at the Rec working on strategies to make Davidde go faster. Dwayne thought that one of Davidde’s problems was that he was spending too much time in the air when he went over bumps. He was rewarded for this observation by being ordered to go and find a ramp for Davidde to practise on. Dwayne thought about telling Davidde to go and find a ramp himself, but he managed to bite his tongue. He re-appeared twenty minutes later dragging an old door.

‘Put it down by there,’ said Davidde, ‘and time me doing laps, butt.’

After another hour of practice, Davidde was happy that he was taking a much better trajectory through the air and was wasting less time.

‘I’m going to do another half hour by myself, Dwayne. I don’t need you. Take the door and put it in the garage to keep it safe.’

Davidde sped off and Dwayne started dragging the door towards the crooked back alley. His face was creased as he mumbled to himself, ‘Who does he think he is? Does he think I’m his slave or what?’

Dwayne realised that this was the first time he’d felt hard done by since hanging round with Davidde rather than Lyndon, so he carried on dragging the door. But by the time he’d got to the alley he’d convinced himself that Lyndon and Davidde were both as bad as each other, and he threw the door in a fit of anger. It landed angled over Mr Leighton’s wall. It would stay there for the rest of the week.

Ralph Nippers sat at the kitchen table. He was drinking tea. He wasn’t smoking.

‘And what have you got to say for yourself?’

Davidde didn’t know what to say.

‘I’ll try again then. I had a little phone call today. From school?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah. They say you haven’t been there all week.’

‘I wasn’t there. I was practising.’

‘So your bike is more important than school, is it?’

‘When have you ever cared how I do in school?’

This was a fair point. All the years that Davidde had been a model pupil, his father hadn’t paid any attention. Now he was taking days off, it seemed to matter to him. It didn’t seem fair. In the past Davidde would never have challenged his father, but now he wasn’t going to back down.

‘Tell me. When have you ever cared?’

‘Now, Davidde, I realise that over the years I may not have been the world’s greatest father. And I realise that lately I may not have been here for you, and I feel a bit bad about that…

‘And the thing is, I don’t know about you, but I’m a man, with needs, and … what I’m trying to say is, and I don’t know if you are going to like this or not, but one of the reasons I’ve been spending a lot of time away from the house … what I’m trying to say is I’ve got a girlfriend.’

Davidde didn’t like it. He stood tall and looked down on his red-faced father.

‘What’s her name?’

‘Mary. Mary Trunk. Her daughter Kaitlinn’s in your class.’

Davidde was properly nervous for the second race at Glynwinci. Ralph drove him, though they weren’t speaking, and Dwayne sat in the back of the car, awkward, saying nothing. They set the bike up in silence while Davidde thought about his opposition. They were all good, and the ones who had gone out had been good as well. He had been lucky. He’d been surprised as well because it turned out that Tinmouth had been a girl. She was named after a famous female motorcyclist she admired, not because she had a mouth made of tin. She spoke eloquently after the race and wished everybody luck for the next round. Davidde wasn’t sure he would be able to be so magnanimous.

Ralph tapped him on the helmet. ‘Ready to go?’

‘Aye.’

Dwayne went to tap his helmet as well but Davidde moved and he ended up poking Davidde in the eye.

‘Sorry, butt.’

Davidde put his visor down and drove to the starting gate. His eye was still streaming when he waved to the crowd in response to being introduced, and his hand was shaking. He just wanted to start now and get everything out of the way. He’d drawn a good starting position this time, second out from the first turn. He had to really pay attention because he still couldn’t see properly out of his poked eye. When the countdown started, he was focused, and when the gate came down he went straight to the front and stayed there for the rest of the race, not seeing what went on behind him. As it turned out it was a hotly contested race with Mysterion just pipping Ratboy and Coco.

He tried to work out what it all meant. In the first race he had for most of it been last, and in the second race he had for most of it been first. A while ago all he cared about was being good in school, and now he didn’t care at all. He hadn’t cared about motorbikes before, now it was all he could think about. There didn’t seem to be any middle ground. Was there something wrong with him?

11

On Wednesday night, the night before the final race, Davidde still hadn’t spoken to his father since he’d told him he’d been going out with Kaitlinn’s mother. He was seething. It seemed like a desertion. He never noticed the little kids in school looking up at him like he was a god, staring at him with their eyes wide open, wanting him to acknowledge them. He never noticed the teachers looking at him in bewilderment, wondering how someone so amenable and diligent could go off the rails so spectacularly. And he never noticed the boys his own age, some of whom admired him for becoming so cool, the others who couldn’t stand him for exactly the same reason.

One thing he had noticed was that Dwayne was staying out of his way. He didn’t stay with him
for hours, timing laps and making suggestions. Davidde figured he’d outgrown him. There was nothing more for Dwayne to teach him. So be it, he thought, that is how it should be. The pupil leaves the teacher behind. It was like that in ancient Greece, it’s like that in Maesunig now.

And the worst thing? The worst thing was the idea that at the minute, he was technically halfway to becoming Kaitlinn Trunk’s stepbrother. It was an outrage. He would have to do whatever it took to jeopardise his father’s relationship. He was pretty sure Kaitlinn would be feeling exactly the same. Maybe they could find some way of co-operating and stopping their parents staying together. It was, after all, in both their interests.

It was the evening before the final race. Davidde thought about his problems as he made his way back home after his final practice session down the Rec, and he saw a remarkable thing.

It was getting dark, and there was no one about.

Davidde stopped. He couldn’t believe it.

Propped against the wall in his alley was a scrambler he recognised.

Mysterion’s scrambler. The bike he would be racing tomorrow.

He looked around. He wondered if he could nobble it, the same way Dwayne had nobbled Lyndon’s.

He could pierce the tyre. He could give it a slow puncture that hopefully wouldn’t be noticed before the race. It would deflate as the race progressed, giving Davidde a much better chance of winning. It wasn’t cheating, he was just optimising his chances of victory. In his pocket he had his penknife, the one Dwayne had given him with the bike. ‘You never know when it’ll come in handy,’ he’d said. It would come in handy right now. He got it out and looked around. He opened the blade that was supposed to be for getting stones out of horses’ hooves. It was the first time he’d ever needed it.

He looked around again – no one about. He got down on one knee and put the blade to tyre. He got ready to push the blade in slowly. One last look around.

He pushed the blade and the tyre resisted. It would take a real thrust to put it through the rubber. He looked around again. It would just be a tiny prick, that’s all, nothing to write home about.

Then, just as he was about to plunge the point in, he sensed he was being watched. He looked over his shoulder. It was the Black Rider, head shaking in what Davidde knew was disappointment. The Black Rider turned around and walked away, head shaking all the while. Davidde’s body went from tense to slack. He knew he was doing the wrong thing.

A door opening, the door to his house, a black helmet with a red question mark, a voice Davidde recognised.

‘Oi, what do you think you’re doing?’

Davidde stood up too quickly and the blood drained from his head. He tried to move away from the bike and protest his innocence at the same time but finished by falling over the curb, with Mysterion standing over him.

‘I, I wasn’t doing nothing, I was just looking at the bike.’

Mysterion took off the helmet.

Davidde was astonished.

Mysterion was Kaitlinn Trunk.

‘You were going to interfere with my bike, the same way you got Dwayne to interfere with Lyndon’s. I know all about you, loser.’

Davidde didn’t bother denying anything.

‘You’re a loser, like your father. I can’t see what Mam sees in him, honest to god I can’t. That’s what I’ve just been telling them.’

‘Shurrup about my dad, will you? There was nothing wrong with him till he started seeing your mam. I can’t cope now he’s gone all sensitive.’

‘Listen, loser, you’re going to lose to me tomorrow like you lose to me at everything. With you it’s all or nothing – be good in school, or be good at Motocross. For you it’s either one or the other. Why can’t you see that you can do both? You can do well in lessons, and do things outside school and be good at them, too. Boys are so stupid.’

Davidde thought about it. He had done a lot of work on his bike, and it had been to the detriment of other things. Like his Art project.

‘Oh yeah, Miss Purvis-Pughes isn’t very happy with you either. The Art moderators are coming the day after tomorrow to look at our projects. Mine’s done. Yours isn’t. You’ve got a day to get it done. Loser.’

That night Davidde dreamed about the Black Rider for the last time. He’d had a miserable night
by himself. His father had gone with Kaitlinn’s mother who was upset after they’d argued with Kaitlinn, so Ralph wasn’t there to wake Davidde on the morning of the final.

He’d slept fitfully. He kept seeing the Black Rider looking on as he tried tampering with Kaitlinn’s bike. Davidde would run after the Rider, but he could never catch up. He’d get close but then he would wake up covered in sweat. Finally after having the same dream four or five times, he did catch up. The Black Rider turned around and faced Davidde. The visor opened by itself. Davidde felt he should look away, he felt scared. He looked inside the helmet.

There was nothing there.

It was completely empty.

Davidde sat up in bed. It was time to get up.

His father arrived while he was having breakfast. Davidde didn’t say anything to him.

He sat down opposite Davidde with a glass of juice. He looked shell-shocked.

‘That Kaitlinn’s a bit of a handful, isn’t she?’

Davidde couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

‘Glad I wasn’t in school with her. She’s off her head, mun.’

Davidde was smiling now. It was the closest he’d felt to his father in a long time. And it was Kaitlinn who had brought them together. However, Davidde couldn’t help but admire the way she’d combined her studies with her dirt-bike career. It wasn’t something he’d considered possible, but she had done it. It was a great achievement.

‘Now, Davidde, there’s a few things I need to explain to you, before I go to work. I’ll see you before the race tonight but you probably won’t be in a position to listen, so it’s best I talk to you now, man to man.’

He coughed.

‘The thing is Davidde, despite the best efforts of Kaitlinn, Mary and me have got engaged. I know you might be a bit upset, but things move on. I’m sure your mam would have been alright with it. And we’re having a party tonight, up the Club, after the race. It would be great if you could come along after your presentation.’

Davidde thought.

‘I’ll be there,’ he said. ‘Did you know Kaitlinn was Mysterion?’

‘It was news to me, boy. It was news to her mother as well. She didn’t know the first thing about it. She did it all when she visited her father
on weekends. He’s into his bikes as well, by the sound of it.’

Ralph paused for a second.

‘Thanks, Dai. I’ll keep a few sandwiches back for you. And there’s something else I need you to do?’

‘What?’

‘It doesn’t matter to me if you win or lose tonight. I’ll still love you, you know that. But,’ he paused, ‘it would be great if you pulverised Kaitlinn tonight. She’s been cooking my swede.’

‘Don’t worry, Dad,’ said Davidde. ‘I’ll send her for fags.’

School passed in a haze. Davidde was focused on that night’s race. He didn’t really notice the goodwill there was towards him. Although no one was meant to know his identity, it was an open secret. Pupils and teachers wished him all the best, but he just wandered around aimlessly from lesson to lesson apart from Art which he didn’t go to. He stayed in the toilets instead. He knew he had to get his art project finished by tomorrow, but he didn’t know how that could be done.

Dwayne came in halfway through the lesson.

‘Alright, Dwayne?’

‘Alright, butt?’ Dwayne didn’t feel like talking.

‘Any suggestions for tonight, Dwayne?’

‘Not really, butt. That Mysterion looks quite good like.’

‘Mysterion is Kaitlinn Trunk.’

‘Shut up!’

‘Serious, butt.’

Dwayne thought for a while.

‘She’s not used to being in the lead, so let her set the pace and stay with her for the first two laps. Don’t go past her. Just wait until the final bend and open up the throttle – don’t go past her before that. Her bike is probably quicker than yours over the course of the race but yours is probably quicker over a short distance. Don’t leave her get too much of a lead though cos she’s quite good. I mean good. And not just good for a girl either. I mean good like. I’m not trying to be sexy.’

‘Sexist, Dwayne, you’re not trying to be sexist.’

‘Righto butt, whatever.’

Davidde put his hand on Dwayne’s shoulder.

‘Thanks, Dwayne.’

‘No worries, butt. Stick to the game plan, OK?’

‘OK.’

‘Ta.’