Extreme! (10 page)

When Mio arrived home the first thing she did after greeting Yuki was race to the computer. Once it was turned on, she was shocked to see the same screen saver as she’d seen at school. Normally, the screen displayed a Japanese garden. When Mio sat in front of it she could almost feel the spiritual beauty of the garden, with its oriental pagodas and blooming cherry trees. But today that beauty was replaced by the harshness of the bright red circle, the logo for The Metropolitan School and the BMX slogans.

Mio clicked on the internet and was relieved when her email program came up. Her eyes raced down the screen, scanning for messages. There were seventy-six in all, which was strange, very
strange. Many of the senders were unknown to her. At last she found an email from Sachi. Sachi liked to practise so it was written in English.
Mio Shinozaki
, it said. Nothing like
To My Best Friend
, or
To my e-Pal
which she normally got. Using the mouse, Mio clicked on the message and began to read.

You make bad relationship with each other. Do not contact me. No email. No phone. Sayonara

Mio sat there in shock, the words dancing in front of her eyes. She and Sachi had been friends since
yochien
[kindergarten]. They’d gone to the same
sho-gakko
[elementary school]. Shared study and clubs. They’d learnt swimming and calligraphy together. Laughed at the same jokes, had a crush on the same boy. It was incomprehensible that Sachi didn’t want anything more to do with her. What had been in that email that was so hateful? So hurtful?

Mio decided to take this further. Her friendship with Sachi was too important to give up on. She emailed again, apologising for the second time and explaining that there was a person pretending to be her. She signed it,
Your friend, Mio
and prayed that soon it would be true again.

Next, Mio looked for an email from JEAAG. Nothing. She sighed, and decided to re-send the original in case they hadn’t received it. Things often went missing in cyberspace.

But when Mio turned her attention to the rest of her emails it was she who wished she’d go missing. Being gobbled up by cyberspace was preferable to sitting here and reading these, she thought.

Student after student had responded to the abusive emails, supposedly sent by her, calling her names that were unrepeatable and telling her to watch her back. Mio was stunned. After reading five or six emails she deleted them all, then regretted it immediately and retrieved them from the trash can. Marking all emails as ‘Read’ she shut down the computer. For a moment she contemplated the idea of closing her email address and opening a new one, starting with a new slate, but then she thought that the only way to discover who was sending the emails was to keep her account open.

Mio sat there, staring at the blank screen, thinking that this couldn’t be happening—not to Mio Shinozaki, excellent student, faithful daughter, friend and Freewheeler. Why? What was the reason for this? She knew that in life, challenges were meant to be character-building but she also knew she’d had enough. Surely she’d shown them that not only was she tough, could show kindness and respect, she also had
omoiyari
[thoughtfulness for others]. She felt torn. The Japanese Mio would
withdraw under all this pressure, but the Western Mio wanted to fight back. She thought about her life now, about being a Freewheeler and what that meant, and knew what she must do. She eased off the chair and stood up, throwing back her shoulders and holding up her head. She was going to fight back! And where better to start the fight than at the meeting tonight.

At six o’clock precisely all the Freewheelers had shown up at the council chambers. And at 6.03 pm Mr Lark hopped off a bus. Mr Lark! The last person Mio wanted to see. At this thought Mio shivered with guilt, for Mr Lark was the nicest, kindest old man, and without him they wouldn’t even be at this meeting. Besides, in his sports jacket, tie and shiny shoes he lent them an aura of respectability that they could surely use.

As always, Clem ran up to him, throwing her arms about his waist and squeezing hard. And as always, Mr Lark squeezed back. Then he pulled away and asked, ‘Got the petition?’

‘Here,’ said Mio, waving the sheaf of papers at him.

Mr Lark rubbed his hands, eager for the battle to begin. ‘Ready?’ he asked.

Darcy answered for the five of them. ‘Ready as we’ll ever be.’

They stepped inside the council chambers, trying to make as little noise as possible as they went to the public gallery.

Twelve councillors sat at tables positioned in the shape of a horseshoe. The kids checked them out, like prisoners in a dock looking for a sympathetic juror. Nine women and three men. Mio wondered if this was a bad sign. The majority of people who used a skate park were males, so the majority of people sympathetic to their cause would be male. With so many female councillors, the odds were stacked against them.

A few more people sat in the public gallery—a husband and wife team, a man in his thirties and an elderly woman wearing a crocheted hat.

At 6.10 pm the chairperson declared the meeting open and a record of attendance was noted, plus one apology for an absence. Then mention was made to issues resolved from the last council meeting and the items for the evening’s agenda were announced. At the mention of ‘Opening an After School Care Centre’, the husband and wife leant forward in their seats. When the ‘Budget Amendment to the Youth Arts Centre’ was announced the man in his thirties started to nod. Mio wondered what the old lady was here for and was surprised when she reacted to the item, ‘Noise Exemption for the non-complying
outdoor event known as the Rock My Baby Concert’.

The kids grew nervous. Their time was fast approaching. Could they resolve this issue in the few minutes of allocated time? Before they knew it, Public Question Time was announced. Just as suddenly, the chairperson declared, ‘There are no questions from the public.’

Mr Lark leapt to his feet saying, ‘Excuse me, your honour, but a question was submitted this week.’ He had no idea if you called the chair of the meeting your honour, but it sounded good.

The chair readjusted her glasses and announced, ‘Silence in the public gallery.’

Darcy couldn’t contain himself. He stood beside Mr Lark and said, ‘It’s about Wheels Skate Park. We put in a question.’

‘Young man, further disruption from you and you’ll be asked to leave the gallery.’

Mio stood up and raised her hand. She did not speak. She waited. Clem, Bryce and Tong did the same. Soon, six hands were raised to the ceiling, six pairs of eyes glued to the chairperson.

‘Questions related to Development Applications are not accepted,’ she announced.

Mio spoke out, ‘But this is not about a Development Application. The application was approved and the development went ahead.’ She
half-expected the chairperson to have her dragged from the gallery but nothing happened so she proceeded. ‘This is about a change of mind—changing Wheels Park for skateboards, in-line skates, scooters and BMX bikes to Wheels
Skate
board Park, BMX bikes now excluded.’

‘We want to know why,’ said Darcy.

‘And what can be done to change this,’ said Clem.

The chairperson removed her glasses and using them like a pointer she said, ‘The decision was made on safety grounds.’ She jabbed her glasses at Mio. ‘Safety of our community is our first and foremost priority. Our advisors have informed us that allowing BMX riders in the park increases the risk of injury to others. Not to mention the destruction they cause to the park.’

Mr Lark was ready for this. He cleared his throat and said, ‘As a man who has fought for his country, a man who has the great fortune to know these fine young people, I’d like you to consider some possible alternatives.’

The chairperson wriggled in her seat. Although she thought this whole issue was a waste of time, she also understood the debt society owed to these returned service people. Surely she could give him a few minutes of her time. Placing her glasses back on her nose she
leant back and instructed Mr Lark and the Freewheelers to proceed.

In a loud, clear voice Mio read:

1. Establish a code of conduct, or skate park etiquette, for all users.
   
2. Compulsory attendance of all user groups to complete a program in skate park etiquette.
   
3. Develop a schedule or timetable so that different groups have access at different times.
   
4. Either a no-peg rule, or skate park friendly pegs for BMX bikes.
   
5. Promote use of correct safety gear with on-the-spot fines from skate park staff for those who don’t comply.’
   

Mio noticed that some of the council members were nodding and her hopes lifted. She held up the papers and informed them of the 248 signatures of support on the petition. The chairperson tapped the table when she’d finished saying, ‘You have made some very valid points and I am inclined to agree with you. What I propose is…’

Before she could continue there was a commotion at the side of the room. Another group of kids had entered the meeting and heard their proposal, and were now advancing into the room.

The Freewheelers couldn’t believe it. What amazed them wasn’t the fact that each kid carried a skateboard, it was the fact that each kid wore a white bandage, some wrapped around arms, others wrapped around heads, with the occasional leg bound up. One adventurous boy had wrapped his whole body.

‘Order, order,’ called the chairperson as other council members got to their feet.

Tong looked at Mio wide-eyed and asked, ‘What happening?’

Mio bolted from the public gallery, saying, ‘I don’t know but let’s find out.’

As they got closer one of the skateboarders called out, ‘This is what happens when bikes and boards mix.’

Mio strained to see who it was. Dunk Dog! What was he doing here? And how did he know they were presenting at this meeting tonight?

The skateboarders strode up to the Freewheelers and took up a chant: ‘Bikes and boards don’t mix. Bikes and boards don’t mix.’

Three of the council members looked decidedly scared. One stood on a chair yelling for the ‘ruffians to get out’. A couple of the men were trying to usher the kids out the door but the skateboarders stood their ground, clapping and banging their boards in time with the chanting.

‘Bikes and boards don’t mix. Bikes and boards don’t mix.’

Mr Lark was yelling out for everyone to ‘settle down’. The other people in the public gallery made a beeline for an exit. There was total mayhem. It was obvious that the council had no Emergency Response Plan in place.

Mio surveyed the room, anger rippling to the surface of her emotions. ‘They’ve sabotaged us!’ she cried to Darcy. ‘Now we’ll never be able to use Wheels Park.’ Aware that there was nothing to be salvaged at this particular point in time she turned to the others calling, ‘Let’s get out of here,’ and reluctantly they followed her out of the room. As she passed Dunk Dog, Mio stopped and said, ‘This isn’t the end. It’s only the beginning.’ She turned to the others and put out her hand. Four hands piled on top.

Freewheelers!

A sixth hand joined the tower. It was wrinkled and knobbly, scored with veins and smudged with sunspots.

‘Free the wheelers,’ Mr Lark cried.

As Mio turned to glare defiantly at Dunk Dog she noticed something that took her breath away. ‘Where’d you get those?’ she asked.

Dunk Dog brushed her aside and strode to the doorway.

Mio rushed after him repeating, ‘Where’d you get the dog tags?’

She half-expected him to say something like, ‘Lots of people wear dog tags,’ but he didn’t. With his hands on his hips, one foot on his board and the other poised for flight, he said, ‘That’s for me to know and you to find out!’

And he slipped into the night like a moon shadow.

‘After him!’ cried Mio as she followed him in hot pursuit. She could hear Dunk Dog carving up the pavement with his skateboard, the wheels spinning as he claimed the night. Then she realised with a pang that she didn’t have her bike. In fact, no-one had their bike except Bryce.

‘Can I borrow your bike?’ asked Mio, gripping the handlebars before he’d had a chance to say ‘No’.

‘The chain,’ yelled Bryce, staggering alongside the bike and trying to unlock the safety chain.

Mio reeled with impatience. Already the zwooshing skateboard sounds were getting fainter.

‘Mind the dog poo on the tyres,’ said Bryce. ‘I wasn’t watching and found a fresh one.’

By now Mr Lark had joined them. He grabbed Mio’s arm, demanding, ‘What’s going on? Who is he? Why’s he wearing dog tags?’

Mio gasped. Her secret was about to come out. But before she could answer the other skateboarders burst from the building, slammed their boards on the ground and pushed off like a bobsled team at the start of a race. Then they jumped on and hunkered into a streamlined position, cannon-balling down the street.

By now, Bryce had removed the lock. Mio jumped on the saddle, but just as she began to peddle Darcy grabbed the frame and held fast. ‘You can’t go off by yourself. It’s too dangerous. Besides, I’m faster and stronger. Let me.’

Mio hesitated. She knew what Darcy said was true but her grandmother had taught her another truth.
Keizoku koso chikara nari
[Perseverance is power]. And with that thought she gritted her teeth, yanked on the helmet, and thrust on the pedals. ‘No, but thanks.’

‘Mio!’ yelled Darcy.

Mio propelled the bike even faster. She was going to catch Dunk Dog, whatever it took. She’d ride through the night if she had to.

The others were left peering into the darkness.

‘You let her go!’ Clem accused Darcy. ‘You should’ve stopped her.’

‘I couldn’t.’ Darcy snorted saying, ‘At least I tried.’

‘Rolled over more like it,’ said Clem. ‘Just like Bella wanting a pat. Now what are we going to do?’

‘Alert the police,’ said Mr Lark.

Bryce gave him a look that could nuke onions, always cautious of landing in trouble. ‘What are they going to do?’

‘Send out a search car.’

‘As if.’

In the midst of all the squabbling Mrs Jacobs pulled up in the family car, ready to pick up the twins. And sitting beside her, a huge grin on her face, her tail moving like a pendulum in chaos, was Bella.

‘I know!’ suggested Bryce. ‘There’s dog poo all over the tyres. Bella can follow the scent.’

‘Mum!’ Clem raced up to the car, yanked the door open, and grabbed Bella’s lead. ‘I’ll explain later,’ she called as she pulled Bella to the pavement and took off. At the spot where Mio had jumped on the bike Clem stopped, pointed to the ground and said, ‘Find Mio, Bella.’ Bella’s nose hovered over the ground. When she picked up the scent she gave a series of frenzied yelps and leapt off in the direction that Dunk Dog and Mio had gone. ‘Good girl,’ cried Clem running along with her.

Tong and Bryce bolted after them. Darcy tugged Mr Lark towards the car and ordered him to, ‘Get in. Explain to Mum. And follow us!’

Once on the scent Bella bounded along. It was all Clem could do to stay with her. Bella wove back and forth as she went, making sure she stayed on target. Her ears joggled and her tail worked harder than a windscreen wiper in a thunderstorm. Every so often she’d make little grunting noises and give the occasional yap, unable to contain her excitement.

By now, Darcy had caught up, and he, Tong and Bryce followed in Clem’s wake. Cruising behind them, headlights illuminating everything in their path, came Mrs Jacobs and Mr Lark.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Mrs Jacobs, gripping the steering wheel and trying to keep her eyes on the road and the kids at the same time. ‘Why did Mio take off?’

‘I’m not sure,’ said Mr Lark. ‘But when we catch up with her I’m going to give her a stern ticking off, I can assure you. Racing off into the night on her own like that.’

‘Was she upset about the meeting? Was there a fight?’ Expertly Mrs Jacobs negotiated the corner, pleased that the fluoro strips on Bryce’s runners were easily spotted in the beam of the headlights.

Mr Lark shook his head. ‘Yes, to both those
questions. But I don’t think that’s the problem. She wanted to talk to one of the skateboarders.’

‘Oh.’ Then, Mrs Jacobs’ attention was consumed by the task at hand and she stayed silent.

Mio, Dunk Dog and the others were several blocks up ahead. Dunk Dog had tried every trick in the book to shake Mio off but she’d been relentless. She’d ridden up concrete embankments, hopped up and down gutters, swerved her way through some witch’s hats on the road and managed to avoid every pothole.

On congested streets, Dunk Dog and the others had an advantage. They could physically pick up their boards and run round dangerous obstacles, like roadworks, but Mio had to negotiate her way through. And Bryce’s bike was bothering her. She was used to her own bike, small but snappy, that responded to her every touch. Bryce’s bike was older and heavier. The difference was like driving a tank after driving a mini minor. Mio was riding through the darkness and second guessing Dunk Dog at the same time, trying to work out where he was heading. Maybe she could find a shortcut and cut him off?

Some skateboarders peeled away, piking from exhaustion. Others literally fell away, toppling as they mucked up their landings and scooted along the ground. There’d be many a bruised hip, bottom
or thigh in the morning. One skateboarder fell so hard his board shot out from under him. With trigger reflexes and skill Mio bunnyhopped over it, only to hear it slam into a gutter and clatter as it skidded several metres down the road.

Soon, there was only Mio and Dunk Dog left in the race.

Both were conserving energy, using forward momentum to propel themselves, rather than their usual pushing and pedalling actions.

Up ahead, Mio could see a person bending down to pick something up. She couldn’t tell if they were a man or a woman, young or old; all she could see was that Dunk Dog was headed straight for them.

‘Stop!’ she called.

Mio couldn’t believe her eyes as Dunk Dog skated onto a bus stop bench, then leapt, the board sticking to his feet as he sailed over the person’s head. The old man didn’t move. He seemed to rust with shock. Mio swerved, shouting ‘sorry’ over her shoulder as she went in pursuit. She could tell Dunk Dog was tiring. His t-shirt was soaked with sweat and he stood cruising more than pushing on his board. More and more frequently, he glanced over his shoulder to check out where she was. Mio noticed with satisfaction that every time he did so his board wobbled and swerved and he lost ground.

Further back, Bella was like a dog possessed. She was snuffling and barking and grunting and puffing as she followed the scent. Clem ran with her, trying to stop the lead from getting tangled or caught as they went. She already wore a crown of leaves from when Bella had run under a low branch and Clem had had no time to duck. She had a stitch in her side and was struggling, so that now, although Bella was still hot on the track, she was also having to pull Clem along at the same time and this was slowing down their progress. Instead of giving up, Bella grew more determined, digging in with her paws and lowering her belly to the ground to shorten her legs and increase her strength.

‘Swap,’ said Darcy, running beside them. His hair and face glistened with sweat, but Clem knew he was right. If they were going to catch up with Mio, it was Darcy’s turn to take the lead. Trying not to stumble she slipped it over her wrist and held it out to Darcy, who snatched for it and looped it over his hand, barely missing his stride. It was a grateful Clem who staggered to a halt and watched Tong and Bryce overtake her.

Mrs Jacobs drew into the kerb, yelling ‘Get in’ as Mr Lark reached back and swung the door open. Clem’s chest burned. Her lungs felt raw, but she did manage to yell out ‘Go!’ before collapsing in her seat and clipping on her seatbelt.

A relieved Mrs Jacobs took off. At least one of these children was now safe. All she had to worry about were the other four! Up ahead, she could see the brightly lit sign of a service station. She glanced at the fuel dial, relieved to see she wasn’t on empty and wouldn’t have to stop.

Dunk Dog had spotted the service station, too, and made his way through the petrol bowsers. Mio followed, looking like she was doing a sequence of pirouettes as she tried to close in on Dunk Dog and avoid the pumps at the same time. At one point she got close enough to reach for his hair, but with a shriek like a war cry he twisted away, leaving just a few strands clutched in her fist.

‘Stop!’ called Mio.

Dunk Dog hurtled down a ramp to a lower level, then headed for a metal fence. He crouched, flung his arms into the night sky and jumped, his skateboard whizzing under the fence, to nail the perfect landing on the street below and roll away.

Mio prayed there weren’t any cars as she pulled up, up, up and sailed over the fence, to land with the grace of a duck on water on the other side.

Darcy could see what was up ahead and let go of Bella’s lead. She shot under the fence and landed on the road, rolling a couple of times like a dirty snowball, before once again finding her feet. She stood for a moment, shaking herself to get her
bearings. With a hop, step and jump Darcy joined her, scooped up the lead and they resumed the chase.

Mrs Jacobs accelerated up to Tong and Bryce then slammed on the brakes. ‘Get in!’ she roared. Drained to the core, they gratefully accepted the ride and flung themselves into the back seat with Clem. Mr Lark wondered half-jokingly if Mrs Jacobs was going to take the ramp and jump the fence too, but she was familiar with this place and took the side road instead, pulling into the street below with barely seconds wasted. Clem made a mental note to ask her mother where she’d learnt to drive like a racing car driver but still short of breath, she stayed silent. Mrs Jacobs, however, used to her own six kids and head counts, was telling herself,
Three down, two to go
.

‘There they are,’ cried Mr Lark. Then suddenly he pointed to the right. ‘And there they go!’