Extreme! (13 page)

When Mio glanced over she couldn’t believe her eyes. They’d arrived. There was Mr Lark waving his placard:
BMX: Recreation not Segregation
. That’s so-o-o-o Mr Lark, thought Mio with a smile. And next to him was Darcy waving his sign which read
Arrest me. I ride a bike
. Provocative, but appropriate. Her eyes jumped to Clem whose slogan read
Bike, Blades and Boards Unite,
then to Bryce’s
Spoked
. Simple but eloquent. And last was Tong’s
Bike Rite
. She wondered if that was one of his famous spelling mistakes but decided she liked it anyway. It worked just as well as ‘Ride’ or ‘Right’.

Mr Lark and the Freewheelers began to walk the perimeter of the park. The skateboarders turned to watch the procession. A lump formed in
Mio’s throat. The peaceful protest was working. She checked out the police officers poised at the gate entrance; they seemed guarded but relaxed.

‘So far, so good,’ Mio whispered to herself.

And then she saw another three cars pull up. She braced herself for trouble. She expected to see a lot more skateboarders tumble out, a whole new backup support crew. What she saw was definitely a back-up support crew, but a crew of a different kind.

Mr Jacobs was the first to leap out, then Mrs Jacobs and the rest of the Jacobs tribe. Mrs Jacobs opened the boot and one by one handed everyone their placards. Mio laughed out loud to see what the Jacobs clan had to say. First was Jonas, tossing his favourite ball in one hand and his
We’re on a Roll
placard clutched in the other. Next came Mr Jacobs with his
BMX Parents Pay Taxes Too
, and five-year-old Bruno sucking his thumb and proclaiming he was
BMX User Friendly
. Four-year-old Tim could barely hold up his sign as he still carried his favourite blankie in his arms, but Mio could just make out the words
Parks are for People
. She laughed again. So much thought had gone into their slogans. Mrs Jacobs carried the baby, Drew, in one arm and waved her
Mutual Respect
placard in the other. And Bella ran between legs, barking every so often to show her support, her protest coat saying, of course,
BMX Beagle
.

From the second car came Bryce’s dad and step-mum, Cara, baby Olivia clutched in her arms. Mr Tarrant held his placard aloft and as he waved it from side to side Mio smiled at the appropriateness of it all:
More Skateparks. Less Street Kids.
And she laughed at Cara’s placard which said
BMXers need a home.
Mio watched as Bryce waved to his family and felt a stab of pain. Only a few months ago Bryce was the family outcast. Today, it was her.

And finally, from the third car came Tong’s beaming Auntie Kim-Ly and Uncle Hai. Their signs were made of white cardboard taped to two sticks, but the simplicity of design didn’t matter as their message was loud and clear:
Riding Bikes = Healthy Childrens
. As they hurried over to join the others, the Freewheelers cheered. Between them they had their own protest rally.

Mio watched as the families mingled together outside the enclosure, united in their desire to keep their kids off the street. The council officials and government member watched, too, surprised by this show of family solidarity. But one family was missing and the emptiness of their space matched the emptiness of Mio’s heart.

The skateboarders and skaters were restless. This was not what they’d hoped for the opening
of their park. They began to flip and twirl their boards in their hands. Bryce read the mood turn. It was time to try something desperate. He walked behind the utilities block and retrieved his bike from where he’d hidden it. Slowly, he wheeled it inside the skatepark and held it out to the crowd. A gasp went up, then low-volume grumblings. He grabbed the microphone from the chairwoman and in a loud voice he said, ‘This is bashed and battered but it keeps this real.’ Then he invited everybody to, ‘Join me in my protest rap. It’s called “’Cause That’s Where We At”.’

Everyone was caught by surprise by this turn of events and no-one moved as Bryce sang:

‘What we live through we are, neva mind the scars

Dints on our frame, cracks in our name

Now raise your voices and sing along with me

Now raise your voices and repeat after me

Ev’ry dent, ev’ry dint

Ev’ry scratch, ev’ry crack

Let’s not be jealous

’Cause that’s where we at

Doesn’t matter if the dints are there,

means we’ve been a bit devil-may-care

Scars in our heart like marks on the ground,

grinds and picks and marks so profound

Ev’ry dent, ev’ry dint

Ev’ry scratch, ev’ry crack

Let’s not be jealous

’Cause that’s where we at

Some people need to quit being hate demons

specially when they got no good reason

We all use balance and self-belief,

ridin’ together will be a big relief’.

Mr Lark turned to the others and laughed. ‘Bit different to the protest songs of our day: “Give Peace a Chance,” “Blowin’ in the Wind” and Cat Stevens’ “Peace Train”.’ But the song served its purpose. The boarders and skaters and scooter riders grew still. Most took notice, for here was someone speaking their language.
We all use balance and self-belief, ridin’ together will be a big relief.

Some of them agreed and joined in. It was a thin chorus, but a start…

Ev’ry dent, ev’ry dint

Ev’ry scratch, ev’ry crack

Let’s not be jealous

’Cause that’s where we at.

Mio burst with pride. This was everything she could have hoped for. Everything, except that two people were missing. From the corner of her eye Mio could see Dunk Dog swarming through his pack, urging those singing to ‘Shut up’. But then she noticed another car pull up. As much as she wanted to get to Dunk Dog, she stood frozen as she recognised the car. Her parents! They must have read her letter and the JEAAG email.

She watched as her father climbed from the car, stiff with dignity. She watched as her mother clucked about him, then stood back deferentially. And she watched as her father removed a placard from the passenger seat and held it up.

jūnin toiro

Mr Shinozaki stared at his daughter, knowing she was the only person in the crowd who would understand.

‘What’s it mean?’ asked Bryce, who was still at the mike.

Every head in the crowd turned to see where he was pointing.

Mio set her sights on Dunk Dog. ‘Tell you later!’

Despite the success of the protest, Mio had unfinished business.

‘Dunk Dog!’ she yelled into the mike, throwing out the words like a challenge.

Heads turned to check where Dunk Dog was. They recognised him by the familiar Dogtown beanie on his head. Dunk Dog ignored her, threw his skateboard on the ground and pushed off.

Catching Bryce off-guard, Mio plucked the handlebars from his hands and swung onto the saddle calling, ‘Got to see a dog about a tag.’

At the sight of someone on a bike the police at the gate jerked to attention.

Mio took off after Dunk Dog. Despite a few
jeers and catcalls, there were many cheers and whistles, too.

The police officer grabbed his loudspeaker, calling ‘Riders. Riders! Stop!’

Unsure of what was going on, the council members stayed in their seats wondering if this was part of the official proceedings. However, when the local member, Bronwyn Lindsay, approached Bryce and asked, ‘Is this some sort of skills display?’, this gave him an idea.

Bryce grinned as he nodded, grabbed the mike and started his patter. From his time on the streets he’d hung with enough skateboarders to know the names of the basic tricks. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to this artistic display of skateboarding and BMX riding. On skateboard we ha-a-a-ave Dunk Dog! Most dangerous man on four wheels, capable of leaping whole trees in a single bound, no stairs too high, no curve too tight or ramp too steep. This boy can ride anywhere.’

Screams, ear-piercing whistles and a boom of applause filled the air. Dunk Dog bowed and waved as he rode past on one leg. By now Bryce had worked up to full throttle. ‘Watch him cock that leg! And on the bike, proving size is no indication of talent, is Miss Mio Shinozaki; rules the ramps like a Japanese surfer girl rules the waves.’

Go wavedancer!
said Mio to herself.

Whooo-hooo!
What they lacked in numbers they made up for in enthusiasm as the BMX support crew let fly.

To his left Bryce could see a police officer reach for his car radio and reel off a series of commands. Bryce wondered how long before the reinforcements arrived, then immediately forgot things as he resumed his place at the mike. ‘Starting off the display is Dunk Dog.’

Dunk Dog approached a rail, bent, crouched, then kicked down on his board. Up he went and up went the board. Up, up, up. With his knees close to his chest he levelled in mid-air, then landed and rolled away.

‘What a superb ollie to start the demonstration.’

Kids clapped. Even councillors joined in.

Bryce started to relax and enjoy himself, unlike Mio who was intent on catching up with Dunk Dog. As she approached the rail she crouched down low, then exploded up, pulling upwards and back on the handlebars so that her tyres rose in the air and she sailed over the rail.

‘Beautiful bunnyhop,’ announced Bryce.

The Freewheelers and their families roared.

Dunk Dog was ready to battle, keen to put Mio in her place. He upped the ante, this time doing an ollie but flicking his board in mid-air so that it
rotated 180 degrees, sliding his front foot to the nose, before landing forward and dismounting.

‘Lovely kickflip to noseslide,’ said Bryce.

Mio responded in kind. She rode up a kerb and leapt, flicking her handlebars as she sailed through the air. Pinching the seat with her knees, she caught the handles on landing and rolled away.

Someone from the crowd yelled, ‘You go, girl.’ Bryce couldn’t tell if it was from a skateboard or BMX supporter but it didn’t really matter. Mio was winning over the crowd! Spurred by her success, she headed for a half-pipe at speed, bunnyhopped into the air, rotated her handlebars 180 degrees and crossed her arms.

‘Bar spin to X-Up!’ announced Bryce.

Mio landed and rode one-handed, waving to everyone.

By now, sirens could be heard in the distance. Unease went through the crowd like fleas through a pack of dogs.

Tim and Drew Jacobs began to whimper.

Dunk Dog got up some speed, popped his ollie, then twisted his shoulders and shifted his weight so his whole body and board rotated in the opposite direction before he landed and rolled away.

‘One-eighty,’ cried Bryce.

Slowing down, Dunk Dog approached a railing, ollied, and landed so that half the board was on
either side of the rail, before grinding his way along. Then with some slight pressure to the back foot he lifted the nose and came out of the grind, landing back on the ground. Like Mio he did this twice, except that on his second time he threw himself into the opposite stance before landing.

‘Fifty Fifty and Fifty Fifty Switch Out.’

Mio and Dunk Dog rode as if they were oblivious to each other, but in reality, each knew exactly where the other was in the skate park and what trick they had just pulled off.

The sirens were getting louder. Tim and Drew were growing more and more distressed and Bruno added his cries, triggering an answering wail from Liv. From past experiences at air shows and firework displays the Jacobs knew that trying to settle their boys would be impossible and it would be best to go home. They ushered their little ones towards their car, abandoning placards in their haste. Cara fastened a screaming Liv into her baby seat whilst Bryce’s dad revved the engine. This was no place for hysterical babies or children.

‘I’ll take care of this lot,’ yelled Mr Lark, waving the families on their way.

Reluctantly, the Jacobs and Tarrants took off.

Tong could see the panic in his auntie’s eyes. As a child she had heard many sirens, sirens warning
of bombings and explosions. Sirens meant loss and death. They meant childhood regimentation, propaganda and communism. For Tong, sirens were different. He wondered if they’d finished installing the sirens back home, the Tsunami Early Warning System they’d been working on before he left. Tong’s uncle could not conceal his fear any longer and screeched for Tong to join them in their car. Auntie Kim-Ly already lay on the back seat, terrified.

Tong felt torn, but because he knew that today there would be no bombs and his auntie and uncle would be all right, he sidled up to Bryce, and signalled to his family to be on their way. Soon there was only one Freewheeler family left. Mr and Mrs Shinozaki skirted the perimeter of Wheels Skate Park, entered through the gate and joined their daughter’s friends.

‘Thanks,’ said Clem. ‘This will mean the world to Mio.’

Showing his respect for Clem’s wisdom, Mr Shinozaki bowed.

The policeman with the loudspeaker was relieved when flashing lights appeared in the distance and car after car approached. To the kids inside the skate park, it looked like over-kill, like shooting a mosquito with a machine gun. All this for one kid on a bike?!

Both Dunk Dog and Mio realised that time was running out. Each longed to out-perform the other but where one wanted to be ‘Top Dog’ the other wanted recognition for, and acceptance of, her sport. Plus, there was the small added matter of some dog tags…

Dunk Dog went for a four trick line. First he jumped at 90 degrees, pushing his tail into a ledge before sliding and popping out to ride straight into another kick flip. From that he shifted position. Now, his front foot was on the nose of the board and his back foot in the middle. Then he dropped in towards a pyramid, moving at a reasonable speed. He turned, popped up the board and flipped, landing back on the board and shifting his weight forward. And last but not least he headed for a low railing, popped up to land tail first, then nose down he went for a grind, riding off and out at the end of it.

‘Tailslide to Kickflip, to Nollie Flip and Feeble Grind!’ Bryce was struck by the poetry of it all, one move flowing into the other. So this is what they mean by poetry-in-motion, he thought.

When he had finished, Dunk Dog stayed on his board and approached Mio with a step-pivot-step-pivot move over and over again till he stopped centimetres in front of her.

‘And Dunk Dog “Walks the Dog!”’ announced Bryce, to an eruption of cheers.

Mio did not flinch. Eyeballing Dunk Dog she said, ‘You’ve got something of mine and I want them back. Give me the dog tags.’

‘No.’

‘They belonged to William Lark. They’re mine.’

‘Mine now.’

He’d admitted it! As Mio peered at the tags, she could just make out the letters ‘L A R K’ engraved up the top.

‘No, they’re not!’ Mio’s face grew more resolute. ‘Tell you what? I’ll take your feeble grind and double it—grind for twice the distance. If I pull it off, I get the dog tags. Fail, and you keep them.’ Mio could see Dunk Dog thinking this through.

‘But they’re mine already.’ He scrunched up his face as he asked, ‘What else you got to lose?’

Mio put her hand into her coat pocket and pulled out…

‘A doll!’ Dunk Dog eyed the spherical doll with its red painted body, white eyes, but with only one pupil filled in.

‘You use it to make a wish and your wish will come true.’

Dunk Dog laughed as he took it from her. ‘Well, I wish that bike riders are never allowed in this park. More to the point, I wish that
you
are never allowed in this park.’

‘Me?’ asked Mio. ‘What have I done to you?’

Dunk Dog sneered as he said, ‘It’s not what you’ve done, it’s what you do. What you
always
do.’

‘So, what do I always do?’ repeated Mio.

Dunk Dog spat at her feet. ‘You dominate. At the drain pipe you always dominate.’ Then he turned his back and walked away.

Mio ran after him and grabbed his arm, saying, ‘I don’t get it.’

‘Your kind never do.’ Dunk Dog spat again. ‘Think about it. You dominate at the pipe. You dominate when you chase me through the park, when you chase me after the meeting. You always act like you’re trying to be Top Dog. You can’t help yourself, but I can. There can only be one Dog.’

Mio took a step back, saying, ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’

‘How ’bout the petition, then? That was you.’

At the mention of the petition alarm bells went off in Mio’s head. ‘How do you know I put together the petition?’

At this, Dunk Dog realised he’d said far too much and chose not to answer.

Mio’s mind was racing, flicking through possibilities. Was he friends with someone from school? If so, who? And why would they be in with Dunk Dog? And then she thought of something and asked, ‘Know anything about hate emails?’

Caught off-guard Dunk Dog shook his head and said, ‘Wasn’t me.’

Another admission.

‘Who then?’

‘Not telling.’

From the stone-like expression on his face, Mio knew she wasn’t going to get any more out of Dunk Dog this way. It wasn’t words that would lure him, it was action. She pulled out her mobile phone and held it out saying, ‘Add this to my offer.’

Dunk Dog made no effort to take the phone.

‘Fair bet,’ said Mio.

Dunk Dog glanced around the park before pointing to some steep stairs with a handrail down the centre. ‘Only if you grind down them.’

Mio sized up the railing. Not only was it longer than the feeble grind Dunk Dog had to do, it was also a lot steeper. Fall from that and they could scatter her ashes under the cherry blossom tree at home. Without hesitation, though, Mio said, ‘Yes.’