Authors: J A Mawter
As Mio dragged herself down the stairs she came face to face with Mrs Burridge. Darcy, Bryce and Tong were standing in a line, their heads bowed, doing their best to look contrite.
‘Mio Shinokazi!’ exclaimed Mrs Burridge. ‘Not you, again.’
Mio cringed, wondering when Mrs Burridge would ever get her name right. She’d been at The Met nearly two years now. You’d think she could pronounce Shino
zaki
.
Mrs Burridge glanced up when Clem came through the door. ‘And Miss Jacobs as well. To be expected when your brother’s about.’
‘We can explain,’ began Clem.
‘Oh you shall, young lady. You most definitely shall. It’s past five. You know the new safe-school rule.’ Mrs Burridge clasped and unclasped her hands as she ordered the girls to ‘stand with the others’.
A miserable Mio shuffled over, thinking her day couldn’t get any worse, could it?
‘Well?’ said Mrs Burridge walking along the line as if she was a sergeant inspecting the guard.
No-one said a word. They’d all agreed that they’d do anything to keep this a secret and spare Mr Lark further heartache.
‘Tell the truth and you’ll get off lightly. Turn this into an interrogation and I’ll assume you are guilty.’
‘We left something in a locker,’ ventured Clem.
‘Something we needed,’ said Darcy.
‘Belongs to a friend,’ said Bryce.
Mrs Burridge’s nostrils pinched, then flared. ‘What did you leave in the locker?’
‘Black bag.’ Tong made a small square with his fingers to indicate the size.
Mrs Burridge noticed that everyone had spoken except Mio. She moved down the line to stand in front of the subdued girl. ‘And what’s in the black bag, Mio?’
Mio stared at the ground. How could she answer this without telling a lie?
Mrs Burridge planted herself in front of Mio, her arms crossed, lips crushed together. Mio’s stomach
clenched so hard her muscles cramped. But when Mrs Burridge repeated, ‘What is in the bag, Mio?’ she knew she had found a way out. ‘There’s nothing in the bag, Mrs Burridge,’ she answered, lifting her head and taking comfort from the fact she was telling the truth. She held out the pouch. ‘See?’
At the sight of it Mrs Burridge whooshed like an angry camel. ‘You mean to say you broke the rules and entered the school all for the sake of an empty pouch?’
‘Yes, Mrs Burridge,’ said Mio, her voice ringing clear.
‘Yes, Mrs Burridge,’ echoed the others.
Mrs Burridge hesitated. Something was not right. But she was already late for a meeting with the school accountant and couldn’t afford to waste any more time. ‘Very well, then,’ she said. ‘However, tomorrow morning I want each and every one of you to hand in a one-page essay on The Importance of Rules for School Safety.’
Now the voices did not ring so clear. ‘Yes, Mrs Burridge.’ Grabbing their bikes they trudged towards the gates.
‘That sucks!’ said Darcy.
‘Makes me so mad I could scream,’ agreed Clem.
‘Kick parked cars,’ said Bryce but at the look of horror on Clem’s face he added, ‘Only joking. Freewheelers don’t kick parked cars.’
‘You know what I need?’ said Mio, at the mention of Freewheelers. ‘I need to ride.’
‘Me too,’ said Tong, throwing on his helmet and jumping on his bike.
‘Let’s go-o-o-o!’ yelled Darcy.
And with that they all leapt on their bikes. Mio took the lead, and with teeth gritted and eyes full-beam ahead, she raced down the street, leaning into the corner like a pro. The others followed, enjoying the way the ground loomed to meet them, then fell away as they straightened up. Mio picked up speed. Short sharp breaths punctured the air as she turned her face to the wind. This was one of the few times when Mio felt truly alive, free.
Jiyu. Jiyu—to behave as she pleased
.
Not having to consider others.
No limits, no rules, no right or wrong. Just free.
Darcy caught up and pedalled abreast of her, his grin so wide that his gums showed, like he’d hit
g
-force. Neither of them spoke; they didn’t have to. Bikes and bodies were moulded as one. In tandem they took a curve and in tandem they straightened, heading for a wall that dropped to a street below.
Tong kept his eyes on the two ahead, admiring the precision, the flow, to their riding. It was perfect, as though heaven and earth had changed places. Tong bent his head and started cycling
harder, intent on securing his own place in heaven. His cheeks stung and his ears whistled; even a runny nose was cause for celebration. His lungs filled with air and he lifted his head to the clear sky.
Clem and Bryce lagged further behind, content to make this moment their own and not compete with the others. But while Darcy and Mio rode side by side these two played tag, at one time one ahead then the other overtaking while that one fell behind, only to repeat the move over and over again, like a two-man team at a velodrome.
Mio and Darcy’s landings were perfect. They touched down, their wheels flattening, then sprung up and propelled forward in such a way that it could only be described as lyrical. Laughter tumbled from Mio’s mouth, like bubbles bursting. Which is exactly how she felt—all that tension, all that worry was evaporating in a volley of sound.
‘Good one, Mio.’ Tong had finally reached them.
Together they rode, low on fear and fired by magic, as they zig-zagged cracks and leapt gaps, titanium titans flying through the air. Nothing would stop them—not the impossible peak-hour traffic, not the patchwork of potholes or the grooves of metal grates, not the oil slicks or puddles or lousy patch-up road jobs. On a flat stretch they eased, content to coast while the other two caught up.
Without realising it, they’d ended up not far from Wheels Skate Park. It was receiving its finishing touches before the grand opening. ‘Let’s check it out,’ said Darcy, heading for the huge construction. They stood outside the security fence watching some workmen put the final screws into the inside spectator barrier whilst others finished the landscaping.
The park spread out further than an Olympic swimming pool. It looked like a lunar landscape with its ramps, pipes, trick boxes, pyramid, handrails and stairs resembling the moon’s terminator and seas, craters and mountains and battered highlands. Workmen crawled all over it, checking for obstacles or damaged coping—the material on the lip of a ramp or a pool—that might impede safety.
‘Can’t wait to try all that,’ said Darcy pointing to the half-pipe, ramps, banks and bowls.
‘Me either,’ said Bryce. ‘Looks rad.’
‘What rad?’ asked Tong.
Clem laughed. ‘Rad means radical. It also means Bryce is trying to act, like, real cool.’
Bryce shrugged. ‘Just getting into the spirit of the occasion.’
‘Speaking of spirit!’ said Mio. Her words were clipped, sounding like they’d popped from her mouth.
A group of skaters, led by Dunk Dog, appeared from nowhere, carving up the pavement as if it was their own. Boards swished and swizzled through the air.
‘They sure do dominate that third dimension,’ said Clem.
‘Fourth dimension more like it,’ said Mio.
‘Fourth dimension?’ asked Clem.
‘Yeah. Where you exist on a higher plane of space and time. Think three-dimensional object projected in multiple planes.’
Bryce joined in. ‘What if they design a fourth-dimension rollercoaster? Awesome!’
Clem thought about something her mother had once tried to explain to her, that the fourth dimension was the bridge between religion and science—the place where physical matter and psychic phenomena could meet. It had been all very confusing at the time but watching these skateboarders making gravity their own, made it easier for Clem to understand.
And then the spell was broken.
‘Oy!’ yelled Dunk Dog. ‘Cop this.’
A clod of earth flew through the air, pelting Mio on the arm.
Darcy turned just in time to see the dirt explode in Mio’s face.
Mio was spitting, swiping at her mouth and shaking her head when a hail of sods flew through the air. Some landed randomly to scatter on the ground but some hit their mark, so that Bryce and Darcy were now also sporting terracotta splotches.
‘Hey!’ Darcy checked out the terrain. He could see Dunk Dog and the skateboarders near a huge pile of soil and construction waste. Most of the lumps were soft and crumpled on impact, but when mixed with clumps of clay they twanged off the body, leaving dark red welts.
It was raining dirt.
The Freewheelers were stuck. They had no access to ammunition of their own whilst the skateboarders had an unlimited supply, as well as a fierce determination to keep the bike riders off their turf.
‘Come on,’ yelled Darcy, taking refuge behind a huge pile of lumber.
Clem, Tong, Bryce and Mio huddled next to him. With regular monotony lumps of dirt hit the timber and shattered all around them.
‘What we do?’ asked Tong, ducking under his arm for protection.
‘Not much we can do,’ said Bryce with a grimace. ‘They’ve got all the ammo.’
Clem agreed. ‘Maybe we should wait it out. They’ll get sick of it soon.’
But Mio had other ideas. Her day had gone from bad to worse to dreadful and if she didn’t do something to stop the slide, the night was promising to be an absolute horror. She’d noticed that Dunk Dog and his skaters were grouped together and were all facing the Freewheelers—which meant no-one was watching their rear. Which meant that was where she was heading. Mio skirted around some work trucks, making sure that she remained concealed. Darcy watched her progress and frowned, wondering what she was going to do and whether she wanted him to help
her. But one glance at her determined movements answered that.
Mio crawled along the ground on her belly, behind a spectator stand and past a portable generator, till she was almost directly behind the group of skateboarders.
Please be careful
, prayed Clem, squashing her instincts to call out so as not to give Mio away. She wondered how one puny girl was going to take on an aggro group of skateboarders.
‘I’m going to help her,’ said Bryce but as soon as he stuck his head up,
thwack
!, the skateboarders did their best to knock it off.
Tong dragged Bryce back down, telling him to ‘Stay still,’ while Clem brushed the dirt out of his eyes.
‘You okay?’ asked Darcy.
‘Just.’
‘What’s she up to?’ said Darcy through gritted teeth as he tried to catch a glimpse of Mio.
‘I’d tell you but I’m rather partial to my head,’ said Bryce.
‘She’s going to get hurt.’ Darcy eased himself up to peek through a gap in the slats.
‘See her?’ asked Bryce.
‘Yup.’
‘What’s she doing?’
‘Running in front of a steamroller.’
‘What?’ Both Bryce and Clem flung themselves to look through the slat at the same time, bumping heads and adding to the injury tally.
Sure enough, there was Mio, standing in front of the steamroller, waving her arms to flag it down.
Clem nudged Bryce aside, saying, ‘I don’t believe it. She’s going to get squashed.’
‘Me no look,’ said Tong. He scrunched up his eyes and braced himself, ready for her agonised howls.
Another round of dirt found its mark.
By now the light was fading and the landscapers were packing up. ‘Why don’t they stop them?’ said Clem, her voice quivering with frustration.
‘They don’t have to,’ announced Darcy, giving a wry smile as he peeped over the lumber pile.
‘Why not?’ asked Bryce.
‘Look.’
What they saw resembled Hannibal riding into battle on his elephant. They saw a big beefy driver at the wheel of a steamroller. And they saw Mio, perched beside him and pointing. Together they rolled across the grass, the drum flattening everything in its path. Closer and closer they got to the skateboarders.
Suddenly, the air was rent by the blast of a horn. The skateboarders whirled around, their faces going from smug, to shock, to fear. The
steamroller came nearer and nearer. The skateboarders froze, then leapt to their feet at the second blast of the warning signal.
‘Clear off!’ yelled a deep, gruff voice.
‘Get lost!’ yelled a high-pitched voice as a swathe of black hair came into view and a tiny hand reached for the horn.
The skateboarders grabbed their boards and took off. All except for Dunk Dog, who stood his ground, saying, ‘Make me!’
Mio reached for the horn and rammed it down. The third blast shook the air, making Dunk Dog jump. He flicked up his board, poised for flight, but glared at Mio. The driver rose from his seat making ready to leap down, fist raised, when she shouted, ‘Scoot!’
This time there was no hesitation. Dunk Dog bolted after his mates with Bryce’s ‘Go, Mio!’ ringing in his ears.
The Freewheelers watched as Mio and the driver shared a hearty laugh. They were still laughing when they were joined by the others.
‘That was amazing,’ said Clem.
‘Incredible,’ agreed Darcy.
‘Very happy you save us,’ said Tong.
Bryce wandered over to Mio, who was still in the driver’s cabin, and said, ‘That’s a first. Saved by a stampeding steamroller.’
The driver chuckled as he turned to Mio and held out a weather-beaten hand. ‘Glad to be of service.’ Mio shook his hand, once, twice. His face registered surprise to find steel under such delicacy. Mio smiled to herself. All those years of karate, striking at the
makiwara
to strengthen and condition her body, had paid off, so that her hands and wrists were now hard-soft.
‘
Do-mo
,’ said Mio slowly, bowing deeply. ‘Thank you.’ Mio hopped down and stood back whilst the driver started up his steamroller again.
‘Be careful of that lot,’ he said. ‘Think they own the park.’
‘We will,’ said Darcy with a wave.
‘Thanks!’
As the steamroller headed on its way Darcy plucked Mio off her feet and swung her around, saying, ‘You were amazing.’
Mio shrugged herself out of his grip, irritated to be treated like a doll.
‘Mio Shinozaki should be Mio
Kamikaze
,’ announced Bryce, giving her a slap on the back.
‘You sure took them by surprise,’ agreed Clem.
Mio gave herself a shake, saying, ‘Took myself by surprise, too.’
‘Dunk Dog nearly wet himself,’ said Darcy, with a grin.
‘He did, didn’t he?’ said Mio, her face glowing.
It was now Tong’s turn to come forward. ‘
Cám ón chi
[thank you],’ he said with a bow. They stood apart, equally uncomfortable with such public displays of affection.
As night was fast approaching the Freewheelers grabbed their bikes and headed for home. Not only was there homework and music practice to do and dinner to eat—there was also the small detail of Mrs Burridge’s essay!
Next morning the Freewheelers met at the Van. They needed talk time and thinking time before heading off to school.
‘Recognise any of them last night?’ asked Darcy as he sat munching on a sesame bagel.
‘No,’ said Mio, calmly sipping miso soup from a thermos.
Clem shook her head, her own mouth full of seeds and dough.
‘No,’ said Tong as he picked a slice of green onion from the top of his steaming noodle soup then popped it into his mouth. The Van filled with the aroma of lime and basil and fish sauce.
The rich smell of the broth made Bryce’s mouth water and he cursed himself for forgetting to grab something for breakfast. Cara, his dad’s new wife, used to make sure he ate something before he headed off to school but with the night-time antics
of Liv, their new baby, any extra shut-eye in the morning was a welcome relief, and a cooked breakfast had become a thing of the past.
Clem opened her backpack, removed another bagel and handed it to Bryce. ‘Take it,’ she said.
Bryce hesitated, but Clem could see him swallow with hunger. ‘I’m full,’ she said, handing it over.
Bryce took the offering and broke off a chunk, trying to chew slowly but desperate to gobble it up. ‘So, what’s their problem?’ he asked.
‘The usual,’ said Bryce, breaking off a second piece of bagel. ‘Skaters versus BMXers. Simple.’
Mio frowned, then drummed her fingers on her thermos. ‘I’ve got this feeling…Don’t you think that my locker and Mr Lark’s medals make it more personal than that?’
‘No. None of those skaters go to our school,’ said Darcy. ‘How can it be personal? I think you’re reading far too much into it. We should forget about the fight and concentrate on getting back Mr Lark’s dog tags.’
‘I agree,’ said Bryce, and Clem and Tong nodded.
But Mio wasn’t so sure. She couldn’t say why those two things were linked to the skaters and she couldn’t say how, but unease tugged at the corners of her mind like a persistent toothache. As Mio bent to loosen her shoe the strap gave way. She
stared at the strap as if it was a snake. Back home, to break the strap of your
zori
sandal meant bad luck. Her hand slid into her pocket to feel the reassuring outline of her
Hello Kitty omamori
, or good-luck amulet. She hoped it hadn’t lost its protection.
Darcy interrupted her reverie by saying, ‘I’ve been thinking about those tags. It has to be someone in our History class. They’re the only ones who know you had them. Can you think of who it might be? Someone with a grudge maybe?’
Mio stared into space as she gave the question her full attention. She didn’t have any enemies that she could think of. On the contrary, she’d been relieved at how welcoming everyone had been when she started at The Met the previous year. ‘Can’t think of anyone,’ she replied.
‘Jealous maybe?’ asked Clem.
Mio shook her head.
Clem snorted. ‘Well, you’ve got that wrong. Lots of kids would like to be you, Mio. Brains, beauty and…’
‘Brawn,’ joked Darcy, circling Mio’s upper arm with the fingers of one hand.
‘Nuh, uh. I was going to say bandy legs.’
Clem ducked as Mio threw her thermos lid at her. If there was one thing Mio hated about her body it was her legs! How she longed to be tall and
willowy like the
seiryu
, or Japanese maple tree. ‘No-one could possibly be jealous of me,’ she said in a firm voice and stood up to put an end to the conversation. ‘Time to go.’
When the kids arrived at school they keyed their bikes into the bike rack and headed for their lockers to sort out their books for class.
Clem was elbow deep in papers and rubbish and exercise books when she heard a gasp beside her.
‘Oh!’
It was Mio.