Extreme! (8 page)

After a night during which she dreamt she was being buried by an avalanche of abusive emails, a tired and listless Mio made her way to the skate park. She expected to find it swarming with workers but it was deserted now that the landscaping was complete, except for one man who was inspecting the coping and landing ledges in preparation for the opening.

Mio watched as he got down on his hands and knees, brushing away imaginary specks of dirt, every so often placing his weight on the edges to see if they withstood the pressure. Tong arrived next and came to join her. Together they surveyed the skate park, aware of how many kids back home would love it. Tong was particularly taken
with the half-pipe. It curved so high that at the top you could touch the sky. His feet itched to pedal out there and give it a go.

Bryce pulled up at the same time as Clem and Darcy. The five stood astride their bikes checking out the bowls and ledges and pipes and rails. Paradise. They took in the shiny new spectator benches, the water tap, graffiti walls and the area with picnic tables and amenities.

‘It looks awesome,’ breathed Darcy.

‘Our own place to have fun,’ said Clem.

Bryce pulled a wry face. ‘Finally.’

‘Not finally.’ Mio’s lips thinned. ‘Only maybe.’ She could feel the excitement, the anger, the rage building inside her, like a fireball. Her nostrils flared. How she longed to lose herself in that park. Mio gripped her handlebars so hard that her fingers ached. All the injustices of the last couple of days sizzled to the surface.

With a voice that sounded like a firecracker going off, she yelled, ‘Feed the fire.’ And with that she burnt rubber. In the space of a few pedals she approached the open gate and sped through.

She felt like a little kid at a fun fair. What to try first? The others stood watching, busting to join her, but caution held them back.

‘We shouldn’t,’ said Clem.

‘We’ll get in trouble,’ said Bryce.

‘Big trouble,’ snapped Darcy. ‘They’ll
hate
bike riders in there.’

But it was Tong who made the decision for them. ‘No more hate!’ he cried and took off after Mio.

Darcy’s grin circled his eyes. ‘Let’s go,’ he said to Clem, unexpectedly wobbling in his excitement.

‘Right behind you.’

Whoever designed the park had thought of everything. There was a streetscape with rails and benches and street gaps and stairs. There were wave ramps and bank ramps and launch ramps with the smoothest transitions from ground to air. Boxes of every kind; fun boxes and grind boxes, fly boxes, and a quad box that looked like a pyramid. There were quarter-pipes and a vertical half-pipe that looked phenomenal.

The Freewheelers were like kids in a candy store, riding from one thing to the next, trying to sample as many thrills as were catered for.

‘Hey!’ screamed the workman, scrambling to his feet. ‘You can’t come in here.’

But the outside world could not penetrate their excitement.

Mio perched on top of a deck ready to drop in on the half-pipe. She felt her anger fizzing away, thinking,
It’s so good to be here, just me and my bike and the ramps and the air
, before plummeting
down and whooshing up the other side. She loved the rush to the pit of her stomach as she went down and the whooshka when she went up. There, infinity overcame gravity, and all was right in her world.

Clem and Tong were re-writing their own laws of gravity as they performed trick after trick. Bryce was busy looking for the perfect grind.

By now the man was waving his arms like an animated scarecrow, but even his best impersonation couldn’t stop the Freewheelers doing what they did best.

What they and the man doing scarecrow impersonations didn’t notice was a lone skateboarder flip open his phone and make a call. It was only one call but when Dunk Dog made it, it would change their lives.

In no time at all, skateboarders appeared from everywhere, with boards of every size and shape and design, but all with the same instruction. To get the BMXers out.

They swarmed inside the skate park, zeroing in on each Freewheeler like ants to a dying moth.

‘Whoa!’ said Bryce, narrowly missing a skateboarder as he came off a rise, but failing to miss another coming the other way. The thwack of two bodies colliding echoed through the air. There was a clash of helmets, a cauldron of arms and
legs. Both boys scrambled to their feet and retrieved their bike and board, glaring at each other in the process. More and more skateboarders surrounded Bryce.

Clem was the first to notice the mess they were in and with a quick shuffle of the back wheels, realigned herself and headed towards Bryce and the angry throng. Tong sped to join them.

Darcy was doing his best not to mow, or be mowed, down, but even with his dextrous riding it was getting harder and harder to stay on his wheels. He could see why skateboarders were called suicide rockets as they barrelled towards him with no thought of flipping out of his way.

But Mio was oblivious. Backwards and forwards she rode in the half-pipe, loving the sensation of her brain sloshing around in her head. It was soothing, rocking, like a baby in a cradle or a child on a swing. All those worries, all that misfortune, meant nothing when she was doing this. She thought of this rap song that Bryce liked to sing:
What you live through, you are
, and chanted the lyrics over and over again.

By now, several police cars had pulled up after receiving another frantic phone call, this time from the workman.

Police officers swarmed from their cars, some with megaphones, some even holding tear gas,
which had become police protocol after a bike park clash the week before. They called everyone to halt.

In quick succession, the skateboarders and bike riders stopped, turning in shock at the swell of uniforms. Some wanted to run, others wanted to hide, but in that vast expanse of concrete and metal there was nowhere to go.

Two kids ignored the warning, absorbed in their own world.

Mio and a skateboarder were having it out on the half-pipe. Up and down they went, down and up, over and over and over again, daring each other to be the first to stop.

With long strides two police officers approached the pair, one calling into the megaphone, ‘Riders, stop. I repeat: riders, stop.’

But Mio had no intention of stopping. Straining her eyes she tried to make out who the skateboarder was under his beanie. His t-shirt looked familiar.
Year of the Dog.
Now, where had she seen that before? Wasn’t it from the Chinese zodiac?

‘Who is it?’ Darcy whispered to Clem, unable to place the rider either.

Clem shrugged.

The police officers got closer and closer, but the two didn’t miss a beat. It was like they were
part of a pendulum, forever destined to go down then up.

‘Stop!’ roared a policeman.

Mio faltered and swerved. In that exact instant both riders fell, tumbling onto the flat transition at the base of the half-pipe. Mio’s bike skidded left and the skateboard looped-the-loop right.

A gasp went up from the crowd.

One police officer grabbed Mio and hauled her to her feet, the other grabbed the skateboarder and as she did so his beanie fell off.

Dunk Dog! She should have known.

‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?!’ The police officer didn’t need the megaphone; his voice boomed sufficiently without it. ‘Failing to do as instructed by a police officer. I can arrest you for that!’

For the second time that morning Mio crashed to earth. Fifty pairs of eyes were upon her. She looked at the local government worker, red and sweaty in the face. She looked at the sea of skateboarders’ faces—all hostile; and those framed by their official collars and hats—all hostile too.

Mio gulped and looked down. What had she done?!

Dunk Dog glared at Mio. ‘This is a skate park,’ he said. ‘Rules say no BMXers allowed.’

‘He’s right.’ The police officer turned to Mio,
saying, ‘The skate park is out of bounds to bike riders. What do you have to say for yourself?’

Mio gulped again and looked up, this time overcoming her Japanese conditioning and meeting the police officer’s gaze, searching for the right words. How could she defend herself without being disrespectful? Finally, it came. ‘A skate park isn’t about rules and regulations. It’s about young people trying to express themselves.’

‘Express themselves? No, it’s not. It’s about damage to public property and safety to skaters,’ said the police officer.

Darcy took a step forward, his fists balling at his sides as he asked the officer, ‘Don’t you think you’re being a little extreme?’

Dunk Dog stamped his foot. ‘How else are you guys going to get the message? BMXers are not welcome in this park.’

‘We have just as much right to be here as you,’ said Mio. ‘It’s prejudice. Our parents paid the taxes that built this park, too.’

Dunk Dog looked at Mio and Tong, then scoffed. ‘Illegal aliens don’t pay taxes.’

Tong pulled himself to his full height. Pain flickered in his eyes. He wanted to shout but knew that that would only make things worse. ‘I not illegal alien,’ he said. ‘This now my home. Government say…’

‘Leave it alone,’ said Mio pulling gently on Tong’s sleeve. ‘Now’s not the time for a lesson in politics.’

A reluctant Tong whispered, ‘Okay,’ then shut up, his face twitching with anger.

Dunk Dog turned to the police officer, saying, ‘You should arrest them. Creating a Public Nuisance. Trespass. Damaging Public Property.’

‘Don’t tell me how to do my job!’ snapped the police officer, snorting in disgust. ‘You’ve been watching too many police shows on TV.’ Then he turned to Mio and said, ‘I have to ask you and the other bike riders to leave this property. Go. Get lost.’

‘We have a civil right to enjoy this park as much as anybody,’ began Mio, aware that a good Japanese girl should not question a person in authority. Bryce made a signal telling Mio to be quiet, but she ignored it. ‘As a BMX rider and a conscientious citizen it is my right to enjoy the same rights and privileges as the skateboarders,’ she went on.

The police officer waved his megaphone around. ‘When you came in here and broke the law, you gave up those rights.’

A loud cheer went up from the skateboarders.

‘In fact, for refusing to follow orders and leave this property we’re going to confiscate this bike,
right now.’ The police officer signalled and another officer claimed Mio’s bike and wheeled it towards the gate and the waiting police cars.

‘No!’ cried Mio. ‘You can’t take my bike.’ But they could and she knew it. She watched as her beloved bike disappeared into the boot of a police car.

‘You and your parents can pick it up from the station,’ said the police officer.

Her parents? Mio knew not to say another word.

The rest of the Freewheelers grabbed their bikes and shuffled towards the exit.

‘Come back and we’ll confiscate the lot of them,’ called the officer.

Another cheer came from the skateboarders and then a chant started up, ‘BMXers out. BMXers out.’ Some skateboarders started to do tricks.

Close to the entry gate Mio stopped. She turned to the crowd and stared them down. Darcy, Clem, Bryce and Tong joined her. The chant got louder and louder till the syllables blended together to form one word: ZOUT!

The police officers stood to one side, watching the proceedings but doing nothing to stop them. The workman went from officer to officer, thanking them and shaking hands.

When Dunk Dog realised that the Freewheelers had halted at the gate he jumped on his board and
coasted to a stop in front of Mio. He stood, one foot resting on the board, his hand raised in triumph.

Mio saw the officer lock the boot of his car and swing into the driver’s seat. She felt as though they had taken away part of her. It was too much. All those other things that had gone wrong and now this. She thought of her grandfather’s saying—
Ame futte ji katamaru
[Rained-on ground hardens]—and squared her shoulders. Then she thought of his other piece of advice when she’d first learnt to ride a bike:
Nana korobi, ya oki
[To fall seven times, to rise eight times]. She made a silent promise:
Grandfather, I will rise
.

Suddenly, Tong thrust out his hand. ‘Freewheelers,’ he yelled in as loud a voice as possible.

Four hands were placed on top.

‘Freewheelers!’

The kids made their way to school, Mio dinking with Clem. As they chained their bikes to the rack Clem said to Mio, ‘I don’t think you should come to the council meeting. Leave it with us.’

‘Yeah, Mio,’ said Bryce. ‘I never thought this could be said about you, but you’re in way too much trouble already without stirring things up tonight.’

Darcy agreed saying, ‘Leave it with us. We’ll put up a good fight.’

Mio looked at her friends. She knew they meant well, but giving in and rolling over wasn’t going to get her anywhere. If she was going to get herself out of this mess she would have to fight, and what better place to start than at the local council meeting?

‘I’m going,’ said Mio.

‘But that’s so dumb!’ said Darcy. ‘You don’t have to be there.’

‘I want to go.’

‘We can’t always have what we want.’

Mio shrugged, hoisted her pack on her back and headed for the stairs.

‘Wait!’ said Darcy. ‘We’re with you, not against you.’

Mio refused to look in his eyes. ‘Doesn’t feel like it.’ And she continued up the stairs, first stop, the Principal’s office.

Assembly took place before lesson one on Thursdays, when students of The Metropolitan School gathered in the quadrangle to hear Mrs Burridge make her weekly announcements from the top of the steps. Although these assemblies were good time-wasters, they could also be dead boring and kids were getting restless.

‘Before we conclude this week’s assembly, one student has requested to speak.’

A groan went up across the playground. Assembly would now drag on even longer.

‘Good luck,’ whispered Clem as Mio headed for the stairs.

‘Tell it like it is,’ urged Bryce. ‘You didn’t do it.’

Mio stood with feet together and hands clasped in front of her as she faced the microphone.
Against her upbringing, she glanced up, directly into the eyes of the crowd. They looked like they were posed for a poster shoot for some rebellious rock band: faces etched with at best boredom, at worst, simmering anger. Mio cleared her throat, looked down, and began.

‘I am Mio Shinozaki. My friends and I have been putting together a petition so that BMX riders can join skateboarders, in-line and scooter riders at Wheels Skate Park. Many of you have kindly signed this petition.’

A voice cried out, ‘And lived to regret it!’

A murmur went through the crowd, like a rustle of resentment.

‘It has been brought to my attention that something horrible has happened. Some students at this school have received nasty emails, supposedly from me, sent from my email address.’

The murmur continued to ripple around the quadrangle.

‘For those of you who received such hateful emails I am truly sorry. However, I want you to know that although they came from my email address, they did not come from me.’

Soft boos and grumbles grew louder.

Mio glanced at Mrs Burridge who was looking displeased at this turn of events in the apology. ‘I also want you to know that an email anti-abuse
group is helping me to prevent this happening again.’ With a small bow she concluded, ‘Thank you,’ and joined her friends.

Bryce squeezed Mio’s hand, saying, ‘You did good.’

Mio nodded, and squeezed back, relieved that it was over. She vowed she would track down the culprit, although how, she had no idea.

As Mio made her way to class she was acutely aware of the number of students who stopped and pointed, or stopped and whispered. Putting herself in the public eye fought against her whole Japanese upbringing. In fact, if this was Japan, Mio would seriously consider leaving the school. But, she admonished herself,
This is not Japan, and you will stay
.

Mio sat in her History class realising with a pang that this was where all her troubles had begun.

It was Leks’ turn to do a presentation. As he stood to discuss post-war Vietnam his words from her session came back to haunt her. He’d talked about that computer game
Battlefield211
when he’d said,
You have to do whatever you can to keep your dog tags but if you knife someone, you get to take theirs.

Mio’s stomach tumbled. Had Leks been the one to knife her? What if he had taken the dog tags? And what if he still had them, even though he’d denied it? She had to find out. But how?

When Leks finished his presentation he went to sit down but Mio’s hand was up like a shot.

‘You say that for many Vietnamese, poverty is still a problem today?’

Leks nodded.

‘And with money and medical facilities scarce, there has been a growth in post-war cottage industries—the bone dealers you talked about, for example.’

Leks frowned and shuffled his papers. ‘Yeah.’

Mio forced herself to smile as she asked, ‘How do these bone dealers know whose human remains they’ve found?’

‘Dental records and stuff,’ answered Leks.

‘What if there’s no teeth?’ asked Mio. ‘What then?’

‘They use dog tags, I guess.’ Leks banged his papers on the desk as if to signal that this was an end to the conversation.

Mio’s eyes flashed. ‘Ah, dog tags. Like the ones I showed the other day?’

Leks’ eyes narrowed as he rammed his papers under his arm. ‘Maybe.’

‘The ones that were stolen from my locker?’

Leks strode towards his seat, seething because Mio was being so difficult. But two could play at that game. ‘Maybe…’ he repeated, before plonking himself down, all huff and puff as he led her on.

Mio knew something was wrong. She scribbled a note and handed it to Darcy.
He’s hiding something. And I’m going to find out what
.

Later that day after class she followed Leks to his locker, then waited till he’d removed the lock and opened the door before pouncing. ‘My, my, my. What do we have here?’ she asked, peering inside.

‘None of your business,’ said Leks, slamming the door in her face and standing with his back against the locker to block her view.

‘Hiding something?’ asked a voice behind Mio. It was Darcy, come to join her.

‘No.’

Darcy stood close, a quarter-smile playing across his face. In a soft voice that Leks had to strain to hear he said, ‘Then you won’t mind proving it to us, would you?’

If Leks had opened the door and shown them the books and rubbish littering his locker it would have been okay, but he didn’t. He hooked the lock through the metal bar and clicked it, crowing as he pocketed his key and walked away.

‘He knows something,’ said Mio.

‘How do you know?’ asked Darcy.

‘Because there’s something he doesn’t want us to see in his locker.’

Darcy shrugged. ‘That doesn’t prove anything. Heaps of kids hide stuff in their lockers. Dirty gym
clothes. Their school report. Last week’s lunch. Worse.’

Mio nodded, and gave a reluctant, ‘I guess.’

Darcy looped his arm through Mio’s and dragged her away. ‘We’re meeting the others beside the sports equipment shed. We need to talk about tonight’s meeting.’

Mio allowed herself to be propelled along, thankful to be following orders for once.

When everyone had assembled and was scoffing their morning snacks Darcy began. ‘Mr Lark’s submitted our question for us for question time, so we’ve got a definite spot on the agenda tonight.’

‘Great,’ said Clem, picking the sultanas out of her bun and popping them in her mouth.

‘What’s question time?’ asked Bryce.

Darcy gulped a mouthful of banana before continuing. ‘At every meeting they allow thirty minutes for question time. It’s so the public can come and ask questions or tell their problems to the council members.’

‘Sounds good to me,’ said Bryce.

‘Mr Lark says that we have to be present in the public gallery and stand when our question comes up.’

Mio turned to Darcy and asked, ‘Whose names are on the question?’

‘All of ours.’

The corners of Mio’s mouth twitched as she tried not to smile in triumph. ‘Then I’ll have to be there!’

‘I guess.’ Darcy pursed his lips, annoyed that Mio had outwitted him.

‘Excuse me,’ interrupted Tong. ‘What is question?’

Darcy pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and read what he’d jotted down. ‘It is council’s goal to provide amenities directly benefiting young people and encouraging them to participate in decision-making that affects these activities.’

‘That’s not a question,’ said Bryce, whilst Tong looked puzzled.

Darcy shushed him with, ‘I’m getting to it. The question is: Initially, it was agreed after discussions and a feasibility study that Wheels Skate Park was endorsed as a Skate and BMX park (Item One as at 30 July), but now a decision has been made to exclude BMX riders, causing friction in the youth community and alienating a minority group. Why? What can be done about it?’

‘That’s two questions,’ said Clem, but stopped when Darcy shot her a withering look.

Mio stretched out her feet, tugging at her skirt. ‘Sounds good to me.’

‘Good old Mr Lark,’ said Clem. ‘He’s really on the ball.’

‘Not bad for an old fella,’ agreed Darcy. ‘By the way, the meeting starts at six, with question time
sometime between six thirty and seven. Better all meet at the council building at ten to six, don’t you think?’

Heads nodded all round.

Just then Mio spotted Leks heading for the gym.

‘Got to go,’ she told the others. ‘See you in Geography.’

‘Where are you going?’ asked Clem.

‘To the gym,’ yelled Mio as she scooted off.

Clem hesitated, then turned to the others saying, ‘I didn’t know Mio’s taken up gym.’

Darcy turned to watch Mio’s progress. ‘Neither did I…’

Clem, Bryce and Tong finished their food and moved off to resume their signature hunt, aware that time was running out.

Mio slipped through the doorway to the gym and skirted the border, lurking in the shadow of the tiered spectator stand. She watched as other boys entered and headed for the change-rooms, emerging in shorts and singlets and high-topped basketball shoes. Before long, their coach blew a whistle and all the boys huddled to receive their first training instruction.

This was the opportunity that Mio was waiting for.

Padding on silent feet she flattened herself against a wall, then snuck through the doorway of
the change-room. She did a double-take. It looked like someone had been to Lost Property and shaken out the entire contents of the cupboard. Shirts and hats and socks and shoes, coats and jumpers and shorts were strewn across every available surface.

Mio groaned. How was she going to search Leks’ stuff now? More to the point, how was she going to
find
Leks’ stuff?

Methodically, she went from sports bag to sports bag, her mouth dry with fear. The first couple of bags belonged to two boys Mio knew from the school strings band. She said a silent ‘sorry’ for invading their stuff but knew there was nothing else she could do. She didn’t recognise the boys’ names on the next three bags so after a cursory glance she moved on. She was just about to pick up yet another bag when she heard footsteps. Mio froze, the blood in her ears pounding. She scouted around, looking for the closest place to hide. Behind the lockers would have been good but they were too far away and by the sound of those footsteps there was no time to get there. The floor under her feet was already vibrating. Mio flung herself to the ground and wriggled under a bench, pulling some clothes to camouflage her at the same time.

The footsteps entered the room and stopped. The
thump, thump, thump
of Mio’s heart boomed
louder than a bass guitar on full amp. The footsteps started up again, edging closer. She heard a voice but her ears were buzzing so loudly that she couldn’t make out what was said. By now, she’d been trying so hard not to breathe that her lungs were aching, dust was getting up her nose and she was wondering if this was such a good idea after all.

‘Mio?’

She’d been spotted! How on earth was she going to explain her way out of this? Surrendering, she pushed herself upright to stare into the face of…

‘Darcy!’ she gasped. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Well, I’m not trying to morph into dust like some people,’ he answered.

Mio would have loved to pick up the first thing that came to hand and hurl it at Darcy’s head but it would make too much noise and besides, her limbs had gone to water.

‘I saw you come in and thought you could do with some help. What are you doing here?’

‘Looking for Leks’ bag.’

‘Looking for dog tags, you mean?’

‘Yes.’

Darcy’s eyes darted around the room, going from bag to bag. In the background he could hear the coach blowing his whistle, and feet pounding up and down on polyurethane floors as kids were
put through a stress test. Darcy grinned, relieved it wasn’t him. Those fitness tests made you feel like your insides were going to spew out of your mouth.

By now Mio was back on her feet, searching from gym bag to gym bag.

‘There it is,’ said Darcy. ‘That one there. The one with the hand grenade keyring on the zipper.’

Mio reached for the bag and peered inside.

‘Try this,’ said Darcy and he cleared a space on the floor with his toe and tipped the bag upside down.

Two sets of eyes scanned the contents. Two sets of eyes clouded with disappointment. There were chip wrappers, clothes and dirty socks, an apple that had seen better days and a note about next week’s game.

‘Nothing,’ said Mio, scooping up the stuff and flinging it back in the bag. But then she got an idea. ‘Except…’

‘Except what?’

She reached for Leks’ shorts and ran her hand along the lining of the pocket. ‘Except this.’ And she pulled out his locker key and dangled it in the air.