Roller Hockey Radicals (7 page)

“Oh, no!” Kirby’s stomach knotted. “They can’t do that!”

“Yeah, well, you try and stop them, because my dad couldn’t. And he’s a lawyer.” Marty sure sounded down about it.

“Hey, Marty?” Kirby asked, a thought suddenly striking him. “How come you called me first, and not any of the others?”

“Huh? I don’t know,” Marty confessed. “I guess… I guess I wanted to see how it was going for my new teammate. And I don’t
know — about the lot being closed, I thought
you might have an idea or something. I already know what the others are going to say about it.”

“Like… ?”

“Like Trevor will start getting himself all upset, Lainie will throw a fit, Nick will cry, and Jamal will secretly be happy
he doesn’t have to get out there and face the Bad Boys again.”

Kirby laughed. “So what do you want to do?”

“I need to rest,” Marty said. “They gave me something at the hospital for the pain, and I’m kind of out of it. Could you call
everybody, and tell them to meet on E Street tomorrow at two? We need to figure something out.”

“Okay. See you then,” Kirby said, and hung up.

“What was that all about?” his dad asked, peeking over the top of his newspaper.

“Marty’s okay,” Kirby said, and explained about his shoulder being bruised, not dislocated. “I’ve got to make some calls,
all right?”

He ran upstairs to call the others from the phone in his mom’s office. Kirby wasn’t sure he wanted to tell his parents about
the parking lot
thing. Not until after the meeting, anyway. Whatever happened, he didn’t want to do anything else to get them upset about
roller hockey. Things were touchy enough already.

The E Street Skates sat on the curb in a row. Most of them were wearing their skates, except Marty, who had walked, and Kirby,
who had biked over. Marty had his right arm in a blue cloth sling. Everyone wore serious expressions on their faces. Nobody
was saying a word.

“This really bites,” Trevor finally said.

“You can say that again,” Lainie agreed. “There’s got to be something we can do about it! I mean, this is supposed to be a
democracy, right? That parking lot should be of the people, by the people, and for the people, right?”

“What are you, Lincoln?” Trevor said with a little smile. They all laughed — the first time they’d laughed in the whole hour
they’d been sitting there.

“Shut up,” Lainie said, giving Trevor a playful
elbow in the arm. “Seriously, we’re citizens in this town, aren’t we? Just because we’re kids and we don’t vote, does that
mean we don’t count for anything? How can they do this to us?”

“It’s called lawsuits, Lainie,” Jamal said. “Somebody could sue the town for a lot of money. Marty, for instance.” He rubbed
his hands together and licked his lips greedily. “I’d be happy to be your lawyer, old pal!”

“Quit the clowning,” Marty said. “But you’re right — that’s why they’re not letting us play.”

“Is there anyplace else we could go for games?” Kirby asked.

Everyone shook their heads. “That’s the whole trouble with this town,” Nick said disgustedly. “They never do anything cool
for kids.”

“What about the May Fair?” Marty asked. “And the soccer league and the town pool? They do stuff. They just hate it when kids
skate, that’s all.”

“It’s discrimination!” Lainie shouted. “I say we talk to the mayor!”

“And tell him what?” Trevor asked. “That we demand a skating rink? Yeah, he’ll really buy that because we said so.”

“Wait a minute,” Kirby said. “The mayor should at least hear our side. Maybe we can convince him we’re right.”

“Yeah, right,” Trevor said skeptically.

“Hey, it’s worth a try,” Marty said. “Nobody’s got any other ideas, and it’s better than doing nothing.”

“So what are our arguments?” Kirby asked.

“Well, that we need a rink, and the parking lot’s perfect for it…,” Lainie began.

“But he’ll say the pavement’s too messed up and that it’s dangerous for kids.” Marty held up his wounded arm to prove his
point. “He’ll say we’d need insurance or something.”

“So the lot would need to be paved,” Kirby reasoned.

“Right. Which would cost like a zillion dollars,” Nick said, sighing. “And then you’d still have to get insurance. That costs
money too.”

“Well, maybe we could get the town to pay for it,” Kirby said.

Trevor shook his head. “The mayor’s not going to listen when a bunch of kids come in to see him. It’ll be like, ’Oh, that’s
nice, children. Go and play now. But not in the parking lot.’ “

“Well, then, how about we make a petition?” Jamal said.

“What’s a petition?” Nick asked.

“Nick, everyone knows what a petition is!” Trevor said, rolling his eyes. “It’s when you get people’s signatures in favor
of whatever, and hand it in.”

“So, like, we get a hundred signatures, and then we give it to the mayor?” Nick asked, beginning to smile.

“A hundred? Try a thousand!” Lainie said excitedly. “Come on, gang, let’s go back to my house and write up our statement!
We’re not stopping until we get our rink!”

We, the people of Valemont, hereby demand that the parking lot of the former cardboard box factory be repaved immediately
and that the citizens of Valemont have free use of the lot for adult-supervised activities, such as roller hockey, until such
time as the property is sold.

The petition was ready for signing. Mr. Bledsoe had gone over it and approved it. He’d made copies of it for all the members
of the team. They were just about to go back out into the street to start getting signatures, when Kirby suddenly realized
something.

“You know what, guys — we’re forgetting some people here.”

“Who?” Nick asked. But Marty and Lainie were already nodding in agreement.

“The Bates Avenue Bad Boys,” Marty said. “You’re right, Kirby. We may hate their guts, but we need their help for this. We’ve
got to get them involved in the petition drive if we’re going to get a thousand signatures.”

“Well, I’m not going over there,” Jamal said, crossing his arms.

“Me neither,” Nick said. “Those guys will just beat us up.”

“Fine, we’ll go without you,” Lainie said. “But they’re going to want the lot paved and opened, too.”

“I can’t go right now,” Trevor said. “My cousins are over for Sunday dinner.”

“And I’ve got to stay off my skates for now,” Marty said.

“Well, I guess it’s just me and Kirby,” Lainie said. “No problem.”

“Don’t do it, Lainie!” Jamal protested. “Those guys will eat you two for lunch.”

“I’m not afraid of them, and neither is Kirby,” Lainie responded. “Are you, Kirby?”

“Nope,” Kirby lied. He was terrified, but he wasn’t going to say so.

“You’re sure?” Marty said. “Maybe I’ll walk over and meet you there.”

“You wouldn’t be much good in a fight,” Lainie said, flicking a finger at his sling strap. “Thanks, anyway. Come on, Kirby.”

As she skated and Kirby rode toward Bates Avenue, Kirby looked over at Lainie. “You’re really not scared?” he asked her.

“’Course I am. Are you crazy?” she replied. “Aren’t you?”

“Yup.”

“Well, do your best to hide it, because here we are,” Lainie said. “Follow me.”

The Bad Boys were practicing as usual. As Lainie and Kirby approached, one of them delivered an illegal body check to another.
The second boy slammed into a parked car, denting it a little.

“Yeah! Yeah! I decked you, Slater!” Killer’s voice rang out. “In your face!”

Slater dragged himself back up and shook himself off. “Hey,” he said, “look who’s here.”

“Whoa, it’s the geek and his girlfriend! Wanna play a pickup game? No adults around to protect you now!”

“We’ve got something more important to talk about,” Lainie said simply.

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” All the Bad Boys were gathering around now. Lainie handed Killer a copy of the petition.

“This,” Lainie said. “We’re circulating a petition to hand in to the mayor, to get him to pave the parking lot and let us
skate there again.”

Killer stared at the page and nodded. “‘We, the people…’ Not bad. You make this up?” he asked.

“Uh-huh. We need your help getting signatures. At least a thousand by next week.”

Killer spit on the ground. “No problem,” he
said. “We’re gonna get way more signatures than you losers.”

“In your dreams,” Lainie said, tossing her hair back off her forehead.

“We’ll see,” Killer said. “Hey, guys, go get everyone you see to sign one of these papers. If they won’t sign, break their
necks.” He grinned and looked at Lainie. “Salesmanship,” he said. “Now, get out of here, and take your geek boyfriend with
you. Got it?”

Lainie narrowed her eyes dangerously but didn’t answer. Instead, she said, “Come on, Kirby,” and started skating away. Kirby
followed her before the Bad Boys decided to chase them.

“That was cool!” he said. “You were so awesome, Lainie!”

Lainie grinned. “Thanks,” she said. “I thought I was pretty good, too. Now let’s see if those jerks manage to get any signatures.
They’re not going to get more than us, that’s for sure. Not if I have to spend every last minute this week on it.”

“Me, too!” Kirby said. He really admired Lainie. She sure was brave. Even though she’d admitted to him that she was afraid,
she never let the Bad Boys know it. Kirby was sure his own teeth had been chattering the whole time.

Kirby was shy at first about ringing the doorbells of people he didn’t know. And when they opened their doors, he stumbled
on the speech he’d prepared. But after Marty called him and it turned out that he was having the same problem, Kirby didn’t
feel so bad. At least he wasn’t the only one.

So the two boys worked out a plan. They would set up a table outside Reilly’s Sporting Goods, downtown. Lots of people came
by there, and the ones who went into Reilly’s were already interested in sports. There would be a poster asking people to
sign the petition, so all he and Marty would have to do would be to answer questions.

This plan turned out to be a big success. After
only fifteen minutes, they had gathered twenty signatures! Seeing the crowd gathering in front of his store, Mr. Reilly came
out to see what was happening.

“What’s this you’re up to?” he asked, looking over the poster they’d hand-painted. “‘Help make the roller hockey rink a reality’?
What roller hockey rink?”

“The parking lot at the old cardboard box factory,” Marty explained. “We want the town to pave it and insure it so that kids
can play there.”

“Well, I think that’s a great idea!” Mr. Reilly said. “This town doesn’t pay enough attention to recreation for kids, if you
ask me! Besides, it’ll help me sell more sports equipment. Where do I sign?”

Kirby showed him where, and Mr. Reilly signed with a flourish. “There! Now, let me know if there’s anything else I can do
to help.” Turning to the people walking down the street, he shouted, “Hey, everyone! Come and look at this!”

Marty gave Kirby the thumbs-up sign, along with a big smile. “Yes!” he whispered.

“Well, isn’t this something! Over one thousand signatures!” Mayor Casper Huggins rubbed a hand over his shiny bald head in
wonderment. “There are only five thousand people in all of Valemont — that’s one in five… twenty percent — my, my!”

Kirby could almost see the mayor calculating votes in the next election.

“Six hundred twenty-seven of the signatures came from us,” Lainie whispered to Kirby just loud enough for the Bad Boys, sitting
across the aisle of the town council chamber, to hear. The Bad Boys sat there and smoldered.

At the front of the room, Marty and Killer had just handed over the petition. Now, as they returned to their seats, the five
town council members gathered around and read Lainie’s statement. They nodded, impressed.

“I move we vote on this,” said one council member, taking off her glasses.

“I second the motion,” said another, raising his hand.

The vote was unanimous, and everyone in the crowd cheered. Every member of both teams was there, along with at least half
the parents. Hockey was a big issue in their families; Kirby could see that. And so could the council.

“Ahem,” Mayor Huggins said, “can we please have quiet? Thank you. Now, the council has voted in favor of the proposition.
I therefore proclaim that the parking lot be paved and temporarily put at the disposal of Valemont’s citizens, for their supervised
use — subject to the insurer’s approval, and funding, of course.” He cleared his throat again and sat down. “Anything else
before we adjourn this meeting?” he asked.

“I have a question,” Lainie got up and said. Everyone looked at her, including Kirby. “Does
what you just said mean that we have to pay for it ourselves?”

“Ahem,” Mayor Huggins coughed as murmuring rose in the room. “Well, yes… of course, the town budget has no provision for this.
I can’t direct town personnel to make the improvements without assuring them of payment.”

“Well, how much will it cost?” Mr. Bledsoe asked from his seat.

“Ahem, well, let’s see… somewhere in the neighborhood of five thousand dollars, plus another thousand for insurance.”

“Six thousand dollars!?” The murmur in the room became a roar, as people leapt to their feet.

“I’m willing to make a personal contribution to begin the collection of funds,” the mayor said hurriedly. Kirby was new in
town, but even he knew there was an election coming up that November, and that the mayor was running for reelection. “I pledge
five hundred dollars!” he said.

Everyone cheered. “Count me in for two-fifty!” Mr. Bledsoe shouted, to more applause. Ten minutes
later, the amount needed had shrunk to only three thousand dollars.

“We can do this,” Lainie said, turning to her teammates. “We got signatures — all we have to do is go around asking for money.
Easy!”

“Nuh-uh,” Jamal said. “Asking for money is harder. Why don’t we have a yard sale or something?”

“I could bake some things, and you could have a bake sale!” Kirby’s mom volunteered.

Kirby’s heart swelled in his chest as all the other kids thanked his mom. Kirby gave her a big hug.