Extreme! (14 page)

By now, there were police cars everywhere, their sirens singing up a storm. Skaters, bladers and scooter riders mingled with council officials in a restless throng. No-one knew what was happening. Kids were asking other kids, ‘What’s going on?’, their voices rising with panic.

Mr Lark stumbled to the microphone and blurted out, ‘Keep calm. Everybody keep calm.’ He’d seen how easy it was for a crowd to lose control during the war and how ugly the end result could be. He’d seen women and children trampled to death, caught between North Vietnamese and South Vietnamese troops during the fall of Saigon.

Mio felt gutted as she watched the chaos. What had meant to be a peaceful protest had turned into
a shambles. She watched her father usher her mother to safety inside the staff office and breathed a sigh of relief. She could hear Mr Lark calling for calm and could see the Freewheelers making their way towards her.

The policeman with the loudspeaker called out, ‘Nobody move!’ Everyone ignored him. They were jostling each other to see what was happening. ‘One more move and we close down this park.’ The Freewheelers stopped in their tracks. That was the last thing they wanted. Most of the other kids froze, too. To close the park would be a disaster.

Mio felt torn. Comply now and she’d lose her bet. Ignore the order and she’d be in huge trouble. She could see Dunk Dog grinning at her quandary.

‘Woof,’ he said, ending her dilemma.

The thought of not being able to return the dog tags to Mr Lark was too much to bear. Besides, the greatest gains took the most extreme measures. Like a sprinter from a starting block Mio took off, pedalling in the direction of the stairs.

‘Stop!’ ordered the policeman.

Mio pedalled faster, her eyes glued to the stairway twenty metres away.

‘Stop that girl!’ yelled Dunk Dog.

Skateboarders stepped in her path but Mio weaved around them. She rode over speed humps and bunnyhopped over skateboards flung in her
direction. She carved and pumped, hopping up kerbs, grinding along ledges, even sailing over a gap between two box jumps.

Kids twisted and flung themselves out of her way. Only precision riding prevented them from being hurt.

Some of the police entered the enclosure, joining the chase.

‘Catch her,’ yelled Dunk Dog.

A boy with a black hoodie lunged for her, but Darcy leapt to stop him at the same time and they collided in mid-air. The thump and grunts sounded like two sea lions at war, then there was the
glmmp
as they hit the ground and
scuff-ff-ff-ff
as they slid along the concrete.

‘Darcy!’ yelled Clem, bolting to her brother’s side.

Mio prayed that they weren’t seriously hurt. How she wished for this to stop. But one look at Mr Lark standing at the microphone and she knew she could not.

Mio approached the rail. She rose for the bunnyhop to position her peg. Dunk Dog lunged and grabbed for the handlebars. He caught them, then lost his grip, sending Mio into a spin. As she lost height she gained speed and came slamming down.

She was grinding the railing backwards!

The crowd rushed to the stairs and watched in horror.

Do a fakie
,
do a fakie
, prayed Clem as she sped to join them.

But Mio had not landed and ridden backwards as Clem had wished. Her body, too light for Bryce’s heavy bike frame, plus momentum, had let her down. Instead of coming to the end of the railing and hopping off, she’d rolled to the side.

Bryce’s bike skidded across the concrete, sounding like a jumbo jet doing a belly landing, before it came to a halt near a half-pipe.

Luckily Mio was wearing Bryce’s helmet, but because she hadn’t planned to ride she didn’t have on any other protective gear. She lay on the ground, her arms and legs bent around her, flung in every direction like a catherine wheel.

Dunk Dog blanched. He knew he was the reason she’d stacked it. If he hadn’t made the bet and grabbed the handlebars, this would never have happened. Bolting over, he was the first to reach her. He gaped in horror at her still body.

Everywhere went quiet. No police on loudspeakers, no Mr Lark on the microphone, no kids calling out. Even the police sirens had stopped. It was as still as death.

Dunk Dog dropped to his knees to steady himself.

Then the police radioed for an ambulance.

The Freewheelers started running. Bryce jumped down the whole flight of stairs, lucky to land in one piece himself. Darcy and Clem took the stairs three at a time, and Tong jumped from the top of a ledge. They knelt beside Mio, numb with shock.

Everyone was lost for words. Especially Dunk Dog.

A scream went up from the office block as Mrs Shinozaki saw her daughter crumpled on the ground. She staggered towards her, clutching her chest. Behind her came Mio’s father, ramrod straight and silent.

Brimming with remorse, and in recognition of a truly worthy opponent, Dunk Dog reached up and unclasped the dog tags from around his neck. But just as he was about to place them on Mio’s chest a hand shot out and snatched them.

‘You stole them.’

It was Mio. She was alive!

Dunk Dog jerked backwards. ‘Did not.’

Mio lifted her head, delighted that her efforts to fake her death had outwitted Dunk Dog. ‘Did too.’

‘They were given to me,’ said Dunk Dog, sidling sidewards.

Stunned by her miraculous recovery, he watched as Mio pushed herself onto her elbows and asked, ‘By who?’

‘My brother.’

‘And who’s your brother?’ Mio swayed as she sat up.

‘Leks.’

Leks! That explained it. The petition, the stolen dog tags, the emails. Everything. Suddenly, every nerve fibre was firing and Mio staggered to her feet. Cradling the dog tags, she limped towards Mr Lark, who’d been clutching the microphone so hard it was welded to his grip.

Darcy grabbed one arm and Clem and Tong grabbed the other as they helped her along. Pain shot through Mio’s left knee and hip as if an electric jolt was going through it. Darcy supported her weight as best he could, aware that she flinched with every movement. Bryce grabbed a placard for her to lean on like a crutch. It was the one her father had brought.

A hundred pairs of eyes watched her every move, but none so intensely as Mio’s mother and father.

Mio stumbled up to Mr Lark and stopped, her hand outstretched. Gently she took Mr Lark’s gnarled hand and turned it over, laying the dog tags in his palm, then folding his stumpy fingers on top of them she whispered, ‘For you.’

Mr Lark stood like a soldier, pleased to have confirmed what he’d begun to suspect, that indeed
his dog tags had gone missing. Admiring Mio for her tenacity and bravery in retrieving the dog tags, he raised his hand in a half-salute. Mio smiled. She would have liked to respond but she was in too much pain. She did, however, notice the placard and with stiff movements held it up. Then she leant towards the microphone and announced, ‘Literally, this means ten persons, ten colours.’ Her voice was raspy but everyone could still hear what she said. ‘To all of you it would translate as, “
To each their own
”.’

Bryce couldn’t resist. ‘You mean different strokes for different folks?’

‘Something like that. It means BMXers, skateboarders and skaters are different, but the same.’ She turned to her father and bowed. ‘We are all different, but the same. We must respect that.’ She looked at her father and bowed.

Mr Shinozaki bowed back.

‘Just one more thing.’ Mio waited for silence. ‘Dunk Dog? Are you Cinderella?’

Some kids laughed, thinking she must be concussed.

But Dunk Dog did not. He stood there, weighing up the price of a public confession. His nerves were already mangled. Only a few minutes ago he’d felt like a murderer.

Mio continued to wait with all the patience of a true samurai.

Finally, after all he’d put her through, Dunk Dog decided he owed it to her to be honest. His voice rang out, ‘Yes, I am.’

‘So you’re the one who pretended to be me on the internet?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Who sent the nasty emails then?’

‘Not me.’ Dunk Dog looked down at his board. ‘Leks. He’s the computer whiz of us two. Can’t get him off it. Even fooled your friend Sachi.’

‘All this just to bring me down?’

Dunk Dog gave a wry grin. ‘Not just you. Your bike friends, too. I thought with your fancy petition and council submission you’d be sure to win over the skate park. Another place to dominate.’

Mio should have been jubliant at such a public confession but her body was screaming in pain in too many places for her to enjoy the moment.

‘We wanted to keep BMXers banned from the park. You’ve got the roads as well, but we’ve got nothing else.’

‘Seems a bit extreme,’ said Bronwyn Lindsay, and stepping up to the mike she announced, ‘I’ll be looking into this further on Monday.’ Her eyes twinkled as she added, ‘Now, how did that song go?
Ridin’ together will be a big relief.
’

Mio beamed up at her.

Dunk Dog scuffed his feet.

Lots of kids at the skate park began to clap, relieved that the feud was over. The claps started soft and slow, then erupted. Councillors clapped along with skateboarders, who clapped along with the police. The Freewheelers clapped loudest of them all.

Mission accomplished, Mio allowed herself to sink to the ground where the Freewheelers and her family fussed about her waiting for the amublance to come.

After a thorough examination and some X-rays, a lucky Mio was told that her bones weren’t broken and she headed home for some rest and cuddles with Yuki.

One week later and the Freewheelers met at the Van. Once again, five bikes were chained to the bumper bar and once again, a beagle was sniffing for food.

As Tong arranged spring rolls stuffed with crab meat on a plate, Mio passed round a bowl of papaya called
đu đ’u
in Vietnamese. ‘Things are back to normal at school and home, thank goodness, but the jury’s still out on the bike park,’ she said.

‘Guess we have to be patient,’ said Darcy as he ate some papaya, enjoying the smooth sweetness with musky undertones.

‘Not one of your strong points,’ said Clem,
watching as he reached for Tong’s plate of spring rolls with his free hand.

‘Skateboarders have fun for now. Our turn later,’ said Tong.

Bryce laughed. ‘Now, that rap song takes on a whole new meaning:

Ev’ry dent, ev’ry dint

Ev’ry scratch, ev’ry crack

Let’s not be jealous

’Cause that’s where they at.’

‘Well, I know a way to learn patience,’ said Mio getting to her feet. ‘Let’s have a slowest bike race. Winner is the last one to reach the finish line without dabbing.’

‘Boring!’ shouted Darcy.

‘I know,’ said Mio, then went on. ‘There’s these storm pipes ready for laying at Wilson’s Corner. Huge ones, stacked side by side like rolling waves.’

‘Let me guess,’ said Darcy. ‘Wavedancing here we come?’

And with that the Freewheelers grabbed their bikes and took off, riding the dips with the crests.

Concrete conquerors.

Angus&Robertson

An imprint of HarperCollins
Publishers
Australia

First published in 2008

This edition published in 2010

by HarperCollins
Publishers
Australia Pty Limited

ABN 36 009 913 517

www.harpercollins.com.au

Copyright © J. A. Mawter 2008

The right of J. A. Mawter to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the
Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000
.

This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the
Copyright Act 1968,
no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

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National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication data:

Author: Mawter, J. A. (Jeni A.)

Title: Extreme! / J.A. Mawter.

Publisher: Pymble, N.S.W.: HarperCollins, 2008.

ISBN: 978 07322 8531 9 (pbk.)

ISBN: 978 0 7304 4366 7 (epub)

Series: Mawter, J. A. (Jeni A.) Freewheelers; 3.

Target Audience: For children.

Dewey Number: A823.4

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