Snowboard Maverick (5 page)

“Dad,” Dennis said in an impatient tone, “if you thought I was responsible enough to have one of these…”

“He’s right, honey,” his dad told his mom. “You’re right, Dennis. Enjoy it.”

“Um, do you think I could call up some people?” Dennis asked, not wanting to seem impolite.

“Sure,” his dad said, laughing. “Call a few hundred friends and tell them the good news.”

“Thanks!” Dennis said. Not wanting to let go of Gizmo even for a minute, he tucked the snowboard under his arm and went into
the kitchen,where he proceeded to call Tasha and thank her.

“I can’t believe you told me you weren’t getting me anything!” he said jubilantly.

“I wish I’d been there to see the look on your face when you got it!” she said. “Hey, I had to make sure you got one. Now
I won’t have to lend you my board while I teach you how!”

“How soon can you go boarding?” Dennis asked her.

“Well, it’s Christmas morning, and we’ve got all the cousins coming over,” she said. “Let me ask my mom.” Dennis waited while
Tasha consulted with her mother. A few seconds later she got back on. “Good news,” she said. “They’re not getting here till
five o’clock. My mom says I can go out after lunch, as long as I’m back by five.”

“Great!” Dennis said. He knew his own family wasn’t entertaining or going anywhere special. His grandparents lived too far
away, and so did most of his aunts, uncles, and cousins. When they saw each other, it always took an airplane trip.

“So should we meet at Schoolhouse Hill after lunch?” Tasha asked him.

“Mmm … no, I don’t want to go there for my first time. Too many kids. I might embarrass myself. Is there anyplace more private
— that isn’t, you know, too dangerous or anything?”

“What about the Breakers?” Tasha suggested. The Breakers were a series of rolling hills outside of town. Someone must have
once thought they looked like waves, and that’s how they’d gotten their name. They had very few trees or rocks, and they weren’t
too steep — although they were higher than Schoolhouse Hill.

“Perfect!” Dennis agreed. “But we’ll have to get a lift there.”

“My parents are going to be too busy preparing for company,” Tasha mused. “What about yours?”

“Hold on — I’ll ask,” Dennis said, and ran into the living room, holding the cordless phone in his hand. “Mom, Dad, can one
of you drive me and Tasha to the Breakers this afternoon? It’s only a ten-minute drive.”

“Ten minutes there, ten minutes back — twice,” his dad pointed out, shaking his head. “Can’t you just
go snowboarding behind the school?” he asked.

“The Breakers are kind of high, honey,” his mother said. “Are you sure you can handle them?”

“Don’t worry, Mom — Tasha’s an expert,” Dennis assured her, although Tasha, he knew, had only been boarding for a month. “I’ll
be super-careful.”

“Well, I can’t drive you there, either, Dennis,” his mother said. “I’m sorry, but I’m caroling with my women’s group over
at the Happy Hills Nursing Home. And you know your father — he doesn’t want to miss his football game.” She shook her head,
frowning at the thought.

“It’s my two favorite teams, honey!” Mr. O’Malley said, as if that made the game’s importance obvious.

“Dennis!” Dennis heard Tasha’s voice on the phone, and put it up to his ear.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“What about Robbie?” she asked. “We’re going to invite him, aren’t we?”

“Of course,” Dennis agreed. “Hey, without him, I wouldn’t have a snowboard, would I? He’s probably wondering why I haven’t
called him yet!”

“Well, maybe his parents can drive us.”

“Right!” Dennis said. He covered the phone’s mouthpiece again. “Never mind, Mom and Dad. Thanks, anyway.” To Tasha he said,
“Gotta hang up and call Robbie, okay?” he said.

“Call me back after,” Tasha said.

Robbie was available, all right. He giggled right through Dennis’s explanation of how surprised he was. And boy, was he ever
excited that Dennis wanted to go boarding that very day. “Radical!” he said. “I’m totally psyched!”

Robbie talked his mom into driving them to the Breakers, too. Mrs. McIntyre looked exactly like Robbie — short, redheaded,
with freckles — and she never could resist her son when he wanted something badly enough.

And so, at two o’clock that afternoon, Mrs. McIntyre pulled up in front of the O’Malley house in her minivan and honked the
horn. Dennis came barreling out of the house, carrying his board under his arm, and jumped into the car.

In a bag slung over his shoulder was his safety equipment: a helmet, along with elbow, wrist, and knee guards. Luckily, he
had them all from
skateboarding. “Check it out, dudes!” he said, offering Gizmo up for Robbie and Tasha to admire.

It had taken Dennis the better part of half an hour to get himself dressed for this outing. He’d had to search deep in his
drawers for a pair of nylon ski pants and gloves. He’d put on long underwear, too. Dennis figured he’d be doing a lot of falling
at the beginning — and he knew how quickly you could get chilled once your clothes got wet.

He had on his warmest insulated jacket, and in his bag was a knitted ski mask and a pair of sunglasses with UV protection,
so he wouldn’t get blinded by the glare of the sun off the snow. To top it all off, his mom had reminded him to sunscreen
his nose. “You can get a bad sunburn out there in the snow,” she’d said.

“Mad cool board,” Robbie said, smiling wide and showing his braces. “I told your dad to pick out the coolest-looking board
in the store, and he did. Gizmo, huh? Awesome!”

“I notice your parents were smart enough to get the straps mounted goofy style,” Tasha said.

Dennis nodded. His parents knew from the way he skateboarded that Dennis rode right foot forward,
and they had taken care to have his snowboard mounted properly.

“Goofy, that’s me,” he said happily, and Robbie giggled again.

“Here we are!” Robbie’s mom called out, pulling the car over to the side of the road. “Everybody out. I’ll be back at four
o’clock, okay? It gets dark early this time of year, and I don’t want you snowboarding when you can’t see where you’re going.”

“Bye, Mom!” Robbie shouted as he leapt from the minivan, snowboard in hand. “See ya later!”

“Bye, Mrs. McIntyre,” Tasha and Dennis waved as the van pulled away.

Dennis turned and surveyed the scene. There were maybe half a dozen snowboarders scattered over the Breakers.

Dennis smiled. Good. He could embarrass himself privately here, and concentrate on learning the basics.

O
kay,” Dennis said, turning to Tasha and Robbie. “Where do we start?”

“Right here,” Tasha replied. They were standing in a gently sloping area between two bigger hills. “First you’ve got to practice
falling.”

“Gotcha.” Dennis understood. He knew from his skateboarding experience that learning to fall without hurting yourself is the
most important basic of any boarding sport. At least falling in snow wouldn’t be as painful as falling on concrete.

“All snowboarders fall,” Robbie said. “Even the pros. You can’t learn new tricks or break speed records without biffing.”

“Biffing?”

“You know, falling,” Robbie explained.

“Oh. Okay,” Dennis said. “So what do I do now?”

“Just strap your front foot in,” Tasha said. “That way, you can use your back foot to push yourself around. Now stand with
the board sideways across the hill. Otherwise, gravity will pull you right down the fall line — that’s the most direct route
down the hill.”

“Oh,” Dennis said. “Yeah, I sure don’t want to get pulled down the fall line. It even
sounds
dangerous.” He maneuvered himself sideways on the gently sloping hill. “There. Now what?”

“Okay, bend your knees and waist, like you’re skateboarding,” Tasha instructed him. “Turn your head to look ahead of yourself
— over your shoulder, that’s it. Now lift up your arms, and without using your hands, fall!”

Dennis did — over and over again, to Robbie’s hysterical delight. Time after time, he came up with his face covered with snow.
Pretty soon, they were all laughing.

“Now try it backward,” Tasha said, and more merriment followed.

Next it was time to try sideslipping, sliding to a stop with the board sideways across the hill. Dennis mastered this quickly
because it was so much
like skateboarding. And he already knew how to turn. Still, it was cool how different it felt to have snow underneath his
board instead of wheels and pavement.

Now it was time to climb up the nearest hill and actually make a run down the slope. Dennis trudged to the top and when he
got there, looked down.

It wasn’t all that much of a slope, really. It wasn’t that high up, either — just a little higher than Schoolhouse Hill. But
suddenly Dennis felt that old terror creeping back up his chest to his throat. He gulped it back down again, trying to wipe
the memories of his terrible skiing accident from his mind and concentrate on the task before him.

He stood sideways to the hill, strapped himself in, and took his position. Panic rose inside him, and he nearly grabbed on
to Tasha, who was standing next to him.

“Relax, Dennis,” she said. “You already practiced biffing. No big deal if you do a face plant.”

“That means fall on your face,” Robbie explained.

“Oh,” Dennis said. “Thanks. Face plant. Good phrase to learn just before I do my first official run down the hill.”

“Honestly,” Tasha said, “you’re going to be fine. Just go! Now! Go!”

Dennis turned his board and set off down the hill. The sensation of the bottom rushing up at him made him freeze, just when
he should have been relaxing into his first turn. He overshot the level area and went flying, landing in the snow headfirst
before somersaulting onto his back.

“Great. My first face plant,” he commented as Robbie ran over to lift him back up.

“Never mind — try it again,” Robbie urged him. “And don’t be so tense! What are you worried about?”

“Nothing,” Dennis lied.

But Robbie had known him a long time. “If you’re thinking about the time you hurt yourself skiing,” he said, “just forget
it. There are no trees or rocks here, no other people to bump into — it’s not even that high or steep!”

Robbie just didn’t understand, Dennis realized. The fear wasn’t reasonable — it was just
there,
inside him, and it stubbornly refused to go away.

“You bailed on that turn,” Tasha said as he got back up to the top of the rise, where she was waiting.
“Follow through on it — don’t freeze up like that.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” Dennis said. His second run was better. He got almost halfway down before losing his balance
and wiping out.

“You’re doing great!” Tasha shouted from up top. “Get back up and try again!”

Dennis did — again and again and again. He fell ten or twenty times in a row. In spite of what he told Tasha and Robbie, he
was starting to get discouraged. Maybe he just didn’t have what it took to be a snowboarder.

Tasha must have sensed his feelings, because after a particularly bad wipeout, she came boarding down the hill, stopping next
to him. “Don’t get down, Dennis,” she told him. “It’s like this for everybody. I’m not kidding. Nobody just gets on a snowboard
and takes off. Nobody.”

“Yeah, right,” Dennis said, looking away from her.

“Hey, remember when you first started skateboarding?” she reminded him. “You kept on saying how you’d never get the hang of
it!”

“That’s true,” Dennis admitted. He smiled at the memory of it. “I guess you’re right.” And that was
when he realized there was a good side to falling — in his total focus on how badly he was doing, he’d totally forgotten about
his terror of going down the slopes!

“I guess there’s a bright side to everything,” he said, getting up and dusting the snow off his jacket.

“Huh?” Tasha said, not understanding.

“Never mind,” Dennis said. “Come on, let’s get back up there.”

On his next run, he concentrated hard on staying relaxed. He tried picturing the slope as a street and his snowboard as a
skateboard. It seemed to help — he made it all the way to the bottom, with only a few awkward wobbles.

“I did it! I did it!” he shouted back up to his friends. He saw them raise their arms skyward in triumph. “Yes!”

From that moment on, something clicked in Dennis. He began to improve quickly, getting the feel of it. Twice more he made
it down without falling. On his third try, he was actually doing it without even wobbling, when two boarders suddenly sped
by him, calling his name.

“Hey, O’Malley!”

Dennis recognized their voices: Rick Hogan and Pat Kunkel. Those two guys always seemed to show up at just the wrong moment.
The last time they’d watched him snowboard, Dennis had landed right on his behind!

The surprise of hearing his name called out threw Dennis off momentarily, and he began flailing again, trying to regain his
balance. He could hear Rick and Pat laughing at him as they pulled up at the bottom of the hill. Dennis gritted his teeth,
determined not to give them the satisfaction of seeing him fall again.

But just as he thought he’d finally righted himself, Dennis’s feet went out from under him, and he tumbled backward into the
snow, sliding to a stop right at Rick’s and Pat’s feet!

H
oo-haw!” They howled with laughter, slapping each other five and pointing down at Dennis. “You’re really cool, O’Malley,”
Rick mocked him. “Do you think you could teach me to snowboard like you?”

That cracked Pat up. Everything Rick said cracked Pat up. It made Dennis want to pulverize them both. But all he could do
was drag himself to his feet and try to ignore them.

Now Robbie came twisting down the hill on his board toward them. “Here comes the rescue squad,” Rick said, and Pat howled
with laughter.

“Shut your face, Hogan,” Robbie shouted. “He’s just learning!”

“Are you his teacher, McIntyre?” Rick asked, wide-eyed. “That explains his style!”

“Cool it, Rick,” Dennis warned. “Don’t be such a jerk.”