Wild Ride (2 page)

Good thing I already took care of my bike!
he thought as he tightened the trucks on his board with a wrench.

Saturday morning was bright and sunny. Jonas hurried through breakfast, filled a water bottle, grabbed some snacks, then found his father to tell him he was heading for the skatepark.

Mr. Malloy swiveled around in his office chair. “I’ll be out most of the day. Can you fix your own lunch?” When Jonas nodded, he added, “Oh, I’m going to leave you a list of chores to do when you get back. I’ll be home by three. Have them done by then, okay?”

“You bet!”

In the garage, Jonas debated whether to skate or board to the park. When a shaft of sunlight glinted off his bike, however, he decided to ride instead.

“I should take it for another test drive to be absolutely, positively certain it’s all in order,” he said to himself. He shoved his water bottle into its carrier on the bike’s frame and put his inline skates and safety gear into his backpack.

The pavement zipped along beneath him as his legs pumped the pedals. At the end of his street, he gave the hand brakes a gentle squeeze. To his left was the road that would take him to the skatepark. If he went right, he’d be on the road to the mountain trails.

He looked up the right side of the street wistfully.
Soon,
he reminded himself, and turned toward the skatepark.

When he arrived, a small crowd had gathered at the front entrance. Jonas was locking up his bike when a hand slapped him on the back.

“Your ride is looking primo, Jo!” X said, eyeing the bike. “Maybe a little cleaner than I’m used to seeing it, though.”

Jonas grinned. “No kidding. If that bike doesn’t see mud soon, it’s going to go crazy!”

Mark, Bizz, and Charlie appeared a moment later. Charlie and Bizz were wearing their inlines. Mark was carrying his and rubbing his elbow.

“Why don’t you put those on?” X asked, pointing to his skates.

“I did have them on,” Mark admitted. “But I took a little spill, so I figured I had better take them off until I got here.”

“Where’d you fall?” Bizz wanted to know.

Mark looked sheepish. “In my driveway. Guess I’m a little rusty.”

X threw an arm around his shoulders. “Don’t worry, it’ll all come back to you. Once you know how, inline skating is as easy as falling off a log!”

Mark winced. “Did you have to mention ‘falling’?” Their laughter was interrupted by the sound of Alison’s voice. “Okay, everybody, this is it. The moment you’ve been waiting all winter for!” She unlocked the skatepark gate and swung the door wide open. “Let the extreme sports of spring begin!”

Jonas and the others gave a
whoop.
With one last glance at his bike to make sure it was locked tight, he made his way to a bench and took his pads and skates out of his backpack. He quickly traded his sneakers for his inlines, strapped the pads over his elbows and knees, and pulled on his safety gloves. He could hardly wait to hit the ramps and rails!

He stood up and started forward. Suddenly, a hand grabbed him from behind and pulled him back.

“And just where do you think you’re going?”

CHAPTER FIVE

Jonas whipped around. Bizz was holding his shoulder with one hand. In the other were two hockey sticks.

“Where do you
think
I’m going?” Jonas pointed to the ramps. “It’s time for some action!”

Bizz handed him the stick. “It’s time for action, all right — roller-hockey action! You
do
have your mouth guard, right?” Jonas nodded. “Well, then, come on! Everybody’s waiting!”

X, Charlie, Mark, and Savannah were already at the roller-hockey rink. After Bizz and Jonas joined them, they chose sides for a three-on-three contest, took up positions, and started the game. They were no more than five minutes into it, however, when a familiar voice stopped them.

“Well, if it isn’t the loo-oo-sers!” drawled a boy named Frank. He was straddling a mountain bike. Behind him stood three other boys, also on bikes. “What are you doing on
my
rink?”

Last fall, Frank and his team had challenged Jonas and his friends to a game of roller hockey. Both teams had agreed that the winners would have the right to use the rink whenever they wanted, regardless of who was there first. Frank’s team had won the game — and now they could kick Jonas and his friends off at any time.

“C’mon, guys, let’s get out of here,” Jonas muttered. He started to leave.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, no need to rush!” Frank said. “I’m not quite ready to jump on the rink.” With a smirk, he hopped off his bike, hooked a chain through a link in the fence, and snapped a bike lock shut. “There! Okay, now I’m ready! Bye-bye, loo-oo-sers!”

Jonas felt frustration well up inside of him. But he tried not to let it show as he skated past Frank and his friends.

“Well, guess hockey’s out for today,” Mark said. “How about the ramps?” Jonas nodded, but the others headed for the rails. When Jonas saw the line of kids waiting for their turn on the half-pipe, he wished he’d gone to the rails, too.

The line moved slowly, but Jonas finally got his turn. Heart beating fast with anticipation, he steadied himself on the edge of the deck, then dropped down into the curve of the half-pipe. Wind rushed past his ears as he swooped down one side, did a one-eighty turn, and zipped up the other side. He went back and forth a few times, then his turn was over.

Mark finished a moment later. “Wanna go again?” he asked.

Jonas shook his head. He loved the half-pipe, but the thought of waiting another twenty minutes for less than a minute of action didn’t seem that appealing. “I’m taking a snack break,” he said.

Mark shrugged and lined up for another turn. Jonas skated to a bench and took out a pack of cookies. Suddenly, a fat raindrop landed on his nose. A moment later, the skies opened up and it began to pour.

Jonas shoved the last cookie into his mouth and unsnapped his inlines. The heavy rain made it hard for him to put on his sneakers, and by the time he got the second one tied, the park was practically empty. As he got up to leave, he spied Charlie and X skating toward the park exit.

“Wait!” Jonas called, hurrying after them. But they had already disappeared into the pounding rain.

“It’s just a little rainstorm!” Jonas yelled. “Come back!”

CHAPTER SIX

“Rats!”

It had taken Jonas another five minutes to get to his bike, unlock it, and adjust the pack on his back. Now, as he navigated through the rain, wet spray shot up from the back wheel, dousing the seat of his pants. He was sure he’d be soaked through by the time he reached home. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the storm cleared up, and the sun was peeking out by the time he reached his neighborhood.

Figures,
Jonas thought.
Stupid April showers. They stick around just long enough to turn everything to mud.

He turned a corner. The mountain had been to his left most of the ride home. Now it was directly in front of him. Jonas slowed to a stop.

Not that mud’s always a bad thing,
he thought, gazing up. He stared at the mountain for a moment, thinking. Then he checked his watch. It was twenty minutes to twelve.

Plenty of time for a quick ride over to the mountain.
He pushed down on his pedals.
In fact, I probably
should
go to make sure the rain didn’t wash away the sign Alison put up.
He pedaled faster.

Fifteen minutes later, he reached the trailhead. Alison’s sign was posted nearby: TRAILS IN NEED OF REPAIR. PLEASE STAY OFF UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE — THANK YOU. He wiggled it. It was a little loose but otherwise seemed fine. He lingered for a moment, staring longingly at the trailhead. Then, with a sigh, he hurried over to his bike and got ready to leave.

“Yeee-haw!”

A loud shout echoed down the mountain. It was closely followed by another and then by a sound like branches breaking. Surprised and curious, Jonas wheeled his bike back to the trailhead. That’s when he saw, in the muddy ground at his feet, a set of freshly made bike tracks. Someone was biking on the trails!

Jonas’s first thought was to ride to the Community Center to tell Alison. But as he threw a leg over his bike, he heard another triumphant yell and loud laughter. Whoever was on the trails was having a great time. He paused.

You could be having a great time, too,
a small, sly voice inside him whispered.
No one would ever have to know. And after the morning you just had, don’t you deserve it? Besides, someone else has already ignored Alison’s sign. What harm can it do if you ignore it, too?

Jonas turned his gaze to Alison’s sign. The front was white with black letters. Slowly, he reached forward, grabbed the sign, and twisted it around. The back of the sign was unpainted. It blended perfectly against the dark-green pine trees. Unless you were looking for it, you’d never know it was there.

I can always say I didn’t see the sign,
Jonas told himself. His mind made up, he took off his heavy backpack and hid it behind a rock. Then, with one last glance over his shoulder to be sure no one was watching, he mounted his bike, shoved off with one foot, and rode onto the tree-darkened trail.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The trail Jonas chose snaked back and forth, leading him up the mountain slowly. The incline wasn’t that steep, but it was steady. He was forced to shift down to the lowest gear in order to keep moving. Even then he had to stand up and pedal in spots.

As he gradually made his way up the path, he wondered if he’d run into the other bikers. But when he stopped to take a drink, all he heard was rain water dripping off the trees. He realized he was on the mountain by himself.

Maybe I should head back,
he thought, suddenly feeling uneasy. He glanced at his watch and saw that he’d been biking for twenty minutes. It would take him only half that much time to get back down. If he turned around now, the ride would be over before it had even begun.

He returned his water bottle to its carrier and began pedaling up the trail again.

It took him twenty more minutes to reach the top. By then, his legs were burning and he was breathing hard. He gulped some more water and looked over his shoulder down the winding path. His uneasiness returned.

He’d biked this trail many times before, but never so early in the season. Nothing looked familiar. The trees, many still bare of leaves, were wet from the rain and looked like black skeletons. Boulders he was sure he’d ridden by countless times seemed more jagged than he’d remembered. Murky puddles dotted the path.

There was no turning back, though, not unless he wanted to walk his bike all the way to the bottom. A quick glance at his watch told him he didn’t have time for that, not if he was going to get home in time to do the chores his father had left for him. If he didn’t get the chores done, his father would want to know what he’d been doing instead. With a stab of guilt, Jonas realized that he didn’t want to have to answer questions like that.

So he took a deep breath, gripped his handlebars, and shoved off.

At first, he feathered his brakes, applying light pressure to keep from descending too fast. He shifted his weight to his rear tire, too, remembering that he was less likely to flip over his handlebars in that position. When the ride got bumpy, he stood up and let his legs absorb the worst shocks.