Grind (2 page)

“Drift apart? That sounds like something you'd hear on a soap opera. What exactly does that mean?”

“It means we just don't have that much in common.”

“You live to board, and she's the best female skater I know.”

“But that's not enough,” I said.

“Well, how about the fact that she's one of the hottest girls in our grade.”

“She's okay.”

“Okay? Lisa's a lot more than just okay.”

“I've known her a lot longer than you have, and there are things you don't know about her.”

“Things like what?”

“For one thing, she likes to be in charge and tell people what to do.”

“Then there's another thing the two of you have in common.”

“You are just such a funny, funny guy. A better question than why I'm
not
with Lisa anymore is why I
am
with you.”

“Who else would put up with you?” he asked.

“Shut up and skate,” I said. “I want to see you land it.”

“Land what?” Wally asked.

“Don't you be the one acting stupid now. You know what I want to see.”

“I know,” he said, shaking his head. “I just wish I
could
land it.”

We were talking about a trick Wally had been working on. It was a heel flip onto the railing and then a front sideboard slide down. Wally had been trying it for weeks and just missing. I knew he could land it if he just kept trying.

“Come on, today's the day. I can feel it,” I said.

“The way you can feel the pain in your knee,” he said, gesturing to the rip in my pants. I hadn't noticed up to that point that the tear was now blood-stained.

“Just try. Don't wimp out. Go on.”

Wally reluctantly nodded.

I wasn't trying to be mean. He was so close. I knew he could do it. That was the problem. I knew it, but he didn't. Every time, he'd bail out because he didn't believe he could land it. That was what was wrong with Wally's skating. He had great feet—probably better than mine—but he'd bail out, jump off his board, when it started to look bad. And with the hard moves it almost always looked bad.

Wally came off the bank, loaded with speed, milking the transition. He popped his board and it landed a perfect 50/50 on the rail! It was a perfect grind, and then he kicked off and the board spun around and…he jumped off, landing on his feet.

Part of me felt like cheering, part felt like
booing and the rest felt like crying. He could be so good if he let himself.

“Nice, Wally. You want to try it again?”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“Why not now? We have all night.”

“Not me. I've got about an hour before I go.”

“What's the rush?”

“Math test, remember?”

Wally and I were in different classes, but we had the same math teacher and the same test coming up tomorrow.

“Just because you don't need to study doesn't mean I don't.”

“I'm going to study,” I said.

“But probably no more than a few minutes.”

“That's all you need to do if you want to pass,” I said. “Passing would be perfect.”

“Perfect is a hundred last time I checked,” Wally said. “If you studied more, you'd do more than just pass.”

“If I studied more I wouldn't have as much time for skating or—”

I stopped mid-sentence as I saw the car glide around the corner. Wally turned around and saw it too. The car came to a stop at the corner. There were two people in the front.

“You think it's security?” Wally asked.

“Not in a car that fancy.”

“Then what are they doing?”

“How would I know?” I asked. “Maybe it's something innocent…like a drug deal. Let's just skate,” I said and shrugged.

I put a foot onto my board and pushed off to get up speed. I went partway up the bank, rocked, and reverted as I came back down. I left the transition, kicked the tail of the board, flipping with my foot at the same time so it flew up into the air, landing again, with me on top! It was a hard flip — a little wobbly, but I stayed on the board.

“Nice move!” Wally cheered.

I shot him a smile and started pumping again, building up my speed. I wanted to try the railing and —

“They're getting out of the car,” Wally said.

I flipped the board up and caught it,
spinning around to look. One guy, the driver, had gone to the back and was leaning into the open truck. The other guy was standing beside the car. In his hands was a camera — a video camera.

“Why would he have a camera?” Wally asked.

I shook my head.

“Do you think they could be security?”

“Why would security have a camera?”

“I heard that in some places they're taping kids so they can prove they warned them to leave, and if they come back they can have them charged with trespassing,” Wally explained.

“That's just bizarre.”

“It may be bizarre, but it's true. We better get out of here.”

I didn't want to leave, but Wally might be right. It was then that I noticed the second guy. He slammed the trunk closed. On his head was a helmet. Tucked under his arm was a board. They weren't security. They were here to skate and tape!

Both guys were older than us — maybe eighteen or twenty. The one guy climbed onto his board. He did a couple of powerful pumps with his right leg, and the board practically jumped forward. Then, out of the blue, he popped the board into the air, spinning a 360 flip and landing back on top of it! Perfect! He wasn't just a skater, he was a very good skater.

The other guy — the one with the camera — ran behind him, lens to his eye, capturing what the skater was doing.

He rolled up the asphalt bank and came back down fakie, hit the flat and kick flipped the board. Another trick hit with no effort. He skidded to a stop right in front of us, kicking the board up and catching it in the air.

“How's it going?” he asked.

“Good,” I said. I didn't know who he was, so I wasn't going to give much away. Being a good skater didn't mean he was necessarily a good guy.

“And for you?” he asked Wally.

Wally didn't answer. I looked over at him. He was wide-eyed and open-mouthed. He looked stunned.

“It's going good…really good…Mr. Bam Bam.”

“Actually, Bam Bam will do,” the man said.

“You know him?” I asked Wally.

Wally still looked stunned, but he squeezed out some words. “Of course I know him.
You
know him.”

“I don't know any…” I stopped mid-sentence as the man took off his helmet to reveal a wild thatch of bleached blond hair. I did know him. It was —
he
was — Bam Bam Bradley. I knew him from articles and pictures in
Thrasher
and
Transworld Skateboarding
and skating videos. He was a professional skater! Suddenly I felt as stunned as Wally looked.

“You really are him … Bam Bam.”

“That's my name,” he chuckled.

It wasn't his real name—that was Brian. He got the nickname Bam Bam because he looked like Fred Flintstone's neighbor's kid who was named Bam Bam. And for the fact that he was famous for destroying his board—pounding it into the pavement or smashing it against a rail — when a trick didn't go the way he wanted. Bam, bam, bam, and that was the end of his board.

“What are you doing here?” Wally sputtered. That was a good question.

Bam Bam held out his board. “I've come to skate, if that's okay with you two.”

“Of course it's okay,” I exclaimed.

“It would be, like, our
honor
to skate with you,” Wally gushed.

“That's cool,” Bam Bam said, “although I hope you'll understand I don't really have a lot of time, so I was thinking maybe I could skate and you two could watch while we film.”

“We could do that,” Wally said.

“Sure, it'll be like watching our own video except it will be live,” I added.

“And in living color,” Bam Bam said.

“I was just wondering,” Wally asked, “how do you know about this spot?”

“I heard about it in a skating chat room on the net.”

“You go into chat rooms?” Wally asked. “I go into chat rooms all the time. Maybe we've talked.”

“Probably not. I used to talk, but now I just listen in. When I used to say it was me, people didn't believe me. They burned me for being a poser.”

I chuckled. Imagine talking to Bam Bam but not knowing it.

“Either of you ever visit my web site?” Bam Bam asked.

“I have,” Wally said.

“I'd like it if people visited it every day. The more hits, the more I get paid.”

“You have to pay to go on your web site?” I asked.

“Not you. The sponsors. You know those ads at the top and bottom of the page and the pop-ups?”

I nodded. I didn't know about his site, but there were ads on almost every site.

“Those people pay me money in exchange for me putting their ad on my site. The more people who visit — the more hits — the more they pay me.”

“I'll go there every day… a few times a day if you want!” Wally offered enthusiastically.

“That's what I like to hear.”

“Speaking of web sites,” his camera guy said, “what would you two think about being on Bam Bam's site?”

“You want
us
on his site?” Wally asked. He sounded as astonished as I felt.

“What trick do you want us to do?” I questioned.

“Not a trick,” the camera guy said.

“Yeah, I'm the only one who skates on my web page,” Bam Bam said.

“Then what do you want?” I asked.

“I shot the two of you reacting when you met Bam Bam,” the camera guy said.

Unless my expression was different than Wally's, he wanted shots of us looking like a couple of idiots.

“That would be incredible!” Wally exclaimed. “Incredible!” He paused. “How much do we have to pay you to be on the page?”

Both the camera guy and Bam Bam burst into laughter.

“You don't have to pay anything,” Bam Bam said.

“But I thought that people had to pay to be on your page,” Wally said, sounding confused.

“Sponsors do. You two aren't sponsors. All I need is your permission, in writing, to put your photos up.”

“You got it! Just show me where to sign!” Wally said excitedly.

The camera guy whipped out a couple of pieces of paper from his camera bag. “First I need to get your names.”

“I'm Wally … Walter Waltniski.”

“Wow, your parents thought the name was so nice that they named you twice,” Bam Bam joked. “Just like me.”

The camera guy asked Wally how to spell his name and then wrote it down and held out the form. Wally signed it without looking. He could have been signing away his soul.

“And you?” the camera guy asked.

“I'm Phillip Falcone.”

“Falcone? How do you spell that?”

“Like the bird, Falcon, with an extra e at the end.”

“Falcon,” Bam Bam said. “That is so cool. Just like Tony Hawk, except isn't a falcon stronger?”

“I don't know about stronger, but a falcon is the fastest thing in the world,” I said.

“Cool. Now if you two don't mind, I've got to get to work. We need to keep updating our web site. If people know there's new
material they're more likely to visit every day… just like Wally here is going to do from now on.”

Bam Bam skated off while his camera guy finished getting my signature — at least I read the form — and then moved into position to start filming. Wally and I stood off to the side.

“Wonder what he's going to do?” Wally asked.

“He does so many tricks, it could be anything.”

“Whatever it is, I know it's going to be good,” Wally said. “He's just about the best.”

Almost on cue, Bam Bam pumped to gain enough power to climb the bank. He did another revert — perfect like all the rest — charged down the hill and ollied up and onto the rail. He tail slid along the rail and then he kicked it out, landing heavily on his side, the board flying off, skittering across the pavement toward us. I bent down and grabbed the board as it rolled by.

“Do you think he's hurt?” Wally asked.

“It's not him that's going to get hurt,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

I held up the board. “Bam, bam, bam.”

Bam Bam slowly got to his feet. He had a scowl on his face as he came walking toward us. I looked at his board. It was beautiful, almost new, hardly a scuff mark on it, expensive trucks and wheels.

“Board,” he said.

Reluctantly I held it out toward him. I had to fight the insane urge to tell him he couldn't have it. Better he bam bam the board than me. I handed it to him and braced myself for the explosion that I
knew
was going to follow.

“Thanks,” Bam Bam said. He turned and started back for the bank.

“Wait!” Wally called out, and Bam Bam turned around. “Aren't you going to…going to…you know…break the board?”

Bam Bam smiled and shook his head. “I don't really beat up boards, especially ones I like.”

“But I've seen the videos,” Wally said.

“That's different. That's part of my gimmick, part of my image.”

“Your image?” I questioned. “I thought you did it because you hated missing a trick.”

“I do hate missing a trick, but if I broke up a board every time I missed a trick, I'd run out of boards
and
money.”

“You don't miss that much,” Wally said. “I watch the videos.”

Both Bam Bam and his camera guy burst out laughing again.

“Man, if we showed you all the misses, you'd be watching a ten-hour video,” Bam Bam said. “We only show you the tricks we hit and a few misses that are most spectacular. It might take me an hour to land this trick I'm trying.”