Roller Boy

by Strykowski, Marcia; Strykowski, Marcia;

  A girl sitting near him let out a shrill wolf whistle for the ball players. Standing with everyone else, Mateo began to feel excited for them and realized he wasn’t jealous of the team anymore. He had his own thing.

  Mateo peered through the crowd of people until he could see Jason. He looked happy and Mateo missed hanging out with him. He hardly ever talked to Jason now, although he did still sit at the same lunch table. But he made sure to always sit at the very end, so the other kids wouldn’t have to talk around and through him.

  After Coach McGillicuddy went on and on about how awesome his team was, the cheerleaders came out and did a short, sloppy routine. It was cool to miss math class and Mateo was clapping as loud as anyone by the end.

  Coming home from school after the assembly, Mateo spotted the kids from Dudd Street hanging out on the corner. He almost ran in the other direction, but since they’d already seen him, he kept walking straight for them. It wasn’t easy to avoid them most days because Dudd Street was this long road that went along just behind Main Street. There was something about the kids who lived there. For one thing, there were lots of them, mostly from four big families, each with several boys who all hung tight, from Sash all the way up to kids much older than Ava. Mateo figured they probably weren’t the worst group in the city, but they got bored easily and could make your life miserable, especially if you were a short, skinny kid who roamed the same streets. Not everyone in the ’hood seemed to mind them. They’d grown up here, same as Mateo, and he wasn’t fooled. He knew that the kids from Dudd Street acted differently in front of adults. And he’d rather walk down the streets of his neighborhood without worrying if they were going to pop out of an alley at him.

  The area had looked busier a minute ago. Mateo stopped walking and decided to cross in the next gap in traffic. No such luck. A hand grabbed his arm. He turned to find Sash glaring at him. Even though Sash was a little bit older, they were in the same grade. It was as though Sash had some addiction and couldn’t stop picking on Mateo.

  “Got any mula, Tomato Head?” Sash said with a snarl.

  Mateo shook his head and tried to break free, but Sash had him tight. “No money,” he said. “I never have money. You know that by now.” A sudden click sounded to his left, like the flick of a knife blade. It came from one of the bigger guys whose face bore a desperate look, slack-jawed and glassy-eyed.

  Mateo’s head swirled as if he had a fever. Maybe he’d underestimated how bad these guys were. They wouldn’t kill him here, not right out in the middle of the sidewalk in broad daylight. Would they? Beads of sweat dribbled down the back of his neck.

  The huge dude on his left, wearing a yellow head-wrap, peered down at him and Mateo could almost taste the ashy stench of his breath. He squirmed and tried to break free again. The kid pressed his knee hard against the side of Mateo’s leg to keep him from getting away, which made Mateo stumble and land flat on his back on the sidewalk like a slab of chicken waiting to get roasted. Sash stood beside the other guy, still scowling down at Mateo. For the first time ever, Mateo felt like he might pass out.

  “Break it up,” said a voice. Mateo looked up through a pair of knees to see a cop stroll by. It was as if he thought they were just a bunch of pals hanging out. Didn’t matter, because the guys moved back and gave him some air. Mateo struggled to his feet.

  “Hello, Officer,” said one of the gang. He spoke in a voice as though he was coming home from choir practice. Made Mateo wonder if the knife at his throat had been all in his head. He never did feel anything sharp after that clicking sound. Maybe one of the guys had snapped shut a container of Tic Tacs.

  With his hands on his knees, Mateo gulped and swallowed, gasping for air a couple of times. Then he took off running. As he flew past two old guys playing checkers on a stoop, they didn’t even look up from their game, as if they had all the time in the world to ignore terrified kids flying by.

  Once again Mateo made it home in one piece and got settled into the Friday night routine. He was still shaking inside, but he made himself act normal in front of Mamá and Ava. He helped Mamá get the table ready while she cooked another one of his favorites—chimichurris.

  “You okay?” asked Mamá.

  “Sure, I’m good.” Mateo put on a cheerful face.

  “Where is your friend? Where has Jason been?”

  Mamá’s words made Mateo’s throat feel funny, as if something was stuck in there. He swallowed, gave Mamá another smile and said, “He’s around. I guess we’ve both been busy.”

  He didn’t have time to dwell on Jason though. All the while Mateo went through the motions of setting out the plates and silverware, he thought about how freaked out he’d been, cornered there in the middle of the city with his life on the line. He needed to figure out how to shake those guys off his case, and fast.

  Chapter 7

  Turned out, Ava got a job shelving books at their local

  library branch on Saturday mornings. She was as excited about that as she got about everything. “Can you imagine?” she gushed. “All I have to do is put the books back on the shelves in the right order. I’ll be a library page, a city employee, and I’ll get to hang out around all those books and earn money besides!”

  “What time do you go tomorrow?” Mateo asked between bites of dinner.

  “Library opens at nine,” said Ava, as she flew past him to her chair. “But I want to be early my first day, so I guess I’ll leave by eight.”

  He nodded and took another mouthful of his chimi burger, while Mamá asked Ava one question after another.

  Mateo had been thinking of Ted’s generous offer all week. He could sit home alone while Mamá and Ava went off for the day or he could get out there and do something for himself. What would it hurt to try skating for a while longer? If it didn’t work out, no one would know or care. It’s not like it would be posted on the bulletin board for his whole school to see.

  He cleared his throat. “So, uh….”

  Ava continued to babble about her new job. “I’m going to save up for a smartphone and then….”

  Mateo took a deep breath, clunked his fork onto his plate and interrupted. “So, I guess I’ll be hanging out at Roller City tomorrow.” Ava turned to look at him and Mamá stopped chewing.

  “Really?” said Ava. “But our lessons are over.”

  “I kind of got a job there. For a while, anyway.”

  “Awesome!” She quickly looked at Mamá.

  “How can you have a job, Mateo?” said Mamá. “You are not old enough.”

  “Well, it’s not really for money.”

  “Who is making you do this job? You can stay home and work for no money.”

  “No, Mamá, it’s not like that. I might be able to get skates if I help out there.”

  “Good ones?” said Ava. “As in, not rentals?”

  He nodded and grinned.

  “Why would you need skates if no more lessons?” said Mamá.

  “The skates are just what I hope will happen. For now, I’d be getting free lessons.”

  Mamá shook her head and popped a slice of cucumber into her mouth.

  Slumping more than usual, Mateo picked up his fork and pushed a few crumbs around his plate.

  “Sit up straight, Mateo,” said Mamá.

  He straightened and decided to give it one last shot. “You see, it’s like, well…I really, I mean I really like skating.” He glanced at Ava in desperation.

  She nodded. “He’s good, Mamá.”

  “Good at skating? Where can you get a job skating, when you are grown up—a real job?” Mamá watched him a minute and her face softened. “On Saturdays? Are there other children there?”

  “Sí, Mamá. Lots of kids skate. It will get me out of the house. I’ll meet new friends.” Mateo threw all her favorite causes at her and flashed a winning smile. He’d do anything at t
hat point, if only he could keep skating.

  “Okay. You can try it, but if your grades slip, you are done.” Mamá speared a bunch of green beans onto her fork.

  “Yes!” Mateo pumped his fist into the air. He was relieved they didn’t ask what he’d be doing on the job. He wasn’t too sure himself, but knew the snack area wasn’t going to work after all—too much gluten.

  “We can ride bikes together halfway,” Ava said while they cleared the table.

  “Sure. But don’t mention this to anyone.” Mateo tossed plates into the dishpan. “You know, in case it doesn’t work out.”

  Consequently, now their whole family would take off bright and early on Saturdays. First Mamá to her dental hygienist job, then Ava to the library and Mateo to Roller City. Go figure.

  The next morning, Mateo and Ava headed out the doorway at the same time, a few minutes after Mamá. Ava locked up the apartment, and then slipped her key into her purple purse. “Have you got your key?”

  “Yep.” Mateo pulled his key out of his pocket and jingled it in front of her face.

  “Don’t lose it. You might get home first.”

  He stuffed it back into his pocket and rolled his eyes. “Don’t lose it,” he said in his best girly voice. Ava swatted his arm. They made their way down the apartment stairs and unlocked their bikes from the post out back. It had been a bright day when those bikes arrived. One of Mamá’s coworkers had sold them to her a couple of years back and now the bikes got them everywhere.

  Mateo polished a smudge off the handlebars with the bottom of his sweatshirt and then swung his leg up over the bike seat. Together, he and Ava snaked down the silent city streets, around the deserted construction site and past the sealed-up vendor carts. Pretty cool being out at the crack of dawn on a Saturday—nice and quiet.

  A taxicab driver blared his horn from behind them.

  “Geez,” said Ava.

  “Yep,” said Mateo. “Give it a minute and the city wakes up.”

  As planned, Mateo got to the rink an hour earlier than usual.

  Ted wore an ear-to-ear grin when he saw Mateo shove through the doors into the dimly lit room. “You made it,” he called out from across the rink.

  Mateo shrugged. “Yeah, I’ll try it for a while.”

  The building was empty except for Gert, who was cleaning the snack area before she took her place at the front check-in. Ted was over at the far wall, flipping on light switches. Mateo got his skates on and then caught up to him. He’d made sure to wear a different sweatshirt this time, one not so worn out.

  “Just one thing, though,” he said.

  “What’s up?” said Ted. “Speak up so I can hear you.”

  Mateo glanced over at the snack bar and rolled closer to Ted. He didn’t like discussing his food problems, so he was glad the rink was pretty much empty. “I’ve got this thing, kind of like a food allergy, so I was wondering if I could just work the gift area, and maybe the slush machine. And popcorn. I could do popcorn. I mean, I’ll work hard, whatever you want me to do, just not near the pizza and fried dough, and whatever else might have gluten in it.”

  Ted nodded while he considered. “Gluten. That’s wheat, right?”

  “Right. But it’s in other things, too, like barley, rye, and other weird ingredients.” Mateo wasn’t going to name the endless list—talk about sounding like a walking dictionary. He looked down at his skates. It wasn’t easy to get people to understand how important it was to be careful. “Even an invisible speck is no good for me if I eat it by mistake,” he added in a pathetic voice.

  “I think we can keep you busy.” Ted took off his glasses and polished them with a well-worn cloth from his pocket. “Maybe I can get Alex to handle some of the food, too.”

  “Thanks. That would be great.”

  Mateo retied the laces of his favorite pair of rental skates—well, favorite was a stretch. They just weren’t as beat up as the rest of the lot. He practiced some of the stuff he already knew while Ted was doing something in his office. Seemed strange to be there so early, without music and only the small rink lights circling the floor.

  “Okay, let’s get right to it.” Ted rolled up behind him. “Today we’re going to try backwards crossovers. Put your weight on your left foot and take little steps with your right leg.”

  Mateo tried out the new move.

  “That’s it; you’re pulling behind slightly with the right.”

  “Ooof.” Mateo tipped to the left and wobbled to the right until he was steady again.

  “As you become comfortable, you can bend your left knee more and let your right leg go a little further behind the left foot,” said Ted.

  Mateo bent his knee and followed Ted’s directions, almost biting through his tongue in concentration. Crazy how he was like some dweeb perfectionist when it came to this sport. He felt an enormous grin escape. “Am I doing it?”

  “You’ve got it! Now you’re crosscutting while skating backwards.” Ted looked more pleased than if he’d done it himself. It was pretty cool. They worked on some other things and each time Mateo felt the new moves were coming to him more easily than either he or Ted expected. Muy amazing to be moving faster than he could run.

  Mateo spun his head around every time the entrance door swung open, but only saw Gert getting things ready for opening. She was always rushing around—guarding the entrance, cleaning up after birthday parties, shelving shoes. Halfway through the lesson, Mateo asked casually, “Doesn’t Hayley practice now, too?”

  “She’ll be here later. You’ve got a few more weeks to go before we start the routines.”

  That word again—routines. What had he got himself into? At the end of his lesson, Mateo rolled to the benches and swapped his skates for his sneakers. When he went over to the concession stand, Ted was already there, still in skates, moving some stuff off the counter.

  The rink was fully open now, and Mateo noticed Hayley come in, soon after the music came on. She had her own skate bag, of course. She wore a pale orange shirt and stretchy black pants, the kind Ava called yoga pants. Mateo turned his attention back to his new job.

  After Ted gave him a general rundown of the tasks, Mateo studied a poster hanging on the back wall of the adjacent snack bar. The glamorous couple in the picture had the toes of their roller skates lined up, pointed out, and they both had their noses in the air. Gold medals hung from ribbons around their necks. The plaque below the photo stated 1979 National Champs.

  “Whew, ancient,” he said.

  “What’s that you say?” said Ted.

  Mateo pointed back at the poster with his thumb and grinned.

  Ted glanced over his shoulder and laughed. “The good old days.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Well, the pretty one is Gloria Stanton. She could skate circles around anyone. And that guy catching his breath beside her is closer than you think.” Ted rolled over and stood next to the poster. Mateo looked back and forth from one face to the other, same thin nose, straight eyebrows, and strong chin.

  “Wha…that’s you!”

  “Yep, in my heyday.”

  While Ted showed him how to work the cash register and food machines, the poster kept catching his eye. Mateo couldn’t believe how long Ted had been skating and that he had been a national champion.

  A guy with two kids looking for popcorn came up to the snack bar. Luckily, both the slush machine and the popcorn machine were between the concession stand and the gift area, away from the gluten-covered stuff.

  “Two mediums with butter,” said the dad.

  Mateo got the machine working, squirted in butter, and felt good when he handed them their treats without incident.

  Later, when Mateo was scrubbing all the grease off the snack counter, Ted came by again.

  “How’d your first day on the job go?”

 
“It went good,” Mateo said, thinking Not as good as skating, but okay. He tossed the sponge into a little sink and then washed his hands.

  Ted was still hanging around the area. “Not sure how you’re set financially, but a good pair of skates can really make a skater.” He scratched his head. “We have some nice ones for sale right here at the rink, and some decent payment plans, too.”

  “Yeah, it would be awesome to have black ones like yours instead of those barf beige ones.” Mateo looked up quickly, realizing he’d insulted Ted’s rentals, but Ted was grinning.

  “And if you really get into this, I hope you’ll pop in and practice more during the week.” Ted rolled over to help somebody looking for pizza, while Mateo stayed at the gift shop counter. He wasn’t sure how he could pull off extra days. He’d have to start working on Mamá.

  The gift shop didn’t have too many items, but they were quirky skate things you couldn’t get elsewhere, like florescent laces, pompoms, bells, that sort of thing.

  Mateo was studying whistles through the glass countertop when he heard the soda machine pouring behind him. He turned to find Alex getting himself a drink. Mateo hadn’t talked with Alex much since the time he’d watched him crash into Hayley.

  “So, how’s the skating going?” asked Mateo. “You looked pretty good out there.”

  “I hate skating,” Alex said in a low voice. “I just hang out here to please Gramps.”

  “Oh.” So, Mateo was right about Alex’s heart not being into the sport. He wasn’t sure what to say. For him, the few times he’d really moved along smoothly let him know that skating was the most amazing, liberating feeling he’d ever experienced.

  “Boys are always quitting before they get good enough. Gramps wants them to keep it up so they can enter dance events with the girls,” continued Alex. Then he laughed. “Looks like you’re this year’s catch.”