Roller Boy

by Strykowski, Marcia; Strykowski, Marcia;

  This made Mateo feel weird, like he was some kind of schmuck. Dance? With who? Hayley? He shook the thought away to wait on a little girl asking for a Charleston Chew bar. He got one from the box, collected the girl’s dollar, and off she went.

  Alex was looking at the gift display. “I used to handle this dorky stuff, but now I’m in charge of pizza and fried dough.” He looked proud, like his job was more important than Mateo’s. Just as well. Alex didn’t have to know the details of how he’d moved into his new position.

  Alex was younger than he and a little bit shorter. Maybe that was why he wasn’t Hayley’s skating partner. Or maybe,

  even though he looked pretty good to Mateo, he wasn’t good enough. Or—could he have been asked to be her partner before Mateo came along? Maybe Alex had said no. Mateo glanced out over the rink and spotted Hayley coming out of a jump. Man, she was good. The music was blasting now—a funky hip-hop song.

  He looked back at Alex. “So, have you done any of this dancing stuff?”

  Alex took long loud slurps as he reached the bottom of his soda. Between the music and all the noise he was making, Mateo figured he hadn’t heard his question. Alex tossed his empty cup into the trash can. Mateo watched him pull a pack of cards from his pocket and flip through them.

  He decided to try one more time to be friendly. “Baseball cards?”

  “Yep. I’ve got a Roger Clemens rookie card coming—got it online.” Alex looked up suddenly. “Are you getting paid?”

  Mateo shifted uncomfortably. “I get lessons.”

  “Oh, right.” Alex stuffed the cards back into his pocket. “Gramps likes to help poor kids.” Mateo felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach as he watched Alex roll out onto the floor.

  Maybe he was a charity case. Maybe he wasn’t even that good a skater. He was definitely better than when he started, but that didn’t mean he was good enough to be on a team.

  Chapter 8

  Two weeks into his new job Mateo had to put on a kangaroo costume. He felt like the world’s biggest dork and the inside of it stunk like old socks. Hayley helped him zip up the back. Ugh. He was glad she couldn’t see his face.

  He tried to act nonchalant. “Did you ever have to wear this?”

  “No,” said Hayley. “I tried, though. First I was too short for it and then by the time I was tall enough, one of the guys who used to skate here, took over.”

  “Where’d he go?” Mateo pulled on a huge flashy lime-green T-shirt over the furry costume.

  “He’s still on the speed team, rollerblading.”

  Mateo nodded as his head popped out through the neck opening. He yanked the shirt down until it almost reached his humungous tail. Next, he tugged on the headpiece, which featured an enormous nose. He was all geared up as Roller Roo.

  “How am I supposed to see anything?” Mateo’s voice sounded muffled. He reached up with his hand, but since it was now a giant useless paw, he could only swat at his snout.

  “Here, let me fix it.” Hayley fiddled with the mask until his eyes were lined up better. “Take little steps. You’ll get used to it.”

  “Thanks.” A few stomps later and Mateo was able to roll back and forth along the sidelines.

  Cautiously, he got out onto the floor. Once he learned to balance his massive head against the weight of the tail, it wasn’t too bad. The chicken dance music started and he tried some hops.

  Mateo was beginning to feel less stupid when the two birthday party groups let loose. Thirty or more kids clomped onto the floor, heading straight for him.

  “Stay cool,” he whispered to himself behind his big cheesy kangaroo grin. He danced around a bit, wiggled his stuffed butt—heck, no one knew who he was, so he might as well play the part. He was cracking up inside. This was perfect. He could be as ridiculous as he wanted and no one could see him.

  Then he felt a tug on his tail. He spun a bit to shake off whomever had grabbed hold of him. Next thing he knew he was flat on his back. Yep, for the second time that week, Mateo lay prone.

  Before he could even consider getting up, kids began to pile on top of him. With that giant smile plastered on his face, they probably thought it was all part of a game and great fun. Yay, let’s beat on Roo! Sticky little fists punched him all over.

  “Hey, get off of me!” he hollered. But his voice was stifled, the music was blaring, and the kids were even louder. During a brief lull between beats, he heard a familiar chuckle. Was that Alex skating past? Geez, thanks for the help, buddy.

  The twisted headpiece smooshed his face and pushed his nose crooked; it was as if he were going to suffocate. He blinked his eyes fast a few times. Memories of his run-in with the Dudd Street gang resurfaced.

  Finally he heard Ted’s voice. “Move back, kids. Roo’s all done for today.” Then he and someone else—Hayley?—yanked Mateo up by the arms and helped him stagger to the back room. He kept his red face to the wall while they got him out of the suit. Like he was always telling his neighbor, Mr. Obeneski, he’d survived.

  Mateo’s old buddy, Jason, called him after he got home that day. “Yo, Dog, where you been?” he said when Mateo picked up the phone in the kitchen. “I came by your place after baseball practice a few times, but you’re never around anymore.”

  “Oh, I’ve been around.” Mateo swallowed, and then blurted out, “I’ve kind of got a job.” He set down the juice he’d just poured while he waited for Jason’s next words.

  “Yeah? Where?”

  “Down at Roller City.”

  “Roller City?” Jason paused. “What do you do there?”

  Mateo sat down with a silent sigh. It’d been a while since he’d heard Jason’s voice on the phone and lots of good memories resurfaced. “Cleaning up and stuff.”

  “Maybe I’ll come by and visit sometime.”

  Mateo shot back up to standing. He wasn’t ready for anyone to see him in barf-colored dork skates. “Uh, I’m sometimes just there when the rink is closed, after hours. Besides I’m not allowed to talk much while I’m working.”

  “Weird. Hey, Mateo, you’ve got to come see us play. At least once,” he said. “You love baseball.”

  Yeah, Mateo thought, he really had loved baseball at one time. “Sure, I’ll try to make it down.”

  “Okay, see you in school.”

  “Yep, adios Jason.”

  Mateo still wanted to hang out with Jason, but he didn’t care as much about baseball anymore and that made him feel bad. Really bad. On the other hand, even if he still loved it, he couldn’t picture himself sitting there watching the game when for years he thought he’d be one of the players. All the guys knew he hadn’t made the team. What would they think if he suddenly showed up at the field? He didn’t want Jason telling them he spent his weekends at Roller City.

  He held his breath during lunchtime and somehow got through the last weeks of the school year without seeing the team play.

  Now that it was summer vacation, Mateo spent more and more time at the rink. And not just because it was air conditioned. Each time he pulled up to Roller City and locked his bike onto the outside rack, he felt his excitement grow. From the parking lot, the long, flat-roofed building looked like a drab, gray, graffiti-

  covered warehouse. But when the door was unlocked each morning, a whole new world opened up. On scorching hot days, the blast of cold air was incredible after a muggy bike ride. He was getting pretty good at skating, even though the cheap rental skates continued to scrape against a huge blister on his ankle. Plus, he had to admit, seeing Hayley was a super bonus.

  “You spend a lot of time at the rink,” said Mamá one day. “Do you like that job, Mateo?”

  “Yeah, sure. It’s good.”

  “But you do not get money?”

  “No dinero, but I get other things. I’m learning a lot. I mean, you know, about the business.”

&
nbsp; “What do you do there, at the rink?”

  “Well, I’m near the concession stand. There’s a gift area. I get to thaw frozen pretzels, pump colored syrup into the soda fountains and, if I’m really lucky, I get to deodorize skates after they come off people’s smelly feet.”

  “Are you careful at the stand? Do not forget. Gluten makes you sick, muy enfermo.”

  “Sí, Mamá. Someone else handles all the pizza and fried dough.”

  “Pat says it takes weeks to fix damage to your belly.”

  “Sí, Mamá.”

  Pat, a lady who worked at the dentist with Mamá, had a sister who, like Mateo, had celiac disease. She was always giving Mamá the latest information and even said they were working on a cure, or at least a pill to pop after ingesting gluten by mistake.

  “The pretzels are wrapped in plastic,” added Mateo.

  This seemed good enough for Mamá and she let it go for a while.

  Large groups of little kids would come in for birthday parties and Mateo got to put on that big kangaroo suit again and again, skating around as Roller Roo. Sometimes he’d lead everyone through a game of limbo, even though he could only fit his huge head under the first few levels. Usually some pipsqueak won by squatting down in a shoot-the-duck move. Other times, he’d lead them in a dorky dance like the electric slide. He enjoyed wearing the costume now. Inside the suit no one knew who he was and it seemed he could skate better—put a little more pizzazz into his moves. And of course the kids loved hanging out with a huge stuffed animal on roller skates—Natch, thought Mateo, who wouldn’t?

  “Hey, wanna get a slice of pizza with me?” said Hayley, a couple of Saturdays into July. She and Mateo were sitting on one of the benches while a herd of kids took over the floor. There must have been four birthday parties there that day and it was a relief finally to ditch the costume.

  “I don’t eat pizza.” Mateo immediately regretted that he may have blown his chance to sit with her.

  Her blue eyes got wide. “You don’t like pizza?”

  “Well, yeah, sure I like it.”

  “But, you don’t eat it.” She looked up again while adjusting her skate. “Are you one of those health nuts?”

  “No, I mean, I used to eat pizza.”

  “Well, get something else then. What do you like?”

  “I don’t eat stuff from the snack bar.”

  Hayley stood up and put her hand on her hip. “Is this because you work there and found out everything is gross? Does Alex mix in worms? Or maybe he spits into the food or something?”

  Mateo shook his head, but otherwise ignored her questions. “I’ll just grab a Slushy and then get a table.” He’d searched online the week before and found out this brand of frozen drinks was certified gluten-free.

  Hayley still watched him with a curious expression. He shrugged. “I’ve got my own food. I’ll explain while we’re eating.” He was tired of going into details about his disease to people. It was embarrassing, especially when after he’d finally get through the whole explanation, nobody seemed to understand. Not even Jason. A few months ago, the day after Mateo told him all the things he couldn’t eat, Jason asked him if he wanted to split a bag of licorice. He couldn’t believe even candy could have gluten in it and he kept trying to get Mateo to eat some. Mateo had been tempted. Red licorice had been one of his favorites, but he’d made a deal with himself and with Mamá and was really trying to stick to it. The doctor said maybe Mateo would hit a growth spurt now that he was eating right. Before, his nutrition had been blocked by that stupid gluten. Ever since he’d stopped eating all the wrong stuff, he kept hoping he’d shoot up a few more inches.

  He found a small table in the back corner of the eating area, grabbed a napkin and wiped it as best he could. That crazy gluten could be anywhere in this place of fried dough and pizza. He sat down and brushed his hands on his jeans. By the time he’d pulled out his lunch, Hayley was back with hers. Her phone buzzed, but she ignored it.

  Mateo showed her his lunch—some rice and bean concoction of Mamá’s, plus a couple of cereal bars. And then he explained about the whole gluten problem, and how even a dot of it could attack his gut and make him sick. He blurted it out quickly, glad to get his sob story over and done with.

  “Oh, okay, no biggie,” she said. “My cousin doesn’t do peanuts—I mean like at all—she can’t even smell them, so I’m used to the careful kitchen thing.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe Hayley wouldn’t think he was some kind of weirdo after all. Her phone buzzed again and he watched her check the screen, then roll her eyes.

  As she ate her pizza, she looked around at the other small tables with a pleased expression. Then she looked right at Mateo. “This is almost like a date.”

  He nearly choked on his cereal bar. “Almost,” he mumbled. Did she really think that was a good thing? He had learned the week before that she was from the other side of the city, over the bridge, and was in the grade ahead of him.

  “So, you’re thirteen now, right?” she said, as though reading his mind.

  He nodded.

  “Me, too. I don’t turn fourteen until December.”

  He did a quick calculation. “Cool, we’re only a few months apart,” he said, minimizing the age gap between them.

  “Have you ever been here on a Friday night?”

  Mateo shook his head.

  “It’s like a whole different place. Ted advertises it as ‘Teen Night.’” Hayley made a quotes-in-the-air sign before and after ‘Teen Night.’

  Mateo nodded. “I’ve seen the ads.”

  “It’s one big party scene,” continued Hayley. “They have to use the metal detector and there’s this huge bouncer guy who collects the money instead of Gert. The music’s cool though—lots of hip-hop—and some amazing skaters. They go crazy showing off, crashing into beginners, and going way too fast.”

  “Sounds wild,” he said.

  “It is,” Hayley agreed. “I’ve only been twice, but that was enough for me. When I was younger I couldn’t wait until I was old enough to go on Friday nights. Not anymore; it’s too crowded.”

  “I’m surprised Ted allows it to get crazy like that,” said Mateo.

  “Pays the bills,” said Hayley. “He probably makes more on Friday night than he does all the rest of the week combined.” She chewed on her last strip of crust.

  Mateo was done eating, so he watched Ted show Alex a new skate trick out on the floor. “That’s a cool move,” he said to Hayley.

  She sighed and shook her head. “He’s shown Alex how to do that about ten times. But since Alex doesn’t practice, he never remembers the steps. Whatever, though.” She tossed her hair as she turned back around. “At least Alex spends time with him.”

  “What about his grandmother? Does Ted have a wife?” Mateo asked.

  “She died a couple of years ago,” said Hayley. “It was really sad. Some kind of cancer. Alex’s mom’s a nurse. I felt so bad for all of them.”

  For about the tenth time, Hayley’s phone buzzed. She stood up and collected her trash to throw out. “I’ve got to leave early today—my mom’s waiting for me—but I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

  He said, “Adios,” and then turned around in his seat to watch her leave. She always walked straight as anything, like she owned the place.

  Just before she got to the exit, Hayley spun back around and caught him staring at her. “We start our routine tomorrow!” she shouted across the vast room.

  He gave a small wave and then noticed some kids waiting for rental skates in the space between them, twisting their heads from him to her, as she pushed through the doorway.

  Well, that went well, he decided, his ears not nearly as hot as they would have been a few months earlier. But still, he was nervous about them skating together the next day. He’d seen other couples do pai
r skating, and he worried he’d slow Hayley down. In fact, he was sure of it.

  Chapter 9

  On Sunday Hayley and Mateo began practicing their skating routine after the rink closed to the public at three o’clock. While they waited for Ted to figure out how to fix one of the overhead lights, Hayley went through some early ideas for her singles number.

  “Mateo,” she said. “What music should I skate to?”

  He thought of a song Ava was always singing, but couldn’t remember the title. Big help.

  “I’m down to two,” she said. “I’ll play the beginnings of each. Then you can tell me which one’s best.” Hayley put on music he didn’t recognize. It was kind of quiet with a guitar strumming. She whirled through a short routine. Then she switched to a more familiar tune and again did a few moves.

  Mateo called across the rink to her. “Is this one from The Sound of Music?” he asked.

  “Yep. Which do you like best?”

  He shrugged. “They seem the same—equal.” Again, a big help.

  Hayley went back into the office and flipped through some more music. “There’s always The Pink Panther,” she called out, laughing.

  He thought a minute. “Try that one.”

  Hayley popped it in and then made up some goofy steps to go with it.

  “That’s the one,” he said, shouting over the music.

  “Really?”

  “I like it. It’s got attitude.”

  “Okay; I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Let’s go, kids,” said Ted as he entered the other side of the rink.

  Mateo clunked over to stand next to Ted, and after she paused the CD player, Hayley followed. Even though he could skate pretty well now, Mateo always felt like a klutz compared to her. He usually chose the same rental skates each time. They weren’t as worn out as some, but even these made his ankles flop around and sometimes one of the wheels felt like it scraped, rather than rolled.

  “Okay, kids, let’s see how you look as partners,” said Ted. “Mateo, get slightly behind Hayley. Right, now hold out your left hands together. Mateo, rest your right hand on her waist. Mateo?”