Roller Boy

by Strykowski, Marcia; Strykowski, Marcia;

  Mateo tried to do as Ted said. He really did. But his left hand was already sweating just holding Hayley’s hand, and now Ted expected him to put his other hand on the waist of her sparkly pink jersey? He took a breath and did it, his fingers clumsy over the shiny sequins.

  Hayley giggled. “Don’t tickle me,” she said.

  Geez. “Sorry,” he mumbled, as he straightened his stiff fingers.

  “Let’s start with a basic tango. No lifts or fancy footwork, yet.” Ted studied their pose. “We’ll concentrate on timing, poise, and expression.” Then he grinned and looked Mateo in the eye. “Don’t be afraid to look like you’re having fun.”

  After Ted adjusted both of Mateo’s hands and approved their position with a nod, Hayley began to skate. She went slowly at first, while Mateo hung on for his life.

  “Can you loosen your grip? I need to breathe to skate,” said Hayley.

  He quickly relaxed his hand. Again he mumbled, “Sorry.” Would he ever get the hang of this?

  Dim lights flickered overhead. No noise except the swoosh of their skates as they glided across the wood and then the tap-tap as they lifted and placed them in new directions. A smooth, polished rhythm—interrupted only by the grating scrape of Mateo’s left wheel.

  “That’s right. Keep taking little glides,” Ted called after them. “Don’t let go, Mateo!”

  They slowly made it around the floor until they were back in front of Ted. As they came to a stop, Mateo reluctantly forced his left foot to turn correctly. He winced from the pain of his blisters and stumbled.

  “Okay, good,” Ted said, appearing not to notice the trouble Mateo was having. “We’ll break up the dance into small parts, maybe three or four steps at a time. After you learn a section, we’ll add on more. Hayley, you already know most of this, so you say the moves—loud enough for Mateo to hear from behind you. Later, when he’s got it, he can call them out. That way you’ll always be in step with each other.”

  They started off slow again. Hayley began to chant words like hold, cross roll, cross roll, run, run, inside, step swing, twizzle. And then more calls—Choctaw, Mohawk. Mateo couldn’t figure out what the order was. He started thinking about a Native American spiritual ceremony he’d seen once on TV. Although Ted had shown him these steps in a basic way before, he didn’t know them all by name. He continued to copy Hayley and somehow stumbled through the set.

  “That’s it, two-beat swings, now promenade!” said Ted. He watched them wrap it up. “Good. Nice job.”

  After they’d gone through it two more times, they took a break. “Mateo,” said Ted, “I’ve noticed your left foot keeps twisting, just a hair off. It may be the flimsy skates.”

  “Could be.” Mateo shrugged. “I’ll try to straighten it out, though.” No way would he bring up the subject, but for the past few weeks he’d wished more than anything that he could get better skates.

  At first, when they added on a new part, it seemed like he always immediately forgot the previous section. But once he caught on, after spending hours going over the moves, Mateo could see that skating with someone, especially Hayley, was a whole new thrill, as though they were one giant, human machine.

  “You’re liking this, then, right?” said Ted.

  Mateo nodded.

  “Good, you’ll be judged on technique, flow, and how well you match as a team,” said Ted.

  “Judged?” Mateo looked at him while a sick feeling filled his stomach. Yeah, right. Ted didn’t really think he’d get that far, did he?

  “Stick with it. November is months away and you’ll be glad to show off by then. Meanwhile, there’s another smaller meet at the end of August. If you work hard, we can get you in on the next competition.”

  Mateo’s face showed his shock. “Next month?”

  “Just one quick event—boys’ singles—to get your feet wet.”

  Hayley had skated off—more like floated—towards the concession area where she always left her phone and other stuff. No reason to worry about competing in his lifetime, thought Mateo. He’d never be up to her level. Besides, he calculated, Ted must be crazy to think he could get good enough in just six more weeks.

  Chapter 10

  Get a head of lettuce, Mateo,” said Mamá. They were on their weekly trip to the grocery store. Mamá often picked up food after work, on her way home from the dentist office. But on Thursdays, Ava and Mateo met her at Food Mart. Mateo picked out a fresh bunch of Romaine and then went back to their shopping cart.

  Ava pulled a big bag of snack packs off the shelf. “Oh, yum. I’ve been craving these cheese crackers.” They were the store brand and had a sale sticker on them.

  Mamá shook her head. “You know those would leave bad crumbs in our kitchen.”

  Ava sighed a deep mournful sigh. “I’m just looking,” she said, as she put them back and then trudged further down the aisle.

  Like always, Mamá looked torn, wanting to please Ava, but worried about Mateo and his gluten allergy.

  There were a lot more gluten-free items available now than when he’d first started eating differently. They even made pop-tarts without wheat, but most of it was junk food and cost a ton besides.

  “I never liked cheese crackers anyway,” he lied. “I don’t care if she has them.”

  Ava turned around, looking hopeful.

  Mamá still hesitated. “Are they all solo?”

  Ava nodded. “Yep, individually wrapped. I could take them in my backpack and only eat them at school.”

  “Okay, put them in cart,” said Mamá.

  Ava sprang back to the snack display and grabbed the bag, briefly holding it to her chest. “¡Muchas gracias!”

  Mateo grinned. Sometimes he felt he did an age reversal thing with Ava. She’d act like the bubbly little sister and he the serious big brother. He guessed anything goes when you were just hanging out with your fam—you could let your cool slide.

  They made their way to the cash register with a full cart—a huge sack of rice, various bags of beans, lots of fruits and vegetables, and some meat and dairy products. Ava still carried her big bag of crackers. The girl at the register had a long face, pierced in about ten places, and looked as eager as Mateo would be to stand there scanning one item after another. Even so, he’d always planned on applying to Food Mart in a couple of years. It was considered one of the best places for kids to work. One more reason why he wanted to make this skating gig work out now, while he had free time.

  After paying for their food, they each lugged home two grocery sacks. He took the heavy ones and, like every week, they made their way past the kids playing basketball behind the elementary school, past the Laundromat and the popcorn vendor on the corner, down the block towards home—first Mateo, then Ava, then Mamá bringing up the rear, her sturdy legs taking short brisk steps, while the oversized pocketbook she brought everywhere swung from one elbow.

  As always, Mateo rushed ahead, peering down alleyways and hoping they wouldn’t run into Sash and the rest of the kids from Dudd Street.

  Not the most exciting Thursday night activity, but every time he listened to Mamá’s winded breaths behind him as they climbed up all those stairs to the third floor, he was glad he could help. He might not have acted like it, he thought, but he and Ava were lucky to have Mamá in their court, always fussing over them. He wasn’t sure what they’d do if anything ever happened to her. Mateo turned around and waited a minute for Mamá to catch up to them.

  When they got back, Mamá and Ava stayed in the kitchen putting away groceries while Mateo went to pack the hall closet with rolls of paper stuff. Ava was babbling about something coming up at school and what she had to have for class. She was always wanting the latest technology or new clothes for different events—things Mamá couldn’t afford.

  Although he did wish Ava would get one of those brainiac phones. Then she could keep
up with her friends on that, instead of hogging the family computer. Mamá hardly ever used the PC—ha, okay, never. He’d tried to teach her once.

  “When do I have time?” she’d said. “If I want news, I turn on my television. If I want to read, I have my cookbooks. If I want to talk to friends, I go outside.”

  Long story short, he and Ava had to schedule their times, which didn’t always work out. He’d won first dibs on it for Thursday nights. Their computer was kept in a corner of the living room on a table-turned-desk, up against the wall, along with one of their kitchen chairs. Since there were only three of them, using the fourth chair at the desk was a win-win situation. Who wanted to be constantly reminded that Papa was missing?

  The only problem with the makeshift office was that the monitor faced out, meaning no privacy whatsoever. Fine if he was working on homework. Not so good if he wanted to check out friends online. Mateo slipped into the living room, cocked an ear to make sure Ava was right in the middle of a sentence, and then pressed the start button. She kept talking in the kitchen while the clunky, old computer whirred to life.

  He impatiently waited for everything to load, and then slid into the chair and typed his password. He’d been wanting to look up Hayley on Facebook. He figured she had a zillion friends. When his page finally opened, he typed her name in the search box. He knew exactly how she spelled it because of the newspaper clippings plastered all over Roller City’s bulletin board.

  But who knew there’d be so many Hayley Nickersons? The wrong people kept showing up—some of them pretty scary. Maybe she used a nickname and he’d never find her. He continued to scroll. Way down at the very bottom of the list, he found a profile picture of a pair of pink roller skates—a cartoon sort of picture. It had to be her. He clicked on her name. Everything was set to private. He couldn’t see her friends or her pictures. Bummer! He hovered his cursor over the private message button. Should he send her a greeting? Was this really her? Then he realized it was quiet behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and sat up tall at the same time to block the screen from his prying sister.

  Mamá asked Ava a question, and Ava started in yakking again. He turned back around and dropped his hand on the keyboard. Ahh! He’d almost messed up and clicked on the private messages area. He rolled the mouse to get a better look. A message to him from HER was already in his inbox.

  Hey, Mateo, looks like I found u on here! Hayley’s note read—dated about six days before.

  Mateo’s face burned hot, even though no one could see him. That’s when he noticed Hayley had already sent him a friend request, too. Ha, Mr. Observant. He grinned. He was stunned that she’d looked him up. One click and he would be able to see everything—who her friends were, all her photos, everything. But, only problem was, then she’d be able to see his stuff, too. He hardly ever signed in. He had connections to a bunch of guys, and a few of Ava’s friends (what could he say? They thought him adorable), but he certainly didn’t have hundreds of “friends” like other kids had. And no pictures. Well, actually that wasn’t true. He was tagged in a couple of horrible ones from Jason’s page. When they were first able to sign up for accounts, Jason had set his camera to auto-timer, and they’d taken a bunch of stupid-faced selfies.

  He closed the message box and then scrolled through Jason’s pictures and untagged himself from every one of them. Maybe Hayley was never on there either. Her visit six days ago might have been it for this month. Lined up to hit the “Confirm Friend” button, he paused, took a deep breath, and then let his finger hover over the keyboard again. His knee was bouncing up and down like he had to go to the bathroom. Relax, Mateo, he told himself. What’s your problema? He’d be out of time soon. He glanced over his shoulder once more and then clicked to accept her friend request.

  While the kitchen talk continued, he sped through Hayley’s pictures. She had a ton of them. Well, not that many, he guessed, but compared to him, anyone would have a lot. Hers were well organized. One album looked like a family vacation to Florida. Strange to see Hayley in jeans, T-shirts, Minnie Mouse ears, and sneakers instead of skates. Of course she’d look great in anything. Another album was labeled Skate Meets—pictures of Hayley and other girls holding ribbons and trophies. And the third album was full of selfies of her and her friends. He flipped through everything so fast, he barely saw them.

  Ava’s voice got louder as she came into the room. Mateo quickly shrank the page.

  “I need to go online,” she said.

  Mateo glanced at the time on the monitor—6:50. “Mine till seven.”

  Ava sighed and went to her room.

  He brought up the screen, logged out of his account, then returned to the browser’s homepage—one more thing he wanted to search for. He typed in “men’s quad roller skates” and came up with a bunch of hits. Most were for professional skate stores. Two hundred eighty-nine dollars, three hundred twenty—the prices blew him away. There was a little skate shop down at the rink, but the boxes of skates were up high with no prices showing and he wasn’t about to ask. He typed in “basic,” “beginner,” “used,” and the cost dropped, but was still way out of his reach. Before he knew it, it was seven.

  “My turn,” said Ava behind him.

  He clicked out of everything and stood up.

  “Were those roller skates?” Ava asked.

  “Just looking,” he said. And then, feeling like some kind of creep, he bent down and cleared his history.

  Chapter 11

  A couple of days later, on Saturday morning, Mateo had just slipped the furry kangaroo costume up over his skates, when he spotted Jason coming through the Roller City door. Uh oh. His first instinct was to split outta there fast. Jason had become so much cooler now that he hung around with the ball players. He’d think Mateo was a dork if he saw him in this dim-witted outfit.

  Then he realized Jason couldn’t see him behind the wide stupid grin on his big kangaroo head. He pulled it down into place and watched him walk the length of the building, turning his head left and right as he searched for Mateo. Jason walked past Hayley, giving her a once over and then stopped. Mateo sent urgent silent signals across the room to him: Do not ask her if she knows me!

  Then Mateo panicked. He bolted into the little office off the back wall of the rink and grabbed Roo’s head off. He reached up for the zipper pull and got it down about a fourth of the way before it stuck. No matter how he tugged, he couldn’t get a good grip on it and it wouldn’t budge. He peeked out to see who was nearby.

  “Pssst,” he said to a little kid about to skate past the open doorway. He kneeled. “Hey, get this zipper down for me.” For some reason, the kid looked petrified, but after much fumbling, Mateo felt the costume unzip. “Thanks!”

  Mateo took a step backwards into the office, shrugged out of the suit, and tossed it into a corner. He looked out again and saw Jason heading out the main door. Whew, that was close. After suiting up a second time, he peered out—the coast was clear.

  He skated across the floor and just as he got to the other side, in came Jason again. This time he went straight to Hayley and spoke to her. She raised her hand and began to turn her head, ready to point out Mateo. Once again he bolted, yanking off Roo’s head as he went. He tossed the headpiece on a nearby bench, his breath coming in big gulps. He was too far from the office to make it across, yet there didn’t seem to be anywhere else to hide. The snack bar. Maybe he could sneak in there.

  Mateo raced down the side floor while Hayley and Jason made their way slowly around the outside of the rink. They weren’t looking his way and he wondered what they were talking about. He ducked behind the counter and attempted to squish his fat tail in around him. So much for his big skating career, he thought as he continued to lay low.

  “Mateo?” Jason’s voice was way too close. Mateo peeked up to find Jason looking over the side wall at him. “What’s crackin’?” said Jason.

&n
bsp; “Oh, hey, Jason.” Mateo struggled to uncurl himself. “Just looking for my…my contact lens. Must have dropped it here earlier.”

  “Since when do you wear glasses?” Jason’s nose scrunched up. “And a tail?”

  Hayley had stopped to talk with a few girls, but joined them now.

  Mateo stood, somehow got the zipper down, and slipped out of the costume, leaving it in an orangey-brown heap on the floor. He tugged his jeans down another inch and wished for the eighty-billionth time that he were wearing black skates. Then he rolled out into the open and tried to recover his cool—a casual roll, nothing fancy.

  “So, look at you,” said Jason. “You’re on skates.”

  “Yep.” Mateo rolled across the concession area.

  Then Jason’s eyes looked above Mateo and a funny look washed over his face. Hayley was staring at the top of his head, too. They glanced at each other and the two of them started cracking up.

  “What’s your problema?” Mateo reached up to touch his hair.

  “You’re full of static!” said Hayley.

  His massive hair had reached new heights. He could feel it sticking straight up—must have been from yanking the kangaroo head off. He smashed it down as best he could. No wonder that little kid had looked scared when he unzipped him earlier.

  Mateo let out a big breath. “So, do you guys, like, know each other?”

  Hayley shook her head while Jason looked like he’d like to eat her up. Mateo introduced them.

  “Nice to meet you, Jason,” said Hayley. “I’ve got to be somewhere, but see you again sometime.”

  They watched her skate away. Mateo was glad she didn’t seem interested in Jason. I mean, not like he thought she’d be interested in him either. He couldn’t believe that he, and his giant mop-head, had just been stuffed under the counter in that stupid costume.

  “No wonder you hang out here,” said Jason. “She’s hot.”