by Alex van Tol
Seth is different. He’s so used to being the center of attention that he can’t focus on just doing his own thing. He hucks himself off jumps with a banshee screech, more intent on making it big than on getting it right. Ironically, he suffers the most runins with the forest floor because he’s so keen on showing off. Whatever. He seems like he’s having a good time.
I’m fully blown away when, just before lunch, Mitch takes me aside and tells me that I’ve got the makings of a competitive mountain biker. Maybe even a freerider.
“You think?” I ask.
Mitch nods. “Yeah. I’ve been watching everyone here. You seem to have an intuitive understanding of when to unleash it and when to rein it in, Jamie.”
I feel my face growing warm, and I grin under his praise.
“Cool,” I say. “What about Rico? He looks pretty great too.” I glance over my shoulder to where Rico and Chase are replacing the tube in a blown tire.
“Rico too,” agrees Mitch. “He’s got guts. But your technique is smooth. Doesn’t take you long to get a move dialed.”
I feel suddenly tall. So tall. Like I could reach up and pick the sun out of the sky.
“Thanks, Mitch,” I say.
He nods and claps me on the back. “Keep at it. You don’t need to do anything fancy,” he says. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. You should check out some of the junior competitions.”
“Yeah?” I ask. I’m about to ask him how he managed to get sponsors when Seth roars up and slides to a stop. Gravel pings off his spokes.
“Hey, Mitch,” he pants. “Did you see me wave back there? I took my hands right off the bars.”
“Did you, Seth?” Mitch asks. “That’s great.”
I leave Seth yapping at Mitch and head back into the jumps.
I drop off a lip and coast around, soaring over bumps, my head in the clouds. Mitch Woodgrove thinks I’ve got what it takes to ride competitively! I steal a glance over to where he’s still having his ear bent by Seth. Maybe I can be like him one day and do this stuff for a living. Maybe I can get sponsorships to pay my race fees and help me get through university. Maybe I’ll be rich!
chapter nine
We stay at the jump park for the whole day. We break for lunch, sitting in a loose group on a bunch of stumps and logs. When there’s a break in the conversation, I decide to ask Mitch about his sponsorships. He must have some great backing, because all his gear is top-notch. And he drives a brand-new Toyota Tundra. And I heard him telling Chase earlier that he doesn’t work at a day job.
Seth beats me to it. “So, Mitch,” he says. “Is it hard to get good sponsorships?”
Mitch shakes his head. “Not really,” he says. “Not if you’re good.” He glances at me.
I grin and open my mouth, but Nolan’s jumping in now. “You must make a lot of money from your sponsors, then, eh?” he asks. “To pay for all that primo gear?”
I’m embarrassed for Mitch at this question. I guess Nolan doesn’t think it’s rude to ask pointed questions about how much people make. But, honestly, I’m wondering the same thing. Maybe sponsorship is the key to making millions.
Mitch isn’t fazed by Nolan’s nosiness. “Sponsorship is enough to keep you in good gear,” he agrees. “And they pay for your races and travel. But that’s about it. It can be hard to make a living just out of racing.”
“But how can you survive, then?” Rico wants to know. “If you’re always training, when do you work at a regular job? How do you pay your bills?”
Mitch shrugs. “I don’t exactly live in a mansion. And I make a mean pot of KD!” Suddenly Seth sits forward. “Hey, you guys,” he begins in an I’m-going-to-tell-you-a-secret tone. “You’ll never believe what me and Jamie saw when we were out biking last night.” I look sharply at Seth, but he’s not looking in my direction.
“Seth,” I say too loudly.
Everyone swivels their heads to look at me. Seth’s eyes widen as he realizes his mistake. I can feel Mitch’s eyes boring into me.
Nolan looks from Seth to me. “What?” he says. “What did you guys see?”
I think fast. “You know we weren’t going to tell anyone about the bear scare, Seth,” I say.
Seth’s quick to catch on to my lie. “Oh,” he says. “Sorry, man. I forgot.” He fakes a worried glance at Chase and lets me steer the story. I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Duh,” I say, pretending to be irritated with him.
Our ruse worked. I’ve moved the topic away from drugs and toward something different. Of course, in mentioning bears, I’ve now got Chase’s attention. I’ll have to think something up on the fly. Damn Seth, anyway.
“You guys saw a bear?” Chase demands. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because it was small,” I say. “And it was far away. Just a yearling, I’d say.”
“Yep,” Seth says. “It ran away when it caught sight of us. We must’ve scared it off.”
I can’t resist his setup. “Scared you pretty good, little brother,” I tease. “You should’ve seen your face.” I turn to the others. “Seth was completely freaked. Nearly pissed his pants.”
“Oh, whatever,” Seth scoffs. “I did not.”
“Yeah,” says Rico. “I noticed you were acting a bit weird after you came back from your ride yesterday. Thought you might have seen something while you were off in the trees.”
Mitch looks at us. “You guys should be careful about going into parts of the forest you’re not familiar with,” he says. His smile is gone, and his face is deadly serious. “You never know what you might run into.”
Seth stares at Mitch. I nod, dry-mouthed, unable to find any words to reply.
“That’s true,” says Chase. “You should always make as much noise as you can while you’re in the trees. If a bear knows you’re coming, she’ll get out of your way. They don’t like running into us any more than we like running into them.”
Mitch stretches like a lazy cat. “Well,” he says. “You guys up for another afternoon of humping and bumping?”
“Hell yeah,” says Rico.
“Bring it!” shouts Nolan.
Seth and I exchange a nervous glance before packing up the remains of our lunch and following the others back into the bike park. That was a little too close for comfort.
After lunch, we work hard on our bikes. Up, down, up, down. Nobody breaks anything, but there are a fair number of cuts and bruises. Mitch takes a few jumps where he turns his whole bike around in a 360 underneath him. Maybe even two. I can’t tell because it goes so fast. He shows us a few flips too. They’re crazy great, but I can’t even imagine how he found the courage to ever try his first one. He watches all of us as we ride, giving us tips and telling us when things are really working.
I’m still nervous about what went on between us at lunch, but Mitch is acting like nothing happened. Gradually, I relax back into a fun day of biking.
Mitch talks a lot about safety, and how important it is to stay in control. “I know you guys hate to hear it,” he says, when we’ve taken a break to patch our broken, oozing skin, “but you’ve got to stay in control. Go slow, especially if you’re on a trail you don’t know or if you’re trying a trick for the first time. Don’t be stupid like me,” he says.
Nolan raises his eyebrows. “Mitch Woodgrove and stupid don’t seem to go together in the same sentence,” he says.
Mitch shrugs. “See these teeth?” he asks, giving us a wide grin.
We look. His teeth seem perfect. Straight, even and white.
“Not yours?” asks Rico.
Mitch shakes his head.
“What happened?” Nolan wants to know. He’s fishing around in his bag of trail mix, chasing a blue M&M. He pops it into his mouth and squints through smudgy glasses at Mitch’s teeth.
“Entered a dip too fast on a trail I didn’t know,” Mitch replies. “I bombed into it, hard. My front shocks squished out. No bounce left in them. I flew over the handlebars and took a digger, right into
the other side.” He smacks the top of his helmet to show us the way he hit the wall. “Hammered it, square on,” he continues. He opens his mouth and points to his front teeth. “Cracked all four of my teeth on the top,” he says.
I grimace. “Ouch.”
Seth shudders. “Gross.” His hand goes to his mouth.
“Yeah, gross and ouch,” Mitch agrees. “Lucky I didn’t have my tongue between my teeth right then. I’d have bitten it in two.”
It’s quiet for a moment as we consider this.
“Nice,” says Nolan. “Thanks for the image, Mitch.” He turns to the side and pretends to yark.
Mitch laughs. “Let me be a lesson to you guys. Stay in control. You might not look as cool as you would if you were hammering… but you never look cool as Captain Crash.”
chapter ten
The day is over long before I want it to be.
Chase asks Mitch whether he’d like to stay for supper. Mitch shakes his head. “I’ve got to bounce,” he says. “Got some stuff to do tomorrow.” He looks around. “Nice spot up here though, isn’t it?” he asks no one in particular. “You’ve got a great bunch of bikers here too, Chase,” he continues, looking around at us. “There’s some real talent here.” He looks at me when he says this. I give a small nod in return.
Nolan doesn’t look up from cleaning his glasses on his shirt. “Aw, shucks, Mitch, you’re making me blush,” he says. Everyone laughs.
Chase walks Mitch to the end of the valley we’re camped in. I watch him leave, disappointed that the party’s over.
We stretch our muscles out, trading stories of our experiences on the jumps. After a day like that, there’s no way we’ll be able to get out of our sleeping bags in the morning unless we’ve stretched.
Seth and I are on supper detail tonight. When we’re all limbered up, we start our supper preparations. I rummage through our food bag in search of some ingredients to put our meal together. Looks like it’s going to be spaghetti and tomato sauce. No meat. I sigh.
Chase rejoins us at the fire pit. “What’s cooking, Jamie?”
“Spag,” I say. “No meat though. Bummer.”
“We’ve got that veggie meat,” Chase reminds me. I brighten. Yeah, of course! I had forgotten the little package of meatless ground beef we’d brought.
“That’ll work,” I say.
“We used to pack fresh meat on our hikes when I was at camp,” Chase says. “We always had to cook it by the third day, because that’s when it would start to go green.”
“Ugh,” says Seth, screwing up his face in disgust. “That’s nasty, man.”
Chase nods. “Yeah. The good old days,” he says, “before we learned about food safety.” He lies back on the gravel and props his head on his rolled-up fleece jacket. “I like watching you guys work. You’re doing a good job.”
“You’re just lazy,” I say.
Chase spreads his hands in mock helplessness. “Hey, it’s the counselor’s job. How can I supervise you if I’m too busy helping?”
I laugh.
Nolan rolls his bike up to the fire pit. “I’m starving,” he says, snagging a piece of carrot from the pile Seth is chopping. “Glad you guys’re cooking tonight.”
“Where are you headed?” Chase asks, looking up. A flame of worry blooms inside me at his words. I had forgotten all about freebies. Nolan and Rico get to go off exploring now. I’m worried that Nolan and Rico will go down that trail, even though Seth and I tried to make it sound lame and boring when we got back to camp last night.
Nolan’s next words calm my worries. “Can we go back to the jumps?” he asks.
“Hmm,” says Chase. “If you’re doing tricks, you should probably have me with you. No offense, Rico, but you’re still in training. And to tell you the truth, gentlemen,” he says, lacing his fingers behind his head, “I’m pretty comfy.” He closes his eyes. “I don’t exactly feel like getting back on my bike.”
“We won’t get hurt,” says Nolan. “Rico’s a counselor. And I’m totally Mr. Cautious and In Control.”
Seth laughs. “Mr. Falling On His Ass is more like it,” he says. “Don’t forget, Nolan, we’ve all seen your true colors.”
Nolan raises his chin and peers down his nose at Seth. “It was a moment of weakness, I’ll admit,” he says. “Seriously though, Chase. We’ll be careful. It’s only three minutes away. If one of us gets hurt, the other can bike back for help.”
Chase thinks about this for a moment. “You got your first-aid kit, Rico?” he asks.
Rico nods and pats the bag on his back.
“I want you catching lighter air than we did today,” says Chase. “No funny stuff. And I want you back here at six.”
Nolan digs for his watch under his glove strap. “Hey, that’s only half an hour,” he protests. “The other guys got way longer last night.”
“Yeah, and look at what they ran into,” says Chase. “A bear, out foraging at dusk. Not cool.” He shakes his head. “You’ve got half an hour. Twenty-nine minutes, now that you’ve spent one of them arguing with me.”
Nolan sighs and grabs his handlebars. “Half an hour,” he agrees. I listen to the crunch of gravel under his wheels as he rolls away.
Half an hour comes and goes. Nolan and Rico have yet to return.
“They’re probably so stoked on the jump park that they’ve lost track of time,” says Seth. “That place is wicked awesome.”
“It was wicked awesome to have Mitch come and hang out with us,” I say. I’m about to ask Chase what he thinks of the stuff Mitch was talking about at lunch, but Seth goes off on me.
“Yeah, you’re his little pet biker, aren’t you?” Seth asks. “He thought you were just the shit, didn’t he?” He’s half joking, but it makes me mad all the same. I shouldn’t let it get to me, but I can’t help myself.
“You’re just choked that you couldn’t make him fall in love with you, like you can with everyone else,” I say.
Seth narrows his eyes at me. I’m pretty much the only person who can push Seth’s buttons. I can see he’s trying to decide whether to get into it or not. He glances at Chase, who’s stretched out on the ground nearby. I think he’s asleep. “Whatever, Jamie.” He lets it go. I let it go. We work in silence for a while. Seth walks to our sump spot and pours the water off the noodles.
I glance at the sun. It’s already edged down behind the mountains. “They’re late,” I say. “Doesn’t seem like Rico to miss curfew. Nolan maybe, but not Rico.”
Seth shrugs. He’s still too mad to talk.
I let a few more minutes slide by. Then I remember the computer on Chase’s bike. He was showing it off today at lunch. It logs miles, checks your heart rate, maps terrain and shows you where you’re going. I’m sure it could tie your shoes too, if you let it. But I know for a fact it has a clock on it.
I go to where Chase’s bike is resting against a tree near the tents. The screen is blank, but as soon as I touch it, the display lights up. 6:23. Holy smokes. Those guys have been gone for almost an hour.
I head back to the fire pit, a bad feeling growing in my stomach. Suddenly I’m certain Nolan and Rico aren’t at the jump park. “Seth, did you happen to notice which way Rico and Nolan went?”
He doesn’t look up from where he’s stirring spaghetti sauce on the stove. “They went to the jump park, didn’t they?”
“That’s where they said they were going,” I say. I nudge Chase’s foot gently with my toe. “Chase.” I nudge harder. “Chase, wake up.”
Chase opens his eyes and sits up. He shakes his head and passes a hand over his eyes. “What’s up? What time is it?” He looks around. “Where are the others?”
“I don’t know. I was just trying to figure that out. It’s almost six thirty,” I say.
“Six thirty?” Chase is on his feet. “Where the hell are those guys?” Without waiting for an answer, he jogs off to get his bike. “I’m going out to the jump park to see what’s what.” He shoulders his pack and mounts up
. “You guys stay put.”
“Sure thing,” says Seth.
“Be right here,” I add. And then he’s gone.
chapter eleven
Five minutes later, Chase is back. “They’re not there,” he says. His voice is clipped, angry. “Where the hell are they?”
Seth and I exchange glances. Then Seth looks at the ground. My stomach drops. I don’t even have to ask. Damn.
He spilled it to the others.
“The grow-op,” I say. “I knew you couldn’t keep it quiet, Seth.” I’m fuming, but Chase is even angrier.
“What?” Chase barks. “What grow-op?” He looks from me to Seth, then back at me. “What grow-op, Jamie?” He’s almost shouting.
We don’t have much time to waste. If those guys have somehow found their way out to the grow-op, they might be in big trouble right now.
I take a deep breath and tell Chase everything that happened last night. The single track, the double track, the dozens and hundreds and thousands of plants. Our race home. I watch his face flip-flop between anger and worry.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me about this?” Chase asks when I’ve finished. “What were you thinking?”
“We weren’t thinking,” I admit.
“We were worried that you’d make us pack up and leave,” says Seth. “And that if we left, we would miss our chance to go biking with Mitch Woodgrove.”
Chase is quiet for a moment. He shakes his head and then squeezes his temples. He looks at me. “I’m disappointed in you, Jamie,” he says gravely. “I thought you had better judgment than this.” My ears grow hot, and I drop my eyes.
“Seth,” Chase barks.
“Yeah?”
“Throw me my pack. I’m calling the camp. We need to get those guys out of there. We need help.”
Seth tosses Chase his pack. Chase unzips it and digs for the sat phone. A second later he hauls it out, presses the power button and starts dialing.