by J A Mawter
‘My turn,’ called Darcy, dropping his bike to scale the ladder himself. From the top he admired the obstacle course. There were wooden crates all higgledy-piggledy in piles, loose beams and small platforms with planks going from one to another. In some places the plank ended at a small doorway, where the rider would have to duck in order to ride through to the other side. A monstrous underground water pipe lay on its side, providing its own challenges. He walked to the other side of the platform and looked down. On this side the ladder was wider and made of rope, like a giant web eager to trap unsuspecting climbers.
As he watched Clem’s slow progress back up the hill, a movement caught Darcy’s eye. They were not alone. At the far boundary of The Peak, a group of riders were picking their way over a section where the ground looked like a river bed split with cracks and crevices. Darcy watched the intricate steering and balancing that was needed to find the line that would let them cross to the other side.
‘Go, Darcy!’ yelled Tong.
‘Bet you’re too scared,’ teased Clem as she neared the platform.
‘Sh! Sh!’ Darcy was pointing in-between shushes, then covering his mouth, looking like a translator for the deaf who’d forgotten his words.
‘What?’ called Clem, causing Darcy to shake his head in frustration.
‘Riders!’ he hissed. ‘Over there.’
The kids froze. The last thing they were expecting was company. Clem was close enough to tie the rope to the wooden ladder. For the second time she scaled the steps to the top of the platform. She crouched down, then belly-walked over to Darcy, who was now lying down. In no time at all Tong and Mio had joined them, lying on their stomachs. Bella scampered willy-nilly, absorbing the new smells with glee, oblivious to the heightening drama.
Bryce stepped upwards, one rung at a time, but as soon as his feet were higher than his own height, an electric shock of fear shot through him. He hated the way his legs and arms shook but there was nothing for it: he needed both feet anchored to the ground. ‘I’ll mind Bella,’ he called, stepping down, glad the others were too absorbed to give him a ribbing. As he followed Bella and watched her snuffling along the ground, he wondered if it was true what they said about animals. Could they really smell fear?
From their vantage point the kids could see four riders manoeuvring their way through the obstacle course with varying degrees of skill. Darcy noted the leader’s careful moves, how he picked his way through the rocks and dirt, not taking the most direct route but the one that must be safest, and admired his tactics. Because sometimes the shortest route took the longest, and precious time could be wasted in a bike trial. Once over the broken surface the kids rode up a rock ledge and pulled up on their handlebars to balance in a line like Spanish dancing stallions in a horse show.
‘We can’t do that,’ said Darcy with a groan. His heart sank as they balanced for one second, three, five before dropping and zooming off the rock.
‘They’re good,’ said Mio.
‘Much good.’
‘Wonder who they are,’ said Clem.
‘Hope they’re not in the bike trial,’ said Darcy, his heart sinking further as they upped a brick wall without toppling back.
‘Probably are,’ said Mio.
‘Oh, yay,’ said Clem.
Chapter Nine
In the distance the kids could see that the riders had stopped on a level patch of ground and were all balancing in a stationary position. ‘What’re they doing?’ whispered Mio.
‘Just track stands,’ scoffed Darcy.
‘More than track stands,’ said Mio.
It was hard to make out exactly what was going on, but the other riders seemed to be spinning their front wheel with one foot.
‘They’re going backwards,’ said Clem.
And sure enough, each rider executed a very small backward, no-hand circle.
So engrossed were they that they didn’t realise Bryce wasn’t with them, much less approaching the riders, till they spotted him only several metres away, far too distant to be able to warn.
Bryce walked around a set of three cylinders, like giant wooden cotton spools, and came to a crashing halt. His breath came in shallow rasps, sounding like revs in his ears, and his heart went full throttle.
The riders came down in a fantastic display of arms and wheels and spokes, saddles, legs and heads.
But it didn’t take long for them to spring to their feet and advance menacingly. Bryce scuffled backwards, shocked by the fire and fury that blazed on faces partially hidden by chin straps and helmets.
‘Watch it!’ growled one boy.
Bryce noticed that he wore shin pads with short socks; he looked like a nerd. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know you were there.’
‘Could’ve done some serious damage,’ spat another rider, retrieving his bike and inspecting it for dings and scratches. ‘Hey!’ He pointed to the gouge down the tube of his bike. ‘You owe me.’
‘I do not!’
The boy strode up to Bryce, his hands splayed in anger. He stopped, his face close, his body in a fight stance, palms now curled.
On top of the tower the kids could see enough to be alarmed.
‘Come on,’ cried Mio, dropping down the ladder as though it were a fireman’s pole. ‘We’ve got to help him.’
‘Bryce!!!’ hollered Darcy. ‘We’re coming-ng-ng!’ He, too, scooted down the ladder, with Tong and Clem close behind. They charged off in Bryce’s direction.
The bikers gave no sign that they’d heard Darcy, but Bryce knew they must have. Which meant they knew reinforcements were coming. Which meant that their attack, if they decided to go through with it, would have to be swift.
Bryce tried to avoid eye contact with the boy in front of him, which was proving to be as difficult as not looking at an eclipse, even when you’ve been warned of the danger. ‘I don’t owe you anything.’
‘You asking for it?’ goaded the boy.
Bryce had seen this technique before. Get your victim distracted then go in for the surprise attack. Bryce knew what to do. Not give these thugs any more reason to bash him than they already had.
‘I was checking out the equipment,’ said Bryce, praying that his voice held steady. ‘Never been up The Peak before.’
He glanced around, trying to work out how to get away. Another biker sidled up beside the first. With their headgear on it was hard to get a good look at their faces. A third one followed, then a fourth. By now Bryce was a sweat-ball of fear. Four against one was lousy odds. As the fourth one drew close the first one put on his gloves. Another bad sign.
‘No harm done,’ said Bryce. The gloved hand pushed him, and Bryce braced for the hooking punch he knew would follow. He held up his hands, palms open, to his attacker. He knew this sort—probably won his first fight before the end of preschool, the type who’d look for a fight ‘just becoz’. Bryce looked at the boy and read all the tell-tale signs: fists curled tight, head lowered, glance to point of attack. He knew that if he didn’t talk his way out of this quick smart he would be taking the first strike.
‘Do you like beagles?’ he asked. By the way the boy dropped his hands a fraction and raised his head, Bryce knew he’d taken him by surprise. ‘Aren’t they just the cutest? My beagle’s around here somewhere. Name’s Bella. Bella-a-a! She’ll be here soon, she will.’
Bryce breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the boy lower from the balls of his feet and push his head, neck and shoulders back to look around.
‘She’s such a cheeky little thing. And did I say she was a garbage guts? Eats everything in sight.’
Suddenly the boy reared up again. Bryce ducked and side-stepped, the fist whizzing close to his left ear. He waited for the explosion of pain but none came. The boy had missed. A loud grunt filled the air but it wasn’t a kick-to-the-ribs or punch-to-the-head sort of grunt. It was a Bella grunt. She started to growl, hackles raised, nose and tail twitching.
‘Bella!’
She bounded over
.
The biker yanked her out of the way by the scruff of her neck and threw her to the ground. She yelped, then latched onto his arm. Harsh guttural sounds welled from her throat as she clamped her jaws tighter.
‘Ahh-h-h-h!’ The biker shook Bella off and bolted before she could bite him again. ‘Mongrel dog.’
The other riders scuttled backwards, side-stepping the ferocious ball of snapping teeth.
‘Bryce!’ called Darcy. ‘Where are you?’
‘Over here.’
The Freewheelers burst onto the scene just in time to see the other riders leap onto their bikes and take off. They hooted in triumph and surrounded Bryce, slapping him on the back and congratulating each other. Bella weaved in and out of legs, happy to be with ‘her pack’.
But suddenly, everything changed. The riders had gone only a short distance, then doubled around and come back. Now they bore down on the Freewheelers, revenge in their hearts.
Clem scooped up Bella and tried to run. She hadn’t gone more than a few strides when a rider materialised to her right. She screamed, staggered, and darted in another direction.
‘Clem!’ Darcy bolted to her aid but another rider cut between them, forcing him away. Bryce stepped into Darcy’s place. He stood in the path of the rider, like a gladiator facing a lion, and roared, ‘No!’ Spooked, the rider swerved, close enough for Bryce to grab the handlebars and try to shake him off. But the rider wouldn’t give in. He clung to his bike with a vice-like grip, every so often trying to wrench it out of Bryce’s grasp.
Over to the side, Mio and Tong had their hands full, too. They stood back to back while two riders toyed with them. The riders zoomed up close, whizzing round and round, hollering and yelling. At first Tong and Mio stood frozen, their inactivity spurring on their attackers, but then…Mio knew karate and Tong had been taught the art of Viêt Võ Dao, or vovinam: use your opponent’s force and reaction for maximum benefit with minimum effort. Vovinam combined the hard and the soft in fighting, its code being ‘the strong hand on a benevolent heart’.
‘Don Chan!’ hissed Tong. Sweeping his leg in a smooth arc he hooked the rider around the arm. The rider squealed, caught by surprise, as his bike went one way and he stayed behind.
‘Dam Lao!’ A sinewy fist struck the rider’s helmet at the level of the temple. ‘Da Canh!’ A diagonally applied kick to the hip brought him to his knees. There was a quick scissors kick around the chest with a body twist to finish him off. It took all of a few seconds. Tong resisted the urge to jump on his opponent, and instead stood a short distance away, ready to spring at the slightest provocation.
Mio dealt with the other rider. She, too, used a combination of keri (kicks), tsuki (thrusts) and uchi (arm strikes) to defend herself. She smiled as ‘the way of the empty hand’ brought him down.
Spurred on by Mio and Tong’s success, Darcy ran at his rider and flung himself at his opponent’s chest. He flinched as a jarring pain shot through his shoulder but quickly forgot it as he wrestled the boy to the ground. There was a fierce scuffle, with dirt and dust clouding the air. The boy fought hard but Darcy fought harder, and soon he was using his weight to pin the boy to the ground.
Now there was only one assailant left, in a deadlock with Bryce. He was twisting and turning, trying to prise his way out of Bryce’s grasp, but Bryce clung on. The boy brought his knee up hard, catching Bryce by surprise in the low, soft part of the belly. As he doubled up with pain, he screeched to Clem, ‘Run!’ Clem hesitated, torn between her desire to help Bryce and her desire to save herself and Bella.
‘Arr-yee-ah!’ Starbursts of pain shot through Bryce’s head as his opponent headbutted him in the face. Blackness enveloped him. Blood mingled with sweat and spittle. He could feel his legs going from under him, but from somewhere deep inside he also felt an explosion of fury—fury that he’d got his friends into a stupid, stupid fight. It was up to him to end it.
The uppercut to the ribs stunned his attacker. Those one or two seconds were all Bryce needed to claim this fight back. Grabbing the boy by the shirt, he shoved him face down, wanting him to eat dirt. But he couldn’t. The helmet had to go.
Bryce slid his hand under the boy’s chin and tried to snap the chin strap open, but he couldn’t get a grip. As the boy jerked away Bryce could see that his hair was long. It hung from under the helmet in rivers of sweat caked with dust, which was quickly turning to mud. Bryce flipped the boy over and straddled his chest. But as a cry welled to the boy’s lips, it faltered and died. ‘You!’
The boy rocked and writhed under Bryce’s weight, legs and arms flailing, till with a superman push he managed to get away. He scurried to his bike and leapt on, but as he sped off something dropped from his jacket.
It was a headless doll.
Chapter Ten
‘It doesn’t make sense,’ said Clem, the following morning before school. The kids were gathered in the canteen drinking hot chocolate. In front of them on the table lay the headless doll. ‘What boy plays with dolls?’
Mio picked up the doll’s body, inspecting the gaping hole where a head should have been. ‘What boy rips their head off, more like it?’
Darcy took the doll from Mio and stuck his thumb and index finger in the hole, then flipped the doll upside down, pretending it was a puppet. There was something really creepy about the chubby little body, with dimples in its hands and feet, and bandy baby legs where a head should’ve been.
‘Give it to me,’ said Clem. She pulled a doll’s head from her pocket. With a push and a twist she eased the head back onto the body. It was a perfect fit.
‘What’s this tell us?’ asked Mio.
‘That the boy on the bike’s a sissy,’ joked Darcy, but at the look on his sister’s face he shut up.
‘No,’ corrected Clem, her voice thick with impatience. ‘It tells us that at some stage the doll lost its head and somehow it ended up in the tunnel and somehow the body ended up with the boy.’
Mio leant closer. ‘But it doesn’t tell us the boy was in the tunnel. And it doesn’t tell us how it lost its head. Or where the boy found it.’ Mio threw up her hands and shook her head. ‘We really don’t know much, do we?’
‘Mio Shinozaki,’ said Bryce. ‘Lawyer of the future.’
‘I don’t want to be a lawyer.’
‘Well you should. You’d be good.’
Mio pulled a face. Everyone kept telling her she should be a lawyer but in her heart of hearts she yearned to be a teacher. But teachers didn’t rate in her parents’ eyes: they didn’t earn enough money.
Clem looked at the doll. It was pretty new, clean, not like a much-loved doll. ‘I can’t believe what happened yesterday,’ she said, changing the subject. ‘How’d it turn into a fight?’
‘I can’t believe it either,’ said Bryce. ‘One minute Bella and I are wandering along, minding our own business and the next, kappow!’ Bryce dipped his finger into his chocolate then added, ‘It all happened so fast.’
‘Who were they?’ asked Mio. ‘Did anyone get a good look at their faces?’
Heads shook all round.
‘But they got a good look at ours…’
The kids fell silent. It was bad enough to have got into a rumble. It was ten times worse when you couldn’t recognise who it was with. But it was infinitely worse when they could recognise you.
‘I’m pretty sure I could recognise my guy’s bike,’ said Bryce. ‘It was a Pitball, silver. Red tyres.’
Mio interrupted. ‘Only the front tyre was red. The back one was black like any other.’
‘Thanks, Detective Mio.’
‘We’d know it if we saw it again.’
Just as Bryce was about to answer a group of people shuffled into the canteen. Clem took one look then whooped with delight and raced over to them, flinging her arms around one embarrassed boy.
‘Hello, Clem.’ Tong grinned sheepishly as he prised himself away. Darcy, Bryce and Mio bounded over too, much to the amusement of an older couple standing
to the side. Mrs Burridge, the principal, was not amused, however, and clapped her hands for silence.
Tong turned to the couple, grabbed each by the hand and dragged them into the group. With a sweep of his hand he said, ‘Auntie Kim-Ly and Uncle Hai,’ then gestured to the others, ‘this Clem, Darcy, Mio and Bryce.’
‘It is a pleasure to meet you,’ said Auntie Kim-Ly. ‘Tong has told us so much about you.’
‘All good, I hope,’ said Darcy.
‘Some good,’ corrected Tong, and the group laughed, even Mrs Burridge. Tong beamed, letting the whole world see his excitement. ‘Start next Monday. School make me smart.’
‘Full smart,’ said Darcy, giving a friendly nudge.
‘Students!’ Mrs Burridge’s voice rang out. ‘Shouldn’t you be off to class?’ The kids filed out dutifully. Clem was the last one to go through the door, but before she did she bobbed back and called across the vast expanse of room, ‘Good to have you here, Tong!’
Tong smiled, but felt a stab of pain at the same time. He felt such a mix of emotions—joy at starting school and getting away from those tedious English classes, sadness that his mum and dad couldn’t be here, elation that he was being given a fresh start in life, and despair that Tuyen, his brother, was not able to share this experience. His parents and Tuyen were still in Vietnam. Tong ached for the day they could join him.
After school Tong met with the others at The Van. He wore a smile so big it stretched his tastebuds as he announced, ‘My turn for food. Sit still and be quiet.’
‘Yes, sir!’
Tong pulled a sealed plastic container from a bag, placed it gently on top of the TV and peeled back the lid. ‘These called banh chung. Vietnamese eat for Tet, our New Year. Not Tet now. Auntie Kim-Ly make special.’
‘What are they?’ asked Clem.
‘Vietnamese rice cake in banana leaf.’ Tong pulled out one of the square parcels and held it up. ‘We offer to ancestors.’
‘What’s in them?’ asked Bryce, holding up the banana-leaf package tied with string and sniffing suspiciously.