by Rita Feutl
I wonder whether Alex will come out. He looked really scared when he left the Den this morning.
But all three boys are there when I show up at the subway station twenty minutes later. We slide through the turnstiles and catch a train right away. The younger boys are quiet.
“We all good?” I ask.
“What if I get caught?” Stevie asks.
Danny rolls his eyes. “You’re not even twelve yet. Nothing’s going to happen. Haven’t you ever been in trouble before?”
“Not with the police,” Stevie says.
“No sweat then,” Danny says. The two younger boys look at me. I nod. But I’m not so sure.
We get off at the university station. Even in the gathering darkness, we can see that the campus is littered with bikes. “It’s like a freaking candy store,” Danny says. “Just remember, expensive bikes. Delta7s, Yetis—”
“And T-I-T tits,” Stevie pipes up.
I cuff him. “Grow up, will you?”
I turn to Danny. “We’d better split up. Make sure you get him back to the Den, okay?”
Danny nods. He and Stevie turn left and head toward the side of a huge building where dozens of bikes nuzzle against each other like ponies in a corral.
Alex walks ahead, letting his fingers slide along whatever he passes—a wall, a railing, a bike. He stops to look at the bike. “Magna?”
“Keep going.”
We pass a mostly black road bike clamped to a fence. But the clamp only attaches to the frame. The removable front wheel is free. So is the leather seat. “We’ll stop by on the way back,” I say.
We keep walking. Students rush past, lugging books and backpacks. Looking like they’re late for class. My parents always said I’d go here one day. And look—I’ve made it! Here I am…learning…how to be a criminal!
Alex spots the Giant first. A flimsy cable lock snakes through the frame and front wheel and onto a bike rack. He whips out the bolt cutters but struggles to slice through the cable. I take them from him and clamp them closed. My shoulder twinges, but I ignore it.
“Get on it, Alex, and head back.”
“I don’t know the way,” Alex says.
I don’t want him hanging around here with a stolen bike. “Wait for me at that Dumpster over there, okay?”
Alex nods. I turn away. Suddenly, I want to be far away from here, away from this scene of the crime, away from where someone can put a hand on my shoulder and accuse me of stealing. But I have to get another bike. Another eight bikes, just to pay off my debt to Dwayne.
I find the next one a block away. I can’t believe my eyes. It’s a Yeti, with the suspension platform that Trevor’s buddy needs. Its frame is chained to a parking meter. Just the frame. I almost start to laugh. I wait while a guy walks by, then a man and a woman who are more interested in each other than anything on the street. When no one else comes down the sidewalk, I lift the bike and the chain right over the parking meter. People really are stupid, I think. I wrap the chain around the seat, climb on and head back to the Dumpster.
I don’t see the red-and-blue flashing lights until I turn the corner.
Chapter Ten
I brake and melt into the shadows past the streetlight. Did they get Alex? Should I turn around?
I stop. I can’t just leave Katie’s friend hanging out to dry, can I? I move closer.
The broad back of a big campus cop blocks my view. He’s looking down at something—or someone.
“Pssst! Nick!”
I jump. In the shadows next to me, something moves. I look closer. It’s Alex. He’s okay! I’m so relieved. Then Alex whispers, “It’s Stevie. They stopped him because he didn’t have a helmet.”
I want to smack myself. Of course they would. Why didn’t I think of that? Anyone under eighteen has to wear a helmet in this city. I don’t have mine tonight, but I can get by. A kid like Stevie—he would stick out.
I watch glumly as a second campus cop holds open the door of the cruiser. Stevie climbs into the backseat. When the cop shuts the door, I can barely see the top of Stevie’s head through the window.
This kid is younger than Katie. I can’t let him get hauled away. I start to step out of the shadows, but something yanks me back.
“They’re just gonna take him home,” a voice mutters. Danny is right beside me, perched on a Cell Swift road bike. I watch as the cops stash a battered mountain bike in the trunk of the cruiser and then drive off.
“So, what did you find?” Danny asks, nodding at my ride.
I put Stevie out of my mind. “A Yeti,” I say, all casual.
“And I went back for that front wheel and that seat,” says Alex, bringing everything out from behind the Dumpster.
“Not bad,” says Danny with grudging respect in his voice. I’m not sure I like it.
He pulls a helmet from his backpack and puts it on.
“Why didn’t you tell the other two to bring a helmet?” I ask. “Stevie might not have been caught.”
Danny smirks. “Can’t think of everything,” he says. “Besides, they’re your runts, not mine.” He pushes off into the darkness.
“What’s a runt?” Alex asks.
I ignore him and set off. After tonight’s haul, I just need five more bikes. Then I’ll be done.
Chapter Eleven
My pillow feels hot and lumpy. The night is crawling by. Will Stevie give us up? Will the cops show up and drag me from the house—in front of the Radlers? In front of Katie?
As soon as it’s light out, I dress, snap on my helmet and head off on my bike. I need to ride.
It’s easy to dodge the early-morning joggers out trying to work off the pounds they put on sitting in their offices all day. I make my way to the bike path deep in the ravine, crunching over the falling leaves, breathing in the autumn air. I ride and ride, wheels thrumming on the pavement, making distance, flying, trying to escape. After an hour, I’m starving. The way home takes me right past Ida’s Diner.
I don’t have any money, but I pull up to the side of the building anyway. I watch through the window as Mandy grabs the coffeepot and heads for the tables at the back of the restaurant. Her ponytail bounces as she walks. I like that. I like the way—
“Hey, Nicky. What are you looking at?” Dwayne comes up next to me, puts his arm around my shoulder and drags me right to the middle of the window. I cringe. I don’t want anyone to see me.
Mandy turns, looks at the two of us outside and waves at me.
“Aha!” Dwayne says gleefully. “I do believe our Nicky’s got himself a girlfriend. Pretty little thing. I hear she lost a bike recently. Ida says she just spent good money on some new tires for her.”
I shut my eyes. I’m not sure where this is going, but I know I don’t want to be on the ride.
“Nick? There’s a plate of bacon and eggs in here with your name on it.” I open my eyes. Ida’s at the door, looking at me. I swallow.
Dwayne moves his arm from my shoulder and slaps me on the back. “Sorry, Ida. He’ll have to take a rain check. We’ve got a little business to settle first.”
Ida looks directly at me. “You sure, Nick?”
I nod and turn away, from Dwayne, from the diner, from Mandy.
“Let’s roll,” I say. I climb onto my fixie and head to the Den, not bothering to wait for Dwayne.
Danny’s talking to Trevor when I guide my bike through the door. “I keep telling you I won’t push that stuff,” he says slowly, “but just take a look at this bike. The rear derailleur alone is worth two hundred dollars new.”
“But it’s not new, is it?” Trevor says coolly. “I’ll give you fifty bucks for the bike, and that’s it.”
I’m confused. They’re talking about the bike Danny stole last night. With us. I figured it was one of the bikes I could
use to pay off Dwayne. Obviously, Danny has other ideas.
“I don’t have to sell it to you,” Danny says. He sounds mad. “I could just sell it online myself and pay off what I owe you.”
Dwayne steps past me. I didn’t hear him come in, but suddenly he’s there, grabbing Danny, shoving him to a wall and banging his head against it.
“What comes into the Den is ours,” Dwayne says. “You got that?” He smacks Danny across the face. Hard. Blood trickles from Danny’s nose.
Danny looks dazed. Trevor looks bored. I’m stunned. That’s when Trevor’s buddy walks in. The guy with the shades. The guy looking for the Yeti component.
“You found one,” Shades says. He ignores the punch-up at the wall and heads straight to where I parked the bike yesterday. He’s still wearing his sunglasses. The scar on his cheek twitches as he walks past me. He must be really excited about getting the part.
Dwayne gives Danny a final shake and lets him go. He and Trevor move to the Yeti. Danny wipes his face, then glares at me. I look away. My feet finally unglue from the floor. I set down my bike and move to the three men.
“Wrong bike, Nicky.” Dwayne’s grinning.
I look at the others. Shades finally speaks. “This is an SB66. Mine’s an SB95. Way bigger wheels.”
I nod. Of course. Trevor did mention a late model. But a bike’s a bike. It still means money in my pocket. Or, at least, in Dwayne’s pocket. The question is, how much.
“Take it apart,” Trevor says. I want to ask how much I’m getting. But Dwayne is standing right behind me. He puts a hand on my sore shoulder and squeezes.
“You should see our Nicky strip down a bike,” he says.
I slide away from his hand. “It’s Nick,” I say quietly.
Dwayne punches me playfully in the same shoulder. I keep my face frozen and pick up a wrench and a socket set.
“How long you been doing this, Nick?” Shades asks.
Dwayne jumps in. “He started with us just this week. But he knows his stuff, man.”
I go to work. I lay out the bars, the stem, the fork and all the rest of it while they watch. A ride worth thousands of dollars, reduced to bare components.
Trevor pulls a fifty-dollar bill from a wad in his pocket and lets it flutter down next to the pedals. I stare at it. Dwayne swoops down. Scoops it up.
“This and the two bikes you brought in last night makes seventy dollars, Nicky. You’re over the hump. Just another fifty to go.”
I look at him. “I thought I only owed you a hundred.”
Dwayne looks at Trevor. Nods at me. “Bright boy, our Nicky. You can tell he goes to school. He can add.” He turns to me. “But you forgot about interest, Nicky boy. The longer you take, the more you have to pay me back. Get us five more bikes and you’re done. But get them fast.”
Chapter Twelve
I skip classes and spend the day hunting bikes on the other side of town. Cruising from school to school. Checking out bike racks at grocery stores. Noticing bikes locked to lampposts, bus stops, fence rails. If I see a likely prospect, I lock up my own bike a block away, then walk back to the new set of wheels like I own it. Like it’s mine. I only use my bolt cutters once. The other two are unlocked, just begging to be taken. I ride off on them, pick up my own bike and head back to the Den. Then it’s time to pick up Katie.
Alex is waiting at the curb with my sister. No Stevie. I haven’t thought about Stevie since this morning.
“Guess what?” Katie jumps up as I skid to a stop. “Stevie got caught stealing a car!”
“It wasn’t a car,” says Alex.
Katie looks at him. “How do you know? Were you there?” Alex says nothing. Katie turns back to me. “And he had a gun. That’s what Laura said. Stevie’s mother came to the school this morning. Laura was in the office getting a late slip and she heard everything. He made the people get out of the car and then he jacked it.” I can tell she’s proud of being able to use the word jacked.
Alex rolls his eyes.
“Where’s Stevie now?” I ask.
“They’re sending him to a new school. Laura said his mother was crying.”
“Get on your bike,” I tell her. “Mrs. Lamont’s waiting.”
Alex looks at me. “Meet you at the Den?”
I nod and ride off. Katie chatters on beside me. My mind is a million miles away, wondering about what I’m doing. Funny how one little action seems to cause a whole bunch of other actions. One stupid broken TV leads to stolen bikes and a crying mother and—
“Nick? Nick! Who’s this guy?”
I snap out of my thoughts. We always ride along the side streets, where the traffic is lighter. Cars usually skirt around us, leaving us some room. But a black Grand Cherokee is keeping pace, right beside us. I look over. Trevor’s pal Shades stares back. He’s alone. He looks from me to my sister and then does the oddest thing. He salutes me, steps on the gas and drives off.
“Nick! Who. Is. He.” She says each word carefully, as if I have trouble understanding.
“Just some guy, okay? Can you hurry up? I’ve got places to go.”
Katie is quiet for a moment. Then she says, “I know you’re meeting Alex. Where do you guys go, anyway? Where is this Den? Maybe I should come too.”
“No!” I shout. It’s bad enough that Shades has seen Katie with me here in the street. The last thing I want is for her to get her mixed up with Dwayne and Trevor. I remember Danny’s face this morning.
“I don’t want you anywhere near there,” I say. I have trouble getting my voice down to a normal level.
“Okay, okay. Calm down. Mrs. Lamont’s gonna think we’re fighting.” We pull into the Lamont driveway. Katie jumps off her bike. “Will you be home when I get in? You’ve been out a lot this week.”
Home? Where’s that? “I’ll see, Katie.” If I find two more bikes, I’m home free.
I wheel around and take off. I don’t look back. Once again I’m flying, skimming along the surface of the earth, pedals spinning. Full tilt.
Which is, of course, when I see a girl with a ponytail step right into the street in front of me.
Chapter Thirteen
The thing about my fixie is that the drive chain and the cranks are directly connected. There’s no spinning freewheel, which means you can’t ever coast. You’re always pedaling. And the only way to brake is to lock your legs against the turning pedals and bring the back wheel to a skidding stop.
Five months ago, I could barely do this. My leg was so shattered, I could hardly get on the bike. But I’m stronger now. I pull up beside Mandy and skid. And then, just because I can, I spin around so I’m facing backward and keep pedaling—backward.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey yourself,” Mandy says. She’s moving pretty fast. I barely get a glimpse of her freckles before she strides across the street.
“What’s the matter? Someone slip an ice cube down your shirt?” The words are out before I get a chance to think about them.
The start of a grin flickers across her face, but Mandy keeps walking. “I’m late. These days I’m always late. Someone stole my bike from school. So now I have to really book it to get to work on time.”
I nearly stop pedaling. This is my fault. “So climb on,” I say. “I’ll give you a lift.”
She looks at me but keeps walking. “My aunt says you hang out with people who are trouble.”
I nod. Then I say, “I can’t help it if you throw ice all over the place. Talk about trouble. You could have killed that old guy sitting at the next table.”
She hits me. Lucky thing she’s on my good side. But she’s smiling. “You’re…nice,” she says finally—and keeps walking. I’m stunned. What do I say to that? A pedal smacks the back of my leg. I catch up to her. She can really move.
Ask a s
afe question, I tell myself. “How come you’re always at the diner?”
“I live with my aunt. Just for now. My mother…she needs some time to herself,” Mandy says. She looks directly at me, and the gold glints in her eyes glow in the September sunshine. “Aunt Ida said I could live with her. But I can’t just mooch off her. So I work before school and after school. Especially now. I need to buy another bike.”
I have to do something. I pull ahead of her, lean forward on my handlebars, then crank backward on the pedals. I skid, jump off and bow down in front of her. “My chariot awaits you,” I say.
“Is that thing even safe?”
I cross my heart. Then I hold out my hand so Mandy can use it to steady herself. She shifts her backpack to the front, climbs on and settles herself on my handlebars.
I push off, careful to hold my bike steady.
Mom used to grow these vines with small, colorful flowers by the back door. She called them sweet peas. In the summer, they were the first thing I smelled when I went out and the last thing I smelled when I went in. Mandy’s ponytail smells of sweet peas. Good thing she’s facing forward. She can’t see the grin on my face.
We pull up to Ida’s Diner. I can see Mandy’s aunt through the window. She stops pouring coffee to look us over. I wave at her. Ida nods at me. It’s a small nod. Then she turns away. Mandy climbs off the bike.
“Your hair,” I say. “It smells…”
Mandy freezes. A frown creeps across her face.
“It smells like these little flowers my mom used to grow,” I say. “Like sweet peas.”
The frown disappears. “Why, thank you, kind sir,” she says. As she goes inside, she’s grinning too.
Chapter Fourteen
I head back to the Den, pumped. I have an idea. I want to rebuild Mandy’s bike. Find her better tires than the ones Trevor took. Maybe a new set of cables. I’ll leave it outside the diner. Maybe with a note that says From a secret admirer. Or maybe I’ll just tell her I took it so I could build her a better bike.