Skateboard Sibby

by Clare O'Connor

  “Mostly.” I nod.

  “Do you?” he asks.

  “Everyone says you changed over the summer,” I say. “I did, too. So, what I really think is that we’re both scared of the same thing.”

  I wait for Freddie to tell me there’s no way he’s scared of anything, but he doesn’t.

  “What?” he asks.

  “Changes,” I say. “My changes are way different from yours, but changes are hard, especially the ones you’ve had. They can make you mad and sad and then mad all over again. I know. I’ve been mad ever since I found out we were moving and then I got really mad after I broke my board.”

  “Whoa,” says Freddie. “You broke your board. How?”

  “You won’t tell?” I ask him.

  “Nope,” he says.

  “Promise,” I say. “Skater to skater.”

  “Promise.”

  “I was doing an ollie in the driveway at our old house. I cracked the deck. Lame. I mean it wasn’t even when I was doing a super dope trick. I tried to patch it with glue and Popsicle sticks, but then the guy came to tell us that someone bought our house. And I just got mad and slammed my back foot down on it and it snapped. I can’t believe I broke my own board. I’ve had it forever and I broke it in half. So now I don’t have one, and we can’t afford a new one. Serves me right.”

  Freddie starts laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask. “You laugh after I tell you all that?”

  “No, no,” he says. “Not laughing at that exactly. I’m laughing because you snapped your foot down on your board and broke the one thing you wouldn’t want to break. Doesn’t make sense. It’s like not riding the board my grandpa gave me. I mean I don’t know why not riding this board makes me think he’ll…”

  Freddie drops his head. And then his head starts bobbing up and down.

  I let Freddie cry.

  When he stops, I help the best way I know how.

  “Hey, you want come over? For pepperoni pizza?” I ask.

  Chapter 19

  It Takes More Than Once

  It’s been a whole week since Freddie and I played his version of S.K.A.T.E. He and Jake are staring at Jake’s phone when Hannah, Charlie Parker Drysdale, Esther, and I get to the skateboard park. There is a bunch of guys standing behind him. They must be watching something amazing because none of them are skateboarding.

  “Serious?” says one boy.

  “Totally,” says Jake. “Look.”

  They’re all smiling, even Freddie.

  And then they start high-fiving each other and all of them except Jake and Freddie disappear into the bowl.

  “Hey, come look. Jackson Jo is reviewing another video Jake took of me,” says Freddie.

  “No way,” I say. “Let’s see.” I walk toward him and Jake, but the others don’t. “Aren’t you guys coming?” I ask.

  “No,” says Hannah. She is standing on Esther’s scooter ready to ride around the park.

  “Maybe later,” says Esther.

  Charlie Parker Drysdale shakes his head.

  “What’s with them?” asks Freddie. “I was nice the night we had pizza.”

  “Takes more than once,” I say.

  Freddie walks closer to Hannah, Esther, and Charlie Parker Drysdale.

  “Um, okay,” says Freddie. “Charlie, your sweater-vest. It’s dope, dude. Come see the video. And not because I’m in it. You can see Jackson Jo. She has blue hair and she wears glasses and gets really good grades in school.”

  They all look at one another.

  “Come on,” he says again. And then he sounds all chill and says, “Please.”

  They walk to Freddie and Jake, and Jake passes his phone to Esther and presses play.

  “No slo-mo,” he says. “Goes right into heelkick, kickflip…and then a super dope pop shove it.”

  “Can you just show us Jackson Jo?” asks Esther.

  “Yeah,” says Hannah. “Cut to her.”

  “Hey, Sibby,” says Freddie, as Jake starts fast-forwarding. “You wanna skate?”

  “You know I don’t have a board,” I say.

  “You can borrow mine,” says Jake.

  “Or,” says Freddie. “Take this one. You can use it until you get a new one.” He passes me his old board and holds up the one his grandpa gave him.

  “Time to take this one for a ride,” he says.

  “Cool,” I say, and I lift my fist to bump Freddie’s. I like it when skateboarders help each other out.

  I put Freddie’s old board down and step on.

  He and I stand back to back on our boards at the top of the ramp.

  “Ready?” I shout.

  “Ready,” he shouts back.

  “One…two…”

  “Hey,” says Esther. “Are you guys gonna compete again? Now?”

  “Yeah, are you?” asks Jake.

  “Do you care?” Freddie asks.

  “Nope,” I say. “I just want to skate.”

  “Me too,” he says.

  And that’s just what we do.

  “…three,” I say, and we’re off.

  Chapter 20

  Go Again

  Mom and Dad are sitting at the kitchen table when I get home.

  “I thought you weren’t coming until later,” I say after I give them both a hug.

  “Being away from you for a week was hard,” says Mom. “We left as soon as we could because we couldn’t wait to see our girl.”

  “Where are Nan and Pops?” I ask.

  “Upstairs,” says Dad. “Your mom and I need to talk to you.”

  “Oh, no. Are we moving again?” I ask.

  “No, Sibby. We’re staying here for a while,” says Dad.

  “Honey,” Mom starts, “Nan and Pops say you broke your skateboard.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Dad asks.

  “It’s not like we can afford a new one,” I answer.

  “That’s not the point,” says Mom. “We always want to know what’s going on with you. You know that.”

  Dad reaches under the table and pulls out a skateboard that looks a lot like my old one.

  “What…?” I reach for the board. “Wait! I broke it. How…?”

  “Turns out Vera got a new one, so we bought her old one,” says Dad.

  “We thought it might remind you of skateboarding with her,” says Mom.

  “I won’t break this one,” I say. “No way.”

  “Well, if you do,” says Dad. “You need to tell us.”

  “Sibby, we want you to keep skateboarding. You’re so good. We’ll do whatever we can to help make that happen,” says Mom.

  “But we had to sell all our stuff, even the house.”

  “You let us worry about money,” Mom says.

  “You can’t stop doing what you love,” says Dad.

  “Then why did you?” I ask him. “I mean you loved building houses. But then you quit.”

  “It was time for a change,” he says.

  “Dad,” I say. “Come on.”

  “Jason,” says Mom. “I think she’s on to you.”

  Dad looks at me, “So okay, busted. We moved because—”

  “Because you quit when you lost your confidence all because of a bully,” I blurt out.

  “What?” asks Dad.

  “Who told you that?” Mom wants to know.

  “I heard you talking,” I say. “And then we started selling everything.”

  “Sib,” says Dad. “It’s good to stand up to a bully, but you also need to know when it’s time to put your energy somewhere else, somewhere more important. I left my job because your mom and I decided it was one of those times. And I have an opportunity for a job somewhere else.”

  “Where?” I ask.

 
“Out West,” he says. “I’ll be gone for a few weeks but then home for a few weeks. Your mom and I wanted you both to be closer to Nan and Pops until we know for sure whether or not this even works. Nothing is for sure.”

  “You’re going to live there?” I ask. “For weeks?”

  “It’s temporary,” he says.

  “And I have a job interview at an office downtown next week,” says Mom. “Honey, changes are part of life. It’s all about how you look at them. Let’s look at this as an opportunity. Not many kids get to live with grandparents who love them so much.”

  “I know,” I say. “And I have my skateboard back.”

  “Enjoy it because tomorrow starts a week of no skateboarding,” says Mom.

  “What?” I say.

  “No helmet?” she says. “Really?”

  “CHARLIE PARKER DRYSDALE!” I shout.

  “Hey,” says Dad. “He was right to say something. Sibby, you can’t go fooling with your safety. And you can’t go breaking promises to your mom and me because you’re mad. Got it?”

  “Yeah,” I mutter. “I do.”

  “Hey down there. Can we have dinner soon?” yells Pops from upstairs.

  “Come on down, Dad,” Mom says and walks out of the kitchen.

  Dad starts to follow her.

  “Hey, Dad, wait,” I say.

  He stops. “What is it?”

  “I’m sorry I was so mad at you before. I mean, I didn’t know why I was mad at first, but I do now.”

  “Well, that’s great,” he says. “Tell me. What’d I do?”

  “It’s not what you did. It’s what happened. Changes are scary.”

  “I’m sorry, Sibby,” he says. He stops looking me in the eye and looks down at the floor. “I never want you to be unhappy. And not the kind of unhappy you feel when I ask you to put your bike in the garage. I mean really unhappy.”

  “But I’m not,” I tell him. “Living here is different, but it’s good.”

  “Sibby, you have no idea how glad I am to hear that.” He looks me in the eye again.

  “One more thing,” I say. “Doubting can make you lose confidence, no matter how straight you stand up.”

  Dad smiles. “It sure can.”

  “Pops says the secret is up here.” I point to my forehead. “He says, when you start doubting, you start losing. You’re good at building houses. Keep thinking about that. It’ll be okay.”

  “You’re super dope smart, you know that?” he says, and we high five.

  I put my helmet and pads on and take my skateboard outside and ride it up and down the sidewalk in front of Nan and Pop’s house. As I’m riding, pictures pop into my head, but not the same ones as before. I don’t see Vera’s sad face saying good-bye, Dad’s sad face selling our tent, or my broken skateboard.

  I see all the changes and how they turned out okay. I see Nan and Pop’s kitchen table, me eating pepperoni pizza with Freddie while Charlie Parker Drysdale, Hannah, and Esther eat pizza Margherita, me laughing with my friends, bumping fists with Jake, skateboarding at the new skatepark, Pops passing me my lunch in the nice new bag he bought that’s an actual lunch bag, Nan’s hugs.

  I ride along the sidewalk and see a weed.

  I decide to ollie over it, but change my mind at the last minute and do a kickflip.

  I trip on the landing, bail, and land on Charlie Parker Drysdale’s front lawn right on my backside.

  “Hey, was that a slam?” I hear him call from the front window of his house.

  “No,” I say. “Not even close. It didn’t hurt. How long have you been watching?” I ask.

  “Just saw the part where you fell,” he says. “I’m coming out.”

  I watch Charlie Parker Drysdale close the window and disappear inside his house before coming out his front door. I roll over on my side and look back at that weed.

  “Get back up and go again,” I hear a voice say.

  But it’s not Vera’s voice, or Freddie’s, or Nan’s, or Pop’s, or Charlie Parker Drysdale’s, or anyone else’s.

  It’s mine.

  “You got this,” it tells me. And I know I do.

  So I get back up.

  And I go again.

  Acknowledgments

  A heartfelt thanks to the team at Second Story Press. Your knowledge and expertise have shone through in each and every interaction, as have your professionalism, kindness, and enthusiasm. Thank you for making this experience everything I had hoped working with a publishing team would be. And a special thank you for creating a cover that makes my heart do an ollie!

  For Sophia and Maya Ashley-Martin, two of the coolest kids I know. I asked for your expert opinion on my manuscript, which you gave without hesitation. And look what happened. That manuscript became a book. Thank you! Thanks also to Sophia and Maya’s mom, Jillian. I am so grateful for our friendship, for our chats, and for your willingness to read and comment on Sibby in all her versions.

  Thank you to my friends Janet Barlow, Heather Breeze, Christine Chantegreil, and Nadia Stuewer for your help and encouragement. And a thank you to donalee Moulton for your ear, edits, and enthusiasm. Thanks also to the Canadian Society of Authors, Illustrators, and Performers (CANSCAIP); the Society of Canadian Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI); and the Writers’ Federation of Nova Scotia (WFNS). The conferences I’ve attended and the workshops I’ve taken have been tremendously helpful and have provided important networking opportunities. A special note of thanks to Alma Fullerton and the team at SCBWI Canada East. It was at a conference you hosted that I first introduced Sibby and where I met Lynn Leitch. Lynn, you are a trusted friend and a wonderful writer. I’ve learned so much from you. I also want to thank Heather Alexander for reminding me what stories like Sibby’s need to be and do. I loved working with you.

  And now for the people who fill my world with love: my family. A big thanks to Mike for your ongoing encouragement, for all the writing magazines and books you’ve given me over the years, and for always being there. To my sister and cheerleader, Colleen. Thank you for all those reminders that “rejection is part of the path.” I’ve always appreciated your wisdom and your desire to deliver a confidence boost. Thanks to John and Jean for being so thoughtful and for your willingness to help in whatever way possible. Special thanks go to my parents, Don and Mary O’Connor. You are the inspiration for Sibby’s loving and humorous grandparents—and their matching tracksuits! Thank you for encouraging me to read, to write, to dream, and to skateboard. And finally, my complete, knows-no-end gratitude to Meredith. You are the hardest one to thank because “thank you” hardly seems enough. You and Olivia are my inspiration and a dream come true.

  About the Author

  Clare O’Connor is a communications professional and writer. She fell in love with skateboarding at the age of seven and practiced tricks on the dead-end street where she grew up. She now lives in Halifax, Nova Scotia with her family and still owns a skateboard. Skateboard Sibby is her first novel.

  Copyright

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  O’Connor, Clare, 1967–, author

  Skateboard Sibby / Clare O’Connor.

  ISBN 978-1-77260-087-2 (softcover)

  ISBN 978-1-77260-088-9 (epub)

  I. Title.

  PS8629.C622S53 2019 jC813’.6 C2018-905147-7

  Copyright © 2019 by Clare O’Connor

  Cover by Rekka Bell

  Edited by Carolyn Jackson

  Printed and bound in Canada

  Second Story Press gratefully acknowledges the support of the Ontario Arts Council and the Canada Council for the Arts for our publishing program. We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund.

  Published by

  Second Story Press

  20 Maud Street, Suit
e 401

  Toronto, ON M5V 2M5

  www.secondstorypress.ca