Erik vs. Everything

by Christina Uss

  Allyson came with him to the park again on Friday for the next mountain bike practice. (After practice on Wednesday, Allyson had called her parents to ask if she could stay a couple of weeks longer with her aunt and uncle and come home the same time as Erik and Brunhilde. “I’m, like, helping and stuff?” she explained. Her mother said it was fine as long as she took on her share of triplet care.)

  Allyson once again ignored Erik in favor of gazing at Dylan, which suited Erik fine. He joined the riders in weaving back and forth between a set of six orange cones, taking it super slow, and not losing control of his bike even once.

  “Errr-ik!” called Derek as he passed the final cone.

  “See, he’s good, right?” said Fuzz.

  Erik went back to the end of the line to try it again. And again. And again.

  Both Ragnar and Allyson came along on Sunday. Ragnar immediately joined a rugby scrum and was pummeling fellow players up and down the playing field in no time. When the guy who owned the rugby ball had to go home, Ragnar wandered over to watch the Lake Park All-Stars attempt a synchronized bunny hop over a ditch. (Erik practiced his own mini hop over a dandelion.) Dylan made it across the ditch. Everyone else ended up laughing in a heap in the mud.

  Coach Gary laughed too. “Didn’t you hear me say bunny hop, not muddy flop? Oh well, we’ll get it next time. Everyone okay?” They were. The coach seemed to be wildly successful at keeping his team free from serious injuries. “A reminder, folks, that we are now two weeks away from the big race, and I’ve got an entry form for each of you. Please remember to fill out your bike’s business sponsor’s name and have your guardians sign the waiver. Bring them back to me Wednesday, and we’ll start doing some training on the actual course over there.” He pointed up the hill toward a thick section of woods.

  Erik picked up an entry form and walked over to Allyson and Ragnar.

  Ragnar said, “Can I see that?” After reading over the paper, he grinned. “Wow, cousin, that’s amazing! Let’s go tell the rest of the family your plan.”

  Erik waved goodbye to the team as they dispersed for the day. Allyson was sketching a picture of Dylan’s face on her forearm and didn’t want to be disturbed, so he and Ragnar started back toward the house without her.

  Ragnar said, “That must be one amazing coach. In a few practices, you went from constantly hiding under things to entering the Race Down Bonebreaker Hill.”

  “The race down what, now?” Erik asked.

  “You know, this mountain bike race,” Ragnar explained, waving the entry form. “They had to cancel it a few years back because too many kids were taken away in ambulances at the finish line. Mom wouldn’t even let me do it, she said I soaked too many pairs of pants with blood and she was running out of material to sew new ones. Bonebreaker Hill is definitely a challenge fit for a Viking! How many pairs of pants do you have? Do you think it’s enough? Maybe you can borrow some of my old ones. I have a maroon-colored pair, barely shows bloodstains at all.”

  Erik pressed his hands on either side of his forehead to keep his brain from exploding. “Are you kidding me?”

  “You know a Sheepflattener never kids about blood,” Ragnar said. “See? Check it out.” He handed the paper over to Erik, who saw that indeed, the title of the race he had agreed to enter was THE RACE DOWN BONEBREAKER HILL, sponsored by the Way Northern Minnesota Youth Mountain Bike Association (WNMYMBA). There was a disclaimer at the bottom stating

  Participants agree that barreling down Bonebreaker Hill on two wheels is an inherently dangerous activity. No participant shall hold responsible the WNMYMBA for grievous harm or utter destruction of bicycle, clothing, or body, including loss of limbs or organs detached and reinserted into unfamiliar areas. Enjoy the ride!

  Underneath was a space for the date, the rider’s signature, and a guardian’s signature.

  Well, that’s the end of that, Erik thought with more than a twinge of disappointment. Might as well recycle this form right now, because there’s no way I’m signing my name to agree to any sentences with the words grievous harm and utter destruction in them.

  When they arrived home, Ragnar immediately started bragging to the whole family about Erik’s decision to enter the Race Down Bonebreaker Hill.

  Aunt Hilda made a tsking sound. “Well, I’ll go find some patches for your pants, Erik,” she said.

  “Och, Bonebreaker Hill,” mused Uncle Bjorn. “A fine challenge, that place is. Hard to get through it on two feet, let alone two wheels. Did you know it was named for Bill Bonebreaker, the best dogsledder this area’s ever seen? Nearby Tarantula Lake was named for his lead sled dog, Tarantula. And Man-Eating Shark River is named after his best breeding dog, Man-Eating Shark.” He paused. “I never noticed before how misleading some of those names are.”

  Brunhilde’s eyes lit up while reading the race entry paperwork. Before bedtime, she spent an hour arranging a new section made out of Legos on her three-dimensional map of Erik’s fears. Erik sat watching her work, interrupting her with his protests that he could not, repeat, could NOT race down Bonebreaker Hill. She deflected his every word with an impatient grunt or a firm “Erik, yes!”

  “Brunhilde, no,” he whimpered. “Let’s hang out and read Garfield, or eat popcorn instead.” He looked inside himself, but the solid something in his guts that made him think he could take a stand against his sister was nowhere to be found. It was just fears and phobias all over the place in there.

  Brunhilde moved a tin soldier and said, “No time for that. Brother, you cannot see how excellent this really is. We will continue our daily Dragon Breathing, you will practice mountain biking, and in two weeks, you will conquer every fear in one fell swoop.” Brunhilde brought her arm down in a chopping motion. “I will explain to your coach, one campaign leader to another, how important this is. It will be glorious. Glorious. You will never be the same.”

  “I don’t want to never be the same,” Erik said. He was thinking how the race form had said something about limbs being detached and reinserted in unfamiliar areas.

  Brunhilde made the chopping motion again. “Go to sleep, brother. Tomorrow I will show you how very Viking this is going to be.”

  Brunhilde the freight train was barreling down the track. Erik went to bed, but it was hard to fall asleep. He kept trying envision a way to say no to his sister that would sink into that rock-hard head of hers. He had to do it in a way that was very Viking, but what was that going to mean? As far as he could remember, the Lore said nothing, absolutely nothing, about coping with bossy older sisters.

  Twelve

  The Quicksand of Quitting

  When tired, sleep. When hungry, eat. When faced with the unknown, stand up straight with your shoulders back.

  —The Lore

  Erik could not focus the next morning during breathing practice, thinking about how he’d tell Coach Gary and Fuzz he was quitting, not to mention how to tell Brunhilde and make it stick. It was such a shame that mountain biking had to shift so fast off the list of things he was interested in doing and onto the list of things he couldn’t possibly do.

  He also kept opening his eyes to look at the ERIK VS. EVERYTHING board spread on the coffee table next to the pillow circle. Brunhilde’s new Lego construction was a long, thick hill labeled BONEBREAKER with a piece of masking tape. She’d put the wooden turtle at the top on a mini skateboard, and arranged little Lego animals and people each holding various weapons down the hillside. She had somehow created pits of spikes and trees with swords for leaves. She had used exclusively red bricks to build the hill itself. No other colors. Why does she have to use so much red? Doesn’t she know how much it looks like a bloody combat zone? Duh, of course she does.

  Wednesday afternoon, Brunhilde and Allyson walked Erik over to the Lake Park for the next training session. Every few steps he would think about how much he didn’t want to quit, and how much he didn’t want to not quit. Then he’d try to run back to his aunt and uncle’s house, but one of his sisters wou
ld snag him by a belt loop.

  Allyson said, “You have to stay part of this team, Erik. Anything that Dylan is a part of is super cool. I’ll keep coming to every practice with you, plus I can help you decide what to wear. Doesn’t that make you feel totes fab-yoo-lous?”

  “Do you not see?” Brunhilde exhorted him. “This way we need not set up any complicated situations to expose you to exposure therapy. The Race Down Bonebreaker Hill will do it for us. Let us count. There will be”—she started ticking things off on her fingers—“potential for embarrassment, plus criticism with the spectators watching the race, a nice big opportunity to fail since you have had little training, and lots of chances to experience pain and get bloody. I assume those woods are full of wild animals, too. I have heard silent and speedy bike riders can accidentally sneak up on forest animals and then the animals attack in a frenzy. Mr. Nubbins will have nothing on a startled wild mama squirrel. Or a raccoon. Or maybe a badger! Make no mistake, this is your battleground.”

  They were the first people there. Coach Gary was setting up orange cones in a big circle.

  “Erik, my Hair Shack Hero!” he said. He raised his hand for a high-five. “Don’t leave me hanging, dude-a-roni.”

  Erik weakly slapped Gary’s hand. “Hi, Coach. I, uh, I’m sorry, but I need to talk to you about the race.”

  Brunhilde broke in. “This is the most wonderful opportunity for my brother. Riding in this race means more to him than you can know. Hurtling downhill into danger is so very Viking. What species of carnivorous animals live on Bonebreaker Hill? Exactly how many broken bones per rider do you expect?”

  Coach Gary opened his hands. “I know, I know, the race has had a really bad reputation. But things have changed. The organizers this year have done a lot of work to make it much safer. The race route no longer includes Deadman’s Cliff or the Quicksand Swamp. By the way, did you know the swamp was named after dogsledder Bill Bonebreaker’s wife, Quinn “Quicksand” Bonebreaker? Anyway, I guarantee you our team is focused one hundred percent on having fun and staying safe and sound. We’re here to learn some bike-handling skills, support each other, and have a great time. If someone wins a ham, so much the better. As long as we get through race day without getting hurt.”

  Brunhilde frowned. “How unexpected.” She thought for a minute. “I think I understand. If your troops concentrate on bike-handling skills and working together, they will not focus too much on the hazards and dangers. They will give the impression that all they care about is fun.” She turned to Erik. “Sun Tzu also recommends this tactic: Offer the enemy a bait to lure him; feign disorder and strike him. Pretend inferiority and encourage his arrogance. If you pretend to train for fun, your phobias will become weak and lazy, unprepared. Then when you expose yourself to the fears during the race, you will be stronger than they are.” She gave a pleased grunt.

  Erik looked at Allyson to see if she was following whatever Brunhilde was talking about. Allyson wasn’t paying any attention now that Dylan had ridden up. He smiled at Allyson and treated her to his chin-jutting “’sup” greeting. Allyson clasped her hands together and sighed.

  “Oh, Fricka’s socks, what is happening to her?” Brunhilde muttered. “It seems I cannot leave Allyson alone here.” She asked Coach Gary, “Would you like another volunteer to help you prepare for the race? I know little of bicycle skills, but I know much of training a force to overcome obstacles. Have you read Sun Tzu?”

  “The Art of War? As a matter of fact, I have. We’re studying it in my college marketing class,” Coach Gary said. “You think Sun Tzu could apply to mountain biking?” The two of them began talking about harnessing war tactics to improve cycling, and Erik wandered over to where Fuzz was exiting his mom’s car.

  “Hi, Fuzz,” he said.

  “Erik, hey!” Fuzz responded. “Looks like we’re going to do interval endurance drills today, those are tricky. Gotta push hard enough to finish but not so hard you hurl your lunch.”

  “I don’t think I’m going to be doing them,” Erik said. He cleared his throat. “I’m telling Coach Gary today I can’t be on the team anymore.”

  Fuzz looked crushed. “Oh man, that stinks! For some reason, it’s really hard to get kids to join up. I think it’s because everyone has heard that the race is so dangerous.”

  “Isn’t it?” asked Erik. “I mean, aren’t you worried about it?”

  “Worried? Nah,” Fuzz responded. “Coach Gary’s so serious about getting us through the season without any major injuries. I think I’ve learned better how to fall down than how to ride, to be honest.” As he talked, he tripped over a rock and grabbed Erik’s shoulder to steady himself. “See? My mom says I was born accident-prone. I think she signed me up for this so I could learn how to avoid getting hurt so much. I mean, I got more scrapes and bruises from doing a sew-your-own-stuffed-animal class than I have being out here with the team.” Fuzz looked at Erik. “Can’t you stay? It’s less than two weeks until the race. And you’re getting really good.”

  Erik thought about it. He wasn’t getting really good. But no one seemed to care about that. Fuzz genuinely liked having him here, and he liked hanging out with Fuzz. He wished there were a way to get out of racing Bonebreaker Hill without having to quit or take a stand against anyone. He asked, “Do I have to do the race? Could I keep coming to practice and then skip the race?”

  “Maybe,” Fuzz said. “Let’s ask Coach Gary. Would you stay if you didn’t have to do the race? Say yes, say yes!” Fuzz stumbled over his own shoelaces. “I’ll even give you my free packet of seeds from the garden center.”

  “Thanks, I guess, but I don’t know if this will work,” Erik said.

  Fuzz and Erik joined Brunhilde and Coach Gary. Brunhilde told the boys, “Good news. I am going to help with your practice sessions to prepare for the race by explaining Sun Tzu’s theories on waging a successful war. Your team will be unstoppable.”

  Oh, man. Erik tried to envision how Coach Gary’s cheerful let’s-all-have-fun-out-there attitude would combine with his sister’s take-no-prisoners outlook, and it made him dizzy. He looked miserably at Fuzz.

  “Coach Gary,” Fuzz said, “Erik is not a racing kind of kid. He’s a practicing kind of kid. Can he just keep practicing with the team and watch the race instead? Is that okay?”

  Erik tried to summon some of the solid feeling in his guts and added, “I don’t mind doing bunny hops and muddy flops, but bone breaking is way more than I can handle.”

  Other riders gathered as the discussion progressed.

  “Don’t give up, Erik, we need a Hair Shack Hero,” said Lily. The others joined in.

  “Yeah, you just mastered the drop! You are doing so good!”

  “Keep training with us.”

  “’Sup. Are you new?”

  “We gotta keep the team together! All for one and one for all!”

  “Aren’t you having fun?”

  Coach Gary was unfazed. He said, “How about this: keep training, bring me the paperwork next time, and wait and see how you feel about race day on race day. You might surprise yourself.”

  “Yes,” said Brunhilde. “Why not wait and see?”

  Erik liked Coach Gary’s wait-and-see encouragement face more than his sister’s wait-and-see-because-this-is-going-to-happen-and-you-cannot-escape face. He also liked the faces of his teammates looking expectantly back at him. Every other time he’d quit an activity, everyone seemed relieved to see him go. This time, they actually wanted him to stick around. Then again, they’d only seen Erik the Decent Mountain Biker Kid Who Can Fall Down Pretty Well. They’d never seen him facing a fear. He wanted to keep it that way.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. If he kept practicing, maybe he could use the days leading up to the competition to find a way to say no to his sister that would stick. Brunhilde was planning to help the team learn war strategies using Sun Tzu or whatever? Well, he’d turn the tables on her. He bet if he listened closely to the strategy stuff she kept
spouting, he’d find some wisdom about fighting off a sister. And then he’d throw it back in her face. And then probably run away fast.

  “Okay, okay, fine,” he said. “I guess I’ll wait and see.” I’ll wait and see how I’m going to AVOID this race.

  “Hooray, Hair Shack Hero is in the house!” yelled Fuzz.

  “Whoop whoop,” one of the other riders sang out, and a group of them started doing a hip-swinging dance together.

  “Are we going to start practicing now?” asked Dylan, stretching his arms over his head. “We gotta be in it to win it, yo.” Allyson scampered over to his side and offered to rub his shoulders.

  Before she could reach the boy’s shoulders, Brunhilde lunged over to grab both of Allyson’s hands and announced, “We’ve got to go do some things at home now, sister of mine.” She pulled Allyson away from Dylan and gave Dylan the same kind of you’d-better-watch-yourself look the triplets gave strangers who tried to tickle them.

  She steered Allyson toward the path home and said over her shoulder to Erik, “We’ll be back on Friday to help plan your assault on the hill.”

  Thirteen

  Bonebreaker Hill

  Fight downhill.

  –Sun Tzu, The Art of War

  The next practice began at the trailhead leading into the thick pine forest. Coach Gary said, “Gather round, gang. Today we start to train on the actual course for the Race Down Bonebreaker Hill,” to the assembled Lake Park All-Stars. “We’re going to walk it first and see where some of the more difficult sections come up. I’ll also point out the dangerous portions of the trail that are off-limits. And I want to introduce everyone to Erik’s sister Brunhilde. She offered to help us map the trail and come up with our best tactics for each part of the course.”

  “Greetings, All-Stars,” Brunhilde said gravely. “I believe that what Coach Gary is saying can be summed up by the ancient Chinese general Sun Tzu: Know the enemy and know yourself; in a hundred battles you will never be in peril.” She had her purple notebook turned to a fresh page that she had labeled MOUNTAIN BIKERS VS. BONEBREAKER HILL.