by J A Mawter
jūnin toiro
Mr Shinozaki stared at his daughter, knowing she was the only person in the crowd who would understand.
‘What’s it mean?’ asked Bryce, who was still at the mike.
Every head in the crowd turned to see where he was pointing.
Mio set her sights on Dunk Dog. ‘Tell you later!’
Chapter Twenty-Six
Despite the success of the protest, Mio had unfinished business.
‘Dunk Dog!’ she yelled into the mike, throwing out the words like a challenge.
Heads turned to check where Dunk Dog was. They recognised him by the familiar Dogtown beanie on his head. Dunk Dog ignored her, threw his skateboard on the ground and pushed off.
Catching Bryce off-guard, Mio plucked the handlebars from his hands and swung onto the saddle calling, ‘Got to see a dog about a tag.’
At the sight of someone on a bike the police at the gate jerked to attention.
Mio took off after Dunk Dog. Despite a few jeers and catcalls, there were many cheers and whistles, too.
The police officer grabbed his loudspeaker, calling ‘Riders. Riders! Stop!’
Unsure of what was going on, the council members stayed in their seats wondering if this was part of the official proceedings. However, when the local member, Bronwyn Lindsay, approached Bryce and asked, ‘Is this some sort of skills display?’, this gave him an idea.
Bryce grinned as he nodded, grabbed the mike and started his patter. From his time on the streets he’d hung with enough skateboarders to know the names of the basic tricks. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to this artistic display of skateboarding and BMX riding. On skateboard we ha-a-a-ave Dunk Dog! Most dangerous man on four wheels, capable of leaping whole trees in a single bound, no stairs too high, no curve too tight or ramp too steep. This boy can ride anywhere.’
Screams, ear-piercing whistles and a boom of applause filled the air. Dunk Dog bowed and waved as he rode past on one leg. By now Bryce had worked up to full throttle. ‘Watch him cock that leg! And on the bike, proving size is no indication of talent, is Miss Mio Shinozaki; rules the ramps like a Japanese surfer girl rules the waves.’
Go wavedancer! said Mio to herself.
Whooo-hooo! What they lacked in numbers they made up for in enthusiasm as the BMX support crew let fly.
To his left Bryce could see a police officer reach for his car radio and reel off a series of commands. Bryce wondered how long before the reinforcements arrived, then immediately forgot things as he resumed his place at the mike. ‘Starting off the display is Dunk Dog.’
Dunk Dog approached a rail, bent, crouched, then kicked down on his board. Up he went and up went the board. Up, up, up. With his knees close to his chest he levelled in mid-air, then landed and rolled away.
‘What a superb ollie to start the demonstration.’
Kids clapped. Even councillors joined in.
Bryce started to relax and enjoy himself, unlike Mio who was intent on catching up with Dunk Dog. As she approached the rail she crouched down low, then exploded up, pulling upwards and back on the handlebars so that her tyres rose in the air and she sailed over the rail.
‘Beautiful bunnyhop,’ announced Bryce.
The Freewheelers and their families roared.
Dunk Dog was ready to battle, keen to put Mio in her place. He upped the ante, this time doing an ollie but flicking his board in mid-air so that it rotated 180 degrees, sliding his front foot to the nose, before landing forward and dismounting.
‘Lovely kickflip to noseslide,’ said Bryce.
Mio responded in kind. She rode up a kerb and leapt, flicking her handlebars as she sailed through the air. Pinching the seat with her knees, she caught the handles on landing and rolled away.
Someone from the crowd yelled, ‘You go, girl.’ Bryce couldn’t tell if it was from a skateboard or BMX supporter but it didn’t really matter. Mio was winning over the crowd! Spurred by her success, she headed for a half-pipe at speed, bunnyhopped into the air, rotated her handlebars 180 degrees and crossed her arms.
‘Bar spin to X-Up!’ announced Bryce.
Mio landed and rode one-handed, waving to everyone.
By now, sirens could be heard in the distance. Unease went through the crowd like fleas through a pack of dogs.
Tim and Drew Jacobs began to whimper.
Dunk Dog got up some speed, popped his ollie, then twisted his shoulders and shifted his weight so his whole body and board rotated in the opposite direction before he landed and rolled away.
‘One-eighty,’ cried Bryce.
Slowing down, Dunk Dog approached a railing, ollied, and landed so that half the board was on either side of the rail, before grinding his way along. Then with some slight pressure to the back foot he lifted the nose and came out of the grind, landing back on the ground. Like Mio he did this twice, except that on his second time he threw himself into the opposite stance before landing.
‘Fifty Fifty and Fifty Fifty Switch Out.’
Mio and Dunk Dog rode as if they were oblivious to each other, but in reality, each knew exactly where the other was in the skate park and what trick they had just pulled off.
The sirens were getting louder. Tim and Drew were growing more and more distressed and Bruno added his cries, triggering an answering wail from Liv. From past experiences at air shows and firework displays the Jacobs knew that trying to settle their boys would be impossible and it would be best to go home. They ushered their little ones towards their car, abandoning placards in their haste. Cara fastened a screaming Liv into her baby seat whilst Bryce’s dad revved the engine. This was no place for hysterical babies or children.
‘I’ll take care of this lot,’ yelled Mr Lark, waving the families on their way.
Reluctantly, the Jacobs and Tarrants took off.
Tong could see the panic in his auntie’s eyes. As a child she had heard many sirens, sirens warning of bombings and explosions. Sirens meant loss and death. They meant childhood regimentation, propaganda and communism. For Tong, sirens were different. He wondered if they’d finished installing the sirens back home, the Tsunami Early Warning System they’d been working on before he left. Tong’s uncle could not conceal his fear any longer and screeched for Tong to join them in their car. Auntie Kim-Ly already lay on the back seat, terrified.
Tong felt torn, but because he knew that today there would be no bombs and his auntie and uncle would be all right, he sidled up to Bryce, and signalled to his family to be on their way. Soon there was only one Freewheeler family left. Mr and Mrs Shinozaki skirted the perimeter of Wheels Skate Park, entered through the gate and joined their daughter’s friends.
‘Thanks,’ said Clem. ‘This will mean the world to Mio.’
Showing his respect for Clem’s wisdom, Mr Shinozaki bowed.
The policeman with the loudspeaker was relieved when flashing lights appeared in the distance and car after car approached. To the kids inside the skate park, it looked like over-kill, like shooting a mosquito with a machine gun. All this for one kid on a bike?!
Both Dunk Dog and Mio realised that time was running out. Each longed to out-perform the other but where one wanted to be ‘Top Dog’ the other wanted recognition for, and acceptance of, her sport. Plus, there was the small added matter of some dog tags…
Dunk Dog went for a four trick line. First he jumped at 90 degrees, pushing his tail into a ledge before sliding and popping out to ride straight into another kick flip. From that he shifted position. Now, his front foot was on the nose of the board and his back foot in the middle. Then he dropped in towards a pyramid, moving at a reasonable speed. He turned, popped up the board and flipped, landing back on the board and shifting his weight forward. And last but not least he headed for a low railing, popped up to land tail first, then nose down he went for a grind, riding off and out at the end of it.
‘Tailslide to Kickflip, to Nollie Flip and Feeble Grind!’ Bryce was struck by the poetry of it all, one
move flowing into the other. So this is what they mean by poetry-in-motion, he thought.
When he had finished, Dunk Dog stayed on his board and approached Mio with a step-pivot-step-pivot move over and over again till he stopped centimetres in front of her.
‘And Dunk Dog “Walks the Dog!”’ announced Bryce, to an eruption of cheers.
Mio did not flinch. Eyeballing Dunk Dog she said, ‘You’ve got something of mine and I want them back. Give me the dog tags.’
‘No.’
‘They belonged to William Lark. They’re mine.’
‘Mine now.’
He’d admitted it! As Mio peered at the tags, she could just make out the letters ‘L A R K’ engraved up the top.
‘No, they’re not!’ Mio’s face grew more resolute. ‘Tell you what? I’ll take your feeble grind and double it—grind for twice the distance. If I pull it off, I get the dog tags. Fail, and you keep them.’ Mio could see Dunk Dog thinking this through.
‘But they’re mine already.’ He scrunched up his face as he asked, ‘What else you got to lose?’
Mio put her hand into her coat pocket and pulled out…
‘A doll!’ Dunk Dog eyed the spherical doll with its red painted body, white eyes, but with only one pupil filled in.
‘You use it to make a wish and your wish will come true.’
Dunk Dog laughed as he took it from her. ‘Well, I wish that bike riders are never allowed in this park. More to the point, I wish that you are never allowed in this park.’
‘Me?’ asked Mio. ‘What have I done to you?’
Dunk Dog sneered as he said, ‘It’s not what you’ve done, it’s what you do. What you always do.’
‘So, what do I always do?’ repeated Mio.
Dunk Dog spat at her feet. ‘You dominate. At the drain pipe you always dominate.’ Then he turned his back and walked away.
Mio ran after him and grabbed his arm, saying, ‘I don’t get it.’
‘Your kind never do.’ Dunk Dog spat again. ‘Think about it. You dominate at the pipe. You dominate when you chase me through the park, when you chase me after the meeting. You always act like you’re trying to be Top Dog. You can’t help yourself, but I can. There can only be one Dog.’
Mio took a step back, saying, ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
‘How ’bout the petition, then? That was you.’
At the mention of the petition alarm bells went off in Mio’s head. ‘How do you know I put together the petition?’
At this, Dunk Dog realised he’d said far too much and chose not to answer.
Mio’s mind was racing, flicking through possibilities. Was he friends with someone from school? If so, who? And why would they be in with Dunk Dog? And then she thought of something and asked, ‘Know anything about hate emails?’
Caught off-guard Dunk Dog shook his head and said, ‘Wasn’t me.’
Another admission.
‘Who then?’
‘Not telling.’
From the stone-like expression on his face, Mio knew she wasn’t going to get any more out of Dunk Dog this way. It wasn’t words that would lure him, it was action. She pulled out her mobile phone and held it out saying, ‘Add this to my offer.’
Dunk Dog made no effort to take the phone.
‘Fair bet,’ said Mio.
Dunk Dog glanced around the park before pointing to some steep stairs with a handrail down the centre. ‘Only if you grind down them.’
Mio sized up the railing. Not only was it longer than the feeble grind Dunk Dog had to do, it was also a lot steeper. Fall from that and they could scatter her ashes under the cherry blossom tree at home. Without hesitation, though, Mio said, ‘Yes.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
By now, there were police cars everywhere, their sirens singing up a storm. Skaters, bladers and scooter riders mingled with council officials in a restless throng. No-one knew what was happening. Kids were asking other kids, ‘What’s going on?’, their voices rising with panic.
Mr Lark stumbled to the microphone and blurted out, ‘Keep calm. Everybody keep calm.’ He’d seen how easy it was for a crowd to lose control during the war and how ugly the end result could be. He’d seen women and children trampled to death, caught between North Vietnamese and South Vietnamese troops during the fall of Saigon.
Mio felt gutted as she watched the chaos. What had meant to be a peaceful protest had turned into a shambles. She watched her father usher her mother to safety inside the staff office and breathed a sigh of relief. She could hear Mr Lark calling for calm and could see the Freewheelers making their way towards her.
The policeman with the loudspeaker called out, ‘Nobody move!’ Everyone ignored him. They were jostling each other to see what was happening. ‘One more move and we close down this park.’ The Freewheelers stopped in their tracks. That was the last thing they wanted. Most of the other kids froze, too. To close the park would be a disaster.
Mio felt torn. Comply now and she’d lose her bet. Ignore the order and she’d be in huge trouble. She could see Dunk Dog grinning at her quandary.
‘Woof,’ he said, ending her dilemma.
The thought of not being able to return the dog tags to Mr Lark was too much to bear. Besides, the greatest gains took the most extreme measures. Like a sprinter from a starting block Mio took off, pedalling in the direction of the stairs.
‘Stop!’ ordered the policeman.
Mio pedalled faster, her eyes glued to the stairway twenty metres away.
‘Stop that girl!’ yelled Dunk Dog.
Skateboarders stepped in her path but Mio weaved around them. She rode over speed humps and bunnyhopped over skateboards flung in her direction. She carved and pumped, hopping up kerbs, grinding along ledges, even sailing over a gap between two box jumps.
Kids twisted and flung themselves out of her way. Only precision riding prevented them from being hurt.
Some of the police entered the enclosure, joining the chase.
‘Catch her,’ yelled Dunk Dog.
A boy with a black hoodie lunged for her, but Darcy leapt to stop him at the same time and they collided in mid-air. The thump and grunts sounded like two sea lions at war, then there was the glmmp as they hit the ground and scuff-ff-ff-ff as they slid along the concrete.
‘Darcy!’ yelled Clem, bolting to her brother’s side.
Mio prayed that they weren’t seriously hurt. How she wished for this to stop. But one look at Mr Lark standing at the microphone and she knew she could not.
Mio approached the rail. She rose for the bunnyhop to position her peg. Dunk Dog lunged and grabbed for the handlebars. He caught them, then lost his grip, sending Mio into a spin. As she lost height she gained speed and came slamming down.
She was grinding the railing backwards!
The crowd rushed to the stairs and watched in horror.
Do a fakie, do a fakie, prayed Clem as she sped to join them.
But Mio had not landed and ridden backwards as Clem had wished. Her body, too light for Bryce’s heavy bike frame, plus momentum, had let her down. Instead of coming to the end of the railing and hopping off, she’d rolled to the side.
Bryce’s bike skidded across the concrete, sounding like a jumbo jet doing a belly landing, before it came to a halt near a half-pipe.
Luckily Mio was wearing Bryce’s helmet, but because she hadn’t planned to ride she didn’t have on any other protective gear. She lay on the ground, her arms and legs bent around her, flung in every direction like a catherine wheel.
Dunk Dog blanched. He knew he was the reason she’d stacked it. If he hadn’t made the bet and grabbed the handlebars, this would never have happened. Bolting over, he was the first to reach her. He gaped in horror at her still body.
Everywhere went quiet. No police on loudspeakers, no Mr Lark on the microphone, no kids calling out. Even the police sirens had stopped. It was as still as death.
Dunk Dog dropped to his knees to steady himself.
Then the
police radioed for an ambulance.
The Freewheelers started running. Bryce jumped down the whole flight of stairs, lucky to land in one piece himself. Darcy and Clem took the stairs three at a time, and Tong jumped from the top of a ledge. They knelt beside Mio, numb with shock.
Everyone was lost for words. Especially Dunk Dog.
A scream went up from the office block as Mrs Shinozaki saw her daughter crumpled on the ground. She staggered towards her, clutching her chest. Behind her came Mio’s father, ramrod straight and silent.
Brimming with remorse, and in recognition of a truly worthy opponent, Dunk Dog reached up and unclasped the dog tags from around his neck. But just as he was about to place them on Mio’s chest a hand shot out and snatched them.
‘You stole them.’
It was Mio. She was alive!
Dunk Dog jerked backwards. ‘Did not.’
Mio lifted her head, delighted that her efforts to fake her death had outwitted Dunk Dog. ‘Did too.’
‘They were given to me,’ said Dunk Dog, sidling sidewards.
Stunned by her miraculous recovery, he watched as Mio pushed herself onto her elbows and asked, ‘By who?’
‘My brother.’
‘And who’s your brother?’ Mio swayed as she sat up.
‘Leks.’
Leks! That explained it. The petition, the stolen dog tags, the emails. Everything. Suddenly, every nerve fibre was firing and Mio staggered to her feet. Cradling the dog tags, she limped towards Mr Lark, who’d been clutching the microphone so hard it was welded to his grip.
Darcy grabbed one arm and Clem and Tong grabbed the other as they helped her along. Pain shot through Mio’s left knee and hip as if an electric jolt was going through it. Darcy supported her weight as best he could, aware that she flinched with every movement. Bryce grabbed a placard for her to lean on like a crutch. It was the one her father had brought.
A hundred pairs of eyes watched her every move, but none so intensely as Mio’s mother and father.
Mio stumbled up to Mr Lark and stopped, her hand outstretched. Gently she took Mr Lark’s gnarled hand and turned it over, laying the dog tags in his palm, then folding his stumpy fingers on top of them she whispered, ‘For you.’
