Jaring and JOLTing
L T
B WAS HALF AWAKE. HIS MIND WAS SPITTING OUT SOFT
in the wind, no cars, no bikes, no screaming children. Silent and serene
until the new phone rang. It was a high-spread phone. That's what it was
called. The only bill was the initial installment fee. LB's dad invented it.
The sound of the ring was revolting, at least to LB. It was zing ring zing.
LB stayed in bed and assumed the house servant would answer it. He was
right. Five seconds later, Butler Sandie knocked softly.
"LB," Sandy called. His voice was soft. He was an English servant and
had been with LB's family since LB was just a child.
"Yes, come in." Sandie entered. "What is it?"
"Your father phoned and asked that you meet him at the Arco Plaza
at a quarter to 12." Sandie, with his snoot up high, nostrils relaxed,
turned and closed the door. LB zoned on the bald spot on the back side
of Sandie's head. LB was dressed quickly. He normally wore skate-
board fashions although his father deplored it. Out the door, down the
steps, and into the street. His skateboard rattled beneath his feet. The
trucks were brand new, the board as well. The wheels were not what
was causing the rattling sound. Loose bolts were making all the noise,
except for when LB used his fist to slug a wisecrack. Arnold, the handy-
man at the house, was under LB's father's orders to not repair, set up,
alter, or encourage this skateboard business.
From their house LB skateboarded east on Wilshire Blvd. Every
now and then since the bolts were loose he'd hit a crack, causing the
trucks to shift. This made LB lose his balance and fall. LB liked
falling. It made him feel closer to the earth's center. Up ahead, LB saw
skateboarders hitting one spot. He picked up his board and walked
over to watch. The skaters were good. They were doing kickflip
bluntslides. LB watched in awe. After 30 minutes of watching, he set
his board down and tried to skate off. But his trucks shifted and he
fell. He picked up his board and tried to take off unnoticed, but it was
too late. One of the skaters taking a break spotted LB.
"Why your trucks ain't bolted down?"
LB paused like a deer in the forest. The way the skateboarder spoke was
almost a foreign language. LB walked fast. The skateboarder, upset over
not getting a reply, jumped up and followed LB. LB, once aware that he
was being pursued, stopped. His right foot was pointed parallel, his back
foot slightly horizontal. His chin was up. If you could read faces, LB's said
"yes" in the most royal and pompous way.
The skateboarder's voice was angry. "Didn't I ask you sumptin"?"
LB's eyes and voice expressed to the skateboarder that he was differ-
ent, from a different class.
"I'm sorry. I was unable to make out what you were saying."
"Your trucks." The skateboarder touched LB's board. "Why are your
bolts loose?"
LB, now able to understand, looked off into the distance and, a
tad bit ashamed, said quietly, "I don't tighten things."
Now a few other skateboarders came over to see what
was up.
"Yo, Black, you got your tools on you?"
Black, a tall skinny white kid, hollered back, "They in
the car."
"I'm gonna tighten them for you."
LB kept his nose up. If only he could step outside himself, he
would see that now he was just the same as Butler Sandy. LB
watched the skateboarder tighten up his bolts. Afterward the two
shook hands.
"My name is LB. What's yours?"
The skateboarder was frightened. "Nice ta meet ya'll. I'm Roy the real
McCoy Washington Heights. Try it now," Roy said while setting LB's
board to the floor.
LB jumped on the board and rode around.
"Can yous ollie? Do you got pop?"
LB, dumbfounded, looked blankly at Roy, not knowing what pop was.
Roy got on the board and snapped a clean four-foot ollie standing still.
"That's an ollie," Roy said, his voice rough and scratchy. "Use your legs
and your gut swoop down pop, sucker."
LB heard this street critter talking on about how to do an ollie. LB
thought to himself, "These are strange people. A different species." LB
tried to ollie four times, failing at catching air every time.
"It takes timing," Roy said. "See. Pop." Roy did another ollie. "Once you
pop, then you roll and pop and float."
LB asked to try Roy's board. Once on Roy's board, LB could ollie. At
first not too high but then high.
"Holy fucking hell. Get the fuck out of here! How'd you do that?" Roy
couldn't believe it. "How'd you learn that fast? Hey, check this kid out,"
Roy called to Black. "Yo, Black and Joe! Joe, quick, stop to come see this
sucker. Swear to God he couldn't ollie five minutes ago. Now watch him."
Roy handed LB his own board back. LB tried to ollie and failed.
"Ah, I swear he just ollied. Do it again," Roy demanded.
LB tried. He looked hopeless. Roy's friends tried to go back to skating.
but a cop on a mountain bike came swashbuckling up to tell them the spot
was off-limits. "And I don't wanna tell you again."
Roy and Black and Joe went one way and LB the other. LB pushed along
heading to meet his dad. Now he was riding very smooth with no sudden
jolts from the trucks shifting. This made the ride less fun. LB wondered
where he might find a mechanic to switch his board back. There was a
Chevron with no garage, only sodas and snacks. Luckily LB found a 76
station. When he told the mechanic to loosen his bolts, the mechanic said,
"This ain't no skateboard shop. What's your problem?"
"Nothing," LB said. "How does 20 bucks to loosen some trucks sound?"
"Sure, that sounds fine."
A ratchet clacked away and soon LB was off again headed to the Plaza
de Arco, falling every so often. -Mark Gonzales
ROOM FOR PLAY BEETWEN BOARD AND BAZE PLATE
DIE
A
GRAM BUSHINGS AND
HANGERS.
COOLGEAPSTORY ABOOT LOVE
YOUR
MIND
To ME
is A
STRANGE
FIXTURE
EXSUBURANT
TIMES
LAUGHFTER
STON
BR.P
A10
YOUR
ASKE
THAT KEEP
THIS
FROM YOU
L. B
BUTLER SANDIE
DOP
FEB
A
FEB
1
1862
MS.
D
Gavid Duke Esgr
Est Park Brechin
Scotland.