Locker 13 (8 page)

It makes all the car drivers totally crazy! You can always hear tires squealing, horns honking, drivers screaming as kids come skating right at them.

Yes. It's really dangerous. Most kids won't even
think
of trying it. But for a guy with my kind of good luck, what's the big deal?

It was a sunny, cold Sunday afternoon. Frost stuck to the tops of the cars. My breath smoked up in front of me as I skated to the top of Killer Hill.

I met Darnell up there. He was having trouble with the brake on one of his skates. Finally he just ripped the brake off and tossed it in a trash can. “Why do I need brakes?” he said, grinning at me. “They only slow you down.”

Stretch and some of his pals appeared a few minutes later. Stretch was wearing some kind of yellow sweats. He looked like Big Bird on skates!

He lowered his shoulder and tried to bump me off my feet. But I skated away easily. And he didn't try again.

Things have been a little different between Stretch and me since I took his place on the basketball team. He's
my
backup now. He gets to play only when I'm tired and need a short rest. And I think he's in shock over it.

Stretch still tries to give me a hard time. But I don't think his heart is in it. He knows he's a loser. He knows he's not one of the lucky people—like me.

“You ready to skate?” Darnell called. He pulled on his helmet. Then he stood in the middle of the street, leaning forward, hands on his knees.

I gazed down the steep hill to the traffic below. Even though it was Sunday afternoon, cars and vans sped along Miller as if it were the afternoon rush hour.

I adjusted my knee pads. “Ready,” I said. I moved beside Darnell.

Stretch skated in front of us. He grinned at me. “How about a race?”

I shook my head. “You're too slow. Darnell and I don't want to have to wait for you down there.”

“Ha ha. When did you get so funny, Champ?” Stretch reached into the pocket of his yellow sweats. He held up a ten-dollar bill. “Let's make it a real race. Ten bucks each. Winner takes all.”

He stuck the money in front of my face. I shoved it away. “I don't take candy from babies,” I said. “Keep your money.”

Stretch gritted his teeth. His pale face turned an angry red. He leaned close. “You gonna race me or not?” he growled.

I squeezed the rubber skull in my pocket. I knew there was no way I could lose. “Okay,” I said. “But I'm going to make it fair.”

I pulled a wool scarf from my coat pocket and started to wrap it around my head. “Just to give you a chance, I'll skate blindfolded.”

Stretch snickered. “You're joking, right? You're going to skate through all those cars blindfolded?”

“Don't do it, Luke!” a voice called.

I turned to see Hannah waving to me. She was hobbling up the sidewalk on crutches. Her right foot had a large, white bandage over it. “Don't do it!” she called shrilly.

I spun away from the guys and skated over to her.

“Hannah—what happened?” I asked, motioning to the crutches.

She sighed and leaned heavily on them. “It's my ankle,” she said. “Remember when I fell off my bike? We thought it was just a sprain. But my ankle keeps swelling up like a water balloon. I had to have it drained three times.”

“Yuck,” I said, staring down at the bandage.

The wind fluttered her red hair. She shook her head sadly. “The doctors can't figure out what's wrong. I—I might need surgery. I don't know. And Mom says if it doesn't get better, I can't go on the junior high overnight on Wednesday.”

“Wow. That's bad news,” I murmured. Everyone looks forward to the overnight. The whole junior high goes to a campground by the lake, and everyone stays up and parties all night.

I couldn't take my eyes off Hannah's bandaged ankle. Is this my fault? I suddenly wondered. Did I really take away her good luck? Hannah has had nothing but bad luck ever since I found the skull….

I'm going to give it back to her, I silently promised. Real soon. Real soon.

“You skating or not?” Stretch called. “Or are you just going to stand there and talk with your girlfriend?”

“I'm coming,” I said. I started to wrap the scarf around my eyes.

“Luke, don't,” Hannah insisted. “Don't do it blindfolded. It—it's crazy.”

“No problem,” I said. “I'm a superhero, Hannah. Cars will bounce right off me!”

I skated away from her.

“You're wrong!” she called. “Luke, listen to me. The good luck—it doesn't last forever!”

I laughed. What was she
talking
about?

I skated up beside Darnell and grabbed his arm to steady myself. I pulled the scarf over my eyes until I saw only black.

“You're crazy,” he muttered. “You could get killed, man.”

“No way,” I declared. “I'm going to win twenty bucks from you two!”

I heard Stretch skate up beside me. “You're doing this for real?” he asked. “You're going to skate into all those cars blindfolded?”

“You going to talk or skate?” I asked him. “First one past Miller Street
without stopping
wins the money.”

“Luke—don't be crazy!” Hannah called.

It was the last thing I heard before the three of us took off.

I leaned forward, skating straight and hard. I heard Stretch and Darnell beside me, their Rollerblades scraping the pavement.

As we picked up speed, I could hear the traffic on Miller. I heard a horn honk. Heard someone shout.

I skated down … down … laughing through the darkness.

 

“Luke—loooook out!”

I heard Darnell's scream. I heard the squeal of tires. Horns honked.

I tossed back my head and laughed. I roared through Miller Street, the blade wheels whistling over the pavement.

Then, as I turned my skates and came to a slow stop, I ripped the scarf away. And saw Darnell standing on the curb on the other side of Miller. His mouth was open. He shook his head.

Stretch came skating around me. “You crazy jerk!” he shouted. “You were almost killed
three
times!”

I calmly held out my hand. “Money, please.”

“You lucky jerk,” Stretch muttered. He slapped the ten-dollar bill into my gloved hand. “You're crazy. Really. You're just plain crazy.”

I laughed. “Thanks for the compliment! And the ten bucks!”

Grumbling to himself, Stretch skated back up to his friends.

Darnell waited for the traffic to clear, then skated over to me. He wiped sweat off his forehead. “You were almost killed,” he said, his voice shaking. “Why did you do it, Luke?”

I grinned at him. “Because I can.”

The weather turned warm for our overnight camp-out. Even though the trees were bare, the woods smelled fresh and sweet, almost like spring. High, white clouds dotted the bright blue afternoon sky. Twigs and dead leaves crackled and crunched under our feet as we hiked through the tall trees to the camping grounds.

I squeezed the small skull in one hand as I walked, weighted down by the heavy pack on my back. Some kids were singing a Beatles song. Behind me, a group of girls were telling really bad knock-knock jokes, laughing shrilly after each one.

Coach Bendix and Ms. Raymond, another gym teacher, led the way along the twisting path through the trees. I was about halfway back in the line of kids.

I turned and found Hannah beside me. She wore her blue windbreaker with the hood pulled up over her head. She was leaning on one crutch as she walked, struggling to keep up. “Do you have any water?” she asked.

I slowed down. “Your parents let you come? Is your ankle better?”

“Not really,” she replied, frowning. “But I told them I had to come anyway. I wouldn't miss it. Do you have any water? I'm dying!”

“Yeah. Sure.” I reached for the bottle of water in my pack. “Didn't you bring any?”

Hannah sighed. “My water bottle had a leak or something. It poured out and soaked all the extra clothes in my pack. Now I don't have a thing to wear.”

I handed her the water bottle.

Leaning on the crutch, she pushed back the windbreaker hood, and I saw her face for the first time.

Her skin was covered with big, red splotches.

“Hannah, what's that?” I cried. “Your face—”

“Don't look at me!” she snapped. She turned her back and took a long gulp of water.

“But what is it?” I demanded. “Poison ivy?”

“No. I don't think so,” she said, still facing away from me. “I woke up with it. Some kind of red rash. All over my body.” She sighed. “I don't get a break.”

She handed the water bottle back to me and pulled the blue plastic hood over her head. “Thanks for the water.”

“Does it itch?” I asked.

She let out an angry cry. “I really don't want to talk about it!” She grabbed the crutch tightly, swung it hard in front of her, and hurried ahead of me, dragging her bandaged foot over the dirt path.

She's having so much bad luck. I guess it's my fault, I thought, squeezing the skull in my pocket.

But
why
are all these terrible things happening to her? Why isn't there enough good luck for
both
of us?

I didn't have much time to think about it.

Behind me, I heard shrill, frightened screams. I saw kids running off the path. Screaming. Calling for help.

I spun around and headed toward them, the heavy pack bouncing on my back. “What's going on?” I cried. “What's wrong?”

More shrill screams.

And then I saw the two enormous brown snakes. Swinging down from a low tree limb. Blocking the path.

The same color as the tree, they twisted their long bodies, thicker than garden hoses, and snapped their jaws.

I didn't hesitate. I dived forward, stretching out my arms.

“Luke—what are you doing? Stay away from them!” I heard Coach Bendix shout.

The kids' frightened screams rang through the woods.

“Get away from them!” Coach ordered.

But I knew nothing could hurt me. I knew my good luck would keep me safe.

I shot my hands out. And grabbed both snakes, one in each hand.

I wrapped my fingers around their thick bodies. Then, with a hard tug, I wrenched them off the tree limb. And raised them high.

“Whoa!”

I didn't realize how
long
they were.

And how strong.

I let out a startled cry as both snakes wriggled loose. I saw the tiny, black eyes flash. Saw the jaws open.

Then both snake heads came crashing toward me, jaws snapping—snapping so furiously beneath the flashing eyes, snapping like bear traps.

 

I felt a rush of air as they snapped—snapped—snapped their sharp-toothed jaws. Heads swinging wildly. Whole bodies swinging and shaking. Thick, white drool clinging to their pointed teeth.

Shrill screams rose all around me. I stared at the snapping heads, the glimmering, black eyes—until it seemed that the snakes were screaming, too.

And then—they flew from my hands.

Wriggled free with strong tosses of their heavy bodies. And plunged to the ground. Disappearing so quickly. Blending into the hard, brown dirt. Vanishing beneath the carpet of fat brown leaves, twigs, and fallen limbs.

As kids surrounded me, I stood hunched over, gasping for breath. I smoothed my open hands over my ears, my cheeks, my whole face.

I waited for the pain of the snakebites to spread over me.

But no. No sting. No throbbing. No pain.

They had snapped so close, I felt their breath on my skin.

But they hadn't bitten me.

“You're so lucky!” Coach Bendix was saying. He had a hand on my shoulder and was examining my face. “I never saw anyone so lucky. Why did you do it, Luke? Those snakes are deadly poisonous. Deadly! Why did you do it?”

I stared at him but didn't answer. I didn't know what to say.

How could I explain it to him? How could I explain to
anyone
what it felt like to be so incredibly, awesomely lucky?