Free Mamba Point by Kurtis Scaletta Page B

gesture with his finger.
    “I asked Bennett if he had skates in case you needed them,” Eileen explained. “He did but you didn’t, so I asked him if he wanted to come with us and he did.”
    “No problem,” I lied.
    We skated slowly back toward the embassy. Bennett, walking more than rolling, looked awkward but managed to stay on his feet. “I haven’t had much practice,” he said. “Especially not on the street.”
    At least I could outskate him, I realized gleefully. I chanced a one-eighty and skated backward a bit. I’d learned how at the skating rink back in Dayton. I managed to do it without killing myself.
    “Show off,” Eileen said, but I could tell she was at least a little impressed. So I did it a couple more times, rolling forward, then spinning backward and putting on the stops. I wished I knew more tricks, but that was all I had.
    “Where are we going, anyway?” she asked.
    “I don’t know.” I saw we were at the intersection of UN Drive and Fairground Road, where the library was. “Where does this street go? Is there really a fairground?”
    “Maybe, but it goes through downtown Mamba Point first. There’ll be lots of traffic.”
    “Sounds cool to me,” I said. I suddenly felt bold. I wanted to impress Eileen.
    “I don’t know,” said Bennett. “Seems kind of, uh, treacherous.”
    The old Linus wouldn’t have skated down that road in a million years, but I pushed off the stop and headed down Fairground Road. The road was choppy. I stayed near the curb, trying to roll slowly while Eileen and Bennett caught up. She stumbled, but Bennett rolled over and offered an arm. She grabbed at it, and they both nearly went sprawling out on the blacktop.
    “It’s not the best skating road,” she said.
    “It’s not that bad,” I argued. I halfway hoped they would want to turn back, but I wasn’t about to suggest it myself.We’d been going up a slight hill, and now hit the top of it. The other side was a lot steeper and a lot busier as the shacks and shanties gave way to shops and the side streets spilled out onto Fairground Road. A taxi beeped up a storm as it passed, either warning us to get out of the way or egging us on.
    “Want to race?” I asked Bennett.
    “I’m not sure I want to go down that hill.”
    “One, two, three, GO!” I said, kicking off the toe stop and letting myself fly downhill. I sidestepped litter and pedestrians and felt the wind of cars whooshing past me. So this is what being reckless was like, not being a ’fraidy-cat. It was scary but fun.
    There was a light at the bottom of the hill, and I had to roll against the curb to brake. Using the toe stop while speeding downhill would have sent me somersaulting into the street. I heard the wheels grind against the curb. Matt would be mad if he noticed the wheels were messed up. I had to grab the edge of a fruit stand so I didn’t fall.
    “You can’t skate, oh,” a woman said, laughing and gently slapping the back of my hand.
    “I can skate fine. I just can’t stop.”
    She howled with laughter and turned to a friend to repeat it. I looked back up the hill. Eileen and Bennett were barely visible, but they were waving and shouting at me. I started back up and realized there was no way I could skate up that hill. They’d already figured that out, which is probably why they were waving and shouting at me. They weren’t following me down.
    I’d have to take off the skates and hike up. I wondered if two layers of socks was enough to protect my feet from the hookworms, which supposedly were everywhere and would bore right up into the soles of your feet and lay a million eggs in your body if you weren’t careful. The doctor had warned us about them when we’d gone in for our shots. We weren’t supposed to ever go barefoot. Mom didn’t even want us wearing sandals without socks, so we had to settle for looking dumb.
    It’s the kind of thing the old Linus would worry about, but the old Linus was a lot more