Free sidewayz glory by Todd Strasser, Sammy Yuen Jr., CRAIG PHILLIPS Page A

care one way or another. “My car’s in the front,” she told Chris. “I’ll meet you there.”
    Chris and Driftclog walked back toward the pit. At the same time, Mariel, Tito, and Kennin headed for the parking garage.
    â€œDon’t take this the wrong way,
mi amigo,
but you’re running out of time,” Tito said to Kennin. “You gotta make up your mind about the team.”
    â€œThanks for the advice,” Kennin said. They got back to the parking garage. Tito went into the locker room, leaving Kennin and Mariel alone.
    â€œI really appreciate that ride today,” Kennin said.
    Mariel’s eyes darted left and right and Kennin could tell she had something on her mind. She took Kennin’s hand and placed his palm against her cheek. Her eyes burrowed deep into his. “I meant what I said before,” she said, slowly moving his hand down to her throat, and then lower. “About what a girl needs. Think about it.”
    A little after midnight Kennin caught the bus home. The city bus system was nicknamed the CAT, short for Citizens Area Transit. There usually weren’t many people riding after midnight, and Kennin had gotten to know the driver, a woman named Sheila.
    â€œHey, you got the cast off!” she said when he climbed on, using the cane.
    â€œYeah.” Kennin sat down in the first seat by the door.
    â€œHow’s it feel?”
    â€œWeak, but better without that heavy cast.”
    â€œWell, your timing’s good,” Sheila said.
    â€œHow’s that?” Kennin asked.
    â€œLooks like the CAT drivers are going on strike,” Sheila said. “We’ve been working without a contract for almost a year and the union’s had it.”
    The ride home could be pretty fast some nights, with Sheila passing empty bus stop after empty bus stop. Pretty soon they were near the Sierra Ne-Vue. Kennin got up.
    Sheila gave him a concerned look. “How’re you gonna get home from work at night if we go on strike?”
    â€œNot a clue,” Kennin answered.
    â€œWell, good luck,” Sheila said.
    Kennin got off and started to limp on the cane toward the Sierra Ne-Vue. His left leg felt weak and had begun to throb. He’d just passed the dead brown palm trees at the entrance to the trailer park when he spotted a black Escalade parked outside his trailer. The car had twenty-inch custom rims. The black windows were partway down to let out cigarette smoke. Kennin knew who was inside.
    He stopped in the dark, knowing he had two choices, and they both sucked: He could either not go home, which left him with no place else to go, or he could go home and face Jack and his goons. It had been a long day, and Kennin was tired. All he wanted to do was go to sleep. He limped toward the Escalade. When he got close, the passenger door opened and Jack the jackass got out.
    â€œWhere’s my sister?” Kennin asked.
    Jack stopped, obviously caught by surprise. Then he grinned. “Nice try, boy. Almost got me there.”
    â€œTell me where she is or I’m going to the police,” Kennin threatened.
    Jack narrowed his eyes. “You’re lying.”
    â€œI am frickin’ serious,” Kennin said. “First you got her with the loan sharking and stupid weekly vig. Then you got her on dope. The cops are gonna have a field day with you.”
    A guy the size of a sumo wrestler got out of the Escalade. Kennin had met him a few weeks ago when it hadbeen Jack’s turn to do the threatening. His nickname was Tiny and he had a shaved head and wore a thick silver chain with a medallion around his neck.
    â€œEverything okay?” Tiny asked.
    â€œYeah, get back in the car,” Jack barked, then turned to Kennin. “I wouldn’t go to the cops if I was you.”
    â€œGive me one good reason why not,” Kennin said.
    â€œBecause I don’t know where she is,” Jack said. “She’s not at the