Snowboard Showdown (6 page)

“Hey, quit that!” Dondi yelled.

“Done with my wax?” Freddie asked.

“Yeah, here you go.” Dondi tossed it back.

“Why don't you try what I just did?” Freddie challenged him.

“You mean that pathetic bunch of grabs? No
problem, squirt.” Dondi grabbed his board and headed up the hill to the top of the halfpipe.

Freddie stood there watching him. He was going to enjoy this.

“Here I go!” Dondi shouted and began his run. “Whoooaaa!” Immediately, he was wobbling, struggling to maintain his balance.
Freddie's enjoyment turned to alarm when Dondi came up the wall at top speed and hit the air. His arms windmilled as he lost
control of the jump. Moments later, he landed hard, crying out in pain as his knees buckled under him and he slid in a ball
down the halfpipe.

Freddie raced over to him. “Dondi, are you okay?” he cried.

“My knee! Ow, it hurts!” Dondi moaned, grabbing his leg.

“Here, let me get the board off you,” Freddie said, unbuckling the footstraps.

“Get away from me,” Dondi growled. “This is all your fault—you knew this was going to happen!” He got up and limped away,
testing his left knee gingerly.

“I didn't!” Freddie protested. But his voice faltered
slightly. It was true, what Dondi was accusing him of. And that made what Clarissa had said true, too. Freddie was so caught
up in competing with his brother that he was willing to pull immature tricks on him—even if it meant his brother might get
hurt.

What kind of person did that make him?

F
reddie, your father and I have been talking it over…”

Freddie sat up straight at the dinner table, his eyes widening in anticipation. This was it. This was the big moment.

“… and we've decided to get you your birthday present early.”

“Yes! All right!” Freddie stood up, clapping his hands and whooping with joy. “I get my new snowboard!”

“What?” Dondi bolted upright, his hands supporting him as he leaned over the table toward his parents. “What do you mean,
you're getting him a new snowboard? How come I had to buy my own?”

“Well, his birthday is coming up,” Aida Ruiz explained, “and we thought–”

“You thought wrong!” Dondi exploded. “That little spoiled brat doesn't have to work, like I do. He spends all his free time
getting me in trouble, and you buy him a new snowboard? Come on!”

“Donovan,” Esteban said, putting out a calming hand, “try to understand. Winter's already half over, and–”

“I don't want to hear any of this!” Dondi shouted, slamming the table with his fist. “I work hard for my money, and you guys
don't give me anything!”

“He's only twelve,” Esteban pointed out.

“Thirteen in March,” Freddie added.

“Shut up, squirt!” Dondi lashed out at him. “You guys wouldn't be so nice to your little angel if you knew what a brat he
was.”

“What are you talking about?” Freddie asked, his voice rising. “If they want to get me an early birthday present–”

“Be quiet, I said,” Dondi ordered him. “Mami, Papi, he nearly got me killed today, did you know that? Ask your precious Freddie
about the wax he made me use.”

“I did not make you use it—you took it out of my hand!” Freddie protested.

“You took it out to tempt me!” Dondi insisted. “You knew I'd grab it. And you knew that with my new board, it would be too
slick and make me fall. But you let me go right ahead. You didn't say anything.”

Freddie was silent for a moment as he searched for the right response. Dondi jumped right into the void.

“You see, he can't even deny it!” he said, pointing an accusing finger. “He made me twist my knee! Look how bad it is!” He
limped away from the table, wincing with each step on the injured knee.

“He's faking it!” Freddie said, his voice squeaking in his frustration.

“Oh yeah, smart guy?” Dondi said, a smile of victory coming over his face. “Then how do you explain this?” He rolled up the
leg of his sweatpants to show a knee that was somewhat swollen and even a little black and blue. “So I'm faking it, huh?”
He turned to his parents. “Go ahead, then, get your little angel his new snowboard. Reward him by giving him an early birthday
present. What do I care? You all hate me anyway!”

With that, he threw down his napkin and stormed out of the kitchen.

“Freddie, is what Dondi says true?” his mom asked, a look of pain on her face. “Did you know the wax would make him fall?”

“Freddie, tell us the truth,” his dad said softly, giving him the look that always made Freddie want to disappear into the
floor.

“I didn't do it, Papi,” Freddie said, pleading for understanding. “Dondi just took it out of my hand. You know how he is!”

Well, technically, it was the truth. Dondi had taken the wax right out of Freddie's hand. But it was also true that Freddie
had held it out to him, had known what might happen; that he'd relished the thought of Dondi losing control of his board.
And now, deep inside, he knew he was lying to his parents.

But what else was he supposed to do? If he admitted having those thoughts, they wouldn't get him his new snowboard—and Freddie
had to have it in time for the big contest!

“All right, then,” his mother said quietly. “If you say so, I'll believe you. You've always been an honest boy, Freddie, so
we're going to trust you this time.”

“Thank you, Mami,” Freddie whispered, looking down at the floor. “May I be excused? I'm kind of tired, and I want to get my
homework done.”

“Of course,” his mother said. Freddie left the room quickly, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. He didn't really
have that much homework, and he wasn't that tired. But he couldn't stand the look his father was still giving him—the look
that said, I know you, Freddie Ruiz. And you're lying.

Freddie went upstairs, hoping that would be the end of it. Tomorrow maybe he'd have his new snowboard, and Saturday he'd use
it to win the contest. And after that, he promised himself, after that he would make a real effort to be nicer to Dondi, no
matter how bad Dondi was to him.

Late that night, after he'd turned out the light and was lying in bed, Freddie heard the door to his room open. His father
stood in the doorway, hidden by the darkness. But even in the dark, Freddie could still feel his dad's eyes seeing right through
him.

“Freddie,” Esteban whispered. “Are you awake?”

“Mmm?” Freddie replied, feigning sleepiness.

Esteban came and stood over the bed. “I want to know something, son,” he said. “I heard what you said before, and I always
want to believe you. But I saw Dondi's knee, and his anger. And so I want to know this: In your heart, did you know Dondi
wouldn't be able to control his board with that slick wax you let him have?”

Freddie was silent. He held his breath, listening to his heart pound. He wondered if his dad could hear it, it was so loud.

Esteban sighed deeply, sadly. “You know,” he said, “all I really want in life is for my two sons to get along; to love each
other like brothers should. When I was young, my brothers and I, we would have done anything for each other, we loved each
other so much. I don't know what I've done wrong with you and Dondi, but it must have been very bad.”

Freddie felt lower than a worm. Then his father sat down on the bed beside him and put a tender hand on Freddie's shoulder.

“Promise me something, Freddie,” Esteban said. “Promise me that, no matter what's happened up to now, you'll always be a good,
true brother to Dondi
from now on. He may have his problems, but he's still your brother, and you've got to stick by him.”

“But he hates me,” Freddie managed to squeak past the lump in his throat.

“No,” Esteban replied. “He may get angry with you, but underneath, he loves you, Freddie. He's the only brother you've got.
So promise me—promise me you'll be a friend to him from now on, and a true brother. Promise?”

Freddie nodded. “I promise,” he whispered. His father patted his head and then left the room. Freddie lay there, alone in
the darkness, wishing he'd never let Dondi have that wax. More than that—he wished they'd never had a fight in their whole
lives. He wished he could take back every mean thing he'd ever said to Dondi.

The feeling lasted until the following day at lunch period, when Freddie caught sight of Dondi walking with Clarissa in the
lunchroom. The two of them were ahead of Freddie, who was walking with Steve and Eric. Dondi had his arm around Clarissa's
shoulder. But what really made Freddie burn was the fact that Dondi wasn't limping—not one little bit!

Dondi was saying something to Clarissa, gesturing with his free hand to indicate a slip and fall. Freddie guessed immediately
that was telling her about the day before and how Freddie had set him up.

Sure enough, at that very moment Clarissa turned and saw Freddie. She gave him a look of disgust, then turned away again.

Freddie could stand it no longer. “Man, I hate that Dondi!” he said to his friends. “I am going to beat him so bad on Saturday.”

“What'd he do now?” Eric asked. Then he turned and saw Dondi sitting down at a table with Clarissa. “Oh. I see,” he said.
“Hmmm.”

“Don't worry about it, Freddie,” Steve consoled him. “Too bad Clarissa didn't see him fall. Man, that was such a good trick,
what you did with that wax.”

Freddie winced, his father's words crowding his brain. “Yeah, well, Saturday I'm going to beat him fair and square. That's
gonna be the day.”

Steve grinned. “With your new board, you're a lock to win!”

He slapped Freddie on the back, and Freddie nodded, trying to look confident. The only trouble was, he couldn't stop thinking
about the look
Clarissa had just given him. Even if he did win, it might be just one more example of how he competed with Dondi, and it would
prove to her once and for all that he was as immature as she thought he was!

F
reddie didn't cheer up until that evening when his mother came through the door with a long, thin, gift-wrapped package. “Happy
early birthday!” she said.

Esteban added his congratulations. “Use it in good health,” he said. But his eyes said, Remember your promise.

Freddie took the package and tore off the wrapping. “Awesome!” he gasped. The shiny new board was black with red dragon designs.
He held it up to admire it. It was even cooler looking than Dondi's—smaller, but sleeker. “Mami, Papi, thank you so much!”
Freddie exclaimed. “You're the best!”

Dondi must have heard him and figured out what was going on by the joyous tone of his voice, because
he now threw open the kitchen door and started yelling at the top of his lungs. “I can't believe you got it for him!” he howled.
“After you saw what he did to my knee!”

“Dondi, calm down,” Aida said. “We just felt that since winter is half over already–”

“That is so lame!” Dondi protested. “You have to pay for
my
board now! Otherwise it's unfair!”

“Donovan,” Esteban said, “please don't spoil Freddie's happiness. This is his one and only birthday present from us. Let him
enjoy it.”

“Yeah, right,” Dondi said. “Happy unbirthday, squirt. Enjoy your new board—not!” He left the kitchen, then came back, grabbed
a big bag of potato chips, and left again.

Freddie's parents looked at each other and sighed mournfully. “I'm so sorry about Dondi, Freddie,” his mom said. “He'll calm
down about it after a while. I just wish he didn't have to rain on your parade.”

Freddie was silent, but inside, he felt anything but sorry. Any concerns he'd felt over the contest were wiped away by Dondi's
behavior. And now, thanks to
his fabulous new board, the contest would be a fair one, and Freddie knew that in any fair snowboarding contest, he would
win.

He stroked the edges of his new board lovingly, smiling with satisfaction. He couldn't wait till Saturday.

The next afternoon, Freddie got to know his new board on the halfpipe. From the first moment, they were made for each other.
Stunts Freddie had had problems with before were now easy for him. The board felt both lighter and stronger than his old one
and glided much more smoothly.

Dondi, who had been so confident on his new board when Freddie was using his old one, now seemed more tentative. Obviously,
the possibility of losing was on Dondi's mind. After twenty minutes or so, he picked up his board and walked away without
a word.

Freddie watched him go and thought about following him. But he figured he'd find out where Dondi had gone later. Right now,
he was too busy having fun to care. If Dondi was going to give up a chance to practice, that was fine with Freddie.

But later that day, when Freddie asked Dondi where he'd been, Dondi was very secretive. “None of your business,” he said.
Freddie began to get suspicious, and even a little worried. Dondi surely had something up his sleeve.

On Thursday, Dondi went to work, and Freddie practiced with Steve. “You're gonna wipe the floor with him, Freddie,” Steve
assured him.

Freddie grinned. He had already improved more in two days on his new board than he had all winter on his old one. He was ready
for the competition.

So on Friday morning, when Dondi came up to him in the living room, Freddie was totally unprepared for his brother's announcement.

“I'm quitting the competition,” Dondi said.

Freddie was stunned. “What? What do you mean, you're quitting?”

“Yeah, I'm out. Forget it.” Dondi was looking him right in the eye, a little grin creasing the corner of his mouth.

“What are you talking about? I don't get it!” Freddie said.

“What part of 'out' don't you understand?” Dondi
asked. “You go ahead and compete. I don't need that kid stuff.”

“Oh, I get it,” Freddie said. “You're afraid I'm gonna beat you. That's it, isn't it?”

“No way, man,” Dondi said. “I just decided it's immature to keep competing with you.”

Freddie reddened, sure that Dondi had used the word
immature
on purpose to remind him of Clarissa. “Cop-out!” he said. “You're chicken, and you know it!”