Snowboard Showdown (8 page)

“Oh, so you're the mature one now,” Freddie said. “You don't compete. Not much. Tell me you didn't go after Clarissa just
because you guessed I liked her.”

“Me? Would I do a thing like that?” Dondi asked, batting his eyes innocently.

“You know you did,” Freddie said.

“Well, maybe I did and maybe I didn't,” Dondi said. “You'll never know, will you? But I'll tell you one thing—even if I broke
up with her tomorrow, she'd never go out with you. 'Cause she knows what you're really all about.”

“Get out of my room!” Freddie shouted. “Papi, Mami, he's in my room! Get him out of here before I kill him!”

“I'm going, I'm going,” Dondi said. “Don't be such a sore loser, squirt. She just likes me better than you, that's all.”

Before Freddie could say anything, Dondi was out the door. Freddie pulled the blankets over his head and fought back the tears.
He was going to get even with Dondi, one way or another. No way was he about to let his brother get off so easily.

In fact, Freddie knew exactly what he was going to do next. He was going to take up downhill boarding. If the past was any
indication, before long he'd be better than Dondi at it. And this time, Dondi wouldn't be able to run away from the competition.

O
n Sunday night it snowed. Boy, did it snow—eight powdery inches by Monday morning, when the sun finally came back out. “Yes!”
Freddie said, looking out the window. A radio announcement confirmed that school had been canceled for the day. “I've got
to go outside and do some street boarding!”

“Out of my way, dork!” Dondi said, racing past him to the coat closet. The boys jostled each other, reaching for their coats,
gloves, hats, scarves, and ski boots. But the jostling was good-natured for once—the sight of all that fresh snow had banished
all bad thoughts from their heads. Then it was a headlong sprint for the garage to grab their boards.

“We'll be able to shove off right out the garage door!” Dondi said gleefully. The Ruizes' driveway ran downhill, and their
street dropped off to the
right. There would be no cars out on the back streets for at least a few precious hours because the plows would be busy cleaning
up the main roads.

“I'm going to run by Steve's house,” Freddie said. Steve lived just around the corner.

“Okay, I'll follow you,” Dondi said, lifting the garage door and strapping on his board.

Freddie whooshed out of the garage into the powdery snow. He and Dondi had the street totally to themselves. There was not
a track or a footprint anywhere. “Whooooo!” Freddie shouted as powder flew everywhere. The wind stung his face, and the sun
shone brightly off the snow. Behind him, he could hear Dondi yelling happily at the top of his lungs.

Freddie skidded to a stop in front of Steve's house, sending a sky-high shower of snow into the air. Steve must have seen
him because he threw open the front door and called, “I'll be right there!”

A few minutes later, the three were boarding all over the streets of Crestview. They struggled to climb up the hills but it
was well worth it coming back down.

The three boys stopped by a railing at the entrance to Ridge Park.

“Hey. Let's board the park!” Steve said, looking through the bars of the railing.

“Yeah,” Dondi said, “we could go down the embankment.” He pushed off through the open gate with Steve right behind him.

Freddie followed them into the park, amazed at what a good snowfall could do. It was as if the whole slate between him and
Dondi had suddenly been wiped clean, as if their problems had been covered over with a fresh layer of pure, white, unspoiled
snow.

All their fights were forgotten, all their grudges forgiven. They were friends again, and brothers too. Even Dondi and Steve
were getting along!

Freddie should have known it was too good to last. At that very moment, he heard a familiar pair of voices calling, “Dondi!
Yo, man, over here!”

Nate Sherman and Brad Forest came zooming up to the three boys. “Hey, Dondi,” Nate said. “Fancy meeting you here.” He looked
at Freddie and Steve. “I see you brought the junior brigade.”

“You babysitting today?” Brad asked him.

Dondi looked embarrassed. “I was just leading Hansel and Gretel here into the heart of the woods,” he joked.

Nate and Brad laughed. “Watch out they don't have any bread crumbs to find their way home,” Brad said.

Freddie stood there, taking it all in. He glanced at Steve, who seemed equally at a loss for words.

“This beats halfpipe any day,” Dondi said. “I told the squirt it was better, but he didn't believe me. Did you?”

Freddie's eyes narrowed as he stared back at Dondi. “You're a total chicken, Dondi. You quit that contest because you knew
I could beat you. Downhill had nothing to do with it.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dondi said, strutting for his eighth-grade friends. “You want to see who's chicken?”

“Anytime!” Freddie shot back.

“Freddie,” Steve said, a note of caution in his voice.

Freddie ignored him. “You want a downhill race, you've got it, punk!”

“Oh, I'm a punk? Well, you're a squirt. King of the halfpint, oh, I mean pipe.” Dondi shared a mean-spirited laugh with Nate
and Brad. “Okay, shorty. We'll see who's a punk. You and me, one on one—down Devil's Ravine!”

Freddie gasped. “Devil's Ravine? Are you out of your gourd?”

“Wooo-hooo!” Nate cheered. “All right! The little guy's scared now!”

“Busted! In your face, shorty!” Brad said, piling it on.

“Who's a chicken now, punk?” Dondi said, his face only inches from Freddie's.

Freddie stared back at Dondi. Why was Dondi doing this crazy thing? Just to impress those two gorillas? “Dondi…” he said falteringly.

“Come on, come on. Are you in or out?” Dondi demanded.

Freddie was silent, searching Dondi's eyes. Dondi wasn't as good a boarder as Freddie, and both of them knew it. If they went
through with this dare, Dondi might end up in the hospital—or even worse!

He saw fear in Dondi's eyes then. Dondi didn't want to do this any more than he did. But then why had he even brought it up?

Suddenly Freddie understood. Dondi had set a clever trap for him. He had dared him to board down Devil's Ravine, sure that
Freddie would say
no. When he did, Dondi would be off the hook—he'd never have to brave the dangerous slope, and Freddie would look like the
one who was chicken.

“Dondi,” Freddie said in a voice that was almost a whisper, “it's stupid to do something so dangerous. Neither of us is a
good-enough downhill boarder yet.”

“Keep those excuses coming,” Dondi said. He gave Nate and Brad a triumphant smile. “Now we know who's afraid and who's not.”

“I'm not afraid!” Freddie insisted.

“'I'm not afraid!'” Dondi mimicked him in a frightened voice.

“Say what you want, I'm not doing it.” Freddie stood firm. “I promised Papi.”

“Baby promised his papi!” Dondi said in a baby voice. Nate and Brad howled with laughter, slapping Dondi on the back.

“Come on, Freddie,” Steve said. “Let's get out of here. We don't need to be around these losers.”

Freddie nodded and followed Steve as he pushed off. The taunts followed them.

“You did the right thing,” Steve told him when they next stopped for a rest. “It's not worth anyone getting hurt over.”

“I hate that Dondi,” Freddie replied, swallowing hard.

“Never mind him,” Steve advised. “Like you said, he's a punk. My dad always says if you want to know what somebody's like,
take a look at who their friends are.” He grinned at Freddie and winked.

Freddie laughed at the thought of it. He had great friends—Steve, Eric, and lots of others. Dondi was stuck with Nate Sherman
and Brad Forest. What good were they?

He felt sorry for Dondi, suddenly. It was kind of pathetic, the way he'd put out that dare just to impress those two jerks.

“Yeah, I guess I did do the right thing,” Freddie said, shaking his head with a smile of satisfaction.

When he heard about it the next day, Eric agreed wholeheartedly. “Going down Devil's Ravine would have been a big mistake,”
he said in the cafeteria. “Being seriously injured is no fun. Take it from one who knows, okay?”

Freddie could only imagine what Eric went through every day of his life, ever since that day the
car had hit him. No, it wouldn't have been worth it, taking that risk.

They went on to talk about other things. “The whole school knows about you winning the contest,” he told Freddie. “But unfortunately,
a lot of them are saying it was rigged. The best boarders hadn't taken part—Nate Sherman, Brad Forest, Dondi…”

“Dondi? They're saying he's one of the best boarders?” Freddie asked in surprise.

“A couple of people said that,” Eric confirmed. “Hey, he hangs out with Brad and Nate, so I guess the reputation rubs off.”

“Hmmm.”

“Now don't go getting any ideas,” Eric warned him.

“I could make it down that ravine,” Freddie said coolly.

“Maybe you could,” Eric said. “But it's not worth taking the chance. Anyway, your brother would wipe out for sure. He might
really get hurt. You know about those other poor kids–”

“I know, I know. That's why I turned it down,” Freddie said.

Just then, Clarissa walked by their table. “Hi, Eric,” she said with a smile. Then the smile vanished. “Hi, Freddie.” She
continued on her way—right to Dondi's table, where she gave him a dazzling smile.

Freddie saw red. Everything Dondi had ever done to him crystallized in that one instant. His promise to his father flew right
out of his head. His good feelings toward Dondi disappeared. His healthy fear of Devil's Ravine was gone. So everyone thought
the contest had been rigged, huh? That the best boarders hadn't even competed? He'd show them!

When Dondi got up to dump his trash, Freddie grabbed his arm. “You're on,” he said coldly.

“Huh?” Dondi turned to face him. “What did you say?”

“I said you're on. Devil's Ravine. You and me.
Mano a mano.
”

Dondi blinked in shock. His jaw dropped.

“What's the matter, Dondi?” Freddie said. “Not up to your own dare?”

Dondi's face hardened. He pointed a finger at Freddie and said, “You want it? You got it. Only one of us is gonna win this
time, squirt.”

F
reddie sped down the slope, out of control and at top speed. The rock just ahead was coming straight at him, as fast as a
speeding car. He tried to get an edge, to steer the board away from the half-hidden boulder. But it was impossible. He started
to scream just before he slammed into it!

Freddie awoke with a start and sat bolt upright in bed. Sweat was pouring down his face, and he was gasping for breath. Had
it really been only a dream?

It had seemed so real. Freddie had never been to Devil's Ravine in winter, but he'd hiked there in summer once. It was a steep
drop between two hillsides with several spots that would be good jumpoff points.

But Devil's Ravine also had lots of blind turns, and
in places there were fallen trees and sharp rocks jutting up from the ground. Now, in winter, those rocks and fallen trees
would be half hidden and doubly treacherous.

Freddie looked at his alarm clock. It was 4:15
A.M.
He had to get back to sleep or he'd be too tired to handle his math test later in the day. He lay down again and shut his
eyes. But his heart kept pounding, too fast and too loud. And the image of the rock speeding at him wouldn't fade from his
mind.

He wound up rising at 5:30, unable to stand it any longer. Yawning, he got washed and dressed and went downstairs to make
himself breakfast. He watched early morning cable TV as he ate and waited for Dondi.

Around 7:15, Dondi came down the stairs, toweling his long hair dry. “Hey, you're up early,” he said when he saw Freddie.

“Dondi, I've got to talk to you,” Freddie said.

“What? You chickening out again?” Dondi asked. Freddie thought his voice sounded just a little bit hopeful.

“Dondi, just listen for a minute. I was there once, during the summer. I saw the slope and the rocks
and stuff. And I'm not sure I can make it down Devil's Ravine without getting hurt. I mean really hurt. And, well, I don't
know how to say this, 'cause you're not going to like it… but if I can't do it, how are you going to do it?”

“What are you saying?” Dondi asked. “Are you saying you're better than me?”

“Dondi…”

“'Cause if that's what you're saying, you're just wrong, man. Especially in downhill. I've been practicing.”

“Once, you practiced.”

“Twice,” Dondi corrected him. “But that's not the point. I'm good, man. You should see me going down the intermediate slope.”

“This is Devil's Ravine. It's a little different.”

“You are chicken,” Dondi said.

“Aren't you?” Freddie said. “Or are you so stupid that you think you're Superman or something?”

“Look, you want to back out, back out. I don't care. Just say you're chicken and get it over with.”

Freddie grunted in sheer frustration. Why wouldn't Dondi listen? “I'm trying to do you a favor, you idiot!” he bellowed.

“Don't do me any favors, okay?” Dondi said. “And don't waste my time. You have two choices—you can back out and be a chicken,
or you can race me down Devil's Ravine and be a loser. Ha! Yeah! That's your choice!” He flicked his towel playfully at Freddie
and turned to go.

“You're wrong, big shot,” Freddie called after him, white with anger. “I've got a third choice. I can race you down Devil's
Ravine and win!”

Freddie grabbed his book bag and went out the front door, slamming it behind him. As he walked down the street toward the
school bus stop, he was sure he felt his father's eyes on him.

Freddie turned to see if his father really was looking through the window. But the shade was down. Esteban was still sleeping.
But Freddie could see those eyes in his mind, accusing, pleading, and finally, disappointed.

Freddie trudged on toward the corner. The guilt was overpowering. But there was no way out now. The race would have to go
on.