Johnny Hangtime by Dan Gutman Read Free Book Online

Johnny.”
    What a crock, I thought when I left his office. I knew perfectly well why I liked doing dangerous things. It felt good!
    When you’re doing a stunt, time stands still for an instant. You don’t think about your parents, your friends, your problems.Nothing else matters. It just gives me some internal satisfaction and makes me feel alive. I like a challenge. I like to move fast. I like the feeling of wind rushing by me. I didn’t need a psychologist to tell me that.
    I gave the receptionist an envelope from Mom. I had checked, and there were five twenty-dollar bills inside. A hundred bucks! That was probably more money than Mom made all day. I vowed that I wouldn’t go back to Dr. Carreon.
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    I don’t steal. I don’t smoke or drink or take drugs. But the next day I did a bad thing. I took the second $100 Mom gave me to pay Dr. Carreon and bought a pair of in-line skates with it.
    Somebody had posted a notice on the bulletin board of the local supermarket. A guy was selling a brand-new pair of top-of-the-line, state-of-the-art skates worth $400. My size. Aluminum frame. Removable brake. Built-in shock absorbers. Eighty-millimeter wheels. Triple-density foam liner. The guy had broken his leg and wouldn’t be needing the skates. He asked for $100, and I snapped them up.
    After school the next day I was scheduled to see Dr. Carreon again. Instead, I went to this skate park in Venice, California, near where we live. It had lots of ramps, verts, half pipes, rails, and all kinds of cool stuff to jump over.
    I had skated plenty of times before, but I never had a good pair of skates. I started doing some tricks, thinking the whole time that it was better therapy than talking with Dr. Carreon. I was eating the place up, really catching some big air, and noticed the other kids were watching me.
    The next day I went to the skate park after school again. It wasn’t very crowded yet so I pretty much had the place to myself. Ihad just ollied off the twelve-foot half pipe and went into an alley-oop hobo. That’s when you spin 180 degrees and then jump on a rail backward. It’s really hard to do, and you shouldn’t even try it unless you’re either really good or have a total lack of common sense.
    I grinded down the rail, did a quick grab, bumped some stairs, and attempted a fishbrain. I didn’t quite pull it off, and rag-dolled into the dirt.
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    When I looked up, there were two guys standing over me. One of them was a bald guy with a ponytail. That was the first time I met Roland Rivers.
    â€œRude, dude,” Roland said in his British accent. “You must be a real hammerhead.”
    I’m always suspicious of grown-ups who try to talk the talk. “Thanks,” was all I said, and started to skate away.
    â€œMay I rap with you for a moment, young man?” Roland asked.
    â€œI don’t talk to strangers,” I replied.
    â€œSmart boy,” Roland said, handing me his business card. “Then allow me to introduce myself so we won’t be strangers. My name is Roland Rivers, and I’m directing a film up the street. This is my assistant, Roger. Ever think of getting into movies?”
    â€œCan’t act,” I said.
    â€œDon’t have to,” Roland replied. “Can you do a back flip?”
    I couldn’t resist showing off a little. I skated over to an open area where there was a three-foot ramp and flipped head over heels. I’d done it plenty of times before. Then I skated back to him.
    â€œAwesome!” he said, applauding. “You like things fast, don’t you?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œWould you skate off the roof of a building?”
    â€œDepends on the building.”
    â€œOut of a plane?”
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œIs it because you like excitement,” Roland asked, “or are you just a fool?”
    I looked at him. I wasn’t sure if it was a serious question or a