Skateboard Tough by Matt Christopher Read Free Book Online

you know what’s being done in my backyard?” she asked.
    “It looks like you’re having it covered,” Brett said.
    “Well, part of it. But do you know why?”
    He shook his head. “I — I have no idea,” he answered.
    “None at all?” She was strangely excited, like a kid with a big secret.
    “No.”
    “I got to thinking about that letter you wrote,” she said.
    “Yes,” he said, puzzled.
What did his letter have to do with anything?
Then Brett’s heart began to pound, as an answer came to him.
Could it be …?
    Her words filtered through his thoughts. “That huge backyard of mine is just sitting there, growing grass and weeds. Why not do something worthwhile with some of it? Why not make it into something that kids who are crazy about skateboarding, and have no place to skateboard — just as you wrote in your letter — can use? So …”
    “Mrs. Weatherspoon!” Brett cried, filled with the most joyous feeling he’d had in all his life. “You’re building a skateboarding rink? That’s great! Oh, that’s just great, Mrs. Weatherspoon! You’re wonderful, you know that? You’re really wonderful!”
    He was so excited that he threw his arms around her and gave her a great big hug. Then he stepped back, suddenly embarrassed, but Mrs. Weatherspoon was beaming.
    “I take it you are in favor of the idea?” she said.
    “You bet! I can’t wait to try it out!”
    “Well, now, it won’t be finished for a few more days. Do you think you can wait until then?”
    Brett nodded. “I’ve waited this long, what’s a few more days? But can I tell everybody about it?”
    “I guess there’s no harm in that,” she said. “I just hope I’ll be able to handle the crowds when the time comes.” Mrs. Weatherspoon winked at him.
    “Maybe I won’t tell
everybody,”
Brett said, thinking of Kyle. “Maybe it should be a surprise to some people.”
    He raced home and told his family the good news. His parents were amazed.
    “It takes a lot of money to do something like that,” his father said. “Just the insurance alone …”
    “It’s very generous of her,” Brett’s mother agreed. “I sure wouldn’t do it.”
    We know that, Mom,
Brett thought. But he wouldn’t let her put a damper on his enthusiasm.
    Even Shannon was excited. She asked Brett if she could use his old board, Cobra, when the arena was ready.
    “Oh no, not another one!” Mrs. Thyson cried, her hands to her head.
    It took a few more days for the workers to finish the blacktop, because special bumps, curbs, and banked sides had to be included. Then a six-foot-high chain-link fence was built around it. Mrs. Weatherspoon was wise to do that, Brett thought, to keep every kid, cat, and dog in the neighborhood from overrunning the place.
    Brett was there when the last bolt was tightened, when the men cleaned up the mess they had made and drove away, leaving the blacktopped arena looking clean, shiny, and ready for action.
    But that wasn’t all. Two more men arrived, each carrying a wooden ramp. “Where do you want these?” one of them asked Brett.
    Brett thought a minute, then said, “One on each side.”
    The men placed the ramps on opposite sides of the rink. One of them said, “Have a good skate,” as they walked out.
    “Well, it’s ready, Brett,” Mrs. Weatherspoon said, admiring it alongside him. “It’s ready for you, and for your friends.”
    His heart thumped like a clock gone mad. “Oh, Mrs. Weatherspoon, I can hardly believe my eyes. This is what I’ve dreamed about, what I was wishing somebody would do. Only I never dreamed it would be you, Mrs. Weatherspoon. You’re the best.” He paused, tears choking his throat. “I’ll call up some of my friends, and I’ll be back with my skateboard.”
    Mrs. Weatherspoon gave him a pat on the back. “You do that,” she said. “Meanwhile, I’ll bring my chair back here.”
    He sped home, phoned a few guys—even W.E.—then got The Lizard and skated over to Mrs.