Skateboard Blues

A true story

The Anderson family had fallen on hard times now that the parents had divorced.  Jack Anderson, Jenson’s father, had gone off and married into another life.  Jack Anderson no longer had room in his “new world” for his son’s. When he left Jenson’s mom, he left Jenson and Jacob too. For this disruption in his life, Jenson hated his parents.  “Why did they stop loving each other?  Why did his dad see less and less of him?  Why was his mother always sad and “broke” all the time?” It was because she did not tell her children every little thing that happened to her. 

She shielded the children from the finances, she chose not to tell them when their father stopped making child support payments, and above all, she did the best she could living from paycheck to paycheck. A year ago, Jenson asked her for a skateboard.  Her answer was, “We’ll see.”

 In his bedroom, Jenson sat at the window staring at the street below where his friends played street hockey.  His friends were laughing and having a great time while he sat cooped up in the house.  He hated being confined to the house, it felt like the end of the world to him.  Jenson let out a heavy sigh of self-pity and lightly banged his head against the windowpane.  This was his fault it was always his fault when he got into trouble.  “Why did he think he could outsmart his mother?” Two weeks ago, he came home past curfew.  He thought everyone was asleep so he stealthily snuck into the house, made his way up the stairs… crawled into bed where he discovered he was not alone.  Jenson shrieked when he touched his mother…you know what followed.  The warden was on to him,  for this infraction, she gave him two weeks restriction—a fate, worse then death for a fifteen-year-old boy mainly because it was summer vacation.  He lost all privileges; he could not go outside, watch TV, use the telephone, or play on the computer.  Plus: to add insult to injury, he had to watch his little five-year-old brother who drooled and had the attention span of a moth!  And started to crawl into bed where he discovered he was not alone.  Jenson   shrieked when he touched his mother…you know what followed.  The warden had  out foiled his attempt to deceive her.  For this infraction, she gave him two weeks restriction—a fate, worse then death for a fifteen-year-old boy mainly because it was summer vacation.  He lost all privileges; he could not go outside, watch TV, use the telephone, or play on the computer.  Plus: to add insult to injury, he had to watch his little five-year-old brother who drooled and had the attention span of a moth!  On the upside, this was the last day of his restriction—tomorrow he was a free man so why was he suffering?  Well, he had the skateboard blues.  He wanted to go outside.  He begged the warden for leniency, for an early release, but she refused to grant him clemency.  His request denied. 

  Jenson’s friends skated up and down his street often stopping in front of his house to tease him.  He hated his mother and he hated them. If he were outside he would show them!  But, if he went outside the warden would know, she always knew—eyes in the back of her head and than some.  How did she do that?  He often thought there were cameras hidden secretly throughout the house and grounds, but he never found any when he looked for them.  The warden just had a way of knowing.

 Before his mother went to work, she repeated her instructions to him: do not go outside, watch television, or use the telephone.  Clean up the house, do the dishes, and remember to feed your brother.  Keep him out of trouble.

 “Bye now and have a nice day.”  She said with a smile.

“What time will you be home?”  He asked.

Thinking he was up to something she said, “Sometime around 2 PM.”

 Jenson did everything she asked him to do.  When he finished, he tried to read a book, but Jacob kept talking.  Jenson turned on some music, then Jacob was hungry, then he was thirsty, he fell halfway down the stairs, screamed bloody murder, had an accident in his pants and had to be bathed and dressed again.  Jenson put Jacob’s shoes on him and said,

 “Jacob, you are driving me crazy!  Why can’t you play with your toys?”

“I don’t know.  I guess I want to be with you.”  Jacob said.   

Jenson played with him for an hour or so then spent the rest of the day chasing Jacob around the house getting him out of things.  Finally, it was time for Jacob’s nap.  Jenson put him down and Jacob repeatedly got up.  Jacob refused to go to sleep.  The struggle went on for 30 minutes until Jacob exhausted himself and fell asleep.  “And they wonder why some teenagers drink.”  Jenson thought.  Now he finally had some time to himself.  He went into the garage to unwind and assemble a skateboard from castoffs he found at various garage sales over the past months.  He spent several hours working on his skateboard project.  He sanded the old wood, painted it, cleaned the wheels with gasoline, and reassembled everything. 

 When the paint dried, he stood on the board.  It sagged in the middle almost touching the ground.  That was cool…it was a low rider.  His skateboard was a homemade masterpiece to him. Finally, he had a skateboard of his own!  He rode on the board best he could in the limited space of the garage.  It was useless he could not test his skateboard in here!  He came into the house and put the board down on the living room rug.  That was brilliant, it sank into the carpet when he tried to move it.   He stood on the board anyway and inched up to the nose of the board, squatted down at the end he imagined himself hanging-ten at Big Surf.

 He glanced at the clock on the wall it was 1:45 PM.  The warden could come home at any minute or not. Jenson knew he could not rely upon any time his mother gave him.  She was seldom early—mostly she was late, but what would she be today?  Is it worth taking a chance? Perhaps it was.  He felt lucky. He went upstairs, checked on his brother—he was still sleeping.  Great!  Next, he came down the stairs and stepped out of the house carrying his skateboard.  With a pounding heart he ran out of his yard, feeling testosterone surging threw his veins.  “I am a man!  I can do this!” 

  His plan was simple; he would take one ride on his skateboard—just to test it out.  Then he would get back into the house before his mother came home.  He ran up the street (which was on a steep hill) put his skateboard down in the street and mounted it, placing one foot in the front, one in the back.  Then with his right foot, he pushed on the ground, repeatedly, until he had the speed he wanted for his ride—faster and faster he went, gravity kicked in and he went even faster.   Jenson shifted his weight to the right and to the left crisscrossing back and forth across the wide street.  It felt great!  Down the hill, he flew at speeds of 20 miles an hour.  The wind blowing against his body, he felt like he was soaring, free at last!  

The street Jenson’s lived on emptied into a residential intersection.  Suddenly, he was heading for that intersection and a car that looked very much like his mother’s car!  In a few seconds, she would see him.  He had to jump ship and fast!  He ran over to the bushes near his house and hid.  Then he watched his skateboard shoot out into the intersection and roll right under the back tire of the car.  It appeared that “Murphy’s Law” was against Jenson today.  The car crushed his skateboard flat! Cut it down in the prime of its’ short life.  Jenson screamed,  “My board! @#$%&*^%$ Oh, my board! I don’t believe it!  I don’t believe it!” The car continued up the road unaware of the destruction it had just caused.  On top of that it was not his mother!  “Oh, man!”  He ran out into the street, retrieve his board.  Both the wheels and the board were a goner it was terminal. The maiden voyage of the skateboard had been a disaster.  If he had only obeyed his mother, his board would still be intact.  All the time he put into building it was wasted.  He shook his head in disbelief and dropped the remains into the trashcan.  “All I need now is for the warden to come home!”  Jenson suddenly realized.  He collected his emotions and ran back into the house, and as fate would have it, his mother did pulled into the driveway just seconds later. He looked out the living room window and thought, “That was a close one.  I almost got two more weeks restriction.  Boy did I luck out!”  He thought.  His mother came inside.  “Hello Jenson! Did you have a good day? Where’s Jacob?”  She asked.

 “He is still napping…” 

“Jenson, I have groceries in the car, will you…”

“Okay mom, right away.” 

Moments later…they are both standing in the kitchen.

“Jenson, you didn’t bring in everything.  Something is missing.”  She said looking through the groceries as if something was really missing. 

“I thought I did.  I got everything out of the trunk.”

“Did you look in the backseat…on the floor?”

“You didn’t tell me to.”

“Well?”  His mother said with impatience.

Jenson walked out to the car and ran back into the house moments later.

“No, way!  No, way!”  He shouted.

His mother smiled at him.  “Do you like it?”

 “Do I!  It is the best skateboard I have ever seen!  Thank you mom!”  He gave her a hug and a kiss then stood looking at his new skateboard. 

“If you want to keep that baby you wont ever come in late again.”  She warned.

 “I won’t mom.  Ah, thanks.  You don’t know what this means to me.  This is the best day of my life.”  He said.  He kept his face away from hers, pretending to examine the skateboard—he felt awful inside.  He decided to be a man, his conscience getting the better of him.  He decided to come clean, tell her everything.  He looked up at her and spoke.  “Mother…can I go outside and try out my new skateboard?” 

 “No, you can not!  Have you forgotten you are on restriction?  You know the rules.”  She said sternly with her hands on her hips.  “You can ride your board tomorrow.  Now, help me put these groceries away.”

 “Okay, mom.  It was worth a try.”  He smiled.

  Jenson had had second thoughts about telling his mom that he went outside...she would kill him!  She would take his new skateboard away for weeks or forever.  He was sorry about disobeying her, but not that sorry.  Perhaps, one day he would tell her…when he was a grown man with children of his own.  Tomorrow he would ride the wind and most importantly—watch out for those damn cars!    

 The End  

 Written By: Cynthia E. Martin

Date:  July 21, 1999  

Copyright © 2001 by Visions West Inc. All rights reserved.

Last Updated: 03/14/02 08:29:59 AM