chapter eleven

“What was that all about last night, Goat?” I asked.

“What?” he said.

“Taking off on us.”

“That was McNaughton. He was being a jerk. No hard feelings, right?” Goat said.

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, hard feelings. We could have been busted.”

“Did Henderson see you?” Goat asked.

“Not dead on. But my clothes, yeah. He could likely identify me,” I said.

Goat waved the thought away. “What are you getting so angry about? Nothing happened. We had a cool time, right, Jack?”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “It was intense.”

“Where is McNaughton?” I asked. Sara had popped off the ramp and stood beside me.

“He went with his brother down to LA,” Goat said.

Of course he did, I thought. He wouldn’t want to face us after what he’d done.

“You won’t have to worry about him for a week or so,” said Goat. He waved the bundle of papers in his hand at us. “Who cares about McNaughton? Do you want to hear my next idea?”

“What next idea?” I asked.

“For the competition. I mean, you won the first one. I nailed the street course, and we have to call last night in the pool a tie,” Goat said.

“Why would we call it a tie?” I asked.

“Well, it got interrupted,” Goat said.

“That’s not the way I see it,” I said.

“Okay, how do you see it, Head Case?”

“I saw you jump off your board well before I laid a foot on the ground. I won,” I said.

Goat shook his head. “Really? What did you want us to do, keep skating until the police showed? Say, ‘Sorry, officer, we’ll be right with you, right after we finish this little competition’?”

“If you think it’s so stupid, then why are we doing it?” I asked.

Goat sighed and laid the mass of papers against his leg. He turned to Jack. “Would you like to hear what I’ve come up with?”

“Sure, man,” Jack said.

“All right, I was reading the script—” said Goat.

“What script?” I said.

Goat turned to me and said very slowly, “The movie script.”

I hadn’t read a script. I didn’t even know there was one. “Why do you have it?”

“I asked for it,” Goat said. “We need to have competitions that have something to do with the actual film, right? So I figured I’d read the script and see what whoever becomes the stunt double will have to do.”

“You can have a copy as well, Casey,” Jack said. “You just never asked. I was telling my agent about Goat, and he had no problem sending a script over. I’m sure he would do the same for you.”

Great, I thought. Now Jack’s been talking to his agent about Goat. “Sure, send me the script,” I said.

“All right, so there’s this old-school scene near the end of the script,” said Goat. “It’s a downhill.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “That’s a throwback to old skate films. What do you think?”

“I love it,” Goat said. “And it got me thinking we should have a competition like that.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“A downhill.” Goat held the script out. “In here, it says the skaters ride long boards.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Jack said. “I’ve never been on a long board.”

“They’re like normal skateboards, only longer, and the wheels are bigger,” I said. “You can go way faster on them.” Goat liked long boards. I could ride one, but they weren’t really my thing.

“Is there somewhere around here you guys could do a downhill run on long boards?” Jack asked. He smiled and brushed his floppy hair out of his face.

“Beacon Hill,” Goat said.

I shook my head immediately. “No way, Goat.”

“What?” Jack said. “What is Beacon Hill?”

“It’s this road that’s only open in the winter,” I said. “It’s just for trucks and plows to get up the mountain during ski season.”

“A kid died skating down it last year,” Sara said. “Skateboarding on it is banned now.”

“Sure, sure,” Goat said. “Skateboarders are banned from everywhere. Who will know? It’s not as if anyone lives on the road or even drives on it.”

“How do you get up there?” Jack asked.

“There’s another road that cuts across the top of the mountain. You can walk to Beacon Hill from it,” I said.

“Is it really that dangerous?” Jack asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“It’s all right if you know what you’re doing,” Goat said.

I did not want to ride Beacon Hill. I had heard of skaters going fifty or sixty miles an hour down it. There’s no way to control yourself at that kind of speed.

“Well, a stunt like this is going to be in the movie,” Jack said.

“Exactly,” Goat said.

Jack looked at me. “So, you would have to be able to do it for that, Casey. I mean, if you’re going to be my stunt double and all.”

“Exactly!” Goat said again.

“What do you think, Casey?” said Jack.

I shook my head. “It’s dangerous, Jack. Really dangerous.”

“Don’t think you can handle it?” Goat said.

“No, I can handle it. It’s just…”

“Perfect. All right. How about we meet here tonight,” said Goat. “Say around seven? I can drive us to the top of Beacon Hill, and Jack can leave his car at the bottom.”

“Sure,” Jack said.

“I’ll bring a bike you can ride down behind us,” Goat said. “You all right on a bike?”

“Oh yeah,” Jack said. “No worries.”

No worries, I thought. Yeah, sure. No worries at all.