“He’s not asleep, is he, Finn?” she asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Then what?”
“Trapped over there,” Finn said.
“What’s that mean?”
“It means we left him, and we shouldn’t have, and now he’s stuck back there. On this side, he’s asleep. Over there, he’s still a DHI. Who knows what’s happened to him.”
“You think he’s been caught or something?”
“I hope not,” Finn answered. “But this is nothing but bad. Real bad.” Finn felt a cool wind on his back. He craned over his shoulder to look.
Though Finn said nothing, Amanda, riding alongside him said, “I feel it, too. Check out your handlebars.”
Finn touched his handlebars: ice cold. His fingers left small patches of vapor behind as he removed them.
“Just like the car wash,” she said.
Finn didn’t need to be told what that sudden chill meant.
He scoured the immediate area for any sign of Maleficent.
He saw only cars, storefronts, and power lines.
Black cars, red cars, blue cars, and white.
Small cars, big cars, dull cars, and bright.
Where did they come from? Where were they going?
Some cars were driving; some cars were towing.
“Do you ever think in rhymes?” he asked her, wondering where that had come from.
She glanced over at him, gravely concerned.
“What?” he asked.
“You’re thinking in rhymes?”
“So what?”
She answered, “It’s one of the signs—it’s something….” She caught herself. Her voice trailed off.
“What signs?”
She allowed her bike to fall behind him so far that he couldn’t see her. So Finn slowed as well, and they dueled this way: Amanda slowing, then Finn slowing to join her, until they had come to a stop.
“What do you know about this?” he asked, feeling agitated and impatient. “It’s a sign of what?”
To their right was a community center and adjoining it an enormous skateboard park with a half pipe, a full pipe, jumps, and four tubs—a landscape of smooth concrete basins, like empty swimming pools, interconnected by ramps and tunnels, where a dozen kids were practicing stunts.
Amanda said meekly, “Rhyming is…it’s one of the signs of—witches.” With that, she rose up onto her pedals and zoomed off, turning in to the skateboard park.
The park was full of skaters,
Full of concrete alligators,
Kids in hoards, riding boards.
Sun was sinking, growing later.
Finn shook his head violently, side to side, trying to clear his thought and push away the rhymes. What had she just said? He couldn’t remember. All he could hear were rhymes. One thought found its way through: Amanda knows something she isn’t telling me. Finn raced to catch her.
This is weird,
Like a man with a beard.
Green skin and pigs’ eyes,
Frog legs and fireflies,
A dark cave with loud cries.
A girl with tears in her eyes.
Finn caught up to her. Amanda’s eyes were red. She’d either been crying or affected by the speed of her riding.
“Amanda…”
“I can’t tell you,” she said.
A motorized minibike zoomed noisily around the corner and dropped into the skate park. The rider was thin and wore a black leather top and pants and a black helmet with a silver-mirrored visor that hid his face.
The minibike came straight at them, showing no signs of slowing. On the contrary, it was on a collision course.
Amanda rose up onto her pedals and dropped her bike into the first big concrete bathtub. Finn followed. They climbed the opposing wall and flew up, airborne.
The minibike followed.
Finn rose from his seat, balanced the bike in the air, tipped forward, and dove into the next big concrete basin.
Amanda dropped into the half pipe to the left.
Separated like this, the minibike driver had to choose; it came at Finn.
The other boarders and bikers stopped what they were doing and watched the contest.
Amanda flew down the steep wall of the half pipe, picking up speed and launching into a high jump. Finn, parallel with her now, yanked his front wheel in midair and changed direction upon landing. He joined her, following inside the full pipe.
As the minibike entered the full pipe, Finn found the screeching whine of its motor deafening.
Out the end of the pipe, riding together now, Finn and Amanda raced to the bottom of the third tub, pushed down onto their seats by centrifugal force. As they raced up the opposing side, they lifted, tipped their weight in unison, and reversed their bikes. Aimed back down into the deep basin, the minibike whining toward them, Amanda bravely reached over with her left arm and grabbed Finn by the forearm. Finn returned the grip.