Skateboard Blues by Voeller Sydell

Author:Voeller, Sydell [Voeller, Sydell]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Books We Love Ltd.
Published: 2014-03-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

"Hey, knock it off!" I burst into laughter. "You're plastering me with paint!" Cam looked innocently ahead, dabbing the last few needed strokes of cream-colored paint against the outside south store wall. "Sure, sure. Now why would I do a thing like that?"

"Just to give me a bad time, that's why," I replied, laughing so hard now my sides hurt. "I hope Mr. Crosham has lots of paint remover," I added, "because I'm a total mess!" I peered down at my smudged hands. Thank goodness, I'd decide to wear one of dad's large flannel shirts over my jeans and sweater. At the last minute, I'd retrieved it from the box of clothing we'd set aside to take to the Goodwill.

After school the following day, Cam, Megan, and I dashed over to the old store to get started painting again. The other kids said they'd join us later. If we didn't waste time, we'd have a couple of hours of daylight left.

Though I'd been nervous about approaching Mr. Crosham the day before, he was much nicer than I'd expected. Not only had he provided us with plenty of paint and extra brushes, he'd also offered to pay each of us fifty dollars. Thinking about all the baby-sitting money I'd forked over to my sis, I'd jumped at the opportunity.

Now as I stroked more paint onto the wall, I caught sight of Fr. O'Riley walking in our direction. I waved, and he waved back. He was dressed in a plaid wool shirt and baggy jeans, and he carried a couple of paint brushes. Once we were face-to-face, I made quick introductions.

"You kids have saved Harry a lot of work," the priest said. "I know he appreciates that, though he sometimes doesn't show it."

"Fifty bucks for two hours of work isn't too bad," Cam said. He flicked a water-soaked paint brush in my direction and sent me a disarming smile. "Pretty soon we'll be rolling in big bucks."

"But that's not all!" I exclaimed. I told Fr. O'Riley about Cam's job at New World Skates, emphasizing what a pro he was. While we were painting and talking, Pete and Andy arrived. Soon Nick and three other skaters I didn't know had joined us too. Everyone was eager to get the job done, and Fr. O'Riley seemed pleased about that.

After we worked for a while, the priest put down his brush and asked, "Mind if I ask a favor, eh?"

"Of course not," I replied.

"I'd like to try to skate."

You could've knocked me over with a kitten's whisker. "Sure! Take my board!"

He tossed a glance over his shoulder towards the empty churchyard. "Just don't tell any of my congregation. A priest is supposed to be...well," he cleared his throat, "I guess you'd call it...proper, if you know what I mean."

We all laughed. Fr. O'Riley was right—he was certainly different from any priest I'd ever known.

He placed one foot on the board and began pumping furiously with the other foot. "Hold on world, here I come!" he called to no one in particular.

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