Skateboards and Trucks Don’t Mix

I haven’t posted anything to this blog in a long, long time.  So I thought I would submit the work of my son Logan.  He wrote this in his 10th grade English class.  I liked it.  So here you go…

Skateboards and Trucks Don’t Mix

“Are you sure the bungee cord will hold?”  That’s what I should’ve said, instead of a crazy “Let’s do this!” and grabbing on to the cord.

It was a late summer night, where I sat with my friends Tanner and Sage at the neighborhood park.  I shot a bored look at the two of them, hoping that they had some idea of what to do, only to get the same look in return.  Suddenly, a pair of headlights blinded the three of us.

Tanner called to him as he jumped up and jogged over to the truck.  I grabbed my skateboard and followed Tanner.  As I peered into the window, I met eyes with Dylan, and saw the ideas forming in his mind.

“Hey, check the bed of the truck for a bungee cord,”  Dylan said in a mischievous voice.

I glanced at my skateboard and back at him and immediately bolted to the bed of the truck, to see a thin, bright orange bungee cord.  “Oh, this is gonna be fun,”  I chuckled to myself.

Five minutes later, the bungee cord was tied to a small knob on the back of the truck, and Sage was holding on for dear life.  The truck could only have been going five MPH, but Sage’s face showed straight terror as he leaped off his board, landing smoothly on his feet.

“Oh c’mon, I could go faster without the truck pulling me,”  Tanner taunted.

I hopped out of the bed of the truck, clutching my skateboard.  I then mumbled the second dumbest sentence I’ve ever said: “I got this,”

I glanced at the three of them in the truck, and verified that Tanner was recording this.  I felt the truck lurch forward and I was off.  Glancing down the road, my eyes widened seeing a turn coming.  This is insane I thought to myself.  I pushed my feet down hard on the board, to regain my balance.  As I skidded around the turn I saw a nice straight away.  Here was the chance to gain some speed.  It was at that point I shouted the dumbest sentence of my life: “Step on it,”

Through the steady sound of wind flying past me, I heard Tanner shout “20 MPH!”  This was too fast, Dylan needed to slow down.

“25!”  I couldn’t think straight, or focus on anything but trying not to fall off.

“Slow down!”  I shouted, but I could tell they couldn’t hear me.  I looked at my surroundings.  House after house flew by, faster than I’ve ever seen before.

“30!”  The cord kept stretching, I was at least 15 feet behind the truck now.  No slack left on the cord.  I glanced at the yards to the side of me.  I could bail, jump towards the lawn.  I could land two large steps before falling, would that be enough?

My thoughts were cut short by a loud snap.  I stole a look away from my board to see the bungee cord in two pieces.  One attached to the truck, the other in my hands, dragging along on the ground.  Barreling down the street, I did the only thing I could think to do, I jumped towards the nearest lawn.  Right as my feet pushed down on the board, I felt a huge bump and a sudden jerk on my hands.  The bungee cord pulled me down and I smashed straight into the ground.  I heard the screech of the truck brakes slamming to a stop.  My vision spiraled as I bounced off the street, onto the sidewalk and into a neighbor’s lawn.

I groaned as I put pressure on my hip.  Pulling my hand away, I couldn’t see any skin on my hand, just the dark red blood from my hip.  “You okay?”  I swiftly stood up hoping to look like I was fine.  That plan immediately backfired as my leg collapsed and I landed back where I started.  

“I’ll live,”  I said with a slight laugh.  My friends laughed and helped me up, into the truck.  I examined my hip, along with my shoulder and my scraped hands.  To my surprise, there were no broken bones, torn ligaments, nothing.  Just a couple scrapes and sore muscles, which would heal up easily.  I felt my heart pounding, almost bursting through my rib cage from adrenaline and excitement.  With a smile, I glanced at my friends.  “Totally worth it.”

Buy his book!  No wait.  He doesn’t have one.  Yet.

6 responses to “Skateboards and Trucks Don’t Mix

  1. Wow! This had more escalating tension than many books I’ve read. His teacher better give him an A!

  2. Hmmm … sounds like he writes from experience. That’s pretty descriptive. What did the parents say? Was he grounded? Has his skateboard been banished to the attic or burned in a bonfire? Did the video go viral? Has he been booked on Ellen?

    If this was a work of fiction … nice job. And glad to see you pop up here, funny blog guy.

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