Grind by Eric Walters Page A

this if you don’t want to.”
    â€œIt’s okay,” Wally said. “I’ll do it. I
want
to do it.”
    â€œThat’s the way,” I said, although, looking at him, it was obvious he wasn’t feeling good about it.
    â€œI can make the trick,” Wally said.
    â€œI know you can do it,” I said, offering encouragement.
    Wally gave a timid little smile, nodded and started away for the bank.
    â€œDo you really think he can do it?” Lisa asked quietly.
    â€œHe’s a good skater. Besides, sometimes you have to just go for it regardless of what happens.”
    â€œAnd sometimes you don’t,” Lisa said. I knew she wasn’t just talking about Wally and the jump.
    I turned away from her. Wally was by the bank. He skated up high—higher than I’d ever seen him before. He did a kick flip and started back down, picking up more and more speed—he was flying! He kicked hard and the board jumped up onto the rail. He went grinding along the top … suddenly the board got caught and Wally went flying through the air, crashing into the pavement!He landed and his head bounced against the asphalt with a sickening thud. Then the only sound was the wheels of his board as it went skittering away.
    â€œWally!” Lisa screamed.
    Her cry unfroze me. I raced to Wally’s side. There was a gash on the side of his head and blood was forming a puddle beneath him. His right leg was sticking out at a strange angle. His eyes were closed—he was knocked out! His chest heaved and I heard him inhale. He was breathing!
    â€œCall an ambulance!” I gasped. “Some-body call an ambulance!”

Chapter Thirteen
    â€œPhillip?”
    I was almost asleep. The voice made me jump. Wally’s mother stood in front of me.
    â€œYou’ve been here all night?” she asked in her heavy Polish accent.
    I nodded. I’d spent the night in the little waiting area down the hall from Wally’s hospital room. My parents had tried to convince me to go home, but when I refused to leave they reluctantly let me stay.
    â€œYou
good
friend to Wally,” she said. “
First
friend in new country still
best
friend.”
    Another wave of guilt hit me. A good friend would have stopped him instead of pushing him.
    â€œHow is he doing?”
    â€œSleeping. Groggy because of all the drugs given for his pain in leg.”
    I knew Wally was hurting. Just before the ambulance had arrived he’d regained consciousness and begun howling in pain. Wally was one of the toughest people I’d ever known, so I could only imagine how bad the pain must have been. Actually, I didn’t want to imagine.
    â€œI know his leg is broken. How bad is it?”
    â€œNeed operation to put in pin, but first swelling must go down. Probably tomorrow will do surgery.”
    â€œWally is tough. He’ll get better fast.”
    Mrs. Waltniski bent down and kissed me on the forehead. “Good boy, good kind boy.”
    I felt like arguing. I wasn’t that good or kind. I liked things to go my way. Now Wally, he
was
good and kind.
    â€œI go home,” she said. “Wally asleep and have to get other kids ready for school. Do you want ride?”
    I shook my head. “I’d like to stay here. Do you think I could sit in Wally’s room? I’d be quiet. I wouldn’t wake him.”
    â€œGo, keep him company. Good that some-body will be with him. If he wakes, tell him that his daddy will be coming soon.”
    â€œI’ll tell him.” I stood up and Mrs. Walt-niski threw her arms around me and gave me a hug. I felt my rib cage compress as she squeezed. Everybody in the family was strong. She released her grip and walked away, leaving me in the waiting area.
    Now that I could go and see Wally, I didn’t know if I wanted to. It would be easier to sit here and read fifteen-year-old copies of
National Geographic
. But I couldn’t do that.
    I walked