Scrambled by Huw Davies

tongue seen to.) Davidde put his hand to his chin to help him think, but as he did, the race started and Lyndon was off to a flier. Davidde quickly engaged the clutch but he was already miles behind. He cursed his stupidity.
    Lyndon had a huge lead. Davidde gained on him slowly, but at the end of the first lap Lyndon still had the edge. He wasn’t showing off this time, so Davidde found it hard to catch up, but at least he felt he’d earned a little bit of respect. On the second lap Davidde’s power started to count and he was right behind Lyndon. He followed in hisslipstream and waited for the third lap to make his move. He was enjoying himelf again. He could tell Lyndon didn’t like having him right behind. His frontrunner’s movements were jerky and showed signs of panic. It was just a matter of time – take him on the inside, like Dwayne said.
    But as they started on the third lap, Davidde lost a little bit of concentration. He became aware that his father was stood on one tip, looking down on him, clapping and shouting encouragement. On another, Davvide thought he could see the Black Rider, motionless on the big black bike. He felt under pressure to perform. He blinked hard, shook his head and decided to make his move. He made ground and got within passing distance and went for the inside, but Lyndon blocked him off!
    Davidde lost quite a bit of speed, he wasn’t expecting Lyndon to do that – he didn’t last time. He waited till the next corner, but Lyndon blocked him again. They were on the final straight – Davidde had to use his power now, that’s all he had left.
    He told himself not to look round if he pulled ahead – that’s how he lost last time!
    He opened up the throttle and his bike took off. He pulled level with Lyndon. He was tempted to turn sideways and look Lyndon in the face as he pulled clear, but he fought the feeling and concentrated on what was in front of him. No potholes, no danger. He spotted Lyndon’s bike through the corner of his eye as he pulled clear, till he was only aware of the Lyndon’s front wheel. He was ahead, but he couldn’t shake the front wheel, it was still there!
    He was dying to look but he couldn’t.
    The wheel was still there!
    The line was approaching – he had to look!
    He could only take a quick look.
    He looked. He couldn’t believe what he saw.
    He had to look again!
    The front wheel was there, but that’s all there was. Lyndon and the rest of the bike were nowhere to be seen.
    Davidde looked to the front to check for holes and slowed down as he approached the finishing line. He allowed himself to look behind him. He could see Lyndon’s bike on its side, the front twisted and bent. Lyndon himself had flown over the front of the bike, his head landing in apothole, his body sticking up straight out of it, his legs waving in the air. Davidde laughed and pulled a wheelie as he crossed the line.
    Winning felt fantastic!
     
    His father ran to him and there were tears in his eyes!
    ‘Dai, Dai! I don’t know what to say – I just feel so – proud!’
    Davidde didn’t know what to say either. This was the first time his father had felt proud of him. For all the work he did in school, he realised that his father just didn’t get it. This sort of thing he understood.
    ‘I mean, you would have beaten him anyway, but when he went over his handlebars, well … I know it’s bad, but it was, like, the funniest thing I ever seen in all my life.’
    ‘I’d better see how he is, Dad.’
    ‘Aye, you do that.’
    Davidde rode over. Lyndon was out of the hole now. He was sat on the floor, winded.
    ‘You better not be coming here to gloat.’
    ‘No – I’ve come to see you’re OK. You OK?’
    ‘Aye, butt. I would have beaten you then. I’llbeat you in the proper race, you remember that. You had a lucky break this time.’
    Lyndon was OK. Nothing was his fault, as usual. Davidde thought that if Lyndon had checked his bike properly he wouldn’t have had a