Dunc Gets Tweaked

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Authors: Gary Paulsen
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and walked away, still bobbing his head. Amos and Dunc watched him go.
    “Did you understand a word he said?” Dunc asked.
    “No. I guess that’s what happens when you grow up in San Diego.”
    “Too much sun.”
    “Yeah.” Amos spun the skateboard’swheels again. “So much for advice. At least I have my secret weapon.”
    “And what’s that?”
    “I can’t tell you.”
    “Come on, Amos. I’m your best friend.”
    “So? Every time I tell you a secret, something bad happens.”
    “That isn’t true.”
    “Oh yeah? Remember the time I told you the secret about keeping the pet bat in my bedroom closet? That wasn’t good.”
    “But it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t tell your mother a thing about it.”
    “But she still found out. I lost a lamp, a mirror, and a bookshelf, and I got a pretty nasty bruise on my forehead.”
    “And she broke the tennis racket. Remember?”
    “I remember. She swung that thing like she was competing in Wimbledon, and the bat still got away.”
    “But it wasn’t my fault,” Dunc repeated.
    “It doesn’t make any difference. Something bad always happens when I tell you secrets.”
    “Come on, Amos.”
    Amos sighed. “All right. What was my biggest problem the last time I tried to skateboard?”
    “Mr. Meany.”
    “Besides him.”
    “The fact that you’re such a klutz.”
    “No. The biggest problem was, I couldn’t stay on the board. That’s where the secret weapon comes in. With it, I know I can do anything any other skateboarder can do, including Lash.”
    “And what’s your secret weapon?”
    “This.” He took a small plastic bottle out of his pocket.
    “What’s that?”
    “Epoxy glue.” He set the skateboard on the ground and put a couple drops of glue on it.
    “Don’t do this, Amos,” Dunc said. “You’ll kill yourself.”
    “No, I won’t.”
    Dunc had to think fast. “Maybe you better just go home. What if Melissa calls and you’re not there?”
    “I’m having all my calls transferred to the park. If she phones me, it’ll ring here.”
    He put two more big drops of glue on the board and stood on it. He tried to pick up his feet. They wouldn’t come loose.
    “Push me over to the gate.”
    Dunc sighed and did as he was told.
    “Now competing
,” the loudspeaker said,
“Amos Bender
.”
    “That’s Binder,” Amos shouted. “Did you hear me? That’s Bi—”
    The whistle blew and the gate opened and Amos was on the track.
    He swayed from side to side, barely staying upright, and his shirt flapped in the breeze behind him like a whip. He smoked up one side of the track, did a flip, and came down the other.
    Dunc didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but it didn’t matter. The crowd and the announcer loved it. It looked like Amos might actually make it to the end of the track without requiring any major surgery when the worst possible thing in the world that could happen happened.
    The phone on the judges’ table rang.
    Amos forgot about doing flips. He forgot about doing tricks of any kind. He forgot hisname. He leveled out the board and headed straight for the table, gaining speed all the way.
    He was going well over fifty when he hit the rise at the end of the track right in front of the judges.
    The board flew high up in the air, but he managed to reach down and grab the receiver as he arrowed straight toward a large tree.
    The phone cord had ripped off the telephone, but Amos didn’t know that. A branch hit him across the stomach. He was moving so fast, he tore it off the tree right at the trunk. The branch tipped up in the air and took out three power lines as Amos landed with a crash in the parking lot.
    The crowd was silent.
    The loudspeaker was dead. The next contestant tried to start his run, but the electric gate wouldn’t open.
    “Amos, are you all right?” Dunc ran down the length of the track to the parking lot.
    There was no answer. Amos was lying in the branches with the receiver up to his ear.His feet stuck up in

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