Kailing

(Skateboarding began in the 70s. Says Internet resources. I figured it might have been a little cooler back then than it is now. Because honestly, skateboarding is super stupid. I thought about making this kid be a biker, instead. Sort of like how Slash was. But, i went with skateboarding.)

Jeanette threw the bag of trash in the big trash can and closed the lid to wheel it out to the street. She hated this chore. She'd tried getting out of it by hurrying out of the house to meet her friends, but her father caught her at the back door.

"Before you leave," Mr. Valenti said, "make sure you take out the trash."

Jeanette grabbed hold of the handle, tipped the can back on the two wheels, and lugged the thing out from behind the garage. She rounded the back corner of the house and heard a scraping noise coming from the street. It was like metal scraping against wood.

Someone rode a skateboard down the street toward a homemade railing about knee height. He jumped and slid the skateboard up with a foot.

It wasn't until he looked over at her that she realized she'd stopped in the middle of the driveway to gawk.

"Hey," he said, tipping his head.

"Hi." Jeanette dragged the trash can the rest of the way down the drive. She set it along the curb and was about to hurry inside, when the boy skated over to her.

"You live here?" he asked.

She pursed her lips and nodded, crossing her arms and shifting her weight on one foot as if he was wasting her time.

The boy was new to her, though. She'd never seen him around town before, let alone on her street. So she stayed to hear his story.

Blue eyes peered at her from beneath his dark, curly hair. He had on baggy jeans, a black t-shirt, and white sneakers. The skateboard beneath an arm said BLAKE across the length of it with a silhouette of an alien at the bottom.

"My grandpa lives across the street." He pointed over his shoulder at a two-story Tudor. That was Mr. Kailing's house. Jeanette didn't know he had grandchildren. He mostly kept to himself and never had people over. He was nice, though. Last summer when Jeanette had a flat tire, Mr. Killing had come out and changed it for her. He might have been close to seventy, but he still got around well.

"Your grandfather, huh? That's nice," she said, nodding quickly. "Well, i have to go."

"Hey, Blake!" Someone called.

The boy, presumably Blake, glanced at Mr. Kailing's house and Jeanette couldn't help but look, too. The man who'd yelled from the front porch had one of those deep, husky voices that you couldn't help but follow.

A large black man waved from the porch.

"That's my... uh... uncle," Blake said.

Jeanette raised her brow. "Really?"

Blake looked a bit mixed, but Jeanette thought it could have been Mexican. Could he have some African American in him? Mr. Kailing was white, but that didn't mean one of Blake's parents wasn't black.

Blake dropped the skateboard and put a foot on it. "It was nice meeting you..."

"Jeanette."

He smiled. "Jeanette." He propelled the board forward with his left foot. "I'll see ya 'round, Jeanette." he called over a shoulder before disappearing inside Mr. Kailing's garage.

The man standing on the porch waved Jeanette a peace sign before heading back inside. The screen door closed behind him.