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CHIP CHIPS JAM

ISABELL SOMMER & SWEN REINHARDT

1. The Team is complete
Imprint

Š Isabell Sommer & Swen Reinhardt

published by: epubli GmbH, Berlin

www.epubli.de

ISBN 978-3-8442-7389-2

All rights reserved

Nachdruck, auch auszugsweise, Übersetzung und jede Art der Vervielfältigung oder Wiedergabe nur mit Quellenangabe und schriftlicher Genehmigung der Verfasser.

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www.chip-chips-jam.com

The sun burned relentlessly hot on the azure sky over Hamburg on this warm summer day. The asphalt was shimmering with heat and the streets of the Hanseatic city were as if swept completely empty. The two million habitants of Hamburg seemed to pack themselves on the Elb bank like sardines in a box to catch a refreshing drop of the cool wet.

Joe sat bored on the stairs in front of the Gedaechniskirche and kicked his skateboard back and forth wearily. The weather was indeed perfect to cruise all the stairs of the city up and down, without getting pointed out by the passersby that skateboarding in the pedestrian zone is strictly forbidden. Nevertheless the fun was really overshadowed by the strong heat. He wanted to go for a last round before he annoyingly had to deal with the nerving homework. His mom was probably already on 180 - supposing she already had a look into his school bag with her controlling eyes and discovered that he sneaked out secretly without even starting his homework. Only five days left until his 11th birthday! Hopefully he d get from his parents the desired new Santa Cruz skateboard with the cool yellow-orange fire paintwork and optimum suspension to try out all his newly learned tricks. The wheels of his old board have been driven away so that one couldn’t recognize anything anymore. It was more than embarrassing to show oneself on the streets with that ugly thing! But it was useless anyway: He should get himself home if he didn’t want to get into some big trouble with his parents. Moaning and sweating he swung himself on his board and sped past the empty stores and packed ice cream parlors in direction of Blankenese where he has been living with his parents in a small apartment under the roof of an old mansion for a short time.

After he cruised at a brisk speed for a few minutes, the sweat poured from his forehead and his dark blond chin long hair was drenching. Though he was plagued with the short time left, he had to stop for a brief rest on the park bench under a big beech tree to cool down a bit. Somewhere in his pants a chewing gum pack had to be found. Hectically Joe started to dig in his pant pockets and instead of the chewing gum found a rumpled, dirty note. Damn, this is where he hit the F of the math’s text from the rigorous eyes of his mom! The signature line at the lower end of the proof was as blank as yesterday, when the math teacher distributed the test and Joe decided to reveal the message to his parents after his birthday. While he was trying to get his head around if it would be wiser to talk to mom or dad about his screwed test his gaze fell on the driveway of the park deck on the other side. A boy, probably in the same age, and with a completely stupid haircut tried himself down the driveway with his board. To be honest, the skateboard was the newest on the market and pretty cool. But it couldn’t hide the fact that he didn’t understand anything about this sport. Chewing his gum Joe observed the boy for a long time, until the would-be skateboarder looked to him with a mean face und shouted all over the plaza: “Why are you looking so stupid? Do I have green pimps in my face or what? Get out, you idiot!” Joe threw aside the hair from his forehead. This was more than an invitation to show that dumb head who was the idiot here. Boldly he jumped on his skateboard and cruised with a few easy jumps to the poser. The boy stared at Joe with his mouth wide open as he stopped just about in front of him. “Close your mouth, it smells! And before you have open a big stupid mouth think about who is in front of you. There is only a few who can top me with the skateboard.” This sentence worked. Joe already turned coolly to go off when the unknown boy had finally found his composure again. “We meet tomorrow at 3 at the half pipe next to the Elbe. Then we will see which one of us is the better here.” Cockily he raised his eyebrows and spat on the floor just in front of Joe. „Assuming that you are not a coward. I will be waiting for you!” With this he took his skateboard and disappeared into the direction of Alster Street. Alright, if the poser really wanted to blame himself then that wouldn’t be Joe’s fault.

A good half an hour later Joe opened the apartment door. He hadn’t even gotten to the wardrobe when he heard already his mom shouting with a sharp piercing voice: “Joe! Come to me straight away! Hurry up!” The sound of her voice didn’t tolerate any protest so that he hurried to obey. His mom sat on the corner bench in the kitchen. She emptied the contents of Joe’s school bag in front of her on the kitchen table. “Sit down!” She pointed to an empty chair next to her. Actually Joe wasn’t in the mood of discussing the school issues with his mom but because of his birthday wish he didn’t want to screw it up with his mom. His mom was usual a pretty relaxed person. When it came down to school though she wasn’t to be fooled with. “What do you see on the table, my dear son?” Joe lifted his shoulders perplexed. “My school stuff, why?” With pointed fingers his mom pulled out a moldy sandwich, skater stickers, a used tissue and a not finished punishment assignment. “I would rather say a middle sized pile of waste. Clean it up, right away!” Joe couldn’t understand all that hassle because of the little junk in his schoolbag, but in a discussion with his mom he would get the short straw. Was there anything else left besides starting the work grumbling? After he put the pile into his schoolbag again and sorted out the junk he got himself to the homework for German. Joe hated nothing more than reading some boring texts that didn’t interest him at all and then, to make matters worse answer stupid questions about them. But it was helpless; he had to go through this.

If Joe thought that he could go off with his board after finishing his work and roam the streets of the Hanseatic city, then he reckoned it without his mom. After she controlled his school bag and was finally satisfied with the result she stroked the head of her son satisfied. “This morning I was in the city and I got you something beautiful. You will probably be really happy about it.” Full of expectations Joe looked at his mom going to the wardrobe and rustling mysteriously in a plastic bag. Maybe she bought him that extremely cool cap that he recently adored in the skate shop around the corner. With a mysterious smile on her lips his mom stepped into the kitchen and hid one hand behind her back. “Close your eyes!” Joe’s eyes were shining with anticipation. He already imagined the jealous looks of his schoolmates when he would appear in the class with this cool cap. Strange - the thing in his hand felt squeamish, cold and somehow not like the hot thing he anticipated. More like one of these extremely dull books! Slowly and full of bad anticipation Joe opened his eyes. “Math Fun for the 4th grade - practice and comprehension with fun” was standing on the orange shining workbook. Yawn, what kind of idea his mom has of something “beautiful”. Apparently she understood something completely different from him. Did he look like a nerd one could make nuts with a math work book? His mom seemed to totally ignore his disappointment. “I knew I could please you with this! Come on, get your pencil case and let’s get started right away!” What other things did his mom still want from him?

First he had to organize his school items and now he should sit down in the bright afternoon and swat math, although his parents couldn’t possibly know anything about his F in math. “Mom, usually I would love to stay here and practice with you. But today it’s impossible, I still have a meeting today. „Is it possible that your meeting has instead of two legs four wheels? Alright, for today you are dismissed but tomorrow you are not getting away from me, understood?” Joe nodded politely, dashed out of the apartment as fast as possible and snatched his skateboard in the stairway. A feeling of freedom flew through him as the wind touched his hair und the wheels under his board were getting faster. In nearly five minutes he finally arrived at the half pipe at the Elbbank. The site looked deserted. Only hard boarders like Joe threw themselves even in temperatures over 30 degrees onto their board. Admittedly a refreshing jump into the cool wet would have been nicer for him, but he wouldn’t want to blame himself in front of the poser tomorrow. Joe skated himself warm. Then he began to practice his tricks one after another. Ollie, Nollie, Fakie, Backside, Flip. Surely the boy from today’s afternoon wasn’t fit at all - except in blurring stupid slogans. The heat accumulated in the pipe and was becoming unbearable, so that Joe already had to return home after half an hour. The hot summer weather was really the enemy of every boarder, although it definitely had its advantage - almost every day was a hot weather holiday.

****

The next school day even started with a double hour of mathematics. As much as Joe tried, he simply didn’t understand anything about all the numbers and letters that Mister Kramer wrote on the blackboard. Anyway, it didn’t want to get into his mind what letters have to do with numbers at all, so he passed the time with writing down on his blotter the order of skate tricks that he wanted to show the poser his afternoon. The loud penetrating voice of his teacher got him back into the harsh reality. “Joe! Come on to the board and solve the next exercise for us!” Joe felt clearly how the blood jumped into his head. He had absolutely no idea how he should solve the calculation. Clueless he stood in front of the class and tried somehow to achieve a half way logical calculation. The holler and laughter of the class was definitely not a good sign. “Joe, sit down!” Mister Kramer swept silently the calculation from the board and turned to him: “I haven’t gotten back yesterday’s test with a signature! What’s the matter?” What was he supposed to tell the teacher? Now a quick reaction was needed. Stammering Joe answered: “Eh, my parents are away for a few days and my grandma, eh, looks after me. Tomorrow I’ll take the signed note with me, Mister Kramer.” The teacher raised his eyebrows startled and yet was satisfied with the answer. “Ok then, then tomorrow!” Geez, he almost forgot the crumpled test in his pants pocket. How lucky it was that he put on the same pants as yesterday. Otherwise his mom would have noticed the test while washing the clothes! He definitely had to think hard for a solution to this problem, but today it was the time for the duel with the little parole. The signature underneath the F had to wait then until tomorrow.

Finally 12.45! Joe jumped up, caught his school bag and ran as fast as possible to the school gate. He couldn’t arrange much time for lunch and homework if he wanted to be punctual at the pipe. Barely 15 minutes later he stood in front of the apartment door and announced his coming with the daily full on ringing of the doorbell. Usually it didn’t last for 10 seconds until his mom opened the door unnerved. But today nobody opened him. There was nothing left for Joe then to search his yesterday’s neatly sorted schoolbag for his key and to unlock the door himself. “Mom? Dad?” No answer. He went down the narrow corridor into the kitchen. Normally his mom was frying and cooking at this time, but instead of the usual sight only a note was lying on the kitchen counter.

“Dear Joe, I have an appointment and am home not until 5 pm. In the oven is lasagna that you have to heat up. No funny business! Kiss, Mom.”

Right on, even an unlucky fellow like Joe had a bit of luck in life! Delighted he rubbed his hands. At least his mom was not in his way and couldn’t stop his meeting at the pipe with some dull school exercises from the presented work book.

To not lose any time, he scribbled his homework briefly into the German exercise book and swallowed down the lasagna at the same time. Actually it was very practical to combine lunch and homework. The only downside was that Joe didn’t think about washing his hands as he turned the pages of the book. Now his homework was adorned with a cherry-sized, pale orange shining grease spot. Joe didn’t mind, but he could visualize very well the drama that his mom would perform tonight. To save himself the fuss, he thought heavily how he could cover up the grease spot. Maybe a small football sticker would fit? No, Misses Boehm-Landraf wasn’t the sort of teacher who would appreciate artistic freedom in the homework. Another solution had to be found. Maybe he should paint around the grease spot a small fringe with a stalk, so that the teacher thought he painted a pretty orange? Yes, that was the easiest. In no time Joe scratched - well, one couldn’t recognize it that clearly - something like an orange. 2.30 pm - now it was urgent to get going into the direction of the pipe. Maybe the loser would think that he would duck. In lightning speed he packed his homework and put the plate into the sink. He turned around the note of his mother and scribbled hastily a message on the back side:

“Dear mom, I finished homework. I m going to skate for a bit and will be back around 6. Yours, JOE!”

He quickly ran into his room and exchanged the school clothes for the cool new skater outfit he could wheedle out of his grandma with a lot of diplomatic skill during a common shopping tour in the city last week. If he already had to ride with an extremely uncool board at least he wanted to crow with clothes. A last checking glance in the mirror and away he was.

Shortly before 3 Joe dashed along a long passageway seamed by trees through a small park to the half pipe. Probably the poser showed the white feather. Joe circled for a few warm up rounds. Suddenly he heard a mysterious rustling in the bushes. His look wandered to the direction of the sound and he asked himself what kind of animal would have its hideout there. While he observed the bush attentively, the branches went aside and crawling out came the little poser. With a brisk walk he came towards Joe and stopped a few meters in front of him. Without saying anything both boys stared at each other for half an eternity. Joe tried to read any emotions in the face of the other but it didn’t work. “I didn’t expect that you had the guts to appear here with your old deck.” To underline his opinion he spat Joe right in front of his feet, just like the last time they met. “Instead of posing around, you can prove it to me that you got it! With your amazing deck it’s certainly not a problem to do some tricks.” The counterstrike worked for Joe. The dumb head’s jaws fell down and instead of jumping on his board and showing his abilities he stared at Joe with big eyes. His look almost evoked some pity. “Well, then I’ll start myself!” Joe shouted. Before the poser realized Joe skated with his age old but well ridden board a few easy warm up sessions. Then he started to show off his long practiced tricks at the top edge of the half pipe. The boy sat on his skateboard and looked at him spellbound. He was visibly impressed by Joe’s abilities. After an extremely well done big spin (= a complete turn of the deck) he skated easily to him. “Now its your turn! Show me what you’ve got.” In the meantime the poser became quite meek. Joe almost had the feeling that he wasn’t the same arrogant boy as before. Insecure he stood up, walked to the pipe and got hesitantly on his skateboard. But even after a few minutes he wasn’t able to do anything more than to skate back and forth unsteadily. Suddenly he prepared himself at the top edge of the pipe for a risky jumping maneuver. This had to go wrong, he jumped way to early! And just as Joe anticipated it happened that way. The deck flew with its skater high into the air and both landed quite hard and with a loud bang on the floor. Gleeful Joy laughed for a moment, but got himself together and ran to the challenger. The boy was lying aching and with bloody knees on the floor. “Is everything okay?” Joe asked carefully. “Well, I got to admit I’ve been better.” the boy answered groaning. Joe reached out his hand and helped him up carefully. “Are you able to move everything? Try it!” Aching he did the jumping jack and then turned to Joe again: “Nothing’s broken, but I still have pain everywhere! But - thanks! That was really fair of you - what’s your name anyway?” The first anger was suddenly gone away. Actually Joe found him quite sympathetic although he posed a bit too much about his skateboarding skills. “Joe and you?” A grin flitted along his face as he answered: “In real life my name is Tom, but my nickname is Sketchy. You just have seen why!” Joe had to laugh out loud and couldn’t come down for a while. This nickname totally fitted the boy. Sketchy actually means in the boarder slang an insecure skating style, and this is what Tom just had shown to him. Both boys laughed until they had tears in their eyes. The ice between them was broken. “Your board is really quite cool. I’m wishing for the same one on my birthday. I only hope that my parents have gotten that all this time. Sketchy stroked his board fondly. “Unfortunately the accident left a mark on the board. A few wood chips are splintered off.” Like a pro Joe checked the skateboard. “The few chip chips are not that terrible!” Sketchy raised his eyebrows and asked perplexed: “What things? I’m as insecure on the board as I’m in the skater slang!” Joe pointed to the wood chips and explained: “The wood chips are called like that!” Sketchy seemed to like the word and repeated it for a several times: “Chip Chips, Chip Chips, Chip Chips.