Goofy-foot - 1. Chapter 1

"What's your name, kid?"

"Jason Beribow. But my friends call me Goofy-foot."

"Oh, yeah? I think I heard about you. The picture taker, right?"

Jason beamed. "That's me."

The man nodded, and pointed down at Jason's flame-printed socks and Converses. "Like the look." But then his smile changed to a thoughtful frown. "Goofy-foot, huh? I never could get the hang of that, myself. I gotta lead my board with my left foot or I get into trouble." He laughed. "You don't?"

"Not when you're a natural." Jason held up his left hand and flexed his fingers. "I was born a lefty. So it's right foot forward for me."

"Oh, I gotcha." The older guy's eyes turned to Jason's board, where it stood against the front of the wire grille in the pirated shopping cart. "You didn't skate in?"

"Uh uh. I'm shooting today. Didn't want to risk my camera if I had to bail."

The other frowned, and gazed anew at the Nikon sitting in the cart's infant seat. "You do skate, though, right? Not just take pictures?"

Jason looked around the skatepark, and smiled. "I do some of both."

That was true enough. Although Jason had been into cameras long before he'd discovered boards, it seemed his days now were consumed by both pastimes. The one went very well with the other, and his passion for photography had been stoked by the sights and sounds of the skatepark, the action of which could be both amazing to watch and a challenge to catch with the lens.

Mantanza was a flow park, a combination of bowl park and street plaza. It was mostly concrete, a well-sculpted mix of bowls, ramps, stairs, railings, and benches, laid out to keep a skater moving and require a minimum of push. The drabness of the concrete was offset by the colorful garb of the skaters that used the place, and a rather wonderful contrast existed between the base tones of the backgrounds and the often vivid colors worn by the participants. It made for some striking photography.

Jason casually eyeballed his company. This older guy was a Regulator, an unofficial monitor, part of a group of adult skaters that donated some of their free time to help keep the park safe for others. Jason had decided long ago that it was a labor of love for this group, who found mentoring the mostly younger users of the place almost as fun and challenging as running the courses themselves. But they were a volunteer group, and had no real authority to tell anyone what to do. Suggestions were welcome, but Jason didn't feel bound by any of them. There were a few of these Regulators that could be bossy, and had to be reminded now and then that they were just skaters here in the park like everyone else.

Jason had never seen this one before. This Regulator's dark hair was curly and a little wild looking, and he was wearing a brown t-shirt that said 'Pop Shuvit' on the front in big red letters. He had a mustache, and a soul patch beneath, and his tanned face was stretched by a perpetual grin that made the skin crinkle warmly around his eyes. His jeans were rubbed hard in spots with road rash, a status symbol of sorts around here, but which he was wearing like it didn't matter. Road rash at least demonstrated that you were doing and not posing; but then, most everybody here was doing something. For the older skaters, it was simply a badge of experience.

"That's cool." The man's knees bent and his arms went out as he struck a ludicrous pose. "Maybe you can catch me grabbing some air sometime." His grin widened perceptibly. "I'm Anthony, by the way."

Jason nodded. "Cool. I see you birding, I'll try to get it."

"Great." Anthony waved a hand around at the concrete runs, and then patted his chest. "I'm new here, and I just didn't know you, is all. Wondered about the shopping cart." He laughed. "Don't let it roll off the deck. You might cause a crash."

"I'll be careful."

The man nodded, and turned to go. "Nice to meet you, Goofy-foot. Have fun!"

Jason grinned after the man as he strode away.

Well, that wasn't so bad. Jason had been a little worried when the man had called for him to wait. Most of the Regulators were good dudes, but he'd seen a couple of them go off on bystanders who got in the way watching. Every sport drew an audience, but some people just didn't understand about staying in the stands. But this guy had just been curious about Jason and the cart, and wanted to make sure he understood to be safe with it on the course. Jason smiled at that. He had no intention of being a jaywalker in the road here.

He let his eyes roam slowly about the bowls and ramps. It was a pretty summer Saturday afternoon, and the skatepark was pulsing with energy. Skaters of every description and every level of experience were wheeling about in a rush for speed, offering up a mixture of collected grace and control with less able stiffness and arm-waving. Yet despite the turnout, the park was hardly full, and people seemed to be watching out for others. No one was on the ground at the moment, and there had been no serious crashes since he'd been there.

Once again Jason was amazed at the things the human body could learn to do, and do well. That people could actually balance on a small, narrow length of deck running on tiny polyurethane wheels, while it raced up and down concrete curves, over ramps, and ground along railings and benches, was simply amazing. It was exciting to watch, and really fun to photograph.

Especially when cute guys were doing it. That was just one perk of photographing skaters: it gave a guy a nice collection of pretty faces. He had come to know the regulars here, and they him. Most guys liked to have their pictures taken while skating. It made them proud, in a way, and Jason always printed copies for them at no charge. It was a great way for both sides to build a nice collection of pictures to admire.

There were a lot of regulars here today. Zulu was off to one side, almost lazily arcing back and forth on the large half-pipe, his face covered with a grin. Two other regulars, Tip and Rocket, were standing atop their boards nearby, watching him and grinning. Rocket's eyes dropped every now and then to the watch on his wrist, as if timing how long Zulu could maintain his apparently lazy roll.

It was harder than it looked, and Jason knew that for a fact. He'd bailed more than once on the half-pipe, his momentum falling off at just the wrong moment to reach the safety of the upper deck. Some skaters seemed to just know how to judge their momentum perfectly, and when to add to it to ensure the next climb made it to the top. Jason still had occasional trouble reading the signals his motion was sending to him. He was a lot better now than when he'd first started skating, but had no illusions at all that he'd ever be among the best.

There was good, and there was best, but even the elite crowd messed up. Skating was something you got better at the longer you did it; but nature had not provided humans with wheels, and mixing people with boards was always a marriage that carried some risk. Even the top skaters misjudged and planted their butts or their faces every now and then, and while Jason hated to see anyone get hurt, it was heartening for those lower on the totem pole to know that even the gods of the game were fallible.

Jason had been skating for a couple of years, and considered himself average good. He had stopped wearing knee pads all the time now, opting instead for work jeans with reinforced knees. He didn't wear a helmet so much anymore, either, despite the warnings from his mother that one good slam of his head into the concrete could turn his brain into a marshmallow. Those confrontations had slacked off some now that Jason had been skating in just his ball cap for some months without a concussion or a fractured skull; but that his mom still worried about him was more than a little bit clear.

His dad usually stood by quietly during these occasional instructional mother-son arguments until they were over, and then would pat Jason on the shoulder and grin good-naturedly. "We'll still love you even if you become a brainless marshmallow, Jason. You just have fun, you hear?"

Oddly enough, it was his dad's kidding that'd had more effect than his mom's worried dialogs. A guy expected his mom to worry about stuff he did, and to give him a hard time about the things she thought were dangerous. But the way his dad talked, like it was just something that was inevitably going to happen, was some serious food for thought. No one wanted their brain to be a marshmallow, right?

Jason had considered it all, and then gone back to wearing a helmet whenever he was doing anything more risky than just meandering around on his board. He had developed a lot of respect for gravity and the unforgiving hardness of concrete, and come to understand that his own body had limitations of agility and balance that just might not be on a par with that of some other skaters. Not everyone was gifted with the same physical talents. Some of these guys did stunts on their boards that just seemed stupid crazy to Jason, and he had decided early on that he was not skating to compete or to be the best, but because it was fun and it brought him together with friends that wanted to have fun, too.

But that didn't stop him from admiring the daredevils like Zulu or Captain Fakie, who got so stoked that they went all out at everything they did. Jason had gotten some shots of those guys in action that had seriously raised his own status around here as a picture taker able to capture movement. Most of the guys here enjoyed being the focus of his lens, and Jason had become proud of his ability to catch people in some truly awesome moments.

And proud of his collection of faces, too. There were some amazingly cute guys in the world, and Jason loved to capture their faces. His collection ranged from intense moments of fierce concentration to relaxed interludes full of smiles and beautiful laughter. Average moments, amazing moments, moments that could never be duplicated again. And every shade of emotion, from delight and excitement to fear and stunned surprise. Racing about the world like a daredevil on wheels brought out things in the human face that the normal moments of life just couldn't provide. Jason had covered the walls of his bedroom with faces, most still attached to the action shots that were really the reason for the photos to begin with. His mother and father often admired his work, his dad especially in awe of some of the crazy stuff skaters did on their boards. No one ever suspected that it was the faces that Jason loved the most: beautiful, animated, and oh so personal. Close enough to kiss, if he had a mind to do such a thing.

And sometimes he did. He often felt the need to touch someone, and be touched in return. Sometimes it was hard being alone.

But as long as he had other things to compensate for the loneliness he carried within himself, he was able to stay reasonably happy with each day. So far, he had been okay with just looking. But that it was going to get old someday was a fact of which he had already become aware.

Jason was friendly with the few gay guys that skated here at the park, and had even captured a few rare moments with them. They were all older than he was by three or four years, and they had boyfriends, and they sometimes let that show when one of them did something particularly spectacular on his board, and the reward was a hug and a kiss from another. Jason was envious of those moments, and the few he had captured with his camera had gone into a special scrapbook that he kept under his bed. Every now and then, when he was feeling especially alone, he would get out that scrap book, look at the photos, and smile.

Someday, that will be me.

Someone whizzed by fairly close, snapping him out of his mental wanderings. He turned to look, and caught Kat smiling over her shoulder at him. He waved, and as her gaze snapped back to where she was going she tossed a hand up and waggled her fingers at him, causing him to grin. A moment later she dipped into a bowl and curved off to the left, and was gone.

Kat was a little bit crazy. And funny, and kind of sweet. He liked her, and had more than once wished she was a guy.

Jason pushed the shopping cart over to a light pole, then took the cable bike lock from under his board and used it to secure the cart to the pole. A loose shopping cart was almost as attractive to 'borrowers' as was a loose bicycle. The fact that Jason had 'borrowed' the cart himself from the parking lot of the local Food 4 Less didn't mean he would stand by and let it suffer a similar fate with another concrete pirate.

He grabbed his board and his camera, looped the strap of the Nikon about his neck, and looked both ways before crossing the course to a good spot to watch the action. From here he could see the run of the bowls, if not down into the big one, as well as across the near end of the street plaza course. And still see Zulu patiently arcing up and down on the half-pipe. Jason grinned. So much action, so many places to look.

So many faces.

Kat came up behind him again and whizzed past, and called out something in passing, but Jason didn't catch what she said. Probably that she'd stop and talk when it came time to take a break. She was obviously taking the short route around the bowls and back, and not going after the whole course.

He smiled. They'd become friends, and he had taken his share of shots of her in action, too. She was good on a board, better than he was, and the pictures of her he'd mixed liberally among the others on his bedroom wall demonstrated that he was not only interested in photographing guys.

Two more people shot past him, and then he heard the sound of wheels again, but somehow deeper and more grating this time. Again someone went by him from behind, but going slower than Kat had been. Jason laughed as the giant figure hooted and flipped him the bird in passing, and then laughed again as Truck waved his arms a moment in alarm to hold onto his balance. For a second the large boy teetered in a near wobble...and then regained his stability just in time to dip into the bowl ahead.

There was just no way someone the size of Truck Leoni should be on a board. The boy was sixteen like Jason, but was plainly a case of over-development. Truck was six-foot four and two hundred-twenty pounds, and even with the heavy duty board he'd gotten for himself it often looked like it was sagging in the middle. Truck was neither graceful nor agile for his size, and only a fierce act of will had kept him learning to skate when everyone else said he was destined to fail. Truck had a tendency to wild displays of arm waving as he fought for balance, and several people had smilingly told Jason they'd seen a bird or two knocked out of the sky in passing. But that Truck was a skater there was no doubt. He loved the sport just as much as anyone else, and his determination to roll when nature had obviously made plans for him to walk had earned the respect of every skater at Mantanza.

More motion caught Jason's eye as someone waved from the near end of the plaza course. A lean figure in matching blue shorts and tank top became airborne and ground along a bench to drop back to the concrete at the other end, then carved a long arc across the intervening course that ended in a slide-stop nearby. The newcomer popped his board into the air, caught it by the end with a hand, and started across the concrete towards Jason, waving with the other hand.

"Goof! What's up?"

Jason sighed. Being called goof was a much less flattering shortening of his nick, but Jason knew that Snark actually used it in a friendly way with him. The other boy was an expert at being not-so-polite when the situation called for it, but his openness with Jason had eventually won him over. Snark was good on a board, and Jason had more than a few great shots of the other boy making like a legend. One day, Snark could even be great, if life didn't get hold of him first and take him off his wheels.

"Hey, Snark. Just lookin' around right now. Where's the action?"

The other boy came closer and grinned, and Jason sighed inwardly at that. Snark, whose name was Damian Stone in the world, had one gorgeous smile. Beautiful, in fact.

The other boy had been wearing a ball cap reversed on his head, but now he pulled it off and turned it bill-forward to shade his eyes from the sun. "Everywhere. Nowhere. I don't know. I was watchin' out for me, not everyone else." He laughed. "But Truck's here, someplace. He's about as easy to miss as that iceberg going past that ship in that old Leo DiCaprio movie. Um..."

"Titanic," Jason supplied, grinning and shaking his head.

"Whatever. He's here. Saw Kat, too, though she just flashed her claws at me. Haven't talked to her yet." Snark waved a hand around as if to take in the entire park. "Lotta regulars here. Some strange faces, too." He shrugged. "Pretty normal Saturday, really." He pointed at the Nikon strapped around Jason's neck. "Want me to pose for you?"

Without waiting for an answer, Snark dropped his board, stepped on the back and popped the nose, and spun it around in a circle, his left foot controlling the elevation. The board did a complete three-sixty and stopped, and Snark extended his arms and grinned. "Ta da!"

Jason was unimpressed. "Even I can do that."

Snark just waggled his fingertips, his grin widening. Jason sighed, lifted the Nikon, and took a quick pic of the other boy. The smile alone made it worth the effort.

"There you go. It's nice to be noticed." Snark popped the board and caught it again, then came closer. "Kat's coming up behind you."

Jason turned, then danced out of the way as the girl slid to a halt mere inches from where he'd been standing.

"I wasn't going to hit you," she said immediately. She shook her head admonishingly, her short, dark hair flipping about about beneath the rim of her helmet. "Give me some credit."

"Can't blame a guy for being careful," Snark called, flashing his grin again. "Even a girl piling into you could hurt."

"You just startled me," Jason said slowly.

Kat flashed a smile at Jason, and then grimaced at Snark. "I've never piled into anybody, thank you."

Snark was unabashed. "Shit happens."

Jason stepped back between them. "So where's the action, Kat?"

The girl pulled off her helmet and ran a hand through her hair. "Most of the crew are here today. There's some newbies I don't know, too." She nodded to herself. "They look pretty good."

Jason perked up at that. "Yeah? Where are they?"

The girl sighed, and gave him a small, hopeful smile. "You could always take some pictures of me, first."

"Yes, I could. To add to the hundred other ones I already have." Jason smiled sweetly at her. "You're here every day, Kat. You know I like new blood, especially if they're just visiting. Where are they?"

One of Kat's eyebrows climbed skyward, and she looked over at Snark. "I see where I stand."

"Hell, I could've told you that," Snark returned. "Goof wants new shots, not the same old stuff."

Kat glared at the idea of being called the same old stuff, but nodded. "Last time I saw them, they were down at the far end of the plaza, running the low rails."

Jason patted the Nikon at his chest, and turned in the indicated direction. "Then that's where I'm heading."

"I'll go with you," Snark decided, dropping his board and putting one foot on the deck. "If Kat says these guy's are good, I want to see."

Kat blinked at that, and then squinted at Snark, who just smiled.

Jason looked both ways, popped his board and grabbed it, and started across the concrete. There were walkways in between the elements of the course, and a narrow footbridge across the largest bowl, giving access to the far end of the course without actually having to walk in the busy areas. You still needed to look before crossing the flat parts of the course, but usually a skater approaching was pretty hard to miss.

"You're welcome!" Kat called, sounding a little disgusted. Jason glanced back as she put her helmet on; and then in a moment she was past them and dropping into the bowl again. He sighed. He hadn't meant to snub her, but sometimes her insistence that he pay attention to her was a little annoying.

Snark rolled along next to Jason as he walked. "She likes you, dude," the other boy said.

"I like her, too." Jason knew what Snark meant, but didn't really want to have a conversation about it. Kat's interest was hardly new, and Jason had gotten used to the little word games the girl played with him about it.

"Gonna give her a shot?"

"I haven't really thought about it," Jason returned, vaguely.

"You should. You could do a lot worse."

Jason looked over at the other boy, surprised at his admittance that Kat was anything but annoying. Snark had been giving her a hard time from day one, though it was always with a smile, which Jason, at least, knew meant that Snark was actually being friendly. But Kat was often irritated by the gentle barbs, and the two traded mildly caustic quips these days as readily as two boxers traded blows.

But to hear Snark actually complimenting Kat...

He stared at the other boy anew, and suddenly grinned. "You like her."

Snark frowned. "Sure. She's okay."

Jason shook his head. "No. I mean, you like her."

Snark curled a lip at him. "Yeah, right." But for a moment the other boy's defenses dropped, and Jason caught the barest glimpse of something that was going on inside. Something vulnerable. His urge to kid Snark further immediately died, and Jason just shrugged. "I don't want a girlfriend right now. I like my freedom."

Snark nodded, but dropped his eyes to the ground. "Yeah. Me, too."

They crossed the course and wound their way along one of the narrow pathways while people zipped by on either side of them, and then crossed the bridge over the big bowl in the center of the park, and could then see the other end. Sure enough, among the people there was a group of four guys running one of the low rails in a line, one after the other, and even from where they were Jason could note the smoothness and timing of the group action.

"This might be interesting," he decided aloud, smiling and briefly shading his eyes with one hand. He pulled up the Nikon on its strap and checked its readiness. It was hard to tell how big these guys were from so far off yet, but they certainly looked like they could be in his own age group. New faces!

"Wonder why they're here?"

"Something different," Snark suggested, pushing himself into a roll as Jason started forward again. "You get tired of the same old shit."

Jason laughed at that. "You don't. I don't, either. A rail's a rail, man. There's long ones and short ones and low ones and high ones."

"And fat ones and thin ones," Snark added quickly, smiling.

Jason grinned at the joke. "Uh huh. But it's not like you're gonna find that much variation, you know?"

"Yeah. But...you know how it is. Sometimes you need a change of scenery."

"Maybe." Jason surveyed the park with no small degree of satisfaction. Mantanza was one of the best skateparks in the city, hard to beat for having so many different experiences all in one place. "Maybe this is an upgrade from where they've been skating."

Snark shrugged. "We could always ask them."

The new group was working on a low rail just now, circling it at speed. One would approach the end of the rail, launch an ollie to become airborne, grind the trucks of his board along the rail, and come off the other end and hit the concrete again. He would then push off to regain some speed, and circle around towards the back of the line even as the next guy was coming onto the rail. They had spaced themselves well and were keeping up a continuous circular motion, which looked pretty impressive when viewed from afar.

An ollie was a basic move, a way to get the board airborne. A lot of tricks depended on knowing how to do this one, and Jason had struggled with learning it himself. That was how he had met Snark in the first place. The other boy had seen Jason trying to catch some air, and had stopped to watch.

"You're standing on the rear of the board," he'd finally said. "You need to pop it, not stop it. You'll never get air that way."

And then he had showed Jason how to do the little leap that started it all, and to use his rear foot by swiveling the ankle downward to pop the rear of the board instead of standing on it. At the same time, you had to drag the front foot forward to control the rise of the nose and level the board out beneath your feet as you got air. After just a few minutes of tutoring, Jason had managed his first true ollie. It was funny how friendships could be born from the littlest of things.

Jason had been amazed at how easy the move was once he was shown how to do it properly, and with plenty of practice it had become second nature to him. That's what this new group seemed to be doing now, reinforcing body learning by repetition. The more you did any move, the more natural it started to feel to you. Motion for a skater had to be learned, and a lot of what guys did here at the park were just exercises to improve their feel for what they already could do.

"That's a smooth move, with four of them doing that," Jason decided. He set his board down and put a foot on it, then lifted the camera, zoomed in a little, and took a series of pictures of the new guys as they ground down the length of the pipe. Then he triggered the full-motion capture of his camera, and recorded two complete rotations of the distant circle of skaters. He'd put a new memory card in the camera before leaving that house that day, and had plenty of available storage.

"I wanna get closer," he said then, lowering the camera. "Maybe we can talk them into doing something else."

"Get 'em to show off a little, huh?" Snark laughed. "You got that camera shit bad, Goof."

Jason smiled at that, but just nodded and pushed off, moving his board forward. He heard Snark sigh, and then the sound of his board as he followed along. They crossed to another walk, and soon stood across the main course lane from the group running the rail. There was a bench there, and Jason climbed atop it so that he had a good view over the heads of the skaters passing by.

Yeah, these newbies were guys Jason's age. Or close enough that it didn't matter. He watched the faces as they went buy, and didn't recognize a single one. But --

One face turned to look at him as the boy ground down the length of the rail, and white teeth flashed briefly in the sun. Jason took an involuntary breath of surprise at the force with which that face registered with his eyes. Wow.

He couldn't tell if it was a smile or a grimace. But the moment seemed to hang in the air before Jason, as if his own eyes had taken a snapshot. The guy had sun-golden skin, straight black hair that spilled from beneath a red ball cap turned backwards, and wore small, rectangular mirror lenses over his eyes. For just a second longer, the white teeth flashed in the afternoon sun...and then the guy was past them. But the image of his slender frame drawn down in a slight crouch, and his tanned arms held almost casually and motionlessly at his sides, conveyed a grace and control that could not be missed. The guy had exuded a calm poise as he balanced effortlessly on the rail, in marked contrast to the skater that followed him, his arms in gentle motion as he corrected the slight changes in his balance.

Jason's eyes followed the skater who had smiled or grimaced, watched as he circled around and closed on the last guy in line just as that one ollied onto the rail. Automatically, Jason lifted the camera and pointed the lens at the graceful boy, and held down the shutter button to take a continuous series of pictures even as the guy caught his own ollie and once again glided down the rail as if moving on a sheet of glass.

"Pretty good," Snark said beside him. "That one guy's got balance out the ass. Great moves."

Jason nodded, trying to hold the camera steady. The skater came off the end of the rail, but this time, instead of carving around behind the rail and staying in line, he flashed a look both ways on the course, and then made a sharp turn in their direction, crossed the course way, and arrived on their side in hardly a moment. Jason was stunned by the speed of the move, and only released the shutter button and dropped the camera down as the newcomer ground to a stop five feet away from them.

The boy whipped off his mirrored lenses and stared at them. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He sounded annoyed, and Jason blinked at him. "Huh?"

"I asked you what you were doing."

But Jason's eyes had been captured, and he was too busy looking to answer. Up close, the other guy was even more stunning, more captivating to look at. With his glasses off, his large brown eyes were sharp and clear, and full of a lively intelligence. His hair where it stuck out from beneath his cap was damp with sweat, and tiny wet tracks were visible on his suntanned cheeks. Jason was suddenly aware of the nearness of the other, and of the lithe energy that filled the body beneath the white tank top and green shorts.

In that moment Jason's brain froze, and he didn't know what to say. "Uh--"

Snark, still down on the pavement next to Jason, made an amused sound at the sudden silence, and then reached over and patted Jason's thigh. "We're just watching. You guys look pretty good."

The other boy's eyes narrowed, and he pointed at Jason. "Doesn't he talk?"

Jason felt stupid then. He took a deep breath, and stepped down from the bench. "I can talk."

A look of irritation crossed the skater's face, and his gaze returned to tag Jason's. "What are you doing?"

"Taking pictures."

The other shook his head. "Not of me. I don't like it. You need to stop right now."

"It's a public place," Snark said then, suddenly sounding less friendly. "Goof is our official picture taker here. Get over it."

Jason licked his lips then, and nodded slowly. He had never had anyone object to having their picture taken, and he had gotten used to the idea that no one ever would. But on some level, he felt it was a person's right to not have that done if they didn't want it done. That he might be in the wrong here was a new idea for him.

"I'm sorry. I won't take any more."

"Damn right, you won't," the graceful boy returned, an eyebrow shooting upwards to accent his demand.

Snark gave out an amazed laugh. "Hey, screw that," he said then, letting out his wild side. He gave Jason's shoulder a slight push. "You belong here, and these dudes are just visiting. They don't like it, they can leave." He leaned forward then and stuck out his jaw. "This is our park, dude. And our rules."

The other three visiting skaters had seen that something was happening, and now they crossed the course and came to a stop beside their friend.

"Everything cool, Ray?" one asked.

Jason's eyes circled the group. All the boys had black hair and golden skin, just like the guy standing before them. But their appeal wasn't even in the same league. They were just guys. Nice to look at, but the world was full of nice guys just to look at.

This Ray was somehow special. Jason watched the other boy's face, enthralled at how it moved along with the thoughts and words coming from behind it. Beautiful.

Ray had turned his gaze back to Snark. "I wasn't talking to you."

"It sounded like a general threat," Snark tossed back. "So I'm in, if that's what you want."

Jason immediately held up a hand. "Stop!"

Everyone's eyes came to him. "This is stupid," Jason continued, turning to Snark. "I won't take any more pictures of these guys, okay?"

Snark actually looked angry now. Jason had seen the boy's temper before, but it usually came across in a milder form. Not this time. Snark stepped off his board and popped it up, and grabbed it in both hands as if he meant to brain someone with it. "These guys have no right to tell us what to do."

Jason's jaw dropped. "What's the matter with you? He just doesn't want his picture taken."

"That's not the point. He could have just asked you not to do it. Instead he rolled over here and tried to lean on us. I say fuck that shit."

Jason stared at his friend.

"What?" Snark asked, glaring back. "Nobody's coming in here from some other neighborhood and ordering us around!"

Jason opened his mouth to say something...to say anything. People were sailing by on their boards, some turning their heads to look at the confrontation, but most oblivious to it, their focus on the course ahead. Again there was the feeling that time slowed. Jason examined the face of the guy before him, just beautiful, even limned as it was now with anger. There was an energy there that suggested some force deep and hidden, but powerful beyond all meaning. Something that appealed to Jason like nothing he had quite seen before.

He was aware of a sudden tensing of the group of boys before him, and then the sound of approaching wheels registered in his ears. Truck Leoni appeared, and dragged a large shoe on the concrete to kill his motion. For once his timing was perfect. The board stopped and the big boy stepped off it in one fluid motion, and stood beside Snark, his meaty hands on his hips. "Trouble? I could see you guys waving your arms at each other from across the park."

The four visitors had taken a single group step back as Truck had come off his board, and now they watched him uncertainly, plainly in some awe at his size. Truck was used to being a foot taller than everyone else, and just smiled.

"We don't want no trouble," one of the other visitors said quietly. "We're just here to skate. Ray? Come on, man."

Ray's eyes went from Snark to Jason to Truck, plainly showing he didn't like what he was seeing. Jason felt a peculiar disappointment at that appraisal, almost as if the other had cursed him, or even hit him. It was painful somehow, and he felt a sudden urge to apologize to the other boy.

But Ray beat him to speaking. "Yeah, maybe." He glared at Snark again. "Like you said, it's a public park." Then he turned to look at his friends. "Come on, guys. Let's get back."

Jason felt himself dismissed, as if Ray's interest in talking to him had been turned off with a switch. The four visitors crossed the course again, and rolled down to the farthest rail from where Jason and his friends were standing, and then formed up and went back to their timed group run.

"What was that about?" Truck asked. "You okay, Goof?"

Jason turned to look at Snark. "You almost started a fight with them."

Snark's eyes got big. "Me! It was that guy there that tried to lean on you. On us. I was just helping."

Helping.

Jason briefly closed his eyes. Inside, the disappointment seemed to be growing. He let his eyelids rise, and stared over at where Ray and the others had gone back to practice. They had resumed their circular motion, taking the rail one by one. Jason watched a moment, and could see the four casting them wary glances as they moved along.

Truck reached across Snark and gave Jason a small pat on the back. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm okay." But his interest in shooting pictures had wandered away. "Think I'll head home."

Snark looked pained. "You just got here."

"Yeah. But I just don't feel like taking more pictures."

The other boy made an upset sound. "Look, I'm sorry I went off. But that guy had no business bossing you...bossing us around."

Jason simply looked at him. "He just didn't want his picture taken."

Snark nodded vigorously. "Then he could have said so without being an asshole about it."

Jason just nodded, having gotten a completely different take on what had happened than Snark obviously had. Ray had been standing up for his right not to have his picture taken. Maybe some people didn't like having a camera pointed at them. The idea was new to Jason, but he could immediately understand it. If what your body - your face - looked like, so individual and personal, didn't belong to you, what did?

At this point, he was not sure who had been wrong here. Himself, for taking pictures without asking, or Ray, for getting upset about it.

"I think I'll just go," Jason said. He reached out and laid a hand on Snark's shoulder. "It's okay, man. I know you were just looking out for me."

"I was." Snark nodded, looking upset. "Um...maybe I got a little carried away."

Jason was able to smile at that. "You weren't really gonna bust your board against that guy's head, were you?"

Snark looked down at the way he was still holding his board, and laughed. He turned it, and held it against his thigh with one hand. "Nah. I like this one."

Truck, who had been watching quietly, obviously without a clue as to what had actually happened, suddenly smiled at them. "I see my work here is done. Whatever the hell it was." He turned, deftly pulled his board forward with one foot, stepped onto it and pushed off onto the course. And immediately swayed precariously, fanned his arms alarmingly, and took off.

Snark laughed. "Nobody's better at mixing air than Truck." His eyes returned to Jason, and Jason was able to see the liking that Snark had for him there. "Sorry, Goof."

"It's okay." Jason looked around, and nodded. "I'll probably be back later. I just need to think about a few things.'

Snark nodded, but looked afraid to ask what things were on Jason's mind. "I'll walk back to the cart with you, if that's okay."

Jason laughed. "It is."

Jason retrieved his board and they headed back to where Jason had left the cart, going by the same paths through the middle of the course. When they crossed the foot bridge spanning the large bowl, Jason paused and looked down into the concrete form, watching the skaters whiz by with the same interest a bird on a branch might view a watching cat below. Motion.

It was fascinating to see. Amazing, even, given that nature had not engineered people to do the things they were doing now. He gave a little sigh, and smiled.

"What's funny?" Snark asked, smiling himself.

Jason shrugged. "I love to see people on the move like this. I love getting that with my camera."

Snark seemed instantly to understand. "Then you should." He nodded. "Don't let this throw you, Goof. The people here love having you do what you do. Everybody's walls are covered with your stuff." He smiled. "You're an institution, man."

Jason scratched the back of his head, but couldn't help feeling good at the compliment. Snark was right. He couldn't let one bad moment mess up the joy he got from his camera. He knew that the people he photographed here enjoyed the experience. That could continue. But...maybe he'd be more careful about taking the pictures of people he didn't know. Not without asking first, anyway.

"So you'll be back later?" Snark asked.

"Yeah. I think I'll drop my camera off and just come back and skate a little. I could use the break."

"Cool." Snark waved a hand around them. "I'll be here. It's Saturday, you know?" But then he looked at Jason pointedly, bit at his lip briefly, and frowned. "I'm sorry."

Jason nodded, patted Snark's arm, and moved off. He reclaimed his cart, put his board in the basket and his Nikon on the toddler seat, and pushed the cart back to the entry to the park.

"Goofy-foot!"

Jason turned, trying to place the familiar voice. "Uh...hi, Anthony."

"You're not leaving already, are you?" This time the Regulator was on a board. He glided over effortlessly, and stopped the board with one foot. "That was a short visit."

Jason nodded. "I'll be back. I just have a few things to do."

The man posed again, grinning. "Still waiting for that picture."

Jason laughed, and stepped away from the cart, grabbing his camera. Anthony looked surprised; but then he hunched forward on his board, put on an expression of almost comical terror, and held his hands up like he was about to be smeared by a semi in the middle of the freeway. Jason took three shots, laughing, and promised to print the best one and bring it back with him.

The man looked happy with himself, and waved as he rolled off.

The afternoon was still pretty, despite the upset from earlier. Jason couldn't quite get Ray's face out of his mind, wondering how nice it might look smiling instead of pissed off. The brief argument had left an impression on him all out of proportion to what had happened. This should be something he could just chalk up to experience and shrug off. But it didn't seem to be happening.

He pushed the shopping cart along the sidewalk, almost oblivious to where he was going. There were people everywhere, but no one was paying him any mind. A shopping cart on the streets these days was hardly an unusual sight. He wasn't paying them any mind, either, his thoughts still replaying the incident at the skate park, over and over.

It hadn't been his fault. He had meant no harm. He was just taking pictures in a public place, something he had been doing all summer long. Catching the action, recording the moves. Where was the harm in that?

Yet...a small feeling of guilt assailed him now. He had been after Ray's face, not just the action. The boy was just too beautiful for Jason to ignore. Taking his picture had seemed so necessary.

But the anger in the boy he had photographed could not be ignored. It had been startling, and unexpected. And unpleasant. The moment had lasted...what? A couple of minutes? Why did it feel so large in his mind, then?

It somehow made Jason feel anxious, and he was aware he had missed an opportunity to apologize and make amends. Missed an opportunity to maybe get to know Ray a little better. To be around him, to be with him...

To be with him.

The thought was a shock. Jason shook his head, feeling a need to clear it. He stopped the cart and looked around. He was on Tampico Street, in the shopping district. This was just one way he could have taken to get home, and he hadn't even realized he'd turned down the busy roadway lined with stores on each side. Next to the sidewalk was a boardwalk laid into the concrete, that was supposed to give the place a feeling of being close to the ocean, even though that was miles away. The street had an ocean motif, and many of the stores and shops sold apparel and items one could use at the beach, or just were summery in general.

Ahead was the All-In-One, which sold lots of things. Planted on the boardwalk out front were several items of furniture, along with a large sign that advertised a sale on patio and deck items, as well as summer clothing. Jason pushed the cart along slowly, quieting his thoughts as much as he could. The feeling of displacement that had settled over him was a little alarming. It was almost as if he were walking in a dream, and that the world around him was not real. That he would wake up any second, and all of it would be gone.

But it wasn't that way at all. What he was thinking and feeling was real. Somehow, just standing close to this guy Ray, seeing his face, hearing his voice, had left a strange grip on him that refused to go away. Jason had never experienced anything like it before.

He arrived at the furniture. One item was a futon couch, with individual backrests that could be adjusted for each sitter. A sign at one end advertised the sale price, and said in large black letters, "Try me!"

Jason pushed the cart to the other end of the couch and parked it, and bent down and pushed a hand down on the cushion. It was soft and inviting. He took off his ball cap, shaded his eyes with one hand and looked up into the blue sky. Such a pretty day to feel so out of sorts.

He turned and lowered himself onto the cushion, and leaned back on his arms, closed his eyes, and momentarily tilted his face up towards the sun. It was warm, comfortable, reassuring. Real.

He tilted his face forward to shade it again, and opened his eyes.

What had happened to him, back there at the skate park? How could a couple of minutes arguing with someone he'd never laid eyes upon before today leave him feeling so...so weird? And why had it left him feeling so sad, as if he'd lost something important?

Again he saw Ray's face inside his head. There was something striking about it, something he just couldn't name. It made him want to lean closer, and to...to...

Jason took a breath, and closed his eyes, imagining kissing that face. A tingle ran throughout his body, and a familiar sensation stirred between his legs. And then, quite suddenly, he knew exactly what was wrong with him, just what it was that he was feeling.

I got the hots for this guy!

He laughed, and shook his head. Shit! How did that happen, in just two minute's time?

But the more he thought about it, the more he realized it was true. Now he realized he had checked out Ray pretty closely, even going as far as to imagine what might be beneath his clothing. That he had done that so quickly without really understanding what he was doing was the big surprise. He was always imagining what one or another of the guys he photographed might have under his clothes, but it was like a game he played with himself. He'd imagined Snark naked more than once, and been thrilled with the results. He'd developed a crush on Snark after first meeting him, until he'd realized nothing could come of it. And Zulu, and Tip - even Captain Fakie, who had a kind of round, pudgy face that didn't really appeal to him, but who also had a killer smile and bright blue eyes that always seemed to be laughing.

Jason loved guys, and was always looking. Always dreaming. His picture collection made him happy, and he often used them for the occasional fantasy to make his wank sessions more interesting. His pictures gave him a life he could not live for real, and he loved each one of those beautiful faces. He'd had crushes on a lot of them, momentary dreams of something more than just a photograph. But in the end, reality had prevailed. He liked these guys. They were people he knew, guys he found appealing and sexy, and guys he'd become friendly with in the last several years.

But none of them belonged to him, none of these guys were his.

This thing with Ray, was this something different? All his previous crushes had developed slowly and ended quickly. This was the first time where some part of his brain had immediately looked at someone he didn't even know as if that person was a potential...a potential...lover. Someone to be close to. Someone more than a picture on the wall.

The thought was scary, actually. And it was confusing as hell. He didn't even know this guy Ray. How could he feel the way he did about him?

What he needed was to see Ray again. He had to know if this was some real feeling he had, or just more confusing shit that his nuts occasionally tossed his way. He knew his nuts played games with him, often demanding attention like something important was up, but then just laying down and relaxing again once he'd jerked his dick. Nuts were unreliable indicators of attraction because they responded to most cute guys in some way or another. Brains were better indicators of how much he liked someone, but up until now he'd never gotten any signals like these.

"Crap," he whispered. This was just what he needed to happen now! And the summer had been going so nicely!

How the hell was he supposed to see Ray again, when he didn't even know him? Didn't know where he had come from, or where he lived? It was impossible!

And then he had a thought, and turned to look at the Nikon where it sat in the toddler seat of the shopping cart. He'd taken pictures! Lots of pictures, of the four visitors doing their organized exercises on the low rail. He'd zoomed in, and even gotten some close ones.

He had pictures of Ray.

Jason jumped to his feet, donned his ball cap again, and then grabbed the handlebar of the shopping cart and turned it back to the sidewalk. And then he was off, weaving in and out of the clumps of people on the sidewalk, who smiled at the boy with the big grin on his face, and wondered what it was that had him looking so enchanted.