Nine Patch Technical
In 1960s California, a teenage girl attempts a dangerous maneuver after challenging a skateboarding champion.
I originally published this piece when I first started writing on Substack in October 2023. I wanted to give this little historical flash fiction another go-round, since I’ve had many lovely new subscribers arrive since its initial publication!
Please enjoy “Nine Patch Technical”
Evil travels in straight lines. The echo of Grandmama’s voice replays in my ears, and behind my closed eyelids I see her fingers, moving like silent spiders over the long strips of fabric. That’s why we break the pattern, to slow the evil spirits down. That’s what my mama told me and her mama told her, back to our grandmamas hundreds of years ago.
Break the pattern – that’s my favorite of Grandmama’s quilting lessons.
When I open my eyes, the world in front of me is a straight line – a flat, open slab of concrete. No broken patterns. No patterns at all, only an empty space. Not so much a skate park as an abandoned parking lot.
Past the flat expanse of cement, a steep road leads to a path that skirts the ocean cliffs, which are separated from the path only by a flimsy wire fence.
I look over my shoulder at the cluster of faces watching me. Sadie in her bright green jumper stands next to our picnic blanket, one of Grandmama’s quilts. A fly buzzes around my forgotten peanut butter and jelly sandwich. We had come to the skate park because Sadie wanted to moon over Tommy Regis. But she wasn’t looking at Tommy now. Instead, there was a worried wrinkle between her eyebrows as she watched me.
Who’re you laughing at? You think you can do better? Tommy’s voice had held a harsh note of insecurity. This was about more than me laughing at a botched wheelie.
Probably, I’d said.
Of all the people to antagonize, I had picked Tommy Regis, runner-up at the 1964 Regional Skateboarding Championship, and the object of my best friend’s blind adoration. What was I thinking?
One foot on the deck of my board, I roll it back and forth, running through tricks in my mind.
“Don’t snap your board, Thunder Thighs,” Tommy whispers loudly enough for his friends to hear.
I see Sadie’s eyes fly open in surprise.
I force down the flush that threatens to overtake my face. Remembered insults fly at me – a tsk from Sadie’s mother when I went back for a second slice of pizza, my own mother’s dismay at the snugness of my jeans.
I need to fill this empty slab of concrete with something spectacular, a freestyle routine that will wipe the smug, nasty smirk from Tommy Regis’ face.
Break the pattern.
I push myself into motion and bring my back foot up onto the deck.
Walk-the-board – One foot on each end of the board, I pivot my weight back and forth, moving forward.
Nose-wheelie – I place both feet at the front of the board and pop the back wheel off the ground. My balance wavers, and for a moment my arms pinwheel.
Behind me, I hear Tommy’s derisive snort.
Regaining my balance, I push off again, building up just enough speed, then press my front foot down and pivot my hips.
One spin
Two
Three
A smooth, crisp triple spin. A murmur rises from the boys, and I catch a quick glimpse of Tommy’s mouth agape.
I should stop. I’ve made my point. But the wind is in my hair, and the ocean is so close I can taste the salt in the breeze.
My eyes dart to the steep road that leads down to the ocean path, and an impulse sneaks up on me, taking me by surprise.
Break the pattern.
Pushing off from the flat concrete, I skate away from the park, hopping over the curb and into the empty road.
Sadie shrieks and runs after me, followed by Tommy and the other boys.
I bend my knees to absorb the bumps in the road and let gravity take me.
Break the pattern.
Faster – faster. I squat down and lean back to balance my weight as the skateboard barrels down the hill, and the white waves that spurt up the cliffs seem to jump up to greet me, their crashes a drumroll, the wind a soaring melody. This isn’t just skating; this is singing.
“Betty, stop!” Sadie’s voice is far away at the top of the hill.
I put on a final burst of speed just before I reach the cliffside path. The thin wire fence is mere feet away from me.
I stand, push onto my back foot, and swing my hips.
I whoosh into a hairpin turn, and the wire fence brushes against the hair on my arm. Then I glide along the path, along the cliffs, the wind carrying a mist of ocean spray into my face.
Cheers erupt above me. Up the hill, Tommy’s friends whoop and clap each other on the back, and Sadie hops up and down, her ponytail bouncing. Even from this distance, I can see that Tommy’s face is a splotchy red.
I hop off my board and jog, a gasp of laughter bursting from me. Then, though I’m grinning so hard my cheeks ache, I place both hands on the deck of my board and run a few steps. I pick up speed, then swing my legs up into a handstand as I glide.
The walk back up the hill is long, but Sadie rushes down to meet me.
Tommy’s friends cluster around me, their cheers and laughs aimed as much at Tommy’s embarrassment as at my glory.
“We said the skate park,” Tommy says petulantly. “That was out of bounds.”
Sadie rolls her eyes. There will be no more mooning over Tommy Regis, I think. We push past the boys and make our way, arm in arm, back to our picnic.
Our food is scattered over a faded nine patch quilt. My Grandmama’s quilt and her mama’s quilt before her. In each of the nine squares is a cross-stitched image, one for each woman in the family. An exquisite bouquet of wildflowers by my great grandmama. A grey horse by my Grandmama. A half-finished typewriter by my mother. And, in bright new thread, a skateboard, by me.
Thank you so much for reading!
I wrote “Nine Patch Technical” as part of a Flash Fiction challenge (1000 words or less) for NYC Midnight.
This was my prompt:
Genre: Action/Adventure
Location: A skatepark
Object: A quilt
So…somehow I had to work a quilt (???) into a skateboarding action/adventure story in 1000 words or less. I ended up scrapping my original idea and starting this one with nine hours left before the submission deadline, but I finished!
Prior to writing this story, I knew absolutely nothing about skateboarding. But after scouring Wikipedia pages and old recordings of teenagers skateboarding in the 1960s, I knew the names of a few popular moves, particularly the handstand popularized by Patti McGee, the first professional female skateboarder.
I hope you enjoyed this story! Thank you again for reading, and please stop back again next week!
“Evil travels in straight lines.” This idea, applied to the quilt, immediately drew my attention because though it’s not something I’ve come across in my own culture, it’s something I’ve come across in Chinese culture. It’s why traditional courtyard homes were built with a kind of stonework screen immediately inside the entrance, to stop the spirits flying into the home. Very curious about how common the idea is in American folk tradition?
Exhilarating! Good for Betty! Your research was spot on. I would never have guessed you weren’t a skater. Fantastic writing!