Anita Daher - Two Foot Punch

Anita Daher

Orca Sports

Copyright 2007 Anita Daher

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Daher, Anita, 1965

Two foot punch / written by Anita Daher.
(Orca sports)

Electronic Monograph
Issued also in print format.
ISBN 9781551438788(pdf) -- ISBN 9781554697687 (epub)

I. Title. II. Series.
PS8557.A35T86 2007 jC813.6 C2007-903165-X

Summary: Nikki blames her brother for their parents death in a house fire, but when he gets involved with a gang, Nikki knows she is the only one who can save him.

First published in the United States, 2007
Library of Congress Control Number: 2007928612

Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.

Cover design: Teresa Bubela
Cover photography: Charlotte Wiig
Author photo: Sara Daher

In Canada:
Orca Book Publishers
PO Box 5626, Station B
Victoria, BC Canada
V8R 6S4

In the United States:
Orca Book Publishers
PO Box 468
Custer, WA USA
98240-0468

www.orcabook.com
010 09 08 07 4 3 2 1

For my extended family in this dynamic
city of Winnipeg, a place that knows when
to slumber and when to rock and roll!

I offer most earnest thanks to Rob Ray of Renzhe Parkour (www.renzheparkour.com), who willingly answered my questions and read an early draft of the manuscript for technical accuracy; To Liv Rowlands, traceuse extraordinaire, who graciously agreed to let her image grace the cover of this book; To the members of the Winnipeg Parkour team (www.winnipegparkour.com), especially T-mac, who was my e-mail lifeline and team go-between. Hawk, Tom, Kyle, Zeddy, Twizzy, Spade and Riley welcomed me to their first jam of 2007 and answered every question I had left with knowledge, experience, patience and good humor.

Thanks also to Loretta Martin of Center Venture Development Corporation, who took time out of her day to take me through a drippy, dank and fascinating pump station so rich in history; and to Heritage Winnipeg, who put me in touch with Loretta.

Finally, thanks to Jim and the girls for continuing to tolerate and support my writing obsession; to Marie Campbell, the finest, most supportive (and fun) agent a gal could hope for; to all the dear souls at Orca, especially Maureen Colgan, whom I will miss, and Sarah Harvey, my editor. Sarah, you rock! Thanks for pushing me. It has been a gift and a pleasure to work with you again.

Once again I have used real names and nicknames of people I know and have known and pasted them on fictional characters. I do this out of respect.

Within the parkour community there are differing opinions on certain aspects of parkour, free running and tricking. I have tried to use language choices that all will find acceptable. Above all, I have tried to celebrate its philosophy.

Peace.

Its just being able to overcome anything, to always move forward, to never stop...Theres always a different path that you can follow.

David Belle

If you can conquer the mind and can open your imagination to all the possibilities the world has, then the physical can come easier.

Rob Ray

Theres a fine line between parkour and trespassing.

Hawk

It feels like flying.

In the space between where my sneakers leave the concrete and where they hit the top of the next wall, I feel free. One day I, Nikki Louise Stuart, will soar above the rooftops, just like my big brother Derek used to do. But for now these concrete slabs of Winnipegs River Park Labyrinth are mine. I own them.

Unnng!

Okay, maybe not all of them. A misstep costs me my perfect landing, but at least I hit the wall square. I wrap my fingers over the edge and scrabble over the top onto the platform. My momentum is good. I roll out and end up head over heels, squatting. Yeah, baby! I smile to myself. After all, there are no real missteps in parkour.

Parkour is about movement. Its about making anything and everything in my path a part of my run. Its about overcoming obstacles by moving over or through them. Parkour is an attitude. Above all its about being free.

At least, thats what Derek used to say.

Its hot, and Ive been running hard. My palms feel good pressed against the concrete, which is still early morning cool. The sun is way too bright. If I tip my head forward like Im praying, my hair blots out the light and gives my eyes a break. Everyone says its the color of burnt chocolate. My hair, that is. My eyes are blue-gray and kinda smoky, like morning fog.

Standing, I fling my hair from my face and walk to the edge of the platform. Its not the tallest part of the labyrinth, but its high enough to see all around. When you do parkour, you learn to look at things differently. Better. Your eyes are wide open. Lots of people run in teams, but you dont have to. All you need are sneakers and a good eye.

Theres a turret I lean against when I face the river. There are parks to the right of me all the way to The Forksthe place where two rivers join. The Forks is mostly for tourists and shoppers.

To my left and behind me is The Exchange District, full of old buildings made of brick and limestone all decked out with pillars and gargoyles. Thats where I live. Right downtown.

This labyrinth is a perfect place to watch people, which is one of my favorite things to do. Its 6:00 AM. All the drug addicts have disappeared, and the tourists havent yet rolled out of bed. Its early, but Im not the only one around.

Theres Joe Jogger and Jane Jogger, all decked out in matching short-shorts and sweat-bands.

And theres Dog Guy. Every morning he walks a bunch of dogs, all sizes and colors, always changing except for onea Saint Bernard. Thats gotta be his own, otherwise how could he stand to stoop and scoop the poop?

My favorite person is Angelat least thats what I call him. Hes an old guy, wrinkled and gray. Probably homeless. I like to think hes my guardian angel. I know hes not, really. Its just something I like to think.

Anyway, hes always on the bench right in front of the labyrinth. I wonder sometimes if Angel even sees me. I mean, Im always running and doing parkour around here. If he does see me, he pretends he doesnt.

I breathe in one more lungful of morning, and then my belly tells me its time to go. I run and I run and I keep my speed up as I near a waist-high concrete barrier between a hotel and the road. I plant my left hand first, and swing my bod around in a reverse vault. Skill. Thats what that is. There are more places to parkour in the park, but The Exchange has a few hot-spots if you know where to look.

Most of these buildings are old banks. Thats why they call it The Exchangebecause people used to exchange money for stocks and bonds here. Something like that, anyway. Now its mostly cafs, shops and upscale loft condos like the one my aunt lives in.