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The Trouble with Skateboarding
by Chris Ashley
194 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #04-0195; ISBN 1-4120-2367-X; US$20.00, C$18.99, EUR16.50, £11.50
Counterfeit skateboards, chasing smugglers and exciting skateboarding competitions. Find out how five young people learn valuable life lessons while saving the skate park of their dreams. Continuous action leading to the toughest challenge ever.
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About the Book About the Author Excerpts Catalogue Information
About the Book
Counterfeit skateboards! Who is trying to put Mike Holt out of business? He's already had one tragedy in his life, will this be more than he can handle? Jim and Ben need to find out who is doing this quickly or their dreams of a skateboard park will be gone forever.
This is the story of five close friends who all share one common love - skateboarding. They live in the small city of Exton, Pennsylvania that is not known as a skateboarding haven. They have dreams of changing that by helping to open a new skate park in their city. Their plans are taking shape when disasters strikes. Mike's shop is in danger of being put out of business by a mysterious stranger and that would lead to the end of the 2nd Annual Boardzone Skateboard competition and their skate park dreams.
Like most kids they can't resist getting involved and jump right in to try and figureout what is going on - and of course, get into a load of trouble in the process. With the help of their Uncle, a retired policeman, the group of young people get into one precarious situation after another while searching for the identity of the counterfeiter. Each day leads our young group one step closer to facing their biggest challenge ever.
Will they solve the mysterious counterfeit skateboarding ring? Will Mike lose his store and cancel the big competition? Will corrupt city officials steal the land for the new skate park?
No one is going to take away their dream of the first skate park in their hometown. Even if they have to face their enemy head on - they will.
About the Author
Chris Ashley lives in Winnipeg with his wife and two children. He has always had a passion for writing and telling stories. He is a senior manager, involved in bringing new products to market, and being creative has always been one of his passions.
His children were the inspiration for this story. His son loves to skateboard and snowboard. Their house is easy to pick out because it is the only one to have so many ramps, half-pipes and grinding rails on the driveway - so many it is difficult to park the car.Please contact Chris Ashley at chrisashley903@shaw.ca for more information.
Excerpts
Chapter 14
Checking Out the Warehouse"Let's see where this guy is going, shall we?"
Frank started the car and pulled up to the edge of the street. The parking lot where the blue van was parked only had one exit and he had not appeared yet. About a minute later, the blue van came out of the parking lot and turned onto the street towards their car. The van drove past Frank's car and Frank pulled into traffic behind him at a safe distance. Frank did not want to be noticed by the driver.
The driver of the blue van drove carefully down Pine Boulevard and then turned west on Racicot Street. The van driver drove more slowly now and Frank thought he might have been noticed. As Frank watched the driver of the van it appeared like he was looking for something. The van driver was scanning the street from left to right as he drove.
Finally the blue van signaled and pulled over into the parking lot of Watson's Qwik Stop. The van driver went into the store and came out a couple of minutes later carrying a pack of cigarettes. He opened the back door of his van, lit up a cigarette and sat down on the rear bumper of his van. It seemed like he was waiting for someone who was late because he kept checking his watch.
"What is he doing?" asked Christyn.
"I'm not sure," said Frank, "but I'm thinking he is planning something to do with the counterfeit boards."
Buster was getting hot sitting in this car and was really looking forward to some ice cream or a drink of water. He stuck his nose right in Frank's right ear and began to pant and blow hot breath on Frank.
"Whoa Buster. I think it's time we got you some of those mint dog biscuits. When was the last time we brushed your teeth?" said Frank.
"You're getting hot, aren't you fella! I'm going to pull into this drivethru while we wait and watch the blue van. Anyone up for a burger?"
Buster wagged his tail wildly at the word "burger".
"How 'bout a nice cup of water for you Buster?" said Frank.
Buster made a sighing sound. His ears dropped and put his nose between his paws.
The kids passed their orders to Frank. While Frank waited for the food to be prepared, the kids kept their eye on the blue van. After a few minutes the food was ready and Frank pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. It was across the street and down a bit from the Qwik Stop so they could eat and still watch the blue van easily.
Everyone was hungry and the food tasted good. Buster had enjoyed his water and even had a few french fries from Billy when Billy wasn't looking.
"Look, someone is talking to the van driver," said Christyn.
A teenage boy had approached the van driver and struck up a conversation. The van driver reached into the van and pulled out two boards. The boy looked over both boards and gave the driver some money. The kid left with one board.
About 10 minutes later another group of kids arrived on bicycles and began to talk to the driver. Two of the kids ended up buying a board each. As they were leaving, a blue Mustang pulled up to the van. The driver of the sports car didn't even get out of the car. The van driver listened to the person in the car for a few seconds and then retrieved a skateboard from his van. He passed the board through the car window and grabbed some cash from the driver. The Mustang took off in a spray of gravel and dirt.
"This guy does pretty brisk business doesn't he?" exclaimed Uncle Frank.
"Unbelievable!" said Ben.
"No wonder Mike is having trouble selling boards. This guy is taking away all his business," lamented Jim.
They watched the van for about 30 minutes in total and then the van driver was on the move again. Uncle Frank began to follow the van again.
"I think I am going to get a little help," said Uncle Frank.
He used his cell phone to call someone.
"Hello. Is Ron there?" Frank said into the cell phone.
Frank waited for a few seconds. "Hi Ron. Frank Brandt here." Frank and the other person chatted for a few moments and then Frank asked for a favor.
"Ron, I need you to run a plate for me...sure...Pennsylvania TH4582YT."
Where ever Ron was he must have had access to a computer because Frank did not have to wait long for the answer.
Uncle Frank asked Christyn to write down the information about the registered owner of the van.
"Cliff Stinson, yes, I've got it. 476 Rengate Way Apt #4, Exton.
"Thanks Ron. Oh, one other thing. I know...I know...I'll bring you a dozen Krispy Kreme doughnuts in the morning...I need you to find anything you can on a numbered company."
Frank listened for a few seconds and then gave the numbered company information to Ron.
"Thanks Ron. You're a lifesaver. Later, I'll fi ll you in on what is going on. It looks like we're going to spend some work time together. I'll come by in the morning and we can discuss it. Good-bye."
While Uncle Frank put his cell phone away, the kids in the car waited anxiously for him to fi ll them in.
"Well" said Frank, "my buddy Ron Sampson has come through big for us. He has found the registered owner of the van and that person's address. He is also looking into the numbered company for us and should know more tomorrow."
Christyn looked at the paper and read the name of the van's registered owner out loud. "Cliff Stinson, that is a name I have never heard before," said Christyn.
"Me neither," said Frank. "People like him move around a lot so he is probably new to Exton."
"What do we do next, Uncle Frank?" asked Jim, clearly curious about the next steps.
"We continue to follow the van and see where our Mr. Stinson takes us," said Frank as he stared out the front windshield.
The van made a series of turns until it was on the west side of Exton in the warehouse district. This was the area of town where there was mostly large business buildings. The buildings were all basically the same, 30,000-50,000 square feet one-story warehouses with large loading docks for semi-trucks to load and unload goods.
Every few blocks there was at least one large warehouse that was several stories tall. The van pulled into one of these larger warehouses and the name on the front of the building said "Lee International Trading Co. - Wholesale Florist and Supplies. There were only a few cars in the large parking lot. The van backed up into a spot near a large loading door.
"This warehouse seems different than the others," thought Frank. Frank continued to survey the building. "Now what is it that is so different?" he wondered.
"Frank," said Scott, "why does this warehouse have barbed wire all along the top of the fence?"
"That's it!" exclaimed Frank. "I thought there was something strange about this place and look at the windows."
Uncle Frank didn't usually get excited but he was now. All the kids looked at the windows of the building.
"They are all covered in bars and wire mesh. This place is heavily protected. Look at the corners of the roof - do you see the surveillance cameras? Someone is probably watching every vehicle that comes in and out of the lot."
"Why would a wholesale fl orist have so much security?" asked Jim.
"I'm guessing they aren't just dealing in fl owers and vases here J.," growled Uncle Frank.
They had pulled over across the street from the warehouse and had been watching to see what the van driver would do. The van driver had gotten out of the van and had entered the side door next to the large loading door.
"It's too bad we can't see what's going on inside," said Christyn.
Frank was about to agree when he noticed the large loading door open.
"Hey guys, look. Something is happening by the van," said Frank.
The van driver walked out of the building through the large open door and went around and opened up the back door of the van. Two other men walked out into the daylight and stood in front of the van. They looked impatient as they waited for the van driver. The van driver approached them and began talking to them. After a minute of talking, the van driver reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope. He gave the envelope to the larger of the two men and the man pulled what was clearly a large amount of cash from the envelope. The large man started counting the cash.
When the man was finished counting the cash he said something quickly to the other man and that man nodded his head. The large man shouted something to someone inside the warehouse and a few seconds later a third man in blue overalls came out of the warehouse wheeling a pallet full of skateboards. A pallet is a wooden platform that someone loads merchandise on. A device called a pallet jack picks up the wooden platform and allows you to wheel it to where ever the merchandise has to be moved. It is just an easy way to move heavy or a large amount of objects. In this case, many skateboards at once.
"Look at all those counterfeit skateboards!" whistled Jim.
"Holy cow!" said Billy. "I have never seen so many skateboards at one time."
Jim was really annoyed at what he saw. These men were dealing in counterfeit skateboards and because of that Mike was close to losing his shop and his dream of opening a new skate park.
"Uncle Frank, what can we do to stop this," pleaded Jim. "If this guy sells all those counterfeit skateboards, Mike will never make any money."
At that point the van driver began loading the skateboards into the back of the truck while the other men went back inside the warehouse.
"J., I need to closer look at the building. I have to see what is going on inside," said Frank. "You kids have to stay in the car. It could be very dangerous and I don't want any of you to get hurt."
"Are you sure we can't help in any way?" said Ben.
"I will take one of the two-way radios and if I need your help, I will let you know," said Frank.
"OK!" said Jim "I'll man the radio."
Buster looked concerned. He wasn't worried about Frank but he could sure use another drink of water. As Frank left the car, Buster barked anxiously.
Frank got out of the car and tucked the two-way radio into his coat pocket. He wished he were still carrying his police-issue 9mm. He liked the security of having a reliable pistol close by. "Once a cop, always a cop," he muttered to himself.
Frank crossed the street and walked along the front of the building. He knew that if he entered into the lot through the front gate he would be in full view of the cameras that were watching the lot. He decided to do some checking of his own fi rst. He walked to one end of the building and had a look around back. As he approached the back corner of the fence, he noticed there was a gate in the fence that was padlocked shut. "This looks like it used to be a back entrance," thought Frank.
The padlock was old and rusted and didn't look like it was in top condition any longer. Frank looked the back of the building over and to his delight did not see any cameras watching the back. The owners of the building must have thought that anyone coming to the building would have to come in through the front entrance. Frank decided to make his own entrance.
Looking around there was garbage and debris strewn everywhere on the ground. Clearly the owner of this building was spending all their money taking care of the building and not the outside of this property. Frank found a small length of heavy metal pipe. It looked like it came off of some big vehicle.
He picked it up and walked over to the gate. He looked around and no one was in sight. He raised the bar and brought it down very hard precisely on the old lock. The lock shattered in three pieces like it was made of clay.
Most of the lock fell to the ground. Frank quickly removed the remaining pieces of the broken lock and opened the door in the fence.
Frank felt a rush of excitement that he had not felt in a long time. What he was doing was not right but he needed to fi nd out what was going on inside the building.
The kids could barely make out what Frank was doing but they did see him quickly open the back gate and slip inside the compound.
"He's in!" squealed Billy.
"Shall we call him on the two-way to see how he is doing?" asked Scott.
"No way!" said Ben. "If someone is close by, they may hear our voice and spot Frank. We will wait for his instructions."
Frank had slipped inside the compound and immediately made his way over to the side of the building. Frank was not as young and fit as he once was so the word "sprinting" is generous to describe how he moved.
He did not want to be seen by anyone looking out a back window of the warehouse. When he got to the edge of the building, he waited there for three minutes. He waited to see if anyone came rushing out to meet him and he needed to catch his breath a little. The excitement and the running had his heart racing. He knew he had to calm down before his next move.
Not far away from where Frank was standing there was a conversation going on inside the building. The three men were discussing the deal they had just made with Cliff Stinson.
"Cliff is our best customer these days. He seems to be able to sell as many skateboards as we can give him," said the smaller man.
The larger man just grunted. Obviously he was not much of a talker. The other man who had wheeled out the pallet full of counterfeit goods was busy moving other pallets of skateboards from a large container. The warehouse was huge inside. On the floor in front of them there were large shipping containers stacked. Each container could easily hold a large pick-up truck.
There were 18 containers stacked inside the warehouse and the fi rst three containers held 20 pallets of skateboard decks, wheels, bearings and trucks.
The smaller man was named Vincent Lee. He had come to the United States from China as a young man and four years ago had taken over his father's wholesale florist business. Vincent had found there was not a lot of money to be made in selling wholesale floral supplies so he had started looking for other goods to trade. He had found the perfect scam. He had contacts in China and they could provide him with access to any type of goods he wanted.
He had a regular shipping schedule setup and the United States Customs Service treated Lee International Trading Co. as a legitimate company. They rarely got inspected anymore. The government was always trying to fi nd drugs in shipments. Vincent knew that the Customs agents only had the capacity to check 1 out of every 100 containers that passed through U.S. ports. With this knowledge and the fact that he had no interest in drugs, Vincent felt very sure that he could import just about anything else without much worry.
He had decided that importing counterfeit items that were in high demand by teenagers was the most lucrative for him. He had found sources for counterfeit skateboards, counterfeit CDs and clothing that looked real but was not.
"I buy these items for about a $1.00 a piece and I can sell them for $20.00 to $30.00 each. Not a bad day's work!" he said to himself smiling. He liked easy money. He had never wanted to work as hard as his father. His father had worked six days a week for 12 hours a day and had died of a heart attack one Sunday while counting inventory. Vincent never wanted to die like that. His father never stopped once to enjoy what he had accumulated.
Vincent did though. In about two years after the death of his father, Vincent had enjoyed himself so much that he realized he was going to be out of money soon. It was then that Vincent had decided he needed to begin trading in other things beside floral supplies.
Vincent looked over the fl oor of the warehouse and thought about all the merchandise that was in the containers. The containers had just arrived two days earlier. Vincent had been waiting for this shipment. He had $100,000 of his money tied up in this shipment and after all the goods were sold, Vincent expected to make $1,250,000. He had buyers lined up for the counterfeit skateboards. He had other buyers ready to take the cases of CDs. There was even a semi-truck arriving in the morning that was going to take all of the counterfeit clothes. The clothes were headed for Florida, Georgia and Texas. This was going to be a good week for Vincent Lee. At last he was going to be able to buy that Porsche Boxster S that he had test driven a few weeks earlier. He was thinking about that car when there was a shout from the second floor catwalk. It was Sing Li. He worked in the building and was in charge of monitoring the security video. Sing Li was running high along the second floor catwalk that ran along the length of the building.
"Someone is hiding at the back of the building!" shouted Sing Li.
Vincent motioned for the large man to investigate. The man hurried off in the same direction as Sing Li had been running.
Vincent did not like surprises and was feeling a bit concerned at the news of a possible intruder.
Uncle Frank had been trying to look in a window but could not reach high enough to see in. He had been busy trying to pull some boxes towards a window and had not noticed he was in plain view of a different security camera watching the back of the building. Frank was in the middle of standing on the boxes and rubbing the dirt away from the window when he heard a sound behind him that made his blood freeze solid.
Catalogue Information
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About the Book