Chapter 1

I knew I was really in trouble when Little Ty pulled out a sword.

“Where’s my phone, Crazylegs?” he said.

That was typical Little Ty. He had to be different, over the top. Somehow, he had got hold of a katana—that’s a Japanese samurai sword—and there he was, waving it at me.

I had no idea whether it was sharp enough to cut me, but I wasn’t going to wait around and find out. I turned and ran.

Ty didn’t bother to chase after me. He knew he couldn’t catch me, even if he wasn’t dragging around forty inches of steel. He’s about five feet six, and I passed six feet when I was thirteen.

For a while I didn’t know what to do with my long legs, and everyone laughed at how I walked. That’s how I got the name “Crazylegs.”

Now though, I’m sixteen years old and six feet four inches tall. I can run faster than any kid in our neighborhood. But Little Ty knew he didn’t need to chase me.

“I know where you live!” he yelled after me.

That was true, but he wouldn’t come round at night. There was someone at my house that had all the neighborhood kids quaking with fear. Including me.

“Connor!” my Mom yelled.

I was trying to sneak in through the back door, but Mom had ears like a bat.

“Connor Crane, where have you been?” she said.

I thought about what had happened. Did I dare tell Mom about the trouble I was in? Maybe she could help. But then, maybe I would rather face Little Ty with a sword than get Mom angry.

The evening had started out pretty normal. I was shooting hoops down at the outdoor court, waiting for my friends. A girl was watching me.

I’d seen her hanging around with a group of kids, but now she was on her own. She looked tough, but pretty. I tried a fadeaway shot to impress her. That’s a trick shot where you fall backwards as you throw the ball, but I tried too hard and fell on my backside.

“Hey, Crazylegs! Rolling in the dirt, where you belong?”

Little Ty was walking across, calling to me. I tried to sneak off, because I didn’t want the girl hearing my dumb nickname. But he stood in my way.

“I don’t want any trouble,” I said.

Little Ty smiled nastily. I didn’t know why he’s always picking on me. Maybe it’s because I’m so tall and he’s so short—like he’s trying to make up for it.

“You think you’re good at basketball?” he said.

I didn’t really think I was any good, but I just shrugged. I could see the girl was watching us, and I think Little Ty did too, because he tried to grab the ball.

I swung the ball away and dribbled past him. The girl clapped. Little Ty turned red, and charged at me. He wasn’t even trying to get the ball, just to knock me over. I sidestepped, and he crashed to the ground. As he fell, something flew from his pocket.

“Look what you’ve done!” Little Ty yelled.

His cell phone lay beside him on the concrete, and the screen was smashed. His face red with rage, Little Ty got to his feet.

“You broke my phone,” he said. “Give me yours.”

I could hardly believe what I was hearing.

“I’m not giving you my phone,” I said. “It’s your fault you fell over. I told you I didn’t want any trouble. Anyway, my phone is much better than yours.”

My cell phone was the most expensive thing I owned: latest model, top of the line. I knew how hard my Mom had worked to buy it for me, and there was no way I was handing it over to Little Ty.

He took a step toward me, then thought better of it.

“I’ll be back,” he said, trying to sound scary.

“I don’t think your friend is very happy with you,” the girl said, grinning.

“He’s not my friend,” I told her.

I was happy though. That was the first time she’d ever spoken to me.

But she was right about Little Ty. He was waiting for me as I walked home, and he was carrying a sword.

I knew I was safe for that evening. Little Ty wouldn’t dare come to my house when my Mom was there. But the next day I would need to be very careful.

Chapter 2

Next morning, I peeped out of the window as Mom went off to work. Little Ty was waiting outside.

For the first time I regretted dropping out of school. At least that would have been somewhere safe to go. I didn’t like the idea of being stuck inside the house, so I went out through the back door. Even Little Ty wasn’t that dumb though.

“Little Ty, he’s around here!”

I didn’t know the kid who was yelling, but Little Ty must have paid him to watch out for me. Both of them chased me down the street.

I was far enough ahead of them that I had time to think. I could go to one of my friends’ houses, but I didn’t want to get them involved. It was my mess and I needed to sort it out.

If I fought with Little Ty I could probably beat him, but that would just make him angrier. He’d be back with a bigger gang. Also my Mom would find out, and that was even scarier.

It looked like I had no choice but to keep running until he got bored and gave up. Even as I thought that, I realized I’d taken a wrong turn. I hadn’t been thinking about where I was going, and I was stuck in a dead end.

“Got you now, Crazylegs,” Little Ty said.

He slowed to a walk, and moved down the alley toward me with a nasty smile on his face. I looked around. The walls were too high to climb, and most of the businesses were closed up. Only one garage door was open. I ducked inside.

“What do you want?” said a rough voice.

I recognized old Viktor. Everyone in the neighborhood knew him. He was a cranky old man, with bushy eyebrows, who yelled at all the kids.

“Just… having a look,” I said.

The garage smelled of oil and metal. Viktor stood by a car with its hood open. He had a wrench in his hand.

“You’ve had a look, now get out,” he said. “This is a place of business, not a kindergarten.”

I remembered that Viktor repaired cars for a living.

“I’m…interested in cars,” I said.

“Oh yeah?” Viktor said. “And your friend outside, is he interested in cars too?”

Little Ty was waiting in the alley.

“He’s not my friend,” I said. “Can I help you?”

“Since you’re here,” Viktor said, “pass me that breaker bar.”

I looked at the rows of shiny tools hanging on the wall. Which one was a breaker bar?

“Didn’t your Pa teach you anything?” Viktor growled.

“My Pa died when I was a baby,” I said.

Viktor peered at me through his eyebrows.

“Are you Kevin Crane’s boy? I knew your Pa. He was a good man.”

He wiped his hands on an old rag, and took a tool from the wall.

“This is a breaker bar,” he said. “We use it when we need to loosen a tight fastening.”

For the rest of the day I tried to help him, although I wasn’t much good. Every time he needed something, he had to show me what it was. Everything he wanted me to do, he had to explain to me. But he didn’t yell at me—much. I got the idea he was glad to have someone around, even someone useless.

When evening came, he started to clean up.

“What are you waiting for?” he said. “Go home.”

I didn’t move. Viktor looked out into the alley.

“Your friend is still there,” he said. “He must really want to see you.”

“He has nothing better to do,” I said. “He dropped out of school last month.”

“If you don’t want to see him,” Viktor said, “let me show you the back way out.”

“Thanks!” I said.

As he took me to the door, he said:

“Listen. It looks like you need somewhere safe to be during the day. I need someone to help me out around here. So come back tomorrow, and I’ll teach you what I know. Since you’re so interested in cars.”

He was half smiling. I wondered if he knew what was going on all along. But I did need somewhere to go. And I had actually enjoyed working on the car.

“Sure,” I said. “See you tomorrow.”

Chapter 3

That was how I started working for old man Viktor.

Every morning I had to dodge past Little Ty to get there. But I guess he couldn’t afford to keep paying someone to watch the other door. So if he was at the front, I went out the back…and if he was at the back, I strolled out the front door.

First Viktor told me the names of all the tools, and what they were used for, so I could fetch him what he needed. As the week went on, I became less of a problem and more of a help. Then he began to show me how an engine worked.

“Back in the day—” he said.

I must have groaned, because he stopped.

“Listen, kid,” he said. “Not everything from the past is boring and useless. Some things are better than they used to be, but some things aren’t, and one of those is that a working man used to be able to fix his own stuff.”

“Working man?” I said, and Viktor grinned.

“OK, you got me,” he said. “They were usually men, and that’s one thing that’s got better. But the point is, man or woman, if you bought a car, it was yours. You could open it up, mess around inside, look after it. You wouldn’t pay someone to change the oil or service it. You’d spend your Sunday in the garage tinkering.”

“So what changed?” I said.

“They made cars too complicated. A car now is basically just a computer on wheels. Anything goes wrong, you have to take it to a dealer.”

“What’s the problem?”

“They charge you hundreds for a simple job you could do yourself in ten minutes,” Viktor explained. “And worse, they always want you to buy a new one. Like that cellphone of yours. If that broke, would you open it up and repair it?”

“I wouldn’t know how,” I said.

“We can’t keep throwing things away and making new ones,” Viktor said. “If we’re going to save the earth, we need to learn how to fix things again. Now, pass me the impact wrench.”

I wasn’t sure I was saving the Earth, but I enjoyed fixing things. I enjoyed learning too, and that surprised me.

At school I’d spent most of my time trying not to learn anything. I couldn’t bear just sitting there listening. At elementary school I used to act out, talking, shouting, running away. As I got older, I learned that if you kept quiet, teachers would leave you alone.

So I sat at the back, kept my head down, and spent my days imagining I was somewhere else: flying through space, winning the Super Bowl, fighting armies of goblins. I copied work when I could, and somehow got through. When I dropped out, they cared even less than I did.

Viktor though, he told me I was a quick learner.

“You learn best by doing, not listening,” he said. “Tell you what—see that old wreck in the corner? If you can get that going again, it’s yours.”

“I can’t drive,” I said.

“That’s another thing you need to learn,” Viktor said.

At the end of the week, as I was leaving, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He took out some bills and pushed them into my hand.

“What’s that for?” I said.

“That’s your pay,” he said. “You work, you get paid. Next week though we’ll have to do it properly, on the books. Time to grow up, young man!”

It felt good going home with money in my pocket, and giving Mom some for groceries.

“Where did this come from?” she asked suspiciously.

I told her about working for Viktor, and she gave me a big hug. That felt good too. When Monday came round, I actually looked forward to going to Viktor’s shop.

After a couple of weeks, I’d almost forgotten about Little Ty. But he hadn’t forgotten about me.

I was walking home one night, when he stepped out in front of me.

“You’ve been avoiding me, Crazylegs,” he said. “Hiding behind that old man. But you owe me a phone, so hand it over. Or else.”

I laughed.

“Or else what?” I said.

But I knew what he meant when three other kids appeared behind him.

“Four against one?” I said. “That’s brave.”

“No, it’s smart,” Little Ty said as they walked toward me. “Not my fault you’ve got no friends.”

“But he does have friends,” a girl’s voice said.

I turned around in surprise. It was the tough girl from the basketball court and her crew.

“Who are you?” Little Ty said.

“We’re the Fixers,” the girl said.

“Never heard of you,” Little Ty said.

The girl shrugged.

“Whatever. We’re Connor’s friends.”

I’d only spoken to her once, but I wasn’t about to tell Little Ty that.

“I don’t care—” Little Ty started to say, but then he noticed his “friends” had vanished.

Now that he was on his own against a gang, he wasn’t so keen on the idea. He cursed at me, and hurried after them.

“Thanks,” I said to the girl.

“No problem,” she said. “Fighting isn’t really our thing, but we weren’t going to stand by and watch four of them beat on you.”

“How do you know my name?” I said.

“We’ve been asking around about you. My name’s Jaz, by the way. Short for Jazmin.”

We bumped fists. I wondered why she had been asking about me, but tried to play it cool.

“So what did people say about me?” I asked.

“They say you’re old man Viktor’s apprentice.”

“Apprentice?” I didn’t know what the word meant.

“You work for him, and he teaches you a trade. We’re all apprentices too. I’m learning to be a carpenter.”

“You don’t look like a carpenter,” I said.

“Because I’m a girl?”

“No, I just always thought carpenters were more… hairy.”

She laughed.

“Anyway,” she said, “we’re all about fixing things. Making this neighborhood a better place. We wondered if you’d like to hang out with us?”

“No thanks,” I said.

She looked shocked.

“I’m not really into gangs,” I said, and walked away.

Chapter 4

Maybe you think I was mean to Jazmin, after she and her friends had saved me. But I’d never been someone who joined things. I had my crew and we hung out, shooting hoops and playing video games. That was enough for me. I didn’t want to save the world.

All that was going to change.

I kept working on the old wreck Viktor had given me, and after a few weeks I got the engine running. Viktor was really pleased with me, and said he would get it insured and teach me to drive. I’d found out he had no family in the city. Sometimes he treated me more like a son than an apprentice.

I was excited to get to work the next day, but as soon as I arrived at the shop I knew something was wrong. Usually I could hear Viktor singing along to old rock songs while he worked. Today though the shop was silent.

“Viktor?” I called.

My heart sank when I heard Little Ty’s voice.

“Come inside, Crazylegs.”

He was standing by my car, holding his stupid samurai sword…and pointing it at Viktor.

“Listen, Ty,” I said. “Whatever beef you have with me, Viktor’s done nothing to you. Come outside and let’s talk about it.”

“I’ve had enough of you hiding in here,” Little Ty said. “Give me your phone, and I’ll let the old man go.”

“All right, all right,” I said. I didn’t want Viktor to get hurt over a stupid argument. “You can have the phone.”

“Don’t give him anything,” Viktor said. “What this punk kid doesn’t know is that I used to be a Marine.”

He spun round and whacked Little Ty on the arm with a wrench. Little Ty yelped in pain, and the sword flew from his hand. It twisted in the air…

…and the point went into Viktor’s foot.

That Viktor is one tough old man, because he didn’t scream. The screams came from Little Ty.

“He’s bleeding! Do something!” he shrieked.

“You come in waving a sword around,” I said, “then you’re shocked when someone gets hurt?”

“Never mind that,” Viktor said. “Just get me to the hospital!”

I grabbed some clean rags and gave them to Viktor to stop the bleeding.

“Where’s your car?” I said.

“I don’t have a car,” Viktor said.

I stared at him.

“You run an auto repair shop, and you don’t have a car?”

He shrugged.

“Never needed one. We’ll have to take the wreck.”

“I can’t drive,” I said.

“I can,” Little Ty said.

I was shaking as we climbed into the car I had fixed up. The engine had worked yesterday, but maybe that was a fluke. And we had never taken it out on the road.

I passed the keys to Little Ty, and held my breath as he turned them in the ignition.

“It won’t start!” he said.

He was nearly crying. I would never take him seriously as a gangsta again.

I got out and opened the hood.

“Check the fuel filter,” Viktor called.

He was right—the filter was full of dirt, which was stopping the gas reaching the engine. I switched it for a new one.

“Try it now,” I said.

Little Ty turned the key…and the engine revved to life.

I jumped back in the car. I was still anxious, but the car rolled out of the shop and onto the street.

It was early, and the roads were busy with people going to work. Little Ty honked the horn, but we were stuck. Things got worse when a police officer on a motorbike pulled up alongside us.

“License and registration,” she said.

I was relieved that Little Ty actually had a license, and Viktor had all the paperwork for the car.

“What’s going on here?” she said, looking at the blood on Viktor’s foot.

“Accident at work,” Viktor said. “These boys are taking me to hospital.”

“Well then,” the police officer said, “I’d better help you get there.”

She turned on her siren and cleared the cars out of the way. With her leading us, we reached the hospital in minutes.

Little Ty waited with me while the doctor saw Viktor. The old man came hopping out on crutches with his foot bandaged.

“Are you OK?” I asked, but Viktor waved me away.

“Ah, it’s just a scratch,” he said. “I’ve been through worse, believe me.”

“Thanks for not snitching,” Little Ty said. “I’m going to throw that sword in the river.”

He drove us back to the shop. At the door he turned back.

“Listen, Crazylegs—”

“My name is Connor,” I said.

“Listen, Connor,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“What you need,” I said, “is an apprenticeship. Look at me: I’ve got a car, and a weekly paycheck. You’re lucky not to be in jail.”

“Who would give me a chance?” he said.

“I know some people who might be able to help. Viktor, can I—”

“Take the rest of the day off, kid,” Viktor said. “I need to rest anyway. But I’ll see you first thing tomorrow, OK?”

The Fixers were down at the basketball court. I explained what had happened.

“Hey Roberto,” Jazmin called to one of her friends. “Isn’t there a place open with your boss?”

He nodded.

“How do you feel about being a plumber?” Roberto said to Little Ty. “It can be dirty work, but the money is good.”

While they talked, I went over to Jazmin.

“Hey,” I said. “I was wondering if the offer was still open.”

“You want to be a Fixer?” she said.

“Yeah. Fixing things feels good.”

“OK,” she said.

She threw a basketball to me.

“The first thing we’ve got to fix is your fadeaway shot. Ready to learn from an expert?” I grinned.

“I’m always ready to learn.”