Be Careful What You Wish For (4 page)

The game felt weird from the beginning.

The Jefferson team was mostly sixth-graders, and they were pretty small. But they were well coached. They really seemed to know where they were going. And they had a lot of energy and team spirit.

As they came trotting to the center of the gym for the opening tip-off, my stomach was fluttery and I felt as if I weighed a thousand pounds.

I was really dreading this game. I knew I was going to mess up. And I knew that Judith and Anna would be sure to let me know just how badly I messed up, and how I let the team down.

So I was really shaky as the game started. And when, in the opening tip-off, the ball was slapped right to me, I grabbed it — and started dribbling toward the wrong basket!

Luckily, Anna grabbed me and turned me around before I could shoot a basket for Jefferson!
But I could hear players on both teams laughing. And I glanced at the sidelines and saw that both coaches — Ellen and the Jefferson coach — were laughing, too.

I could feel my face turn beet-red. I wanted to quit right then and go sink into a hole in the ground and never come out.

But — to my amazement — I still had the ball.

I tried to pass it to Judith. But I threw it too low, and a Jefferson girl stole it and started dribbling to our basket.

The game was ten seconds old, and I’d already made two mistakes!

I kept telling myself it was just a game, but it didn’t really help. Every time I heard someone laugh I knew they were laughing at me, at how I’d started the game by running in the wrong direction.

When I looked up at the score for the first time, it was six to nothing, Jefferson.

The ball suddenly came sailing to me, seemingly from out of nowhere. I grabbed for it, but it slipped out of my hands. One of my teammates took it, dribbled, then passed it back to me.

I took my first shot. It hit the backboard — a triumph for me! — but didn’t come near the basket. Jefferson took the rebound. A few seconds later it was eight to nothing.

I’m playing worse than ever!
I moaned to myself. I could see Judith glaring angrily at me from across the floor.

I backed up, staying in the corner, away from the basket. I decided to try to keep out of the action as much as possible. Maybe that way I wouldn’t embarrass myself quite so much.

After about five minutes into the first quarter, things started to get weird.

The score was twelve to two, Jefferson.

Judith threw the ball inbounds. She meant to throw it to Anna. But Judith’s toss was weak, and the ball bounced to a short, blond-haired Jefferson player.

I saw Judith yawn as she ran after the girl.

A few seconds later, the ball was loose, bouncing near the center of the court. Anna made a weak grab for it. But she seemed to be moving in slow motion, and the blond Jefferson player snatched it from her hands.

Anna stood watching her, breathing hard, perspiration running down her forehead. I had to stop and stare. Anna looked
exhausted
— and we’d only been playing five minutes!

The Jefferson team dribbled all the way across the floor, passing the ball from girl to girl, as our players stood and watched.

“Let’s go, Mustangs!” Judith cried, trying to rouse everyone. But I saw her yawn again as she walked to the sidelines to throw in the ball.

“Come on, girls! Hustle! Hustle!” Ellen was shouting from the sidelines, her hands cupped around her mouth. “Run, Judith — don’t walk! Let’s look
alive!”

Judith sent another feeble throw onto the floor. It bounced away from a Jefferson player. I scooped it up and started to dribble it, running full speed.

Just outside the key, I stopped, turned, and looked for someone to pass it to.

But to my surprise, my teammates were still far behind me, walking slowly, exhaustedly, in my direction.

As the Jefferson players swarmed around me, trying to take the ball away, I took a shot. It hit the rim of the basket — and bounced right back into my hands.

So I took another shot. And missed again.

Judith raised her hands slowly to catch the rebound. But the ball bounced right through her hands. She frowned in surprise but didn’t make a move to go after it.

I grabbed the ball, dribbled twice, nearly tripped over it — and shot.

To my amazement, the ball bounced on top of the hoop, landed on the rim, and then dropped through.

“Way to go, Sam!” I heard Ellen shout from the sidelines.

My teammates uttered weak cheers. I watched
them go after the Jefferson players, yawning and moving in slow motion, as if in some kind of trance.

“Pick it up! Pick it up!” Ellen was shouting encouragement.

But her words didn’t seem to help.

Judith tripped and fell to her knees. As I stared in bewilderment, she didn’t get up.

Anna was yawning loudly, walking toward the ball, not running.

My two other Mustang teammates also seemed to be wandering hazily in slow motion, making lame attempts to defend our basket.

Jefferson scored easily.

Judith was still on her knees, her eyes half shut.

What on earth is happening?
I wondered.

A long, shrill whistle broke into my thoughts. It took me a while to realize that Ellen had called time out.

“Mustangs — hustle up! Hustle up!” she shouted, motioning for us to cluster around her.

I quickly trotted over to Ellen. Turning back, I saw Judith, Anna, and the others trudging over slowly, yawning, pulling their bodies with great effort.

And as Ellen shouted for everyone to “hustle up,” I watched them wearily approach. Then I realized to my amazement
that my wish had come true!

“What is the matter, girls?” Ellen demanded as we huddled on the sidelines. She glanced from player to player, examining each one with concern.

Anna dropped down wearily to the floor, her shoulders slumped. It looked like she could barely keep her eyes open.

Judith leaned her back against the gym’s tile wall. She was breathing hard, and beads of sweat rolled down her pale forehead.

“Let’s get up some energy,” Ellen urged, clapping her hands. “I thought you girls were
pumped
for this game!”

“There’s no air in here,” one of the players complained.

“I feel so tired,” another one said, yawning.

“Maybe we’re coming down with something,” Anna suggested from down on the floor.

“Do you feel sick, too?” Ellen asked me.

“No,” I told her. “I feel okay.”

Behind me, Judith groaned wearily and tried to push herself away from the wall.

The referee, a high school kid wearing a black- and-white-striped shirt about five sizes too big for him, blew his whistle. He signaled for us to get back out on the floor.

“I don’t understand it,” Ellen sighed, shaking her head. She helped pull Anna to her feet. “I don’t understand it. I really don’t.”

I
understood it.

I understood it perfectly.

My wish had come true. I couldn’t believe it! That strange woman really did have some kind of magical powers. And she had granted my wish.

Only not quite the way I had imagined.

I remembered my words so clearly. I had wished to be the strongest player on the basketball team. That meant I wanted the woman to make me a stronger, better player.

Instead, she had made everyone else
weaker!

I was the same klutzy player I’d always been. I still couldn’t dribble, pass, or shoot.

But I was the strongest player on the team!

How could I have been such a jerk?
I scolded myself angrily as I trotted back to the center of the gym floor. Wishes
never
turn out the way you want them to.

When I reached center court, I turned back and saw Judith, Anna, and the others trudging onto the floor. Their shoulders were slumped, and they
dragged their sneakers over the floor as they walked.

I have to admit I enjoyed it just a little.

I mean, I felt perfectly fine. And they looked so weak and pitiful.

Judith and Anna really deserve it,
I told myself. I tried not to grin as they slumped into their places. But maybe I was smiling just a little.

The referee blew his whistle and called for a jump ball to start things off. Judith and a Jefferson player faced each other at the center circle.

The referee tossed the ball up. The Jefferson girl jumped high. Judith made a real effort. I could see the strain on her face.

But her feet didn’t even leave the floor.

The Jefferson player batted the ball to one of her teammates, and they headed down the floor with it.

I chased after them, running at full speed. But the rest of my team could only walk.

Jefferson scored with an easy layup.

“Come on, Judith — we can catch them!” I shouted, clapping my hands cheerfully.

Judith glared dully at me. Her green eyes looked faded, kind of washed out.

“Pick it up! Pick it up! Let’s go, Mustangs!” I cheered energetically.

I was really enjoying rubbing it in.

Judith could barely bounce the ball inbounds. I picked it up and dribbled all the way down the
floor. Under the basket, one of the Jefferson players bumped me from behind as I tried to shoot.

Two foul shots for me.

It took my slow-motion teammates forever to make their way down the floor to line up.

Of course, I missed both of my foul shots.

But I didn’t care.

“Let’s go, Mustangs!” I shouted, clapping my hands energetically. “Defense! Defense!”

Suddenly, I had become both a player
and
a cheerleader. I was really enjoying being the best player on the team.

Watching Judith and Anna droop around and drag their bodies back and forth like tired losers was the biggest hoot! It was just awesome!

We lost the game by twenty-four points.

Judith, Anna, and the others looked glad it was over. I started to trot to the locker room to get changed, a big smile on my face.

I was nearly changed by the time my teammates dragged into the locker room. Judith walked up to me and leaned against my locker. She eyed me suspiciously.

“How come
you’re
so peppy?” she demanded.

I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I told her. “I feel okay. Same as ever.”

Sweat was pouring down Judith’s forehead. Her red hair was matted wetly against her head.

“What’s going on here, Byrd?” she demanded, yawning. “I don’t get it.”

“Maybe you’re coming down with the flu or something,” I said, trying to hide how much I was enjoying this.

This was
great!

“Ohhh, I’m so tired,” Anna moaned, coming up behind Judith.

“I’m sure you’ll both feel better tomorrow,” I chirped.

“There’s something weird going on here,” Judith murmured weakly. She tried to stare hard at me, but her eyes were too tired to focus.

“See you tomorrow!” I said brightly, picking up my stuff and heading out. “Feel better, guys!”

I stopped outside the locker room door.

They will feel better tomorrow
, I assured myself.
They
’
ll be back to normal tomorrow.

They won’t stay like this — right?

Right??

The next day, the bad news hit me like a ton of bricks.

Judith and Anna weren’t in school the next morning.

I stared at their empty seats as I made my way to my seat in the front row. I kept turning back, searching for them. But the bell rang, and they weren’t there.

Absent. Both absent.

I wondered if the other girls on the team were absent, too.

I felt a cold shiver run down my back.

Were they still weak and tired? Too weak and tired to come to school?

I had a frightening thought:
What if they never returned to normal? What if the magic never wore off?

Then I had an even more frightening thought:
What if Judith and Anna and the others got weaker and weaker? What if they kept getting weaker until they
died —
and it was all my fault?

All my fault. All my fault.

I felt cold all over. My stomach felt as if I’d swallowed a rock. I had never felt so guilty, so horribly guilty, in all my life.

I tried to force these thoughts from my mind, but I couldn’t.

I couldn’t stop thinking that they might
die
because of my careless wish.

I’ll be a
murderer, I told myself with a shudder.
A
murderer.

Sharon, our teacher, was standing right in front of me, talking about something. I couldn’t hear a word she said. I kept turning in my seat, staring back at the two empty chairs.

Judith and Anna — what have I done to you?

At lunch, I told the whole story to Cory.

Of course he just laughed at me. He had a mouthful of grilled cheese and nearly choked.

“Do you believe in the Easter Bunny, too?” he asked.

But I was in no mood for jokes. I was really upset. I stared down at my uneaten lunch and felt sick.

“Please take me seriously, Cory,” I begged. “I know it sounds dumb —”

“You mean you’re for
real?”
he asked, his eyes studying my face. “I thought you were kidding, Sam. I thought this was a story for creative writing or something.”

I shook my head. “Listen, Cory — if you had been at the girls’ basketball game yesterday afternoon, you’d know I’m not kidding,” I said, leaning across the table and whispering. “They were dragging around as if they were sleepwalking,” I told him. “It was so eerie!”

I was so upset, my shoulders started to shake. I covered my eyes to keep myself from crying.

“Okay … let’s think about this,” Cory said softly, his funny, crooked smile fading to a thoughtful frown. Finally, he had decided to take me seriously.

“I’ve been thinking and thinking about it all morning,” I told him, still trying to force back the tears. “What if I’m a
murderer,
Cory? What if they really
die?”

“Sam, please,” he said, still frowning, his dark brown eyes studying mine. “Judith and Anna are probably not even sick. You’re probably making this all up in your mind. They’re probably perfectly okay.”

“No way,” I muttered glumly.

“Oh. I know!” Cory’s face brightened. “We can ask Audrey.”

“Audrey?” Audrey was the school nurse. It took me a while to figure out what Cory was thinking. But I finally did.

He was right. When you were going to be absent, your parents had to call Audrey in the
morning and tell her why. Most likely, Audrey would be able to tell us why Judith and Anna were not in school today.

I jumped up, nearly knocking my chair over. “Great idea, Cory!” I exclaimed. I started running through the lunchroom toward the door.

“Wait! I’ll come with you!” Cory called, hurrying to catch up.

Our sneakers pounded against the hard floor as we made our way down the long hall to the nurse’s office. We found Audrey locking the door.

She is a short, sort of chunky woman, about forty or so, I guess, with bleached-blond hair pinned up in a bun on top of her head. She always wears baggy jeans and shaggy sweaters, never a nurse’s uniform.

“Lunchtime,” she said, seeing us stop beside her. “What do they have today? I’m starving.”

“Audrey, can you tell us why Judith and Anna aren’t in school today?” I demanded breathlessly, ignoring her question.

“Huh?” I was talking so fast, so excitedly, I don’t think she understood me.

“Judith Bellwood and Anna Frost?” I repeated, my heart pounding. “Why aren’t they in school today?”

I saw surprise in Audrey’s pale gray eyes. Then she lowered her gaze.

“Judith and Anna, they’re gone,” she said sadly.