Break for the Basket (8 page)

They began to drive, led by Emmett’s spark. Rusty dumped in a long set, Emmett a layup. Mickey’s fancy, close-to-the-floor
dribbling had the Icebergs baffled. The quarter ended with the Penguins leading, 8 to 4.

“I’m going to remember what Mr. G. has told me,” Emmett promised himself. “I can’t be afraid. I’ll just play hard, and play
the best I can.”

The Icebergs crept up slightly in the second quarter. In the third the Penguins rolled again. Ed Long put Johnny Clark in
Mickey’s place. Johnny fouled a man almost immediately. The Icebergs’ player tossed in both free throws. A minute later Johnny
made up for
his foul, sinking a long shot that drew loud applause from the fans.

The fourth quarter was even scoring for both teams. The Penguins put the game into their pocket, 32 to 26.

“Now for the Kodiaks!” cried Robin Hood, as they ran to the shower room. “We can take them.”

“They’re tough,” said Rusty. “Toughest in the league. The last time we played them we beat them by only one point. And they
have improved.”

“The tougher they are, the harder they fall,” quoted Robin Hood. “Besides, we have improved, too.”

A heavy snowfall kept Emmett home all that next week, except for attending school. All that time he wondered about Mr. G.
He hadn’t seen Mr. G. since the little redhead had painted Emmett’s picture.

The game with the Kodiaks rolled around quickly. Both teams looked strong and eager for the win as they came out on the court
in their flashy uniforms, the Kodiaks in their red shirts and white trunks, the Penguins in their black satin suits.

The jump ball. The horn. The game was on. The Kodiaks took possession of the ball immediately. Seconds later they dumped in
a basket. Penguins’ ball. They moved it downcourt. A layup missed for Rusty. The Kodiaks took the ball off the boards and
rolled back upcourt — a pass, a short dribble, a pivot, then a shot. Swish! Another bucket.

Robin called time. He talked to his men. “Stop that Number 13,” he said. “He’s dead-eye!”

Time in. The Penguins moved cautiously now. Rusty
passed to Robin, Robin to Emmett. A quick overhand to Rusty as the tall center ran for the basket. Rusty caught the ball and
leaped. A layup!

That broke the spell. Both teams continued playing good ball, sinking baskets that drew applause after applause from the crowd.
The score on the electric scoreboard teetered back and forth like a seesaw, first in the Kodiaks’ favor, then in the Penguins’.

The quarters blinked off, one by one. Finally, a minute was left in the last quarter, with the Penguins leading, 39 to 38.

Kodiaks’ ball. They passed upcourt. Emmett followed the ball closely. Then, like a quick, silent cat, he moved in and stole
the ball!

He dribbled toward the center line. The Kodiaks came after him. He continued to dribble, matching Mickey, who was good at
dribbling, too. He moved to the right, left, then right again — always keeping himself between the ball and an opponent.

“Get that ball! Get it before the clock runs out!” he heard a Kodiak man shout.

But they didn’t get it. The horn blew, announcing the end of the game. The Penguins were the champs.

On his way home from the game with his family, Emmet stopped at Mr. G.’s apartment and knocked on the door. No answer.

A window slid open above his head.

“Is that you, Emmett?” said Mrs. Maxwell. “No use
knocking. He hasn’t been here in a week. Wish he’d stop in for a minute. Got a letter for him.”

“A letter?” echoed Emmett.

“Yes. Just hold on a second.” Mrs. Maxwell left. She soon returned with a letter and handed it to Emmett. “Don’t think it’s
important. Looks like one of those advertisements. Take it. Maybe you’ll see him before I do.”

Emmett looked the letter over. It had a local postmark. In the upper lefthand corner was the name and address of the Fenway
Museum of Art.

“I
MUST FIND
M
R
. G.,” said Emmett. “I must!”

But where could he look? Who knew where Mr. G. had gone? Perhaps he had gone back to New York. Emmett didn’t want to believe
that. Mr. G. wouldn’t possibly go away permanently without saying goodbye to his best friend, would he? An idea flashed through
Emmett’s mind. The Sunset Spa. Mary Lee could tell him if Mr. G. had been in there recently.

Mary Lee recognized Emmett the moment he stood at the ice cream bar. “Hi! All alone today?”

Emmett smiled. “I am right -now,” he said. “You remember Mr. G., don’t you?”

“Mr. G.?” Her cheeks dimpled. “Yes, I do. Matter of fact, if you’re looking for him, you might still catch him. He left here
less than five minutes ago.”

Emmett’s brows shot up. “He did? Where did he go? Did he say?”

“He said he was on his way home. But first, he wanted to stop at the museum.”

“The museum?” Emmett’s heart started to pound. “Thank you!”

He ran out of the door and all the way up the street to the museum without stopping. He pulled open the large door and walked
in, breathing hard. The place was crowded with people — men, women, and children.

Emmett began walking through the huge rooms, looking at everyone. The people were admiring the paintings on the walls and
the sculptures on tables placed throughout the building.

At last something bright and red attracted Emmett’s eye. Emmett ran forward, brushing people’s arms and almost knocking down
a little girl in his haste.

“’Scuse me!” he said.

Then he was standing beside Mr. G., who was looking at a painting of a covered bridge with a longing expression in his eyes.
“Mr. G.!” said Emmett breathlessly. “I’ve been looking for you! Where have you been?”

“Emmett! My friend, you’re all out of breath!” Mr. G. put out his hand, and Emmett grasped it. “I was on a trip up north.
Was snowed in, couldn’t get back till this morning. Sorry I didn’t get to your basketball games, Emmett. How did you make
out?”

Emmett smiled proudly. “We’re champs of the D Division. We beat the Icebergs and then the Kodiaks.”

“Well, for little birds you Penguins sure conquered some mighty monsters. Now tell me why you were so anxious to find me.”

Emmett drew the letter out of his coat pocket. “This
is for you, Mr. G.,” he said. “Mrs. Maxwell gave it to me.”

Mr. G. read the return address. “Hm-mm,” he murmured. “What could this be?”

He opened one end of the envelope and pulled out the letter. He began to read silently. Then he cried out: “Emmett, what’s
this? Listen! ’Congratulations! Your painting,
Basketball Boy
, has won first prize in the regional art show. Enclosed is our check for five hundred dollars’!”

Emmett’s eyes dimmed. A lump stuck in his throat. “Golly, Mr. G.!” he said.

“Emmett, you had that painting,” said Mr. G., wide blue eyes staring. “It was you —”

Emmett nodded, and swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yes, Mr. G. I knew about the contest. Remember, I told you about it,
but you wouldn’t listen. I entered the painting for you. That is, Dad helped me. I thought it was very good. Mom and Dad thought
it was, too. And look what happened. You won, Mr. G.! You won first prize!”

“Yes. Yes, I won. It’s hard to believe, Emmett. I feel as if I’m dreaming all this.” Mr. G.’s eyes became moist. He pulled
the check out of the envelope. “Five hundred dollars! It’s amazing, Emmett. I thought sure I was finished. I owe it to you,
Emmett. You have restored my life. You have given me back the courage I needed. How can I ever thank you, Emmett?”

Emmett smiled. “You helped me, too, Mr. G. You
saved my life once. And you gave me courage to play basketball. I guess we’re even, Mr. G.”

Mr. G. laughed. “Come. Let’s see where that painting is.”

They found it in the next room. But they couldn’t get anywhere near it. Too many people were standing in front of the picture,
looking at it, admiring it.

“I can barely see the ribbon pinned to it,” said Mr. G. “But, jumping jack rabbits! I’m wasting time here! Let’s go home!
I must get started on another one!”

“Not me,” said Emmett. “I’m going to get the Penguins to come see the painting!”

Emmett
wants
to play basketball. Then why is he so afraid every time he plays an important game? Why does he just stand on the court like
a wax dummy?

The only one who seems to understand his feelings is the strange man who lives next door. Then Emmett discovers his friend
is going away …