Jump Shot (9 page)

“I've got another column I want to write,” Tiki told Laura.

“Is this in answer to
another
letter you wrote yourself?” she asked with a crooked grin.

He handed her the letter—typed this time—signed
“Crushed.”

She read it out loud.
“Dear Tiki, I am doing a group project with someone whose parents just got divorced, and he's all upset about it. That would be bad enough, but what's worse is, he's making life miserable for everyone around him. This group project is the most important thing a lot of us have ever been involved in, and he's ruining it for us. If he doesn't stop it soon, it will be too late, and the whole project will be a failure. What should I tell him? Sincerely, ‘Crushed.' ”
Laura squinted, then looked up at Tiki. “Honestly.
‘Crushed'
?”

“Hey, that's the name they used.”

“I don't know,” Laura said. “It's a little too much like the last one. Different, but the same in a kind of way, if you know what I mean. I've got a pile of others you can pick from.”

“Listen,” Tiki said, “you liked my column last time, didn't you?”

“Of course I did!” she said, smiling.

“So, then trust me, okay?” he said. “This one will be even better.”

“Not that I
really
trust you, but go ahead,” she said with a shrug. “What do I care so long as it reads well. But come on, Tiki—you can be honest with me—this is about the same kid, right? Same as the last letter—what was it . . . ?
‘Perplexed'
?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Come on,” she said. “First of all, there's all this talk about a group, and a project, and a kid acting badly.”

“So? That could be a coincidence!” Tiki sighed. “Anyway, what do you care?”

“I don't—but come on, you can tell me. It is the same kid, isn't it?”

“Okay, yes, yes it is. Now can I leave? I've got to get to my job at the warehouse.”

“Okay, okay, wait, wait, don't tell me . . . this is Kevin O'Hara, isn't it?”

“Who?”

“Oh, come on, I wasn't born yesterday,” said Laura, pleased with herself. She waved a hand at him. “You can't fool me. It's all about ‘the group.' Kevin's the lead in the play, his parents are getting divorced, and I hear he's been a real pain to work with.”

“Uh . . . I can't say if it's him or not,” said Tiki, glad she was off on the wrong trail. For a minute there, he was sure she'd guessed who the columns were really about!

“Don't worry,” she said, “my lips are sealed. ZZZZZZIP!” She pretended to zip her lips shut, but Tiki knew that Laura would soon share her “secret” with at least a dozen other people, all of whom would then share it with their closest friends, who of course would never tell a soul. Soon, the whole school would know.

Except they'd be wrong.

Oh, well—poor Kevin.
Tiki barely knew the kid, but he didn't feel too badly. After all, it was Laura, not him, who'd said it was Kevin. He had neither confirmed nor denied, and she'd drawn her own conclusions.

To Tiki, the most important thing was that Sugar's identity remained secret.

“You know, divorce doesn't have to be the worst thing in the world,” Laura went on, just as Tiki was about to grab his book bag and get out of there. “Sometimes, it's even a good thing.”

“Huh?” He turned back around to face her. “I don't get it. How's that possible?”

“Well, just for instance,” she said, “
my
parents broke up a long time ago—and
thank goodness!
”

“What?!”

Laura waved her hand dismissively, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “They
never
got along,” she said. “Always screaming at each other,
and
at me . . . things are much better now. Quieter, and everyone gets along. I see my dad twice a month, and it's always very cool. We have fun. He and my mom are even nicer to each other now that they don't live together. Nobody fights, and I still feel like I have both my parents.”

Tiki nodded slowly. “You know,” he told Laura, “I think you just gave me the hook for my column. Thanks!” He grabbed his book bag. “Gotta run—can't be late for work!”

•  •  •

“She said it was actually good that it happened!” Tiki exclaimed.

“Wow,” Ronde said, before stuffing another whole ravioli into his mouth. “Mphfgm.”

“So I'm thinking, I'm going to write another column, just for Sugar, all about making the best of a bad situation, for the good of the family and the team. The paper comes out on Friday. That's the day of the next game, so your job is to get him to read it before he goes out on the court.”

“I don't know,” Ronde said. “He may not even be talking to me anymore.”

“Come on,” Tiki said. “You've got practice tomorrow. Tell him you're sorry you stuck your nose in his business. He'll forgive you.”

“I'm not so sure. He's pretty ticked off at the world right now, let alone me.”

“You know, other people have problems besides Sugar,” Tiki said. “Look at Ralphie. He's got even worse problems! And he
never
gets mad, or treats anyone like dirt.”

“It's different,” Ronde said. “Sugar's a
star
.
Everyone
knows him and wants to be his friend.”

“Except the kids on the team,” Tiki pointed out. “They've all had it with him.”

“I know,” said Ronde. “That's what I'm afraid of. We need them to get their heads in the game and contribute to the team!”

“Just make sure he reads my column,” Tiki said. “If anything will change Sugar's mind now, it's what I'm going to write.”

“If you say so,” Ronde said. “I just hope it's not too late.”

Something was wrong. Ronde could tell right away. Usually, when he entered the locker room, there was a buzz of conversation, along with some laughter. Today, it was dead silent. Kids were looking at one another with wide, anxious eyes.

“Man, you just missed it,” Rory said as Ronde looked his way.

“What? What'd I miss?”

“The fight of the century,” said Bobby Dominic. “Sugar went ape on Dave Bassin.”

“WHAT?”

“Dave's on his way to the nurse's office, and Sugar's with the dean,” Rory explained. “He hit him right in the eye.”

“Whoa,” said Ronde, sinking down onto the bench in front of his locker. “What happened? Who started it?”

“I was standing right there when it happened,” said Larry Budnick, the team's starting power forward. “Dave said something about what a brat Sugar was being, and how his parents must have been sleeping on the job bringing him up—and suddenly, with, like, no warning, Sugar went off on him. Before Bassin even knew what hit him, he'd taken a punch in the eye, and Sugar was looking for more.”

“Rory and I were barely able to hold him back,” Bobby confirmed.

“Where was Coach all this time?” Ronde wondered aloud.

“He separated them as quick as he could,” said Larry. “But Dave had a bloody nose, and he said he was seeing blurry, so . . .”

“Man, that is
baaad
news,” Ronde said, shaking his head. He couldn't see any way now for the team to come together.

Yet as bad as things were, they were about to get even worse.

Coach Jackson came into the locker room looking stern and worried. They all gathered around him, clamoring to hear the latest news. “Sugar's suspended for three days,” said the coach. “He's lucky he wasn't thrown off the team altogether, if you ask me.”

Ronde nodded. If it had been any other player, he
would
have been off the team, no doubt about it. But
the Eagles were built around Sugar and his talent. If he were taken off the team, the rest of the season would surely go right down the drain.

“How's Dave?” Ronde asked.

Coach Jackson shook his head. “Better, but still seeing a little blurry out of that one eye. He'll have to miss this week's game too.”

A moan went up from the players. “What are we going to do?” Bobby said. “Bassin was Sugar's backup. Now we don't have a single point guard on our roster!”

“Yes we do,” said the coach, and he looked right at Ronde. “You may not be much of a shooter, kid, but you can handle the ball as well as anybody—and you're a good passer, too.”

Ronde felt pleased to be singled out for praise, but he knew it was also a heavy responsibility, stepping in for a talent like Sugar Morton.

“So if Ronde's moving over to point, who's our second shooting guard?” Rory wondered. “And who's going to back him up at point?”

The lightbulb went off in all their minds at the same time. “Tiki!” the shout went up.

“Oh, wait a minute, I don't know,” Ronde warned. “He's pretty busy with his job and the school paper. . . .”

But even as he said it, he knew his twin would find a way somehow. If there was a team that needed him,
there was nothing in this world that could keep Tiki Barber from answering the call.

For Ronde, it was an exciting prospect. No matter how bad the news was about Sugar and Dave, no matter how much of a challenge it presented for the rest of the team—for the Barber boys, this would be a signature moment.

The two of them, out on the court together, part of their school basketball team!

Ronde knew it would be tough. He had never led a basketball team before, except in his wildest dreams, fooling around in the driveway by himself or with Tiki, and sometimes with Paco and their other friends from the neighborhood. Ronde or Tiki would offer up a play-by-play featuring their pretend heroics. It was fun—and only that.

This would be the real deal.

Ronde floated through practice, almost as if he were playing the part of the star point guard in a movie about the Hidden Valley Eagles.

He could feel the rest of the team come alive around him too. Bobby, Rory, Larry—everyone who'd basically been standing around all season while Sugar lit up the scoreboard. Suddenly, even though it was only practice, they were playing with passion and excitement!

They all knew this next game would be their big
chance to prove themselves, to show everyone what a team without a star can accomplish, to take those key shots with the clock winding down, and to notch a historic victory for their school and their team.

“That was awesome!” Rory said between panting breaths as they got back to the locker room after practice.

“Best we've ever played,” Bobby agreed breathlessly. “Too bad it wasn't a real game.”

“We've got to carry this forward,” Ronde urged. “This is who we are, guys. We are
for real
. Like my mama says, we've got to go out there and
play proud!
”

“PLAY PROUD!!” they all repeated, over and over again, and the chant was so loud, it made the lockers shake.

•  •  •

“Me? Really?”

Ronde could see that Tiki was as excited as he was at the thought of rejoining the team.

“I mean, that stinks about Sugar,” Tiki said. “And especially about Dave Bassin.”

“The doctor said his eye will be okay in a few days,” Ronde assured him. “And as for Sugar . . . well, I feel bad for him, but maybe this is what will finally wake him up.”

“I've got something else that might wake him up,”
Tiki said, fishing out a big envelope. “Or at least, give him reason to hope.”

“Your column?”

“Uh-huh. It'll be out in the school paper tomorrow afternoon.”

Ronde took it and read it through. He quickly saw that Tiki had taken care with every word.

Dear “Crushed,”

I know how frustrating it must be to see your whole group suffer on account of one person's suffering. But the only way to save the situation is to be honest with him (or her). Tell him that divorce is tough on kids, but that a whole lot of kids go through it, and it's probably no easier for them.

Also, a lot of times, things can be fine after a split, once everybody gets their own act together. If everyone can stay friendly, he might get to see a lot of both his parents. And his parents might be happier than before (nothing like having happy parents!).

Tell him to hang in there and be patient with both
his parents. They're probably having a tough time too. And tell him to remember—in the end, things may still turn out really well, as long as everyone treats everyone else with love and respect.

Tell him your group project is also important, and that the rest of you in the group are like a temporary family. Taking his troubles out on the rest of you is just dooming that family to failure.

Tell him to try to set his own troubles aside, at least while he's with the group. And tell him you care about him, too. That's what makes the difference in the end—people caring about one another.

All the best, and good luck. Your friend, Tiki.

“This is great,” Ronde said. “I'm going to make sure Sugar gets to see it.”

“How're you going to do that?” Tiki asked. “He's suspended for three days, right?”

“This can't wait,” Ronde said firmly. “Leave it to me.” He glanced at the envelope again.

“Don't worry,” Tiki assured him. “It can't hurt him any worse than he's already hurt himself. And it might just help him turn this funk of his around.”

Ronde nodded. He put the column back in its envelope. “You got a copy?”

Tiki nodded. Then he took a breath and blew it out. “Hey, Ronde?”

“Yeah?”