Stolen Secrets (11 page)

Chapter 40

Funny what you focus on
while you’re on the bench. Everybody figures you’re champing at the bit to get back in, but I was playing so bad I hoped Coach Baldwin would leave me out. I was thinking about Sam. How could anyone marry the wife of a guy he had killed?

“Timberline, you’re in!”

I ran to the scorer’s table, checked in, and looked at the clock—2:03 remaining. It was 35–33, Coronado. Number 23 was shooting two free throws. He made the first but missed the second. Duncan got the rebound and threw an outlet pass to me.

“Push it up!” Coach yelled. “Go to the middle!”

I sliced between two defenders and headed for the basket. At the foul line, one of their players slapped at the ball and it hit my knee and bounced away. I could only watch, hoping one of their players wouldn’t pick it up and go for a layup at the other end.

Out of nowhere Duncan shot to the sideline and grabbed it just before it went out-of-bounds. He looked over his shoulder, falling out-of-bounds, and tossed it to me right before his feet touched. Three players, including #23, swarmed. I pivoted left but couldn’t find an open man. The ref was about to call five seconds on me when Duncan whistled. I rolled the ball through #23’s legs straight to my teammate. All alone, he stepped to the three-point arc and fired a long shot. The swish of the net was the best thing I had heard since little Wally’s giggle the night before. The ref put both hands in the air. We were tied at 36.

Mr. Swift went wild, flailing his clipboard and hollering, “Yes! Yes!”

We got back into our zone defense quickly and tried to keep the ball from #23. With 33 seconds left, their point guard shoved a bounce pass toward the big guy and he gathered it in. He faked left, turned right, and hit a layup.

“That’s okay,” Coach said during a time-out. “We have 30 seconds to get off a good shot. You’ve fought them tough all the way. Let’s finish well.” He diagrammed a play I had seen a hundred times. Duncan throws to the open man, then goes straight to the basket where he takes a pass and lays it in. Nine times out of 10, the defense forgets about him and Duncan has an easy layup.

I fought my way through a screen and got open. Duncan threw me the ball and went for the basket. Number 23 came out and blocked the passing lane. Duncan waved at me, but it was too late. A defender picked him up.

Before I could pass, #23 knocked the ball out of my hands. It slammed to the floor and bounced high, heading out-of-bounds. But #23 jumped, grabbed the ball, and threw it at me. Hard. I tried to duck, but the ball bonked off my face and out-of-bounds.

Their ball.

Only 22 seconds left.

And there was blood on the court.

Mine.

My eyes watered, and I saw little white things swimming in front of me. Someone handed me a towel, helped me up, and walked me back to the bench. I could tell by the boots that it was Sam. The parents clapped, but Mr. Swift was yelling at the refs.

One of the moms gave me an ice pack for my nose. My teammates patted me on the back. If I hadn’t felt like I had a basketball growing out of my nose, I would have enjoyed the attention.

Coronado hit two more foul shots and won 40–36. We all lined up to slap hands and say, “Good game.” I was the last player in our line, and #23 was the last in theirs.

He stopped and shook his head. “Hey, man, sorry. I was trying to bounce it off your leg, not your face.” His voice was high, even higher than mine. He put a hand on my shoulder. “No hard feelings?”

I shook my head. “Ith all righ” was all I could manage.

Chapter 41

Bryce’s nose looked like a red cucumber.
A faint backward imprint of the word
Spalding
ran across his forehead. I was sorry I’d missed the game. I like to be there for Bryce, but I love watching Duncan Swift. Not that I have a thing for him or anything. I just think he’s good. Well, maybe I like him a little, but he doesn’t know I exist.

Bryce went to his room with an ice pack. Dylan asked for his own, so I put ice cubes in a plastic bag for him. He came to Bryce’s room holding the ice bag and pressing three Band-Aids on his nose.

Bryce smiled, then winced.

When we were alone, I told him what Mr. Crumpus had told me about the guy who attacked Tracy and Cammy.

Bryce sat up. “What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know. It’s something about their story.”

“You’re just ticked about what Cammy said to you in the bathroom.”

I shook my head. “It’s more than that. Mr. Crumpus said something about an accident. Maybe we can find out more from Danny’s parents.”

“How are you going to get to them?”

“The fund-raiser for the dance studio. We’re selling candles. If I can talk Mom into letting us go over there tomorrow on our ATVs, will you go?”

Bryce lifted the ice bag. “I’m there. I can use my nose as a headlight.”

I found Mom in the kitchen, but before I could bring up the ATVs, she asked if I would go to the freezer in the barn and get two pizzas. I discovered the freezer strangely empty. There was only one bag of frozen corn.

“I bought four pizzas last week,” Mom said. “Are you sure you looked carefully?”

I nodded. “But I can check again.”

“No, that’s okay. You look like you want to ask me something.”

Chapter 42

Jeff’s mom offered
to get me some ice for my nose, but my face already felt like a cherry snow cone. I put my sleeping bag and pillow down in their entryway.

Mrs. Alexander put a hand on my shoulder. “I don’t think Jeff is up to a sleepover as it turns out, but he wants you to stay for a while. I can take you home later, after dark.”

I found Jeff in his bedroom, looking through photos of people on bikes. He seemed tired, with circles under his eyes. He called me Rudolph the rest of the night and smiled weakly.

He closed the door and sat on his bed. “I can’t talk to everybody about this, Timberline, but I figure you can handle it.”

“Why?”

“Because of what happened to your dad. Lots of Christians give me all the verses they’ve memorized and tell me God’s good. I know he is, but that didn’t make my chemo any less painful.”

I sat in a beanbag chair and looked at my hands. “I don’t like it when you talk like this.”

He cocked his head. “We’re all gonna die, Bryce. Some a little faster than others, but we’ve all got to go through it.”

He handed me a quote from some comedian. It read, “It’s not that I’m afraid to die. I just don’t want to be there when it happens.”

I had to laugh. “So what are you thinking?” I said.

He pointed to the bicycle pictures. “There’s this race, actually more of an endurance test. All the money they raise goes for cancer research.”

The pictures showed people in colorful uniforms biking up hills, rock formations, and lonely trails. Some were riding because family members had died. Others just wanted to lend their support.

“It’s something I want to do this summer if I’m strong enough.”

He was having a hard time talking, let alone biking all those miles.

“I know I can’t do it by myself, and my dad can’t go because of his back problems. So I asked my parents if you and I could go together.” A fire lit in his eyes, and he leaned closer. “There’s this special bike two people can ride.”

“A tandem.”

“Yeah. They can fit it with oxygen or whatever we need. Would you go with me? You get to camp out at night by the trail. My parents would drive the minivan, and we could sleep in there.”

“Why me?” I said.

“It’s something we can look back on and laugh about. Plus, the more time you spend with a person, the better you get to know them. I figure if I go to heaven before you do, I could see your dad and tell him all the stuff you’ve been doing.”

I looked at the pictures again, at the smiling kids with pasty white skin. They looked really alive. I thought about Sam. I’d been spending more time with him, but I still felt like I didn’t know him at all.

“You won’t even need a tandem,” I said. “You’d beat me by a couple of miles.”

Mrs. Alexander drove me home, and the more I thought about the bike trip, the better I liked the idea. It would give Jeff something to look forward to. I hoped he wouldn’t wind up being too weak to go.