Training Camp

by Kobe Bryant

  Sure enough, Lab walked in soon after, and he too spoke with the professor. Peño looked at him questioningly, but his brother turned away. Peño still had no idea why he was so mad. Why should Peño apologize, anyway? He was the older brother. He did everything for Lab.

  When the entire team had arrived, Rolabi summoned them over to the castle.

  “Today we are working on team defense.”

  “Like . . . zone defense?” Peño asked curiously, his gaze fixed on the trophy.

  It was beautiful—black granite inlaid with gold trim—and stood nearly three feet tall. The names of championship teams were engraved on the sides. Not one said West Bottom Badgers.

  “In time,” he said. “First you have to learn the fundamentals.”

  “Like how to pillage a castle?” Peño asked.

  Rolabi lifted his purse and abruptly turned it upside down. Equipment began to stream out—helmets and pads. Half the items were red, half blue.

  “Take one of each, please,” Rolabi said. “Fasten the helmets tightly.”

  Peño scooped up a random blue helmet. He noticed Lab quickly pick up a red helmet, scowling at him. Clearly, the game was on. Peño grabbed a blue pad, holding Lab’s sullen gaze. The pad was heavy and stiff, and he envisioned himself clobbering his little brother.

  Maybe I can knock some sense back into him, he thought.

  His smile slipped away when he saw Devon pick up a red pad. Now the red team had Devon, A-Wall, Reggie, and Vin—a good-size team, apart from Vin, and even Vin was bigger than Peño. The blue team was definitely outmatched in size: Rain and Jerome were both thin, and Twig was, well, a twig. Their only imposing player was Big John, but even he was not exactly a pillar of balance. That said, Devon had seemed reluctant to use his strength during the scrimmage. Peño was hoping he would come around . . . just not today. He made a mental note to talk to the big lug again later.

  “The game is simple,” Rolabi said. “One team will attack, and the other will defend. The team to get the trophy in the least amount of time wins. The losing team will run laps while the winners shoot around.”

  “How did you get the national championship trophy?” Peño asked. His fingers twitched, desperate to touch the black granite.

  “I borrowed it,” Rolabi said, as if the answer were obvious. “Blue team will defend first.”

  “So . . . like . . . we just push each other with these pads?” Lab asked. “Won’t the strongest team win no matter what?”

  “A fine question,” Rolabi said, nodding. “You have two minutes to plan.”

  Rain led them up the nearest ramp, and Peño examined the fortress as they formed a huddle—the walls were high and smooth, so the only way to the trophy was through the ramps.

  He listened as Rain outlined the plans, trying to envision the drill.

  “What happens if they start switching and I get Devon or something?” he asked.

  Rain waved him away. “We got to talk.”

  Peño nodded, though something was still nagging him.

  “I don’t feel like running laps for another two hours, so let’s win this,” Rain said.

  Peño definitely didn’t feel like running either. “Let’s rock it, boys!”

  Peño hurried down one of the ramps, rolling his shoulders. He heard steps and saw that Rain was close behind him. It seemed Rain was going to back him up first—probably because Peño was the smallest one on the team.

  He saw Lab and the red team standing in a line now, facing them like an advancing army.

  “This is going to be madness,” Peño said. “But it’s kind of awesome.”

  “Agreed,” Rain said. “We’re defending a castle.”

  “We just need some armor and this will be really legit,” Peño mused.

  “Begin!” Rolabi said.

  Peño gasped as the ramp beneath him turned to real creaking wood. The floor around the fortress caved in and filled with water, creating a swamp-like moat. The hardwood on either side of the moat molded and stretched into four bridges that led to each ramp, which were now bordered by walls of coarse, true stone. Blue flags appeared overhead on each corner, fluttering in an unfelt wind, and even Peño’s clothes changed into gleaming steel armor with blue trim. He looked down at himself in amazement.

  “Peño . . .” Rain said.

  “Yeah . . . I see it,” Peño replied numbly. “I had to open my big mouth.”

  “Charge!” Lab screamed, extending his arm like a medieval general.

  The red team split up as expected, and Vin sprinted headlong into Peño and Rain, his armored boots thudding over the bridge. Peño crouched down just as Vin slammed into him. He slid back a few inches but held his ground, using his squat legs like twin support struts. Peño was short, but he was also strong, particularly in his legs, and he knew he could hold Vin by himself.

  “Good luck!” Rain said, clearly thinking the same thing.

  Vin narrowed his eyes and pushed harder, and the two point guards remained locked in an almost perfectly even match of strength. Peño looked up over his pad, shooting Vin a smile.

  “You’re never getting through me, man,” he said.

  Vin smirked. “Never say never.”

  Vin drove forward again. Peño could hear shouting all around him, but he was focused on defending his own ramp. He just had to hope the others were doing their jobs. Footsteps approached, and Peño looked up to see Reggie charging across the wooden bridge, ready to join Vin.

  “Uh-oh,” Peño mumbled.

  Reggie pushed hard into Vin’s back and started to drive Peño up the ramp.

  “I got two!” he shouted, fighting to stop the advance.

  His steel boots didn’t have much grip, and he slid backward rapidly, straining with everything he had to hold his position. His heartbeat hammered in his ears. Rain arrived just before Peño was pushed clean off the ramp, and once again, the attackers’ forward momentum stopped.

  “Push!” Rain shouted, driving hard into Peño’s back to help him defend the ramp.

  They began to drive Vin and Reggie back down, and Peño grinned as the attackers lost all their progress. He could easily hold the ramp with the high ground. The attackers had no chance.

  “A-Wall just took off!” someone shouted.

  “So did Lab!” another called.

  Peño suspected that was bad even before Reggie stood back and smiled.

  “Guys . . .” Jerome called weakly.

  Peño turned as Rain sprinted up the ramp and slid to a halt, eyes wide.

  “Uh-oh,” Rain murmured.

  Peño didn’t even have a chance to move. Rain was knocked flying by the combined charge of Devon, A-Wall, and Lab. At the same time, Reggie and Vin attacked again and sent Peño crashing onto his back. They stepped over him and followed the others up the final ramp to the trophy.

  Peño lay on the ground, exhausted. He had been worried about this exact scenario—the red team had joined up and overwhelmed one defender. It was a fairly obvious strategy, and yet the blue team hadn’t been ready for it at all. He sighed and slowly got to his feet.

  “One minute and forty-seven seconds,” Rolabi said, his voice still carrying over the gym as if from loudspeakers. “Blue team, you will now attack. You have two minutes to prepare.”

  “Let’s go,” Rain said, marching over the nearest bridge toward the benches.

  Peño followed him, taking an uneasy look into the water. Yellow eyes stared back at him.

  “Try not to go swimming,” he muttered to Big John.

  “You don’t got to tell me,” Big John said.

  They formed a huddle and made a quick plan. This drill was incredibly easy for the attackers.

  Peño chuckled. “We’ll have it in thirty seconds!”

  He would soon be holding the trophy. The thought made h
im giddy.

  “Blue on three,” he said, sticking his hand out. “One . . . two . . . three . . . Blue!”

  The team threw their hands up and spread out into an attacking line. Peño shifted in his armored boots. Apparently, Lab had been afraid to take on his older brother, but Peño had no such reservations. He was going to charge Lab’s ramp head-on and send him flying.

  But as the blue team approached the castle, no defenders appeared at the ramps.

  “They can’t even figure out who to put where!” Peño said, laughing.

  “Begin,” Rolabi said.

  “They’re not set up yet!” Rain said. “Follow me in!”

  Peño fell in behind Rain as they sprinted up the closest ramp. Peño was opening his mouth to announce their win when Rain stopped. Peño ran into him, smashing his nose on Rain’s back plate. His eyes flooded with tears as he looked up to see Devon standing at the mouth of the ramp, pad ready. The rest of the red team was lined up behind him—all the way up to the trophy.

  “What the—” Peño said, his voice coming out a bit wheezy.

  With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he realized what they were doing. The red team was protecting the final ramp.

  “Push!” Rain shouted.

  Peño and his teammates drove again and again into the pads, but it was futile. Peño was squeezed between the defenders and his own team shoving behind him. Minutes seemed to go by without a single step gained. Rain wouldn’t stop the battle, even as Peño felt crushed.

  Finally, Devon pushed forward and sent the whole blue team flying. Rain landed on Peño’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Someone’s knee dug into his thigh. He lay there, breathing heavily. Spots appeared in his vision like miniature suns. Another hard loss.

  “The time is beat,” Rolabi said. “The red team wins.”

  Lab picked up the trophy and held it over his head in triumph. Peño climbed to his feet, watching his brother celebrate. It was Peño’s dream to hold that trophy—how many nights had he fallen asleep imagining that exact moment? But there was his brother instead, living Peño’s dream. Peño sensed that he might very well be glimpsing the future. Peño would never hold that trophy. He was too short. Too slow. His shot wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough.

  The thought settled in like a thick fog, and Peño traipsed down the ramp, dejected.

  “The red team may grab some balls and shoot around,” Rolabi said. “Blue team, laps.”

  As Peño stepped over the bridge, the moat drained and the ground rose and leveled into a flat surface again, reforming into dusty hardwood planks. Peño cast his pad and helmet onto the floor in disgust and started running. It was nearly an hour before anyone hit a free throw, and when they finally did, he almost collapsed onto the bench, trying to rub the sting from his eyes.

  “What was this drill about?” Rolabi asked.

  “Team defense,” Peño muttered.

  “Yes. They played as a team. You did not.”

  Peño wiped his face again and took another gulp of his water. He and Lab filled their bottles from the kitchen tap at home. The water came out yellow and smelled like rotten eggs, but it was the best they had. Fairwood wasn’t any better—most of the Bottom seemed to have the same issues. He drained the last drop as Rolabi plucked a small black cap from the side of the fortress. Air began to whoosh out as the entire structure collapsed in on itself. Peño nearly choked on his water. The castle was inflated ?

  In moments the structure was the size of a basketball, nothing but folds of gray rubber, and Rolabi picked it up and dropped it into his bag.

  “What must a defender always be?” the professor asked, turning to them.

  “Ready,” Reggie said.

  “The same goes for the entire team. If you are not ready, we are wasting our time.”

  Rolabi started for the doors.

  “Are we done for today?” Peño asked. He was exhausted, but it wasn’t even noon yet.

  “That is up to you,” Rolabi said.

  He strode through the open doors, and they slammed shut behind him, shaking the gym. Rain suggested a scrimmage, but shouts abruptly filled the room. The orb had returned, and Peño could already feel the chill seeping into his bones.

  “What do we do?” Peño whispered.

  “Rolabi said we had to catch it,” A-Wall said. “He said we would be better basketball players if we did, remember?”

  That was all it took. Twig charged, and the team went after him. Despite their best efforts, the orb eluded them again. At one point, Peño slammed into Lab, and their shoulders clapped together with a painful whack. They both spun and landed on their butts, groaning.

  “Watch out!” Lab shouted.

  “You watch it!” Peño said.

  He climbed back to his feet just as the orb zoomed toward the wall and vanished.

  “Still up for that scrimmage?” Peño asked Rain dryly, rubbing his sore shoulder.

  Rain scowled. “Nah. Let’s just get out of here.”

  Peño didn’t argue. He sat down and started to slip off his shoes. The others launched into conversation, but he didn’t pay much attention. He had failed to catch the orb. Failed to get to the trophy. Failed to win the first scrimmage. Rolabi wanted him to lead, but he could barely do anything right. How could he lead? Rain was way better than him. Lab too. Maybe even Vin.

  He was going to be left behind. Just like he had always suspected.

  He threw on his outdoor shoes, zipped up his ratty old bag, and walked out alone. He was halfway across the parking lot when he heard the doors open again. Lab appeared beside him, falling into step.

  “What do you want?” Peño said, scowling.

  “Why are you so upset?” Lab demanded. “I thought that wasn’t allowed?”

  Peño bristled and turned to him. “This is different. You’ve been sad for three years.”

  “And why do you think that is, genius?”

  “I lost her too,” Peño said, taking a step toward him. “She was my mom too.”

  He emphasized the word, knowing it would get to Lab, not caring. Their eyes met. Peño could see the color flooding into Lab’s face. This time he held his brother’s gaze. Why should Lab have all the pain? Why should he get to be sad? Why did Peño have to take care of the house and take care of him and always be the strong one? It wasn’t fair.

  “You moved on,” Lab said. “You cared more about basketball—”

  Peño shoved him, hard, and Lab stumbled back, barely catching his footing. The moment he recovered, he launched himself at Peño, sending them both to the pavement. Peño felt the air whoosh out of him, gasped, and then rolled to get Lab off him. Everything was a flurry of grabbing arms and kicking legs, and he felt trash beneath him—squishy and stinky and it didn’t matter.

  “You don’t . . . think . . . I . . . miss her?” Peño said, trying to get Lab into a headlock.

  Lab kneed him in the stomach and almost weaseled out of the move. “You . . . don’t . . . get sad,” he managed, his voice a wheeze. “It’s . . . all . . . good. Stop it! You . . . I’ll kick your . . . Stop!”

  They rolled again, and this time Peño used his strength to get on top of Lab and pin him. He was sweating and flushed, but he held both of Lab’s hands down against the concrete for the victory.

  “I miss her every second of the day,” Peño said. “You’re blind if you don’t see that.”

  Lab tried to wrestle his way free, but he was stuck. “Get off me!”

  “Did you ever think I don’t show it because of you?” Peño said. “That maybe I don’t want to remind you or Dad? Did that cross your thick, stupid skull? And maybe I do all the chores to make it easier for you too? Did you think about that?”

  He was screaming now, and Lab stopped squirming, staring up at him.

  “Sometimes it feels l
ike I can’t breathe,” Peño whispered. “Like I’m gonna die. But you didn’t notice that either, did you? At least you get to have hope. I don’t even get that.”

  “What are you talking about—”

  “You get a shot!” Peño shouted. “I don’t. I get to be strong and watch everyone else go on without me.”

  He let go of Lab, roughly wiped his eyes, and stood up.

  “I should teach you a lesson,” Peño said quietly. “But I won’t . . . because of her.”

  He stormed off. As he turned the corner, he glanced back. Lab was still lying in the parking lot. He thought about going back to see if he was okay. He was the older brother. The strong one. He was supposed to take care of him. But he didn’t feel strong, and he was tired of trying to keep Lab and his dad up when nobody did the same for him.

  He turned away and left him there.

  PEÑO RAN BACK to the bench for a quick drink of water. He was warming up hard today, and though he was trying not to make it too obvious, he was working mostly on his left hand. He had promised himself he wouldn’t be humiliated by its ineffectiveness ever again. As a result, he was chasing rim-outs and wild air balls with alarming regularity, and he was already dripping sweat.

  Last night had been . . . unpleasant. Lab and Peño were not talking or looking in each other’s direction. Basically they were avoiding breathing near each other. Peño had cooked dinner—some chickpeas and stringy chicken in corn tortillas—but Lab had gone without.

  Peño didn’t exactly blame him for not eating. It wasn’t easy to make anything too wholesome, since they shopped at an old warehouse called the Last Stop that stocked castoffs from the rest of Dren, but Peño tried to make the best of it. His mom had worked full-time and cooked and raised them both, so he couldn’t exactly complain. Only now that she was gone did he realize how hard that must have been for her, especially considering she had been sick and hiding it from them until the final months. He felt another pang of sadness but pushed it away—he had cried enough yesterday. He chugged some water and glanced upward, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.