His chest pass to Jay was sloppy. Jay fumbled and the other team grabbed the ball. In one quick pick-and-go, they scored. 16–10.
“Game!”
When the action at the other end of the gym stopped, the coach called the players together. “Couple more practices before we face MacLeod,” he said. “Hope those guys’ll be ready for us because we’re ready for them. Am I right?”
Everyone cheered and a few players gave each other high-fives.
“And I guess I don’t need to remind you that we’re in charge of running things at the dance tonight. Everyone knows what they signed up for. Remember to wear your jerseys over your clothes. Keep a high profile. Rockets get half the take at the door and the canteen, so I’m expecting all of you to do the work and show our gratitude.”
After practice, Jay helped Brendan stack the balls on the racks in the storage room.
“I know what Colin was doing out there,” said Brendan. “He was trying to make you look bad. No one could’ve caught that last pass.”
“He’s just in a bad mood. He’ll get over it.” Jay knew this really wasn’t true.
“You should say something to Coach Willis.”
“It’d probably make it worse. Let’s see how things work out.”
“It’s your call.”
“How what works out?” Coach Willis walked into the storage room, his clipboard in his hand.
“Uh, nothing, Coach,” said Jay.
“Looks pretty serious for nothing.”
A couple of seconds of silence filled the gap before Coach Willis spoke again. “Right. I get the picture. It’s something for the captain and the manager to sort out. I’m okay with that. But whatever this is, don’t wait until it’s too late before you fill me in.”
“For sure, Coach,” said Jay.
Coach Willis handed the clipboard to Brendan. “I need you to count basketballs. I have two columns here — one for balls that’re okay for practice and one for the game balls. If any are in bad shape, put them in my office.”
“I’ll give him a hand,” said Jay.
When Coach Willis left the storage room and was safely out of earshot, Jay said, “Thanks for not saying anything about Colin.”
“Just doing what you asked me to.” Brendan picked up a soft basketball and checked the seams. He tossed it on the floor.
Jay picked up a blue and white game ball, gave it a thorough check, and put it back on the shelf.
When the count was finished and Brendan had locked the storage room, he turned to Jay. “What’d you sign up for at the dance?”
“Clean-up.”
“I’m on tickets. I gotta be there early.”
“Most guys’ll go early. Keep a high profile, like Coach says.”
***
Everyone who lived far from the school depended on getting a drive to dances, usually from parents but sometimes from older sisters or brothers. Cars pulled into the driveway that curved in front of the school’s main entrance, and three or four people spilled out of each one. Jay’s mother dropped off Jay and Kyung on her way to evening rounds at the hospital.
Mr. Haley was beside the ticket table, greeting everyone and teasing whoever he could. Two girls dressed the same — pink tops, black skirts, black shoes — were in front of Jay and Kyung, getting their tickets. “Do you ladies go to this school? I don’t remember registering twins this year.” Then he tossed a smile at Kyung. “Ready to teach us some Korean dance moves, Kyung?”
“It is the same as Canadian dancing, sir. Not complicated.”
The gym was soon packed with people dancing, some with partners but most just joining the crowd, doing their own thing. Music blasted out from two huge speakers and lights flashed colour on the dancers. The DJ checked his playlist and took requests from the groupies in front of the stage.
Everyone seemed up for partying. Kyung crammed himself inside the mass of dancers and was soon lost in the blast and beat of the music. His fists jabbed the air above his head, his black and orange hair tossing wildly with every unpredictable move he made.
But Jay wasn’t really in the party mood. The stuff that had happened that day still messed up his brain. He stood in a shadow at the side of the gym, listening and watching.
After a while, he headed to the canteen. Behind the counter was Coach Willis . . . and Colin. Quite a few people were waiting to be served. Jay tried to stay on the side closest to Coach Willis, but that didn’t work. When his turn came, the coach was leaning into the fridge, clanging through cans of pop to find what someone had asked for.
Colin served the person next to Jay before he finally turned to him. “Yeah?”
“I’ll take a ginger ale and chips, plain. Please.” He tried to keep his voice neutral.
Colin put the pop and chips on the counter and picked up Jay’s change.
Suddenly, an odd feeling washed over Jay. It wasn’t worry, anger, or even frustration. It was the kind of calm that comes when all of a sudden, you realize something is true. No blurred lines. Why should this guy keep on being such a jerk and get away with it like no one sees what’s going on? “Whatever’s bugging you, you need to get over it,” Jay said.
“What’re you talking about?” said Colin, angrily.
“Stop trying to mess things up for the Rockets.”
“I’m not trying to mess things up!” Colin’s voice had raised a few more decibels and people around them were beginning to stare. “You’re the one hoping the Rockets will lose to your Cougars.”
Coach Willis put two cans of pop down on the counter. “Gentlemen, we need to have a conversation. Be in Mr. Haley’s office in five minutes. Jay, find Randall and David and ask them to take over canteen duty.”
When they met in the principal’s office, Coach Willis shut the door quietly behind them and pulled three chairs together. “Now, it’s not like I don’t have a pretty good idea what’s going on here. But I’ll give you both a chance to talk and all of us will listen. No interruptions. Who wants to start?”
Jay looked down at his hands.
Colin was silent.
Coach Willis waited a couple of seconds, then spoke. “Okay. If you guys don’t want to talk, I will. This is not a good situation. Here I have my team captain and the guy who’s our MVP. Instead of two players setting the bar right up there as a model for everyone else on our team, what’ve I got? Two guys acting like tomcats in an alley.” He stood up. “Tell you what. I’m going to leave you here a while by yourselves. You can work this out, or you can just sit here saying nothing. That’s up to you. But until I come back into this office, you’re going nowhere. Bottom line is, if you guys can’t get past this personal conflict, then you can’t do your best job for the Rockets. I have the rest of my team to think about.”
When the door closed, Colin leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, still silent. Jay rubbed his hand across his mouth, then leaned back and closed his eyes. They could hear the blast and thud of music coming from the gym.
Jay thought of Kyung dancing, oblivious to everyone around him, having a great time. Right now, he envied that guy .
A few minutes went by. Colin shifted in his chair and cleared his throat. He blew a gust of air from his mouth. Still he said nothing.
Jay heaved a sigh and looked around the office. On the wall above Mr. Haley’s desk was a huge poster of a golf course with the sun coming up, or maybe going down, through trees at the top of a hill. He studied every detail — the pond in the foreground, the greens, the sand traps shaped like kidney beans, the golf cart going along a dirt trail, a couple of guys standing around waiting for the guy in the middle to make a put shot. Maybe Mr. Haley golfed there. Everyone knew he was nuts about golf so —
Colin got up and walked out.
When Coach Willis came back into the office, he
asked the obvious question. “Where’s Colin?”
“I don’t know. He just walked out a couple minutes ago.”
“Did you guys talk?”
“No.”
“I’m not surprised. But I am disappointed.” The coach didn’t sit down. “You’re the captain, Jay. I expected you to take the ball and run with it. There’s tension between you and Colin. Am I wrong?”
“No. I don’t know. Maybe it won’t turn into anything.” Jay wasn’t even convincing himself. “Colin’s been like this ever since I played those games for Centreville. He’s calling me a traitor. That’s crazy.”
“And now that you’re team captain, the tension’s turned up a notch.”
“Yeah, seems like.”
“Well, right now, I got a bone to pick with Colin because of leaving this room when I told him to stay until I got back. As team captain, you need to know that if Colin can’t get control of his negative attitude, he’s at risk of being cut from the team. This situation is threatening to drain our competitive energy. We might need Colin’s basketball talent, but not more than we need a cohesive team.”
***
When the DJ had packed up and left, and everyone on clean-up had transformed the gym back to normal, Jay switched off the lights. Instead of clanging the large doors shut, he stood in the hall looking through the darkness, past the slice of light spilling into the gym. He walked to the end of the triangle of light and kept going until he was standing at the centre of the basketball court. Dark and deserted, the gym wasn’t at all like it was in the daytime — the place where he had learned to play basketball, where he had sweated through all those practices, and where he had showed Coach Willis that he was team material.
Now he was team captain.
He pictured the Rockets there with him, wearing their blue and white jerseys, tuned into the game. Passing the ball swiftly up the floor, getting into position, setting up the play under the basket, then scoring before the opposition knew what was happening. A buzzer ending a championship game. High-fives all around.
“Is that you in there, Jay?” Kyung’s voice interrupted the silence.
“Yeah.”
“Are you okay?”
“Sure, I’m okay. Just doing some thinking.” Jay walked toward Kyung and into the light.
“Your mother will soon come to get us. We should go outside to wait.”
“Right.” He closed the gym doors.
If Colin can’t get control of his negative attitude, he’s at risk of being cut from the team. That warning was more than just information passed along, coach to captain. Coach Willis was telling Jay that if he had a way to prevent the cut from happening, he’d better move fast. Maybe Coach Willis was willing to cut their MVP and risk losing the championship, but Jay wasn’t.
6
Downsized Rockets
Jay woke Saturday morning to the sound of Rudy barking in the yard and Sam shouting, “No barking!” even though shouting never worked if the neighbour’s cat was involved. Jay got out of bed and looked outside. There was the black cat, stepping slowly along the fence, ignoring the barking dog just a leap away.
Eventually, the cat jumped down into its own yard.
Eventually, Rudy stopped barking.
Jay grabbed his jeans off the floor and hauled them on. He wanted to make a call before breakfast. It was something he’d been thinking about since last night. “Hey, Kyung. It’s me. Jay. You want to go to Centreville Monday morning? It’s the start of lobster season, and we go every year to watch the boats leave the cove — Dad, me, Sam, and Mom, and Gramp, my grandfather. We’d have to pick you up by six because the boats leave at seven sharp. What do you think?”
“I think yes!”
Jay changed into his running gear and headed to Veterans Memorial Park a few of blocks away. At least a couple times a week, he ran there, working on endurance and speed. The dirt paths through the wooded park were great for running — no sneakers slamming against pavement, no chance of ending up with an injury.
As he passed the duck pond, he thought about how Colin used to jog in that same park with him when they were trying out for the basketball team in grade seven. Colin was almost always way ahead, yelling, “Come on! Run like you mean it.” Sometimes, after the run, he’d encourage Jay by saying things like “Speed’s not everything. Your ball handling’ll land you on the team.”
It was almost impossible for Jay to picture Colin like that now. He sees basketball more like a war zone. Enemies and allies. Losers and winners, thought Jay. And Colin had to be a winner. Losing the team captain vote was a bigger deal for Colin than for most guys. But holding a grudge against Jay didn’t make sense.
When he got back to the duck pond, Jay glanced at his watch to check his timing. He was slow, probably because he wasn’t concentrating enough on running.
***
The streets of Richmond were quiet and dark as Jay’s family arrived to pick up Kyung, who was waiting on the lighted porch. As soon as he was crammed into the back seat with Jay and Sam, introductions were made all around.
“Now you know my whole family. Except for Gramp.”
“And Rudy,” said Sam.
“Our dog,” explained Jay.
“Rudy loves peanut butter sandwiches,” Sam announced. “And sleeping on my bed. And reading with Mom.”
“And barking at cats or squirrels or anything else on four legs,” said Jay.
“Cows and horses and oxes and zebras and lions and giraffes and —”
Jay grabbed Sam’s hat and pretended to throw it out the window.
“Home of the Cougars.” Kyung read the sign beneath the spotlight as they drove past Centreville School. “This is the school you played basketball for last year.”
“Yeah.”
“You told me the Cougars won the basketball championship.”
“Third year in a row,” said Jay.
“This year, the Cougars will not win.”
“You got that right.”
A bright light flooded Moyle’s wharf, and all around the cove other lights shone on other wharves where boats were tied up, waiting for the darkness to fade. A few boats already had their engines started, but no one could untie the ropes until seven o’clock.
Gramp was standing near the end of the wharf, both hands stuffed into the pockets of his thick plaid jacket. He turned with a smile as they approached him.
“This is my grandfather,” said Jay. “Gramp, this is Kyung. He’s in my class and he’s on my basketball team.”
“Pleased to meet you, son,” said Gramp, and he shook Kyung’s hand.
“I am pleased to meet you, sir,” said Kyung.
Though the sun had not yet come up, the sky would soon begin to fill with a pale light. A few family members and friends gathered at each wharf to wish the fishermen well on their first day of the season. Lobster traps were stacked high at the backs of all the Cape Island boats, the brightly painted buoys contrasting with the dull green of the wire traps.
Kyung snapped photos of just about everything he saw. “What are those blue and white objects?” he asked, leaning in for a closer look at Moyle’s traps.
“Buoys,” said Sam. “B-U-O-Y-S.”
“Sam’s fixated on vocabulary,” said Jay. “But sometimes he actually knows what he’s talking about.”
“They float,” said Sam. “And a rope ties the buoy to a lobster trap so you know where the trap is when it sinks to the bottom of the ocean. And everyone has different colours so no one gets mixed up.”
“Take Moyle, here,” added Gramp. “His are white and blue, but Peter over there’s got his buoys painted orange and yellow. They can fish right alongside each other and know who owns what traps.”
“Hey, Kyung,” said Jay. “Check it out. Moyle’s buoys are Roc
kets’ colours — white and blue.”
“So all these fishing boats are like teams with team colours. And they have captains, also,” Kyung added with a grin.
But I bet boat captains don’t have the same hassles as team captains, thought Jay.
“Soon time to get out there on the water,” said Gramp. He went to the edge of the wharf, climbed down the wooden ladder, and stepped into the boat beside Moyle and Simon. They talked for a few minutes and had a chuckle about something. Gramp shook Moyle’s hand and then Simon’s before he climbed back up the ladder to stand on the wharf.
At exactly seven o’clock, as if a gun had fired to start a race, boats were untied and rumbled away from the wharves. Pointing toward the open sea, their lights beamed into the pre-dawn darkness. The smell of diesel fuel wafted across the cove. People waved and shouted their good wishes above the noise of the engines. When the boats had rounded the headland and were out of sight, people slowly walked away from the wharves.
There was no wind. The weather forecast called for only the lightest breeze during the morning and afternoon. It would be a safe first day for the fishermen and their boats.
“Do the fishing boats leave at this time every day?” asked Kyung.
“They have to wait until seven o’clock only on this first day,” said Gramp. “Tomorrow, there’ll be lotsa boats out there even before five. When you see their lights, you think they’re stars fallen to the horizon.”
Jay knew his grandfather would love to be out there on a Cape Islander, no matter what the weather and no matter what the time of day. But things had changed. Gramp no longer had his own boat or his own buoys marked with his own colours. It reminded Jay of what happened when he couldn’t play basketball for the Rockets. Maybe what his grandfather was feeling was a lot like Jay had felt then. On the sidelines. Out of bounds.
“Jay Hirtle! How’s it going?” Walking toward him was Mike Murphy.
Game Face Page 5
