by Jake Maddox
“Yeah. Then you laughed at how I said grandmomma.” Autumn deliberately didn’t hide her accent, daring Bree to imitate it again.
“It’s like you think I’m not as good as you because I’m from the country. Or maybe because your family has more money than mine,” Autumn continued.
Bree started to argue, then stopped. “Maybe at first,” she admitted quietly. “A little. I mean, maybe I thought you’d act like people from the sticks always do on television.”
Autumn rolled her eyes. “Those are stereotypes,” she said. “Don’t tell me you think TV is super accurate about showing kids who use wheelchairs too?”
Bree blinked. Then she laughed. “Fair point,” she said. “I hate wheelchair stereotypes.”
“Me too. And rural ones,” Autumn said.
Bree stopped laughing. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That wasn’t cool.”
Autumn took a deep breath. “Thanks. And sorry I’ve been a little intense on the court.”
“A little?” Bree said, only half-joking.
“Okay, a lot,” Autumn admitted. “Guess I feel like I have a lot to prove—and not much time to do it.”
“You’re a great player,” Bree said. “It’s hard to believe you’ve never played on a team.”
“I would if we had one close enough,” Autumn said.
Bree’s eyes widened. “Just how far out do you live?”
“Far enough that there isn’t reliable internet at our house,” Autumn said.
Bree didn’t laugh. “Wow,” she said. “But it’s nice that your grandma sends you letters and stuff,” she added thoughtfully. “I wish my parents did that.”
Autumn suddenly wondered who Bree was upset with on the phone a few days ago. “Do you get along with your parents?” she asked.
Bree shrugged. “Sometimes. When I can be perfect enough for them.”
Autumn remembered what Keoko had said back in the break room. Everyone’s carrying some sort of load—no matter how shiny things look on the outside.
Autumn felt better after talking to Bree. More sure of herself, more confident that she belonged here.
And that helped her find the courage to fix something she knew needed it. She thought about it all that evening and the next day. Finally, she knew what she had to do. After thinking about it even more, she got up the courage to ask her roommates to help her.
The evening before the final game, Autumn called an emergency meeting of the staff appreciation committee. She also brought along three last-minute new members—Ashti, Coral, and Bree.
“What’s this about, Autumn?” Junta asked when they’d all assembled. She looked in confusion at Autumn’s roommates.
“This meeting is about speaking up for what’s right,” Autumn said. She took a deep breath and reminded herself she had as much right to voice her opinions as anyone else here. “At first, I didn’t think I belonged here because … well, for a lot of reasons. But then I realized I’d definitely never fit in if I didn’t believe I could. It took me a while, but I believe it now.”
The other girls looked confused but listened.
Autumn continued. “I called this meeting because it’s not right for us to thank some staff members and not others. So, I think we need to re-vote on that. And then fix it.”
Junta spoke up. “Okay, maybe I see your point. But we’ve used up the money we had for gifts. And it’s too late to get anything else.”
Ashti piped up. “No problem. My parents live right in town. They said they’d be happy to pick up anything we wanted. They can do it tonight.”
Coral chimed in too. “Since we’re the late arrivals, Ashti, Bree, and I are going to chip in for the gift for the facilities staff.”
“Facilities?” Junta echoed.
“Dining, housekeeping, and maintenance,” Autumn explained.
“What should we get them?” Consuela asked.
Autumn grinned, remembering the tin of cookies and other snacks in the facilities break room. “I know just the thing.”
They took a vote. It was almost unanimous.
Autumn didn’t have much time to enjoy her victory. The big game was tomorrow, and the girls were pushing hard to get ready. Autumn could barely sleep that night, excited about seeing Marmee but sad that camp was ending. So much had changed in just two short weeks.
“You feel nervous?” Ashti asked sleepily from the next bed.
“A little,” Autumn told her. “But mostly just happy.”
CHAPTER 10
GAME NIGHT!
Two weeks had passed in the blink of an eye. Already, game night had arrived.
Autumn’s nerves jangled as she took her place in the lineup. There were twenty girls playing in two exhibition games. She and Bree both ended up on Tara’s team.
As she rolled onto the court with her teammates, Autumn felt a surge of pride and excitement. For the first time since camp had started, the bleachers were full of people. Parents, grandparents, even some college students and community members were there. And Marmee was there too, sitting right at half-court.
Having a real audience there—especially Marmee—made Autumn even more determined to play her best.
Autumn took her place, playing point guard opposite Laquiana, and took a deep breath.
Laquiana grinned in a teasing way. “You got what it takes, Holloway?”
Autumn grinned back. “You better believe it!”
The two forwards squared off in the center circle. The ref tossed the ball.
The game was on!
The first half was fast-paced and physical. Laquiana made Autumn fight for all she was worth. The girls competed, flying all over the court, protecting their basket and attacking opponents, stealing the ball and trying not to have it stolen right back.
When the halftime buzzer sounded, Autumn’s team was up by two points—and she had scored the basket that put them ahead. Bree, who hadn’t scored any points, kept glancing nervously at the bleachers where her parents were watching.
The second half was tighter. The other team made a basket in the third quarter, tying the score. Then Ashti sank a shot after an unexpected rebound, putting Autumn’s team back into the lead.
Autumn’s arms and shoulders burned from racing around the court, trying to block Laquiana, then trying to get past her. Ashti passed the ball to Autumn, who snagged it from the air and took off up the court toward the basket, dribbling furiously. Laquiana grabbed for the ball, and Autumn scooped it into her lap to keep it safe.
The ref’s whistle shrilled. “Number four, traveling violation!”
Autumn groaned. She’d kept the ball in her lap one push too long. The other team got possession and made it to their basket. Consuela took the shot, but it bounced off the rim.
Autumn felt a rush of relief. They were still ahead by two!
Tara called a time-out, and the girls huddled up at the sidelines.
“Okay,” Tara said. “Less than two minutes on the clock. Things are going our way, but we can’t lose focus. Eyes on the ball, keep moving. Laquiana’s defense is hot tonight, so watch out for her. And don’t forget to pass if you get into a jam! That clock runs out quick. Sometimes it’s better to get rid of the ball, and let someone else take the shot.”
The girls all nodded and put their hands into the circle.
“Let’s do this!” Tara shouted.
“One, two, three … TEAMWORK!” the girls shouted back.
Soon they were back in play. Amira passed to Ashti, who rolled up the court like a hurricane until two defensive players’ wheelchairs blocked her path. Ashti stopped, looked around, and hurled the ball to Autumn.
Autumn snagged it from the air and shoved hard on her rims, heading toward the hoop. Laquiana whirled by and snatched the ball from Autumn mid-dribble, sending them all spinning back the other way. Laquiana passed to Coral, who made the basket.
Autumn’s team groaned. They were tied with just twenty seconds on the clock!
Back on offense
, Autumn took the ball down the court. She weaved and spun. Her wheels and Laquiana’s almost crashed, but Autumn whirled skillfully away at the last second.
Autumn’s heart pounded double-time to the beat of the bouncing ball. She saw an opening up ahead. She was almost close enough to take the shot!
“Autumn! I’m open!” It was Bree. She’d made her way to the basket, her green wheelchair perfectly positioned beneath it. Her hands were raised and ready.
Autumn hesitated, glancing between her own path to the basket and Bree waiting beneath it. She really wanted to make that last basket and make Marmee proud. But Marmee would be proud of her no matter what. Autumn had already made a basket. Bree hadn’t.
Autumn made a split-second choice. She spun her chair to avoid crashing into Laquiana and passed to Bree.
The ball left Bree’s hands in a blurred, orange arc.
Swish!
BZZZZZZ!
Autumn’s team erupted in cheers. They’d won! Autumn raced over to Bree to be the first one to give her a hug.
After the game, Autumn introduced Marmee to her friends and took her on a short tour of the campus. Then it was time to get ready for the banquet.
The dining hall had been transformed. There were real tablecloths and silverware, fairy lights, and motivational basketball posters on the walls. It was like a basketball wonderland.
The dining staff were dressed in black pants and white shirts. Keoko smiled at Autumn as she came by with a tray of fancy snacks, then stayed long enough for Autumn to introduce Marmee.
The evening was a happy blur. Autumn, her friends, and their families enjoyed the delicious dinner of soup, chicken or fish, and a huge assortment of amazing desserts.
As they dug into their chocolate lava cake, Bree leaned over to Autumn. “Okay,” she whispered, “maybe I underestimated the dining hall. This is really good.”
Finally, it was time to present the awards. Each girl was recognized for something. When Autumn’s turn came, Carlos smiled as he read the award: “Teamwork Tough.”
Last up were the staff appreciation gifts. Autumn grinned as she and Consuela presented their gifts to the facilities team. Nathaniel and Keoko accepted the four dozen donuts and handmade card on everyone’s behalf.
“Thanks again for paying for those,” Autumn whispered to her roommates when she got back to the table.
“Thanks for the wheelchair repair lesson you gave us all,” Ashti whispered back. “More than an even trade, if you ask me!”
Full of pride, Autumn looked around the table at her new friends. I’ll find a way to get back here next summer, she promised herself.
After the banquet, Autumn introduced Marmee to a couple other dining hall staff. Marmee’s eyes lit up when she saw Nathaniel. “Aren’t you Benjamin Taylor’s youngest?” she asked.
Nathaniel laughed. “Sure am! I moved out here about five years ago. I’m taking a college class every semester while I work full-time.”
Autumn couldn’t believe it. Someone from Sandy Pines lived here?
Nathaniel continued, “I should get back to visit more than I do. My dad’s having a hard time keeping up with his repair business on his own.”
Marmee nodded. “He does small-engine work and general repairs, right? That sort of thing is right up Autumn’s alley,” she added proudly.
Autumn blushed. “I only do that at home, Marmee,” she protested. “And with Uncle Gary.”
But Nathaniel seemed interested. “I bet my dad would be happy to have help. I can guarantee you’d get all the practice you want. He’d pay you too.”
“Thanks!” Autumn felt a rush of excitement at the thought of a summer job. She could start saving up for camp next summer. Maybe even for a sports chair of her own one day!
“Autumn?” Coral and her moms had joined them. “Can you come with us to the quad for a sec?”
Leaving Marmee to chat with the adults, Autumn followed her roommates out of the dining hall. The four girls crossed the quad together, their wheels flashing bright in the pink sunset light. They stopped under a big tree, and Ashti held up a package from her lap.
“From all of us,” she said.
Autumn opened the package. It was a purple, long-sleeved Blazing Hoops hoodie.
Autumn swallowed the lump in her throat and hugged them all. “You’re the best,” she said, wriggling into the hoodie then and there.
“We totally have to stay in touch this fall,” Coral said suddenly. “Like, every day!”
“Absolutely,” Autumn said. “But let’s trade snail-mail addresses for that. We don’t have great Wi-Fi at my house.”
Coral and Ashti looked surprised but shrugged. “Sounds like fun,” Ashti said. “We’ll be old-school pen pals!”
Bree laughed. “I guess I could manage a postcard now and then,” she joked.
Autumn gave Bree a teasing smile. “I guess I could find time to read them,” she joked back.
Autumn and her roommates lingered on the quad a while longer, watching the sun go down. Autumn closed her eyes, feeling content and snug in her new hoodie. But more than anything, savoring the feeling of being exactly where she belonged.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Monica Roe grew up in a tiny farming town and spent most of her childhood holed up in a corner of the local library, where she was once almost locked in at closing time. She could also be found performing poorly in gym class, or roaming the woods and dreaming up stories. Monica has spent many years as a pediatric physical therapy provider for remote communities in rural Alaska. She also studies public health at the University of Alaska, Anchorage. Monica and her family spend summers in rural South Carolina, where they operate a small apiary and provide community education about honeybees.
GLOSSARY
accessible (ak-SESS-ih-bul) —
easily used or accessed by people with varying abilities
adaptive (uh-DAP-tiv) —
designed to assist people with varying abilities
agility (uh-JIH-luh-tee) —
the ability to move swiftly and nimbly
maintenance (MAYN-ten-enss) —
the repair or upkeep of equipment
maneuver (muh-NEW-ver) —
to manage into or out of a position
Paralympics (PAIR-uh-LIM-piks) —
a series of international contests for athletes with disabilities that are associated with the Olympic Games
push rim (PUSH rim) —
an aluminum tube covered with a small tire glued to the rims of a wheelchair; a person uses push rims to propel a wheelchair
rural (RUR-uhl) —
having to do with the country
scrimmage (SKRIM-ij) —
a practice game
stereotype (STAIR-ee-oh-type) —
an overly simple opinion of a person, group, or thing
underestimate (UN-der-ESS-tuh-mayt) —
to place too low a value on
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
Autumn arrives at wheelchair basketball camp excited to meet new friends. However, she’s not sure she fits in right away. In what ways do others make Autumn feel like an outsider? Are there ways that Autumn is making herself feel like an outsider?
Think about the reasons that, at first, Autumn feels more comfortable with the people who work at the camp versus the campers. Why does she feel that connection?
Challenged Athletes Foundation is an organization that helps people with disabilities get equipment to play sports and stay active. If you could create an organization that helped people, what would it be and how would it help others?
WRITING PROMPTS
Basketball means the world to Autumn. What are some ways she describes the sport that show readers how important it is to her? Write a paragraph about your favorite sport using sensory language (sight, sound, smell, etc.) to show how you feel about it.
Autumn is good at fixing things. Make a list of things you’re good at or skills you have. Then write a possible job or ca
reer that requires that skill next to each item. Review the list when you’re looking for a job someday!
Imagine you are Autumn a month after camp. Write a “snail mail” letter to Coral, Bree, or Ashti. Tell them what you’ve been up to since camp ended.
MORE ABOUT THE SPORT
Wheelchair basketball is an extremely athletic, fast-paced sport and is among the most popular adaptive sports in the world. Wheelchairs used for playing basketball are highly specialized, with a rugged design and a wide base of support, allowing players a high level of speed and maneuverability on the court.
The rules of wheelchair basketball are very similar to those of traditional basketball, with some differences to accommodate the use of chairs on the court. For example, a player’s wheelchair is considered an extension of their body in terms of contact-based fouls or other game violations.
Each team has 24 seconds to try and make a basket before losing possession of the ball. Dribbling involves bouncing the ball and pushing one’s wheelchair at the same time. If a player places the ball in their lap, they are allowed to push their wheelchair twice before they must shoot, pass, or resume dribbling.
To make the sport more inclusive for different types of abilities, players are classified based on their function within the wheelchair and their disability The classification scale ranges from 1.0 to 4.5, in 0.5 increments. This is important because, in most leagues, the five players on the court cannot exceed 14 points. This means that it may not be the best five players on a team, but the best mix of players to formulate a strategy to utilize their combined skills.
Wheelchair basketball originated in the United States in the 1940s and began as a way to help injured veterans of World War II rehabilitate. The first U.S. wheelchair basketball teams played at Veterans Administration (VA) hospitals in Massachusetts and California.
In 1960, wheelchair basketball was one of eight adaptive sports to be included in the first Paralympic Games. In the mid-1960s, the first wheelchair Stetten teams for women began, with the first U.S. women’s team competing in the 1968 Olympics along with the men’s team.
