The Half-Court Hero

by Mike Lupica

  “I’ll tell you one thing,” their dad said. “Whoever’s looking out for this court must be doing it in the middle of the night. If not, the paint wouldn’t be dry by now.”

  “If that’s true,” said Zoe, “then how could they have seen what they were doing in the dark?”

  “I know the park is lit up after sundown,” their dad said. “We used to play at night when I was in high school. But I don’t know when the lights turn off.”

  “We don’t know, either, Dad. We’ve never been to the park late at night,” Zach said. “But now we know for sure the receipt Ralph found had to belong to our guardian angel. Because whoever bought the slats also bought paint.”

  “I’ll tell you something else,” Zoe said. “Our guardian angel must have had helpers, because I can’t believe one person painted this whole court by themselves.”

  “It’s like the more we find out, the more questions we have!” Zach said, throwing his hands up.

  “I still think our answer might be Malik’s parents,” Zoe said. “I’d like to know where they went after practice that day.”

  “We can ask them when they get here for the game,” Zach said.

  But right then, Zoe’s face fell. She shook her head sadly as she pointed toward the park entrance. Zach looked over and saw Malik walking up to the court. But his parents weren’t with him. Instead, his babysitter walked him to the park. When Zach and Zoe asked Malik where his parents were, he told them they were picking up his older sister from the airport. They probably wouldn’t even make it back in time for the game.

  “Did you need them for something?” Malik asked.

  “It can wait,” Zoe said. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Zach and Zoe’s dad came walking over then.

  “How about for the next hour or so,” he said, “we all just worry about lighting up this court.”

  Zach and Zoe agreed. They ran onto the court to start warming up with the rest of their team. They knew they had their work cut out for them against the Bulls. Two of Zach’s teammates from his rec league, Dylan Barnes and Tommy Bellino, were playing. Tommy had been the tallest player on their team last season. But he was also a great shooter from the outside. Dylan played point guard, so he’d be guarding Zach today and Zach would be guarding him.

  Emily Curley, one of Zoe’s teammates from her rec league, was also playing for the Bulls. Zoe would be guarding her in today’s game. Right before they started, Zoe looked over to where her mom was sitting with Grandpa Richie and a few men she didn’t recognize. She ran up to Zach.

  “Are those friends of Grandpa Richie’s?” she asked him.

  “I think those are some of the men he plays basketball with at the rec center,” Zach answered.

  “Well,” Zoe said, “if it makes our cheering section bigger, that’s fine with me.”

  After almost twenty minutes of play, the buzzer went off to mark the end of the second quarter. The Bulls were ahead, 18–8, mostly because Tommy Bellino had made every one of his shots in the first half. By the end of the third quarter, the Warriors were still losing by eight points, 22–14. If they didn’t start playing better, and fast, they wouldn’t be playing in the final on Sunday afternoon. Instead, they’d be watching it from the sidelines.

  Before Zach and Zoe took the court for the fourth quarter, their dad pulled them both aside.

  “Even though the Bulls are winning, I think they’ve started playing a little defensively. It’s like they’re worried about losing their lead,” Danny Walker said. “And I think they’re getting tired.”

  “So what’s our game plan?” Zoe asked.

  “You chase them harder than ever,” their dad said. “And make them chase you.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me, Coach Dad,” Zach said.

  With just over a minute left, the Warriors were still down by six points. But on the next two plays, Lily scored for the Warriors, and then Malik made a steal from Tommy and scored. Now they were only losing 26–24.

  Next, Zach stole the ball from Dylan Barnes and passed to Mateo, who was running down the court. Mateo caught the ball and drove in for a layup.

  The game was tied, 26–26.

  With fifteen seconds left, Emily missed an outside shot that would have put the Bulls back ahead. Zoe got the rebound. Then Coach Dad called a time-out.

  “So, what’s our play?” Zach asked as they huddled by the sideline.

  Their dad grinned, and said, “You tell me.”

  “But you’re the coach,” Zoe said.

  “Yeah,” their dad said. “But what am I always telling you?”

  “It’s a players’ game,” Zach said.

  “We’ve been talking about surprises,” Zoe said. “So let’s surprise them. Kari hasn’t taken a shot since the first half. Let’s have her take the game-winning shot.”

  “But how do I get open?” Kari asked.

  “You go stand over on the left side,” Zoe said. “Zach will be on the right side with the ball. You call for it. Loudly. As soon as you do, cut for the basket, and my brother will hit you with a pass.”

  “You sound pretty sure about this,” Kari said.

  “I know my brother,” she said.

  Zoe made the inbounds pass to Zach. He dribbled to his right. As soon as he did, Kari yelled really loudly that she was open. Lilliana Martinez, the Bulls player covering Kari, turned her head. When Kari saw that, she took off. Zach threw a crosscourt pass to Kari that she caught in stride. By the time her layup was through the net, the Warriors were through to the finals.

  After the handshake line, Zach and Zoe stood with their dad at midcourt.

  “We’re right where we want to be,” Zach said.

  “All we need to do now is win the championship game and find out who’s been fixing up the court,” Zoe said

  Their dad shook his head.

  “You two don’t give up, do you?” he said.

  “It’s like you always say, Dad: we never quit. Whether it’s school, sports, or mysteries,” Zoe reminded him.

  “Well, I’ve got to admit,” their dad said, “you’ve got me there.”

  EIGHT

  After dinner that night, Zach and Zoe’s parents came into the living room, where they were watching TV.

  “Let me ask you guys a question,” Tess Walker said, taking a seat between them on the couch. “Even if you do find out who did all these nice things for you and your friends—will it make any difference?”

  “I know what you’re saying, Mom,” Zoe said. “But you know how much I like to figure things out.”

  “Same,” Zach said.

  “And it’s one of about two million things I love about you both,” their mom said.

  “But let me ask you another question,” their dad said. “As happy as you’ll be if you do find out, what if it makes the person fixing the court even happier keeping themselves a secret?”

  “We’ve talked about that,” Zach said. “What we really want to do is thank that person. We think it’s even more important than solving the mystery.”

  Then Zoe said, “Mom, don’t you always tell us there’s nothing more precious than an act of kindness?”

  “I do,” their mom said. “So does your dad.”

  “Well,” Zoe said, “Zach and I want to reward one act of kindness with one of our own.”

  “Sounds like a pretty great idea to me,” their mom said.

  “Now, I’ve got another idea,” Danny Walker said. “How about the two of you shoot a few hoops until it’s time to go to bed?”

  And that’s just what Zach and Zoe did. They played a game of one-on-one while their parents cheered them on from the front porch. Zach and Zoe looked over at them and realized this was another kind of reward: all four of them being together as a family.

  NINE

  Sunday was the Warr
iors’ big championship game against the Rockets. That morning, Zach and Zoe arrived at Wesley Park to another surprise on the basketball court. Little did they know, it wouldn’t be the only surprise they’d get that day.

  A big yellow lightning bolt had been painted across the half-court line.

  Their dad walked toward the center of the court and stared down at it. It was almost as if he were the one trying to solve the mystery. And it looked like he might have discovered another clue.

  “What do you think it means, Dad?” Zoe asked.

  Their dad shrugged and put his hands up, as if to say he had no clue.

  “All I know is that somebody’s really having fun now,” he said.

  The championship game between the Warriors and the Rockets was even more fun, the way the best competitions in sports always are. The Warriors had already played two close games in the tournament. Today was no different.

  They ended up tied with the Rockets, 24–24, with thirty seconds left on the clock. The Rockets’ best player, Marcus Beverly, had just missed a wide-open shot after making most of the shots he’d taken in the second half. Mateo beat everyone to the rebound, but he got so close to the baseline chasing down the ball that Zach was worried he might step out of bounds. Not wanting to take any chances, Zach quickly called time-out.

  “Let’s move ourselves and move the ball until it’s time to take the last shot,” their dad said in the huddle.

  “But what’s the play?” Zach asked.

  “We wait until the clock hits ten seconds,” Danny Walker said, “and then whoever has the ball follows Grandpa Richie’s advice.”

  “If you’re open, shoot,” Zach said.

  “If somebody else is open, pass the ball and let them shoot,” Zoe said.

  Their dad put his hand out in the middle of the huddle. Everybody on the team put a hand on top of his.

  “And have fun!” Zach and Zoe shouted at the exact same moment as their dad.

  From the sideline, Zoe passed the ball in to Zach, who was standing right on top of the lightning bolt. Zach passed it back to her. She passed to Malik, who gave the ball back to Zach just as the clock showed ten seconds left in the game.

  Zach dribbled right. Then he drove left for the basket. Then he noticed Zoe just to the left of the free throw line. She was wide open, but she didn’t call for the ball or wave for it. It didn’t matter. She knew it was coming to her the second she met Zach’s eyes. It was like the twins were reading each other’s minds.

  Five seconds.

  Four.

  Zach passed the ball to his sister with two seconds left. Zoe squared up her shoulders as she faced the basket, just the way their dad and Grandpa Richie had taught them.

  Then she shot the ball.

  They all heard the buzzer sound right before Zoe’s shot went through the net and won the Warriors the championship.

  Now it was time to celebrate. All six Warriors players jumped up and down on the lightning bolt at midcourt.

  TEN

  The whole Warriors team and their parents (plus Grandpa Richie) gathered in Zach and Zoe’s backyard a couple of hours after the game for a team barbecue and victory celebration.

  The championship trophy had already been presented to them at Wesley Park. But Zach and Zoe’s dad said he wanted to wait to award the MVP trophy at the party, along with trophies for all the Warriors players.

  Their dad handled the grilling and stood by the barbecue with a few of the parents. Their mom made a huge salad. Some of the other guests brought side dishes and desserts. Everybody was in a wonderful mood. It seemed they weren’t just celebrating their tournament win, but also the beginning of summer.

  Zach was going over the ending of the game with Malik and Mateo when he noticed Zoe standing by herself. He walked over to her.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You just made the kind of shot you remember forever.”

  “You know what’s wrong,” she said, frowning.

  Zach nodded. He knew she meant they hadn’t solved the mystery of the basketball court.

  “But we won the championship,” he said to his sister, trying to make her feel better. Right now, he only wanted her to feel great about her game-winning shot.

  “We still didn’t solve the mystery,” she said. “I was hoping Malik’s parents would turn out to be our guardian angels. But I asked them about it as soon as the game was over. They promised it wasn’t them.”

  “So that means it must have been one of the other parents,” Zach said.

  “But who?” Zoe said. “I keep thinking it was somebody who saw Malik cut his hand on the bench. There were a bunch of parents watching the practice game.”

  “I don’t know,” Zach said. “It made perfect sense for it to be Malik’s parents. Especially when we found the time stamp on the receipt at Wade’s. Whoever bought the slats and paint did it right after our practice game ended.”

  “But then who put up the new nets?” Zoe wondered.

  Right then, Grandpa Richie came walking over. “How about the two of you show me that fancy high five?” he said.

  That seemed to make Zoe feel better. So she and Zach spun and bumped hips and elbows and jumped. When they came down, Zoe noticed the yellow stain on Grandpa Richie’s old shoes.

  “You’ve already got mustard on you?” Zoe teased.

  He grinned. “Are you saying Mr. Clumsy strikes again?”

  Then their dad came over and told Zach and Zoe the team trophies were in a box in the basement. He asked if they’d go get them while he went to get the MVP trophy out of the trunk of his car.

  Zach and Zoe hardly ever went into their dad’s basement office. It was more of a trophy room than an office, really. Many of Danny’s old awards were down there. There were photographs all over the place. Some hung on the walls, and some were stacked in piles in the corner. But by now, the twins knew how much their dad preferred living in the present, not the past.

  Zach quickly grabbed the small box of trophies off his dad’s desk. He turned and headed out the door, carefully making his way back upstairs.

  But Zoe stayed behind. She stared at a small, framed photograph hidden in a corner behind a file cabinet. She’d never noticed the picture before. It was of three boys in matching basketball jerseys. Zoe thought the boy in the middle was their dad, at first. He didn’t look much older than she and Zach were. The boy was holding a basketball on his hip, smiling like he’d just won a big game. And his jersey had a lightning bolt on the front. The same lightning bolt that had been painted on the court at Wesley Park.

  At that moment, a lightning bolt went off in Zoe’s brain. She had just solved the mystery of the basketball court.

  Zoe carefully took the photograph off the wall and made her way upstairs. She smiled to herself. Making the winning shot for her team felt pretty great. But solving the mystery felt even better. Suddenly, a lot of things made sense to Zoe, and her day was complete.

  Well, almost.

  ELEVEN

  Back in the yard, Zach and Zoe’s dad asked everyone to form a big circle around him. He then proceeded to hand out trophies to all six Warriors players. For each player, he pointed out something they did to help the team win. Not just in the championship game, but all weekend.

  Then it was time for the presentation of the MVP award. The MVP was decided by the other seven coaches in the tournament through a vote. All the coaches had attended the championship game.

  “It was unanimous,” Danny Walker said. “All the coaches agreed the MVP award should go to the player who made the winning shot—Zoe Walker!”

  A great cheer went up in the Walkers’ backyard.

  “Just what this family needs: another basketball trophy,” said Grandpa Richie, and he winked at Zach, who was standing beside him.

  Zoe walked up to her dad, and Zach noticed she was hold
ing something behind her back in her left hand. He couldn’t see what it was, but he knew Zoe was up to something. Their dad handed Zoe the MVP trophy, which she held easily in her right hand.

  But then Zoe turned to everyone, and said, “I tried to be as good a player today as I could possibly be. But I don’t deserve this trophy as much as the person who spent the last few days making our basketball court as good as it could possibly be.”

  She smiled and showed everybody the picture in her hands: the picture of a boy wearing a jersey with a lightning bolt on the front.

  Zoe smiled at Grandpa Richie. “For that act of kindness, I would like to present this trophy to my grandfather.”

  Now a much bigger cheer exploded in the backyard. It was so loud, Zach and Zoe thought people all over town could hear it. Everyone turned and looked at Grandpa Richie, who smiled and shrugged.

  “Busted,” he said.

  TWELVE

  Later that afternoon, after the party was over and all the guests had gone home, Zach and Zoe, their parents, and Grandpa Richie sat together in the backyard. They went over some of the highlights from the game and laughed about catching Grandpa Richie in his act of kindness.

  Grandpa Richie kept saying he didn’t know what the big deal was.

  “I didn’t do it to hear a few more cheers,” he said. “I’ve heard enough of them in my life. It was the right thing to do. And you’re supposed to do the right thing when you have a chance.”

  He told them that originally, he was only planning to buy new nets for the court. “On the way home from my game at the rec center Wednesday afternoon, I passed through the park and noticed the baskets. Figured it’d be easy enough to replace the nets.” But then he heard Zach and Zoe talking about the court at breakfast on Thursday, and realized the court needed more than that. When Zach and Zoe told him about Malik’s accident after he picked them up from practice, he decided to repair the benches, too. Luckily, on the same day, he’d noticed the coupon for Wade’s in the newspaper.