“Bucky.” Puzzled, she pulled off her apron and walked over to him. “What happened? You’ve been waiting two years for this.”
He took a deep breath. “I know. But now with Dan and Sam . . . I can’t just go off and leave them.”
His words hung in the air. Mom chewed on her lip as she eyed his determined face.
“I just can’t.”
“Bucky,” she said softly, “I know how you feel about your friends. But I’ve been praying for the last two years that Dad would let you go to a Christian high school where you belong. Where all your friends will be fellow believers. Now . . .”
“Dan and Sam are my friends.” Bucky sat up straighter on the stool and looked at his mother. “And just converted. If I go off and leave them here, I . . . I don’t think they can make it.”
“Maybe they can go too.”
He shook his head emphatically. “Dan can’t for sure. I was just talking to him. And Sam’s in the same boat. With his folks feeling like they do and everything. Anyway, even if he could go, that’d leave Dan here all by himself.”
“Honey . . .” Mom seemed to be weighing every word. “I don’t know that you can make them your responsibility forever. Now that your chance has come, I hate to see you not grab it. You have your own spiritual welfare to take care of.” She slumped a bit. “I guess that sounds a little selfish, doesn’t it?”
“No.” He began to pace the kitchen floor. “It doesn’t. But helping Sam . . . and Dan . . .” He looked at her again. “You know something? Helping them be saved did more for me than . . . maybe even going to Christ the King would do.”
“I know.” His mother looked toward the upstairs study where Bucky could hear his dad rummaging through some file cabinets. “But I still believe that every young person needs the advantages of a Spirit-led education, Bucky. Look at all the problems it’s caused you, being in public school these two years. With sports and everything. And . . . you know, girls. And you said yourself that your trip to Thailand with all those kids from church was something you really enjoyed.”
“I know it!” He stopped pacing and looked at her. “I know all that stuff. A . . . ‘consistent message from church, home, and school.’ I know. But I can’t leave Sam and Dan here when they’ve just been baptized. Dan still doesn’t hardly know the first thing about really being a faithful Christian day after day.” Without fanfare he told his mother about the R-rated DVDs.
She sagged. “You sure they can’t both go with you? Maybe if the church helps with tuition?”
“It’s not just that,” he responded. “Their folks would never let them. You remember how Mr. Litton is. Anyway, it’s just the two of them. At the Christian school we’d be gone a lot more, with a lot of weekends away. Dan’s not going to leave his dad home all alone to drink himself to death while he’s gone so much.”
Neither of them said anything for a long time. Finally Mrs. Stone seemed to accept the situation. “Well, honey, at least think a little more about it. Registration’s two days away. You might still . . .”
He nodded. “I know. And it really is terrific of Dad to say I can go. But right now I just don’t see how I could.”
Thursday morning Bucky eased the Toyota into a parking stall at the high school campus. “Offer’s still open,” Dad had said that morning at breakfast. With a smile and a dull shake of his head, Bucky had indicated that his mind was made up.
“Hey, Stone!” One of the senior athletes gave the blond junior a wave. “Ready to take me on, one - on - one on the court?”
Bucky managed a grin. “Any time, man.”
“Man, we need you on varsity. Think you can make the cut?”
Bucky gestured with crossed fingers. “Dunno.”
“See you later.” Ticking off the classes he needed, Bucky completed the registration procedure, paid a yearbook deposit, and walked over to the athletic complex where Coach Brayshaw was seated behind his desk talking animatedly on the phone.
“Just wanted to say hi,” Bucky whispered as Coach momentarily covered the mouthpiece. “I’ll see you in a month for tryouts.”
The athletic director nodded with a smile before returning to his conversation. Just then Dan’s stocky form filled the doorway. “There you are.”
“Just letting old Coach know that Litton/Stone was his meal ticket again.” Bucky gave his teammate a little punch on the arm.
“Decided not to go to the Promised Land after all, huh?”
Bucky shrugged. “Aaaah, I had to stay here to keep you all straightened out.”
“I know, them sleazy DVDs. I admit I blew it.” His face reddened.
The younger boy gave him a friendly punch on the arm. “Anyway, Panther would fall flat with just you on the team. Who are you gonna run the patented give - and - go play with?”
“For sure.” Dan eyed his friend for a moment. “I don’t know how to say this,” he managed at last. “But I’m glad you’re stayin’.”
“No sweat.” Bucky eyed a loose basketball lying underneath one of the hoops. “Five minutes of Rough 21?”
• • • • •
The next weekend at church the three high school boys sat together with Bucky’s mother and Rachel Marie. “When are you gonna convert some babes?” Dan growled in a low voice as the deacons picked up the offering. “Every week I gotta sit by you and Sam. It’s lame, man.”
“Look, I got you in here. Now you go out and witness to all the babes you want,” Bucky replied as he dropped a tithe envelope in the plate. “That’s what that old campfire song, ‘Pass It On,’ is all about.”
After the praise music and sermon Pastor Jensen took an extra moment when he greeted the three. “I heard what happened,” he said to Bucky. “That’s a tough choice.”
“I know.” Bucky glanced at his friends. “I just couldn’t leave right now.”
The silver-haired pastor nodded in understanding. “Who knows how things may still work out,” he observed. “Anyway, a year from now we’ve got to find a way to get Sam here into a good Christian college.”
“Good luck,” the Vietnamese boy grinned. “Unless the church board hits the lotto jackpot, I don’t know.”
“Oh, we’ve got better sources than that.” Pastor Jensen glanced up toward the ceiling with a smile.
Bucky’s September afternoons and evenings were filled with stints at First California Bank, chemistry homework, and as many hours of basketball scrimmage as he and Dan could manage. “We’ve just got to show up for those tryouts sharper than anybody else,” Dan grunted as he dribbled behind his back on the way to another score.
“Man, I’d love to get on varsity,” Bucky said for the hundredth time.
“We will.” Dan bounced the basketball hard a few times, then caught it and looked at the taller student. “God can work it out.”
Bucky’s heart skipped a beat as his friend made the simple observation. “You’re right. Come on, ten more minutes.”
It was a nervous knot of juniors and seniors who lined up in the gymnasium for October’s basketball tryouts. Coach Brayshaw, now promoted to the prestigious varsity position, eyed the row of athletes. “Pretty good talent pool here,” he observed as he fingered his clipboard. “No matter which way the breaks go today, guys, I think we can have one sizzler of a team. Which we’re gonna need with the schedule District has laid on us.”
Without further comment he and his assistant put the young men through the routine of basketball tests. Free throws. Perimeter shooting. Dribble, pass, and scrimmage workouts. Dan and Bucky, more in shape than the others, eyed their competition as the grueling exercises brought a shimmer of perspiration to everyone’s bodies.
“That’s it, gents. Lists posted tomorrow, varsity and JV.” Brayshaw clapped his hands together three times. “I’ll say it again – we’re gonna be pistol hot here at Hampton High.”
Tingling with new excitement, Bucky showered quickly. “What do you think?” he asked Dan as they walked to the parking lot.
“What about us, though?”
Dan shrugged. “Fifty-fifty.”
Bucky sucked in his breath. “That’s it?”
Dan grunted as he gripped his heavy athletic bag. “I’ve been praying real hard about it,” he said all at once. “Something you said last week about playing so that we can, you know, give glory to God. Every play, like you said.”
“Yeah.” Bucky was silent. “You want to pray again?”
Glancing around, Dan caught himself and grinned. “Sure.” The two boys bowed their heads in the nearly empty parking lot as Bucky offered a short prayer, asking God to give them the best possible opportunities to honor him while playing for the Panthers.
“Amen,” Dan echoed. “Now we just wait for that list!” He squinted, looking off in the distance.
“What?”
“That’s your old honey, ain’t it?” A familiar blonde figure stood on the far side of the parking lot.
“Deirdre? Yeah.” Despite the romantic turmoil of recent weeks, he couldn’t help but flush as she waved to them.
“Man, she is some heart-stoppin’ woman.” Dan grinned.
Classes the next day seemed to drag for the two players. Finally a free moment arrived when they could slip over to the sports auditorium.
“Is it up yet?” Dan asked a sophomore who was just exiting. The boy nodded. “Come on.” Dan tried to look casual as he went over to the bulletin board. “Please, please, please.” He ran down the list. “Litton . . . all right! Yeah! Let’s see . . . Stone?” He paused, then shook his head sadly. “Crud!”
Bucky’s heart sank. “What?”
“I’m kidding. You made it!” Dan pumped a fist in the air before giving his friend a high five. “Litton and Stone on varsity! Panthers rule!”
Just then Coach Brayshaw came out of his office. “Well, lookie who’s here,” he grinned. “Part of the Dream Team.”
“That’s right, Coach.” Dan couldn’t hide his excitement. “We made it!”
“Well, last year’s JV results were a big part of how the voting went,” Brayshaw explained.
“Gorton and little Billy Volker made it too.” Bucky examined the rest of the roster.
“Yeah, it’s going to be a good squad.” Brayshaw clapped both players on the back. “First practice in two days.”
Chapter Three: Free Throws and Free Money
The air conditioning felt good as Bucky and his mother wheeled a grocery cart through Hampton Beach’s Lucky Supermarket. Rachel Marie darted from one side of the aisle to the other, making enthusiastic suggestions.
“Honey, we’re not buying Sugar Pops,” Mom said, giving her eight - year - old a gentle frown. She flashed a look at her athletic son. “Someday when you’re a dad, you’ll have to fend off all these incessant suggestions.”
Bucky grinned. Even with his busy junior schedule and hectic varsity basketball practices, the weekly trip to the grocery store was a family ritual. More often than not, some high school activity or extra “hoop” practice with Dan prevented him from going along, but a dreary study session with his Algebra II textbook had given him a sudden urge to get out of the house.
“Those quadratic equations really driving you nuts?” Mom asked as they turned down another store aisle.
“Yeah.” He reached out and pulled a jar of pancake syrup off a shelf, waiting for her to nod approval. “They’re not hard, just boring. It’s a bunch of stupid busywork.”
As the cart slowly filled, Bucky thought again of the turmoil he had faced over the question of commuting up to the Christian school. Had he made the right choice? he wondered. Was it maybe his first responsibility to seek a Bible-based high school education? On the other hand, could Dan and Sam’s newfound faith have survived without his support?
Both students had seemed relieved when Bucky decided to stay on at high school. Still, at times doubts crept back into his mind. Five weeks of school had passed without a shred of social life. His painful phone call to Lisa, he knew, had left that relationship in tatters. His one e-mail to Vasana hadn’t brought an answer yet . . . and what kind of future was there in long distance friendships anyway?
A wave of loneliness washed over him as two pretty girls from Hampton High giggled their way down the supermarket aisle. One paused as she passed the Stones’ cart, eyeing Bucky for a brief moment. She whispered something to her friend as they headed past, but Bucky didn’t bother to try to listen.
“Basketball and algebra,” he muttered to himself. “That’s my life, I guess.”
“Did you say something, honey?”
“No. Just . . . nothing.” He forced himself to concentrate on the Panthers’ first varsity game coming up on Tuesday. Would he and Dan both get named to the starting five?
The Hampton Beach high school gymnasium was three - fourths full a good twenty minutes before game time. Bucky and the rest of the varsity squad suited up nervously before the contest with freshly diagrammed plays still burning in their minds.
“All right.” Coach Brayshaw had that same look of intensity that had carried the JV team to the championship last season. “We hit it hard, and we hit it now! I know a winner when I see it . . . and this Panther team is a winner! All we gotta do is put our talent on the floor and then execute. Play hard and play smart!” He scanned the row of eager faces. “Gorton, Litton, Stone . . .”
A tingle shot up and down Bucky’s spine. The starting five for Hampton Beach High School’s elite varsity team – while still a junior! What an opportunity God was providing for witness!
As they had so often last year, Bucky and Dan retired to a corner of the gymnasium for a moment of prayer. “Please, Lord, be with us tonight,” the younger athlete pleaded. “This is such a chance for us to honor your name. Help us to play with intensity and with your Spirit at all times. Help us to keep our tempers and to be controlled by you.”
“Amen.” Dan murmured the close as a fanfare from the gymnasium echoed through the athletic complex. He looked at his friend. “This is it, son.”
“Yeah.” A rush of butterflies hit Bucky as the pair jogged onto the playing area while the crowd roared. A huge bass drum thumped enthusiastically.
“Starting at forward, number twenty-four, junior Bucky Stone!” The largely female audience squealed its approval as the players took their places on the floor.
From the opening tipoff, it was obvious that the visiting Kings were woefully undercoached. Ragged plays and a shoddy defense offered no match for Coach Brayshaw’s hard-playing Panther five. Time and time again, Bucky and his teammates intercepted errant King passes and converted them into easy fast - break points.
“Man, this is just a party,” Gorton grinned as he examined the home team’s twenty-point lead before the squad entered the fourth quarter. “And Billy Boy is one hot little sucker, ain’t he?”
The deadly guard buried yet another three-pointer as the final seconds dwindled down with the Panthers coasting by twenty-four. “One and oh! One and oh!” the fans chanted as they headed out into the cool Bay Area evening after the game.
“Not bad, Bill!” Bucky gave the perspiring little guard a forearm bash as the boys headed to the locker room. “I don’t think you missed a thing tonight.”
“Just his deodorant,” Dan teased.
Bill grinned. The guard was a hot competitor, always best playing under pressure. But even in an easy contest like the Panthers’ opener, his shots were usually “nothing but net.”
“Come on, Stone, let’s go grab something to eat,” Dan declared as the boys exited after their showers. “Your folks didn’t come tonight, did they?”
“Huh uh.” The night air felt cool on Bucky’s still - damp hair. “Couldn’t make it.”
“Come on, then.”
For a moment Bucky hesitated. “Oh, why not?” he grinned. “We deserve
it.”
“For sure. All those assists of yours?”
Dan’s gleaming Camaro glided slowly down the main street of town. Several students along the sidewalk noticed the car and waved approvingly.
“See? We’re famous,” Dan grinned. “And you wanted to leave all this glory behind.” He craned his head suddenly as they passed a small motel. “Man, look at that car.”
“Where?”
“Right there. In the parking lot with the ‘For Sale’ sign. What a sweetie.”
“What is it?”
“Fiero. I think it’s an ‘88. That’s the last year they made those babies.”
“Wow, that is a nice one. Looks in mint condition. Wonder how much?”
“I don’t know, but I’ve always thought that was a sweet little machine.”
“Better than this?”
Dan shrugged. “Oh, it’s just a good-looking car. I’ve always liked ‘em. They go back such a long way you hardly see ‘em anymore.”
The boys wheeled into a McDonalds and went in. Pooling their money, Dan ordered for both of them and picked up the tray of food.
“Well, look who’s here.” He waved awkwardly at another booth where Bill Volker was sitting with three girls. “Bill, my man, how do you do it? Did you hit the lottery or something?”
“He’s rich!” one of the girls giggled.
The diminutive guard grinned as he stuck a french fry into her mouth. “Shut up! Don’t tell everybody.”
Bucky and Dan ate slowly, savoring the postgame glow of victory. In the next booth Bill and the girls laughed among themselves. Every few minutes one of the girls would troop up to the counter to order something, clutching more of Bill’s money. The basketball guard seemed to be in a suddenly expansive mood.
“Man, you better get to know old Bill a little better,” Bucky joked, nodding in his direction. “He’ll give you some tuition money for academy if your dad won’t.”
Thursday’s road game against the rival Tornadoes was a completely different kind of contest. A subdued squad took the floor, fighting back a feeling of intimidation from being surrounded by hostile fans. Most of the Panthers were part of last year’s JV squad that had bested the Tornadoes in the finals. As Bucky examined the faces of the opposing players, he could see a thirst for revenge written on every face.
Bucky Stone: The Complete Adventure (Volumes 1-10) Page 54
