by Felice Arena
The second quarter begins. The gym erupts again, with deafening chants coming from both camps.
We get possession of the ball immediately. Charlie drives for the basket, not giving the Giants time to snap into defence mode. Great! He’s caught them off guard. Charlie swiftly passes it to Ryan, who’s open in the far left wing. He shoots. Swish! A big three-pointer! YES!
The Pennsbury fans jump to their feet. And so do I.
‘Way to go, Ryan!’ I shout. ‘Man-on-man defence! Forget zone!’
My teammates are fired up. What an awesome start to the quarter. That’s what they need – a real confidence boost.
Woah! A steal from Charlie and he finishes it off with an easy lay-up.
‘YES!’ I shout in chorus with the rest of the crowd.
The Manning High Giants look rattled as my teammates take advantage. Will and Dwayne join in the action – and score a couple of baskets each. And Bobby is rebounding like a fiend. Now they’re playing offensively!
I give Principal Franklin the thumbs-up as he glances back at me. By halftime, my beloved Panthers have clawed their way back into the game. The scoreboard now reads: Giants – 36, Panthers – 31.
At the halftime break, the cheerleaders from both schools hit the floor with their routines. The music is blaring.
‘It’s too loud!’ I say to Henry.
‘What?’ he mouths.
‘I said it’s LOUD!’ I shout over the heavy bass, thumping through the gym.
‘Who was fouled?’ says Henry.
‘Forget it!’ I sigh. ‘Let’s go down to the boys.’
Henry and I push through the crowd, down to my school’s change rooms. The mood in the rooms is good – spirits are high.
I walk over to Ryan. ‘Dude, you got the ball rolling. Nice one!’ I say, raising my hand for a high-five. ‘Don’t keep me hanging.’
Ryan screws up his face and reluctantly slaps me a high-five.
I turn to Charlie. ‘Charlie! You’re killing it out there. Keep it going!’
I put out my fist.
‘Um, thanks,’ he says, as he hesitantly fist-bumps me back.
‘George, thanks for that advice,’ says Principal Franklin, pulling Henry and me aside. ‘After all these years, you still have it. So, do you think we should keep playing offensively?’
‘Definitely.’ I nod. ‘Although, you may want to mix it up with Ryan and Elliot. When Ryan is playing well, swap Dwayne with Elliot on the bench. Elliot feeds off Ryan beautifully. And continue letting Charlie call the shots. Try to keep Bobby and Will dominating under the basket. Also, tell Dwayne to watch his passing. He turned it over a couple of times – but make sure you let him know we love his breakaways. We need more of that. You might also want to …’
I freeze as I see who’s just walked into the rooms.
It’s my dad.
Principal Franklin follows my gaze.
‘Jim!’ he calls, waving my father over to join us. ‘Jim, so good to see you. How’s Gus doing?’ asks Principal Franklin as he shakes my dad’s hand.
‘He’s stable, but still no sign of him waking,’ my father says solemnly. ‘I knew he’d want me to be here.’
‘We’re all thinking of him tonight,’ says Principal Franklin. ‘By the way, have you met George Cavendish? And you know Henry Anderson.’
‘Yes. Sorry for your loss, Henry. My son thought the world of Scott. He was a great teacher and coach. Hello, George.’ My dad just nods at me, with a suspicious look on his face.
‘I’ve got to go. I need to talk to the boys,’ says Principal Franklin. ‘George, is there anything else I should say to them?’
I shake my head. Henry also excuses himself to go and talk to some of the parents. My father is staring at me intently.
‘So, I hear you paid a visit to our house today,’ he says.
Oh, great! I knew Annie would rat on me. My dad’s probably called the police already and they’re on their way to arrest me for breaking and entering.
‘Um, yes, but I was … um …’ I stutter nervously.
‘Annie mentioned that you came by to see us while we were out.’
Hold on. It sounds as if my dad doesn’t know about the breaking-in part. Nice one, Annie.
‘So what did you want to discuss?’ my father asks. ‘I thought I made it clear that it would be best if you kept your distance.’
I lick my lips nervously. I’m shifting from foot to foot. I don’t know what to say, but I want to keep talking to my dad – I want him to like me. To like George. I put my hands in my pockets, and suddenly an answer comes to me.
‘Um, I came around to give you this,’ I say, pulling out my mobile phone. ‘It’s Gus’s. The police dropped it off to me, thinking it was mine. I said I would give it to you, since you only live a couple of blocks away.’
My father thanks me. His face softens. He looks tired and stressed. I want to hug him.
‘I’m sure Gus would be happy with how his teammates are playing,’ he says, making an effort to be friendlier to me. That’s what I like about my dad. He’s compassionate.
‘Yes, I’m very happy. I mean, he’d be happy, too,’ I stutter.
‘Go get ’em, boys!’ Principal Franklin shouts encouragingly.
Whoops and whistles echo in the rooms as my teammates jog back out onto the court. Henry and I return to our seats. My father sits on his own a few rows back.
The teams are ready to battle out the second half.
And what a battle it turns out to be. Both Manning and Pennsbury shift into another gear – basket after basket, the score stays tight. The crowd can’t get enough of what’s shaping up to be one of the best games of the season.
I’ve almost lost my voice from shouting. By the end of the third quarter the scores are locked at: Giants – 58, Panthers – 58.
When the fourth quarter begins, the Giants drastically pick up their defence game and momentarily shut us down. They take advantage of this and turn it over, sneaking in a couple of quick baskets.
‘Don’t let them get away!’ I yell, but my voice sounds croaky. ‘Stick to them!’
I can see that my teammates are starting to suffer physically. Will is gasping for air. And Ryan and Charlie’s fast dribbling has slowed right down. Fortunately, Bobby, with his offensive rebounds, and Elliot, with his clean top-of-the-key jump shots, are keeping us in the game. Just.
I’m now out of my seat. I can’t contain myself – no one can. Everyone is chanting and screaming as the clock counts down. There are only 53 seconds of the game left to go. The score’s tied again!
Principal Franklin shoots me a desperate look, ‘What do I do?’
‘Call a time-out!’ I mouth, gesturing a T-signal with my hands.
The ref blows his whistle. Pennsbury calls a time-out. Phew!
Principal Franklin shrugs a ‘now what?’ to me.
Good question. Now what? Then it comes to me – Bobby! Yes! I remember what he was doing during the pre-game warm-up.
‘Bobby! Get Bobby out from under the basket!’ I shout. ‘Tell Bobby to shoot Gus’s favourite shot. He’s the man!’
Principal Franklin nods. He gathers my teammates in a huddle. A few moments later, Bobby looks up at me. I give him a thumbs-up.
Time-out is over. We have possession of the ball. Charlie takes the ball down into our half. The Giants fans are chanting, ‘DE-FENCE! DE-FENCE! DE-FENCE!’
My heart is in my throat. Henry shakes my arm excitedly.
Charlie passes to Ryan. Ryan dribbles on the spot and almost turns it over. Woah! That was close.
Will has the ball. The clock reads twenty-one seconds. Bobby leaves the key. None of the Manning High players follow him. And why should they? To them, Bobby defends and rebounds, and only scores from inside. But now he’s wide open. Will tosses the ball out to Dwayne, who quickly shoots it out to Bobby, standing at the top of the three-point line.
Seven, six, five, four … the seconds tick down.
Bobby is free. He look
s up at the ring. The Giants panic. They know he’s going for it and charge for him. Bobby jumps and releases the ball. It’s over the trees … the ball floats … and SWISH!
Bobby makes the basket!
The Panthers’ supporters go berserk! Henry and I are jumping, or should I say bobbing, and hugging each other on the spot. Henry has tears in his eyes. He must be wishing his son was here to see this.
And there goes the buzzer! We won! We won! Semi-final here we come!
CHAPTER
18
‘George!’
I hear myself snort, and wake to see Doris in her nightgown standing over me.
I’m sprawled out on the couch and the morning sun is streaming brightly onto my face.
‘George? What are you doing out here?’ asks Doris. ‘You didn’t sleep out here all night, did you?’
It takes me a moment to get my bearings.
‘George?’
‘Um, of course not,’ I answer, sitting up.
The truth is I did sleep on the couch all night. When Henry dropped me off after the game – there was no way he was letting me drive again – Doris handed me a pair of pyjamas. It was only then that I realised I would have to share a bed with her.
So there I was, in George’s blue-and-white flannel pinstripe pjs in George and Doris’s bed. I pulled the covers over me, only to be told by Doris that I was on her side. I rolled over to the other side and turned my back to her as she hopped in.
‘Oh, Georgie,’ she whispered, moving closer to wrap her arms tightly around me.
I froze. This was not good. I wanted to get the hell out of there as fast as possible – but I couldn’t. I was petrified. I was literally in shock.
‘Oh, Georgie, I thought I was going to lose you and we would never have this again,’ she added. Then she kissed me on the back of my neck.
Arg! That got me moving! I jumped away and turned around, my eyes wide open – there was no way she was sneaking up on me again. But that only made it worse …
‘Oh, give me a kiss, you old dog,’ said Doris. She leaned into me, her wrinkles popping out above her top lip as she puckered up.
Nup! Nup! Nup! I jumped out of bed, stuttering about how I had a sudden bathroom crisis.
‘Sorry, Doris! If I don’t go I’m going to make a real mess,’ I said in a wobbly voice, dashing to the toilet and quickly locking the door behind me.
I stayed in there for what seemed like hours. When it finally felt safe to leave, the light was off and Doris was fast asleep. That’s when I decided to go and bunk out on the couch. Can you blame me?
‘Well, how about I get you some coffee?’ says Doris, sounding sad.
‘Sure,’ I say. ‘I’ll need it for the day I have planned.’
This is true. Henry is coming to get me this morning – we’re going to see his daughter-in-law, Coach Andersons hippy-chick psychic wife. If anyone can help me get out of this situation, she can.
Henry doesn’t really get why I need to see Mrs Anderson so badly. I told him that I didn’t get the chance to talk to her at the funeral and also that there was something personal I wanted to chat to her about, but he still looks a bit confused. I tell him I’ll call Gayle to come and pick me up when I’m done. Actually, I have no idea how I’m going to get home – I’m sure as hell not catching the bus again.
Mrs Anderson greets me at the front door of her house. She’s surprised to see me there.
‘Um, hello, Mrs Anderson,’ I say nervously. ‘Could I talk to you about something?’
‘Why are you calling me Mrs Anderson, George? Is everything okay?’ She studies me closely. ‘I sense you’re not yourself today.’
Okay. We’re off to a good start. That’s what I was hoping she’d say. ‘I’m not,’ I reply, following her into the living room. ‘That’s why I’m here. To talk to you about that.’
‘Sure, sure, anything,’ she replies.
‘And I really hope you can help me. I don’t know who else to turn to since it’s about spirits and stuff …’
I can tell by Mrs Anderson’s expression that I’ve caught her off guard.
‘Um, sure,’ she says. ‘Sorry if I seem taken aback, but you’ve never been interested in my work before. In fact, you’ve sometimes made fun of it.’
‘Yeah, well, if I were George, I’d apologise for that, but that’s the problem – I’m not George.’ There I’ve said it.
‘Sorry?’ she says, as if she didn’t quite hear me.
I repeat myself. And then I let the story pour out, relieved that I’m finally telling someone.
For a moment Mrs Anderson doesn’t react. Then she reaches out to touch my arm, and stares at me intensely.
‘So, um, do you believe me?’ I ask.
‘I should have recognised that aura,’ she says finally. ‘That bright soul.’ She stands up and leaves the room. When she returns, she places a book on my lap.
I read the title: The Story of Walk-Ins.
‘What’s this?’ I ask.
‘It’s what you just described,’ she says, her face lighting up. ‘I’ve heard and read stories over the years, but never in my life have I come across a true walk-in. This is so fantastic!’
‘I’m not sure how you get fantastic out of this,’ I say, ‘because it’s no party for me. Did you know I have hair in my ears and up my nose? It’s like I’ve got mini-hamsters in there.’
Mrs Anderson laughs out loud. ‘Oh, George! I mean, Gus! That’s too funny!’
‘Yeah, hilarious,’ I say.
‘Oh, don’t be offended, please. I don’t mean to make light of your situation. Look, many cultures, including the Native Americans, believe a walk-in is a person whose original soul has departed his or her body and has been replaced with a new soul.’
‘Seriously?’ I say. ‘There’s a term for what I’ve got, what’s happened to me? Does this mean I can walk back in to my own body?’
‘Well, that’s where it gets complicated.’ Mrs Anderson sighs heavily. ‘I’ve read that sometimes souls or spirits take up a new body to learn some lesson, or to complete something they couldn’t when they were in their own body.’
This seems crazy to me. ‘What would I have to learn or gain by being in an old man’s body?’
Mrs Anderson pauses and looks serious. She reaches out and takes my hands. ‘Maybe this whole thing has got to do with George. Maybe it’s his soul that won’t move on until something has been completed or achieved. Maybe you were just pushed out during the accident, when you were both knocked unconscious. Does that make sense?’
I nod, even though I have no idea what makes sense anymore. ‘What does he want?’ I ask.
‘That’s the big mystery. Is there anything he said to you before the crash that might suggest he had something in his life he wanted to resolve or achieve?’
‘Um, I’m not sure,’ I say, trying my best to remember. ‘We talked about basketball. He was really excited about my team making it to the finals. And he was kind of upset that…’
Then it hits me.
‘What? He was kind of upset about what?’ Mrs Anderson says, noticing my face drop.
‘He said he regretted losing the only grand final Pennsbury got in to – all those years ago. As the coach, he blamed himself. He said if my team won the overall championship, he could let the past go and die a happy man.’
‘That’s it then,’ she says, shaking her head in awe. ‘Pennsbury have to win the championship for George’s soul to be able to move on, or for him to walk back into his own body. Either way, we can’t contemplate getting you back to your body until that happens.’
‘And how am I going to do that exactly?’ I ask. ‘You know, without being in another bus crash?’
She shrugs, looking gravely concerned. ‘For now I’d just worry about making sure your team wins. Do you think they’re up to it?’
‘I hope so,’ I say. ‘Oh man, I hope so.’
CHAPTER
19
Part of me
feels better for seeing Mrs Anderson. It feels good to talk it out with someone who understands what I’m going through, but there’s another part of me that feels sick in the stomach. What if she’s right? What if my life really does depend on Pennsbury High winning? Because George is old – like heart-attack old. He doesn’t have much time left. Maybe only a few years. Talk about high stakes.
I ask Mrs Anderson to drive me to the hospital so she can try and speak to George’s spirit. I know it’s a massive long shot, but I’m desperate to try anything now.
‘Mrs Anderson,’ I ask, as we make our way through the hospital corridors. ‘Did you talk to Coach Anderson, like you said you would when I first met you?’
‘Honestly, Gus,’ she says, stopping to look at me. ‘You’ve got to call me Caroline – you’re my father-in-law’s best friend, remember?’ She walks on, but I can see that she’s tearing up. ‘I did talk to Scott, but only briefly,’ she says finally. ‘He told me he loved me.’
For a moment I’m surprised – she’s so business-like about talking to the dead as if it’s as common as brushing your teeth – but then I remember her crying at the funeral. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say.
‘No, it’s okay,’ she sniffs, wiping her eyes. ‘I miss him so much, but I know he’s in a better place now.’
Just as I’m about to ask where that better place is, one of the nurses that took care of me, Nurse Mackey, walks down the corridor.
‘Mr Cavendish, what are you doing back here?’ she asks.
‘I’m just here to visit a friend,’ I say, hoping she doesn’t ask who.
‘You mean the boy?’ she says, with a friendly smile.
I wonder if my parents have told her that I was warned to keep away, but she doesn’t try to stop me.
‘Visiting hours for non-family members don’t officially start for another half hour, but go on through,’ she says. ‘His family isn’t here yet, but he does have another early visitor, a teenage girl.’
A teenage girl? Really? It has to be Lilly, I think. For sure! Who else would it be? Maybe she’s been visiting me every day and she just didn’t want to admit that to an old dude.
I hurry to the room with Caroline behind me. This is awesome, I think. It’s just like in a movie – the girl of my dreams sitting lovingly by my side, waiting for me to wake up.
