by Phil Bildner
“Look out below!” Diego shouted.
With the ball raised over his head, he charged off the diving board and leaped toward the hoop.
“Boom! In your…”
Splash!
Night Talk
“Can a ram kill me, Charlie ‘Mega-Man’ Roth?” Red asked.
“Definitely,” Mega-Man answered.
“What about a deer?” Red said. “Can a deer kill me?”
“Definitely,” Mega-Man said again.
Diego and I cracked up.
We were in our hotel room playing can-this-animal-kill-me. It’s not really a game, but it felt like one. Red was twirling a mini-basketball in his lap on the cot at the foot of my bed. He had a cot because Red doesn’t like sharing a bed. Mega-Man and Diego had the other bed. Mega-Man was sitting against the headboard. Diego was perched on the edge of the mattress. I had the other big bed all to myself. I had given up trying to spin a basketball on my finger and was just relaxing.
“Can a falcon kill me?” Diego asked.
“Definitely,” Mega-Man said.
“A falcon can’t kill me.” He picked up a mini plastic football and started tossing it at the ceiling.
“Yes, it can,” Mega-Man said.
“The peregrine falcon can dive at two hundred miles per hour. It would take you out like that.” He snapped his fingers. “But peregrine falcons mostly go for ducks.”
Suddenly, Diego dove onto my bed. “Odell!” he shouted as he pretended to make a diving catch.
Diego had been diving from bed to bed like that for a while. Each time, he called out the name of another wide receiver, like “Dez!” or “Megatron!” or “Amari!”
I checked the connecting door. We’d closed it about a half hour ago when Ms. Yvonne and the girls went back to their suite down the hall. When they left, Coach Acevedo had told us not to stay up much longer. At any moment, I was expecting him to pop in and tell us to keep it down or to say “Lights out.”
“What about an owl?” I asked. “Can an owl kill me?”
“Some owls fly super fast,” Mega-Man said. “They could dive-bomb into you like a peregrine falcon and take you out. Owl vomit looks like turd.”
“Turd!” Diego dove back onto his bed.
“Turd!” Red and I said at the same time.
We all laughed. Some words make fifth graders laugh. They just do.
I stared at Mega-Man. He was finally talking. He still seemed strange, but not nearly as strange as he did on the bus and at the pool. I think he liked it better with fewer kids around.
“How do you know so much about animals?” Diego asked.
Mega-Man laughed. “Wild Kratts!”
“Yo, I used to love that show,” Diego said.
“Me too, Diego Vasquez,” Red said. “I used to watch Wild Kratts all the time.”
“My aunt is a veterinarian,” Mega-Man added. “During the summer, I work at her animal hospital. I’m working there next week over vacation.”
“What do you do there, Charlie ‘Mega-Man’ Roth?” Red asked.
“He picks up turds!” I said, laughing.
“Steaming fresh turds!” Diego bounced to his knees.
We all laughed again.
“I do all different things.” Mega-Man adjusted the pillow behind his head. “One time, I got to watch a horse give birth. This other time, there was this goat that got really sick and…” He stopped and looked at Diego. “Did you think you were going to die?”
The basketball rolled off my finger and onto the floor.
“What?” Diego asked.
“You’re the kid with cancer, right?” Mega-Man said.
“Yeah.” Diego gripped the mini football.
“I’ve never met anyone my age with cancer,” Mega-Man said.
“Yeah, you have.” Diego sat down.
I placed my palms on the bed. I’d never heard anyone ask Diego about his cancer. Not like this. I checked Red. He was pinky-thumb-tapping his leg. His eyes were glued to Diego.
“What was the worst part?” Mega-Man asked.
“Probably when I found out how bad it was. Or maybe when I first heard the word cancer. Or…” He paused. “I don’t know. There were lots of worst parts.”
Whenever anyone talked about Diego being sick, it always used to freak me out. Especially when they said the word cancer. But right now, I wasn’t freaked out at all. Come to think of it, I hadn’t been the other day at practice either.
I stared at Mega-Man. He was asking the questions I wanted to know the answers to but would never ask. Not in a gazillion years.
What’s it like having Coach Crazy for a father? Does he act like that at home? Did that ref press charges?
Those were the questions I wanted to ask Mega-Man but never would. Not in a gazillion years.
“One of the worst parts was also one of the best parts,” Diego said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“My uncle was one of the worst parts,” Diego said softly. “What I put him through, what I put him and my moms through. Yo, my uncle was there for me the whole time. The whole time.” He picked at the tip of the football. “My uncle was also one of the best parts because … he’s a hero. A real hero. I wouldn’t be here without him. My uncle is the best.”
“Ducks are the best,” Mega-Man blurted.
Diego and I looked at one another. “What?” we said at the same time.
“Ducks are my favorite animals,” Mega-Man said.
“Where did that come from?” Diego asked.
“They are.” Mega-Man pulled the buds off his neck and put them on the table between our beds. “Next week, my aunt’s taking me to this pond to check out the ducks.”
Diego laughed. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?” Mega-Man asked.
“One minute you’re asking me if I thought I was going to die, and the next minute you’re talking about duck ponds! What are you going to talk about next, oyster poop?”
“Oyster poop!” Red and I said together.
I laughed so hard I rolled off my bed. Red rolled off his cot. Yeah, Red was on the floor. Up until a few months ago, Red would never even sit on a floor.
“Ducks don’t have thingies,” Mega-Man said.
“Thingies?” I said.
“You know,” Mega-Man said, pointing to his privates.
“Get out!” Diego said, popping back up. “How can they not?”
“They don’t.”
“Who told you that?” I asked.
“They don’t,” Mega-Man said. “Their thingies are like corkscrews and—”
“Ha!” I cut him off. “So they do have thingies.”
“Thingy, thingy, thingies!” Diego plopped back down.
Mega-Man shook his head. “When they’re about to mate, they unfurl and circle around the females.”
“Stop!” Diego laughed. He rolled off the bed and landed between Red and me. “I can’t take it!”
“Their thingies are really big,” Mega-Man said. “They have to keep them inside their body.”
Diego, Red, and I laughed harder and louder. I rolled onto Diego and kicked my feet against the side of the mattress.
Mega-Man crawled to the end of the bed and looked over at us. “Mallards are sexually dimorphic.”
“Sexually dimorphic!” Diego smacked the floor with both hands.
“A lot of songbirds are,” Mega-Man said.
“What does that even mean?” I asked.
“Males and females look different. Males have dark and shiny green heads with yellow bills. Females are brown with orange and brown bills. One sex—”
“Sex!” Red laughed harder than I’d ever seen him laugh. “Charlie ‘Mega-Man’ Roth said sex!”
Bumper-Vators
I gripped the doorknob. In a moment, we were leaving the hotel room and heading down to breakfast. Then it was off to the Showdown.
Then I was going to see him.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Diego
shouted, leaping from bed to cot to bed.
Diego had been bouncing around the room from the second he got up. He woke Mega-Man and me by hitting us with a pillow. He was about to do the same to Red, but I’d stopped him just in time.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Diego bounded to Red and double-high-fived him. “It’s Showdown Saturday!”
“Oh, yeah!” Red said. “It’s Showdown Saturday.”
It was Showdown Saturday, but my stomach felt like it did Halloween night when I ate those twenty bite-size Three Musketeers.
“Move, move, get out of the way!” Diego shoved me aside and opened the door. “Yes, yes, yes!” He charged down the hall toward the elevator. “Breakfast!” he shouted. “All-you-can-eat bacon and sausage!”
Mega-Man and Red raced after him. I followed. When I reached the elevator, Diego was still trying to press the Down button by jump-kicking it. I shoulder-shoved him out of the way and pushed it.
A few seconds later the doors opened.
“Wait for us!” Maya called from the other end of the hall.
“You’d better hurry,” Diego said to the girls coming out of their room.
I stepped onto the elevator and pressed the Door Open button. “We’re holding it,” I said, shoving Diego again.
He pushed me back and knocked me into the button panel. “Bumper-vators!”
“Dag,” I said.
“Bumper-vators!” he repeated.
“Bumper what?”
“It’s a game.” Diego bobbed his head and smiled. “You’ll see.”
I wasn’t in the mood for Diego’s bumper game, whatever it was. Then again, I wasn’t in much of a mood for anything.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” Ms. Yvonne said as she and the girls reached the elevator.
“The ladies have arrived!” Maya said. “Let’s get this party started!”
Ms. Yvonne looked at Red. “You okay on here, honey?”
Red stood against the back wall, looking up at the ceiling and pinky-thumb-tapping his leg. Red doesn’t like tight quarters. The other times we rode the hotel elevator, Mega-Man, Diego, and I had been the only ones with him.
Ms. Yvonne stepped around Mega-Man and Mimi and moved next to Red.
“When I was in the hospital,” Diego said as the door closed, “these kids taught me this game called bumper-vators.”
Maya made a face. “Why do I already know I’m not going to like it?”
The elevator started moving.
“You pretend you’re a bumper car at an amusement park,” Diego said. He pushed me again, harder than last time. My cheek hit the panel, and I knocked into Mega-Man.
“Dag!” I said.
With both forearms, I shoved him back. Diego stumbled into Zoe and A-Wu, who slammed into the back wall.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Diego laughed.
“Guys, I don’t think this is such a good idea,” Ms. Yvonne said.
“This is bumper-vators.” Diego shoulder-shoved Mega-Man into the wall and then charged me.
“No!” Ms. Yvonne shouted.
“No, no, no!” I blocked Diego’s hands and grabbed one of his wrists. “No, no, no!” With my basketball eyes, I pointed to Red.
He was squatting in the corner behind Mimi and Maya. He had his arms in front of his head like a boxer covering up.
“Game over!” Ms. Yvonne said firmly. “Enough.”
“No bumper-vators!” I said.
“No bumper-vators.” Diego held up his arms. “Game over.”
“Red, no more bumper-vators,” I said.
“Honey, honey, honey,” Ms. Yvonne said. She touched Red’s shoulder. “It’s okay.” She shot Diego a look. “You need to calm down!”
“Game over,” Diego said again. “Yo, my bad, Red. Game over.”
Ping.
The L on the button panel lit.
Ms. Yvonne kneeled next to Red. “Honey, it’s okay.”
Red was shaking. His arms covered his face. His fists tapped his head.
The doors opened.
“You okay, Red?” I squatted in front of him and put my hand on his shoulder as most of the others got off.
“No bumper-vators,” he said. “No bumper-vators, no bumper-vators.”
“No bumper-vators, Red,” I said. “No more bumper-vators.”
“Honey, no more bumper-vators,” Ms. Yvonne said. “I promise.”
“No bumper-vators,” Red kept saying. “No bumper-vators.”
“Yo, my bad, Red,” Diego said. “That was uncool of me. My bad.”
“That was a very poor decision.” Ms. Yvonne shook her head at Diego.
He frowned. “My bad.”
“You okay, Red?” I asked again.
Slowly, he lowered his arms.
“You boys need to calm down,” Ms. Yvonne said. “You can’t go into breakfast out of control like this.” She rubbed Red’s back. “Take your time, honey.”
“I’m okay,” he said softly.
“It’s all good, Red,” I said.
“Sorry, Red,” Diego said, grimacing.
“I’m okay, Diego Vasquez.” Red loosened his fists. “I’m okay.” He let out a long breath and dropped his shoulders.
“Take your time, honey,” Ms. Yvonne said again.
Red looked from me to Diego and slowly stood. “I’m okay.”
“Honey, here’s what we’re going to do,” Ms. Yvonne said. “You and I are going to take a little walk before we go in to breakfast. We’re going to get some fresh air, okay?”
Red nodded.
“Let me go run ahead and tell Coach Acevedo,” she said, stepping off the elevator. “I’ll be right back.”
“You’d better be,” Diego said, leaping off the elevator. “It’s all-you-can-eat sausage and bacon!”
I gave Red a double pound. “You good?”
“I’m good, Mason Irving.”
I stepped off the elevator and stopped dead in my tracks.
Who’s Your Daddy?
“Hey, pal!”
I opened my mouth to speak, but words didn’t follow. I was standing face-to-face with him.
“Look at you!” he said, smiling proud. He stepped toward me with his arms out.
I backed away.
“Look at you,” he said again. He placed his hands on his head. “You must’ve grown half a foot since last time I saw you.”
“What are you doing here?” I said. I was trembling. He had to see that I was.
“I can’t get over you,” he said. “Last time I saw you, you were up to here.” He held the side of his hand to his chest and reached out with the other. “Check out those dreads.”
“Dag.” I ducked away.
“Respect.” He held up his hand. “They look great on you, pal.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked again.
“Lesley told you I was coming. You knew I—”
“Here,” I interrupted. “What are you doing here? At the hotel?”
“I figured I’d come by and introduce myself. Maybe grab some grub.”
I dug my hands into my pouch pocket and hid my shaking fists.
He looked exactly as I remembered. Exactly. He was wearing jeans again, but this time he had on a zipped-up brown bomber jacket and white sneakers.
“I can’t get over how tall you’ve gotten.” He gripped the back of his neck and looked to my left. “You must be one of … Red? No way!”
I was so focused on my father I’d forgotten Red was beside me. His neck was turtled deep into his hoodie. Both his hands pinky-thumb-tapped his legs. I didn’t know if it was because of my father, because of the elevator, or both.
“Good to see you, Red.” My father held out his hand.
Red’s hands didn’t leave his legs. “Hi, Rip’s Dad.”
“He doesn’t bite,” Diego said.
Diego was on the other side of me. I’d forgotten he was here, too.
“And who might you be?”
“I’m Diego Vasquez.” He held out his h
and.
My father shook it. “David Irving. Nice to meet you, Diego Vasquez.”
“Thanks for helping out Clifton United,” Diego said, resting his arm on my shoulder. “We really appreciate it.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
“Rip’s a beast on the court, Mr. Irving.” Diego tapped my chin with his elbow. “Wait till you see him play. Lives up to his Rip Hamilton nickname.”
“Rip Hamilton nickname?” He eyed me.
“Rip Hamilton,” Diego said. “Old-school Detroit Pistons player.”
“Interesting.”
I tightened my shaking fists and pressed my knuckles together.
“No offense, Mr. Irving,” Diego said, bobbing his head, “but you weren’t what I was … You and Rip look nothing alike.”
He smiled. “We get that a lot.”
“We do?” I snapped.
“We used to.” He reached for my shoulder.
I dodged it.
My father was white with light hair. I’m black with dark hair.
“I can’t wait to see you run ball, pal,” he said, smiling proud again.
“Okay.”
“I’m looking forward to spending the day with the team.”
“Yeah.”
He gripped the back of his neck and glanced over his shoulder. “I tell you what,” he said, “I think it might be easier if I meet everyone over at Hoops Haven. Sound good?”
“Whatever.”
“I’ll see you over there.” He held out his fist.
I left him hanging.
Breakfast of Champions
“Brrrr,” Diego said, rubbing his arms and pretending to shiver. “That was chilly.”
I placed my elbows on the table and pressed my palms to my temples.
Diego bobbed his head and smiled. “You and your dad seem really tight.”
We were the only ones at our circular booth next to the area where the breakfast buffet was served. The rest of Clifton United was getting their food or sitting at the long, high table that cut across the lobby.
I was shaking. I hadn’t stopped since the elevator.
“No way are you going to eat all that,” Maya said, walking up and motioning to Diego’s tray.
