Bad Shot

by Sylvia Taekema

  Cody paused at the gym doors. “Ah, Coach?”

  “Mr. Wallace, right? Janet’s boy?”

  Cody nodded.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “I was just wondering. How come you call me Cowboy?”

  “Your name’s Cody, right?”

  Cody nodded.

  “Ever heard of Buffalo Bill Cody?” Coach asked with a grin.

  Cody shook his head.

  “Look him up. Now there was a guy with a great shot. And he didn’t even play basketball.”

  Cowboy. Hmmm. Cody was still hoping to be the Wall.

  6

  The List

  All night long Cody worried about not making the team. He remembered every mistake, every missed shot.

  “What about all the times you didn’t miss?” asked his mother. “How about remembering those instead?”

  “There weren’t that many,” Cody answered glumly.

  “You told me Coach Evans said you had good passing skills.”

  “There’s more to basketball than that.”

  His mother shook her head and told him it would be fine. Cody tried hard not to think about that list, about the names that would be on it. And the ones that wouldn’t be.

  The next morning, Talal was waiting for Cody just outside homeroom. He looked serious. “Wally, come on,” he said in a low voice. “There’s something you’ve got to see. It’s crazy. You won’t believe this.”

  Talal pulled Cody down the hallway toward the gym. Cody could see there was a large sheet of paper

  taped to the double doors. The list was posted.

  He looked at Talal’s troubled face and his heart sank down into his shoes.

  “Check it out,” said Talal when they got close.

  Cody held his breath. Chargers Basketball, it read in large letters across the top of the page. Grade 7/8 Boys. There were twelve names. Raj Batra, Izaak Bookman, Darnell Davies, Eric Garneau, Talal Kahla, Stephan MacNeil, Malik Nagi, Nick Spinelli, Lucas Tamming, Dan Tanaka, Cody Wallace, Jamie Yeong.

  Cody sighed with relief.

  “Told ya it was crazy,” crowed Talal. “He picked you and me both, baby! Isn’t it awesome? Isn’t it the coolest?”

  “Yeah. The coolest. But, wow, my name is right near the bottom. I almost didn’t make it,” said Cody.

  Talal looked at him strangely. “It’s alphabetical, dude. Last names.”

  “Oh. Yeah.” Obviously, or Nick’s name would have been at number one. Cody scanned the list again. “It’s a good list. It’s gonna be a good team.”

  “Yeah, cuz we’re on it.” Talal put his hand up for a high-five.

  “Yeah,” said Cody, weakly slapping Talal’s hand. It wasn’t Talal’s name or his own that stood out for Cody. It was Nick’s.

  “Come on, man. You need to lighten up. This is what you wanted. Be happy already! Be happy for you. At least be happy for me.”

  “I am. I am.” Cody shook his head and grinned. What was the matter with him? He was happy.

  He couldn’t wait for the season to start. “When’s the first practice?”

  Talal peered at the bottom of the list. “Monday after school. My mom works Mondays. I’m going to have to bribe Farid with something to make sure he’s home to watch Simon.”

  Suddenly the gym doors banged open, and Talal nearly got his face flattened. “Oh good,” he said,

  rubbing his nose as Yeo-Jin and Allison came through. “I was going to enter a Voldemort look-alike contest. Now I’ll win for sure.”

  “What? Oh, sorry,” said Allison. “We were just taking some pictures for the school newspaper. Did you know Mr. Mendoza is setting up a worm farm in the gym equipment room?”

  Yeo-Jin shivered a little. She recovered quickly, but Cody had seen it. “What are you guys doing here?” Yeo-Jin asked.

  “Just checking to see who made this year’s basketball

  team,” Talal drawled. With a dramatic flourish, he pointed to the list on the door. “And do you see what I see? Cody’s name is on the list. Right here.” He stabbed at Cody’s name. “That’s no surprise, he’s practically NBA. But what’s this? My name is on here too.” He pointed it out, grinning, and leaned

  casually against the door with both hands in his pockets.

  “What do you think about that?” Talal shrugged. Suddenly, his feet went out from under him. He slid noisily down to the floor, peeling the list off the door as he went.

  “Well, I can see you’ve got some cool moves,” said Yeo-Jin, rolling her eyes. “Can’t wait to see you put those into action.”

  Talal rubbed an elbow. Yeo-Jin opened up her backpack, pulled out a roll of tape and stuck the sheet of paper back to the door.

  “What about me? No Band-Aids?” asked Talal.

  His face was red as a ripe tomato, but he was back on his feet.

  “Why? Are you bleeding?” asked Yeo-Jin. She looked Talal up and down, then dropped the tape back into her bag.

  “You always carry tape around with you wherever you go?” asked Talal.

  “There’s an answer to every problem,” she said. “You’ve got to be on top of things, or they fall apart.” She looked at Cody. “Do you need any help?”

  Yeo-Jin was very pretty, thought Cody. And she was very helpful. But he didn’t like being thought of as a problem she needed to fix. He shook his head.

  “Okay, then. Congrats on making the team.”

  “Thanks,” said Cody.

  “Yeah, thanks,” added Talal. He sighed loudly as he watched the girls disappear down the hallway.

  “I can tell they love me. All the girls do.”

  Cody snorted. “Whatever you say, Romeo. Are you coming to my house tomorrow to play some ball? We’ve got to be in good shape for Monday.”

  “You bet,” said Talal. “I think I’ll check my brother’s closet and see if he’s got any shoes I can use.”

  “Basketball shoes?”

  “Shoes with tread, my man. That floor is hard.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “I’ll give these to Charlie.”

  “Charlie needs shoes?”

  “Maybe he can recycle them into a new sports track for our school.”

  Cody grinned and started walking back to the classroom with Talal. He took one last backward glance at the list on the door and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “You’re right, Talal. Everything’s going to be great.”

  “I know. Just one question though.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Who’s Romeo?”

  7

  Starters

  Cody was stoked about going to his first team practice. That was until he saw Nick sitting on the floor beside the gym doors.

  “Wally!” called Nick, scrambling to his feet. He had a big smile on his face. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “You have?” Cody asked.

  “Of course. Come on.”

  Music blasted out of the loudspeakers as the team ran laps around the gym. Coach Evans had said tunes were fine for warmups and drills, but that they’d have to cut them for the scrimmages. Cody quickly joined the runners. Nick kept pace beside him. Talal was just ahead. His hair stuck up crazily behind his terrycloth headband and he was wearing running shoes Cody had never seen before. They were red, faded to orange, with neon laces and bright yellow mesh across the toes. They had colourful jelly-like soles that looked like compressed gummy worms. Cody caught up to Talal, who looked down at the shoes and then back up at his friend.

  “Yeah, I know. I was going to ask Farid when he’d had a career in the circus. But I thought maybe then he wouldn’t let me use his shoes at all. They’re a little big so I stuffed the toes with toilet paper. At least they have good grip.”

  Cody thought Nick might have something to say about Talal’s footwear, but Nick di
dn’t say a word.

  He just looked over at Cody and smiled.

  When everyone was huffing and puffing, Coach blew sharply on his whistle. “Go get a drink, boys. Then line up to do some shooting!” he hollered above the beat. He went to unlock the equipment room to get the basketballs.

  Right where we left off at tryouts, thought Cody. Free throws. And sure enough, just like at tryouts, Nick moved in to line up right behind Cody at the key.

  “Ready?” Nick asked.

  “Sure,” answered Cody. For what? he wondered.

  “Whoo-wee,” exclaimed Coach Evans. He pushed a bin full of balls with one foot while holding a stack of mini pylons. “What kind of funny business is going on in the equipment room? I popped the lid on a tote looking for these pylons and found a mess of shrivelled potato skins and soggy newspaper.”

  “It’s a worm farm,” said Talal.

  “Oh. Well, in that case, could you run back in there pronto on those new canoes of yours, Mr. Kahla, and put the lid back on. Tight. We want to keep those little wigglers where they belong.” He shuddered. “All right, the rest of you grab a basketball. We’re going to go through some drills. Then we’ll switch to a scrimmage and start learning how to play together as a team. I’ll be looking for a starting line-up, so show me again what you’re good at. Free throws first.”

  Starting line-up? Cool, thought Cody. But he was tense. At least half of his shots from the line hit the rim and bounced away. In a passing drill with Talal and Raj, he found himself jumping really high to snag ordinary throws.

  “Whoa there, Cowboy,” called Coach Evans. “Come on back down to where the potatoes grow.” He blew his whistle. “Switch it up.”

  Cody took a deep breath. Relax, he told himself. His new partners in the drill were Nick and Eric. The first time Nick sent the ball his way, he lobbed it over Cody’s head. It landed like a cannonball among the players behind them.

  “Sorry!” shouted Nick as Cody ran to recover

  the ball. “I was sure you were going to jump. Ready?”

  The next time, Nick put the ball in low. But it came in so fast it took Cody’s feet right out from under him and he landed hard on the gym floor. Nick came over to pull him up.

  “Just can’t seem to get it right,” Nick said, shaking his head and smiling. Cody wasn’t sure who he meant, but he had a pretty good idea.

  “Switch again,” hollered the coach.

  Nick and Eric moved off. Dan and Malik moved in. Cody tried to watch Nick in the drill with his new partners. Would he act the same with them? But then Cody almost took a ball to the stomach when Dan lobbed a pass his way. “Yo, earth to Wally. Get in the game.”

  Coach Evans blew his whistle. “Right. Some nice work, Chargers. And some things we need to work on. Take a seat at the bench for a bit.”

  The boys all tossed their basketballs back into the bin. They reached for their water bottles as they sat.

  “All righty,” said Coach. “Time for a scrimmage. Stephan, go cut the music, will you? What is that anyway?”

  “Rap,” said Izaak. “Nick hooked us up to his iTunes.”

  “It’s clean, Coach,” said Nick. “I read rap music is the best for basketball warmups. It helps players find their energy.”

  “Find their energy, huh? Okay. I prefer the classics myself. Anyway, now we need to concentrate. And what we’ve got to concentrate on is working together as a unit. We’ve got to know where everyone else is, what they’re up to, what they need. We’ve got to be there for each other, like one big, happy family. Nick, Darnell, Jamie, Cody, Lucas, you guys start on this end. The rest of you fellows take the other side. Malik, Izaak, prepare to sub in. I want to see lots of passing. We’re going to start putting together some plays.”

  Cody walked out onto the court.

  “I’m here for you,” said a voice behind him. It was Nick.

  I know, thought Cody. I can’t seem to get away from you.

  * * *

  The team had basketball practice twice a week. Sometimes, when Cody arrived, Nick would be waiting for him by the doors. Sometimes he would be sitting

  on the bench or waiting at the free-throw line. But no matter where he was, he would always call out Cody’s name when he walked in. And he would smile. He would be beside Cody when they ran laps, behind him in the drill line-up. Nick’s music would be blasting to the rafters. His Super.Flys would be glowing on his feet. His shots would slip through the mesh.

  But Cody, a guy who was used to shooting hoops as naturally as breathing, felt like he was having an asthma attack each time he entered the gym.

  At the end of practice one afternoon, Coach Evans called the boys to the bench. “I’ve got three announcements,” he said to the circle of panting

  players. “Number one, our league play starts in January, but I’ve scheduled one game before the Christmas break. I called up a friend of mine and he’s bringing his team down from Dresden. My friend got laid off at the end of October and, while he’s looking

  for work, he’s volunteered to coach a team there.

  So you’ll play the Dresden Dragons on Wednesday.”

  An excited hum buzzed around the circle.

  “Secondly,” Coach continued, “I’ve been thinking about bringing in an assistant coach. The game schedule’s been set, and it would be great to have another person on board to help out. I’ve got the perfect name in mind. I just have to make a call. So stay tuned.”

  Coach looked down at his clipboard. “Finally, I’ve picked a starting line-up. Darnell, Jamie, Nick, Raj and Dan.” There was a flurry of high-fives. “All right, guys. We’ve got one more rehearsal before show time. I’ll see you next practice. Get your game faces ready.”

  The players walked toward the change rooms. Talal pushed in close to Cody. His eyes were dark, his forehead furrowed. “You’re not on the starting line-up? You should be. What gives?”

  Nick came up on Cody’s other side. “What about that starting line-up, Wally? I thought for sure you’d be on it.”

  Nick’s words were not all that different from Talal’s. But they didn’t sound the same. Cody shrugged and tried not to worry about it. He wasn’t playing like he wanted to, but they still had a long way to go. Games were starting. Coach was bringing in an assistant. Maybe that would help.

  8

  New Assistant Coach

  “Cody.”

  Cody was just about to shoot. Uh-oh. He knew his mom had called him for dinner. But that was only two minutes ago, wasn’t it? Cody had been practicing free throws. Maybe ten minutes had gone by without him knowing. He held the ball and watched his mom march down the sidewalk toward him.

  “Give me that ball,” she ordered. Cody tossed the ball to her, thinking he wasn’t going to see it again for a week.

  She caught it and swished it. Then she snatched it off the bounce and swished it again. “Come on,” she said. “The spaghetti is ready, and there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

  Cody put the basketball back in the garage and followed his mother into the house. He washed his hands and sat down at the table.

  “I got a call from your basketball coach,” she began. She scooped noodles onto his plate.

  Cody was filled with a sense of dread. Why had Coach called? Was he taking Cody off the team?

  “He asked if I would help out with the team.”

  Cody stared at his mother. “Help with the team?” It suddenly dawned on him what she meant. “He wants you as his assistant coach? Why?”

  “I know a thing or two about basketball, young man.”

  “I know that, but how does Coach Evans know that?”

  “I’ve known Earl for ages, since high school. He grew up on a farm just outside of town. A couple of friends and I worked there during the summers, weeding and picking. He ran the family fruit and

  vegetable
stand along the highway. He used to use these goofy expressions about beans and corncobs. Does he still do that?” Cody’s mom smiled. “We had a lot of fun back then. He even asked me to the year-end dance on the last day of Grade Ten. But I couldn’t go because I was leaving for summer basketball camp that night. The dance had a fairytale theme, I think. Maybe he feels I still owe him one.” She laughed.

  Cody squinted. He was trying to picture Coach Evans as Prince Charming. It wasn’t working. Cody knew his mom had been a basketball star in high school. He’d seen her picture in the yearbooks. Below the picture it said: Janet Baines, Team Captain, MVP. She had played for the Panthers. Cody wondered if he’d see a younger Coach Evans if he scanned the faces of the fans in pictures taken at the games. They were pretty fuzzy.

  “What do you think, Cody? You don’t mind, do you? This way I’ll always have a great seat at the games. But I won’t do it if you don’t want me to.”

  What kid in his right mind would want his mom to be the assistant coach of his basketball team? But Cody could tell she wanted to do it, so he just smiled.

  He told her that no, he didn’t mind, that it would be great. “But what about work?” he asked.

  Almost all the money coming into the Wallace household came from Cody’s mother. She was a

  bookkeeper. She had a square sign at the road and an

  office off the kitchen. She probably could have gotten a job in a bigger city, like London or Windsor. But she always said that Chatham was a good place to raise kids. They lived in the house she’d grown up in, and she said she’d never find another one like it anywhere. There was lots of room in the rambling, old house for her office.

  It was just Cody and his mother there now.

  “I hear you talking on the phone sometimes,” he continued. “Talking about payments. I don’t understand everything you’re saying, about pensions and insurance and stuff. But I know that money is tight.”

  “Oh, Cody,” said his mother. “I don’t want you to worry. When the truck plant pulled out of town, your dad and Talal’s dad and so many others were laid off. There were a lot of things to sort out and a lot of stress. Then your dad had the heart attack, and things got even harder. But we’re okay, Cody. We’re just fine. I’ve got lots of clients and Kenny’s on his own.”