Blood And Basketball Janice Greene
SERIES 3
SERIES 1
Black Widow Beauty Danger on Ice Empty Eyes The Experiment Kul...
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Blood And Basketball Janice Greene
SERIES 3
SERIES 1
Black Widow Beauty Danger on Ice Empty Eyes The Experiment Kula‘i Street Knights The Mystery Quilt No Way to Run The Ritual The 75-Cent Son The Very Bad Dream
The Bad Luck Play Breaking Point Death Grip Fat Boy No Exit No Place Like Home The Plot Something Dreadful Down Below Sounds of Terror The Woman Who Loved a Ghost SERIES 4
SERIES 2
The Accuser Ben Cody’s Treasure Blackout The Eye of the Hurricane The House on the Hill Look to the Light! Ring of Fear Tiger Lily Code Tug-of-War The White Room
The Barge Ghost Beasts Blood and Basketball Bus 99 The Dark Lady Dimes to Dollars Read My Lips Ruby’s Terrible Secret Student Bodies Tough Girl
Development and Production: Laurel Associates, Inc. Cover Art: Black Eagle Productions
Three Watson Irvine, CA 92618-2767 Website: www.sdlback.com Copyright ©2005 by Saddleback Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher. ISBN 1-56254-739-9 Printed in the United States of America 10 09 08 07 06 05
987654321
Carl, the owner of the Jackson Eagles, punched a button on the remote control. “Just look at this,” he said. Ed, the coach, turned to watch. On the screen, a player with floppy blond hair twisted away from a guard and scored. His moves were amazingly quick. “Yeah, Dale Curtis,” Ed said. “I’ve seen him. I don’t want him.” “Come on, man!” Carl said. “He could be the next Larry Bird!” “He’s a problem waiting to happen,” Ed said. “The kid is only 18, just out of high school. And he’s on his own—no family. The word is he’s been living with a neighbor or something.” “But the team’s like a family,” Carl went on. “Once he’s on the team—” 3
“Once he’s on the team, he’s an instant millionaire,” Ed interrupted. “He’s instantly famous. It’s too much for most kids. Remember Reed Stevenson?” Carl frowned. At first, young Stevenson had been a great player. Then he’d discovered gambling and drugs. It had been an ugly year-and-ahalf for the Mississippi team. “I’m not cleaning up after another kid like that,” Ed insisted. Carl stared at the screen. Dale spun through the key and left the floor effortlessly. He seemed to float toward the basket. Below him, a guard’s mouth dropped open. The ball swished through the net, sweet and clean. “Maybe Will Bishop would take him on as a roommate,” Carl suggested. “Bishop had it tough growing up, too. But he’s a real steady guy. He could be like an older brother.” Ed disagreed. “Dale’s older brother, Bode, is the only family the kid has. 4
And Bode can’t stay out of trouble. He’s doing 18 months in maximum security for stabbing some guy.” “So he’s locked up,” Carl said. “Nothing to worry about.” “Unless he blows it, he’s out on parole next week,” Ed went on. Carl held up his hand. “Ed, look,” he said. “I appreciate your concerns, but we need Curtis on the team.” “Whatever you say, boss,” Ed said sarcastically. Carl’s face reddened. “If he messes up, I promise you that he’s out—no matter how good he is, okay?” “Let’s see if he lasts a month,” Ed muttered darkly.
Dale
Curtis stepped into the Eagles’ locker room. A smiling player with curly brown hair walked up to him. “Hey, you’re Dale Curtis, aren’t you? I’m Will Bishop.” Will’s voice was 5
light and warm. “Come and meet the Eagles.” A group of players were getting dressed. “You’ve seen most of these guys on TV,” Will said, “so you know how they play. But I can tell you all their dark secrets.” “I heard that,” a thick-set player said as he threw a shoe at Will. Will laughed and dodged. “This is Rick James,” Will said. “Rick knows every sick joke on the planet.” Rick grinned and winked. “And this,” Will said as he pointed to a towering African-American man with cornrows, “is Tyrone.” “That’s handsome Tyrone to you, man,” Tyrone said with a smile. “And this is Yuri,” Will said. “He’s got the grossest socks in the league.” “Ha!” Yuri laughed. “Your socks could make a pig pass out, Bishop!” And so it went. The players smiled and shook Dale’s hand. But Dale could 6
see the question behind all their smiles: Does this kid have what it takes to play for the Eagles? Dale knew he’d have to prove himself. To Dale, the practice gym was like another world. The place was huge and perfectly equipped. Soft light came from windows high above. On the floor, assistants were passing balls to players. Others players lined up for shots. Dozens of shoes squeaked on the spotless floor. Dale’s chest was tight with wonder and excitement. You’re here! You made it! a voice inside him cried out. Will walked up beside him and said, “Looks good, doesn’t it?” “Sure does,” said Dale. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” “Hey—it looks like we’re gonna be roommates,” Will went on. “What?” Dale said. “Don’t take this personally, buddy, but I’m getting my own place. I can afford it now.” 7
“Sorry, man,” Will said. “The coach wants you staying with me.” Dale was upset. “Well, that’s just too bad!” he said. “I’m on my own.” Will nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said. “Go ahead and tell the coach that he’ll be taking orders from you now.” Dale gritted his teeth. “I’ve never heard of any pro being assigned a roommate. Why do I have to?” “ ’Cause you’re the youngest guy the Eagles have ever signed,” Will explained. “If you stay out of trouble, you can get a place by yourself.” “What makes them think I’m gonna get in trouble?” Dale grumbled. Will gave him a long look. His voice was cool as he said, “Let’s just see if you last a week.” “Hey, Curtis!” one of the assistants called out. “Come over here and shoot some foul shots.” Dale sank one shot after another. As always, just the feel of the ball in 8
his hands made him feel better. The night his father had walked out, he’d headed straight for the gym. There, the comforting pock . . . pock sound of bouncing basketballs blotted out the memory of his father’s shouts and his mother’s tears. Some time later, he came home exhausted and fell asleep in minutes. If his mother was still crying, he didn’t hear her.
Dale
peered out Will’s front window. Still no Bode. He should have arrived hours ago. Dale couldn’t wait to move to his own place. Will had rules—a lot of them. Yet Will himself was generous and smart. He told Dale a lot about his teammates and how they played. And he seemed to know everything about the rival teams. Dale was at the window again when a rental car pulled into the driveway. 9
“Bode!” he yelled. He ran outside just as his brother opened the car door. For a moment, the brothers just stared at each other. Bode was sixeight, an inch shorter and 40 pounds heavier than Dale. His arms were covered with tattoos. A thick scar encircled his wrist like a bracelet. Dale smelled alcohol when he hugged Bode. “Get on in here!” he said to his brother. “You hungry? Got lots of stuff to eat here!” “Nah,” Bode said, as they walked inside. “I just want to be out of that car for a while.” “I’m gonna get you a car!” Dale said excitedly. “Something real cool—with leather and everything.” “That’d be real nice, Dale,” he said as he grinned at his brother. “Look at you—a rich guy! It’s like a dream, huh?” “As long as I don’t wake up, it’s okay with me,” Dale agreed. “Fine-looking place,” Bode said as 10
he looked around the large living room. “That TV is as big as a fireplace! There’s nothing like that in the hole. We didn’t even get cable.” Dale punched the remote until he found a basketball game. The New Jersey Nets were playing the Miami Heat. “I’ll get you a TV, too,” he said, “even bigger than this.” Bode smiled. “You got a good heart, kid. Not like most people. But now that you’ve got money—watch out. People you’ve never even heard of, so-called friends—they’ll all be calling.” “They already have,” Dale said. “I changed my number yesterday.” “That’s the smart thing!” Bode said. “Never trust anybody except your own flesh and blood.” Dale turned back toward the TV screen. “Hey, good one!” he said as a player dropped a long shot into the hoop. He jacked up the sound. “You could wipe that guy off the 11
court,” Bode said as he flopped onto the couch. “Oh, I don’t know,” Dale laughed. “You’re way better!” Bode insisted. “You . . .” Then suddenly Bode was up on his feet. Dale turned around to see Will coming in the door with a bag of groceries. Will was frozen in place, staring at Bode—who now had a thick, ugly knife in his hand! “Bode, it’s okay!” Dale cried out. “It’s just Will, my roommate.” “Don’t ever sneak up on me, man!” Bode growled. “You’re risking your life, man—I swear it!” “Got it,” Will said quietly. “Now put away the knife.” Will and Bode glared at each other. “Sorry, Will. We didn’t hear you come in,” Dale hurried to explain. “This is my brother, Bode.” “So you’re out of prison,” Will said. “Good for you.” 12
“Yeah. And I’m never going back, either,” Bode grunted. “Great,” Will said. “But you better cool down, man. I don’t want anybody getting stabbed just for walking in my door.” “And I don’t take orders, punk!” Bode responded angrily. “Come on, Bode!” Dale interrupted. “Let’s go out and get something to eat.” Will looked worried. “Just make sure you’re on time for practice tomorrow,” he reminded Dale. “What? You think you’re his mother or something?” Bode taunted. “Bode, come on,” Dale pleaded. In the car, Dale tried to explain. “You gotta go easy on Will, Bode. It’s like a probation thing—since I’m only 18. If I do okay, they’ll let me get a place on my own.” Bode swore. “You should be staying with me! I’m blood! Soon as I get a place, you’re moving in with me. I don’t want you with some stranger.” 13
“Will’s okay,” Dale said. “What do you feel like eating?”
They
never did go out to dinner. Bode stopped at a liquor store where Dale ran into Cici, the sister of one of his new teammates. She invited the brothers to a party. The house was jammed. Dale looked around for some of his teammates, but he didn’t see anyone he knew. In a hoarse whisper, Bode said, “Stay close, okay? I don’t want anyone coming up right behind me. When you’re in the hole, you learn to watch your back.” Dale nodded. Bode poured him a drink and drew him into the crowd. “This man here is Dale Curtis—the greatest basketball player that ever walked the earth!” Bode bragged. “Ever seen him play?” “Never, ever,” said a tall woman 14
named Nikki. Her dress was purple and her hair was orange and spiky. “Well, then, we just better get a game going!” Bode said with a wink. “All right!” a ponytailed man cried out in a booming voice. “I don’t see any hoops around here,” the orange-haired woman said. She gave Bode a coy, challenging look. Bode playfully rolled a napkin into a ball and tossed it at her glass. With one hand, she jerked her glass away. With the other, she neatly caught the balled-up napkin and aimed it at Bode’s glass. “Hold still!” she commanded. “Guard her!” Bode called out. A woman standing nearby stepped in front of Nikki. Nikki laughed and butted the woman with her head. “Nikki! Over here!” the man with the ponytail yelled. Nikki passed to him but another man intercepted. He took a shot at Nikki’s glass. Jumping 15
back to catch it, Nikki slammed into a man behind her. The man grabbed Nikki’s glass, spilling half her drink. By now, a large circle of people, laughing and shouting, were in on the game. The party got crazier as the night went on. Bode filled Dale’s glass again and again. It was so crowded he kept stepping on people’s feet. Nikki fell on a lamp and broke it. When Cici told her to leave, Nikki started shouting and Cici yelled back. Dale fell asleep on the way home. He’d tried to remember to set the alarm clock before going to bed. But it was nine o’clock when he woke up. He was late for practice. An hour late. Dressing in a panic, he felt dizzy and sick. He raced to the practice gym and walked in slowly, hoping no one would notice. Rick snickered when he saw him. Then Will came up and said, “Coach wants you in his office.” 16
Ed was hunched over his computer. He glanced at Dale, then turned back to the screen. “You’re suspended,” he snapped. “Come back in three days.” His voice was distant and cold. Dale waited for him to say more, but the coach’s eyes stayed glued to the computer screen. Dale threw up on the way back to his car. Later, after practice, Will said, “Maybe we should start placing bets, Dale. Think you can last another week on the team?” Dale was too miserable to answer. Bode was outraged when he heard that Dale had been suspended. “They act like you’re just some kid off the street,” he said. “Just a nobody!” Dale said, “I am just a nobody until I start helping the team.” “No, you’re the star!” Bode said. “You’re better than any of them.” Dale grinned. Bode had always been good at making him feel better. 17
Three
days later, Dale was back on the practice court. Three days after that, the Eagles left for New York. Their first game of the season was against the New York City Hawks. Dale found himself matched up with Burnell Simms, one of the quickest guys in the NBA. Two minutes into the game, Dale was guarding Simms. The net was clear. Dale moved to block him—too late! The ball swished through the basket and the crowd whooped. Simms stole the ball from Dale twice. Again and again, he was able to slip away from Dale and score. But the rookie was learning. Dale was getting better at spotting him. By halftime, though, the Hawks led, 50 to 22. In the locker room Dale was pacing, full of nervous energy. Will came up to him and said, “You’re gaining on him.” Dale smiled. “Yeah, but I haven’t quite got him yet,” he answered. 18
“Don’t worry, you will,” Will said in a confident voice. Dale sat down and turned a ball slowly in his hands. His breath became calm and slow. Yeah, I’m gonna catch him, he whispered to himself. Next time Dale had the ball, Simms lunged for it. Just as Simms’ fingers brushed the ball, Dale swerved away and took his shot. The ball missed, but Will was under it. Leaping back, he passed the ball to Dale. This time he sprang away from Simms’ grasping hands and put the ball through the hoop. Nothing but net. “All right!” Will yelled. Dale made another basket, and another. With two seconds left to go, the ball was in his hands again. From 30 feet out, he made a basket. The Eagles won, 67 to 58. Dale had scored 21 points—more than any other player. Inside the locker room, everyone crowded around Dale. “You beat 19
Simms!” Will shouted. “You beat him!” As players slapped Dale’s back, Rick yelled, “The ceiling! Take this man to the ceiling!” “Lie down!” Tyrone commanded. Glancing around nervously, Dale obeyed. Smiling, sweaty faces were all around him. Then, slowly, he was hoisted up by a dozen strong hands. Up, up . . . “Touch the ceiling!” Rick cried out. As Dale reached up and touched the ceiling, the players roared. “You did it!” Will yelled. “You’re the man!” hollered Tyrone. Dale had never been so happy in his life. He was on top of the world. Visitors started to crowd into the locker room. For a few moments, Dale was alone. Bode was back in Jackson, shopping for his new car. Then some of Dale’s teammates introduced him to their wives and girlfriends, brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers. 20
Then Will cut through the crowd. A strong-looking, white-haired woman was holding onto his arm. “Dale,” he said proudly, “I’d like you to meet my mom.” Dale shook her hand. It felt as tough as his shoes. Her eyes were bright and piercing. Dale had the feeling that she’d been through a lot. “Will tells me that you have a lot of promise,” she said. A lot of promise, Dale thought. I could make it. Or I could lose it all. On the plane back to Jackson, Will sat by Dale. “Mom wants you to come to the house and visit sometime.” “I’d like that,” Dale smiled. “She’s something, your mom.” “Thanks. You’re sure right about that,” Will agreed. “What happened to your mom, anyway?” Dale hesitated. He never talked about his mom’s death—not even to Bode. But now the words poured out of 21
him. “She was walking home after working the late shift. Some guy drove right into her on a crosswalk. He took off and they never caught him. I wish I’d caught him.” “It wouldn’t have brought her back,” Will said softly. Dale let that sink in. Then Will added, “Basketball helps somehow, doesn’t it?” Dale nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “For some reason it does.”
It
was two days before the game with the Houston Rockets. About 10:00 P.M., Bode drove up to Will’s house in his new car. It was a white Cadillac Escalade. Bode had added all the extras, including special rims and a state-of-the-art sound system. “Come on!” Bode urged his brother. “We gotta take this baby out!” Dale had been playing a video 22
game with Will. “I don’t know, Bode,” he said. “We’ve got a big practice early tomorrow morning.” “We’re not going to be out all night or nothing,” Bode insisted. “Just take a break and have a little fun.” “Wouldn’t be smart to make it a late night,” Will said. “I’m talking to my brother. Don’t you butt in, man!” Bode snapped. Embarrassed, Dale put his hand on Bode’s arm. “Bode, take it easy,” he said softly. “You’re his brother,” Will went on, “but you’re not looking out for him!” The veins in Bode’s neck popped out as he shouted, “Don’t ever say that, man! Nobody ever looked out for my brother like I did! Nobody!” “If he sticks with you, he’s gonna get kicked off the team!” Will warned. Bode was furious. His hand shot toward his pocket. Will stepped back. “Don’t you even 23
think about pulling your knife on me, or I’m calling the cops!” he shouted. Bode got right in Will’s face and sneered. “I got you scared, huh!” “Get out of my house, you loser!” Will said. “Now!” “What’d you call me?” Bode yelled. Dale gripped Bode’s arm. “Let it go!” he begged. “Come on!” Bode headed for the door. “You coming with me, then?” he asked. Dale got up. “Yeah,” he said. He didn’t look back at Will. In the car, Bode turned to Dale. “First thing tomorrow, I’m looking for a place for the two of us,” he said. “Okay. Sounds good,” said Dale.
Fifteen
minutes later, they were speeding up a long hill toward the Diamond Valley Golf Club. A kid about 15 sat in the back seat. The boy, Gibb, had lived next door to them 24
in the old neighborhood. Bode had picked him up when he saw him hitchhiking. Twice, Dale had glanced in the rearview mirror and seen Will’s car following them. He didn’t mention it. Piled in the trunk area were two golf bags, stuffed full of clubs. They looked brand new. Dale wondered if Bode was planning to play golf. It was dark outside—and neither of them knew how to play! But that wouldn’t matter to Bode. Bode was on his cell phone. He’d made about 10 calls since they’d left Will’s house. “The parking lot. At 10:30,” he’d told everyone. Several cars were already there when they pulled into the lot. Bode took a long drink from a bottle he’d had in his pocket. His eyes glittered. He held out the bottle to Dale, but Dale shook his head. Everyone gathered around to admire the new Escalade. 25
More cars and trucks pulled up. Thumping music and loud shouts filled the cold night air. Bode got up on the hood of a truck. “Let’s play some golf!” he shouted. “Ha! Golf’s for rich people!” yelled a woman in the crowd. “Yeah? Well, we’re rich!” Bode shouted. “We’re stinking rich!” He hopped down and sauntered to the back of the Escalade. He yanked open the door and threw the golf bags out of the car. The shiny clubs tumbled out onto the pavement. With whoops and yells, everyone ran to grab a club. Two women tugged at each end of the same putter. Bode held up a golf ball. “All right!” he yelled. “Go get it!” Then, with a mighty heave, he threw the ball far out on the fairway. The crowd started to run, yelling and swinging their clubs. Bode laughed as he got back in the 26
car. “Come on!” he cried out. Dale and Gibb quickly scrambled in after him. Dale was nervous. “Bode, I don’t know about this,” he said. Bode gunned the motor. “Relax, kid,” he said in a slurred voice. “Nobody’s gonna get hurt.” The Escalade roared across the golf course. When the crowd realized what Bode was doing, they turned around and ran toward their cars. Bode raced across the dark grass toward the ball. With one hand on the steering wheel, he leaned out the window and swung his club. The head of the club missed the ball by inches. Bode made a tight turn. A red pickup streaked across the grass, just to the left of the ball. Bode swerved in front of it. The truck came so close, Dale could see the driver’s frightened face. Again, Bode leaned out the window. This time, with a loud whack! the ball flew toward the trees at the far edge of 27
the grass, bouncing in the headlights. Again, Bode zoomed after the ball. Engines roared behind him. Suddenly, a man came running out from the trees, waving his arms. “It’s Will!” Dale said. “Stop, Bode!” The Escalade plowed to a stop, spraying soft dirt onto Will’s legs. “Get out of the way, or get under my wheels!” Bode shrieked. Will didn’t move. Dale got out and ran up to him. Bode got out, too, yelling, “You’re gonna get it now, man!” Then two things happened at once. Gibb scrambled into the Escalade’s driver’s seat and took off. And three police cars, with their sirens wailing, pulled into the parking lot. “Dale, come on!” Will cried out. He started jogging toward the trees. Bode stood still, watching as Gibb sped across the grass in the new Escalade. “Bode!” Dale grabbed his arm. 28
They ran. Will led them through the trees to where his car was parked on the other side of the golf course. Dale looked back as they drove away. The patrol cars’ searchlights revealed rows of ugly ruts where tire tracks crisscrossed the grass.
The
game with the Rockets was at the Jackson Dome. Dale drove, and Bode came with him. They pulled into the VIP section of the parking lot. Bode said, “Let’s go in to see if anyone famous is here yet.” “Nah, I don’t feel like it,” Dale said in an unusually serious voice. Bode looked at him in surprise. “That kid, Gibb . . .” Dale went on. “You told the cops he stole your car.” “I had to,” Bode said. “If they’d found out I was trespassing on that golf course—I’d be back in prison, just like that! And I’m not going back.” 29
“But now Gibb is locked up in juvenile detention,” Dale said. “Kid, I would have gone to a real prison,” Bode said angrily. “Juvenile detention’s nothing like that. Besides, that kid got himself in trouble. He didn’t have to take my car. He didn’t have to come with me, for that matter.” “I shouldn’t have come, either,” Dale said in a soft, sad, low voice. Bode was disgusted. “Oh, man! You know what you sound like?” he growled. “You sound just like that goody-goody mama’s boy Will.” Dale’s voice was a warning. “Will’s my friend,” he said. “Yeah? But he’s not family. He’s not blood,” Bode reminded him. “Look— whose side are you on?” “Mine,” said Dale. “That’s why I’m sticking with Will. I’ll see you around, Bode. But I’m through doing crazy stuff with you. No more, man.” Bode’s hand balled into a tight 30
fist and slammed down hard on the dashboard. “You’ll see me around?” he asked in astonishment. “Like you expect me to make an appointment with you or something? Is this what I get after looking out for you all those years? You get rich and famous and then you just push me out!” “You can’t stay out of trouble, Bode!” Dale cried out. “I’m not going to let you take me down with you!” Bode shoved Dale so hard his head banged against the window. Then, swearing, Bode opened the door and got out. “That’s it, man!” he said. “Just forget about me—’cause I’m out of your life for good. You’re nothing to me, man! Nothing!” And he walked away. Dale rubbed his head for a minute. Then he walked into the dome and went to find a quiet corner in the locker room. A few minutes later, he heard the 31
sound of a ball bouncing behind him. Will sat down next to him and handed Dale the ball. Pretending not to notice Dale’s tears, he said, “You ready to go out and win us a game?” Slowly, Dale smiled. “Yeah,” he said. Dale Curtis made 38 points that night. The Eagles won, 104 to 98.
Dale celebrated the holidays with Will’s family that year. A month later he started dating Sue, one of Will’s cousins. He also started taking some community college courses on the Internet. His game got better and better. At the end of the season, he was named Rookie of the Year. Several weeks after the game with the Rockets, Bode had been sent back to prison for selling drugs. Dale wrote to him, but Bode never answered.
32