Hoop Crazy (4 page)

“Nice shot,” I said.

Mark nodded, but didn't answer.

“Let's do it again,” I said.

Everybody got back into position.

When Jordan left to go away on vacation he took with him three weeks worth of plans and plays. Because he was so strong down low in the post we'd built most of our plays around him. Now, without somebody big, we had to rely more on Mark and his
outside shooting. That was what we'd been working on for the past two days.

I passed the ball out to Mark as he came off the screen Kia had set. He put the ball up and it dropped in. Thank goodness Mark was so reliable.

“Let's take a break,” Kia said.

“A short break,” I offered.

The three of us plopped down on the grass in the shade at the edge of the driveway.

“We've worked hard today,” Kia said.

“And we have to keep on working hard for the next five days.”

“When are Ned and his mother supposed to arrive?” Kia asked.

“Today some time.”

“You really aren't looking forward to this, are you?” she asked.

“Not particularly. You don't know this guy. He's always bragging about how much stuff he knows, and he uses really big words — I think he does that just to show how smart he thinks he is — and all he wants to talk about are stupid things.”

“I don't even know the guy and I already don't like him,” Kia said.

“Maybe he's changed,” Mark said.

“Mark's right,” she agreed. “You haven't seen him for years. Maybe he's got new interests. Maybe he's
even fun to be around.”

“I doubt that very much.”

“You never can tell. People change … right, Mark?”

Mark nodded his head.

“But sometimes they stay the same,” I said. “Right, Mark?”

Mark shrugged his shoulders. “Sometimes.”

I was about to say something else when my attention was caught by the sight of a big, dirty, four-wheel drive vehicle, slowly moving down the otherwise deserted street. It pulled over to the curb and came to a stop right in front of my house.

“Is that them?” Kia asked.

“I don't know, but it looks like what a forest ranger would drive,” I said.

The door opened and a woman climbed out. I hadn't seen her for years, but I recognized her — maybe more from the pictures we'd been looking at than from my memory. It was my mother's cousin Debbie. She had flaming red hair that hung down her back. It was so bright I wondered if it would glow in the dark.

“Hello!” she called, waving a hand over her head.

I waved back. “Kia, could you go and let my mother know they're here.”

“I'll go,” Mark offered.

“Thanks.”

As Mark went off to get my mother, Kia and I headed to the car.

“Hello, Nicholas!” she said as she reached out, grabbed me and gave me a hug, practically pulling me off my feet.

“Hi,” I managed to answer back.

“You're so big! You've grown so much!” she beamed as she released me.

“A little bit,” I mumbled. “Um, this is my friend Kia.”

“Pleased to meet you, Kia,” she said.

“Me too. So where's your son?” Kia asked.

“Oh,” she said. “He's right here.”

She turned around and opened up the back door. There was Ned. He was holding a book in his hand, thick glasses on his face, frizzy red hair sticking up in the air in twenty different directions. He did look tall.

“Come on out, Ned,” she said.

He put down the book, looked at us like he not only didn't know who we were, but where he was. And then he started to climb out of the truck. He kept coming and coming and coming until he stood there towering over me! I looked up in total shock. He was like a giant.

“Ned's grown a little too,” his mother said.

“A little?” Kia gasped. “He's … he's … he's —”

“Tall for his age,” his mother said, cutting her off.

“He's tall for any age,” Kia answered. “How tall are you?”

“I'm five foot eight inches tall,” Ned said.

“And you're only going into grade four?” Kia questioned.

“No, I'm going into grade six.”

“But I thought you and Nick were born on the same day?” Kia asked.

“We were. I'm
supposed
to be going into grade four, but I'm so smart I'm going into grade six.”

His tone of voice was a combination of bragging and whining, which together had the same quality as fingernails running down a blackboard.

“I don't feel so well,” Ned said.

“I told you not to read in the car so much. It always affects your stomach,” his mother replied.

“I feel like I'm going to … going to …”

Kia and I jumped backwards as Ned vomited all over the driveway.

“That was close!” Kia exclaimed.

“Too close. Look at your shoes,” I said in disgust.

Both of our basketball shoes had gotten sprayed!

“That's disgusting … just disgusting,” Kia gagged.

“That certainly was special,” I said as I finished hosing down the driveway. I'd already done our shoes
and they were sitting in a sunny spot on the porch, drying off.

“You'll never forget Ned's arrival. That's for sure,” Kia giggled.

“I'm glad you think it was funny.”

“Not really, but it
could
have been funny,” she said.

“How?”

“If he'd only got your shoes,” she chuckled. “It reminded me of one of those disaster movies. It was like a volcano erupting.”

“I guess that's a matter of opinion. That was typical Nerd behavior.”

“You mean he's vomited on you before?” Kia asked.

“No, but he's always doing something like that. Getting sick, or having an allergic reaction, or getting bitten by bugs, or tripping and hurting himself.”

“I couldn't believe it. I'm just glad it was only our shoes.”

“It was close,” I said.

“He must feel embarrassed.”

“I don't care what he feels,” I said.

“Do you think he'll be up to practicing today?” Kia asked.

“Practicing … like in basketball?”

She nodded her head. “I was thinking that maybe we could run a few plays with him. He's even taller
than Jordan.”

“So is my house, and some of these trees, but they can't run plays either,” I said. “No matter how tall he is, he's still Nerd.”

“What harm would it do to just try a few plays with him?”

“It wouldn't do any harm, it just wouldn't do any good,” I argued. “Besides, I have to go in and entertain our guests and have dinner. Do you want to stay?”

“Not me. My family is going out for dinner.”

“Too bad. Are you sure you can't stay?”

“Family obligation. Besides, I wouldn't want to interfere … you know … come between you and your old best friend.”

“Come on, Kia, you know he's not my best friend.”

She smiled. “I know that,” she said. “And you know that. But from what your mother said, I don't think Ned knows that. See you later.”

“Could you pass the potatoes, please,” Debbie asked and the serving bowl was passed down the table to her.

“Are these organically grown?” she asked as she hesitated, spoon in hand, before putting any of them on her plate.

“I really don't know,” my mother said apologetically. “Probably not.”

“I guess I can still have some,” Debbie said. “Although Ned you should be careful. We don't want your allergies acting up.”

“He's allergic to potatoes?” I asked in amazement.

“Not to potatoes, but to the things that they put on potatoes,” she said.

“You mean like butter and sour cream?”

Everybody at the table started to laugh.

“I think she means the chemicals or pesticides,” my mother said.

“I'm afraid that doesn't leave much that you can eat,” my father said.

“I'm so sorry,” my mother apologized again. “I just didn't know that your family had all become vegetarians.”

“We're just trying to eat well,” Debbie said.

“Same with me,” added my father.

He not only had his steak, but he'd had Mom cook up the one that Debbie hadn't wanted. He looked quite pleased with himself as he continued to cut up one of his steaks. I guess I couldn't say much myself — I had the steak that would have been Ned's.

“So Ned, you're going to be playing with Nick and his friends in the tournament,” my father said.

“I guess so.”

“Do you play much basketball?”

“Not really.”

“Do you have a hoop on your driveway?” my father asked.

“No,” Ned said.

“We don't really have a driveway, ” Debbie said.

“It's more like a rutted place where we park the Rover.”

“So that just leaves playing at school,” my father said.

“Ned doesn't go to school,” I said.

“He's homeschooled,” his mother added.

“That's right, I remember hearing something about that,” my father said between chews. “So where do you play basketball?”

“I guess I don't.”

There was a pause as everybody digested that fact.

“Ever?” my father asked, breaking the silence.

“A couple of times when we were in town shop-ping. There's a basket up in the playground.”

“That's good,” my father said. “Don't worry, it's a simple game. Right, Nick?”

“Sure.”

“And as long as you're prepared to work hard over the next few days you'll learn a lot. Are you going to practice every day this week, Nick?”

“Of course.”

“Every day?” Ned asked.

“Sure … why, did you have something else planned?” I asked.

“I was hoping to get down to the Museum of Natural History or maybe the planetarium,” Ned said.

This guy was truly unbelievable. Unfortunately it was too late and Jordan and his family had already left for Europe or maybe I could have worked out a deal — Ned could go with Jordan's family to see the museums of Europe and Jordan could stay here and play ball. That way everybody would have been happy.

I opened my mouth to say something when I caught sight of the look my mother was throwing me. I closed my mouth.

“There'll be time for everything, I'm sure,” my mother said. “The museum is open until nine o'clock tonight. Maybe we could all go. Wouldn't that be fun?”

“That would be wonderful!” Debbie exclaimed.

“I'd like that a lot,” Ned said.

“I'm afraid I'll have to pass,” my father said. “I've got some work to do that I just have to finish off before tomorrow.”

“That's too bad,” my mother said.

The tone of her voice left little doubt that she didn't believe my father any more than I did. He just didn't want to go. Neither did I.

“Then there'll just be the
four
of us,” she continued, fixing me with her gaze.

It didn't take much mathematics to know what that meant — the two of them, my mother and me.

“Won't that be fun, Nick?” my mother said, although I knew she wasn't so much asking me as telling me.

“Sure,” I said, nodding my head. It would probably be just about the most ‘fun' thing I'd do with Nerd.