NO-NAME by Tim Tingle

Author:Tim Tingle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Book Publishing Company
Published: 2014-09-25T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Clean, Hard Play

Of course I was lying about knowing how to use a cell phone. After Faye left, I pushed a button and the phone came to life. I pushed the same button again and everything went dark.

“Hoke,” I said to myself. “My first cell phone. Cool. An Indian with a cell phone. And I already know how to turn it on and off.” I put the phone in my shirt pocket and fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up and the size of my problem slapped me in the face. I was on the high school basketball team, a really big deal. So was Johnny. I couldn’t live in my underground room and go to school. And if I didn’t go to school, I couldn’t play basketball.

Hoke, now I’m beginning to understand, I thought. Mr. Robison’s no idiot. He thought of this all along. Oh well, school’s still two months away. Something’s bound to change.

I looked through the pipe at the house. No sign of Dad. I lifted the door and crawled behind the tree. I leaned against it for a few minutes, listening. Still no Dad.

I scrambled over the fence and ran to the park, forgetting all about my ankle. I knew he would be there, getting ready for his first season on a real basketball team. Johnny waved a little wave at me, then turned and shot a free throw.

We were both so cool about this whole high school basketball thing. For two minutes. He made a free throw and tossed me the ball. I hit a three-pointer from the corner. Johnny gripped the ball with one hand and dribbled a few times.

Then he dropped the ball and looked at me. He ran to the basket, leaped up, grabbed the rim with both hands, and shouted, “We’re on the team! Uniforms! Cheerleaders! Out-of-town games on the school bus! Practice every day after school! At the high school gym!”

I dribbled the ball and shot a long one. Johnny was still hanging on the rim.

“Not in my house, you don’t!” he hollered, swatting the ball across the court and all the way to the kids’ merry-go-round.

I jumped up and pounded the air with my fists. “Yeah!” I shouted. “We gonna win some ball games. Me and you, Cherokee Johnny, we gonna win us some ball games!”

We didn’t see them, not at first. We didn’t see the four Nahullo boys, wearing school jerseys, pick up the ball and amble our way. They were seniors and they’d played on the school basketball team since seventh grade.

“What team you think you gonna play on?” the tallest one asked. “We already got our team. You couldn’t even warm the bench, not on our team.”

Johnny and I just looked at each other.

“Wanna play some half-court?” Tallboy asked.

“Be hoke,” Johnny said.

“Cool,” said Tallboy. “Let’s see. We got six players. So who wants to play with the redskins?”

The others shook their heads and laughed. “No way. I ain’t playing with those losers,” said one.

“Then I guess it’s two on two,” said Tallboy.

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