Crossover by Jeff Rud

Author:Jeff Rud
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: JUV000000
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2008-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

chapter nine

Dad usually tried to let Mom sleep in on Saturday mornings. He and I had got into the habit of quietly eating breakfast together and then heading out of the house without disturbing her.

As usual, we didn’t say much to each other as we munched our toast, and Dad finished his coffee. He was on his way to his pickup-hoops game. Dad played a couple of times a week with the same bunch of forty-something guys. They had all played a little in high school and still acted as though they were aiming for the NBA. Most of them could barely get up and down the court twice in a row. I had spent many Saturday mornings in the gym watching Dad and his buddies. Once I was big enough to avoid being steamrolled, I joined in their games. But I had stopped playing with Dad and his friends as basketball at school got more and more serious. I couldn’t afford to get injured now. And besides, I was getting too fast for the old guys.

“Let’s go, Kyle,” Dad said as he grabbed his gym bag and water bottle.

It was now routine for Dad to drop me off at Sainsbury before he went to his pickup game. It only took a few minutes to reach the high school. “How was Coach last night?” Dad asked, already knowing the answer.

“He wasn’t happy,” I replied.

“Well, he couldn’t have been too upset with how you played,” Dad said. “I thought you guarded Eric really well. And Stillman should have got you the ball on that last play.”

I had to agree with Dad. He and I nearly always saw the game the same way— probably because he was my father. But I didn’t tell him that Coach had actually been mad at me—not Stillman—after the game. No sense getting Dad worked up about anything. Saturday was his time to relax.

“Thanks for the ride,” I said, hopping out in the Sainsbury parking lot.

“Have a good practice,” Dad said before pulling away. He was always in a good mood on Saturday mornings. It was the one day he didn’t have to worry about chasing down stories for the Bulletin. He could just play basketball. Sometimes I thought he loved basketball even more than I did.

As I walked toward the gym, I saw Ms. Lawson getting out of her silver Honda Civic. She was carrying a box full of costume accessories and small props, and she seemed in danger of dumping them all over the parking lot. I grabbed her car door and helped steady the load.

“Thank you, Kyle.” She smiled. “It’s nice to see you here so early this morning.”

I nodded. I didn’t know how to tell Ms. Lawson that I wasn’t there for rehearsal. I didn’t say anything as I walked with her into the theater, lugging the large box of hats, scarves, gloves and other bits and pieces.

Ms. Lawson went straight into the prop room behind the stage. “Kyle, have you seen these?” she called out.

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