Sweet Turnaround J by P. V. Beck

Author:P. V. Beck [Beck, P. V.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781934452271
Amazon: B003Z9K50S
Goodreads: 9086669
Publisher: Bedazzled Ink Publishing Company
Published: 2009-06-07T22:00:00+00:00

a

It was getting dark when the school bus pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward downtown. We crossed over the river and traveled along the river boulevard that paralleled the railroad tracks. A train nudged slowly along beside us, pulling a line of freight cars.

“Fifty-Four,” I said to Alejo, who was sitting next to me. Ever since I was little I had this habit of counting train cars.

The bus wound its way through downtown until the lit-up spire of Bishop O’Sullivan’s chapel came into view. We pulled into the driveway at a bronze statue of Bishop O’Sullivan himself and parked in front of the school’s new yellow brick gym. People were already streaming into the lobby.

“Just think,” Sadie said, climbing off the bus. “I might have gone here.”

“Why didn’t you?” Alejo asked.

“Money. Besides, I don’t think I would have liked it here. It reminds me of a mental hospital.”

“I want to go to a college like this some day,” Alejo said. “You know, a place with lots of grass and trees and old buildings with ivy growing on them.”

“Good luck,” Sadie said, running ahead to catch up with Katy.

A huge portrait of Bishop O’Sullivan leaning on his cane, made out of mosaic tiles, greeted us when we walked into the visitors’ locker room.

I asked Sadie, who had established herself as the Catholic authority, why Bishop O’Sullivan used a cane. She didn’t know.

“Maybe he sprained his ankle,” Mickey said ruefully.

“I want to know why they’re called the Knights,” Katy said.

“The Lady Knights,” Sadie said.

“The Crusaders and the Holy Grail and all that stuff,” I said, although, to tell you the truth, I didn’t have clue.

“I don’t get why they stick ‘Lady’ onto male names in the first place,” Mickey said. “Like, the Lady Bulls.”

“The Lady Roosters,” Alejo said.

“The Lady Stallions,” I said.

There was a knock on the door.

“Ready?” Coach called.

“No,” Sadie whispered.

Coach went over the same stuff she had talked about in practice. Then we circled up.

“Play hard. That’s your trademark,” Coach said. “Play together. With Mick out, the rest of you have to pull together. And have fun. There’s a big, partisan crowd out there. You’ll probably hear some trash talk. Just ignore it and play basketball. Who’s the best on three . . .”

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