Break for the Basket (6 page)

Robin, Glenn, and Rusty kidded in the locker room about the dinner they were going to have at Mr. G.’s apartment.

“He’s a funny-looking character,” said Robin. “He reminds me of a redheaded woodpecker.”

Glenn laughed. “Imagine him a painter, and knowing about basketball, too!”

Emmett didn’t like their talking about Mr. G. that way. But he didn’t dare to say anything to them.

Mr. G. was having trouble with his gas stove when the boys arrived at his apartment.

“Make yourselves at home,” he said. “Dinner will be ready as soon as I get this stove perking correctly.”

The boys walked leisurely around the large living room, admiring Mr. G.’s cactus plants and two paintings he had on the wall.
Evidently Mr. G. had not destroyed every one of his paintings after all, thought Emmett with silent thanksgiving. Finally
the boys became restless and impatient.

Robin Hood had brought the team’s basketball with him. Glenn opened his arms invitingly, and Robin threw the ball to him.
Glenn passed to Mickey. Emmett didn’t think it was right that they should be throwing the basketball around in the room, but
he soon joined in the game, too. Presently they were all laughing and throwing the ball harder at each other. Emmett caught
it from Mickey, hurled it to Wayne.

Wayne was standing in front of a painting. He missed Emmett’s fast peg. The ball struck the painting, knocking it to the floor.
Emmett stared at it, his heart crushed. The painting was of a girl in her teens. It was torn in a couple of places where the
ball had struck it.

M
R
. G.
TURNED
from the stove and came into the room. He looked at the painting silently. The boys stood motionless, an ache in their eyes
as they watched the expression on his face change from surprise to hurt.

He picked up the picture. His eyes blinked quickly a few times. Then he cracked a smile. Emmett could see that the smile didn’t
come from Mr. G.’s heart.

“It was my fault, Mr. G.,” Emmett confessed. “I threw the ball.”

“We were all throwing,” said Mickey. “It wasn’t just his fault, Mr. G.”

“I’m not asking whose fault it was,” replied Mr. G. “What’s been done, has been done. Let’s put away the ball and sit at the
table. I’ve repaired the stove, and dinner should be ready in a little while.”

When dinner was ready to serve, Mr. G. asked for help. Every one of the boys leaped at the call. Mr. G. said he needed only
two, so he selected Emmett and Robin Hood. The dinner was composed of hamburg patties and buns, sweet pickles, Harvard beets,
and milk. Afterwards there was ice cream. And then the boys helped Mr. G. do the dishes.

Then, for two hours, Mr. G. showed them games and played with them. They played and had so much fun that the time went by
swiftly. But in those two hours Emmett had realized something more than fun with games. He had gotten to know his teammates
better, to understand them, to like them, and — most of all — not to be afraid of them.

The boys put on their coats and hats, thanked Mr. G. for the dinner and for the wonderful time they had had, and departed.
Emmett was the last to leave. He paused with his hand on the doorknob.

“I’m sorry again about that picture, Mr. G.,” he said. “Can I pay for it, or something?”

Mr. G. smiled. “Don’t let it bother you, Emmett,” he said. “It wasn’t good, anyway.”

“I thought it was very nice,” said Emmett. “Was it somebody you knew, Mr. G.?”

Mr. G. smiled and shrugged. “Hardly, Emmett. But don’t worry about it. What I want to know is, did you have fun?”

“Yes, I did.”

“How do you feel toward the boys, now? Are they still strangers to you?”

“No, sir, they aren’t. Rusty is a lot of fun, and so is Robin Hood. I guess it means a lot once you know somebody; doesn’t
it, Mr. G.?”

“It certainly does,” said Mr. G. “Good-bye, Emmett. I’ll see you again.”

Emmett went home. He told his Mom and Dad about the dinner and all the fun he and the boys had
had at Mr. G.’s basement apartment. Then he told about the painting he had struck with the basketball.

His parents were sorry about the painting, but felt there was really nothing that could be done about it.

“Cooking a dinner for the basketball team! I give Mr. G. a lot of credit for that,” exclaimed Mr. Torrance.

Mrs. Torrance laughed and said, “I do too! I guess he got pretty well acquainted with you boys.”

“That was exactly his reason for doing it, Mom,” said Emmett. “Some of us didn’t know each other well. And none of the team,
except me, knew Mr. G.”

He didn’t want to say that he was the only boy on the team who didn’t know the others well. Could this be the real reason
why Mr. G. had put on the dinner? Emmett felt sure that it was. Mr. G. understood him pretty well, no doubt about that. Maybe
when Mr. G. was a boy he had been shy and scared about many things, too. Emmett wondered if he would grow up and still be
as shy as he was now. The thought frightened him. It wasn’t fun to be shy.

Mickey and Robin Hood came over at four o’clock. They invited Emmett to go to a movie with them. Emmett asked his mother,
and she said he could.

After the movie the boys stopped at the Sunset Spa for a sundae. A girl with blue eyes and blonde hair was behind the counter.
As she started to fill the boys’ orders, Emmett looked at her curiously.

The girl looked very familiar. Yet Emmett was sure he had not seen her before. And then he remembered. She was the girl in
Mr. G.’s painting.

E
MMETT WAS
so excited he spoke before he thought. “Do you know Mr. G.?”

The girl looked at him as she placed the sundaes in front of the boys. Her blue eyes twinkled.

“Mr. G.?” she echoed. “Who’s Mr. G.?”

“His real name is Mr. Garfield,” explained Emmett. “Mr. G. G. Garfield.”

She thought a moment, then shook her head. “No, I don’t. Am I supposed to?”

Emmett stared. He fumbled for an answer. “I don’t know. He had a picture of you.”

Then he blushed. If she didn’t know Mr. G., he had spoken too much already!

“Not a picture,” said Robin Hood. “A painting.”

“A painting?” The blue eyes widened. “A painting of me?”

Emmett nodded. “At least, it looked like you.”

“What do you mean, it
looked
like me?” asked the girl curiously. “Doesn’t he have the painting any more? I’d be thrilled to see it.”

Emmett was becoming more uncomfortable every
minute. Why had he said anything about that painting?

“No. No, he doesn’t,” said Emmett quickly, hoping that would solve the problem. “It got torn, and Mr. G. had to throw it away.”

“Oh, isn’t that terrible!” said the girl disappointedly.

Her eyes flicked past Emmett’s shoulder as the door of the ice cream bar opened on squeaking hinges. Emmett, Robin Hood, and
Mickey turned their heads at the same time. Coming through the door was a small man with hair red as fire and thick as straw.

“Mr. G.!” exclaimed Emmett. No sooner had the words left his lips than he realized he had spoken too soon again. His face
colored and he sunk so low on his stool he almost slid off.

He pitched his spoon into the ice cream, wanting to eat it all up quickly so that he could get out of there in a hurry. There
were several mouthfuls left, and he couldn’t leave until every bit of it was gone.

“Well, if it isn’t my friends Mickey, Robin Hood, and Emmett,” greeted Mr. G. “Getting your vitamins?”

Emmett’s grin was weak. “I guess so,” he said. He gulped down another spoonful of ice cream.

“Are you Mr. G., the painter?” asked the girl, staring wide-eyed at the little man.

“Yes, I am,” replied Mr. G., as he perched himself upon a stool. “A strawberry sundae, please.”

The girl picked up a stemmed glass. “The boys told me you had a painting of a girl,” she said. “A girl who looked like me.”

Mr. G.’s face colored. He looked at the boys. “I guess that’s quite true, now that I see you. The girl in the painting did
look very much like you. A very strange coincidence — isn’t it?”

“Why, yes, it is. You don’t have the painting any more?”

“No. It was torn accidentally, so I destroyed it.”

“Isn’t that a shame,” said the girl.

Emmett slid off the stool. “You fellas done?”

Mickey and Robin Hood got off their stools, too. “We’ll see you again, Mr. G.,” said Emmett.

Outside of the Sunset Spa Emmett ran his forefinger across his brow. “Boy! I bet that Mr. G. will be mad at me now!”

“I know. that girl,” said Robin Hood. “She’s Mary Lee. Her brother goes to Cornell. He’s on the basketball team.”

Emmett’s eyes popped wide. “You mean Tony Lee?”

“Yes. He plays football, basketball, and baseball. Hey, that sister of his — she’s pretty!”

On Tuesday night the Penguins played the Jet Wings in a non-league game. Neither Ed Long nor Mr. G. were present to coach
the boys, so Robin Hood, as captain, took over the chore. He had Johnny Clark start, and put Emmett in Johnny’s place two
minutes before the first quarter ended. Emmett remembered Mr. G.’s words of advice.
Tight as a string … Let yourself go … Don’t worry about your teammates. They’re not going to eat you
.

He went into the game without thinking about faults, without worrying about anything. He caught passes, dribbled, and pivoted
with ease. And then he became bolder. He began driving and laying them up the way he did on his own court at home. He sank
them, too, and Mickey, Robin Hood and the others yelled mightily at him.

Robin kept him in the full second quarter, and the full third. Emmett dumped in five baskets and scored one foul shot out
of two tries. He sat out the fourth quarter, until there were two minutes to go. Robin had him go in again, this time in Glenn
Long’s place.

He stole the ball from a Jet Wings’ man and dribbled all the way down the length of the court. He leaped. Swish! Another layup!

“Man! You’re driving!” exclaimed Robin Hood as the Penguins proudly slapped Emmett on the shoulders after the win. “You
^’
re a different player! You were really hot tonight! I hope you’ll be like this Saturday!”

“I don’t know,” said Emmett, hardly believing that it was himself in the game tonight. “But I’ll try.”

T
HE
P
ENGUINS TRAILED
the Eskimos by six points at the half that Saturday. Ed Long hadn’t given Emmett much of a chance to play. At Robin Hood’s
suggestion Ed started Emmett in the second half. Almost immediately Emmett became the spark plug of the team, catching passes,
rebounding, driving.

The margin narrowed. Soon the Penguins led, 21 to 20.

Eskimos’ ball. They bounced it out from under the Penguins’ basket, moved it cautiously across the center line, then passed.
Swift as lightning, Robin Hood intercepted the throw, dribbled, then passed to Emmett. Emmett moved the ball downcourt and
passed to Mickey. Mickey tossed to Rusty. Rusty stopped quickly, setting himself for a shot. Two men blocked him. He bounce-passed
to Emmett. Emmett dribbled up, leaped, and dumped in an overhand shot for two points.

Penguins — 23, Eskimos — 20.

Emmett ran back hard to find his man and cover him. His mind screamed at him,
Forget the people
.
Forget mistakes. Forget fouls. Robin Hood won’t get sore. Nor will Mickey, nor Glenn, nor Rusty, nor the guys on the bench
.