The Middle Moffat (21 page)

It's probably because I don't have my uniform on,
she thought.

Jane took advantage of the lull to braid her hair. She noticed now how you could tell the two teams apart. Mary Jetting and her team had red laces in their middies and the other girls had white ones. Knowing this should be of some help during the rest of the game.

Suddenly her team began chanting:

"A-tisket, a-tasket,
Who can throw a basket?
Peewee Moffat,
Peewee Moffat,
Rah!
Rah!
Rah!"

Each "Rah!" was accompanied by the players' right arms shooting straight up in the air.

"Good going, Peewee," said Mary, breaking up the group and patting Jane on the back. "But there's tough going ahead. Fourteen to six! Oh! We just can't lose the championship," she moaned. "I don't know where we'd be without you, though,"

Jane stuck her stomach out, wiggled her toes around inside of her sneakers, and kept her eyes lowered modestly.

"What's three baskets?" she said. She'd try to get a dozen or so for them in the next half. Save the championship.

The umpire blew her whistle. In a flash the shouting, bouncing, yelling, and stamping began again. Jane lingered on the side a moment and then she ran into the melee like a dancer who has received her cue. She darted in and out like an eel just as adroitly as before, but now she kept her eyes on the ball every second. She was going to take a more active part in this half. She wasn't going to wait until someone thrust the ball into her arms. She was going to get hold of it herself. This half there was going to be less weaving in and out like an eel and more throwing baskets, she hoped.

A girl came along bouncing the ball. Janey grabbed for it, bursting her other suspender strap as she did so. She got hold of the ball and she threw it wild. The ball hit the edge of the basket and balanced there a second.

"In, in..." urged Janey, making a shoving gesture with her arms as though that would help. She even blew hard. Maybe her breath would make the ball fall on the right side. Whether these things helped or not, it did fall through the basket. But the whistle blew and there was a lot of shouting.

"Foul! Foul!" everybody screamed.

Foul,
thought Jane. How terrible! What had she done? Would they put her off the floor? Instead of a hero on people's shoulders, a maker of fouls, sent home in disgrace!

Mary Jetting ran up to her. "Never mind, Peewee," she said. "Even the most famous players get the baskets mixed up sometimes. Just like football players sometimes try to make a touchdown at the wrong goal. We've changed baskets, you know."

Jane was comforted a little but when she saw another point tacked onto her opponent's score, she was very miserable. Fifteen to six now. She must retrieve her reputation.

The whistle blew again. In a flash the game was on, hot and furious. Bouncing, yelling, whistling, screaming all began as though there had never been a lull. Janey began weaving in and out like an eel, being as fast and wiry as possible in order to make up for that foul. She hadn't known it made any difference which basket you got the ball in. She thought any basket would do. It had just been a matter of luck she had thrown it into the right basket in the first place. Well! She was learning a lot.

The trouble was that weaving in and out like an eel was becoming monotonous. To lend variety to this sort of play, Jane tried a private game of "In and out the window." She wove in front of this girl, and behind that. But just baskets! That's what she really liked. Ping! Like a tiddledywink. In the ball went! Then the loud cheers. That was fun.

Jane was getting a little dizzy and she wished she could take time out and fasten her stockings. She bumped into Mary Jetting at this moment.

"Nice going, Peewee," said Mary. "But we've got to work fast now. Score's fifteen to fourteen and the game's nearly over."

Fifteen to fourteen! Who got all those other baskets? She must have been dreaming.

Jane wove away from Mary. Fifteen to fourteen! Goodness! Something should be done for Mary Jetting's side. Where was the ball now? She looked around the gymnasium. Oops! Someone was about to throw it into the enemy basket. Jane eeled over to her but was too late to prevent the girl from scoring a basket. Terrible! Now the score was seventeen to fourteen. Jane did not want to see her side lose. But the other team was flushed with victory and yelling, and in a mood like that they could ride the score up higher.

The stamping, yelling, bouncing, and the shrill screams became more excited than ever. The umpire blew her whistle almost constantly. It was really terribly confusing. The worst thing for Jane was the condition her clothes were in. They simply would not stay together. It was hard to keep them on at all, so many buttons and straps had broken. Never would she play basketball again until she had a real uniform. She was happy to see that the elastic band had broken in some of the others' bloomer legs, which flopped about their ankles like pajamas.

Whew! What a game!

Jane tried to concentrate her weaving under her own basket so she would be right there on the spot when the ball came this way and the time came to win the game for her side. Of course, a lot of the time the whole bunch of players were out in the middle of the floor or at the other end, and there wasn't anyone for her to dart in and out among. Then she would have to abandon her stronghold under the basket and at least appear to be part of the game. So she'd weave herself back and forth from players to basket and from basket to players, holding herself in readiness.

Suddenly Mary Jetting came bouncing the ball across the floor. She was followed by a stream of yelling, grabbing girls. Mary passed it to Jane. Jane caught it!

"I caught the ball," she yelled in astonishment. Oh, if only Rufus or Joey had seen that!

"Who can throw a basket?
Peewee Moffat,
Peewee Moffat!"

Everybody was chanting it. It was a challenge. Jane threw the ball. Up! Up! Ah, up! Right through the basket.

The cheering was tremendous. But Jane did not heed the cheers. Instead, she ran under the basket, caught the ball as it fell through, backed out onto the floor, and threw again! And it fell through again! Well! When the ball soared through the basket this second time, such a roar swelled through the gymnasium that several conductors and motormen rushed out of the carbarn with lunch cases in hand, and stuck their elbows into the windows and looked through the side door and cheered, too.

The umpire was in a quandary. This was the first game she had ever umpired, for the real umpire was ill. And she didn't know whether a double basket of this sort counted as two scores or not. She quickly got out her little book of rules, both boys' rules and girls' rules, for this team played a little of both. In these books there was no mention of double baskets, either for or against. It seemed to the umpire that a double basket should count as two. Popular opinion, too, was in favor of Janey and a double score, although there were a few dissenting cries from the enemy team. In the end, since it was so unusual a thing, the umpire decided to count it. This made the score eighteen to seventeen in favor of Janey's side. And at this instant the five o'clock whistle blew. The game was over! Eighteen to seventeen! Janey's side had won! Her team chanted:

"A-tisket, a-tasket,
Who can throw a basket?
Peewee Moffat,
Peewee Moffat,
Rah!
Rah!
Rah!"

Then they all grabbed Jane and they carried her around the room on their shoulders, cheering and yelling. Jane was very embarrassed. It was better to dream of these things. Besides, her clothes were all coming off. Finally they stopped and let her down.

"Would you like to play regular next year?" asked Mary, for this was the last game of the season.

Jane shook her head. "No, thanks," she said. Next year was a long time away and she couldn't promise something so far ahead. Anyway, she had to think it over, whether or not she liked this game. She was very tired. Right now she was inclined to think that she would rather listen to the game from outside while she was sitting on the Green than actually to be in here playing. Of course, all these baskets! They had been fun. But Jane was obliged to admit to herself that they must have been a matter of luck. She looked herself over. What a mess she was in! And, goodness, her guimpe was on inside out! Well, that might explain the luck. Nancy Stokes told her if you put on your clothes inside out by accident, it had to be by accident, you would have good luck.

Mary Jetting was still standing nearby. "You could be the captain," she said generously, because she was the captain herself.

"No, thanks," said Jane again. And then, because she did not wish to seem unappreciative, she added, "But I'll ask Mama. It is a lot of fun, especially getting the ball in the basket. Like tiddledywinks."

"Well, thank you, Peewee. Think it over. You saved our lives today," said Mary heartily And she gave Jane a friendly slap on the back again. "So long," she waved.

Jane limped out of the parish house. Someone had stepped on her foot real hard and it hurt. Her face was streaked with dirt and her stockings and clothes Were all awry. She pulled up her stockings the best she could and tried to straighten herself out in general, for she saw the minister talking with the sexton near the tulip bed. Then she gave him a friendly nod. Now she could look the minister in the eye. For now she had made use of the splendid new gymnasium, even though, so far, none of the other Moffats had.