Boot Camp (2 page)

“Are you keeping up your reading?” he asked.

“Of course,” I said. Both my parents and JYD had insisted that it was important for me to read every day even during the summer.

“Cool. And are you playing some ball?”

“Every day, although mainly on the driveway and a little at the community center.”

“So how's Kia doing?”

“Good, I guess. She's on holidays right now.”

“Holidays? When is she due back?”

“This weekend.”

“That's good, because what I wanted to talk to you and her about starts next Tuesday.”

“Are you coming to town?” I asked. It would be great if he could play some more ball with us.

“No, I'm not coming there, but I was wondering if you and Kia wanted to come down here…to Washington. I'm running my basketball boot camp next week, down in DC, and I have a couple of spots open. Do you think you might want to attend?”

“What did you say?” I asked in stunned disbelief.

“JYD Basketball Boot Camp. It starts on Tuesday and goes to Friday of next week. I'm offering you and Kia an invitation to attend. Do you think you might be interested in coming?”

I was stunned, shocked, amazed and unable to believe my ears all at once. This was incredible, this was just too much to even—

“Nick are you still there?” JYD asked.

“Yeah, I'm here.”

“So, do you think you might want to come?”

“Yes, of course I want to come!”

“And Kia?”

“I don't even have to ask,” I said. “I know she'd be in.”

“I should warn you, though, this isn't your typical sort of basketball camp.”

“It isn't?”

“Nope. This is a boot camp. Do you know what that means?”

“Um…we wear boots instead of basketball shoes?” I asked, and Jerome started laughing.

“You'll be wearing gym shoes. Basketball Boot Camp means it's going to be flat-out hard work, hard training, lots of discipline and learning to work in teams.”

“Sounds like fun,” I said.

“It will be fun…if you don't mind working really hard.”

“I never mind hard work,” I said, bravely, although I hoped that didn't mean too much running.

“I'm going to be tough.”

“Tough is my middle name,” I said.

“Great. Why don't you put your mother on the phone, and I'll talk to her about you coming… and Nick…”

“Yeah?”

“Always good to talk to a member of the Dog Pound.”

“I can't believe you're not more excited,” I said as I nudged Kia in the side.

“I can't believe you won't let me sleep.”

“How can you sleep?”

“Apparently I can't, although I could if you'd let me.”

“We're almost there…right, Mom?”

“I think so…not far…at least, I think it isn't much farther.”

We'd driven most of the way down to Washington yesterday—Monday—and stayed overnight at a motel. This morning we got up early and were driving the last two hours.

I looked at my watch. It was after eight thirty.

“Camp starts in less than thirty minutes.

Are we going to get there on time?” I asked.

“We're here right now,” my mother said.

Mom slowed the car down and we turned off the road and started up a driveway. There was a sign at the side of the drive—The Heights School. The drive curved upward, past lush lawns and shrubs and beautiful flower beds.

“This is a basketball camp?” Kia asked.

“This is where the JYD Basketball Boot Camp is being held. These are the grounds of a private school,” my mother answered.

“A pretty rich private school,” I added.

We reached the top of the hill, and there were seven or eight buildings spread out. The buildings were as fancy as the grounds.

“I assume we're looking for the gym,” my mother said. “The only question is, which building is the gym?”

We slowly circled the grounds. All of us craned our necks, looking for signs or hints as to which building might be the gym. Then we spotted a gardener down on one knee, doing some planting in one of the flower beds. My mother pulled the car up close and rolled down the window.

“Excuse me!” she called out sweetly.

He turned around and got to his feet.

“Could you tell me where the gym is?”

“Gym?” he asked in a heavy accent—it sounded like Spanish.

“Yes, the gymnasium,” my mother said.

If he didn't understand gym, I doubted he'd understand gymnasium.

“Basketball,” I said as I pulled a ball out of my bag and held it up.

“Yes, yes!
Baloncesto
…basketball.”

“Yes, yes, basketball! Where can we go to play basketball?” I asked. “Where is the gym?”

“Ah, ah,” he said, shaking his head. “
Gimnasio
… the gymnasium.” He pointed up the road. “
Un grande edificio
.”

“The big building,” my mother said, holding her hands apart.

“
Si, si!
” he said with a big smile. “Big…
grande
… big…
rojo
…red
edificio
.”

I could see a big red building at the top of the hill. It looked like it could be a gymnasium.

“
Gracias
,” my mother said.

The man's smile grew large. He said something else in Spanish and my mother slowly, hesitantly, answered back.

He broke into a bigger smile.

“What did you say?” I asked.

“I told him how beautiful his flowers are.”

The man reached down and took one of the flowers, breaking it off and offering it to my mother.

“
Muchos gracias
,” my mother said.

The man bowed gracefully from the waist.

“
Adios!
” my mother yelled out, and the man waved good-bye.

My mother waved, and we started up the driveway.

“I didn't know you could speak Spanish,” Kia said.

“Three years of high school,” my mother said. “A second language can only benefit you in life.”

“I know some Spanish,” I said.

“You do?” both Kia and my mother asked in unison.

“Sure. Taco, tortilla, fajita, enchilada…I know the basic food groups. If I only knew how to ask where the bathroom is I'd be all set.”

“
Servicious por favor
, is how you ask for the bathroom,” my mother said.

“Great. Now I'm good to go…in more ways than one.”

We drove up to the gym—or I guess the back of the gym. It was a big, brick building. It certainly looked large enough to be a gymnasium. The road circled around the side and—

“Look at the crowd!” Kia said.

There, standing in front of two sets of double doors, was a large group of people. There were some adults, but mostly kids, and, judging from the way they were dressed in T-shirts, shorts and basketball shoes, this was the right place.

Mom pulled the car into an open spot in the parking lot. Considering how many people were milling around the door there weren't that many cars in the parking lot—but there was a big yellow school bus parked in the corner.

Now that we'd finally arrived I felt nervous about being here. We were hundreds of miles from home and we didn't know anybody and maybe they were all better players than us and—

“You gonna stay in the car?” Kia asked.

She was standing beside the car with her gym bag slung over her shoulder.

“Of course not.” I grabbed my bag and climbed out, slamming the door behind me.

“There's nothing to worry about,” Kia said quietly.

“I'm not really that…” I stopped myself before Kia could. She knew me better than I knew myself, so there was no point in denying it.

“She's right,” my mother agreed. “You'll be fine.”

“It's a gym, some basketballs and a bunch of players. What's to be nervous about?” Kia asked.

I hated when the two of them double-teamed me.

“You're going to have a great time,” my mother said.

“I know. I just wish we knew somebody.”

“We do,” Kia said. “We know Jerome and Johnnie.”

I knew she was right. I knew they were both right. I also knew that nothing they had to say would change the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Look over there,” I said, pointing to the far end of the parking lot. Off in the corner sat a large, white truck…the type of vehicle JYD drove.

That was reassuring. “Jerome is already here,” I said

“There're lots of vehicles like that in the world,” Kia said, “although not many with fancy rims like that.”

Even from this distance we could see the fancy rims. He had special spinners that moved even when the wheels didn't.

“If it is Jerome's vehicle, why would he park it so far away when there are so many open spots that are closer?” Kia asked.

“Maybe he doesn't want anybody to bang it up,” I suggested.

“Or maybe it isn't Jerome's.”

We stopped at the edge of the crowd. There had to be a hundred kids milling around, talking and joking. The way they were all acting I had the feeling that everybody here knew everybody else—that is, everybody except us.

“Good morning!” a loud voice boomed out, and the whole crowd got quiet.

I looked up, hoping it was Jerome. It wasn't. There was a tall man, an older man, standing there, holding the door to the gym open with one hand.

“Welcome, everybody, to the fifth annual JYD Basketball Boot Camp!” he called out. “My name is Mr. Williams.”

Mr. Williams? Did that mean he was related to Jerome?

“I want all participants to go directly into the gym, put your things in the bleachers and assemble against the far wall,” he continued. “Parents who haven't registered their children can do that in the front lobby. Let's get down to work!”

He retreated back inside, and the crowd started to filter in through the doors. We were at the very back and were the last three people to enter the building.

“Do you want me to stick around?” my mother asked.

“I think I'd rather you didn't stay,” I said.

“Okay. I'll just register you both and then get going.”

“Thanks.”

Mom reached over to give me a hug, and I sidestepped away. I was too big and too old to be hugged by my mother, especially in front of a bunch of strangers at a basketball camp.

“Are you going to be okay today?” I asked my mother.

“What do you mean?”

“It's just that you don't know anybody here.
Are you going to be able to find something to do?”

She laughed. “This is Washington, DC, one of the greatest cities in the world. I can find dozens and dozens of things to do. There are museums, memorials, the White House…I could be here for a month and not run out of things to see.”

“That's good. I wouldn't want you to get bored.”

“No danger of that.”

“Okay…and thanks…you know, for bringing us down here.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Kia said.

“Just go and have fun,” my mother said.

“We will,” I said as we started to walk away.

“See you around three!” I yelled over my shoulder.

By the time we entered the gym most of the kids had already dumped their things in the bleachers and were starting to assemble at the far end against the wall.

“We better hurry,” Kia suggested and we picked up the pace.

We dropped our bags and trotted across the gym, passing by some kids who seemed to be
more interested in talking and joking around than rushing. We took up a place against the wall, at the far end by one of the corners.

“I wonder where Jerome is?” I asked.

“Don't know. I don't see Johnnie either.”

Johnnie was Jerome's big brother—well, his older brother because Jerome was half a head taller.

“I'm sure they'll all be here soon. Jerome did say they were going to be part of the camp too, right?” Kia asked.

“Yeah, he did. It'll be good to see somebody we know.”

“We'll soon know lots of people,” Kia said.

Kia was good at making small talk and getting to know people. I wasn't so good.

“Have you noticed something else?” I said to Kia quietly.

“What?”

“There's nobody here but boys,” I said, saying the last word barely above a whisper.

“There's no need to whisper,” Kia whispered back. “They probably already know that they're boys.”

“Funny.”

“Besides, not everybody is a boy.”

I looked around the gym. Everybody that I could see was a boy.

“There's me,” she said.

“I meant besides you.”

“Yeah…so?”

“So, I just noticed, that's all,” I said. It wasn't that it mattered to me who was there as much as I just felt sort of bad for Kia.