Boot Camp (4 page)

Suddenly Kia's laugh stuck in her throat. I knew this wasn't going to end there.

“Look who's talking!” Kia said. “You better play ball smoother than you dance or this is going to be one embarrassing week for you.”

“I'm gonna school you and everybody else in this whole—”

His words were cut off by a wave of cheering and screaming. Up at the front one of the guys
was on the floor, spinning and doing all sorts of break dance moves. People were going crazy cheering him on.

“And we have a winner!” Jerome yelled, and the cheering got even louder.

He reached down, offered his hand to the kid, and as they shook he pulled him to his feet, grabbed him and tossed him into the air, catching him on the way down.

The music got quieter and quieter, and then it stopped completely.

“And can you show the audience what the lucky winner gets?” JYD said, sounding like a game show host.

JY the mascot bounced forward, carrying a duffle bag over his shoulder. He set the bag down and loosened the string that holds it closed. He reached in and pulled out a T-shirt. He held it up. There, in big letters it said “JYD Basketball Boot Camp” with an outline of Jerome, arms raised, forming the letter Y.

The kid pulled off his T-shirt and put the new one on. He raised his hands in the air to imitate the front of the T-shirt.

“Wow, that is so cool,” Kia said. “I should have danced better.”

“Dancing?” the mouthy kid asked. “Is that what you were doing?”

“Did you think I was talking to you?” Kia asked. “If I wanted your opinion, I'd…I'd…come to think of it, there's no way I would ever want your opinion.”

The kid's mouth opened, but he didn't say anything. I think Kia had caught him by surprise. She had a way of doing that.

I looked at the kid. He was around our age but bigger than both of us. He had a short, short brush cut and studs in both ears.

“Hold on!” Johnnie said. “It looks like JY has a few more T-shirts in his bag!” He pulled out a handful of shirts.

“And I found another bag over here!” Sergeant Kevin called out as he dragged another duffle bag—a big duffle bag—across the floor.

“In that case,” JYD called out, “I think we have shirts for everybody!”

A big cheer erupted.

JY, along with Johnnie, went down the line handing out T-shirts. Each person stripped out of his shirt and replaced it with the new JYD camp shirt.

“I hope they don't run out,” the kid said.

“I think they can count,” Kia said. “The number of kids at the camp matches the number of T-shirts required. Not difficult…at least for most of us.”

I expected him to react to Kia's comment, but he didn't.

Johnnie and JY continued down the line, handing out shirts.

“Here you go, my man, special order, just for you,” Johnnie said to the kid.

He took it from Johnnie, practically ripping it out of his hands.

“Nick and Kia, great to see you two again,” Johnnie said. He shook hands with both of us.

JY started jumping all around, being funny, and then he gave both of us a big hug.

I looked past Kia to the kid. He looked surprised, no, shocked, at how they had greeted us. He didn't think we actually knew them.

Johnnie handed us both a T-shirt.

“You can use the change room if you like,” Johnnie said to Kia.

“That's okay.” She pulled the camp shirt on over top of her other shirt and then, from underneath the shirt there was movement. I knew what she was doing because I'd seen her do it
before. Suddenly she pulled her old shirt out of one of the armholes of the camp shirt.

“That's like a magic trick,” Sergeant Kevin joked.

“Everybody, put your old shirts and jerseys away!” JYD called out. “And then get back to the line.”

“And do that in double time!” Sergeant Push-up yelled.

“Excuse us,” I said.

Kia and I hurried off to deposit our old T-shirts in our bags. We were the farthest from the bleachers, and we knew not to walk and not to be last back in line. We sprinted across the floor. I looked back. Our good
friend
, the kid with the smart mouth, was sauntering across the gym.

I stuffed the shirt in my gym bag and we raced back. Despite how fast we moved, there were already a whole lot of kids back on the line. Obviously we weren't the only people who understood how things were going to be done around here.

“Five!” Jerome yelled out.

“Four!” Sergeant Kevin yelled.

They were counting down. A bunch of kids who weren't on the line picked up their pace.

“Three!” Sergeant Josh called out.

I had a pretty good idea what was going to happen if anybody wasn't on the line.

“Come on, hurry up!” Kia screamed.

“Two!” Johnnie called.

“One!” Sergeant Push-up yelled.

“And zero!” JYD said.

There were still five or six kids who weren't in line—including our mouthy
buddy
.

“Everybody, drop to the ground!” Sergeant Push-up bellowed.

I dropped to the ground, along with everybody else in the gym, including the coaches.

The stragglers ran back to the line. The mouthy kid ran right across the whole gym, past all the coaches and took up a spot right beside me. Why hadn't he just gotten into the line at the other side? It wasn't as if he liked us or we liked him.

Sergeant Push-up counted out the push-ups. People groaned and muttered but did what they were told.

I finished quickly. “That wasn't so bad,” I said.

“Some people are such suck-ups,” the mouthy kid said.

“Who you calling names?” Kia demanded.

“I wasn't talking to you,” he said.

“Were you talking to your imaginary friend?” Kia asked. “Cause I figure that's probably the only type of friends you have.”

“I got more friends than I can even count!” he snapped.

“Big deal,” Kia said. “You probably have to take off your shoes and socks if you have to count past ten!”

A couple of kids heard Kia's comment and started laughing. The kid looked so angry that I thought his face was going to bust open.

“Everybody stop!” It was JYD. “I hear talking at the end of the line,” he said, gesturing in our direction but not looking our way. “Everybody down for another five push-ups!”

There was groaning and complaining.

“Make that
ten
push-ups!” Sergeant Push-up called out. “And if there's any more complaining it's going to be
fifteen
more!”

Kia and the kid exchanged dirty looks, both feeling like the other was to blame, but neither said another word. We all dropped to the ground, and the push-ups were counted off.

Sergeant Kevin blew his whistle, and everybody froze in place. We'd been running dribbling drills for the past forty minutes with no stops.

“Let's take five minutes for a water break!”

“Good,” I gasped. “I need some water. I think I've lost a couple of bottles worth of sweat.”

“Now that sounds attractive,” Kia said.

“You're sweating just as much as I am,” I said, pointing at her sweat-soaked T-shirt.

“That's where you're wrong. I don't sweat, I
glow
.”

“In that case you're glowing so bright we could turn off the overhead lights.”

We joined in a lineup to get bottles of water. We shuffled forward. JY and Johnnie were passing them out.

“Working hard?” Johnnie asked Kia.

“Hard enough to work up a good sweat,” I said, “or a good glow.”

“Kia, Nick, come on over here!” JYD called. He was standing beside the Sergeant. We trotted over, water bottles in hand.

“I want you to meet somebody,” JYD said, gesturing to Sergeant Push-up.

“We sort of already know who he is,” Kia said.

“But do you two know
who
this gentleman is?” Jerome asked.

“Sergeant Push-up,” Kia said.

JYD chuckled. “That's one of his names. This is the man that taught me everything I know about basketball.”

“But I thought your father taught you everything…” Now it all made sense.

“This
is
my father…Mr. Johnnie Williams Junior.”

He shook both our hands. “Jerome told me all about you two,” Mr. Williams said.

“He has?” I asked.

“Sure, I always tell my father about my Dog Pound members,” JYD said.

“And we know a lot about you too,” Kia said.

“How's that?” Mr. Williams asked.

“Jerome and Johnnie talk about you…and how you taught them basketball.”

“And about life,” I added.

Mr. Williams smiled. “The life part is what makes me the happiest. I'm proud of what my boys have done on the court, but a lot more proud of what they do off the court.”

“Can I ask a question?” Kia asked.

“Sure,” he said.

“We're always willing to answer questions,” JYD said.

“I was just wondering…please don't take offence or anything,” she said.

“Now you got me interested. What are you going to ask that could get me offended?” JYD asked.

“Well…I was just wondering…are you going to be here much this week?”

“Of course, I am,” he said. “It's my camp.”

“Yeah, I know, but we heard that some celebrities only show up for a few hours,” Kia explained.

“That's not the way we run things around here,” Jerome said. “I'll be here all day, every day, from the start to the finish.”

“Could I ask a question too?” I asked.

“Of course,” JYD said.

“Since you're going to be here every day, from the start to the finish…I was just wondering, this morning, were you and Johnnie really late?”

“You saw us come into the gym,” JYD said.

“I saw you come in, but were you really late?” I asked.

“Why would you think differently?” Sergeant— Mr. Williams—said.

“It's just that we saw an Escalade in the parking lot that looked like yours,” I said.

“There are lots of Escalades in the world,” JYD replied.

“I said that,” Kia agreed.

“Anyway, why would you think that they'd come in late if they were already here?” Mr. Williams asked.

“To set an example,” I said. “You wanted everybody to see that the rules are the rules,” I answered. “For everybody.”

“Exactly! That makes perfect sense!” Kia said as she suddenly realized what I was saying. “Every kid here got to witness, with their own eyes, the fact that nobody is going to get away with breaking the rules…even Jerome Junk Yard Dog Williams has to answer if he does wrong.”

Neither of the Williams answered right away. Were they angry or upset about what we'd suggested?

Mr. Williams turned to his son. “You weren't telling lies. These two
are
sharp.”

“Then we're right?” Kia asked.

“Ssshhhhhh!” JYD said. “Keep your voice down.”

“We were right?” Kia whispered.

“You were right, but you can't tell anybody,” Mr. Williams said.

“We won't tell anybody,” I assured him.

“You can trust us to keep it a secret,” Kia said.

“Jerome?” Mr. Williams asked. “What do you think, can they keep a secret?”

“If they give their word then you can bet your life on it.”

“All I need to know. Now, enough talking. It's time to play some ball.”

Mr. Williams's expression suddenly got tough looking. I knew what was happening—Mr. Williams was becoming Sergeant Push-up again. He blew his whistle.

“Everybody down to the end line!” he called out, and everybody started into motion. “And let's have no walking!”

I'd been watching the clock pretty closely for the last thirty minutes. It was almost three o'clock, almost time for the first day to end. It had been fun, and I'd learned a whole lot, but I didn't know how much more I had in the tank. When we weren't doing drills, we were running, and when we weren't running, we were down on the ground doing push-ups—or sit-ups. I'd never been worked this hard in my whole life.

Parents—including my mother who had arrived ten minutes earlier—were filtering into the gym and taking spots in the bleachers, waiting and watching the last few minutes of the day.

“Bring it in!” Sergeant Kevin yelled. “Everybody into the center of the gym!”

“And no dawdling!” JYD added, causing people to rush into the middle.

“Take a seat.”

We all sat on the floor with JYD standing in the middle. It felt good to be sitting. Lying down would have been even better. I figured that the second my head hit the pillow in the motel tonight I'd be sound asleep.

“I want everybody to turn slightly to their right and give a pat on the back to the person sitting beside you,” JYD said.