Sasquatch in the Paint (8 page)

“YOU'RE
Crazy Girl!” Brian burst out. His eyes widened as if he were staring at the slasher in a hockey mask from a horror film. He actually leaned away from her.

She laughed. “Is that what Sasquatch calls me?”

Brian nodded.

Theo sighed. In the presence of a girl, Brian was powerless. All he could do was tell the truth.

She shrugged. “I've been called worse.”

“I bet you have,” Theo muttered.

“But most people call me by my name. Which is Rain Kadinski.” She offered her hand and Brian reluctantly shook it.

“Brian Horowitz.” Brian looked her over as he shook: black leather Doc Martens boots that laced to her knees. Purple-and-black-striped tights. Denim shorts. White T-shirt with the word
LESS
printed on the front in tiny black letters.

“Your name is Rain?” Theo asked.

“Yup. My parents wanted to ruin my life from day one. Every time I introduce myself, I have to give an explanation. Yes, it's my real name. Yes, I get teased. No, I don't want to be a weather forecaster. No, my parents aren't hippies. Just once I'd appreciate it if someone said, ‘Pleased to meet you, Rain,' and that was that. Can you imagine if I added up all the minutes of explanation throughout my lifetime? I've wasted
years
talking about my name. Like right now, for example.” She picked up Theo's half-eaten pizza, plucked off the pepperonis, and took a huge bite. “Jeez, I'm starving. I missed lunch.” She tossed the remaining crust back onto his plate. “Thanks.”

“What are you doing here?” Theo asked.

“Chillin' with my new buds.” She laughed again, drank some of Brian's milk.

Brian recoiled as if she'd licked a toilet. When she put the milk back on his tray, he said, “That's all right. You can finish it.”

She did.

Brian and Theo exchanged looks that said: “Who does that? Who eats a stranger's pizza? Drinks his milk?”

“What are you doing at our school?” Theo demanded, like a cop who's just caught a burglar and wants to know where the stolen loot is hidden.

“Attending classes, dude. I go here, too. Have been for a month. That's why I was at your basketball game yesterday. I just got the bleachers mixed up and sat on the opposing team's side.”

“You go here?” Theo said. “How come I haven't seen you before?”

“For one, we're not in any of the same classes. For another, you're not very observant. But that's typical for a resident of Walla-Walla Land.”

“Walla-Walla Land?” Brian asked.

“Don't encourage her, Brian. Let's go.” Theo started to get up, but Brian didn't, apparently under Crazy Girl/Rain's spell.

“Walla-walla,” she explained, “is what they call the background noise in movies. You know, when the main characters are having dinner and discussing their relationship, but you can still hear the other diners in the background muttering and clanging their silverware. That background noise is called walla-walla. I have a cousin who's a film major at UCLA.”

“What's that got to do with me?” Theo asked.

“That's where you live, isn't it? Both of you? In the background? A dim noise that can't quite be identified?”

An uncomfortable silence settled in.

“You're kind of mean,” Brian finally said.

“I'm not being mean. I live there, too. I recognize my own kind. Like dogs, only without the awkward sniffing.”

“Hey, Theo,” Tunes called from the WOW table. “Is this right?” He played the piano app on his phone. It was Gavin's song. Other students turned to listen.

“Why are you playing that?” Theo snapped.

“Because it's a cool tune. I think I remember most of it.” He tapped out the melody and sang a few lyrics. Students at other tables nodded, impressed. When he was done, he called, “Is that right?”

Theo turned away. “I don't know, and I don't care.”

“Can I borrow the CD from your backpack so I can burn a copy?”

“No!” Theo said. “I told you, it's supposed to be private. He doesn't want other people listening to it.”

“Too late,” one of his WOW buddies said with a chuckle.

“Sorry, man,” Tunes said, and put his phone away.

Everyone returned to what they were doing as if nothing had happened. Theo thought everything in middle school was like that. Students went through the day like pets on a leash. When something shiny or loud caught their attention, they all looked and barked for a few seconds, then continued walking until they passed the next shiny or loud thing.

“This day sucks,” Theo muttered.

“It's about to get suckier,” Brian said. “Bogie at three o'clock!”

Theo and Rain turned to see Brooke approaching with another girl beside her. The other girl was a seventh grader, Constance Rodriguez, who was an alternate on the Brain Train team. The alternates trained at a separate time, and then the two teams had a mock showdown before official matches as a way to prep the first team. The first team always beat the alternate team. Theo had been on the alternate team for two years. Last year he and Constance were on it together. Constance was very smart.

“Don't walk too close to her, Constance,” Brian whispered to Theo, “you'll burst into flames.”

Theo laughed.

“What's so funny?” Brooke said. “Never mind, I'm sure it was some sort of adolescent male insult directed at me.”

Theo and Brian looked away.

Brooke checked out Rain as if she were a broken toy she'd received for Christmas. One dipped in dog poop. Then she ignored her and focused on Theo. “After your pathetic performance today, I proposed to Mr. J that we send you down as an alternate and bring Constance up to replace you.”

“What?!”
Brian hollered. Several students still eating lunch turned to look. “You can't do that!”

“Can. Did.”

“But Theo is one of the best members of the team.”

“Was. Isn't. Notice the verb tense change?”

Theo didn't know what to say. It had never occurred to him that even Brooke would ever do something as terrible as this to him. “What did Mr. J say?” he finally asked.

“He didn't say yes. But he didn't say no.” She almost smiled. “He said it was an interesting suggestion and he would take it under advisement.”

Theo was even more shocked. He would have expected Mr. J to kick her out of his office, maybe even off the team, for making such an underhanded suggestion. Theo knew Mr. J was a teacher and all, but he thought they were sort of friends. As much as you could be with a teacher.

“Dude,” Brian said to Brooke, “you are like some kind of Evil Queen or Wicked Witch. Seriously.”

Brooke snorted. Theo recognized it as Snort Number 16: “Whatever you said isn't worth listening to because you are beneath my notice.”

Theo considered Constance. They'd been friendly when they were both alternates. She'd once told him about her dog getting hit by a car, and he'd been sympathetic. Now Constance seemed to be in a state of shock rather than excitement. Theo realized that was because she hadn't known what Brooke had done. Brooke had probably told Constance to follow her to Theo's table, and she had done so because, well, people did what Brooke told them to do.

“Anyway,” Brooke said, “I don't like going behind anyone's back, so I'm telling you to your face. It's not personal. Just what's best for the team.” She looked right at Theo, and he could see that there was no anger or spite in her eyes. She believed what she was saying. “You're holding us back, Theo.”

Brooke walked away, and Constance hurried behind her, trying to catch up. Constance glanced over her shoulder at Theo and mouthed, “Sorry.” But, of course, that wouldn't stop her from replacing him.

“Man, this stinks!” Brian said. “We should go talk to Mr. J.”

“Why?” Rain asked. Was she actually eating the cookie crumbs from Brian's tray?

“Because she's trying to get me kicked off the team,” Theo said, “that's why.”

“Is she wrong?” She licked her fingers of the last crumbs.

“What?” Brian asked, shocked by the question.

“Is she wrong about Theo's performance on the team? Has he been slacking off? Is he pulling the team down?”

Theo and Brian looked at each other.

“That's not the point!” Brian snapped. “The point is we're friends, and you don't ditch a friend like that. I bet Daryl and Tunes will back us up. If Theo goes, we'll all quit.”

Rain wagged her head back and forth like she was weighing both sides. “That's noble and all, but if Theo is such a good friend, shouldn't he be pulling his weight? Isn't that his duty as a friend to the rest of you?”

“He's also got basketball practice,” Brian said.

“Maybe he can't do both.”

Brian started to answer, then hesitated. Brian was loyal, Theo knew, but he was also smart. Good arguments were good arguments and he couldn't deny them.

Theo stood up, grabbed his tray, and started walking away. Brian followed. “You wouldn't understand friendship,” Theo said to Rain without turning, “because you don't have any friends.”

“Maybe,” she replied. “But am I wrong about you?”

“CATCH
the freakin'
ball
, Theo!”

“Dribble toward the basket, Theo!
Toward!
”

“Don't shoot! Pass it, dude! Pass it
now
!”

“Bounce-pass, Theo!
Bounce-pass!
”

Theo's teammates were hollering at him the way they would at a stray dog who was running off with their backpacks. He tried to follow their advice, but it was just too hard to do everything at once. And everything he did do was wrong.

Whatever goodwill he'd earned from the rumors of his playing at the park and standing up to Motorcycle Guy had been erased by his stumbling around the court today like a three-legged rabbit caught in a cattle stampede. As far as his teammates were concerned, he was back to square one.

Square one sucked!

Practice that day had started with so much hope.

As the team was dressing in the locker room, a couple guys who'd never even spoken to Theo off court had nodded hello. One kid had called him “slugger” in a nonsarcastic way. Roger and Sinjin ignored him, but that meant they didn't insult him, so this was progress.

“Listen up, men!” Coach shouted from his office. “Everybody in here on the double. Hustle it up!”

The players hurried into his office. Coach Mandrake sat behind his messy desk, waving everyone in. “C'mon, c'mon. There's plenty of room.”

The boys crowded closer to look at his computer screen.

Theo noticed three Starbucks coffee cups on the desk. Two had been there so long that they had begun to leak coffee onto the papers beneath them. Most of the papers on the desk had old coffee rings on them. Coach didn't seem to care.

“I want to show you boys something,” Coach said.

He clicked on a YouTube video.

The boys watched the screen as a high school basketball team filed into a gym. Among them was a black boy who towered so far above his teammates that they all looked like toddlers.

“That's Mamadou N'Diaye,” Coach said.

“Yeah, I've heard of him,” Roger said. “He's playing at that Christian high school in Huntington Beach. He's like nine feet tall or something.”

“Seven feet five inches,” Coach said. “He's only seventeen, but considered the tallest high school player in the world. Watch what they do.”

The clip showed the team running the same play over and over. They'd throw Mamadou the ball, he'd turn around, take one step, and dunk it through the hoop. Sometimes another player would shoot. If he missed, Mamadou would grab the rebound, turn, and dunk.

“Dude,” Sami Russell whispered in awe. Sami was the smallest guy on the team, but also the fastest.

“Yeah.” Thomas Farley nodded. Thomas was the team's best free throw shooter.

“Catch, turn, drop-step, dunk,” Coach said. “That's their strategy, and that's basically going to be ours.”

Everyone looked at Theo.

Theo's stomach twisted like a wet rag being wrung.

“Coach,” Theo said, “first, that guy's almost a foot taller than me. Second, I can't dunk.”

“A layup is as good as a dunk, Theo.”

“He can't do a layup either,” Roger said.

A few boys murmured agreement.

Coach waved dismissively. “I'm not saying we don't have some work to do. But we have to take advantage of what we have. Besides, we don't need Theo to make all the shots. He needs to just make enough that the other side double-teams him. That will leave one of our guys open, and Theo can pass the ball to him for a free shot.” Coach stood up. “Now get out on the court and give me a couple laps. Then we start running our new plays. Today is the start of a whole new dynasty for the Ravens.”

“Ravens!” a couple guys hollered enthusiastically as they ran out to the gym.

“Theo,” Coach said as the other boys hustled off.

Theo stopped.

Coach waited until the others were gone. He stared at Theo with a serious expression. “You can do this, Theo.”

Theo nodded. “Right.”

“You have to believe that, son.”

Theo kept nodding. “Right. I do.”

But, of course, he didn't believe it. Any more than he believed in the Easter Bunny or Looks-Don't-Matter-It's-What's-Inside-That-Counts.

Practice proved him right.

He chest-passed when he should have bounce-passed. Result: interception.

He pivoted on the wrong foot. Result: traveling.

He cleared out players with his left hand while reaching for the lob pass with his right hand. Result: foul.

He lowered his shoulder into the defender when moving toward the basket. Result: foul.

He reached in to swat at the ball while the offense backed into him. Result: foul.

When trying to block a shot, he fell forward into the shooter. Result: foul.

After forty minutes, Coach blew the whistle for a team huddle.

Theo shuffled in exhausted, sweat running down his face.

“Coach,” Roger said with frustration, “he's gonna foul out of every game before we get to use your strategy.”

“Dude,” Sami said to Theo, “you gotta stop hacking. Players are supposed to hack you and foul out, not the other way around.”

“Sorry,” Theo said.

Chris Richards spoke. It was so rare an occurrence that the other boys parted to allow his words to be heard. “Use your hips to keep him in place,” Chris said. “Don't even try for the ball. One of us will swing around and pressure him to force a bad pass or weak shot. Then you've got position. You can box him out and snag the rebound.”

“Right, Chris,” Coach said. “That's exactly right.”

The boys all nodded in agreement, like parishioners at Theo's grandma's church. Theo half expected to hear an “Amen!” or “Hallelujah!”

Coach waved them all in closer. “Look, you all did fine today. Theo, you just tried a little too hard, tried to force things. But as we keep practicing the plays, you'll relax, get more comfortable. Let's give it a week and see where we stand then. If it's not working, we'll make some changes.” Coach rubbed his hands together enthusiastically as the boys moved toward the locker room. “It's a process, boys. A process.”

Process, Theo thought. Another word for square one.