Wheel Wizards (8 page)

“Yeah, I … I will. I
will
.” Seth turned his chair toward the intersection. “We'd better get moving.”

“Okay.” As they crossed the street, Lou sighed.

“What's the matter?” asked Seth.

“I just hope Phyllis can help me with this math stuff,” Lou muttered. “But I have my doubts.”

“Sure she will,” Seth said, grinning. “Hey, look at it like a new challenge. The toughest tests are the ones most worth passing.
Right?”

“Right!” said Lou, and both boys laughed.

T
omorrow's the day I have my first workout with the Wizards,” said Seth, whose eyes remained fixed on the carpet as his fingers
tapped restlessly on the arms of his chair. “Howard, the coach, called over the weekend. That's the major news.”

Brian Murtaugh smiled at the boy. “I'd say it's pretty big! Exciting, too, I think. But never mind how
I
feel about it, how do
you
feel?”

“Me?” Seth looked up at the therapist. “How
should
I feel? I feel great!”

Brian's eyebrows raised in a look of surprise. “Really? Great, huh? That's why you're doing a drum routine with your fingers
on your chair, to show how great you feel?”

Startled, Seth pulled his hands into his lap. “I didn't even know I was doing that. But I really do
feel great. My family think's it's great, Danny thinks it's great, my best friend, Lou, thinks it's great, so how else should
I feel?”

Brian leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head. “Let's forget about how you
should
feel for the moment, and think about how you
really
feel. And don't say ‘great’ again, okay? Don't try to con Uncle Brian, we know each other too well.”

Seth felt his face go red and was angry for just a second, but then laughed. “Okay, Uncle Brian, I guess you're too sharp
for me.”

“That's why
I'm
the doctor and
you're
the patient. I agree that this ought to make you feel very good; it's a big step up in a sport that is very important to
you. The question is: How come you don't actually feel that way?”

“Well…” Seth closed his eyes and said nothing for a minute. Then he looked at Brian. “What if I'm not ready? What if I'm not
good enough to cut it? These guys are older, they're better. What if they say, ‘Come back next year,’ or even, ‘Don't come
back at all?’

Brian nodded slowly. “It could happen, I suppose. Danny and Wes might be wrong about you. These
guys think you have what it takes, but maybe they're both off the mark. What would happen then?”

“I don't know!” Seth took a breath. “It'd be bad. I'd feel like a … like a total loser.

“Another thing, Wes and Danny and Con really helped me and encouraged me and made sure I did the right things and believed
in myself. They won't be around now Con is going to college, like Danny. Without them, I don't know. I might turn out to be
a …”

“A loser?” Brian asked, softly.

Seth just stared at him.

“Let's think back a couple of years,” suggested Brian. “Think about when you first started seeing me. Remember how you were
then, the way you thought and felt?”

“Yeah. I was angry a lot of the time… .”

“
All
the time …, ” Brian corrected.

Seth smiled. “I felt sorry for myself and didn't want to have anything to do with anyone. I thought my life was over.”

“That's a good summary.” Brian leaned toward Seth. “When you think about yourself then and now, how far you've come, the progress
you've made
physically, mentally, emotionally, can you really see yourself as a
loser
? Could a
loser
have done all that?”

Seth smiled. “Well, no, but —”

Brian held up a hand like a policeman stopping traffic. “No but!
No … but!
You are not a loser. You are a
winner
and a
doer
.

“You've found out a lot about yourself during the last couple of years, things you might not have learned so soon if you hadn't
had that accident. But you still don't know how strong you are. I think you'll be surprised to discover that there's more
to you than you know of yet.

“More strength, and I don't just mean muscles, either. Here's what I know: You'll go there tomorrow and you'll give it your
best shot. Here's what I believe: You'll do just fine. And you'll put some of your doubts to rest.”

Seth thought about it. Then he said, “Will you come to any games?”

Brian nodded. “I'll be there.”

H
ow does that new chair feel?” asked Mrs. Pender, who was dropping Seth off at the school where the Wizards were practicing.

“Unbelievable!” said Seth, moving it around, testing its maneuverability. “It's so
light!
” The Penders had gotten Seth the chair with the aid of a foundation that helped pay for expensive chairs for wheelchair athletes.
The frame was made of a superlight alloy that was also used on the finest racing bicycles. Seth
felt
like a better player in it.

“Seth!” Pete Gould came toward him from the door of the school. “How's —”

Seeing the new chair, he stopped short, and his eyes widened. “
Wow
,” he whispered. “That is an
awesome
set of wheels!”

Seth smiled. “We got it last night. There's this organization
that gave us part of what it cost. I'll tell you how to find them.”

Pete stared at the chair. “That'd be great.” Finally he tore his eyes away and looked at Seth. “You ready for this?”

Seth licked his lips. “Yeah, I guess. … I mean,
sure!
You?”

Pete laughed nervously. “As ready as
you
are. I mean, Wes and Danny say we are.”

“Right!” Seth took a deep breath. “So, let's go.”

In the gym, half a dozen Wizards were scattered around the floor, shooting balls or working on their chairs. At first nobody
seemed to notice the newcomers. Seth started out on the floor, and Pete followed.

“They don't like us,” he whispered.

“Be cool,” Seth whispered back. “They haven't known you long enough to dislike you.”

“Very funny,” Pete muttered.

A dark-haired boy in a sleeveless sweatshirt turned to them. “How you doing? Are you Seth and Pete? I'm Gil Marin.”

Seth and Pete introduced themselves, and a few others came forward to give their names. One of
them, a thin blond named Andy with muscular forearms and huge hands, gestured toward Seth's chair.

“Great chair. That a Tornado?”

Seth nodded. “Yeah, it's brand-new”

“Ernie has a Tornado,” said Gil, looking around. “Guess he's not here yet. You guys want to get warm, grab a ball and shoot.”

“Thanks,” Pete said, scooping up a loose ball and moving closer to a basket. Seth did the same, and lofted a twelve-footer
than banged off the rim.

As he put up a few shots, Seth began to relax, feeling comfortable in a familiar routine. A few other players arrived, including
Ernie, whose chair was like Seth's, except that his wheels were angled more. There wasn't much chatter; everyone concentrated
on their warmup.

As Seth sank a fifteen-foot shot off the board, Ernie came up. “You like that chair?”

Ernie looked to be sixteen and wore a baseball cap with the bill turned backward.

“Yeah!” replied Seth. “You like yours?”

“Uh-huh.” Ernie pointed down to the front wheels. “I adjusted the camber because I get more
control when I — we'll talk later. Here come the coaches.”

Two men had arrived, one in a wheelchair, the other, walking. The one in the chair stuck two fingers in his mouth and gave
a piercing whistle. The boys gathered around.

“Everyone here?” asked the man who had whistled. He looked around and saw Seth and Pete. “I'm Howard Sturgis, and this is
our other coach, Chan McGuire. Which of you is Seth and which is Pete?”

The boys introduced themselves, and Howard saw that they had met the rest of the team.

“We have a lot to do, so let's get to it,” said Chan. “For the benefit of the new guys — and anyone who needs reminding —
we don't have stars here. We're a
team
, period. We don't do much warmup; you're expected to keep yourselves in shape.

“What we do, mostly, in practice is learn offensive and defensive sets and plays and
drill
them. It'll be hard, especially at first, and you may find it dull. But you'll find that it will all pay off when we play.
Any questions? Good.”

The Wizards split into squads and ran plays. They
didn't work on things like dribbling; you were supposed to know how. Seth couldn't remember ever working as hard.

Each coach ran a squad, and they worked on weaves, single and double picks and screens, and other offenses, running them over
and over as the coaches pointed out errors in positioning or mechanics, repeating each play until Seth ached and thought he
might faint.

Finally, just as Seth was ready to beg for a breather, Howard whistled. Seth was relived to see that the other players were
also breathing hard and sweating. It wasn't just him.

“Everyone, take ten,” Howard called out. “Then we'll run five-on-five plays and work defensive sets.”

Pete groaned softly. “You mean we're not done? There's more?
Arrrggghhh!
”

Ernie grinned at Pete. “You ready to hang it up? We're just getting started?”

Pete rolled his eyes and said, “If I don't make it, tell my folks I loved 'em.”

Gil and Ernie laughed.

When practice resumed, the coaches went over
defensive sets the team would use: two-three, three-two, and diamond-and-one zones, and full- and half-court presses. The
team split into squads to work defenses and demonstrate ways to beat them on offense.

Seth's arms and upper body began to ache again, but he was still finding the session fascinating and learning a lot.

Shortly before practice ended, Seth's squad tried a formation designed to break a full-court press. He raced to midcourt,
where he fielded a baseball-style pass from Ernie. Turning downcourt, he saw Andy wheeling hard for the baseline and fired
a long bounce pass. Andy caught it without slowing down and flipped in a layup. He turned to Seth and gave him a clenched-fist
salute. Seth suddenly felt wonderful and forgot about the fatigue he had been feeling just seconds ago.

He turned and spotted Danny sitting at courtside. The older boy nodded.

“All right!” called Chan. “That's it for now. Get your rest and be set to go tomorrow!”

Danny called, “Good assist, there.”

“Thanks,” Seth said. “That was rough!”

“Sure,” Danny agreed. “But you and Pete are fitting right in.”

Seth was startled. “Really? Nobody said a word to us.”

Danny laughed. “Of course not! Don't you get it by now?”

Seth thought for a moment. “I guess nobody wastes much time being nice, do they?”

“In this sport,” Danny said, “when someone gives you a compliment, it's something really special.”

Seth thought back to the clenched fist Andy had flashed a minute ago. “Yeah, I see that it is.”

S
eth winced at the shrill sound of Howard's two-finger whistle. The coach was standing next to him with a scowl on his face,
an expression the Wizards dreaded.

“Come on, Ernie, get your brain in gear!” the coach snapped. “You should've handled that pass! It was right in your hands!”

“Sorry, I blew it,” mumbled Ernie, looking apologetic. “No excuse.”

“You
bet
there's no excuse!” Howard growled. “I guarantee you, pull that tomorrow and the Lobos will make you pay for it.”

The next night, the Lobos would be the Wizards' first opponents of the season. Howard had a quick, whispered conversation
with Chan, who clapped his hands sharply. “Let's take a break. Then we'll work
on some plays that looked pretty shabby today. The starters will start on offense against the subs, and I don't want to see
any silly mistakes when we get back to work!”

Seth and Pete, who were both substitutes, went for some water. Ernie joined them. “Coach can get rough when he wants to,”
said Pete.

Ernie shrugged. “No big deal. I've heard it all before. Anyway, he was
right
, no way I should let that pass get by me.”

Andy, another starter, who had lost both legs just above the knee at the age of six, joined them. He studied Seth's chair
and asked, “You like that cushion? It looks uncomfortable.”

“No, it's fine,” said Seth. “I tried one that I thought would be easier on my back, but this gives me better support.”

“You guys know anything about the Lobos?” Pete asked.

“They were great last year,” Ernie said. “But two of their key guys are gone, and I don't know how that'll affect them.”

“We ought to play them tough,” added Andy, “if
our bench doesn't let us down.” He winked at Ernie, who snickered.

Seth grinned. “Don't worry, we'll bail you out when you get into trouble, right, Pete?”

Straight-faced, Pete nodded. “Definitely. Just call us the Emergency Rescue Squad — there when you starters break down.”

The second half of practice was almost as competitive as a game. Seth, Pete, and the other substitutes played their hardest
and gave the starters all they could handle. Playing man-to-man defense, Seth guarded Gil for several minutes and stuck to
him stubbornly. Gil kept trying quick feints and spins in an effort to get open for a pass, but couldn't do it for several
possessions in a row. Finally, he broke away by taking advantage of a pick set by Ernie, and sank a ten-foot shot.

But Seth darted forward to steal a pass almost out of Gil's hands a moment later and fired a long pass to Pete, who had broken
toward the other end of the court. Pete, in turn, bounced a beautifully timed lead pass to a sub named Mick, who scored.

“What's going on here?” Howard called out.
“Maybe we got things backward. The subs are making you starters look like losers! Gil, you should have been able to screen
Seth off that pass! Seth, Pete … . heads up playing there!”