His knees
bent, then straightened. The ball flipped from his hands. It was a perfect throw. It hit the backboard and bounded through
the hoop for two points.
Everybody—even the Arrows’ rooters—gave him a hand.
The Arrows showed some fight after that. Kim got in and scored a set shot. Then Ron made a neat break, followedby a quick drive in which netted them two more points.
On the next play Ron fouled. Coach Stickles took him out because it was Ron’s fourth foul. One more and he would be out for
good.
The Comets made the free throw, putting them ahead 49 to 47.
Dutchie passed the ball from out of bounds to Kim. A Comet player swept in like a bolt of lightning, caught the ball, and
dribbled upcourt. He stopped suddenly and hurled the ball to a teammate waiting under the basket. The player caught it and
dumped it in easily.
Kim took out the ball, tossed it to Dutchie. The Comet guard rushed in and tried to pull the ball from Dutchie’shands. They pulled and tugged, but neither let go of the ball.
The whistle shrilled.
“Jump!” cried the referee, the whistle bouncing against his chest as he ran forward.
The thin, long-legged Comet player outjumped Dutchie easily. He tapped the ball to a redheaded teammate who dribbled part
way up the court, then passed the ball. Another Comet snared it, stopped quickly, and tried a set shot. The ball sailed through
the air and into the basket.
Kim groaned.
“Go in, Ron!” said Coach Stickles. Ron went in. Jimmie Burdette passed the ball to him. Ron dribbled to thecenter of the court and bounced the ball to Dutchie, who threw it to Kim. Kim snapped it to Jimmie, who was running toward
the basket. A Comet player intercepted it, dribbled upcourt, then passed.
The ball hit Dutchie’s outstretched hand and started bouncing toward the out-of-bounds line when the horn blew, ending the
game.
The Arrows lost, 53 to 47.
4
A FTER supper Ron Tikula and Jimmie Burdette came over to Kim’s house. Kim could hear them talking as they approached on the
cement walk.
“Hi,” he said, as he opened the door.
“Hi, Kim,” Jimmie said. He and Ron wore dungarees and jackets. Both were carrying sneakers. Ron was bareheaded, but Jimmie
was wearing a blue baseball cap with the letter B on it. B stood for Brooklyn, Jimmie’s favorite baseball team.
“Can you come down to the gym?” Jimmie asked. “Or are you still tired?”
Kim smiled. “No, I’m not tired. Going to practice?”
“Naturally,” spoke up Ron. A crooked grin spread on his lips.
Kim looked at him, then looked back at Jimmie. “Wait a minute. I’ll ask my mother.”
He left the door part way open and started for the dining room. He stopped as his mother came into the kitchen. She was wearing
a white lace apron over a blue house dress.
“What is it, Kim?” she asked. Her blue eyes were exactly the color of his.
“Jimmie and Ron are here. They want me to go down to the gym with them.”
She came closer and ran her fingers through his thatch of blond hair.
“Did you tell them you couldn’t go tonight?”
He lowered his eyes from hers and looked straight at the wall. “I told them I’d ask you.”
She laughed softly and rumpled his hair again. “I’m sorry, darling. But you know what Mrs. Kelsey said about your singing
lessons.”
Kim pursed his lips. He wished she would not talk about his singing. He didn’t want the boys—especially Ron—to hear. But they
were just outside the opened door. They must have heard.
“Okay,” he said, before she could say any more. “I’ll tell them.”
He went to the door. “I can’t go tonight,” he said.
Ron laughed. “Got to practice singing, huh? What’re you trying to be—a TV star?”
“Pipe down,” Jimmie said. He waved to Kim. “Okay, Kim. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“‘Night,” said Kim.
He closed the door. When he turned, his mother was still standing there. He saw her eyes blink quickly a few
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