Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13


The wind had gotten stronger and colder in the short time they had been in the diner. Jon had his coat zipped up to his chin as he and Kate walked from the parking lot into the gym. The .357 was in Jon’s inner pocket and it jostled around uneasily as Jon tried to make the walk as brisk as possible.
“Remember, Jon, you don’t have to be playing like Michael Jordan in three hours. You just have to prove that you have a rudimentary knowledge of the game and some of the drills since that is what Coach Malone will be testing the team on today.”
“I’ve got the rules down pat. That’s the easy part. I’ve been watching Stan play every game he’s played in the last four years. I know the game; I just don’t get the game. It makes no sense to me. Why should the guy keep bouncing the ball? Why can’t he just hold the ball? They hold the ball in football. Maybe they should just hold the ball, run down the court, get the best court position, and then make a basket before somebody tackles them. Wouldn't that make more sense?"
Kate just rolled her eyes.
“Look, no disrespect to sports people. I’ve been told that I don’t understand sports. I understand sports just fine. I understand the rules. I just don’t know why most people consider soccer a sport and not bowling.”
“Bowling?”
“Bowling. It’s not easy to keep a sixteen-pound ball on that thin little lane. Try rolling a basketball down a bowling alley and see how well that works.”
“You are so strange sometimes, Jon.”
“What it comes down to Kate is this, I understand the rules of basketball, I’m just not sure that I can actually perform any of the necessary basketball feats.”
Jon opened the door for Kate as they got to the building. Stan & Greg were already waiting.
“Good morning, race fans!” Greg shouted across the lobby.
Jon glared at his friend.
“Where you been?”
“We went out for breakfast,” Jon replied.
Stan stood up from the bench he had been waiting on. “Breakfast? And now you think you can run up and down a court for almost 8 hours straight? Practice goes until five tonight, Jon.”
Jon looked at Kate who tipped her head slightly to the left with a smirk. “You’re going to need the energy.”
“He does need the energy,” Stan agreed. “But he can live without the cramps he’s going to get for the next hour or so.”
“Cramps?” Jon’s color drained ever so slightly from his face.
“Just get him ready, Stan. That’s why we let you in on the deal. That and you’d have to know something was up when Jon joined the team. Just get him ready,” Kate commanded.
“He will be.”
Kate turned to Jon. “I will be waiting for you at five on the east exit of your school gym. No screwing around after practice. Come right out and then you need to be debriefed. We’ll get all your info and then you can go on your date with Aleisha.” She patted him on the back. “Do well.”
“Yes, sensei,” Jon said.
Kate handed him a gym bag that contained all of his newly purchased gym equipment. Jon took it and followed his friends into the locker room.
“Good luck, Jon. You’re going to need it.”


Kate had booked an entire basketball court just for the three of them. It seemed a little eerie to Jon to be one-third of all individuals in an entire gym. Each squeak of the shoes or each breath seemed to echo for an eternity.
“Ok, Jon,” Stan started, “remember, we don’t need you to be proficient, just good. If you can at least hold your own and look like you know what you’re doing, the rest will take care of itself.”
“So, you want me to act?””
“Precisely.”
“I can do that.”
“Good. I am going to be on the court with you. I will put a little pressure on you at all times to force you into an adrenaline rush like you will feel this afternoon on the real court. Greg is going to be paying particular attention to form. Got it?’
Jon nodded. “Got it.”
“Ok. First things first. Dribbling. It is the basic building block of all of the offensive moves on the court. If you can’t dribble well, you can’t play basketball.” Stan picked up two basketballs from the gym floor. He threw one to Jon and he started bouncing the other with his right hand. “Dribbling is a skill in and of itself-“
“The first thing babies learn,” Greg mumbled.
Stan shot him a look that shut Greg up immediately. “Moving on from that, you can’t bounce the ball too fast, too slow, too hard, or too soft. It has to be at a comfortable speed so that you can control the direction its moving in. The force that you bounce the ball has to be just hard enough to make it bounce back up to your palm, but not too hard so that you can’t change directions or grasp the ball easily.”
“You weren’t kidding when you were talking about how this seemed easy, were you?”
“No, I really wasn’t. Now, since you’re right handed, put the ball into your right hand. Now, just start bouncing the ball. I will demonstrate and then you will just do what I do, okay?”
Jon did as he was told. He watched and observed as Stan did it, and he copied in the same rhythm.
“Good. Very good. Keep the same rhythm. Don’t go too fast. Don’t go too slow. Keep it moving. Boom, boom, boom,” Stan made his voice like a metronome, ”boom, boom, boom. Good, good. Keep it going. Good. Boom, boom, boom. Now, keeping the same force on the ball and not bouncing it any harder, speed up the dribble.” Stan started bouncing his ball at double speed and his voice followed suit. “Boom, boom, boom, boom. Good. Keep that speed up! But, don’t put too much extra oomph on the ball. There you go! Good!”
Jon’s right hand was getting very tired, very quickly. “Can I slow down yet?”
“Not yet. Keep it going!” Jon continued. “Boom, boom, boom, boom, good! Four more times and…slow the dribble down now!”
Jon stopped exerting so much pressure on the ball and almost immediately it stopped bouncing and started barely getting above the floorboards. Jon stooped quickly and started bouncing it again at which point the dribble recovered effectively and Jon kept a nice, slow, easy going dribble speed.
“Nice! Way to recover! Okay, next, I want you to take five steps to the right. Nice and easy, keep the ball going at a consistent speed and a consistent height. You’re just going to angle it ever so slightly to the right when you’re ready to take the step. Ready? Step one!” Stan demonstrated and then nodded to Jon.
Jon did as he was told and made the transition nicely.
“Good! Very good! Ready again? Step two!”
As Jon went to take the second step, he moved his foot too soon, the ball bounced off of it, and headed for its refuge in the corner.
“It’s okay, Jon! It’s okay! No problems! Greg, can you please throw him another ball?” Stan asked as his ball kept bouncing.
Greg tossed another basketball into the fray and went and retrieved the lost one.
“Get the rhythm going again, ok? Boom, boom, boom, boom.” Jon started and got the ball into Stan’s metronome voice. “Very good. Now, try taking the step again. Watch me. Just a light tap just before you want to take the step.” Stan demonstrated and Jon followed suit. “Good! Right on! Again! Step three!”
Jon performed this one perfectly.
“Nice! Step four!”
Again, Jon kept his dribbling at an even pace. He had to reach and stretch to keep the ball in check, but he handled it deftly.
“Good recovery again. Now, Step five! Go!”
This time, Jon angled the ball too far and as his right arm reached out for it, he got his footing tripped up and stumbled a few steps too far. He eventually righted himself, but the squeaking from his shoes was still echoing. Jon grinned.
Stan shook his head. “Perfect. Just perfect. It’s like we’re pulling teeth here.”



“Kate!” Chad Peterson was surprised to see Kate walk into his hospital room. “Good to see you! What’s up? I thought you’d be with the new guy.”
“He’s in good hands right now, Chad. We’ve, uh, brought in outside help since you’re unavailable.”
“Who?”
Kate looked at the Styrofoam box she was carrying, put it on Chad’s rolling food tray and placed it in front of him. “I brought you something.”
“Don’t change the subject like that, Kate. Who did you bring in?”
“It’s my usual. A double ham, cheese, and mushroom omelet. After dropping off Jon, I came right over so it should still be fresh and warm.”
Chad hadn’t looked down at his food offering. He still had his gaze fixed on Kate.
“His best friends, Stan Ingle and Greg Taylor.”
“What?”
“I Okayed it through Bender. There was no other way we could get him on that team. Impossible! It’s his own school’s basketball team and his best friend was on it! He has gone to school with some of the same kids for twelve years! If we tried to just slide him in on the team, someone may have made a stink!”
“And they’re still not going to? You just brought two wild cards into this! That place is filling up fast! Is he really that important?”
Kate paused and looked at the floor. “Yes. He really is.”
Chad opened his peace offering. As he picked up his fork, he asked Kate a question that took her by surprise. “Does he know?”
Kate avoided eye contact and looked everywhere but at Chad. “No. He has no clue.”
Chad took his first bite and spit it immediately back into the box. “Damn hot!”
Kate picked up the pitcher from Chad’s tray and filled it with water from the bathroom sink. She poured it into his gas station mug that was next to his bed. Chad took a sip. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
Another awkward pause. After his second bite, Chad took a drink and looked at Kate again. “When will contact be made?”
“He will be going with Stan to practice at noon. Sometime after that, I hope.”
“Do we have anything yet?”
“No. Something’s up. Something major for two lives to be taken, but we still can’t place it.”
“How’s Bender holding up?”
Kate smiled. “He’s good. I think he’s going to get another ulcer by the time this is done, but he’s holding up quite well.”
Chad paused as he took another bite. “Kate? What the hell is this?”
“It’s a ham, cheese, and mushroom omelet with double everything.”
“This is your usual?”
“Yeah.”
“Kate, are you insane? No one should be eating this! Least of all, you!”
“Just shut up and eat.”


Stan did a spinning bounce pass to Jon. Jon caught the ball and stood firmly in place.
“You are standing at the foul line, Jon.”
Jon smiled sarcastically at Stan. “Thanks for the tip.”
“I was told to assume nothing. Start dribbling to keep in practice.” Jon did so. “Anyway, the foul line is at the top of what is known as the key. During game time, you can not stand in the key for any more than 3 seconds if you are on the offensive team.” Stan stopped and turned to Greg. “And, no, there is not supposed to be any swearing or rude finger gestures whenever your team has the ball.” He turned back to Jon. “The whole point of basketball is to get the ball you’re bouncing to go through the hoop. One of the most important shots is the foul shot. It can make or break games. It can also get you into a good pattern of being able to make baskets. So, we are going to be making foul shots.”
“Okay. I think I’m ready.”
“Good. What I want you to do first is to just throw the ball at the basket.”
Jon did so and the ball ricocheted off the top of the backboard. Greg threw him another ball.
“Ok. So, you see how hard you threw that? Soften it up just a bit so that it can stay within region of the backboard and basket.”
Again, Jon followed Stan’s directions and this time, the ball bounced harmlessly off of the bottom right hand corner of the standard. Greg tossed another ball to Jon.
“Even better. Good job. Now using that same amount of thrust on the ball, try to hit the white square just above the basket.”
Jon did so and the ball came right back to him.
“Nice. That’s what we want. Now, soften up your toss just a smidge and try to get the ball to just swish down into the net.
Jon did as he had seen many basketball foul line throwers do; he bounced the ball a few times and aimed. The ball bounced off the front rim and again basically went back to Jon. He reached out and grabbed the ball as it tried to zoom past him, but it didn’t quite make it.
“All right!” Stan clapped his hands a few times. “You are right there! You are so there, it’s scary! You softened just a little too much. Put a tad more on it, and you’ve got it!”
This time, Jon’s ball went for a beeline to the front of the rim and shot back at Jon so quickly, he had to duck to get out of its way.
“Good amount of push, now, just arc the ball in the air a bit more and you’ve got it!”
Jon did it and felt an amazing sense of relief as he heard the ball swish through the net.
“Right on, Jon!” Stan whooped and clapped. “Nice going! Now, you do not get to move from that line until you make ninety-nine more foul shots! Go!”




“Come on, Dana, we’re going to miss the flight!” Aaron Goodwin coaxed his girlfriend, Dana Hurley out of the closet.
“I watched the National News! They said that a storm is blowing into Salt Lake!” Dana yelled from deep inside the couple’s closet.
“It is, but it won’t be that much worse than here. More snow, maybe, but cold will be all relative. This is a very humid cold, Salt Lake is more of a dry cold, after the precipitation.”
Dana’s head poked out of the closet. “I have no idea what you just meant, but you are truly adorable.”
Aaron blushed slightly. “Just take a big heavy parka and you’ll be fine!”
“But which one? I want to make sure I’m ready for the dry cold.”
”How about if we just get to the airport?”
“How about if you just relax for a minute, sweetie?”
“I’m perfectly relaxed because I know that all flights out of New York hold for third place network sports reporters before they take off.”
Dana brought herself out of the closet. “Good point.”
“I’m also relatively sure that there is no place to buy a coat in Salt Lake. I watched the National News and they said that all coat sellers have gone out of business for some odd reason in that area.”
Dana smiled at her geeky boyfriend. “Very cute, dear.”
Aaron followed her toward the front door. After they had toted all of their luggage out into the hallway, Aaron locked the door and turned to hurry to the elevators. Dana was blocking his way.
“The next time I enter that apartment, I will have been on the air, live, with a report.”
“I know.”
“When we get back, I will either have a new career as a reporter or I’ll be stuck in the control room for the rest of my life.”
“I know.”
“Don’t get me wrong, Aaron, I love Jennifer, and Will, and Chris, and Dave, but I want to be a reporter.”
“I know.”
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be. Ever since I was a kid was a sports reporter and here’s my chance. If I blow this, I’m not going to have anyone to blame but myself.”
“Dana, these are all things I know. You’re not going to blow it because you are very talented, and have a lot of knowledge. People will like you in front of the camera. Everyone back here will be rooting for you, and I will be right in the truck feeding you anything you need through your earpiece. You won’t fail. We won’t let you. But, if we don’t leave now, we might miss our plane, so can we go please?”
Dana smiled and threw her arms around Aaron. They kissed quickly as they bent down to pick up their suitcases and make it to the airport.



“It took about an hour for you to get those hundred foul shots, but the last fifteen came pretty quickly. You feel good about it?” Stan asked Jon.
“The last fifteen? Sure. Other than that, my arms feel like Jell-O.”
“That’s going to happen. Now, guess what we get to do? We get to make your legs feel like Jell-O. There is no basketball if you’re not moving up and down the court.” Stan walked across the court and placed erasers at the foul line, half court, the opposing foul line, and under the opposing basket. “I want you to start from under this basket. Run and grab the closest eraser. Then, run back here and drop it. Then, go get the eraser at half court, come back here and drop it. Then, go to the opposing foul line, pick up the eraser and come back here and drop it off. Then, when you get the last one from under the other basket, just come running back here as hard and as fast as you can and then we’ll see how well you do.”
Jon took a deep breath and shook his head.
“Jon, are you okay?”
“I’m okay, I’m just almost beat and I still have a little over an hour until we go to the school team. I’m going to be wasted by then.”
Stan shook his head. “You can’t be. There is no choice but for you to keep going. You can’t let yourself drop, Jon. Now, are we ready?”
Jon took another deep breath and resigned himself to the run. “Let’s do it.”
Greg held a stopwatch and put up his arm. “Ready!” he yelled.
Jon crouched.
“Set!”
Jon’s upper leg and upper arm muscles were twitching, just ready for the word.
“Go!” Greg brought his hand down and started the watch.
Jon ran sprinting to the first eraser. It took him a moment to stop, bend, and pick up the eraser. As he was coming back, Stan clapped his hands and encouraged him.
“Not bad, not bad! Run lower to the ground, slightly crouched and get ready to pick up the eraser before you get there!” The first of the erasers flew into the wall behind him as Jon turned and went for the second.
To Stan, it almost looked like Jon was running like a speed walk. He was still straight up and down, but his legs were moving him very fast along the court just by extending and retracting from the knees down. Jon still paused slightly as he bent to retrieve the second prize, but it was faster than the first time. He was coming back toward Stan and Greg in the same awkward gait.
“Keep it coming, Jon! Keep it coming!” Stan kept the encouragement up. “But, you need to actually move your legs, not just from below the knees! To crouch, just run in a forward stance!” The second eraser flew by Stan as Jon turned for his third one. “Just crouch in a forward position, You can grab the eraser a lot better that way!”
Jon changed up his running style again and this time looked like he was off balance most of the way as he was lunging forward ready to grab the opposing foul line eraser by the time he had barely reached the first foul line. Jon’s shoes were slapping against the court in a very unhealthy sounding running style. He did grab the third eraser without much trouble and still cut down his time turning around, but Stan could tell his friend was starting to get extremely tired.
“Nice turnaround time, buddy! Way to go! Now, as you turn around this time, just run as hard and as fast as you can, whatever style is easiest for you. When you get just past the other foul line, start bending down. Don’t try to stop, pick it up, and turn around, just run in a-“ the eraser came flying by again, and Stan started raising his voice as Jon got further and further away, “figure eight type of a pattern and never plan on even stopping and then get your ass back here as fast as you can!”
Jon picked up the last eraser in a smooth figure eight style turn and ran his guts out as hard as he could. He almost looked like he was emulating the slow motion shots of races in films. His head was back, eyes closed and he was purely concentrating on speed. He opened his eyes just as he passed the top of the key, continued running and slowed down only after he had passed the line. He was still slowing down as he came to the wall of the gym, so he put his arms out in front of him and he stopped just shy of scraping his nose against the wall.
Stan walked over to Greg who had stopped the watch as soon as Jon crossed the line.
“Well, Greg, how did our boy look?”
Greg studied the readout for a moment before giving his reply. “Asleep.”



“What are you doing here?” Walter asked Kate as she strode into his office. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Jon?”
“He’s fine,” Kate replied. “He’s with Stan and Greg. Stan is coaching him on the basketball essentials. He’ll do better with them alone than with me as a distraction.”
Walter had his reading glasses on and he looked above his rims at Kate. “And just how much of a distraction have you been?”
Kate closed her eyes realizing that she had better choose her words a little more carefully. “Not what I meant. Stan and Greg have been his friends for a very long time. They would probably be able to get more out of him from a practice than I could.”
Walter picked up a file that was on his desk. “I’m not sure about that, but, you’re his trainer. If that’s what you feel is best.”
“I’ll admit, Bender. I’m not sure what is best. I’m glad we’ve let his friends in on it, but letting him just go in and not letting him know-“
“It’s okay, Kate. He will be contacted and he will know that he is the primary Agent. Help is there, but more for fact gathering. It will be made clear.”
“Isn’t he going to feel used? We’ve put him in when there was already someone there and we didn’t tell him?”
“Moss was never meant as a main Agent. He was just supposed to watch over Mills until we could make contact with him. We never expected that the basketball team would be a place we’d need another Agent. “
“We can’t let him know that we’d been watching him that closely for that long.”
“We won’t. All we do is tell Jon that Moss was just a low level Agent who was never supposed to do anything more than watch and gather information and relay it back to us. He doesn’t need to know any more than that.”
“Jon has a temper, Walter. If he finds out and blames it on us for not telling him-“
“He won’t. And if he does, you talk him down. You’ve done it before. He’s just a normal teenager.”
“Bender, I know he seems like an obnoxious teenager sometimes, but I like him. I think he has a good heart.”
“I like him too, Kate. But you have said it yourself; he can be a cocky son of a bitch. How many times have you told me that in the past few days?”
Kate smiled. She knew she had been caught again.
“There’s no doubt that he will make an excellent agent, but we have been pushing him. If we give him an out, he’ll take it.”
Kate nodded. “Okay, you’re the boss.”
Walter went back to reading the report, but Kate still stood in his office. Walter glanced over his rims again at her and smiled. “Yes, Ms. Thompson?”
Kate took a seat in front of her boss’ desk. ‘I’m worried about something that I hadn’t thought of last night.”
Walter set down the file again and took off his glasses.
“We now have a small group that know about us who are not Agents. His two best friends know. Now, tonight, this girl that he’s had a crush on forever is going out with him on a first date.”
“Aaah, yes, the infamous Aleisha Madsen!”
“So, since his best friends know, what is going to keep him from telling her?”
Walter smiled another large, warm smile. “It’s young love, Kate. Don’t you remember that? He doesn’t want to make himself look any stranger than he possibly can. He won’t want her to run away from him. His stomach will be all butterflies tonight and he is going to try to stay talking about safe subjects as long as he can. He’s not going to take the chance of frightening her away.”
“Are you sure?”
“I was just like him forty years ago. Boys don’t change that much. Not even in today’s world. As they say, boys will be boys.”
“I just hope you’re right, Bender.”
Bender put his glasses back on and picked up the file one more time. “When have I ever been wrong?”


“We only have another half an hour, Jon.”
“Can’t I even get a five minute break?”
“You’ll have about a forty five minute break, but you have another thirty minutes to go. Come on!”
Jon closed his eyes and stood up straight. He tilted his neck back and forth. Several very loud pops came from his neck. He then put his fists behind his back and used them to brace him as he bent back. Even more loud cracks emanated from deep within his back. He opened his eyes.
“Okay, what’s next?”
“Now that we’ve worked on dribbling, shooting and running and putting them all together, you have the basics of offense. Now, it’s time for defense. We play man to man defense. That means that you are assigned a certain player and your job, when the other team has the ball, is to not allow your guy to get the ball at all or to not have a shot.”
“I understand that part of it.”
“Good. So, how do you do that?”
“Beats the hell out of me.”
“Well, here we go, then. Greg is going to pass me the ball from the other side of the court. You are going to be defense against me. I am going to try to get past you and make a basket. You try to stop me and we’ll go from there. Okay?”
“Got it,” Jon sighed, preparing himself for the next thirty minutes.
“Greg!” Stan called. “Go!”
The ball came rocketing to Stan from the other end of the court. Stan immediately started dribbling and backed his way down the court. He could feel Jon right behind him, but he could tell that his friend was more or less just standing there, backing up with him.
Stan stood straight up, spun, and shot. The ball whooshed through the hoop.
“You have to at least put your arms up, Jon.”
“If I could feel them, I would.”
“Let’s do it again, Jon. This time, your hands have to at least be up in the air. If I stand up and have a straight shot at the basket, then I will take it. If the basket is not perfectly in my sight, I’m going to look at the other players more than I will try to get out of the position I’m in for the shot. Got it?”
“I can pretend,” the weary Mills acknowledged.
“Well, then. Pretend. Here we go! Greg!”
Another ball came down the court. Stan backed up, just as he had previously. He could see the extra height behind him in the shadows on the court.
“Good job! Now, I’m going to make a move. Stay with me and don’t let me get a shot off.”
“Okay!”
Stan spun and moved to his right. Mills stayed on him and followed him move for move. Stan took the ball to the extreme corner of the court and set up for a three point shot. Jon saw what was coming and shoved Stan in the chest as hard as he could. The ball went straight up into the air while Stan landed with a loud thud on the floor.
“That’s not quite legal in the game, Jon. We’ll need to work on your defending skills,” Stan told Jon as he stood up and brushed himself off.


“Thanks for getting here for the twelve o’clock rundown just a little early, everybody. I just wanted to make sure that you knew everything that I knew about Saturday before we get talking about tonight’s show.” Jennifer Whittaker was addressing her staff at SportsTime.
“Before we get going, can I just make one thing abundantly clear?” Dan McCall, one half of the anchor team spoke up.
“Dan, please. Not today.”
“It is of vital importance to the show, Jen. You have my word.”
“What is it?” Jennifer resigned herself.
“No matter what Casey says, we are not concerned at all about Ultimate Fighting Championships, and I refuse to ever do a segment on it.”
Jennifer buried her head in her hands.
“It’s an even better sport than boxing, Dan,” Casey, his co-anchor, defended himself. “No ref, no rules, just the better, tougher man wins. Isn’t that what we always hope to see in sports? Isn’t that why we get so upset over the calls that referees make in the last few minutes of a game? We don’t want the game to be decided by penalty shots or anything like it, we just want the best team to win.”
“Dan, Casey, I’m sure this can wait until a meeting when I don’t happen to be here, can’t it?” Jennifer interjected. “Fine good. Now, here’s what’s happening. Dana and Aaron barely made their flight to Salt Lake. Once there, they are going to spend some time interviewing every member of both teams. Tomorrow will be a piece about Cottonwood’s players, mainly centered on Junior, of course. Friday night will be about the Warrior’s players. Saturday, we get on the air an hour before the game, which starts at seven o’clock MST. So, we will start our coverage at eight o’clock, local, with the game starting at nine.
“The two pieces from Thursday and Friday will run, and then Dana will be live with both coaches before the game, she will be in the locker rooms, and out in the stands. Our play-by-play is going to be handled by Phil and Michael, and they’ll cut to Dana once every section with crowd reactions and such.
“I just want everybody here to know that I am behind Dana one hundred percent. She has been our associate producer since the very first night we went on the air almost five and a half years ago. This is her big shot. Aaron will be feeding her information all night long and he won’t let her fail. But, we need to make sure that we are on top of our game here at the studio to make sure that she won’t have to deal with any of our mistakes and fill in for us. We all must be on the same page. Is everybody with me?”
There was a resoundingly loud yes from everyone at the meeting.
“Good. Now, since it’s actually time for our meeting to start, we have Bobbi in Vancouver tonight….”



Kate didn’t see Jon as she walked into the gym, but Greg and Stan were chatting, each holding a basketball.
“Hey, guys! What’s up?”
Stan met Kate at half-court. “He did well. Like we were planning, not a superstar, but he should at least be able to be out on the court and not embarrass himself.”
“Good to hear. Will Coach Malone beat the shit out of him?”
“Probably, but Jon can shovel it right back. As you know, he’s not afraid of authoritative figures.”
“I’ve noticed,” Kate grinned. “So where is our boy?’
“In the showers. We let him off five minutes early so that he can massage those muscles a bit before going to the school practice.”
“Well, thanks again, Stan. I’m sure he’ll do well today.”
“Me too. Thank you, too, Kate, for letting us in.”
“It was almost a necessity, but you’re welcome. And I do apologize for taking you down yesterday.”
Stan put up his hands. “I totally deserved it. My fault, but apology still accepted.”
Greg motioned to the locker room. “I’ll go check on Jon.”
“That would be great!” Kate hollered across the gym.
From the moment Greg walked into the hallway, he could feel the humidity level rise. The steam got thicker and thicker as he got closer to the shower area. When he arrived, Greg pictured the steam to be almost as thick as the fog in cartoons when they actually cut it with a knife.
“Jon!” Greg called out. “Kate’s here!”
The shower shut off and a towel wrapped Jon emerged from the mist.
“Honestly, Greg, how did I look out there?” Jon asked as he went over to his gym bag, which was lying open on a bench.
“You won’t win MVP of the game Saturday, but you’re not bad.”
“Honestly?”
“Honestly. I also don’t see you generally just walking off the street and onto any team you want, but in a pinch, you’ll be doing fine.”
“Thanks. That sounds suspiciously like you’re shitty, but you’re not as shitty as you were three hours ago.”
“I was trying to be optimistic.”
“Well, quit it because you suck at it.”