Wheel Wizards Read online

  A ref's whistle stopped play.

  “That's a charge,” Lou guessed.

  But Seth shook his head. “I think Con was still moving. It's on him.”

  Sure enough, the ref pointed to Con. “That's blocking on black, number eight.”

  Con winced but said nothing, and the Rebels in-bounded the ball.

  As the game went on, Seth found himself getting more and more involved, cheering whenever the other Wizard rooters cheered, exchanging high fives with Lou when his team (as he now thought of them) scored or made a good defensive play. He was fascinated by the way in which the players set picks, screened off, went from man-to-man defense to zones, and, in general, played the same kind of basketball he knew and loved.

  At halftime, Lou asked, “You bored?”

  “Bored?” Seth laughed. “Are you kidding? This is great.” He thought for a moment. “Uh, I guess I was wrong about this game, wasn't I?”

  Lou smiled. “I guess so. How about finding out how you can start playing yourself?”

  “Absolutely!” Seth felt more excited, more alive, than he had in a long time. “Right after the game, I'm going to talk to Danny and those guys about what I should do.”

  During the second half, the lead moved back and forth, never going above four points. Both coaches substituted freely, and every player got in some time. Danny scored two baskets, but his main role was setting up plays and passing. Gary seemed to be the fastest of the Wizards, while Con played stubborn defense and forced some turnovers. The Wizards finally went ahead to stay and won the game, 39–36.

  After members of the teams had shaken hands and fans were talking to the players, Danny and Gary came up to Seth and Lou, who congratulated them.

  Seth was so excited, he couldn't find words. “This was … You guys are… “

  Danny and Gary grinned at each other. “Guess you liked it, huh?” Danny said.

  “Liked it?” Seth wheeled closer to the two Wizards. “I want to play! Is there any way I could get on your team?”

  Danny raised his hands. “Whoa! Take it easy. There's no way you're ready yet.”

  “But —”

  “First of all, you're not old enough to play on a team like this,” said Gary “And you're not in shape.”

  Seth felt terrible, and it showed in his face. Danny noticed.

  “Don't get us wrong. You can play this game, someday. But you're going to have to get yourself ready. You need to train for it. Don't think it'll be easy, either. It's a tough road. But you can do it, if you want to.”

  Gary nodded agreement. “Like I said before, it's, all in the attitude. Set yourself a goal, get your head in the right place, and it'll happen.” He glanced at Danny. “We'd better get to the locker room.”

  Danny shook hands with Seth and Lou. “Listen,” he said, “I'll be in touch.”

  Seth watched them go, feeling let down. Lou looked curiously at his friend. “What's the matter? I thought you'd be pumped about tonight.”

  “I was,” Seth said, “until they blew me off like they did.”

  “Oh, come on! They didn't do that at all! They just said you have to get ready. And you can. If it's worth it to you.”

  “Are you kidding? Sure it's worth it!”

  Lou smiled. “Then do it! You're the man!”

  5

  Brian Murtaugh leaned back in his chair and studied Seth. ‘Well, how's it going?”

  “Pretty good, I guess,” Seth replied. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Why?” Brian smiled. “I just asked you how it's going and you said, ‘Pretty good.’”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So, that's the first time since you started coming here that you've had anything positive to say. You took me by surprise.”

  “Really?” It was Seth's turn to be surprised. “The first time?”

  Brian nodded. “I think I'll mark it in red on my calendar. So, naturally, I want to know how come you feel pretty good.”

  Seth thought for a moment. “I don't know. I just … feel better today, that's all.”

  “Uh-huh.” Brian ran a hand through his hair. “You just woke up this morning and decided you felt better? That's it?”

  “Well,” Seth said, grinning, “there was something else.”

  Brian snapped his fingers. “A-hahl I had a hunch there was something else. What was the something else?”

  “I went to this wheelchair-basketball game, and it was really neat. And I met these guys who play wheelchair basketball.”

  “Tell me more,” urged the therapist.

  Seth told Brian about Danny Detweiler, Gary Vitaglio, and Con Addams. He described the game between the Wheel Wizards and the Rollin’ Rebels, how impressive the players had been, how he had enjoyed the game.

  “I've seen some games,” Brian said. “You're right about how good those athletes are. You ought to take a look at the people who compete in marathon races in wheelchairs — men and women, both. They're amazing, too.”

  “Yeah, that guy Con says he's going to do marathons someday, and play college hoops, and compete in these Olympics for disabled people…”

  “The Paralympics,” offered Brian.

  “Yeah, that's it,” Seth nodded eagerly. “Anyway, I guess seeing those guys and what they can do made me feel pretty good, too.”

  “That's understandable,” Brian agreed. “So, now, do you want to get involved in wheelchair athletics, yourself?”

  Seth's grin faded and he slumped a little in his chair. “After the game, I asked Danny and the other guys if I could play, but…”

  He trailed off, staring at the floor.

  “But …? prompted Brian.

  “They said I couldn't”

  Brian frowned. “You couldn't? Meaning what? That you weren't allowed? That they didn't want you to play? Is that what they meant, do you think?”

  Seth said nothing for a long moment, considering Brian's question. “Well, no, that's not what they said. Not actually.”

  Brian's question was soft. “What did they say … actually? You remember?”

  Seth closed his eyes, concentrating. “They said I wasn't old enough, that I wasn't in shape, stuff like that.”

  “Um-hum. But you took that to mean that they didn't want you to play, at least not with them?”

  “Well … yeah.” Seth scowled.

  Brian crossed his legs and sat back. “How old are Danny and the others?”

  “Fifteen, I think.”

  “Fifteen.” Brian shrugged. “If you weren't in that wheelchair and you watched some fifteen-year-old boys playing able-bodied ball, would you walk up and ask if you could play in their league?”

  Seth chewed on his lower lip. “Urn, no, I guess not.”

  Brian went on. “From what you said, these guys are all in fantastic shape, right?”

  Seth nodded. “Yeah, they're totally buffed.”

  “Would you say that you're in that kind of shape right now?” asked Brian.

  Seth felt his face redden, and he looked away from Brian. “Uhn-uhn. No way.” He looked up and met the therapist's eyes. “I think I see what you're saying.”

  “What am I saying?”

  “You're saying that when Danny said I was too young and I'm not in shape, he just meant that I'm too young and not in shape. Not that he didn't want me to play.”

  Brian snapped his fingers. “You know, I think you may have something, there! Maybe they weren't putting you down, but just trying to tell you the truth.”

  Smiling, Seth replied, “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Now that you're on a hot streak, I have another question for you to think about. Ready?”

  “Sure,” Seth replied warily.

  “Okay.” Brian leaned forward again, looking steadily at Seth. “Why do you think you believed that Danny and Gary and Con were putting you down, when they were only trying to explain something to you?”

  “I don't know,” Seth said, without pausing.

  Brian
raised his eyebrows. “You don't know? Really? You sure you don't know?”

  Seth felt himself getting irritated. “How should I know what those guys were thinking? I'm not a mind-reader!”

  Brian waved Seth's words away with a hand. “I'm not asking you to read their minds. I'm asking you to read yours.”

  “That's pretty dumb!” Seth snapped. “What time is it, anyway? Isn't it time for this to be over?”

  “Soon,” Brian answered. “But not just yet. I think we should stay with this a little longer.”

  “Well, I don't.”

  Brian remained cool. “Humph. Getting a little angry, there?”

  Seth clenched his fists. “So what if I am?”

  “So nothing,” Brian said, still cool. “You get angry a lot, don't you?”

  Seth rolled his eyes. “This is getting bo-o-o-ring.”

  “Humor me,” urged Brian. “How did you feel when Danny said you couldn't play on his team?”

  “I felt like he was putting me down! And it wasn't fair!” shouted Seth. “It isn't fair! Nothing's fair!”

  Brian said nothing for a moment. Seth's words hung in the air.

  “You're right, Seth,” he said, at last. “A lot of things aren't fair. Your accident wasn't fair. Neither was what happened to Con or Gary or Danny. People should be fair to each other, but sometimes life isn't. And that can make someone really angry.”

  Seth nodded, feeling a little ashamed of having lost it.

  Brian went on. “And the really awful thing about it is, when life treats you unfairly, what can you do about it? Who can you complain to? Who can you get mad at in return?”

  The boy let out a deep breath. “Nobody,” he whispered.

  The therapist stood up, walked over to Seth, and put a hand on his shoulder. “Nobody who deserves it, anyway. Right. But… ” he walked around to face Seth and squatted down so they were at eye level. “But .… you still get mad. It's natural.

  “So there you are, with all that mad boiling in your stomach, and what are you going to do with it?”

  Seth blinked. He swallowed. “Get mad at somebody else?”

  Brian nodded. “Bingo. Maybe at your friends. Or your family. Or even poor little me.”

  Seth felt suddenly as though a blindfold had been removed from his eyes. Then he shook his head.

  “Okay, so I get mad a lot, and I take it out on other people. But what am I supposed to do? I mean, how am I going to stop?”

  Brian sat back down. “What we hope is that there'll come a time when you don't get mad anymore. And you've just taken a big step in the right direction, by realizing what's been going on in your head for the last several months. Now, we can hope that you can see it coming and start to control that anger, so it doesn't hurt the wrong people.

  “Another big step for you is finding out that you have a future. Setting yourself a goal — like playing wheelchair sports — means that you're likely to focus more on what you're capable of doing, and less on what happened and how rotten a break you got. And, Seth … you can do a lot.”

  Seth suddenly felt tired, but relaxed. “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe. I see. Yeah.”

  “And now,” Brian said as he got to his feet again, “our time really is up.”

  That night, before dinner, Seth thought long and hard about what he and Brian had talked about that day. He thought about Lou, and Phyllis, and his parents, and all they had been trying to say to him. He thought about Danny and Con and the others, too. And he made a decision.

  That night during dinner, Seth asked, “Is it okay if I go to a movie with Lou and some guys on Friday?”

  His father almost dropped his fork, but pretended he hadn't. “Sure,” he replied as nonchalantly as he could.

  “Oh, and one other thing,” Seth added as he cut a bite off his roast beef and tried not to see the hopeful look on his mother's face. “I want to ask my physical therapist about what kind of exercise I should do to train for basketball.”

  “You going to play ball with those guys you watched the other night?” Phyllis asked.

  “Maybe someday, but I'm not ready yet. I have to get in shape first. And, hey, Phyl? Thanks for telling me about that game.”

  “Hey, it wasn't any big deal,” his sister replied.

  Seth smiled at her. “Oh, yeah, it was. Trust me. It was a very big deal.”

  6

  Seth sat in his brand-new wheelchair, feeling a little nervous. His parents had given him the chair on his thirteenth birthday, a week before. It felt strange, compared to his old chair, but it also felt good.

  The old chair sat by the wall of the gym, where Seth and six other boys were about to begin their first workout as a basketball team.

  Lou had been at Seth's house when Mr. and Mrs. Pender had wheeled out Seth's gift, and he had watched Seth sit in it for the first time.

  “Looking good!” he'd exclaimed. “I'll bet you can really move in that baby!”

  Seth looked up at his family, amazed and speechless. He hadn't expected this, because sports chairs, with their superlight frames and custom details, were expensive. He touched the cambered wheels and tried to think of the right words.

  “This is … It's … Thanks! Mom, Dad, it's totally great! But, I never figured we could afford it. I mean a chair like this …”

  “Where there's a will, there's a way,” said his dad. “You really have your sister to thank. She did all the research into chairs.” Seth shot his sister a huge grin. “Your morn and I just signed on the dotted line and hid the box. We wanted to show you how proud we are of you. You should feel proud of yourself”

  “With this new team starting,” Phyllis added, “we figured you needed it now. I mean, you've been working hard this year, so we wanted to do our share.”

  “How does it feel?” Lou had asked as Seth tried moving it around.

  Seth smiled happily. “It's unreal. It doesn't weigh anything at all!”

  Phyl had been right; Seth had been working hard for the past months. With the help of his physical therapist, he'd started a weight-lifting program, learned to swim using just his arms, and found a place to do laps in his chair. Now, Seth felt primed for his first-ever wheelchair-basketball practice. He didn't know any of his teammates-to-be, who all looked to be his age, and who all were in chairs resembling his.

  “Is that new?” asked a boy next to Seth, pointing at Seth's wheelchair. “It looks cool.”

  Seth nodded. “Yeah, I just got it.”

  The other boy said, “I'm Pete Gould.”

  “Seth Pender.”

  “You ever play basketball?” asked Pete.

  Seth shook his head. “Not in a chair, anyway. I've been watching games, though.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Pete flexed his hands nervously. “Those guys are amazing.”

  “Really,” Seth agreed. “I hope we —”

  He stopped abruptly as the gym doors opened and three newcomers entered. All were in wheelchairs. One was a man with light-blond hair in a buzz cut.

  The other two, Seth was happily surprised to see, were Danny Detweiler and Con Addams. Seth hadn't seen much of Danny or Con recently, since neither went to his school, and he grinned at them.

  Danny and Con gave him nods of recognition, but didn't say a word. Seth felt slightly hurt.

  The man clapped his hands sharply. “Form up over here, and let's get started.”

  The boys grouped themselves around him, and the man looked at each one in turn.

  “My name is Wes van Valk, and I'm your coach. These two,” he said, pointing to Danny and Con, “are my assistants. They play in the junior Division. I've been playing this game since I was your age, played in college, and was on an NWBA team —that's National Wheelchair-Basketball Association, by the way.

  “You can expect to work very hard over the next few weeks, before we get to play a game. Figure on feeling some aches and stiffness, especially at first. If that's a problem for you, then this isn't your sport. I don't know what your s
port is, because I believe in the old saying ‘No pain, no gain.’ Understood?'

  Seth and the others nodded that they did, although Pete Gould caught Seth's eye and made a face.

  After the boys had introduced themselves to each other and the coaches, the first practice session began. That whole day, Seth and the other boys never touched a ball. Wes had them working with their chairs, doing what he called “wind sprints,” racing at top speed from baseline to baseline, learning how to bring themselves from high speed to a quick stop, and how to make their chairs pivot sharply. Seth had thought that he was in pretty good condition after having spent almost a year working out, but he found himself puffing and sweating before long.

  After forty-five minutes, Con noticed Pete Gould shaking his hands and wincing.

  “Is there a problem, Pete?” he asked.

  “My hands feel like they're burning up,” the boy answered. “Can't we wear gloves or something?”

  Con shook his head. “No gloves. Give it a little time, your skin will toughen up. You have to develop calluses, that's all.” He held up his own hands and smiled. “Like leather,” he said. “Tough it out.”

  Pete sighed, and Seth, whose hands were bothering him, too, sympathized, but didn't say a word.

  During a break, Pete came over to Seth. “Am I the only one here whose hands are bothering him? Tell me I'm not.”

  Seth laughed. “You're not, believe me. Mine are probably just as bad, and I see other guys looking like they're hurting, too. But, like the coach says —”

  “‘No pain, no gain,’ right, I remember,” Pete said. “I just hope the gain is worth the pain.”

  “Seth, how are you doing?” It was Danny, who had come up to the two boys as they talked.

  “Good,” Seth replied. He had wondered why Danny and Con hadn't been more friendly to him today, but had decided that he shouldn't fall into his old pattern and take it personally. There was probably a reason.

  Danny looked Seth over a moment and gave him a nod of approval. “I can see you've been in training. It really shows in your arms. You feel the difference?”