Stolen Secrets (5 page)

Chapter 14

I wrote my story
during lunch the next day—at least I tried to write it. Words don’t come as quickly for me as they do for Ashley. She takes more after Mom, I guess. When I write a story or an essay, choosing words is like picking blackberries. I have to reach in and avoid the thorns, wondering if there’s a snake back there somewhere, and when I’m sure it’s okay, I write one down.

I named my character Chet Becker, because I’d known a kid with that name in Illinois, and I had him sink every shot he took. By the end of the story, Chet had scored 70 points and had 20 steals.

What had really happened to me wasn’t that spectacular. It was actually awful. You should know that I’m not a great athlete. I’m kind of dorky looking, with long arms and gangly legs, but Sam told me about this guy named Larry Bird who used to play for the Boston Celtics. Sam said Bird looked like somebody taken right off the farm, but when they put a basketball in his hands he knew what to do. That’s how I wanted to play.

Anyway, our team had fought Coronado the whole game, trying to keep them from getting the ball to their big man, #23. We were down only a point with 17 seconds left when #23 clunked one off the rim and I got the rebound. I threw the ball to Duncan Swift, and he brought it across half-court and called a time-out. Now we had 13 seconds.

Coach Baldwin called a play and told me to throw the ball inbounds. Everybody on the court and in the stands knew Duncan was going to take the shot, because he’s our best player. It was my job to throw it to him and get in position in case Coronado double- or triple-teamed him.

After the buzzer sounded, the ref handed me the ball and started his five count. Duncan gave a head fake and darted into the backcourt, and I tossed him the ball. But he didn’t turn when I expected, and the ball bounced off his shoulder and into the hands of a Coronado player. It took six seconds for me to catch the guy and foul him. He sank both shots, and there was only enough time for a desperation heave at the end, which Duncan almost made.

The coach tried to make us feel better in the locker room, but I could hardly breathe. Everybody patted me on the back and said I had a good game, but I knew I’d blown it. I couldn’t wait until the next time we’d meet, coming up Saturday.

Chapter 15

“Look who’s here,”
Marion said as Cammy and Tracy walked into the lunchroom. Immediately a group of girls gathered. Marion jumped up and glanced back at me. “Aren’t you coming?”

It was like a rock concert. The only thing missing was the fainting. I could hear the girls talking several tables away.

“We thought you were dead.”

“Where were you?”

“How did it happen?”

“Were you scared?”

“How’d you get away?”

Mr. Forster came through and shooed everyone away, but as soon as he was gone, the noise returned with whispers, then got louder and louder.

A few minutes later Marion returned.

“Attacked by aliens?” I said.

“No, they said it was the guy who sits outside the Toot Toot. The weird one with the army jacket and stringy hair.”

I knew him. He sat in a rocking chair on the wooden sidewalk and slept or read. Once I saw him scribbling on paper as I walked by. He smelled like a wet animal—I guess because he slept outside—and I was surprised someone didn’t ask him to move.

“What did he do?”

Marion scooted closer. “Cammy said he grabbed them both by the wrists when they were headed home. He pulled them behind the row of shops next to the Toot Toot and into an old shed back there. He put duct tape on their hands and feet.”

“Why would he do that?”

Marion shrugged. “They said he was mumbling at them, real angry. Then he left, and they got away before he came back.”

Cammy and Tracy aren’t my two favorite people on the planet, but I felt sorry for them. That would have given me nightmares forever.

“The police have given the guy’s picture to the media,” Marion said. “I guess he was arrested before.”

Cammy and Tracy had a new group of kids around them and seemed to be telling their story again and again.

Chapter 16

“Very good, Bryce,”
Mrs. Ferguson said after I read my story. I don’t like writing as much as Ashley does, but I love getting up in front of the class.

Ashton was next. He wrote about his pet ferret Freddy, which in real life had been run over by his older brother. I was there when it happened. Ashton tried to revive the poor thing, but it’s hard to give a ferret CPR. We buried him in Ashton’s backyard and put a cross over the little grave with an inscription, “Here lies Freddy, a faithful ferret.” Ashton said it was good alliteration.

In his story, the ferret grew up to become president of “Ferretica” and was interviewed by Larry King. Everybody laughed at the wild things Freddy did, but I could tell Ashton still missed the animal.

“Very nice fantasy, Ashton,” Mrs. Ferguson said. “It fits with what I asked you to do.”

“Fantasy?” Ashton said.

“Well, let’s face it—it pushes the boundaries of believability.”

Ashton trudged back to his seat. “It could happen.”

Next up was Jeff Alexander. Adults call him “inspiring” because he’s fighting cancer, but I just call him my friend. Last year he looked like any other kid in sixth grade. Now he has only a little hair, has to have someone help him carry his books to class, and is a lot thinner. A couple of years ago his doctors found some kind of tumor, and he went through chemotherapy and surgeries and stuff.

But all these things just make it more fun to hear him talk, because he has a great sense of humor. His diary is published every month in the school newspaper. He talks about what it’s like to have cancer, but somehow every one of his columns makes you laugh.

His story was titled “The Day I Found My Hair.” Instead of going through chemotherapy and losing his hair, his story was about a day he had chemo and grew more hair than he could handle.

By the end of the story, he had grown so much hair that he had to shave his body every day, and he used the extra to power all of Colorado for one year. “I not only became a handsome spokesman for the Hair-Energy Commission, but I also provided the electricity for everyone’s hair dryers!”

I slapped Jeff a high five as he sat down next to me and I was laughing so hard that I didn’t realize Ashley was at the front of the class.

Chapter 17

Sweat trickled down my arm
as I looked out over the other kids’ faces. They were still giggling at Jeff’s story.

Bryce may not get nervous in front of the class, but I sure do. I don’t know why. It was just a stupid story. I tried to act calm, which only made my paper shake. I hate when that happens.

Everybody laughed when I did dumb things that held Dad up in my story. Mrs. Ferguson seemed perplexed. Every other story had shown kids (and ferrets) doing superhuman things—winning skateboard competitions, catching gigantic fish, and playing professional sports. My story was the only one where a kid actually messed up.

When I got to the end and my dad hugged me, some kids gasped. Everyone knew what had really happened to him. Mrs. Ferguson just stared at her desk while I returned to my seat.

Bryce smiled.