Training Camp

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Training Camp Page 46

by Kobe Bryant

Peño hadn’t woken him up that morning, and he’d just barely gotten up in time for practice. He hadn’t even had a minute to brush his teeth. He felt like he had cotton balls crammed in there that smelled conspicuously like last night’s spaghetti. Peño hadn’t prepacked Lab’s bag either, so he had no water bottles, no towel, and no granola bar. His duffel smelled like Fairwood on a particularly hot day. Peño was walking ahead of him, and he stormed inside, letting the doors slam in Lab’s face. So immature, Lab thought sourly.

  He walked in after his brother and froze. Peño wasn’t there. No one was. The gym was completely empty apart from, well, a castle.

  “What is basketball to you, Lab?” a familiar voice asked.

  He jumped about a foot in the air and whirled around to find Rolabi leaning against the wall. Lab scowled. He was tired and miserable, and he knew Rolabi was the cause of all of it.

  “What did you say?” Lab muttered. “And where is my brother?”

  “What is basketball to you?”

  Lab rubbed his eyes. “Can we stop with these stupid questions?”

  “Only if you quit.”

  Lab glared at him. “What was the question?”

  “Why do you play the game?”

  “I don’t know,” Lab said, shifting uncomfortably. “I like it.”

  “Why?”

  Lab felt his temperature rising. “I just do. What do you want from me?”

  “Truth.”

  Lab tried to think. Why did he play basketball? Did he even know? It wasn’t just because Peño did it. He would have played whether Peño came or not. And it wasn’t even because he thought it was his ticket out of the Bottom. He knew in his heart that the odds were never great.

  “I play because . . . because I feel better out there.”

  Rolabi nodded. “What does it make you feel like?”

  “Free,” Lab whispered, looking out at the court. “Or lighter maybe. I don’t know.”

  Even Lab wasn’t exactly sure what he meant, but Rolabi seemed to understand.

  “A place where we can leave our darkness at the door,” Rolabi said softly.

  “It was important . . . after.”

  “I imagine so. And it remains. But why leave our darkness at the door? It will simply be waiting for us when we are finished. Why not destroy the darkness and come and go in peace?”

  Lab turned away. “Where’s my brother?”

  “It looks like he is getting his shoes on.”

  Lab spotted Peño sitting on the bench, along with Reggie and Twig. They hadn’t been there a moment ago.

  “Sometimes you just have to live with the darkness,” Lab said quietly.

  “Only if you choose that fate.”

  Lab shook his head and went to join the others. Peño looked up, clearly wanting to ask him something, but then seemed to remember they were fighting and turned away. Lab put his shoes on in silence, wondering at his own answer. Did he really feel lighter playing ball? He’d never thought about it that way before. But it was true: He needed to move. Run. He needed the freedom of a simple goal. He needed to be a member of a team and not just broken Javi Juarez.

  When everyone had arrived, they gathered in front of the fortress.

  “Today we are working on team defense,” Rolabi said.

  He tipped his bag upside down, and a mound of red and blue equipment spilled onto the hardwood: a jumble of helmets and pads.

  “Take one of each, please,” Rolabi said, gesturing to the equipment.

  Lab waited until Peño had picked a blue helmet and then grabbed a red one. He wasn’t sure what the drill was, but he felt like it might be a good chance to clobber his brother. He scooped up a matching pad and examined his team approvingly. They had a definite advantage. He had Reggie and Vin, plus two heavy hitters in A-Wall and the abnormally muscular Devon.

  “The game is simple. One team will attack, and the other will defend. The team to get the trophy in the least amount of time wins. The losing team will run laps while the winners shoot around.”

  Lab looked up at the castle. “So we just push each other with these pads? Won’t the strongest team win no matter what?”

  “A fine question,” Rolabi said. “You have two minutes to plan.”

  Lab joined the rest of the red team in a huddle by the benches, then glanced back at the fortress, eager to get started. This was already his favorite drill, and they hadn’t started yet. Peño’s favorite books were always about animals, but Lab loved the fantasy and adventure stories. Knights, battles, heroes . . . he read those ones again and again, or used to. She used to read them to him mostly, and it was hard to go back to the stories. Still, he had some tucked beneath his bed—the only place in the house he had some private storage. Beyond the books, he had only three other things under there: a photo, a mostly empty bottle of perfume, and a shoelace.

  He stared at the castle, only half listening to the plan. Did Peño even remember that day? It didn’t matter. This fight was his fault. He had come after Lab; he had called him whiny.

  “We’ll push through and get to the trophy with Devon at the lead,” Reggie finished.

  “Gonna smash my bro,” Lab said excitedly.

  He put his hand in first for a cheer—which was not like him. “Red on three. One, two, three . . . Red!”

  The team threw their hands up and shouted with him.

  “Begin!” Rolabi said.

  His voice triggered something beneath their feet, and a tremor moved through the gym. Lab watched in amazement as the floors around the castle caved into a trench. Water came flooding in from all sides until a moat rose against the base of the castle. Narrow planks appeared over the water, leading to each ramp. The castle itself changed from smooth rubber to stone, while flags fluttered from the parapets.

  Lab looked down and realized he was even dressed like an actual knight in polished silver armor with red trim, while his pad was a thick, heavy leather with a Badgers crest on it.

  For the moment, everything was forgotten. He broke into a wild grin.

  “Charge!” he shouted, pumping his fist like a medieval commander.

  Lab considered going after his brother, but Vin had already targeted Peño, so Lab rounded the fortress and saw Twig guarding a ramp by himself, shifting nervously. The perfect target. Lab slammed into him, and their leather pads collided with a breathless thud.

  Lab hadn’t even noticed that Reggie was following him, but he soon felt another pad driving into his back, adding to their momentum. Twig gulped as he started to slide up the ramp.

  “He’s finished,” Reggie grunted.

  “Surrender the keep!” Lab said.

  But just when they were about to push through into the open level beyond the ramp, Rain rushed to help Twig, using the higher ground to push them down again. Lab gritted his teeth.

  They were losing!

  “See you later,” Reggie said, and then he took off for another ramp.

  “Keep pushing, Twig!” Rain shouted as he disappeared back into the castle.

  Lab used Twig’s distraction to surge forward again. “Give up, Twig!”

  “You give up!” Twig retorted.

  “You can’t hold me, Stick Man.”

  Twig cringed, just visible over the pad. “I’m doing . . . fine . . .”

  “You sound tired,” Lab pointed out, though his own legs were ablaze.

  “Nope . . .” Twig managed.

  Lab knew by now that he wasn’t going to be able to get through—Twig was doing just enough to hold his ground. But it didn’t matter—there were other spots to attack. Lab broke off and retreated across the bridge. He spotted Devon driving Jerome up his own ramp and A-Wall running to back him up. Lab grinned. The blue team was finished.

  He joined the attack and drove his pad into Devon’s back. Jerome went airborn
e. Devon, Lab, and A-Wall sprinted into the castle. Rain appeared in front of them and slumped.

  “Help!” Rain called.

  The three boys charged, and Rain soon met the same fate as Jerome. Lab and the others ran up the final ramp, where Devon scooped up the granite trophy with one hand and hoisted it triumphantly. The gold accents glittered in the light.

  “Red team!” Lab shouted.

  He was pleased to see Peño looking up at them from well below, scowling.

  “One minute and forty-seven seconds,” Rolabi said. “Blue team, you will now attack. You have two minutes to prepare.”

  As the blue team went to form an attack plan, Lab’s team gathered into another huddle. Lab looked up at the tower. How could they prevent the same thing from happening to them?

  “We need a plan,” he said.

  Vin nodded. “It’s tough on D. Lab, you and Reggie—”

  “No,” Reggie said suddenly, laughing.

  “What’s funny?” Vin said.

  “It’s actually pretty simple,” Reggie replied. “The other ramps are just distractions.”

  Lab frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “All we have to do is protect the trophy,” Reggie said. “So we only need to block the last ramp.”

  “Of course,” Lab said, whistling. He looked at the trophy. Reggie was right—the only way to get to the trophy was up the final ramp. If they just protected that one, and held the attackers there, then the blue team couldn’t reach it. They assembled into a reinforced line on the ramp, and Lab found himself standing right behind Devon, who was guarding the entrance like a grim sentry. Lab could practically feel his blood pumping as he waited for the attack. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so energized. It had been so long ago, but the memories were still there. Good ones. Excitement for holidays. For weekends when his mom and dad used to get a day off. They would play cards and cook big dinners, and his dad would even sit down for a few hours to watch television with them.

  It struck him how long it had been since he had felt excited, and the thought disturbed him.

  “Begin!” Rolabi said.

  Lab heard shouts and pounding footsteps on the ramps and focused on the present. He set his legs and waited as the blue team stampeded up the fortress, Rain at the lead. They rounded the corner at a sprint, then slid to an abrupt halt. Realization dawned on their faces.

  “Push!” Rain screamed.

  The blue team charged, but they had no chance fighting uphill—particularly against Devon. Lab leaned into his back, feet wide, arms tensed and locked. The two teams pushed against each other for a solid minute at least, everyone straining and grunting and shouting:

  “You’re going down!”

  “Come on—push!”

  “It’s not working!”

  Finally, the pressure eased, and Lab felt relief flood his body as his muscles relaxed. The attackers were getting tired. Devon obviously sensed it too. Without warning, he drove forward and pushed with all his strength, and the blue team spilled down the ramp into a heap.

  “The time is beat,” Rolabi said. “The red team wins.”

  The red team cheered again. Lab tried to pick up the trophy with one hand, found it way too heavy, and dropped his pad to lift it with both. He shook it over his head, cheering and laughing, and then noticed Peño looking up at him. His brother almost seemed near tears.

  Lab lowered the trophy, suddenly feeling guilty, and passed it off to Reggie. Peño had already started for the benches, shuffling and slouched. Lab had never seen him look so depressed.

  “The red team may grab some balls and shoot around,” Rolabi said. “Blue team, laps.”

  The victorious red team exited the fortress, casting their helmets and pads aside. Lab tried to catch his brother’s eye, but Peño refused to look at him. His own temper came back. So now Peño got to be upset? Lab thought that wasn’t allowed. And what was his sadness for—a loss at a drill? So that was okay, but not actual grief?

  Lab stewed on that as he shot around, watching with satisfaction as Peño and the blue team jogged lap after lap, running for almost an hour before someone finally hit a free throw.

  Finally, both teams gathered at the bench for a drink. Lab didn’t have one today, of course, so he just watched thirstily. Lab glanced down at Peño, who had his eyes on his shoes. Despite himself, Lab couldn’t help but wonder why he was so upset. Why was he taking the loss so personally? It wasn’t even a real basketball game. Peño still looked near tears.

  Rolabi walked over to the castle and plucked a black cap from the side. The whole structure softened, then folded in on itself like an old grape. Lab wasn’t even surprised anymore.

  “What must a defender always be?” Rolabi asked.

  “Ready,” Reggie replied.

  “The same goes for the entire team. If you are not ready, we are wasting our time.”

  He started for the doors. At some point he must have put the discarded helmets and pads back in his medicine bag, though Lab hadn’t seen him do it. He wondered if Rolabi truly went back to the Kingdom of Granity every night.

  “Are we done for today?” Peño called.

  “That is up to you,” Rolabi replied.

  The doors slammed shut behind him, and the orb simultaneously appeared in the middle of the court. Once again, Lab felt goose bumps trail up his arms.

  A hush fell over the gym. No one moved.

  “What do we do?” Peño asked quietly.

  “Rolabi said we had to catch it,” A-Wall pointed out. “He said we would be better basketball players if we did, remember?”

  That was enough for Twig, apparently. He took off after it, and the rest followed—Lab last of all. Once again, he was torn between his fear of the orb and his inexplicable desire to catch it. His desire won out. And again, it was useless. The orb was simply too fast. It was like chasing a shadow with a flashlight. Lab and Peño even collided at one point, which resulted in a bruised tailbone and more glaring. Finally, the orb flew into a wall and vanished, and Lab sighed.

  They would never catch that thing.

  “Still up for that scrimmage?” Peño asked.

  “Nah,” Rain said, obviously annoyed. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  Everyone headed for the bench, and Lab took a seat, exhausted. But soon an argument formed—Rain and Reggie, which was a surprise. Rain clearly hadn’t enjoyed the drill.

  “It was a stupid game,” Rain snapped. “You play D by stopping the ball. And you win by scoring.” He climbed to his feet, shaking, he was so enraged. “By me scoring. And we aren’t getting any closer to winning by me not working on my shot. This is a big year for me.”

  “You mean for us,” Lab said.

  Rain headed for the doors. “Yeah . . . Rain Adams and the West Bottom Badgers.”

  He let the doors slam behind him. Lab shook his head. Rain was so arrogant. It was always his team, his offense. Lab could score just as much if he got the opportunity. But the thought soon evaporated as he saw Peño walk out in silence. Lab’s temper flared.

  Lab finished changing his shirt and hurried after him.

  “What do you want?” Peño snarled.

  “Why are you so upset? I thought that wasn’t allowed?” His voice almost cracked without warning. He felt a ball forming in his throat and was near tears. His big brother was supposed to understand him.

  “This is different,” Peño said. “You’ve been sad for three years.”

  Three years. Impossible but true.

  “And why do you think that is, genius?”

  “I lost her too. She was my mom too.”

  Lab clenched his fists. Why did Peño have to say that? His brother knew how much that word pained him. He was trying to hurt him now, to dig deep, to stab and twist. Tears stung Lab’s eyes—tears of ang
er, guilt, betrayal.

  He went for a deep cut himself.

  “You moved on,” Lab said coldly. “You cared more about basketball—”

  He wasn’t ready. Peño drove his hands into Lab’s chest, and Lab barely stayed up, fighting for balance, and then reached for Peño and tackled him back. The brothers fell together and hit the pavement hard, Peño cushioning most of the blow. Lab felt the air rush out of Peño as he squeezed Peño’s torso. But Peño was strong, and in seconds they were rolling. Lab smelled rot, and something jabbed him in the back, but he didn’t care. He fought madly, trying to punch and kick his way free. Peño wrapped him up, locking an arm around his throat.

  “Let go!” Lab shouted.

  He threw himself out of Peño’s grip and into another roll, but Peño was faster. He grabbed Lab again and pinned him down. Lab twisted violently, but Peño had his hands, and all Lab could do was writhe and struggle.

  “I miss her every second of the day,” Peño said. “You’re blind if you don’t see that.”

  “Get off me!”

  “Did you ever think I don’t show it because of you?” Peño screamed. That question struck Lab into stillness; Peño rarely screamed, rarely broke his composure. “That maybe I don’t want to remind you or Dad? Did that cross your thick, stupid skull? And maybe I do all the chores to make it easier for you too? Did you think about that?”

  Lab stared at him, motionless, stunned.

  “Sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe,” Peño whispered. “Like I’m gonna die. But you didn’t notice that either, did you? At least you get to have hope. I don’t even get that.”

  Lab frowned. “What are you talking about—”

  “You get a shot! I don’t. I get to be strong and watch everyone else go on without me.”

  Peño climbed to his feet, leaving Lab to stare up at him. What was he talking about? A shot at ball? What did that have to do with anything? And why couldn’t he breathe? From grief? Anxiety? None of it made any sense. Peño was strong. Everything just rolled off him, always had. But Lab could see him quivering and the tears spilling out. He was telling the truth.

  “I should teach you a lesson,” Peño said quietly. “But I won’t . . . because of her.”

 

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