Bucky Stone: The Complete Adventure (Volumes 1-10)

by David B. Smith

  “Yeah. Hurry!” The pair felt their way along the hallway, now filled with the acrid smoke. “Man, I can’t see.”

  “Right down here. And keep your head down.” Bucky burst through the open door hanging off its hinges. “Kids! Where are you?”

  “I can’t see a thing,” Dan groaned. Bucky had never heard the stocky athlete’s voice in such anguish. Another long, choking pause. “Wait, here you are!” In the corner he’d spotted the older child, a dark - eyed girl who looked like she was about five years old. Still wearing her pajamas, the girl whimpered as he picked her up. “Where’s Mommy?”

  “Hang on, kid. We’ll go find her.” Dan reached out for his friend. “Stone? Where are you?”

  “I can’t find the baby.”

  “She’s in the bathroom,” the girl said. “Sissy put her there. In the shower.”

  “Hurry, Buck! In the can! Shower!”

  “I found her!” A second later, Bucky emerged, coughing violently but with the infant in his arms. “Go, Litton!”

  Just as they went back out into the hallway they felt another sudden burst of heat as one of the doors blew open. For a brief second flames licked out into the corridor.

  “We can’t get out!” Bucky stopped in his tracks. Standing next to him, Dan held the small girl by the hand.

  “No, wait!” Dan pointed. “I think we can get through. The fire was still restricted to the hotel room, but creeping toward the open door. “Go right now!”

  “You first!”

  Without hesitating, Dan and the small girl sprinted past the open door where the fire was. Bucky raced right behind him, holding the squawling baby. In the roar of the conflagration, he didn’t even hear the child’s screams.

  Please, God! They burst through the hallway door seconds before a second wall of fire erupted just behind them. Thick smoke enveloped them, but a shout went up from the crowd below.

  “Can we make it?” Dan glanced down at the wooden stairs.

  “I can’t see a thing!” Bucky tightened his grip on the crying infant.

  Suddenly they heard a yell from below. “Go! It’s still clear!”

  Mopping at the tears streaming down his face, Bucky looked to see who was calling. Far below them a fire deputy was waving frantically. “Go! Go!”

  “You heard the man,” Dan gasped. “Let’s do it!” Just as they reached the fourth floor landing a tremendous explosion shook the building above them. Bucky looked up in horror as the whole top corner of the building burst into flames. His knees almost buckled as a wall of heat hit both boys full force. The little girl screamed.

  “Litton! Are you OK?” he shouted.

  “Yeah!” Gasping for oxygen, Dan scooped up the five - year - old and plunged down another flight of stairs, skipping several steps and almost losing his balance.

  “We’re almost there!” Shouting encouragement despite his aching lungs, Bucky managed to stay on his feet. Three . . . two . . . one! A roar of relief went up from the onlookers. Jonesy and Bill were right there, along with Coach Brayshaw, clutching at them. A woman wearing an EMT jacket pulled the infant from Bucky’s arms. “Good job!” she said. The baby’s wails subsided.

  “Stone! Litton! Are you guys OK?” Concern lined Coach Brayshaw’s face.

  Bucky sank to the ground in agonized relief. “Yeah, I think so.” Oddly, the wet grass felt cool to the touch as he watched the flames.

  Chapter Ten: Playing on an Empty Tank

  It was a good ten minutes before the painful tightness in his lungs and throat began to subside a bit. He had probably breathed in some dangerous fumes, Bucky decided. He took small sips from the can of soda another hotel guest had pressed into his hands, feeling the cool liquid ease the burning in his throat. The fire department fought the flames, but it was obvious that the entire left side of the building was collapsing. At least 125 people now milled around, some in various stages of sleepwear.

  Dan came over to where his teammate was sitting and painfully eased himself down next to him. Blackened perspiration streaked his face and his eyes still had a teary look about them. Every few seconds he mopped at them again even though the smoke from the fire was abating now.

  “Man, Stone, that was unreal.” He shook his head as he also accepted a cold beverage from one of the guests. “We must have made it with fifteen seconds left over.”

  “I know.” Right then Bucky felt so tired that he could barely swallow his drink. “But you know, if we hadn’t gone up there again, those last two kids probably wouldn’t have made it. By the time the fire fighters got here that whole side of the building just about blew away.”

  “You just go from town to town spreading heroism wherever you are.” Despite his fatigue, Dan managed a teasing grin. He gave Bucky a gentle poke in the log with his shoe.

  Coach Brayshaw came up behind Bucky and crouched down in the grass behind. Putting a hand on the shoulder of each, he gave a squeeze of approval. “I should have expected this from you guys,” he said. “Good job.”

  “Bucky made me do it.” Dan took a long final swallow of the drink and exhaled noisily.

  “Well, I’m proud of both you men.”

  Bucky shifted in the grass, feeling the throbbing ache of his muscles. “Coach, what about our game? And . . . I mean, where are we supposed to stay now?”

  The athletic director glanced up at the blackened hotel structure. “Well, we were moving out this morning anyway and going back to the tournament hotel,” he observed. “So I guess we can assume the team just checked out of this place.” Both athletes laughed.

  “As far as the game goes, I would hope they could postpone it. I mean, an 11:00 game this morning, with most of us being up pretty much half the night – you wouldn’t think they’d expect us to play.”

  A tired-looking man in a Hawaiian shirt and a headset cord dangling from his belt came over. “Are you Mr. Brayshaw?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And these are the two men who saved the kids?”

  “They sure are.” Coach climbed back to his feet and introduced his team members.

  “I’m Stanley Ochiro,” the TV man explained, “with KFVE Channel Five, and our crew really wants to get a few words on tape from your guys. Is that possible?”

  “Sure.” Brayshaw grinned. “You may have to get a sound bite with them sitting down, though. I think they’re too pooped to stand up.”

  “Not me,” Dan asserted. “TV cameras? Man, I feel a whole new burst of energy. Do very many Hawaiian girls watch your show? Single ones, I mean?”

  “Top ratings in all Hawaii.” The news reporter pointed. “Right over here, gentlemen.”

  Bucky watched in fascination on a small TV monitor as the crew replayed grainy footage of him and Dan scrambling down the stairs, each with a child in his arms. “Man, you got all that?”

  “We sure did.” The sound man hit a button and ran the tape back in slow motion. “Boss figures we might get a clip of this on a whole bunch of Hard Copy - type shows tonight.”

  For the next twenty minutes Mr. Ochiro asked questions and kept the camera rolling as Dan and Bucky tried to answer.

  “You had no idea who the kids were or anything?”

  “Huh uh.” Dan shook his head. “I still don’t know their names.”

  The news reporter waved with his hand and the cameraman lowered the heavy equipment. “Police are going to nail those parents but good,” he grunted. “‘Cept I didn’t want that part on tape. Can you imagine leaving five kids in a hotel room and then being out past 3:00 in the morning?”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty bad,” Still dog - tired, Bucky struggled to answer in a way that didn’t sound like babbling. With relief he noted that the crew was starting to pack up. “That’s it then?”

  “I think we got it.” The Hawaiian TV reporter had a broad smile on his face despite the fact that it was 4:45 in the morning. “Lead story on the morning news, and we got an outside shot at network tonight.”

  Coach Brayshaw
came over to where the two athletes were standing. “We just heard from the hotel we were supposed to be going to today,” he told them. “They still need for some guests to check out this morning before they can move us into our regular rooms, but they have three unoccupied suites. Manager said if we don’t mind doubling up four to a suite, we could go there right now and get some sleep. You know, couple guys on sofas and everything. Just in case we can’t get our game moved, I think it’s a pretty good deal.”

  “Let’s do it.” Despite the rush of adrenalin from being on TV, Bucky fell like he was about to blank out emotionally.

  “Shuttle van’s over there.”

  Bucky and Dan threaded their way back through the thinned - out crowd and found their gear. “Boy, this is a fun trip,” Dan grunted. “I spend the first day about ready to puke up my lunch, and now some nut smokes in bed and burns up our home sweet home.”

  “Are you kidding? Some guy smoking in bed?”

  “No, I don’t know.” Dan shook his head. “Don’t mind me – I was just crabbing.”

  It was still pitch black as the shuttle van pulled to a noiseless stop in front of the lobby of the new hotel. Looking down the street Bucky could tell that it was two buildings away from where Deirdre and her parents were staying. His swimming pool tryst with the college girl now seemed like five years ago.

  “You want to get Jonesy and Bill up with us?” he asked Dan.

  “Sure. Whatever.” Still shirtless, Dan was beginning to shiver in the early morning air. “Let’s just get some more sleep.”

  The huge luxury suite was up on the twenty-fourth floor, but Bucky didn’t spend any time noticing the amenities. Leaving the two queen - sized beds for someone else, he rummaged in a closet for a blanket. Burrowing into the thick softness of the nearest sofa, he wrapped the blanket around him and tried to sleep.

  But the nerve - shredding tension of the past two hours made it difficult to even doze off. Images of the five kids, their frightened faces pressed against the orange - sprayed hotel window, interspersed with memories of Deirdre and her kisses. He could still hear her laugh as she teasingly swam away from him and then emerged to give him a long kiss. “This is how we do it in college, Mr. Stone,” she had murmured, nestling herself into his arms.

  It felt like he’d slept for only a few minutes when an insistent knocking sounded at the door. “You getting that, Litton?” he murmured, but the knocking continued.

  “Coming.” Trying to wipe the cobwebs out of his eyes, he staggered to the front door of the suite and pulled it open a few inches. Coach Brayshaw stood there in his full athletic attire.

  “Hey, Coach.” Bucky motioned for the man to enter, then looked down at his own rumpled underwear. “Sorry I’m not dressed.”

  “Well, try to rouse yourselves,” Brayshaw told him, a tiny scowl of impatience on his face. “I just called the tourney people and they said we better plan to play. Schedule’s too tight and all ‘layered,’ they called it, to try to shuffle any teams around now.”

  “What?” Dan, still wearing the same cutoff shorts from the hotel fire, walked into the living area of the suite. “Are you kidding, Coach?” He gestured toward the bedroom area. “Wilson and Volker are still sacked out.” He yawned. “And me and Stone barely got any sleep at all.” A glance down at his bare forearm. “What time is it, anyway?”

  “‘Bout five minutes until 10:00.” The coach shook his head in disgust. “First they stick us in the worst hotel in Honolulu for three days. Then when it burns down, which is probably a good idea, they want us to play the best team in the tourney five hours later.”

  “What?” Dan snorted. “Who are we up against?”

  “Portland.”

  Bucky sagged. “Oh, man. Coach, we’ll never beat them.”

  “Probably not,” the older man snapped. “But that’s the ruling, so we better wake ourselves up and get over there.”

  “Game’s at 11:00, right?”

  “Check.”

  “What about breakfast, Coach?” Jonesy appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, still clad just in his boxers. “We can’t play with an empty tank.”

  Brayshaw glanced at his watch again. “Order yourselves some room service. But just a little bit. I don’t want you all stuffed right before tipoff. Get just enough to take the edge off. After the game we’ll get you some real food.”

  Bucky still felt wobbly as he walked onto the hardwood floor for Game Three. The Portland squad had heard about the hotel fire and the Panthers’ short night, and they wore tight, confident smiles.

  “Little weasels,” Dan muttered. “Already drinking champagne from the trophy cup, looks like. I’d like to kick ‘em good.”

  “Let’s just give it our best shot,” his teammate replied, trying to fight away the feelings of fatigue. At the moment the coveted slot in the final Friday round seemed a remote vision.

  The first half was a tensely played contest, with the Panthers rallying despite their emotionally draining night. Jonesy had a good stretch where he dropped four baskets in succession, but a few minutes before the break Portland pulled away to an eight - point lead.

  “We’re still in this game!” Coach Brayshaw exhorted during the brief halftime recess. “But watch the passes! They’re squashing us on turnovers.” He glanced over at Bucky. Twice in the first half Bucky’s assists had been errant, leading to turnovers and quick points for the team from Oregon.

  Sensing the forward’s weariness, the coach let him stay on the bench for the first few minutes of the second half. But Portland came out strong, scoring two immediate baskets against the substitute forward. Muttering an oath to himself, Brayshaw signaled timeout and motioned for his star player. “I got no choice, Stone. We’re down by twelve.”

  Bucky nodded, trying to quell the gnawing feeling of impending disaster.

  “OK, then. Go get ‘em!”

  Bill Volker brought the ball in and accepted the quick return pass from Dan. Dribbling down the court, he snapped a hard shovel pass to Bucky, who dropped a fourteen-footer. A tiny roar went up from the crowd of onlookers. “Now some Big D!” Dan clapped his teammate on the back as they backpedaled swiftly to the other end of the court. “Hold ‘em!”

  Twice in a row Hampton Beach managed to choke off Portland’s swarming offense, but the Panthers were only able to convert on one of the two scoring opportunities. The scoreboard’s glowing lights continued to show the eight - point deficit . . . with time ticking away.

  The margin stayed under ten until the middle of the final period. The Panthers’ sluggishness was too big a hurdle to overcome. On play after play that split second of advantage, the added zip on passes, wasn’t there. Breathing a prayer, Bucky tried to simply will an extra burst of energy, but his tired body just wouldn’t respond. The Oregon lead ballooned to fourteen points with under two minutes left.

  “Time out!” Coach Brayshaw signaled for one last huddle. The players, drenched with perspiration, gathered around, muttering glumly to themselves.

  The team’s coach looked from one man to another. “So we lose a tough one. That’s OK. You men played like champs today, all things considered. I’d like to see these Portland boys stay up all night saving kids out of burning buildings and then come in here and play the way you guys did. I mean that.” He glanced over at the opposing team, which was already beginning to celebrate. “Let’s play these last two minutes at full strength, full intensity. Finish like champs!”

  The Panthers were able to slice the lead to twelve points, thanks to two long - range scores from Volker. Bucky gave the diminutive guard a weary clap on the back as they walked off the floor. “Good goin’, Bill.”

  “What a ripoff!” Bill refused to be mollified. “Idiotic, making us play like that.”

  “Aaaah, don’t worry about it.” Dan, too tired to care any longer, picked up a towel and mopped at his face, still streaming with sweat. “Play hard and then sit on the beach. These games don’t count.”

  Standi
ng alone in the shower, tiredly lathering up with soap, Bucky replayed the events of the last twenty-four hours. If he hadn’t been out with Deirdre till midnight the evening before, would he have played better? Would the extra margin have meant the difference in the game? He didn’t think so, considering how the Portland team had been the one to beat anyway. Still, it was a nagging thought. He’d always prided himself on carrying his share of the load.

  The shower spray seemed to wash away some of his emotional confusion, and Bucky felt better as he toweled off. In a way the pressure was off now. The Panthers still had one more game to play, but they wouldn’t be going into the finals, so he and Dan could just relax, do their best, and enjoy the island. Instantly he wondered if he’d be able to see Deirdre again. The kisses in the swimming pool – that was just Hawaii. No big deal. But he was determined not to use any more excuses and subterfuge with Dan. He couldn’t treat his friend that way any longer.

  As the tournament bus pulled up at their new hotel, he turned to Dan. “What’s up, Litton?”

  Dan yawned. “Well, I figure one good nap of maybe half an hour, and I’m ready to hit the beach. I haven’t really been out on world - famous Waikiki yet, and the week is going by. Since we’re not really in training anymore, I’m going to buy me the biggest ice cream I can get and just go out there and stare at the waves.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  In the hotel lobby the desk clerk handed out new keys to all the players. “Your regular rooms are ready,” she told them. “And we’ve already moved your things for you.”

  “Bummer,” Dan grunted. “I liked where we were just fine.”

  The young woman laughed. “Yes, Mr. Litton, we’re sorry.”

  “How’d you know whose stuff was whose?” he wanted to know.

  “Call us if there are any mistakes,” she said. “But your suitcases did have airline name tags on them, so we tried to do our best.”

  As they entered the more modest guest room, Dan picked up a hotel envelope from the floor and glanced at it. “For you, Stone.”

  “Huh?”

  “Some letter. Beats me.”