Sasquatch in the Paint

by Kareem Abdul-Jabbar

“That’s my point!” Gavin yelled into Tunes’s face. “It’s my song. Mine! And now everybody knows it.”

  “Yeah,” Tunes said, “but isn’t that kind of the point? Your song is famous.”

  “But he didn’t get paid for it, man,” Theo said. “Whoever stole his song and sold it to Wild World is the one profiting from it. And Wild World will profit from it. Everyone but the guy who wrote it.”

  “That sucks,” Tunes said sincerely.

  Gavin glared at him. His hands tightened on the desk until his knuckles were white. He started lifting it off the floor. The muscles in his neck and shoulders bulged. It looked as if he was about to toss the whole desk, with Tunes in it, through the window.

  “You going for style, or distance?” Rain said as she entered the classroom. “Getting in some practice, in case desk tossing becomes an Olympic event?”

  Gavin dropped the desk. Tunes bounced a little at the impact.

  Rain lifted the front of the desk Theo was sitting in.

  “Hey!” Theo protested.

  Rain let go, jolting him. “See? Not that hard to do.”

  “Oh, brother,” Brooke muttered. “Tweedledum and Tweedledumber.”

  Gavin walked up to Rain, his massive body towering over her like the Hulk over puny Bruce Banner (in those story arcs when they didn’t occupy the same body). Theo started to rise. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He just knew that he wasn’t going to let Gavin touch Rain.

  It was Rain who touched Gavin.

  She poked a finger into his thick chest. “I heard you got ripped off, Song Boy, and now you’re stumbling around school like Frankenstein’s monster, threatening people. If you really want to find out who did it, you’ll need a better plan. Fortunately, I’ve got one. So shut up and sit down, and let us get on with practice.”

  Theo couldn’t help wincing in anticipation of Gavin’s reaction to Rain talking smack to him. But his actual response was not at all what Theo had expected. In fact, it made Theo come to a stunning realization: Gavin wasn’t the same guy he was six months ago. The songs showed he had a whole artistic side Theo had never believed in. They also showed that he was in some pain. Sure, he could still be a jerk and a bully at times, but now that seemed less like the real him and more like a role he was playing. An act that he was used to putting on and that everyone expected of him. Theo was confused by this revelation. It made Gavin complicated; Theo almost wished Gavin would go back to simply being a jerk.

  The old Gavin might have responded to Rain by setting fire to her backpack or dumping honey in her hair. This Gavin just grinned and said, “You talked the talk, kid. Now you’d better be able to walk the walk.”

  To which Rain said, “I have no idea what that means, Django. But if you want my help, meet me after school.”

  To which Gavin said with a smile, “Django. That’s good.”

  To which Mr. J said as he entered the classroom, “Django. Brian, what are they referring to?”

  Brian: “Django Unchained, the 2012 western movie about an escaped slave bent on revenge directed by Quentin Tarantino. It’s based on a 1966 Italian western starring Franco Nero.”

  Mr. J: “Excellent. Theo, what does Django have to do with computers?”

  Daryl’s hand shot up. “Mr. J, should we be discussing an R-rated movie? Isn’t that against some sort of school policy?”

  “He didn’t tell us to watch it, moron,” Brooke said.

  “True dat,” Daryl said, looking around for a smile. “Really? Nothing? I don’t care. ‘True dat’ is coming back.”

  Mr. J repeated, “Theo, what does Django have to do with computers?”

  Theo: “Django is a high-level Python Web framework that encourages rapid development and clean design.”

  Mr. J: “Very good. Tunes, and Django in music?”

  Tunes: “Django Reinhardt, 1910 to 1953, was born Jean Reinhardt. His nickname, ‘Django,’ is Romanian for ‘I awake.’ He is considered one of the greatest jazz guitarists of all time.”

  Mr. J (to Gavin): “And that, young sir, is what we do. If you stay, you play. Otherwise, you may wait outside the classroom.”

  Theo expected Gavin to glare or scowl or snarl at Mr. J. Instead, his reply couldn’t have shocked Theo more if a third arm had shot out of his chest. He said, “Is it okay if I just sit and listen? I’ll be quiet.”

  Mr. J nodded and gestured toward a seat at the back of the class. Gavin went to the desk and sat quietly for the rest of the practice.

  Afterward, they agreed to meet up with Brian and Rain after school to figure out who the thief was. Once the mystery was solved, Theo assumed Gavin would tie him into a tiny pretzel and shove him into a greasy Dumpster. Just for old times’ sake.

  For now, Theo had his own problems. Like staying on the team. Make that teams.

  Gavin with the basketball team:

  With Gavin watching from the bleachers, Theo found himself trying even harder. Not that he wanted to impress his cousin, he just… Okay, he did want to impress him.

  “Lob it in to Theo,” Coach called from the sidelines. They were running the same drill for the two-millionth time.

  Chris Richards passed the ball to Theo.

  Theo caught it, spun toward the basket, and ran into the Great China Wall (a.k.a. Roger McDonald). Theo’s teeth rattled and cartoon birds spun around his head.

  “Traveling,” Sinjin said.

  The impact had caused Theo to shuffle his pivot foot.

  Roger smirked.

  Coach came over, trying hard not to look exasperated. “The move was good, Theo, but you have to anticipate your guy will be there. Where else would he be? So, like we talked about before, fake the spin to the right, then spin to the left. Get him to move. That way if he bumps you, it’s a foul. Got it?”

  “Got it, Coach,” Theo said.

  “Okay. Again.”

  They ran the play again. Theo caught the ball, spun to the right as the fake, then spun to the left. This time Sinjin swatted the ball from his hands, snagged it on the fly, and dribbled away.

  Theo looked over at Gavin, expecting to see a smug grin. But he didn’t look sneering and superior. He didn’t look embarrassed. He just watched with no expression.

  “Keep the ball up, Theo,” Coach called. “Out of their reach. Use your height. What’s the point of being tall if you don’t use it? Run it again.”

  They ran the play a few more times. When Roger and Sinjin double-teamed him, Theo tossed the ball out to unguarded Chris, who sank a ten-footer.

  “Yes!” Coach hollered. “Yesyesyes!”

  But the very next play, Theo tried to do the same thing and Sami Russell darted in to intercept the pass.

  “You’ve got to mix it up, Theo,” Coach said. “Don’t be predictable.”

  And so on.

  Finally, it was over. When everyone headed for the locker room, Gavin merged with the players and fell into step with Theo.

  “I think what the coach meant,” Gavin said, “is you need to spin with a little more power.” Suddenly he whirled around as if to demonstrate, “accidentally” crashing into Roger. The impact sent Roger toppling backward, his hand flailing out for balance. His flailing hand smacked Sinjin in the face.

  “Oh, sorry, guys,” Gavin said. “My bad.” He looked at Theo and smirked.

  Theo might have smirked, too.

  GAVIN, Theo, and Rain climbed down out of the municipal bus and started walking toward the tall office building.

  “He’s in here?” Gavin asked Rain.

  “Yup,” she replied.

  The front of the building was old-fashioned red brick for about fifteen feet up. Then the brick stopped with a zigzag edge that resembled a broken eggshell. From inside the brick facing, a black steel-and-glass building rose thirty stories high, as if hatched from that brick egg. This was the Henderson Building.

  Theo looked up, shading his eyes. “Looks like something out of a sci-fi movie. Where the bad guys make their evil plans to re
lease a supervirus—”

  “That turns poor people into mindless slaves,” Rain interrupted.

  “But first they need to use their secret time machine—”

  “To go back in time to get the missing ingredient to make the virus work—”

  “Uh, uh, uh…” Theo faltered, thinking. Then: “The tears of a child. Because in the future, everyone is too numb to cry.”

  “Yes!” Rain exclaimed. “That’s good.”

  Theo smiled proudly.

  “If you two are finished nerd-flirting,” Gavin said with a growl, “let’s get this done.”

  “We weren’t flirting,” Theo said, heat rising to his cheeks in embarrassment.

  Rain laughed. “Boys,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll go in and check the place out. Three kids wandering around might look like a few rabid fans seeking autographs or something.”

  Gavin nodded and Rain disappeared into the building.

  Theo and Gavin waited in silence.

  By the time they’d met up with Rain after school, she’d already done some research on the Internet and made a few calls. She had a plan of action, and since Gavin’s only plan had been to scowl and threaten students until someone confessed, they agreed her plan was better.

  And here they were.

  After a few minutes, Gavin said, “She’s cool.”

  Theo shrugged as if he had no opinion.

  Gavin grinned. “Listen, little cuz, this isn’t the time to play it all frosty gangsta. She’s smart, you’re smart. She’s cute, you look like the backside of a dog. Match made in geek heaven.”

  Theo shrugged again. “Yeah, well…” He didn’t know what to say. He’d never talked about anything personal with Gavin before. It felt like some sort of trap.

  “That Brain Train thing you do,” Gavin continued.

  Here it comes, thought Theo. I knew it was a trap. Now he’ll make some typical cruel remark about a bunch of dweebs who know useless info that only our parents can appreciate. Which is good, because we’ll be living in their basements for the rest of our lives.

  Instead, he said, “I get it, Theo. You guys pushing each other to be smarter. Like you’re all survivors in some jungle, sharpening your brains like spears, so you can go out into the world to hunt. Kinda like the way I’m always trying to get better at writing songs. It was pretty cool to watch.”

  Theo just stared at his cousin. This couldn’t be the same Gavin who yanked Theo’s jeans down in front of everyone at last year’s Thanksgiving dinner and hollered, “Who wants a turkey leg?”

  “And since I’m in a Yoda mood,” Gavin said, “here’s what I noticed about you playing basketball at practice today.”

  Theo inhaled as if getting ready to take a punch to the stomach. Gavin couldn’t have anything positive to say about that practice.

  “It seems to me,” Gavin said, “that you play like you’re ashamed of being tall. Like it’s a curse rather than an advantage. You play like you’re apologizing for your height. You know what I mean?”

  “No.”

  Gavin sighed. “It’s like you think you’re some kind of freak and they’re doing you a favor letting you play. Like I told you before, you can’t play like you’re afraid to lose. You gotta play like you know you’re gonna win.”

  Theo started to protest, but then said, “What about you? Why are you so bold in everything but your music? Why not share it?”

  Gavin looked down. “I share it,” he said in a low voice. “With my mom. She’s heard everything. It’s kind of like a special link between us. I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “What does she say about your music?”

  “She’s my mom, bro—what’s she gonna say, except it’s the best thing since Mozart.” He laughed. “She keeps telling me I should share it, too. But I’d rather get punched in the face than play it for somebody else.”

  “Then why’d you play it for me?”

  Gavin didn’t say anything for a minute. Then he grinned and said, “Because you remind me of my mom, all girlie and stuff.” He punched Theo playfully, clearly trying to change the subject.

  Before Theo could say anything, the door to the building opened and Rain waved for them to follow her.

  Ten minutes later and twenty-one stories higher, they entered a reception area through huge glass doors. The space was as large as a classroom. The floor and walls were marble, except for one wall, which was a black waterfall. The receptionist sat behind a marble and wood counter. Behind her on the wall were large gold letters spelling out MOONSILVER, KRAMER, DOBSON, AND SCHWARTZ—ATTORNEYS-AT-LAW.

  Rain spoke to the receptionist, a chubby guy in a shiny black suit and bright red bow tie who looked like the Nordstrom’s shoe salesmen who used to wait on Theo’s mom. At first, he seemed to be trying to get rid of Rain. But he had underestimated her. She just kept talking, her hand gestures getting more animated as she spoke. Finally, he made a phone call and relayed whatever she had told him.

  Three minutes later, a young woman in a tight beige skirt and silky blue blouse escorted them down a long hall of offices. Behind each etched-glass door a worker was hunched over his or her computer keyboard, or writing furiously on a yellow legal pad, or both. The place was so busy with well-dressed men and women that it seemed like this suite of offices was somehow responsible for everything important that was going on in the world. Just thinking about it made Theo’s stomach tighten with anxiety.

  “Almost there,” Blue Blouse said pleasantly. Every step of her high heels clacked against the marble floor like gunshots in a video game.

  When they arrived at the right door, Blue Blouse held it open for them to enter.

  “Ms. Moonsilver?” Blue Blouse said. “The children are here.”

  “Children?” Gavin snapped. “We’re not ch—”

  Rain laid a calming hand on Gavin’s arm. He stopped speaking, though clearly he was still agitated.

  They entered the office. It was three times as big as any of the others they’d passed. One wall was floor-to-ceiling glass, with a sweeping view of much of Orange County. From twenty-one stories up, Theo could see two different freeways, South Coast Plaza shopping mall, a community college, and far into the hazy distance, a sliver of the Pacific Ocean. The view gave him the feeling that the window was a windshield and the person who sat in this office steered the entire county from here.

  Behind the giant desk sat a middle-aged woman with midnight-black hair that had a gray streak on either side, like parentheses around her face. She wore turquoise-and-silver earrings and bracelets. She also had a silky blouse, but hers was the kind of white you’d only see somewhere in the Arctic where no one has ever touched the snow.

  Her desk was so massive it probably could be seen from outer space.

  Theo, Rain, and Gavin sat down across from her in equally massive red leather chairs. The chair made Theo feel like he should be commanding a starship.

  “So nice of you to see us without an appointment, Ms. Moonsilver,” Rain said politely to the woman.

  Moonsilver? The name finally registered for Theo. It was one of the names in gold on the lobby wall. She was one of the owners of this law firm.

  Ms. Moonsilver didn’t smile or offer to shake hands. Instead, she picked up a gold clock from her desk and turned it around so they could see it.

  “You said you had important information about a crime committed by our clients Wild World. You have exactly five minutes to convince me this isn’t some kind of childish prank. After that, I’ll have security escort you from the building. Whether it’s into a waiting police car is entirely up to you.”

  “You’re Native American,” Gavin said.

  “Indian,” she corrected. “We call ourselves Indians. We let the rest of the world worry about being politically correct.” She tapped the clock. “You now have four minutes left.”

  Gavin stood up and snatched the clock into his fist as if he were about to throw it against the wall. “Your clients are thiev
es, and I’m going to sue them! I don’t care how many fancy lawyers they have.”

  Ms. Moonsilver showed no emotion. Neither fear, nor anger, nor even interest.

  Rain said calmly, “Sit down, Gavin.”

  He replaced the clock and plopped back down in the chair, staring at Ms. Moonsilver.

  Rain explained everything.

  Ms. Moonsilver listened, again without any emotion. When Rain finished, she stood up. “Wait here,” she said, and left the room.

  They sat in silence, staring out of the huge window.

  Ms. Moonsilver returned and walked briskly back to her desk. She sat down and looked at Rain, Gavin, and Theo with a stern frown. “I’ve checked the appropriate documents, and here’s the situation: Someone approached my clients with the song ‘Wolfheart.’ My clients agreed to purchase it. The seller already had the proper contracts and release forms with them, including a statement of ownership. The agreed-upon payment was made. So, as far as my clients are concerned, they acted in good faith and are not liable in any way. If you have a claim, it would be against the seller.”

  “Who is the seller?” Gavin demanded.

  “I’m afraid I can’t give you that information. Client confidentiality. Which means I can’t legally discuss in any more detail my clients’ business. Which also means that we’re done here. You may leave.”

  The three of them were stunned. Even Rain.

  “That’s it?” Gavin said, jumping to his feet. “We come all the way down here and that’s all you tell us?”

  “I didn’t ask you to come here,” Ms. Moonsilver said.

  “One more question,” Rain said. “How did you get the song to go viral so quickly?”

  Ms. Moonsilver almost smiled. “You can’t make anything go viral. All you can do is send it to all the popular sites and bloggers. If they like it, they’ll pass it on. And if others like, they’ll pass it on. In the end, the video or song still has to have something special. This song has that something.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Gavin said. “I wrote it.”

  “Not in the eyes of the law. You’ll have to prove it in a courtroom.”

  An hour later they were all sitting on a picnic table at Palisades Park. They’d been quiet on the bus. Defeated.