A Different Game

by Sylvia Olsen

  “Well, that’s ridiculous,” Mom says, throwing her hands up in the air. “Who were the people choosing the team? What do they have against Albert?”

  “It’s not like that, Mom,” Murphy says. “Remember what I said about the way he was playing? I’ve been worried all week. Well…I’ve been worried for longer than that. He just hasn’t been playing like Albert.”

  Mom calms down a little. “But Albert is better than most boys, even when he’s playing at half speed,” she says. “Heck, he’s better with one hand tied behind his back. He’s the best player since Uncle Rudy.”

  “That’s kind of how he was playing—with one hand tied behind his back and at half speed,” Murphy says. He decides not to tell Mom about the fight Albert almost got into or the swearing or the bad attitude he’s been tossing around the field.

  Murphy tries hard to hold back his tears.

  “I don’t understand,” Mom says. “But I remember now. I didn’t like the way it sounded when you said his shots were weak and he wasn’t running as fast as he used to.”

  She gets up to start cooking supper.

  “What did he say when he didn’t make the team?” she asks.

  “He wasn’t at school today,” Murphy says.

  “Well, that doesn’t make sense either,” she says. “He was looking forward to this as much as the rest of you boys.”

  “We were going to be the Formidable Four. The first time ever that four players from the tribal school had a chance at making the starting lineup for the Riverside Strikers.”

  “There’s something wrong,” Mom says.

  “Danny says Albert hates middle school and wishes he was still in the tribal school.”

  “Do you think that’s it?”

  “I don’t know. I guess. He sure sounds like he hates the school.”

  “But everyone is worried about moving to a bigger school where there are older kids. He didn’t have to destroy his dreams. He wouldn’t have played badly because of that.” She hesitates. “Or would he?”

  She scrunches up her nose like she does when she can’t figure something out. She opens the fridge door and pulls out the milk and cheese.

  “What is going on with that boy?” she says over her shoulder. “Albert shouldn’t be that worried about the bigger school. He’s big enough to be in grade eight.”

  Mom’s right, Murphy thinks. Albert’s bigger than Jeff or Danny, and he’s a whole lot bigger than Murphy. But lately Albert looks smaller—like he’s been losing weight.

  In bed that night, Murphy hears Mom on the phone.

  She’s talking quietly, so he has to listen closely to understand what she’s saying.

  “Kelsey, have you talked to Carmel lately?”

  There is a long pause. Jeff’s mom must have a lot to say.

  “Really? Who said that?…Oh no…When will they find out for sure?…That’s really too bad. I wondered what was going on with Albert…Yeah. Murphy was saying the same thing…They must be really worried about him…No kidding…Let me know when you find out anything…Yeah, I agree. I don’t think I’ll tell Murphy either. Maybe we should wait until we know something definite before we say anything to the boys…Jeff sounds like Murphy. Happy about making the team, but really disappointed for Albert.”

  As soon as Mom disconnects from Jeff’s mom, she dials again. Something’s desperately wrong, and Murphy can count on Mom to find out what it is.

  “Tsina? Yeah, did you hear about Albert?”

  Mom takes the phone outside the back door. She shuts it behind her so Murphy can’t hear what she says.

  What about Albert?

  Why doesn’t Mom want me to listen?

  Why won’t she come and tell me? Albert’s my friend, not hers.

  Murphy’s brain won’t stop thinking, and none of his thoughts make him feel good. He has too many questions that he can’t answer.

  By the time Mom comes back into the house, Murphy is sleepy. He decides to wait until the morning to find out what’s going on.

  Chapter Ten

  “Mom.” Murphy taps Mom on the shoulder. It’s only 5:30 am, but he can’t sleep. “What’s wrong with Albert?”

  She turns over lazily and says, “What time is it?”

  “It’s five thirty,” he says. “I’ve been awake since four. I need to know what’s wrong with Albert.”

  “What do you mean, what’s wrong with him?” she says, as if she doesn’t know anything.

  “I heard you last night on the phone. And anyway, it’s obvious. Something is wrong.”

  She slides over and makes room for Murphy to sit beside her on the bed.

  “I don’t know exactly,” she says.

  “But you know something. You know more than I do.”

  “I’d rather wait to talk about it—until we hear more. I don’t know enough, Murph. It will just worry you.”

  “Mom, I’m worried already. What do you think I am? A little kid that can’t figure anything out?”

  “It’s just that…”

  “Albert’s my friend, Mom. I want to know.”

  “No one knows for sure yet. He has been having tests.”

  “Tests for what?”

  “They think he has leukemia. They’ll get the final test back today. Then we’ll know for sure.”

  “What’s leukemia?” Murphy asks. He’s never heard the word before, and it sounds pretty scary.

  “It’s a blood condition,” she says.

  “What kind of blood condition?”

  “Not a good one. But it can be cured. That’s really all I know, honey. I’ll phone around and see if I can find out more about it.”

  Murphy gets off Mom’s bed. He needs to know more. He can’t wait until later. He’s got too many questions, and they are burning a hole in his head.

  He hates waiting—the longer he has to wait, the bigger the hole will get.

  He heads back behind the blanket that makes up the wall of his bedroom. He turns on his computer and types the word Lukemia into Google. Do you mean: Leukemia? it asks him.

  He clicks the Wikipedia entry.

  Leukemia or leukaemia (Greek leukos, “white”;

  aima, “blood”) is a cancer of the blood or bone

  marrow and is characterized by an abnormal

  proliferation (multiplication) of blood cells,

  usually white blood cells (leukocytes).

  The word cancer makes Murphy’s stomach tighten and the saliva in his mouth dry up. That’s the same thing Grandpa had. Cancer. At least that’s what Mom says about her father. He died before Murphy was born. Leukemia is a scary word, but it’s not as bad as cancer. Murphy’s eyes scan the page as he scrolls farther down.

  Symptoms: fever, chills, weakness, fatigue,

  bone pain, joint pain, weight loss…

  None of it sounds any good. But Albert’s only twelve years old. Why would he get cancer? Murphy scrolls up and down until he finds the causes:

  1. Natural or artificial ionizing radiation

  2. Certain kinds of chemicals

  3. Some viruses

  4. Genetic predispositions

  Only the part about chemicals makes sense.

  Murphy’s seen programs on tv about pollution, and he knows it has something to do with chemicals, and somehow it’s all got something to do with cancer.

  He googles radiation.

  Radiation: as in physics, is energy in the form of waves or moving subatomic particles

  Murphy doesn’t have a clue what subatomic particles are, never mind how they could give Albert cancer.

  He googles genetic predispositions.

  A genetic predisposition is a genetic effect that

  influences the phenotype of an organism

  Murphy doesn’t understand most of the words, but he’s heard of genetics. Mom told him about it. It’s the thing that makes you a certain way because your mom or dad are that way. Like Mom said: She’s short. Dad’s short. So Murphy’s going to be short.
/>   “Don’t bother dreaming about being tall,” she told him. “It’s genetics. You’re going to be short.”

  Maybe someone in Albert’s family had leukemia, and that means Albert’s going to have it, which is a totally bad deal for Albert, if that’s what runs in his family.

  By the time Mom gets up, Murphy knows a lot more about leukemia than he did before, but he still has a lot of questions.

  The biggest question of all is: how will Albert get rid of it? Murphy couldn’t understand a word in the Treatment section of the Wikipedia entry. There were drugs with names so long that Murphy couldn’t even begin to pronounce them.

  “How long will it take for Albert to get rid of the leukemia?” Murphy asks as soon as Mom gets out of the bathroom.

  “I don’t know, Murphy,” she says. She looks like she hasn’t slept very well. “Like I said, I’ll look into it today.”

  “It sounds like there’s lots of drugs to take. And that it takes a long time. And that…” Murphy doesn’t want to say any more. Nothing he read sounded any good—even the stuff he could understand didn’t make him feel very optimistic about Albert.

  “Where’d you get your information?” she asks.

  “The Internet,” he says.

  “You can’t always depend on the information you get on the Internet, Murph,” she says. “You know that.”

  Murphy has one more question—the biggest one of all. It’s a question he doesn’t want to ask. It’s a question he doesn’t even want to think about. He sits at the table and pours milk on his cereal. He has to ask. Even if the answer is yes.

  “Mom.”

  “Yeah, Murph.”

  “It says leukemia might be caused by a virus.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Does that mean I can catch it from Albert?”

  “Oh, honey.” Mom grabs Murphy’s shoulders with both hands. “No, no, no. You can’t catch it. Is that what you think?”

  “No,” he says. “It’s just that…”

  He’s quiet for a few moments.

  “Do I have to go to school today, Mom?” Murphy asks. “I’d rather go and see Albert.”

  “Albert will be busy today. From what Tsina said, he’s going to the doctor today to get the final test results and talk about treatment.”

  “Shouldn’t he have a friend with him?”

  “We’ll see later this afternoon. Maybe you can call him then.”

  Chapter Eleven

  That evening Mom has the whole story. At least, she has the story that Jeff’s mom got from Danny’s mom, who spoke to Albert’s grandma.

  Albert’s sickness started back in the spring, just after the Easter Tournament. First he started complaining that his bones hurt. Then, in the summer, he began to feel tired a lot of the time. That’s when his attitude went from bad to worse. He wasn’t just grumpy sometimes, he was grumpy all the time. Finally, around the first week of school, his mom took him to the doctor. It didn’t take them very long—they did a few blood tests, and now they are sure he has leukemia.

  For now Albert has to take a lot of drugs. Then, after a while, he will have to go to Vancouver to a big hospital. No one knows for sure how long he will need to stay or how many times he will need to go there. Albert’s family’s pretty worried about that part of it. His mom has other kids and a job, which only leaves his grandma to go down to Vancouver to look after him in the hospital.

  When Mom’s finished describing Albert’s condition, Murphy gives him a call.

  “Sorry, Murphy,” Albert’s mom says. “Albert says he doesn’t want to talk to anyone.”

  Murphy tries to phone the next day and the next. But it’s the same every time: Albert doesn’t want to talk. Finally, when he calls, she says, “He’s coming, Murphy, just hang on for a minute.” So Murphy waits and waits until the line is disconnected.

  Albert doesn’t ignore only Murphy. He won’t talk to anyone. And to make matters worse, he doesn’t come to school all week or show up at the field on the weekend.

  “We have to do something about Albert,” Jeff says on Monday morning. “We can’t just leave him alone and forget about him.”

  Danny says, “He doesn’t want to see us. We can’t force him. So what are we supposed to do?”

  When they get to school, Molly is waiting at the bus stop.

  “Where’s Albert?” she asks.

  “He’s sick. Really sick,” Murphy says.

  “I don’t even want to see him,” Danny says.

  “When I phoned him the other night, he was shouting at his mom, ‘Tell Dummy to quit phoning me.’”

  Molly says, “Did he really say that?”

  “Yeah,” Danny says. “And he’s making me mad.

  I’m sorry he’s sick, but I’m not sticking around so he can call me junk like that.”

  “But Danny,” Molly says, pointing her finger, “you have to understand how Albert feels. He’s your friend, and he must feel awful.” She sounds like someone’s mom.

  “Oh, great. He calls me names, and I have to understand how he feels,” Danny says. “I don’t think that’s how a guy’s supposed to treat his friend.”

  Danny’s attitude doesn’t seem right to Murphy, but he sort of understands how Danny feels. Just because Albert’s sick doesn’t mean he can treat Danny badly.

  “Anyway, Molly,” Danny carries on. “Albert’s all we’ve been thinking about lately. Is he going to make the team? Oh, poor Albert, he didn’t make the team.

  Now he’s sick, and it’s still all about Albert. Is it just me, or is anyone else tired of worrying about Albert?”

  “Wow, Danny, that’s not very nice,” Murphy says. “I’m not tired of worrying about Albert. I’m just glad it’s not me who’s sick.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re not sick, and neither am I. So why can’t we just forget about all this?” Danny says. “We made the team. He didn’t. Now he’s wrecking it for us. It’s not fair.”

  “Am I hearing you right, Danny?” Molly gasps. “Is that what you really think?”

  “Duh,” Danny says. “I just said it, didn’t I? What do you think? That I’m lying to you?”

  Danny runs ahead toward the school, leaving Murphy, Molly and Jeff walking together silently to the front door.

  At lunch when the boys walk up the hill to the field for soccer practice, they have their heads down. No one says a word.

  Nothing has worked out the way it was planned. First Albert doesn’t make the team. Now he’s sick, and it doesn’t help that Danny has such a bad attitude. The first two games were okay, but nothing like Murphy had expected. Playing for the Riverside Strikers isn’t any fun at all. It’s the end of the Formidable Four. Everything is a disaster.

  “Hey, guys, tonight’s a big game,” Molly says when she catches up to them. “They say the Tempo Lake Tigers are going to be our biggest threat this year. They have a whole lot of returning players.”

  “They won’t even come close,” Jeff says.

  “Oh yeah?” Danny says. “They probably think we’re a bunch of losers. Riverside sucks.”

  Murphy tries to think of something to say, but what’s the point? When Danny gets this way, there’s not much anyone can do about it. But Danny’s wrong. Riverside doesn’t suck. They’ve won both their games so far. The first game was a slaughter— 11–0 for Riverside. It was as if the other team didn’t even show up. Even Jeff got a goal. The second game was tough, but it ended with Riverside up 2–1 with a great goal from Leroy.

  Danny’s shoulders slump as he walks onto the field.

  “I don’t even know why I bother playing on the team,” Danny mumbles as he walks away. “Without Albert, we’re going nowhere.”

  Molly stands silently beside Murphy for a few moments.

  “We have to do something, Murphy,” she finally says. “We can’t just let everything fall apart. This is your dream.”

  “Was my dream,” Murphy says, trying to remember how excited he used to be when he thought about bein
g on the Riverside Strikers. That’s when he thought that if he could make the team, then everything else in the world would be perfect. Now he isn’t even excited or proud. The truth is, even though Murphy is on the team, he has never felt as unhappy as he does today.

  “No, no, no, Murphy,” Molly says, standing with her hands on her hips. Murphy is amazed at how much she reminds him of his mom. “Playing for the Riverside Strikers IS your dream. And it’s Danny’s dream and Jeff’s dream too. We gotta do something.”

  “What can we do?” Murphy asks. “We can’t make Albert better. We can’t get the Formidable Four back together. We can’t change Danny’s attitude. Once he gets like that, he stays like that.”

  Molly raises the palms of her hands to the sides of her head. “You make me crazy,” she says. “Just go and play. I’ll think of something.”

  After practice, Danny and Jeff run ahead. Molly and Murphy take their time walking down the hill.

  “The all-schools intramural tournament is coming up in a few weeks, isn’t it?” Molly says.

  “Yeah, I think so,” he says. “In a month or something like that.”

  “It’s going to be held at Riverside this year, right?

  Teams are going to come from all over the place.”

  Murphy doesn’t respond.

  “It would be a good time to have a fundraiser.”

  “A fundraiser for what?”

  “Think about it. Albert must be scared. First he can’t play soccer like he used to, and then he doesn’t make it on the team. Then he finds out he’s sick, and now he has to go to Vancouver to have treatment— and his family can’t afford to make the trip over and over again. And they don’t even know how long he’ll have to be there. Wouldn’t you be scared?

  “Yeah. No kidding. I heard his grandma’s going to stay with him.”

  “Maybe, but it is going to cost a lot of money just to get his mom and the kids to travel back and forth.”

  “There’s nothing we can do about that.”

  “Come on, Murphy. We can’t change the fact that Albert’s sick. And we can’t get him back on the team, at least not right away. But we can do something to help him feel better and maybe not so scared.”