Read The Basketball Mystery Page 2


  Courtney ignored Tipper and turned to Buzz. “Hi, Buzz. I guess they didn’t tell Tipper that she’ll be helping me coach the Fast Breakers.”

  “Listen, I couldn’t be happier, Courtney. Honest,” Tipper said. “I always admired your playing so much, even though I feared it! Nobody made me lose more sleep over games than you. I hope we’ll be friends.”

  Again Courtney ignored Tipper. What was going on? the Aldens wondered.

  Courtney introduced the other people with her. “Frank, Tom, come meet the great basketball legend Buzz Nettleton. Buzz, this is Frank Fowler. He referees some of the games. As for Tom, he coaches the Rockets, one of the neighborhood teams. When he’s not doing that, he works as a painter at the sports center. He’s finishing up the paint job before it officially opens.”

  Buzz shook both men’s hands. “Hey, I know you — Tom Hooper! Didn’t you play for Warwick a couple of years before my class at Greenfield High? And Frank, I know I’ve heard your name.”

  Before Buzz could continue, Frank Fowler said quickly, “No need to go into details. Now that we’ve all met, let’s sit down and get our plans organized. The kids in Greenfield are the big basketball stars now, not us.”

  “Yoo-hoo,” Mrs. McGregor called out from the kitchen window. “There’s coffee and muffins in here. You can bring in your paperwork and work around the kitchen table. Everything’s all set.”

  After the grown-ups went inside, Patsy Cutter began shooting baskets again. “Tipper just showed me a couple of new moves. Look how great I’m getting already!” she yelled as she made basket after basket.

  Everyone else waited for Patsy to share the ball. But she never did. Finally the other players gave up.

  “I’ll get us some juice,” Henry told everyone. “After that, let’s have a half-court game.”

  Henry went inside to fetch juice and cups from the kitchen. He noticed everyone seemed awfully quiet around the table.

  “Gee, you’d think they were talking about insurance or something boring — not basketball,” Henry told the other children when he returned. “If I were famous players like them, I’d be going over all the great old games. They don’t seem to care for one another much.”

  “Not like us, right, Henry?” Soo Lee grinned at her cousin.

  “No, not like us,” Henry agreed. “I hope Grandfather doesn’t notice that they’re not too friendly. He donated a lot of money to the sports center so people would have fun together.”

  Henry poured out juice for everyone. “My coach at school told me that when Buzz was a senior at Greenfield High, he broke Frank Fowler’s record for the most points ever made. Maybe Mr. Fowler is still upset about that.”

  “That was such a long time ago,” Jessie said. “He’s a lot older than Buzz. Why would he still care?”

  Patsy put her juice cup down on the grass. “Players always care about being the best. If I had the record, I would never, ever want anybody to break it. Oops, look what I just did.” Patsy’s paper cup had tipped over, spilling juice on her shorts.

  “You can go to the upstairs bathroom and wash them off in cold water,” Jessie said. “I have lots of shorts in the bottom drawer of my dresser. Go ahead and borrow a pair. My room is next to the bathroom.”

  “Hurry back,” Henry called out to Patsy. “We have enough kids here for a quick game.”

  After Patsy left, Henry organized the older children into two teams. “Benny and Soo Lee, you can keep score and be the referees. Whoever gets to ten points first wins.”

  Benny and Soo Lee took their jobs very seriously.

  “Foul!” Benny shouted when a boy named James brushed by Jessie.

  Soo Lee counted the score with some pebbles. The game was short and ended ten minutes later.

  That’s when Jessie noticed Patsy hadn’t returned. “I wonder what happened to her. I’ll go check.”

  Jessie scooted through the kitchen. She overheard Frank Fowler talking in a cross voice. “No, I disagree, Buzz. You haven’t lived in Greenfield for a long time. It’s not a good idea to team up kids from the south end with north end players. No way.”

  “Fine. Whatever you say, Frank,” Buzz answered quietly. “Now, how about having Tom make up the practice schedules?”

  Frank Fowler disagreed with this suggestion, too. “No, I have a computer at home, and Tom doesn’t.”

  Jessie overheard Tom’s nervous laugh. “Give me a paintbrush or a basketball any day. I’m not too good with computers and writing things down. It’s okay by me if Frank handles the paperwork.”

  “Good. That’s settled,” Jessie heard Frank Fowler say.

  Jessie headed upstairs. She checked the bathroom. Patsy’s shorts were hanging on a towel bar in the shower. But Patsy didn’t seem to be around. Maybe she had gone home without telling anyone. Jessie stopped by her room to get a stopwatch for Benny and Soo Lee.

  When Jessie stepped inside, she jumped back. “Patsy! You scared me,” Jessie said when she saw her friend standing next to Tipper’s bed. “Oh, good, you found some shorts. I thought you went home.”

  Something heavy dropped to the floor.

  “What was that?” asked Jessie.

  Patsy looked worried. “I was, uh . . . looking at these pictures on this bookcase, that’s all. A big book fell down. I’ll pick it up.

  “Fine,” Jessie said. She went over to her desk for the stopwatch. She caught Patsy’s reflection in the mirror. Whatever Patsy picked up didn’t seem to be a book.

  “Come on, let’s go out,” Jessie told Patsy. “Everybody’s waiting for us.”

  CHAPTER 3

  A Big Mix-up

  Poor Mrs. McGregor. For the next few days she cooked up a storm for Buzz and Tipper. But the busy twins were hardly ever home!

  “Goodness, those two are going to turn into skeletons,” Mrs. McGregor told the children. “What they need is good home cooking, not all these banquets and such that they have to attend.”

  “Now, now, Mrs. McGregor,” Mr. Alden said. “None of your delicious leftovers will go to waste in this house.”

  Benny patted his stomach. “See, I’m not turning into a skeleton.”

  Mr. Alden laughed. “Everybody in Greenfield wants to meet the twins before they start coaching the neighborhood teams. The newspaper is full of pictures of them visiting schools and youth groups. And they’re going to be on television. I hope they don’t wear themselves out.”

  Violet had been quiet all through dinner. Now she spoke up. “I hope Tipper has enough time for the Fast Breakers tonight. I need help on my passing. Courtney spends nearly all her time with Patsy. She’s already a good player.”

  Jessie turned to her sister. “Patsy does take up a lot of the coach’s time. Look, tonight is our first practice with Tipper coaching. I know she’ll give everyone lots of attention. She wants to make the Fast Breakers into a super team.”

  “How are your Blazers doing, Henry?” Mr. Alden asked.

  Henry seemed a little quiet. “Well, Grandfather, I can hardly wait for Buzz to start coaching my team. Then Mr. Fowler can go back to being the referee. He’s been coaching, and for some reason he doesn’t seem to like me.”

  “Frank is a hard one to figure out, isn’t he?” Mr. Alden said. “When we were organizing the sports center, he was one of our biggest boosters. He had all kinds of plans.”

  “I know,” Henry broke in. “Wasn’t it his idea to have a fund-raising game with all the best players who graduated from all the high schools around Greenfield?”

  “Indeed, it was his excellent idea,” Mr. Alden said. “That’s why I arranged for the twins to come back to Greenfield for a visit. Something changed with Frank after he heard about that.”

  Henry nodded. “Everybody thinks Mr. Fowler is upset that Buzz broke his high school record. Whenever anyone mentions Buzz, Mr. Fowler changes the subject. Anyway, things should get better starting tomorrow.”

  “Why is that, Henry?” Violet asked.

  Henry studied a pi
ece of paper. “Buzz left me a copy of his coaching schedule. He’s due to practice with the Blazers tomorrow afternoon. Mr. Fowler will be away at a conference for most of the day. We won’t have to worry about Buzz getting in his way.”

  The children helped clear the dinner table.

  “Well, I hope Courtney and Tipper get along at our practice tonight,” Jessie said, handing Henry the dishes. “After all, they were on opposite teams when they were in high school.”

  “They’re not too friendly, either,” Henry said as he loaded the dishwasher. “But at least Tipper didn’t break Courtney’s high school record.”

  An hour later, Mr. Alden drove Jessie and Violet to the new sports center. The building wasn’t quite finished yet, but the indoor and outdoor basketball courts were ready for practice. The Fast Breakers girls were the first to use the indoor court.

  “There’s the twins’ car,” Violet said when Mr. Alden pulled up. “That means they’re back from the banquet. We’re a few minutes early. Maybe Tipper can help me before the rest of the team gets here.”

  “See you later, Grandfather,” Jessie said. “The twins are going to drive us home at nine o’clock.”

  The Greenfield Sports Center had a nice new smell of fresh paint and wood. Jessie and Violet stopped to look at the display case in the lobby.

  “ ‘James Alden, Donor.’That’s Grandfather’s name!” Violet said. “Now everyone who wants to play basketball can come here.”

  Jessie and Violet headed toward the gym. Their feet slapped against the new tile floors. Every sound echoed through the empty halls.

  A minute later the girls heard angry words echoing through the halls as well.

  “Somebody’s having an argument,” Jessie said.

  The girls slowed down. Should they go in the gym? Or make a lot of noise so the people would hear them and stop arguing?

  “It’s easy for you to come in and take over for a couple weeks,” a young woman said. “But I’m the one who’s still going to be here after you leave Greenfield.”

  The halls were quiet. Jessie and Violet wondered what to do next.

  “I’m sorry,” the second person said. “I didn’t want to force my ideas on the girls. I just thought —”

  “Everybody knows what you think from all those interviews you do. But that doesn’t mean I have to agree with everything you say. I still think we should pick out the best players and give them the most training. Then they can lead the team.”

  “That’s Courtney’s voice,” Jessie whispered. “She and Tipper are having a disagreement.”

  Violet nodded. “Let’s make a lot of noise so they’ll hear us.”

  Jessie coughed. She and Violet took heavy steps. They didn’t want to break in on the two young women during an argument.

  Courtney and Tipper turned around when the Aldens walked in. Tipper looked flushed and upset. Courtney fiddled with some papers.

  “Hi,” Jessie said. “I guess we’re early for practice. We saw your car outside, Tipper, so we just came in. Is Buzz here?”

  Tipper cleared her throat. “He wanted to try the outdoor court now that the spotlights are hooked up. Then he has some errands to run. He’ll be back to pick us up at nine. I wonder if I should go outside and practice, too. I don’t seem to be much help around here.”

  Before the Aldens could say anything, some of the other Fast Breakers girls arrived. Courtney’s and Tipper’s cross words were soon forgotten. The girls squealed with excitement. Tipper Nettleton was really here!

  One of the girls quickly removed a sneaker. She handed it to Tipper. “Hi, I’m Amy Billings,” the girl said. “I know this might seem funny, but would you autograph my sneaker?”

  Tipper laughed. “Sure thing, Amy.” She picked up a pen from the coaches’ table. “It’s not the first time I’ve autographed a sneaker or somebody’s hand or even a napkin in a restaurant. Here you go.”

  Pretty soon all the girls wanted their sneakers autographed. Suddenly everyone heard the scream of a whistle.

  “Listen up, people!” Courtney yelled over the girls’ voices. “Are we here to play basketball or get autographs? Anybody who isn’t ready for practice shouldn’t be here.”

  The girls’ voices died down. They put their sneakers back on. Courtney blew the whistle again. The girls knew what this meant. No more talking. Make a circle. Listen to the coach. After all, they were the Fast Breakers. They wanted their team to be the best.

  “Okay, we’re going to do some drills tonight,” Courtney told the players. “Tipper will take some girls. I’ll take the others.”

  Several of the girls whispered when they heard this. All the girls wanted to be in Tipper’s group.

  But Courtney Post had other plans. “Okay,” she began. “I want the following girls to line up here next to me: Patsy, Jessie, Mary Kate, and Ellen. Everyone else stand next to Tipper.”

  The girls stood in two rows side by side. Courtney and Tipper checked their clipboards to decide which drills to cover.

  “What’s the matter, Violet?” Jessie whispered when she saw how disappointed her sister looked. “Do you mind that we’re not in the same group?”

  Violet shook her head. “It’s not that. Courtney just likes a few players best. She teaches them to keep the ball to themselves. I know you wouldn’t do that. But the others she picked just hold on to the ball, especially Patsy. The rest of us won’t get to play very much.”

  Jessie gave Violet’s hand a squeeze. “Tipper won’t let that happen. No way. Besides, now that she’s coaching your group, you’ll get so good, you’ll be on the court all the time.”

  Courtney blew her whistle again. “Okay, girls. Here’s what’s happening. Tipper will get some basketballs from the storage room. Everybody else, meet with your groups down at each end of the court. Ready?”

  “May I have the key to the storage room?” Tipper asked Courtney.

  Courtney stared at Tipper. “I gave you the key already. Don’t you remember? Right after that newspaper interview here yesterday morning?”

  Tipper’s face turned red. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy, I guess I forgot. It’s probably in my gym bag or my purse. I’ll go check.”

  After Tipper left, Courtney spoke to the girls. “Well, it’s too bad we have to waste so much time waiting around. We should be playing. But that’s what happens when you’re famous.”

  When Tipper returned, she was empty-handed. “I’m sorry, Courtney. I couldn’t find the key. Are you sure you gave it to me? There were so many people around yesterday morning, I just don’t remember.”

  Courtney shifted from one foot to the other. She checked her watch. “It’s already seven-thirty. We haven’t got time for this. There’s a basketball in my gym bag. We really need a bunch of them, but one will have to do. I’ll use it for my group. Did you bring one?”

  “No, but Buzz did!” Tipper said, relieved. “He’s practicing on the outdoor court — that is, if he’s still there. I’ll borrow his basketball. Wait up, girls!” she called out to her group.

  A few minutes later, Tipper returned empty-handed again. “Buzz left. I don’t think he’ll be back until nine o’clock to pick us up.” She looked nervously at Courtney. “Do you think our group could share your basketball?”

  Courtney rolled her eyes. She took a long time to answer. “I guess so. But you’ll have to wait until we’re done. Come on, girls.”

  With that, Courtney went off with her group. Soon the other end of the gym was filled with the sound of her girls dribbling, passing, and making shots from the foul line.

  Tipper’s group was quiet. When would they get a turn? No one asked for Tipper’s autograph now. The girls just wanted to play basketball. They weren’t going to improve if they were watching from the sidelines.

  “Sorry, guys. I really goofed,” Tipper told the girls. “But that doesn’t mean we just have to sit here. Let’s do some stretches. Then I can show you some things my college coach taught me about the ready posi
tion and about guarding. You don’t need a ball for those. Bet you’ve never played basketball without a ball before!”

  Soon Tipper’s girls were having fun even without the ball.

  “First I’m going to show you the ready position. Okay, everybody, line up and do what I do.”

  Tipper stood with her feet apart, knees bent, arms out, and hands curved as if she were holding a ball. She made the girls practice their ready positions quicker and quicker. “Relax. Hold. Ready position! Now I want you to run, then get into position when I say stop.”

  In no time the girls were able to get themselves into the ready position without even thinking about it.

  “Okay, the next drill is guarding,” Tipper said. “This is important, girls. You need to be as close as possible to the other player, but you can’t touch her. I don’t want my Fast Breakers giving up foul shots to the other team. Okay, let’s try ‘ghosting.’ Pair up with another player. Pretend one of you is running to the backboard with the ball. The other girl shadows the runner like a ghost. Remember, no touching!”

  The girls enjoyed this drill. Tipper made them shadow each other closer and closer, faster and faster. When anyone touched, she blew the whistle, and the “ghost” was out. After a while, Tipper hardly blew her whistle at all.

  “Gee, I guess you really can have fun playing basketball without a basketball,” Violet said when the girls took a break.

  Tipper bit her lip. She looked over at Courtney’s girls. They showed no sign of giving up the ball. “Well, there’s only half an hour left. It’s even more fun to play with a ball! I’ll ask Courtney for it.”

  At eight-thirty, Courtney’s group finally quit.

  “Everybody drink plenty of water,” Courtney told her group when they stopped playing. She threw the ball across the gym to Tipper. “It’s all yours.”

  Tipper jumped to her feet. “Okay, girls. Now you can try out everything we’ve been practicing, only this time with a ball. Ready?”

  “Ready!” Tipper’s girls screamed.

  Soon they, too, were passing, dribbling, and making baskets.