Read Voices - A Special Abilities Novel Series Page 14
Chapter 13
Out like a light
Game three was a home game, and the arena was packed. The heat and humidity was amplified way above normal by all the students and fans packed into the arena tonight.
Scanning over the arena I spotted Dr. Ishmail in the crowd, he gave me a nod of approval and held up two fingers and then switched to one finger. Two down one to go. I got it. I nodded back, a small knot of tension registered in my gut.
Tonight would be all about trusting your teammates, and that’s what I was doing now. This was Marty’s night to shine. He had to endure that ungodly hot mascot suit for one more night, but this time the plan was all him. Tonight’s game was forecasted to be a barnburner.
We planned to have Marty positioned at North Carolina’s basket side during both halves of the game. Marty was to take control of the balls coming to the rim on the free throws only in the first half, to see if that would be enough to push the game far enough in our favor.
Teams go on cold spells from the free throw line all the time, so it would be believable. Also, if Marty just altered the free throws he would have time to set himself up and would know where the balls were coming from. He would know exactly at what time the shot was being taken, making it easier for him to just slightly alter the flight of the ball so no one else could tell what was happening.
Meea, acting as back up, was beside the NC bench in case she had to put a starting player in a trance. Even though I found it hard to believe she would have any trouble, seeing as I could barley keep my eyes off her, counting on the other players to meet her gaze for an extended period of time was unreliable. Hell you never know, maybe they have a gay star basketball player on their team.
Stacy's job was to track the officials to make sure that none of them made purposefully bad calls. She would also look for a fix in place, or cheating, or any other thing we hadn’t thought of. Stacy also had pre game talks with all our players to see if anything unusual was going through their heads. It was up to me to try and pick up as many opposing team’s voices as I could, but the best seat I could get tonight was floor side under the south basket. If I had to use my voice I would only be able to help on this side of the court, but I wanted to keep my voice under wraps if at all possible. I also started to wonder if maybe another group was told to make us lose the game just to make things harder.
At the start of the game the Saints won the tip so things started off good, but half way through the first half the Saints were down by three. North Carolina missed all of their free throws as planned and Marty seemed to have that part of the game under control. The Saints picked it up before the half ended and went on a 15 to 3 run taking us into the locker room with a ten-point lead.
Coming out of half time the Saints played well. Although we held a ten-point lead at the ten-minute mark, the N.C. Tar Heels weren't making this easy. They made a run of their own and tied the game up with seven minutes to go. I directed Marty to try and stop every shot that was taken in the last five minutes, the problem was they were not taking shots now… they were driving to the basket and throwing them down, which wasn't something Marty was able to alter.
The game was almost over and we had lost control, I should have taken steps earlier to prevent the game from getting this close. The girls had their eyes on me looking for direction. The Saints were up by two with fifteen seconds left on the clock.
We were sure the Tar Heels would drive in for the tie, since lay-ups had gotten them back in the game. If they pulled up at the three-point line to shoot for the win it would be easy for us… Marty would just grab the ball in flight and adjust it enough to miss. We would also be in luck if we fouled the shooter driving in for the lay-up. Marty could alter his free throws.
It all seemed like it would work out in any scenario I played out in my head, until the man driving to the basket got fouled from behind and flew head first right into Marty knocking him out cold on the last play. That guy hit Marty like a truck. I heard the air rush from Marty’s lungs as he landed back against the bleachers. I was pretty sure he would be fine, but with the heat in the arena and being in that suit for hours it didn’t take much to knock him out. The sideline crew moved him back behind the bench and took his mascot head off. They worked to try to revive him, but it was going to be too late.
The Tar Heel player was at the line preparing to shoot his first free throw. He had to make both to force the game into overtime but I couldn’t chance playing them in OT with my star player unconscious behind the bench. I needed to win this game now.
The first free throw went up and in. Think…think… Meea was staring at me her eyes and mouth wide open. I pointed up to the rafters and hoped she could see what I was pointing at. She looked up and then back to me and nodded. There are always a few pigeons that somehow managed to find their way into these arena buildings. They either manage to get in through the doors that are always standing open or one of the hundreds of windows.
Meea was staring up at the birds as the players high five the free throw shooter for making the first basket. Having received his encouragement the shooter stepped back to the line.
The referee tossed the ball back to the shooter. As he prepared to shoot, I looked up and saw that the birds were headed down from high up in the rafters and realized they were not going to make it down in time to affect the shooter. I took a quick glance at Meea who had a huge grin on her face and then spun back to look at the shooter just as his shot was going up. Splat! Pigeon poo hit him right in the face as he let go a very awkward looking shot attempt. It fell short of the basket and the horn sounded making our third straight win a reality.
I was only sorry that Marty was not able to see the kid get hit in the face with…eww that’s disgusting. Now that was the payback he deserved for knocking Marty out. Meea ran across the floor yelling, “Did you see that…did you see that!” We both laughed and hugged while over 13,000 people in the arena cheered and applauded.
“That’s not quite what I had in mind but I like your version much better.” Meea laughed and was pumping her fist in victory. But it was the victory for her dive-bombers I think, and not the basketball team.
“They hit the right kid, in the right spot… from 50 feet up…do you believe it.” Yep …she’s celebrating the dive-bombers.
“I don’t want to know how you talked them into that, it was way disgusting.” I gave her a high five and a big hug again. We fit right in with the crowd’s celebration. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that the council members that attended were also celebrating in the stands, whether it was my group's win or the Saint's win, I couldn’t really tell… as long as everybody was happy.