KIM missed basketball practice Monday night because he had to rehearse with the choir.
After rehearsal Mrs. Kelsey said, “Starting on Thursday, two weeks before Easter Sunday, we will learn some new hymns. I hope none of you will miss any of those rehearsals. Easter is an extra-special day. We’ll want our choir to sing extra-special too. Right?”
“Right!” everyone answered almost together.
The following morning thick flakes of snow dropped lazily from the sky. It was about six inches deep on the sidewalk, and soft as swan’s-down.
Kim met Jane Armbruster on the street corner and they walked to school together. Jane was in his grade.
“What beautiful snow!” she cried happily. “I think I’ll go skiing tonight at the park!”
Her cheeks were almost as red as her snowsuit.
“If I had skis I’d go too,” Kim said.
She turned big dark eyes to him. A snowflake fell on her nose. “You can use mine! We can take turns!”
He shook his head. “No, thanks. I can’t ski, anyway.”
“You can learn!”
He didn’t know how to tell her that he didn’t want to go because she was a girl. Of course, if Jimmie Burdette or some of the other boys went he would go. Anyway, he decided, he wouldn’t want to borrow her skis. He would certainly be teased then!
Bang! A snowball hit him on the shoulder!
He heard a laugh behind him. Another snowball brushed his sleeve and buried itself in the snow on the sidewalk.
“All right, Ron!” he yelled.
It was Ron Tikula and Dutchie McBride, grinning like Cheshire cats. They were making more snowballs.
“Let’s run!” Jane said.
“Run, nothing!” cried Kim. “I’ll give it right back to them! Here—take my books!”
She took his books. He bent over and scooped up a handful of snow, quickly formed it into a hard-packed ball, and threw it at Ron. Ron tried to dodge, but he couldn’t move fast enough in the deep snow and the snowball hit him.
“Good shot!” Jane said.
The boys threw snowballs back and forth for a minute. Then Ron shouted, “Okay! We’ve had enough!”
He and Dutchie cheerfully came up to Jane and Kim. Ron wore a leather jacket and a hat with ear flaps. Dutchie had on a navy-blue pea jacket. His hat was somewhat like Ron’s.
“Going to the clinic, Kim?” Ron asked. He was nice, now. Maybe it was because Jane was with them.
“What clinic?” said Kim.
“The basketball clinic. The Lions are putting it on tomorrow night. Oh, that’s right. You weren’t at our practice last night. Coach Stickles told us about it.”
Kim’s forehead creased. “What’s a basketball clinic?”
“Don’t you know?” Dutchie said. “It’s where they teach you how to play basketball.”
“Maybe Kim thinks he knows enough about it already.” Ron was poking fun at him.
Kim glared at Ron. He took the books from Jane.
“Thanks, Jane,” he said quietly.
Then he looked at Ron and Dutchie. “Are you guys going?”
“The coach said that everybody should go,” Ron said. “My father’s taking me.”
“I’m going with Ron,” Dutchie said.
“Well—I’d like to go too,” admitted Kim. “I sure would!”