The campfire was just ending when Tim returned. He managed to slip into the crowd unnoticed. Billy was already in their room when he reached the cabin.
“Where’ve you been?” Billy demanded.
Tim explained about Wanda and the clown puppet.
“If Wanda hadn’t turned on the lights just then, I would have been right behind you,” he added so that his friend wouldn’t feel embarrassed at having fled. “That clown is beyond creepy!”
Then he told Billy about the idea the puppet had given him. When he was done, Billy nodded thoughtfully.
“You might as well give it a try,” Billy said. “If the kids go for it, great. If not”—he shrugged—“what’s the worst that can happen?”
The next morning after breakfast, Tim arrived at the basketball courts carrying white sheets he’d gotten from the arts and crafts center, plus a handful of clothespins. Mike and his mentees were already hard at work at one end of the courts. When Tim saw them, he almost changed his mind about putting his new plan into action.
What’s the worst that can happen? he echoed Billy’s question from the previous night. I can make a fool of myself in front of Gruber again, that’s what!
Then Keanu raced past him, arms outstretched and making zooming noises, and Tim decided he might as well try it after all.
Tim called his boys together. “We’re going to work on defensive positioning today,” he told them. He expected them to groan—and he wasn’t disappointed.
“We already did that,” Red complained.
“Yeah, well, today we’re going to do it differently. Keanu, come here.” When the boy came forward, Tim pinned a sheet around his neck.
Keanu opened his eyes wide. “Cool!” he cried, twisting around to admire his new apparel.
Red and Peter jumped up and demanded capes of their own. Tim put one around each of their necks and let Red tie one around his own neck, too. Then he turned to Keanu. “Show me what a superhero looks like when he takes off to fly.”
Keanu’s arms snapped straight up over his head.
“Freeze!”
Keanu froze.
“This is how you should look when you’re guarding a shooter,” Tim said. “When your arms are up, it’s a whole lot harder for him to get the shot off. And as you know,” he improvised, “superheroes have to jump to take off. So do basketball players who are defending the hoop.”
He held his arms overhead and jumped as if blocking a shot. The boys imitated him. As they did, Tim noticed one of Mike’s kids watching them.
Tim beckoned Red, Peter, and Keanu closer. “I think we need a secret code name for this move,” he said in a low voice. “How about ‘take off’? Whenever you hear it, put your arms up and jump. Okay?”
“Okay!” all three whispered conspiratorially.
“Then let’s try it. Take off!”
The boys thrust their arms up high and jumped straight up as if reaching for the sky.
Tim stepped back as if amazed. “Wow! For a minute there, I thought you really were about to fly!”
The boys giggled. Then Red raised his hand. “I know another move we can do!” He got into a low crouch, gathered the ends of his cape into his hands, and held his arms out at a downward angle—the classic defender’s position.
“Good!” Tim praised. “What’s its code name?”
“‘Shield,’” Red answered immediately, “because a superhero would hold his cape like this to shield someone behind him.”
“But what if the person he was protecting was moving around?” Tim prodded.
Red thought for a minute. Then, still in his crouch and with his cape held out, he sidestepped one way and then the other.
Tim grinned broadly. “Yes! And that’s just what you guys have to do whenever you’re on defense. Low stance, arms wide, and sidestep—shield!”
“I’ve got one!” Peter said excitedly. “Remember when you said we should keep our eyes glued to our man’s middle, because wherever his gut goes, he’ll go?”
Tim was pleased to know that something he’d said had sunk in. “That’s right. Your guy can fake you out of position with other parts of his body—his head and arms, or by stutterstepping, for example. But it’s nearly impossible to move your midsection one way while you’re going another. Believe me, I’ve tried to do it! So what’s your thought, Peter?”
Peter pointed two fingers at his eyes and then touched them to Tim’s middle. “ ‘Laser vision’! We pretend to bore a hole right through our guy.” He narrowed his eyes, stared at Tim’s belly button, and made a sizzling sound with his lips.
They all laughed. Then Tim paired Peter with Keanu and Red with himself. “Let’s test out our codes.” He told Peter to pretend to dribble. To Keanu and Red, he said, “Shield!”
The two defenders immediately dropped into a defender’s stance.
“Laser vision!”
Red stared so hard at Tim’s stomach that Tim swore he could actually see smoke rising from that spot. He leaned over then and whispered something in Peter’s ear. Straightening, he gave Peter a nod and said, “Ready? Go!”
Peter took off, dribbling an imaginary ball. Keanu looked startled but recovered quickly. A few rapid sidesteps put him between Peter and the basket.
“Shield,” Tim heard him mutter. “Laser vision!”
And when Peter jumped as if to shoot, Keanu jumped, too, whipping his hands above his head and mouthing, “Take off!”
Red jumped up and down. “Is it our turn now?” he asked eagerly.
Tim nodded. Satisfaction spread through his body as Red followed him step for step to the hoop.
The satisfaction faded a moment later, however. That’s when he saw Mike’s kids working through a complex drill sequence at the other end of the courts. Mike stood to one side, but he wasn’t looking at his threesome. He was watching Tim. Even from a distance, Tim could see the scorn in his face.
Tim suddenly saw his mentees through Mike’s eyes. Compared to Mike’s kids, Red, Peter, and Keanu looked like guests at a superhero-themed birthday party. All that was missing was the cake and ice cream.
With that thought, he reached up to remove his cape. But a small hand stopped him. He looked down to see Keanu grinning up at him.
“This is the best practice ever!” the boy cried.
Tim stared at him. Then, with a broad smile, he tightened the knot at his throat and silently vowed not to let Mike ruin the beginning he’d made that day.
And he better watch out at practice, too!