As soon as the game against the Renegades ended, Diego told Coach Acevedo he wanted to talk to me away from the team. So Coach Acevedo walked Diego and me to the far end of the field house and told us to be back at court six in twenty minutes.
We sat side by side against the wall. Kids from a team called Front Street Fury were shooting at the basket in front of us. One kid had on a protective face mask. Another wore uniform number double zero. A third kid danced around like he was on America’s Got Talent whenever he didn’t have the ball.
“When I first got sick,” Diego started talking, “my moms was the one who told me news. Whenever there was any kind of update—good or bad—she was the one who told me. It was freaking me out because—”
“This is what you wanted to talk about?” I interrupted.
“Just listen.”
“Diego, if you think you’re going to cheer me up, you might as well—”
“Yo, just shut up for a sec.”
I paused. “Fine.”
“My moms was freaking me out because she wasn’t telling me everything, and I knew she wasn’t. But I needed to know everything because that’s how I deal with things.” Diego glanced my way. “You learn a lot about how you deal with things when you have cancer.”
“Sometimes you don’t sound like a kid.”
He laughed. “That’s another thing that happens when you have cancer. You spend so much time talking to grown-ups about grown-up things that you end up sounding like a grown-up even when you’re not talking to grown-ups.”
A ball bounded toward Diego. He leaned over and swatted it back onto the court. Face Mask scooped it up and waved thanks.
“My uncle saw how much my moms was freakin’ me out,” Diego said. “He stepped up and took over. Yo, my uncle saved me.”
“What did he do?”
Diego smiled. “He came up with the Gang of Three,” he said. “He showed up at the hospital one day in a gladiator costume. He brought costumes for me and my moms, and made us put them on, stand in the middle of my room, raise our swords, and—”
“Swords?”
“Yo, these costumes were tight! They had swords and shields and everything. So he had us raise our swords and make a pact: Whenever there was any kind of news, the Gang of Three all had to be present for it.”
“That’s pretty cool.”
Diego nodded. “When the doctors said I needed more chemo, we were all there to hear it. When I was running a fever, and my counts were low, and the doctor told us about the lockdown and how—”
“Lockdown?”
“It only happened one time. I couldn’t leave my room or have any visitors. It was during flu season.” Diego leaned forward and retied his sneaker. “Whenever there was news, I got to see their faces. That’s what I needed. My uncle did that. My uncle’s the best.”
“That’s what you said last night.”
“He is. Before I got sick, the only other kid I ever knew with cancer was this kid Silas, one of my uncle’s co-worker’s kids. But he died. So when I found out I had cancer, I thought I was going to die.”
“Not everyone dies from cancer,” I said.
“Ooh!” Diego pointed in my face. “You said the c-word!”
“So?”
“You’ve never said it before.”
“Yeah, I have.”
But I hadn’t. Not in front of Diego. Not even last night in the hotel room.
“It’s fine you don’t like saying it,” Diego said. “I know other people who don’t.”
“Not everyone dies from it.”
“Duh.” He bumped my shoulder. “I’m here.”
“I’m glad.”
“Me too.”
I bumped him back. “Cancer, cancer, cancer.”
He laughed. “That’s better.”
Another ball bounced our way. I caught it with both hands and threw it back to Dancing Man.
“Your father seems pretty cool, Rip,” Diego said. “He reminds me of my uncle.”
I pulled up my legs and wrapped my arms around my knees.
“What’s the deal with you and him?”
“Nothing,” I said.
“C’mon.” He bobbed his head. “I told you stuff. Now you tell me.”
“No.”
“You know you want to.” He poked my side. “C’mon.”
I tried not to smile. “Remember The Wizard of Oz?” I asked.
“I wasn’t there for it. That was right after I got sick.”
“Oh, my bad.”
“No, it’s fine. What about it?”
“That was the last time I saw my father.”
“Yo, that’s a long time ago.”
“I know.”
“You said he left in first grade.”
I nodded. “I hated it when he came back to visit. We always ended up having these huge family fights. I never wanted to see him. The Wizard of Oz was the last time.”
Another ball headed toward us. Diego sprang to his feet and scrambled after it. He scooped it up with one hand and flipped it to Double Zero.
“Your father’s back for good now?” Diego said.
“He’ll be back before the end of the year,” I said. “He’s here this week looking for a place to live.”
“Your moms says he’s not a bad guy.”
I unwrapped my arms from my knees and crossed my legs.
“Yo, you should listen to her,” Diego said. “Your moms knows things.”
I smiled. “It’s a little scary sometimes.”
“More than any mom I know! She helped me and my family so much. Remember that meeting with all the parents?” He poked my side again. “Cootie Man, Cootie Man!”
I bobbed my head like him. “My moms is the best.”
“Nice.”
“Life is about playing the cards you’re dealt,” I said. “That’s what she always tells me, but when it comes to my father, he—”
“He wants to be present, Rip,” Diego said, cutting me off. “Your dad wants to be present. Do you have any idea how many kids would give anything to have that?”
I let out a puff. “I know, but … he can’t leave again.” I gripped the back of my neck. “I hated it when he came to visit because … because I knew he was never staying. He was always leaving.” I looked at Diego. “I couldn’t stand to see him leave. It killed me. Each time, it killed me.” I let out another puff. “He can’t leave again.”
Diego rested his arm on my shoulder. “He’s not going anywhere.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Actually, I do.” He bobbed his head and smiled still again. “Yo, that’s another thing you learn when you have cancer. You learn people—who’s showing up and who’s not. Trust me, your father wants to be here. He’s not going anywhere.”
“Do you know … Do you ever see your father?” I asked.
“He only liked being around for the good parts. Not the other stuff. The way I see it, my uncle is my real dad.” He lifted his arm off my shoulder. “Yo, sorry for all the ‘who’s your daddy’ stuff.”
“What do you mean?”
“I say that to you all the time.”
“I say it, too.”
“I’m not going to anymore. It’s not cool.” He held out his fist.
I tapped it with the back of my knuckles.
“You know what I wish?” Diego said. “I wish I had a best friend like you do.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I wish I had a best friend. Like you and Red.”
“You’re friends with everyone, Diego.”
“Friendly,” he said, “not friends. There’s a big difference. What you and Red have … Speak of the devil.” He pointed across the floor.
Red and Ms. Yvonne were on the other side of the court.
“There you are!” Red shouted. He charged our way.
Ms. Yvonne waved and headed off.
“Hi, Mason Irving. Hi, Diego Vasquez.” He grabbed a chair from the scorer’s table and dragged it over. “What are you doing?”
Diego gave him a double pound. “We’re talking about toenail clippers.”
“Huh?” I said.
Red sat down. “Why are you talking about toenail clippers?”
“My uncle has ten pairs of toenail clippers,” Diego said, grinning. “One for each toe.”
“No way,” I said.
“Why does your uncle have one pair of toenail clippers for each toe?” Red asked.
“No idea,” Diego answered. “I know all of my relatives’ weird habits. Even the weird habits I don’t want to know.”
“Is that another thing you learn when you have cancer?” I asked.
“You know it!”
“Have you decided if you’re coming to the Showdown, Mason Irving?” Red asked.
I made a face. “What do you mean?”
“Have you decided if you’re coming to the Showdown?”
“I’m right here.”
“But you haven’t been here, Mason Irving, and Clifton United needs you here. Clifton United needs you to show up.”
Diego stomped his feet. “Yo, I couldn’t have timed that any better if I tried.” He double-high-fived Red and then put his arm back on my shoulder. “That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“I came to the Showdown,” Red said. “You have to be here, too.”
“Thanks, Red,” I said.
“Thanks for what, Mason Irving?”
“For everything.”
“See?” Diego pointed at Red and me. “This is what I wish I had.”
“You do,” I said. “We’re like the Gang of Three.”
“The Gang of Three!” Red said. “I like that, Mason Irving. I like that, Diego Vazquez. The Gang of Three.”