Mr. Kamrad looked up from his teachers’ planning workbook and took off his reading glasses. He did not look surprised to see Cassidy. He motioned to the chair beside his desk.
“I think I know what this is about,” he said. “I heard two of the football coaches talking in the teachers’ lounge this morning.”
Cassidy nodded. He wasn’t sure he trusted his voice yet. He had sat in a numb trance through his last class. Then he was late to his next class because he was talking to Stiggs in the courtyard, not even caring that he was risking detention.
“Mr. Kamrad, I don’t get it. Stiggs and I were first-team all-county last year. I played in the state tournament. We missed the finals on a last-second shot. I’ve gotten letters from college coaches. Sure, things have been screwed up on the team this year, but I just . . .” He sat shaking his head, unable to continue.
“Quenton, if it makes you feel any better, as far as I can tell, a lot of people in this school are flabbergasted, too.”
“That’s something, I guess.”
“Well, I would offer to talk to Bickerstaff on your behalf, but the last time we tried that, things didn’t work out so well.”
“Maybe I could appeal to . . .”
Mr. Kamrad was shaking his head already.
“There isn’t any appeal. Principal Fleming might be sympathetic to you, but a head coach is like the captain of a ship. His word is law. There is nobody to appeal to. I mean, there is always the possibility of a full-blown mutiny by the team, but . . .”
“No, that would make things worse. Stiggs and Randleman wanted to get the guys together to discuss it, but I know exactly what would happen. Even if we could get every single player on the varsity to threaten to quit—which we can’t, by the way—he would just play the rest of the schedule with the JV team. They’d lose every game, but he’d do that before he would back down.”
“I suspect you’re right.” Mr. Kamrad still had his glasses off, squeezing the bridge of his nose between two fingers.
“Besides, Stiggs and Randleman have real scholarship possibilities on the line. Their whole futures are at stake,” said Cassidy.
“So is yours, Quenton.”
“I get that, believe me. I spent the last five years of my life pointing for this season, and it was all working. I started to get feelers from colleges last year—admittedly it was Rollins and Stetson and such—but this year was going to put me—put us all—on the map. Now it’s just blowing up in our faces. I don’t have a clue what’s going on with Coach Bickerstaff. We’ve been trying to do what he says, but most of it makes no sense.”
“Quenton, it’s only my personal opinion, but I suspect that very little of this has much if anything to do with basketball.”
“You mean that business back in junior high?”
“That’s part of it, I think.”
“But he said we were all over that. He even put up my time for a school record . . .”
“I’m not saying this is intentional on his part. I doubt he understands it himself. All I know is that when Trapper and I went to talk to him back then, we saw someone dealing with some personal problems, someone not very secure in his own skin. And someone who does not like to be contradicted or shown up. First he told you that you weren’t a basketball player, and you proved him wrong about that. He wanted you to run track back then, and you did. Then you got injured while running for him and he refused to acknowledge it. You proved him wrong again. Now he’s apparently in over his head in his new job. He wants to come off as a tough disciplinarian, so he doesn’t want you to miss practice for a cross-country race. But you go out and win it. Then you play your first basketball game for him and guess what? You’re doing it to him again.”
Cassidy made a low groan.
“It’s just armchair psychologizing on my part, of course,” Mr. Kamrad said, “but it seems to me that your whole relationship with this man has been one long process of showing him up.”
Cassidy let the breath out of his lungs.
“And the time before, when you two came to an impasse, you had an alternative. You made your point in an all-comers event. Now, though, there isn’t any all-comers basketball team to join.”
“Wow.”
“Right. But, you know, in the Chinese language the same symbol that means ‘danger’ also means ‘opportunity.’ ”
Cassidy grimaced. He was too young to be an aficionado of silver linings.
* * *
Stiggs and Randleman were waiting outside the Temporary Classroom Building as Cassidy left Mr. Kamrad’s room.
“You guys are going to be late to practice,” Cassidy said.
“Screw that,” said Randleman. “What did Mr. Kamrad say?”
Cassidy shrugged.
“Come on, he must have said something.”
“Yeah, it was all about this interesting symbol they have in Chinese that can have two different meanings. One meaning is ‘danger’ or ‘caution’ or something like that . . .”
“Uh-huh. Yeah?” Stiggs said, wary. Cassidy smiled at him.
“And the other meaning is ‘Comes with egg roll.’ ”