Beep—beep—beep. Max jumped out of bed and turned off his alarm. Today was a big day: it was the last basketball game of the season and the first to be played in the Shaquille O’Neal Memorial Basketball Court Complex. His high school had won a national education award granted by the Shaquille O’Neal Education Foundation and had been given the money to construct a new (and much needed) gymnasium. The construction had taken all year, but ‘The Shaq’, as the students referred to it, was finally completed. Max had been waiting for this day all year, often fearing it would never come—that his team would not survive the playoffs, that The Shaq would not be done in time. But here it was, the glorious day that would end with the game of the year.
“Good morning, Daddy!”said Max as he entered the kitchen. “Good morning, honey!” replied a large black woman.
“What’s for breakfast?” Max asked eagerly.
The woman laughed and said, “Why? Hungry?”
“Starved!”
“Well, grab a plate! I’ve got some eggs on the stove and some pancakes a’heaped that plate over there.”
Max, a short, pale boy with frizzy red hair, had been left on a doorstep as a newborn and the kind black woman he lived with had raised him as her own. She did the best she could to fill both roles—mother and father—and had always preferred the title of ‘Daddy’.
“Mmm! This is delicious! Thanks Dad!”
“Oh, you’re welcome, honey!” She winked at Max, “I know today is a big day for you, and I wanted to help make it special.”
“Yeah, I’m really excited about tonight!” said Max. “Can you pass the syrup?”
That evening, at ‘the Shaq’, as he and his team mates paraded on to the court, Max scanned the audience for Daddy, but also for Sarah, his girlfriend. Sarah and Max had been together all year, and Max was sure they were in love. Sarah Yeu was a slender Asian girl, and so graceful she seemed like the wind. She had what would seem to most an odd sense of fashion, but Max loved the way her clothes made her sparkle whenever she moved. She’s like a colorful sparkling wind, thought Max. Casually scanning the crowd (It’s so uncool to look like you care about the audience, thought Max) he spotted Daddy, and sitting next to her, Sarah. He waved at Sarah, but she was not looking and Daddy waved back instead. Max quickly looked around to see if any of his teammates had seen him wave, but they hadn’t. He was safe. The game was about to start and Max tried to focus.
* * *
There were several seconds left in the game. The score was tied. The ball came to Max and he dribbled it down the court blazing past everyone and faking out the one boy between him and the basket. Just as he lifted the ball to take the shot, he saw--out of the corner of his eye--his friend Kate jumping up and down and spilling her drink all over the floor in her excitement. This distracted Max so much that the ball somehow managed to spin out of his hands and his shot went bouncing weakly over to the left, as if he had merely dropped it and not taken a shot at all. The other players fought for the ball and it ended up getting lobbed up court by the other team. Just as the buzzer rang, there was a swoosh, and the ball sailed through the net, breaking the tie. The other team erupted in wild cheers, and Max’s heart sank and tears welled up in his eyes. It’s my fault we lost, thought Max as he blinked to keep from crying. I can’t believe I lost control of the ball. He bit his lip and walked toward the bench, where the rest of his team had already gathered.
“We may have lost the game,” Coach Joshua was saying, “But you guys are winners in my book. I’m proud of you anyway.” Coach Joshua was a Jewish man with a large nose—fond of working with wood and working with high school students.
“Losing is like sanding,” he continued “it’s rough, it hurts, but it’s the only way to polish anything. So even though you may have lost the game, I’m proud of how you lost: it’s polishing your character—which is far more important than any game. In ten years nobody will remember this game, but people will notice your character.”
“But coach,” one boy said, “what good is character if you suck?”
“Yeah, what good is it?” echoed a few more voices.
“Boys, good character is the only way to make sure that you don’t ‘suck’ at living. Character is about being good—which is more important than winning” said Coach Joshua.
“But why?” asked the same boy. “You don’t get into the NBA for being nice!”
Coach Joshua sighed and shook his head sadly.
The crowd was dispersing. Max greeted Daddy and Sarah coldly. They understood his disappointment and didn’t try to make him talk. As they walked out of the gym, Max saw Kate’s discarded cup and the sticky red stains on the floor and bleachers. It was too much for him. He started to cry and ran out the door, leaving Daddy and Sarah behind.
For the next week, Max was depressed and never spoke except to answer a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question. Daddy began to worry about him.
“Max? Listen, honey. It’s okay that you didn’t win the game.” Max looked up, but didn’t answer.
“It’s okay. You did your best--I’m proud of you, honey.” Max kept silent.
“It ain’t your fault. You need to learn to forgive yourself, deares’.”
“No” said Max as he got up. He went to his room and locked his door.
That night, Max came out of his room. He noticed that all the lights were off and that there was no sign of Daddy. In the restroom there was a note. It said,
Max, Meet me at the Shaq at 10 PM. I’d like to talk to you. –DSJ. Max thought, who the heck is DSJ? Is this some kind of joke? Max was going to tear the note up, but something restrained him. For some reason he wanted to go. It might be a joke, he reminded himself. Maybe my teammates are mad at me for making us lose. Or…or…maybe it’s something completely different. In the end, curiosity got the better of Max’s judgment, and he made up his mind to go.
The gym was dark and deathly silent. He walked in, stepping slowly to allow his eyes to adjust to the light.
“Hello?” he called into the darkness.
“Welcome, Max” spoke the darkness.
“Coach?” said Max.
“We’re over here Max” said another voice.
“Wait, is that you Sarah? What…why…I mean…what’s going on?” asked Max as he walked through the darkness.
After some 10 yards, Max began to see the dark figures of people standing at the far end of the gym. As he got closer, he heard Daddy’s voice say, “Max, we brought you here because love you and we’re concerned.”
“That’s right,” Coach Joshua said, “we wanted you to know that we understand your disappointment about the game.”
“Yeah,” said Sarah, “nobody’s mad at you. So you shouldn’t be mad at you either.”
“We still love you Max,” said Daddy.
Max was shocked speechless, but soon regained his composure and said, “But I made us lose the biggest game of the year!”
“We know Max,” said Coach Joshua.
“And you’re not upset?”
“No Max. We’ve always loved you,” said Daddy.
“Okay, um…thanks,” said Max. “Is all you brought me here to tell me? If it is, I’m going home.”
“Max,” said Coach Joshua, “when you’re building a house, what keeps the pieces together?”
“What? Oh, um…nails, I guess.”
“Right,” said Coach Joshua, “you can’t build a house without nails. Now, when you’re nailing something, the wood can respond in one of two different ways: it can either accept the nail, allow the nail to pass through cleanly and cleave the wood together, or it can splinter and crack when the nail is shot through. Which one, do you think, is sturdier? The one that accepted the nail or the one that splintered when the nail was hammered?”
Max started to say “Coach--”
“Nope! No questions, don’t object, just answer.”
“Fine. The one that didn’t splinter.”
“Right! Mistakes, pain, and disappointments are like nails. Whether or not you accept them and allow your house to be built is your decision, son.”
“Wait, did you just call me son?” asked Max.
“Yes, that’s the other thing we wanted to talk to you about” said Daddy.
“Oh, Max, it’s so exciting!” exclaimed Sarah.
“What’s going on?” asked Max. He was starting to feel sick. All this talk about dealing with disappointment wasn’t helping. In fact, he felt even worse now. And now with Coach Joshua calling him ‘son’ he thought he might throw up. Coach Joshua never called anybody ‘son’.
“Max,” said Daddy, “Joshua and I are getting married.”
“OH MY GOD!” screamed Max, frozen in horror.
“That’s right,” said Joshua, “God invented marriage, so your God will be a part of this, son. Your Daddy and I love you very much, and after we get married, you can call me Mom.”
“OH MY GOD!” screamed Max.
“What about me?” chimed Sarah. “Don’t forget about me!”
“That’s right! Do you want to tell him yourself, Sarah?” said Daddy.
Sarah took a deep breath. “Max! After Coach Joshua—er, I mean Mom—and Daddy get married, they’re going to adopt me!”
“WHAT?” Screamed Max, his voice rising even higher. “OH MY GOD! WHY? I didn’t know you were an orphan! You can’t do this! You’re my girlfriend—you can’t be my sister! That’s…like…so wrong!”
“Max, listen,” said Daddy, “we all love you very much and we all love each other very much. We all wanted to give you a family, to be able to love you more.”
“In fact, we want to be your god-family in addition to being your real family” said Mom.
“That’s right!” said Sarah, “we’re going to be your god family! And we’re three persons! How cool is that? Mom can be the Son, Daddy can be the Father, and I’m the Spirit!”
“OH MY GOD!” screamed Max.
“No, no. Oh my god-family!” corrected Daddy.
Everything started spinning. “Oh My God…” Max whimpered as he collapsed onto the ground.
“Yes Max, your god-family is here. Max, we’re all here! It’s okay!”
Beep—beep—beep! Max woke up with a start, and screamed “OH MY GOD!”
“Are you okay, honey?” called Daddy from the kitchen. The smell of bacon and eggs reached him. Today was the big day. It was to be their first game in The Shaq. Max sat up, doubled over, and threw up on the floor.
reaction one: sigh. i guess you have a point.
ReplyDeletereaction two: LOL
reaction three: but i really liked that book!
I hated that book, too...but loved your take on it! Thanks for the laugh.
ReplyDelete