Chapter 1
Thump, thump, thump, the ball bounced up and down from his hand. As he closed the distance to the basket, the dribble only got faster, nastier. The ball danced lightly from his hands, to the ground , back to his hands, around his back, through his legs and back again. Making figure eights, then intricate series of twists and turns, as if the ball was on a string. Like a drum solo, the beats would get faster, slow down, only to speed up again. His feet moved in concert with the ball, like Jazz musicians, improvising on the spot, never out of sync. And it was like music, only you could see it, more so than hear it. What was even more fascinating was that he never looked down at the ball. Ever.
There was no one on the court to bother Lee, and that's was understood. Of course, it was six in the morning; everyone was just now getting ready for school. That was fine with Lee. He liked having the court to himself. There would be no human defense today. No, the defense consisted of the imperfections in the ground, the winds, the phantom players that Lee imagined would be there.
The cool morning air chilled Lee, pressing the cold sweat soaked t-shirt to his chest, raising goose-bumps, trying it's best to distract him somehow, but to no avail.
As Lee toed the three-point arc, he peered at his phantom defenders over the rim of his glasses, and past them at the basket. With his right hand, he steadied the dribble to a leisurely pace, and with his left, swiped the sweat from his eyes and pushed his glasses up higher on to his nose, and looked at the basket one more time, then turned his attention to his defender. He bent his knees, lowering his center of gravity. Then, he took off.
He speeded up the dribble, pushing the rhythm. He put the ball into a series of maneuvers, slaloming through his legs, his arms snaking out to reel the ball back like the tentacles of an octopus, toying with his prey.
Lee put the ball through his legs, right to left, and juked his body left, then exploded to his right, lowering his body more, crossing over back to his right. The process took no more than a second. Wasting no time, he closed the distance to about ten feet from the basket. Stopping short, he jumped and pulled away from the hoop. Twisting his body in the air to square himself to the hoop, he cocked the ball back near his forehead and extended his right arm, releasing the ball, snapping his wrist down so the ball had plenty of back spin. The ball looped lazily towards the basket and sank into the rim silently. Lee landed lightly on his feet, backpeddling slightly to keep his balance. When he straightened up, he smiled in satisfaction, and running his hand through his short black hair, walked to pick up the ball which had now stopped bouncing and settled timidly on the ground.
It went so for about a half-hour more, and when Lee went to his bag to check his watch, it read 6:46 A.M. with school starting in less than 15 minutes.
He took his sweat-soaked shirt off and wiped the sweat from his forehead, neck and chest. Savoring the cool air against his slightly moist skin, Lee admired the sunrise. The sun had begun to peek over the east side of the basketball court, the right hand side when Lee was facing the basket he was just playing on. Oh, geez, I'm gonna be late. Pulling on a fresh t-shirt and over it a dress shirt and his school uniform and putting his slacks on right over his shorts, Lee checked his watch again, and smiled. Six fifty... Plenty of time. Tightening his shoelaces, Lee slipped on his backpack and took off towards the school.
