Sooley(50)

After a languid brunch, Ernie and the boys cleaned the kitchen, then settled into the den for a long afternoon of NFL playoffs. Watching football with Sooley was painful because he wouldn’t shut up. He questioned everything about the game and seemed to absorb none of it.

Miss Ida left them to go shopping.



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·?·?·

At seven Wednesday morning, Samuel eased through the kitchen and waited in the garage for the weekly call from Christine Moran. It came fifteen minutes late, and she explained that their phone system was not working properly and minutes were scarce. Could he please limit the call to ten minutes? He said sure and thanked her as always, then heard the soft voice of his mother. “Merry Christmas, Samuel.”

“Merry Christmas to you, Mother. How are you?” He closed his eyes and shook his head and wondered how anyone living in a tent in a refugee camp could possibly think about passing along season’s greetings. He could not imagine how hopeless and depressing the holidays must be, and he could not help but think of their last Christmas together as a family.

She said James and Chol were doing well in school and still talking about Coach Ecko Lam’s surprise visit the week before. They were proudly wearing their Central caps and tee shirts and were the envy of the neighborhood. The fact that their older brother was in America playing basketball gave them an elevated status. Beatrice promised to say a prayer for Samuel during Christmas Mass, and he promised to remember them too. He couldn’t forget them and told his mother he thought of them every minute of the day.

The call was too brief and when it ended, Samuel sat in a lawn chair, in the darkness, and longed for his family.



* * *



·?·?·

Their church was packed for the Christmas Eve service, a remarkable celebration that Samuel enjoyed. The preacher throttled back and gave a shorter sermon. The youth group, in full costume, performed a Nativity skit. The children’s choir, in matching burgundy robes, stole the show with their carols. The adult choir rattled the windows with “Go Tell It on the Mountain” and “The Holy Baby.” Jordan explained to Samuel, in a whisper, that the songs had been handed down by generations of African Americans.



* * *



·?·?·

Late the next morning, the family gathered around the tree and exchanged gifts. The pile included clothes for the boys, jeans and casual shirts for school, and perfume and a gold necklace for Jordan. Samuel’s big gift was a navy blazer, his first. Jordan gave him a beautiful necktie. He was overwhelmed by their generosity and almost speechless at the number of gifts. He had managed to save a few bucks and had surprises of his own: a bottle of perfume for Miss Ida, a large chef’s apron for Ernie, a leather belt for Murray, and for Jordan, a set of small earrings that she immediately put on. They were touched by his thoughtfulness and felt guilty for receiving the gifts, but they did nothing to dampen his spirits.

By the time the gifts were all finally unwrapped they were famished. Jordan put on a CD of Christmas songs as the family moved to the kitchen where every Walker tried to assume command.





CHAPTER 34





The holiday break came to a dreadful end the day after Christmas when the players dragged themselves back to campus for what was expected to be a painful three-hour practice. The coaches were waiting like drill sergeants. Coach Britt’s speech began with the unnecessary reminder that they were off to a less than impressive start. Three wins against pushovers, and six losses, two of which should have been avoided. They were better than Campbell, and he took responsibility for that loss. They had a good East Carolina team on the ropes and let them escape. The embarrassing blowout at Howard was inexcusable.

After a fifteen-minute smackdown, he changed his tone and insisted that they put their losses behind them. They had 21 games left, 17 in conference, 9 of those were at home. The games that mattered were ahead of them, and they would waste no more time thinking about their slow start.

The players were with him, but they were also thinking of more pressing matters. On Monday, they would fly to New York City for the rare treat of playing in a holiday tournament against other HBCUs—Historically Black Colleges and Universities. The games would be at Madison Square Garden and most would be televised on one of the ESPN channels. Over a five-day span, Central would play Grambling from Louisiana, Prairie View from Texas, and Fisk from Nashville.

Lonnie talked about the trip, the tournament, and their opponents, all of whom had winning records. In late November, Fisk had manhandled Howard in Washington, on the same court where Central had laid an egg only a week earlier. But enough of the past. His scouting report portrayed the three teams as virtually unbeatable, of near NBA proportions.

It was part pep talk, part fear-mongering, and it left the players unsettled. But they were headed to a big show and were determined to play well. When he blew the whistle they hit the court to stretch and limber up, and then they started running. Their coaches seemed determined to sweat out all the turkey and dressing, pecan pies, fudge brownies, Christmas cakes, and the rest of Grandma’s holiday cooking. Fifteen minutes into the wind sprints, the first player vomited.

Driving to the gym, Murray said that he needed to see Robin and would it be okay if Sooley got lost after practice. They needed the privacy of the dorm room. Sooley said sure. He had never said no. Then Murray went on about how nice it would be if she could sleep over. There was a sofa in the commons on their dorm’s first floor, and, well, what do you say, roommate? Sooley smiled and shrugged and said whatever.