War Room Read Online Free Page B

had calmed somewhat about it.
    Michael sat next to him and gave him a slack-jawed look. “You all right, dog?”
    “Yeah,” Tony said. “Why?”
    “You looked like you played a little mad tonight.”
    Michael was a good player, quick and able to see the whole court. But he didn’t have the killer instinct.
    “So? It just means I play better,” Tony said.
    “Better means ball hog? Dude, I can’t get a pass from you. It’d be easier to baptize a cat.”
    “I just needed to blow off a little steam, okay?”
    “Well, I hope you’re done.”
    Tony smiled. Michael was right, but he was also jealous. There were some who had it and some who didn’t. On the court and in life.
    “Anyway, it’s cool, man,” Michael said. “We all gotta do that sometime.”
    Tony could tell Michael was opening the door to talk about why he needed to blow off steam, and part of him wanted to go there. But he thought better of it, especially with somebody from church. The stuff about his family, his marriage   —all of that was best kept to himself. And there were other things beneath the surface, steam rising from different places in his life he couldn’t let escape. Not with somebody like Michael. Not with anybody, really.
    “Yo, see you in church, right?” Michael said.
    “Maybe.”
    “Maybe means no.”
    Which was true. A maybe in a sale meant no. You kept pushing until you got a yes. But church didn’t hold much interest for Tony. He saw it as a necessary evil. Something that tied up his Sunday mornings but was good for the family, good for his marriage, and supposedly good for hissoul. Networking. He made contacts there and kept his image intact.
    It was just that church had become a guilt trip. He felt bad when he was there, as if something was off-kilter down in his heart, and sitting in the pew looking at all the people with their lives together   —perfect kids and perfect marriages   —pointed out how much he didn’t have. But when he didn’t go, he got the glare from Elizabeth.
    “Hey, Tony, you gotta hit me one,” a player from the other team said as he was leaving.
    “Come on, man, I gotta go,” Tony said, smiling.
    The guy stuck his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the players behind him. “Dude, I just told all these guys. Just one.”
    He knew what the guy was talking about and it had nothing to do with basketball. He wanted to tell them he was tired. He wanted to just walk out. But everybody was turned now. He was onstage.
    Tony tossed his gym bag and towel to the floor and looked at the players as if to say, Watch this carefully. I’m only doing it once. He braced himself, tightened the muscles in his legs, and let the memory work. From a standing position he jumped, flipped in the air, and landed perfectly on his feet with his arms tucked into his body.
    The new guys stood with their mouths open. The ones who’d seen it before clapped and cheered.
    “I told you!” the player yelled.
    Michael shook his head and Tony grabbed his stuff.
    As he reached the door, Ernie Timms came into the gym flipping through a stack of pages. He was a thin man with wisps of hair he tried to comb over, but that wasn’t working for him. He’d been the director of the community center for a few years and things weren’t going well. It always seemed like there was some crisis they were trying to avert with funds or programs.
    “What’s up, Ernie?” Tony said, noticing the man seemed a bit flustered.
    “Hey, Tony. Do you know how long you guys reserved the gym tonight?”
    “I think it was till nine thirty,” Tony said. “Why?”
    Ernie frowned. “Oh, boy. I think we’ve double-booked it. Okay, so . . . okay. Thanks.”
    Clueless. The guy was always walking around in some kind of daze. Tony was determined not to be like Ernie.

Miss Clara

    Clara was in the produce aisle at Harris Teeter, trying to choose the right size tomato, when Clyde dropped the bomb. Her son took her shopping each week and spent