Free Break for the Basket by Matt Christopher

1
    E MMETT DRIBBLED THE BALL in a fast break toward the basket. He lifted his right knee, sprang off his left foot, and pushed the ball up gently against
     the backboard. The ball banked through the hoop, struggled through the shriveled net, and dropped to the bare, hard ground.
    Again Emmett got the ball. He dribbled toward the baseline, stopped, and pivoted back and forth on his left foot, pretending
     that he was faking a guard.
    There was no guard — there were no players at all. Emmett was playing alone. He just pretended there were others, because
     it was a lot more fun that way.
    Emmett rocked back and forth on his pivot foot. Then he turned and leaped, lifting the ball high in an overhand shot for the
     basket. The ball arched gracefully. It struck the rim and bounced off. Emmett dashed for the rebound, caught it, and leaped
     for a layup. Swish! Basket.
    He paused awhile, dribbling the ball high and easily so that he wouldn’t have to bend over. He had been playing ever since
     he arrived home from school. Hewasn’t tired, though — just hungry, and a little lonesome. It really wasn’t fun just to play by yourself all the time.
    He left the ball on the frozen ground and went into the house. He was thirsty. He drank a glass of water, then looked at the
     clock above the kitchen sink. It was ticking away noisily, the only sound inside the big, quiet house.
    Ten minutes of four. He sighed. Mom and Dad wouldn’t be home for another half hour.
    Emmett opened the refrigerator and looked at the food inside. He saw nothing he wanted. He closed the door. Then he placed
     a chair in front of the refrigerator, stood on the chair and opened the doors of the cabinet. He took out a box of crackers,
     pulled out a handful and returned the box. The crackers would hold him until Mom cooked supper.
    He started to munch on the crackers when a sound outside drew his attention. He ran outdoors, slamming the door behind him,
     and then stopped as if he had struck a brick wall. A young blond-haired boy was playing with Emmett’s basketball, dribbling
     it all over the court and shooting at the basket. Emmett’s heart began to pound.
    Emmett knew the boy. Then again, he wasn’t sure whether he did or not. Mickey Dunbar, and Robin Dunbar were twins who lived
     a couple of blocks away. They looked so much alike hardly anyone could tell which was which.
    Emmett guessed that this was Robin — Robin Hood, as everybody called him. Robin Hood and Mickey were identical in looks —
     from their short, stocky builds to their blond brush cuts but they were as different as night and day in other ways. Robin
     Hood was mischievous and happy-go-lucky. Mickey was quiet and serious.
    Emmett didn’t think that Mickey would pick up a basketball in a strange yard and start playing by himself. But Robin Hood
     would.
    The boy sank a hook shot. As he turned under the backboard, he saw Emmett and a grin came across his round, pink-cheeked face.
    “Hi!” he said. “This your ball?”
    “Yes, it is,” said Emmett.
    Those hunger pangs were quickly gone. It wasn’t the crackers that did it. He had eaten only one. The others were still in
     his hand. What did it was his shyness. He always became very shy every time someone whom he didn’t know very well came near
     him, or talked to him.
    “I’m Robin Hood Dunbar,” the boy said. “You’ve seen me at school, haven’t you? I’ve seen you.”
    “I thought it was you.” Emmett grinned a little. “I wasn’t sure at first.”
    Robin Hood laughed. “Boy, I didn’t know you had a spot like this. This is neat.”
    Emmett finished chewing the cracker and swallowed it. He looked at the other crackers in his hand, then pressed them into
     his coat pocket.
    Robin kept playing by himself. He tried pivot shots, hook shots, and set shots. He seldom made them, but he was certainly
     enjoying himself.
    “Boy, he’s got nerve,” Emmett thought. And he hardly knows me! I wish he’d go away. He has no