Free Arctic Thunder by Robert Feagan

him that one of the best ways to break through barriers and make friends was through sports. With that in mind he had signed up for intramural basketball. He knew from gym class that he matched up pretty well with the other guys skill-wise, so he didn’t figure he had any embarrassment in store for him. Donnie thought it was a pretty good idea, too. He told Mike that sometimes people were a little slow to accept newcomers from the South, but once they showed they were regular guys, everything was usually okay. It was the “usually” part that worried Mike.
    On Friday, Mike checked the bulletin board outside the gym and saw he’d been placed on what looked like a pretty good team. Apparently, they played three games at a time across the gym instead of lengthwise — four players aside, eight players per team. Two twenty-minute games were played during lunchtime. He knew Mitchell Firth, Tommy Aleekuk, and Tyler Snowshoe from gym class, and they were all quite good. Tommy was Inuvialuit and a superb athlete. Despite his short, stocky stature, he was an amazing jumper. Mike had been astounded when Tommy, who wasn’t even a metre and half tall, had touched the rim with his fingers just fooling around in gym class.
    After changing into shorts and a T-shirt, Mike wandered into the gym and spotted his group getting ready on the first court. He recognized some of the guys on the other team and remembered from the standings that were posted outside the gym that they were in second place overall, while Mike’s team was in fifth. They must be good. After awkward nods and “Heys!” from his guys, Mike sat down and watched the first shift.
    It was really fast-paced, and it was clear that Tommy and Bobby Vittrekwa from the other team were the two best players on the floor. Tommy was incredibly quick. Short and muscular, his compact strength, much like Mike’s, made him hard to stop. And what a jumper! He would leave the floor in mid-stride and soar waist-high on his opponents before releasing the ball to the net. Once he was airborne, he seemed to hang in slow motion the way Michael Jordan and LeBron James did in the DVDs Mike had seen.
    Bobby was smooth as glass. Long-limbed and fluid in his stride, he was Gwich’in Dene and originally from Fort McPherson. Once he was running, he seemed to mesmerize anyone he matched up against. His long strides made him deceptive, and though he didn’t seem fast, he’d flow past the guys on Mike’s team as if they were standing still. He also had the uncanny knack of knowing exactly where he was in relation to the net. Without looking over his shoulder he’d blindly spin in the air and seemingly release the ball before he focused on the hoop, making it fall through the net with a swoosh .
    Mike did well, posting up and dropping the ball through several times on each of his first few shifts. He could sense the guys warming up to him as they became more aware of his ability and skill on the court. On more than one occasion Tommy slapped Mike’s hand as he ran back after sinking a basket, smiling and nodding as they passed. Bobby, too, was a good sport and grinned and shook his head a couple of times when Mike kept him away from the net.
    The game came down to the last possession, and when Mike made a blind pass behind his back to Tommy, who left his feet and finger-rolled the ball in, the guys jumped off the bench and whooped with excitement.
    â€œYou da man!” Donnie yelled from the stands. Mike’s new friend leaped to his feet, arms in the air, eyes on the verge of exploding behind his glasses.
    It was the game winner, and everybody high-fived before they shook hands with the other team.
    Bobby didn’t take Mike’s hand as they came together. Instead, he nodded and patted Mike on the shoulder. “You got game, buddy. The rest of the year’s going to be a whole lot different with you and Tommy playing together. It was