8.
Stefani’s ball handling, rebounding, and passing kept improving under Jay’s tutelage. She became more willing to work as she saw improvement, and partly due to Bonita’s encouragement. As Jay caught his breath, he watched Stefani and Bonita play one-on-one. Bonita won easily every time. Stefani still refused to mix it up with her under the basket, thought she was less averse to snagging rebounds off the backboard and the rim. Bonita, on the other hand, played fearlessly, snatching every rebound and chasing after loose balls with fierce veracity.
Jay wanted to reward his pupils the Saturday after they got the word about their tryouts. He deliberately chose the Lincoln Diner to explore Lincoln Square, the economic hub of downtown Gettysburg, before treating them to lunch. Decked out in bright lights for late fall, the Square’s parking meters were covered by request from downtown businesses, hoping for better holiday season sales. A rotary, not an intersection, moved traffic along, but cars and trucks drove by too fast for drivers and passengers to notice the retail business on the corners. A focal point on the Square for the licensed tour guides, The Visitor, a near life-sized sculpture of Abe Lincoln as the Great Tour Guide helped a lost twentieth-century tourist read a map. However, the main square was small enough that patrons, townie or tourist, would never feel lost.
Arriving early, Jay checked out the old Gettysburg train station where Abraham Lincoln arrived to dedicate the Soldiers National Cemetery. Thoroughly renovated, a former army hospital during the Civil War, the intricate details of the renovations impressed Jay, but he also felt sickened by the photographs of dead soldiers lined up like cordwood as they lay to be identified before burial.
Jay became so absorbed in the exhibits that he almost forgot to head across the street for lunch. He entered the diner scant seconds before his prodigies arrived. Like the station, the Lincoln Diner had undergone renovations, but those details stopped at the chrome-plated facade. The faded wallpaper and chrome trim inside still needed attention. Jay found a booth and squinted through a dirty sunlit window as Bonita parallel-parked her old Chevy. She got out after Stefani slammed the passenger door. Jay watched as Bonita walked around the car and put a hand on Stefani’s shoulder to console her, but Stefani slapped it away. Her cheeks aglow, Bonita walked through the diner entrance. Stefani didn’t bother to hide her misery.
“Hey Doc, I need my protein and carbs,” said Bonita. She grabbed a menu from behind the compact juke box and softly sang a hip-hop tune that Jay didn’t recognize. Stefani stared silently out the window.
“What’s the matter, Stef?” Jay asked.
“She’s a back-up—again,” said Bonita. She slapped her friend on the shoulder to redirect her attention.
"No way I’m playing behind Megan. All she does is kiss Hughes’ ass," Stefani argued.
“Shhhh, Stef! People are eating.” Bonita stuck a menu in front of Stefani’s face to block her from passers-by.
“Keep up that attitude, Stef. You'll ride the bench all season,” Jay said.
“Stef’s right, Doc. Coach Hughes handed Megan the job with no thought, no thought at all. Believe me, Stef did all she could to win the job. She played defense like she never had before, better than Megan.”
Bonita and Jay stared at Stefani, still grumbling under her breath as the waitress came to take their orders.
" Nothing I can do, Bonita. He’s your coach,” Jay said.
“Doc, please,” Bonita said, reaching across the table, grabbing his elbow. “You gotta help. C’mon down to school. Tell Coach Hughes what Stef can do.”
“I’m sorry, Bonita. I’m really busy.” He pulled his elbow away slowly, but gently.
Bonita sighed. “Yeah, Doc, guess you are. Come see us play, if you get the time”
“I’ll try.”
Somehow, Jay felt, this mentor relationship was not going to end. No doubt Alben Baker would stop by the bank and report regularly about his daughter’s progress, or lack thereof. Jay paid and shook hands with Bonita like a principal about to hand her a diploma. He offered his hand to Stefani, too, but she refused to accept it.
“What’s with you?” said Bonita. “Be nice. Shake his hand.”
“All that work for nothing,” Stefani groused. “I pushed that cow all over the court, and she gets the starting job?”
“What are you talking about? You’re on the team. Play your way into the games.” Bonita playfully squeezed Stefani’s elbow. “Shake the man’s hand--right now. He made you better and you know it.”
Stefani shook Jay’s hand limply, like a First Colonial customer who was just denied a loan.