put his hand on her arm. “Let him tell me what he did,” he said gently.
The hand the teenager had been dealt the past few years was one most adults would want to walk away from, and Peter hurt for the teenager. But the kid had his whole life ahead of him, and in this particular circumstance, having him own up to what he did was the only way Peter knew to help him.
Tyler drew circles on the paper in front of him. Peter waited. When the boy looked up, Peter raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.
Tyler huffed. “I unscrewed the top of the pepper shaker at the teachers’ table. One of the basketball players ratted me out. Shoot, Coach Dawson doesn’t even taste his food before he grabs the salt and pepper.”
Peter clamped his jaw to keep from grinning. “Why?”
The teen looked down. Finally, he lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “Coach wouldn’t let me even try out for the team. Said I should’ve come three months ago with everybody else. Not my fault I wasn’t here, yet.”
“Did you tell him that?”
He shook his head. “He’s the coach, he ought to know.”
“Well, he might not,” said Peter. “So, you don’t see anything wrong with what you did?”
The teenager averted his gaze. Again the half shrug. “Maybe it was a dumb thing to do.”
“Maybe?”
“All right. It was a dumb thing to do, and I won’t do it again.”
“That’s better. Have you written the coach an apology?”
Tyler slid an envelope from the papers on the table. “Along with five pages of ‘I won’t unscrew the top of the pepper shaker again.’”
Peter took out the paper and looked over the apology.
I’m sorry I unscrewed the pepper shaker and ruined your lunch. It won’t happen again.
Tyler Bennett
“You’ll give it to him tomorrow?”
“I can’t go back to school until Thursday.”
Maybe Peter could do something about that. “Okay.”
He turned to Sarah. “Show me what needs fixing.”
They walked into the living room first, and she pointed out the light switches and receptacles that needed replacing. “Like I said, I put out a call for some volunteers this Saturday. The warm weather is supposed to hold until late afternoon before it rains and turns cold. If enough people show up, maybe we can knock out every bit of this.”
Peter looked at the list again. He could replace the receptacles, but it’d probably be faster to hire an electrician. Everything else could be done by the volunteers. “You’re a genius. How many people did you contact?”
“I started with our regular volunteers, and a couple of people I know from church.”
“Good. I’ll see if I can find an electrician for the wiring.”
She tilted her head toward the kitchen. “Do you have time to shoot a few baskets with Tyler? You can turn the floodlights on.”
A mound of paperwork waited for him back at his office, not to mention he’d like to read his grandfather’s letter. But those things could wait. If there was a chance that shooting a few baskets with the teenager might soften those stony blue eyes, he’d give it a try. “Sure.” He turned and raised his voice. “Hey, Tyler, do you have time to shoot a few baskets?”
“Are you kidding? Sure.”
The boy was waiting with his basketball by the back door when Peter walked into the kitchen. “You sure you can play basketball?” Tyler looked skeptical.
“Our team won the state championship when I was a senior.”
“But did you play?”
“I was cocaptain.” Matthew Jefferies was the other cocaptain. “Still want to take me on for a game of HORSE?”
“Sure. You can even go first,” Tyler said.
“That sure of yourself, huh?”
Overhead lights lit up the concrete pad and goal. When he bought the property for the shelter, one of the first things he did was have the pad built and a hoop installed so the kids could at least shoot baskets. He bounced the ball a couple of times and sank the first shot from ten feet away.
“Is that your best shot?” Tyler hooted and easily dropped the ball in the hoop.
Peter backed up a few more feet and missed.
“Too bad.” The teenager dribbled the ball to the edge of the concrete pad and shot from twenty feet away, easily sinking the ball.
Now Peter had to make the same shot. Which he missed, earning himself an H. Grinning, Tyler hooked the ball over his head, once again making the shot. And once again, Peter missed.
The boy was good, no doubt about it. Peter knew Dawson, had gone to school with him. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to the coach and ask if he’d give Tyler a chance, since he’d arrived too late for the tryouts.
“How are things going at school, other than the pepper shaker incident?”
Tyler half shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”
The kid was the king of half shrugs. Peter made a mental note to check his grades tomorrow. “You’re a freshman, right?”
“Yeah.” He bounced the ball back and forth in front of him, then made another three-point shot.
Once Peter had the ball, he took his time and pictured himself making the goal. Swish. He grinned at Tyler.
“See if you can make this one.” Tyler dribbled in and executed a layup shot.
When Peter tried, the ball rolled around the rim and bounced out. “That puts you up to R. Two more and you’re out.” Tyler hooked another shot over his head, using his left hand this time.
“I’ll catch up.” Peter bounced the ball, getting a feel for it, focusing. No way could he make that shot. “What are you planning to do after high school?”
“I don’t know. I want to get a basketball scholarship to State, but I don’t figure I’ll stay at any school long enough to play on a team. I’m too short anyway.” He cocked his head. “You going to shoot or not?”
Peter arced the ball over his head, and it landed behind the goal.
The teen retrieved the ball. “Good try. One more miss and you’re out.”
Tyler bounced the ball and stood a little taller, his shoulders a little straighter, and for the first time since the boy had come to the shelter two months ago, he actually looked happy.
“You’re
