Sink it Rusty by Matt Christopher

1
    R USTY YOUNG blew the whistle as hard as he could. The shrill sound pierced the big barn. It was so loud his own ears rang.
    “Foul on Perry!” Rusty shouted.
    “What?”
    The boys on the floor stopped moving instantly. The tallest one stared at Rusty, his eyes cold and hard.
    “You struck Joby's wrist when you stole the ball from him!” Rusty said. “I saw you!”
    He trotted forward in his slow, awkward way, took the ball from Perry, andhanded it to Joby. “One shot,” he said.
    He felt Perry's stinging glance. Perry always thought he could get away with anything when he played basketball here with
     the kids. Probably he thought he could because he handled the ball better than any of them, and because he was the tallest.
    Rusty didn't care. He'd call the fouls if he saw them, just like the referees did in the big games.
    Joby stepped to the free-throw line. One of the boys had drawn it with white chalk a couple of weeks ago when the gang had
     first started coming to the barn to play basketball.
    Joby held the ball close to his chest and looked long and hard at the basket. Players stood on each side of the free-throw
     lane, watching him. Rusty watched him,too. He could not help smiling a little. Every time Joby tried a foul shot, his mouth hung wide open.
    Joby shot. The ball hit the backboard, bounced back and fluttered through the net.
    “Nice shot!” somebody yelled.
    Joby's mouth snapped shut like a trap and he grinned.
    Jim Bush caught the ball as it dropped from the basket. He stepped near the wall at one side of the backboard, passed the
     ball to Perry. Perry dribbled it down-court.
    Rusty followed him. For a moment he tried to keep up with Perry. Then he slowed down. His legs refused to obey his wishes.
     He couldn't lift his knees as high as he wanted to. He couldn't take long strides.
    That was why he was refereeing now instead of playing.
    Mom and Dad said he was improving, though. He wished he could improve faster. He wanted to play basketball as well as the
     boys did. And other sports, too.
    Mom and Dad had often reminded him that he was much more fortunate than many other children. Some had serious effects from
     polio for years and years, whereas he had got over the worst of his two years ago.
    Two years! And he still wasn't able to run, jump, and do other things that his friends did!
    Rusty pushed the thoughts from his mind. He watched Perry dribble toward the basket. Corny Moon was guarding Perry closely.
     Quick as a wink, Perry dribbled past him and broke for the basket.He went up, pushed the ball against the backboard, and scored two points.
    The ball dropped to the floor. Rusty caught it on the bounce. He tossed it to a boy waiting to take it out. Then he saw a
     movement near the corner of the room, and paused to get a better look.
    A man had climbed the ladder from the floor below. He wasn't really too old —perhaps twenty-five. But boy, was he tall! Six-foot-four!
     That's what the kids had said. His name was Alec Daws. His father had recently purchased the grocery store in Cannerville.
     They were still a little like strangers.
    He stepped onto the floor. A wide grin spread across his face.
    “Keep playing,” he said. “Don't stop because of me.”
    For a second Rusty's gaze fell upon theblack glove Alec Daws wore on his left hand. He thought it was funny that Alec should wear only one glove.
    The boys played awhile longer. Rusty blew the whistle a couple of times when he thought a foul was made. Both times the boys
     on whom Rusty made the call yelled at him. And both times Rusty's face turned red.
    “Here, Mr. Daws,” he said, holding the ball out toward the tall onlooker. “You ref.”
    “No. You're doing all right,” said Alec Daws.
    “Good idea!” Perry Webb exclaimed. “Come on, Alec! Ref for us!”
    Alec Daws smiled, shrugged, and accepted the ball from Rusty.
    Rusty went to the side of the floor and sat down. The boys played more carefullynow that Alec was