Lipko and BasketBilly Primož Suhodolčan Ilustrated by Gorazd Vahen Editor of printed edition Andreja Kavčič Translated by Ksenija Malija Vahen ePub Vtis Editor-in-Chief Vasja Kožuh Executive Director of the Publishing Division Ada de Costa Petan Published by DZS, založništvo in trgovina, d. d. Dalmatinova ulica 2, 1538 Ljubljana Chief Executive Officer Bojan Petan Digital edition ePub, first edition URL http:/www.emka.si/ http:/www.biblos.si/lib/ Ljubljana, 2013 © DZS, založništvo in trgovina, d. d., 2013. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, rented, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of DZS, založništvo in trgovina, d. d. The removal of this disclaimer is punishable by law. CIP - Kataložni zapis o publikaciji Narodna in univerzitetna knjižnica, Ljubljana 821.163.6-93-32(0.034.2) 087.5(0.034.2) SUHODOLČAN, Primož Lipko and BasketBilly [Elektronski vir] / Primož Suhodolčan ; illustrated by Gorazd Vahen ; translated by Ksenija Malija Leban. - Digital ed. - El. knjiga. - Ljubljana : DZS, 2013 Izv. stv. nasl.: Lipko in KošoRok ISBN 978-961-02-0624-8 (ePub) 271083264 The basketball court at the edge of the forest has been deserted for a very long time. It has been ages since basketball was last played here. The nets on the hoops are long gone, the paint on the backboards has peeled off, there are holes in the fence and the benches are all broken. There is no one jumping the hoops, the only visitor is the evening breeze chasing the leaves from one side of the court to the other. What do you mean, no one? How come I can hear the ball bouncing on the ground as we speak? A ball can’t jump on its own! There it is: tap, tap, tap! Who is playing if there is no one there? Frogs are way too short, dormice are still in deep hibernation, and the bats are way too clumsy with the ball. Everybody knows that. For a long time, Billy had been coming to the court regularly. No one wanted to play with him during the day. All the other children teased him that he was way too short and tiny, and ever so wet behind the ears. That’s why he was never allowed to come close to any of the fancy big courts. So Billy preferred playing basketball on his own, in the evening. He imagined himself competing against skilled opponents and scoring in important games. That evening, as he was shooting hoops, he heard a rustling in the thicket by the court. For a moment, he felt as if someone was watching. ‘It’s probably nothing,’ he thought. And yet, he felt a bit tense. After all, during the night, even the most innocent of shrubs can look like a monster. After the next shot, the ball bounced from the hoop and ended up in the rustling shrubs. Billy was about to fetch it when the ball suddenly flew back and rolled towards his feet. He threw the ball in the same direction again – and the ball hopped back just like before. “Is anybody there?” asked Billy shyly. No reply. “Stop hiding if you’re there!” Billy showed more courage. No reply. Just absolute silence. Billy tried a different approach: “Come on, let’s play. The ball’s waiting. If that’s what you want, that is.” Again, no reply. Billy threw the ball towards the bushes again, but this time he ran after it. The ball stopped in front of the first row of trees. When Billy wanted to pick it up, something reached from the darkness and grabbed it. Both Billy and a strange creature with leaves on its head were holding the ball, looking at each other in awe. This time, Billy took a proper fright. He let go of the ball and ran back to the court. “Don’t be afraid. I’m Lipko. I watch you play every evening.” Billy had another, closer look at the strange creature and was even more surprised. It was a tree! A talking tree! Lipko ran towards him: “I like playing basketball, too.” I mean, a talking tree that likes playing basketball? Billy was trying to take it all in. “Don’t you believe me?” Lipko asked. “If you walked through these woods with your eyes and ears open, you wouldn’t find it so unusual.” Billy was speechless. “Tell you what – let’s play one on one. It will be much more fun than each of us playing on our own,” Lipko suggested. What? A talking tree, fond of basketball, that wants to play with me? Billy scratched his head. Is this a dream? So what! If it is a dream, I might as well enjoy it and have fun! “Why not? I’ll play with you,” Billy finally replied. “If no one else wants to play with me, I may as well play with a tree!” Lipko wasted no time. With the ball in his branchy hands, he went straight to the centre of the court. Billy, who so far thought he must have been dreaming, was now convinced his eyesight was playing tricks on him. He blinked three times and rubbed his eyes, then he looked again. Everything was exactly the same! What was more, the tree was wearing a real basketball uniform. Suddenly, Billy remembered that he had never played with a tree before. He wondered if playing with a tree would be any different. He didn’t have to wait long to see that, although Lipko was made of wood, he was anything but wooden when it came to basketball. He could spin the ball on his finger, he could dribble it through his legs, and around his feet from front to back. Then he ran to the basket and gently dropped the ball through the hoop. He repeated the whole manoeuvre three more times, each time slightly differently. “So, what do you think?” Lipko asked. “What do I think?” Billy scratched his head again. “I’ve never seen a tree moving faster than me before!” So they started to play one on one and soon realised that they were a very good match. They ran, jumped and cheered loudly for each other. Sometimes they ran and jumped and teased each other without holding back. Sometimes Lipko shot better and Billy missed slightly. Sometimes Billy shot better and Lipko missed slightly. But most importantly of all, they both had great fun. When they sat down under the basket, all worn out, Billy asked: “How come you play basketball, Lipko?” “I’ve always been very lively. I simply love running through the woods – which is odd for a tree, isn’t it? The other trees used to say that not even my roots could help me stand still. One day I found an abandoned ball on the court. That’s how it all began. Sadly, I’m not tall enough to play with the best trees yet. I’m still way too green, they tell me. How about you?” “Same story,” said Billy. “I want to become a basketball player more than anything, but no one wants to play with me. They tell me that I’ll need to eat a lot of buckwheat žganci before I grow into a proper player. But I’ll show them.” “How will you do that?” “I’m starting to eat buckwheat žganci as of tomorrow,” Billy smiled. Lipko and Billy agreed to play together every evening until the first snowfall. One evening, after practice, Billy said: “That was great! See you again tomorrow?” “I can’t make it tomorrow, I’m afraid,” replied Lipko. “Why not?” “You see, tomorrow night is special.” “Why is it special?” asked Billy. “Because it only happens once a year. And the whole forest looks forward to it,” Lipko continued being secretive. “Perhaps I shouldn’t tell you about it. It is supposed to be our biggest secret. No one outside these woods is supposed to know.” “Well, I won’t know either then,” Billy put on a disinterested face. “Shall I tell you?” Lipko asked. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” “Well, if you must know ...” Lipko gave in easily. After all, he knew that true friends can be trusted. “Every last day of the first green month when there is full moon, the most important basketball game of the year takes place on this very court. All the trees come.” “Who is playing?” “The coniferous trees are playing against the deciduous team.” “You’re kidding me, right?” chuckled Billy. “One lively tree – that I can take. But a whole forest playing basketball? You should know I grew out of fairy tales a long time ago.” “Not all the forest! Only the very best players! After all, this is the game of the year! This is the Forest Cup!” “And there’s even a cup! A wooden one, I suppose?” Billy burst out laughing. “Come and see it for yourself tomorrow night if you don’t believe me,” said Lipko. “You bet I will,” Billy giggled. “Can I be the referee?” “That post is taken. We’ve got a great referee already.” »“And who would that be?” Billy wanted to know. “Mr Stump himself,” revealed Lipko. “Mr Stump?” “Indeed! The fact that he wears no leaves or needles guarantees his impartiality,” Lipko explained. “I will most definitely be there,” Billy smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” The long-awaited last day of the first green month arrived. The full moon was shining so brightly that the basketball court looked like a real, magnificently lit sports hall. Everything was ready for the most important event of the year in the forest. The grandstands were radiant with all the possible shades of green. The needles, leaves, flags and banners fluttered joyfully in the breeze. Amongst all the excitement, no one even noticed Billy, who stood by the court with his mouth gaping. Old Hollow, rumour has it, was at least a thousand years old, and had been the master of ceremonies in at least as many games. Still, he was as lively as ever when he cleared his throat and, in his strong thunder-like voice, announced: “Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished spectators, the game is about to begin! Let’s welcome the first team – the Conifers!” The Conifers ran onto the court triumphantly, greeted everyone with a smile and bowed deeply. “Here they are: Cybill the Cypress, Jason the Juniper, Cedar the Tall, as well as the legendary Larry the Larch, the pillar of the defence! Why is he called this? Because, like a true pillar, he is simply immovable! He just positions himself under the hoop, raises his powerful branches, and nobody can get past him!” Old Hollow described the team. Their fans stamped their roots so loudly it was as if a thunderstorm was about to break. Old Hollow continued in a loud crescendo: “Finally, here comes their captain: Pius the Pine! Everyone fears him, as his needles are so long he never loses a single ball! Beware of his deadly sting and treacherous bite, my deciduous trees tonight!” “And here comes the other team – the Deciduous Trees! Headed by Odin the Oak and followed by Chaz the Chestnut, Betty the Birch, and Boris the Beech! And tonight, for the very first time, please welcome Lipko the Linden!” Their fans saluted them with a roar. All the trees were jumping for joy so much that the earth was trembling. “Is that Lipko in the team? Playing with those big, tall trees?” Billy was amazed. “They’ll be tossing and throwing him so much he’ll end up all black and blue!” Indeed, Lipko had made it into the team for the very first time. Now, that was quite an achievement! One of the spectators, quietly sitting in a grandstand, was particularly proud of Lipko. Faith the Fir and Lipko had been life-long friends. They had grown up together in the very same grove. In the warm gentle spring breeze, Faith and Lipko would always lean against each other, Lipko gently caressing Faith with his soft leaves. At times, his leaves would even get entangled in her needles. It almost felt as if they were holding hands, never wanting to let go and part from each other. Tonight, Faith was crossing her needles for Lipko. Mr Stump, the referee, had gathered both teams in the centre of the court: “Don’t forget: this is the most important game in the whole year! I want fair play! No tripping, no dragging by the leaves, no pulling by the needles! And, most importantly, breaking the opponent’s branches or twigs is strictly forbidden! Have I made myself clear?” The trees nodded in reply – some gently and silently, others decisively. The referee threw the ball high in the air, and the game began! “Let’s go, Leafers!” cheered the fans. “Leaves can roll, leaves can hide, leaves conceal, give you a fright! And before you know it, swooosh: they jump the hoops with all their might!” “Needlers know their job! They sting, they bite! They will beat you all tonight!” sang the supporters of the other team. At first, the Leafers were doing slightly better. So the Needlers started teasing them openly: “Your delicate round leaves will do you no good, softies! If you want to win, you have to be pointy and sharp!” The Leafers didn’t give in. But the Needlers didn’t back off an inch either. They both played fiercely when – as usually happens on such occasions – Betty the Birch stumbled against the leg of Pius the Pine, crashed into Larry the Larch, fell and broke one of her branches. “That must hurt,” Billy thought and ran onto the court to help the injured Betty to the bench, where Hazel bandaged Betty’s broken branch with her healing leaves. The Deciduous Team tried in vain to find a replacement. But after what had happened, no one dared to go onto the court. All the trees were afraid they might sprain, fracture or even lose one of their limbs. “What if Billy played for us?” suggested Lipko. Billy was taken by surprise. The trees gasped. “I’m not sure that can be done. Nothing like that has ever happened before,” the referee shook his head. “Of course it hasn’t! The boy isn’t a deciduous tree, he’s of an entirely different species!” protested Pius. “Oh, but I am a deciduous tree!” Billy seized his opportunity. “Just look at my hair! My schoolmates call me a travelling bush. And my Dad says I have a whole jungle on top of my head.” “That doesn’t make you a tree,” insisted Pius. “There’s more!” Billy continued. “Right now, I’m on pins and needles! One of my chores at home is to rake leaves. And my mother makes me eat all the leafy vegetables she can grow. My friends even call me leafer because of that.” The players looked at each other. They were all speechless. Mr Stump, the referee, didn’t know what to do. None of the books had a rule that covered the situation. The more he scratched his bark, the less he was sure what to do. Finally, Pius put an end to it all: “Let him play! What can this tousled head do anyway?” The Conifers were big and strong, which is why at first they really seemed unbeatable. Little did they know, however, how fast and agile Lipko and Billy were. They were all over the court. They enjoyed it the most when they conjured up strange shots and passes that had never been seen before. The two teams were neck and neck – sometimes one was ahead, sometimes the other. Just before the end of the game, a ball from the Conifers bounced high into the air. All the trees raised their branches to catch it, but none of them could reach it. Pius thought Larry had got it, while Larry was staring at Jason, who was convinced Pius would catch the ball. There they were, looking at each other for so long that Lipko jumped towards their outstretched branches, pushed the ball past them and leaped into attack. Billy was right behind him. The Conifers were at a loss. Lipko and Billy zigzagged across the court like two racing trees, while the Conifers were desperately trying to figure out which of them had the ball. Lipko and Billy kept spinning them round the court until eventually Pius, Larry and Jason crashed into each other, got completely entangled and just stood there, utterly confused, in the middle of the court. “Let’s go back,” Lipko winked at Billy. “Whatever for?” “So that we can outplay them again,” Lipko laughed. A moment later, Lipko was running towards the opponent’s basket. What happened next will forever be a part of history. He stopped, turned towards Billy and threw the ball in a high arch. Then he placed his branches in a position that allowed Billy to simply jump up on him, launch himself upwards and fly through the air like a leaf in the autumn wind. Billy was catapulted towards the basket, where he caught the ball in both hands and pushed it through the hoop with all his might. The Conifers gaped in astonishment, their eyes popped out and their bark fell off from the shock. Pius stood frozen in the middle of the court, unable to move, as if his roots had chained him to the ground. Not only did he lose his bark, all his needles fell off right there and then. There he stood, completely naked, like a deciduous tree in the winter, when the referee blew the final whistle. Faith’s needles were jumping from excitement: “That’s how you do it, Lipko! Hooray!” Her auntie Silvia the Spruce, who was sitting next to her, smiled and said: “Do show a bit of respect for our team, young lady!” “Yes, of course. What I meant was ... Well done, everybody! Hooray!” Lipko and Billy congratulated each other. “Billy, my friend, from this day on you won’t be called Billy any more – you’re a real BasketBilly!” Lipko laughed. “I would never have dreamt that such magical evenings could unfold on this basketball court,” Billy whispered. Larry the Larch came to congratulate them both: “Let it be for tonight. But next year we’ll be back, even bigger and stronger. The victory will be ours again!” “I wouldn’t be so sure. By then, we will have grown up, too – won’t we, Billy?” Billy gave Lipko a high-five treeshake and grinned. It was only when Pius came to congratulate them as well that the real celebration could begin. All the creatures in the woods sang and danced all night long. Even Faith and Lipko took a couple of turns on the dance floor, while the others applauded in admiration. All the coniferous, and all the deciduous trees as well, were thoroughly impressed by their dancing skills. At dawn, when the sun had started its ascent in the sky, all the trees went back to their places and fell asleep from exhaustion. In the morning, when the sunbeams illuminated the forest, which smiled back in all its captivating colours, hues and shades, it seemed – if only for a brief moment – as if the previous evening had never happened. And yet, it had! If you believe this story, head for a basketball court on the full moon of the first green month. Which is the right evening? No one knows. So it’s probably better if you visit the court every day and stay there until the evening falls. Then you can’t miss it. For sure, sooner or later, you’ll experience a magical evening like this yourself.