The Immigrant Who Played Basketball

Chapter Thirty One- The Immigrant Who Played Basketball

"How is she?"

"Has this happened before?"

"No! Can I just see my daughter, please?"

"Give her time. She needs rest."

"I won't disturb her. Let me just see her!"

"No, ma'am. She-."

"Mamma?" I call out weakly," Are you there?"

"Yes I am, sweetie. And I'm not leaving you," Mom reassures me.

"Where am I?"

"You're in the first aid area. You collapsed."

That's when a rush of memories return: me falling while Logan calls my name.

The nurse appears.

"We were hoping you could tell us what you think caused you to collapse or at least clues," the nurse suggests.

"Can I talk to my Mum privately, please?" I ask as polite as I could.

"Fine," the nurse says grudgingly," Call me if you need anything."

The nurse leaves the room. Mamma sits on the chair next to my bed.

"What do you want to talk about?" Mom questions eagerly.

"How bad was I playing today?" I ask, straight to the point.

"You weren't that bad," my Mum lies because her eyes are anxious.

"The truth."

Mamma sighs heavily.

"You were really bad, Luna. That was probably the worst I've ever seen you play. But we all have our bad days," Mom tries to not seem too negative.

"I wasn't concentrating," I state.

"Yeah. You looked distracted."

"I kept having flashbacks of..."

"The day Ella died."

I nod. I hesitate because I'm about to ask a question that I've never dared to ask.

"What helped your grief, you know? Over Papa?"

My Mum hesitates. She clearly didn't expect that question to pop up.

"Um...honestly I was a mess. Your dad was the only reason that I stayed in Italy, to have to bear the discrimination every day. I thought that I could do anything as long as I had him by my side."

She sniffed before continuing.

"So when I received the phone call, I felt my whole world collapse. I felt that I couldn't live without him. It took time for me to open my eyes and realise that I had to accept that I would never see him again. But I had two great gifts."

"What?" I ask.

"A five-year-old girl who looks like him and having him in my heart."

There's a silence.

"Luna, you have to accept it," Mamma advises.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Coach!" I call out.

Coach Taylor turns around.

"Luna, how are you?" Coach asks awkwardly.

"Good if you allow me to play. Please!" I beg.

Coach Taylor exhales.

"Luna, I can't. This is a team so I can't favour you. Anyway, it's not good for your health. If it happened once, it can happen again, right?" Coach explains.