by M. E. Eadie
***
“That’s great,” said Spike pacing alongside Colin as they walked up the street toward the Sportsplex. Ever since dressing up, or more realistically, becoming a coyote, Spike’s physical movements had become more like the wily creature. His head, arms, legs were in constant motion. “I mean this soccer thing could actually be good.”
“Come on, you hate the idea; you’d rather be chasing after Silverberry.”
“No, actually, I don’t mind--I mean the part about soccer. Silverberry is something else. I mean how can she be here and not be here all at the same time?”
“Maybe it’s the same type of thing that goes on in the tower: on the outside it looks like it isn’t there, but on the inside, it is.” He didn’t want to tell him more about Inbetween, not yet.
“You ever wonder what’s in those other rooms?” asked Spike looking more mischievous than ever.
“No, I haven’t,” lied Colin, not wanting to give him any excuse to get into any more trouble. “Come on, we’ve got a game to lose.”
The green artificial turf, the uniformed players of the opposing field, the air of expectation excited Spike. Colin dreaded it, but an animated Rhea, her vibrant hair tied back, made him smile. Her enthusiasm was contagious.
“Are you ready to give it your best shot?” she asked.
“You know me, I learn from every failure,” he quipped.
Colin peeked around her and saw Rhea’s Grandma sitting placidly at a bench reading what looked like a manual. Next to her were Tan and Chloe. Tan, a rather skinny kid with thick glasses, was looking about nervously and shuffling something in his hands, while Chloe was curiously examining her surroundings. They both had black hair. Both sister and brother shared some of Rhea’s facial features, mostly in the shape of their chins and their wide almond-shaped eyes. But there was something else about Chloe, something he’d not noticed before. It was the way she was standing. It reminded him of Spike’s stance. She looked around at things in much the same way too, as though she was trying to find something funny or entertaining. Colin swiveled around searching for Spike. Sure enough, he was checking out his surroundings in the same manner as was Chloe. Weird!
Across the artificial plane of green he saw Edge and Coach Bone. Inside, he groaned. With his mouth pulled taut and wide in a maniacal grin, and barely moving his lips, he said, “What a great start to the season. We’re going to be annihilated by the Terminators.”
“Yeah, isn’t it great!” she said with perverse delight. “Come on, Grandma has our new shirts!”
“Shirts?” exclaimed Spike tearing his eyes away from his own cursory exploration of the room.
“Tan and Chloe’s parents run a restaurant in town and they’ve decided to sponsor us.”
They lined up in front of Grandma Li, but she kept her nose buried in a manual. Colin thought that it must have had something to do with soccer, but on closer examination he saw that it was a book on herbology. Rhea eagerly opened a small box and tossed them their rumpled lime-green soccer shirts. After the last one had flown through the air to be caught by Colin, she looked up apologetically trying to hide her own disappointment with a brave smile. The only thing nice about the shirts was the logo over the left breast, a tiny deft design of a dragon and phoenix pursuing each other’s tail in a circle. Otherwise, the shirts--their hideous color and the large plate of steaming noodles underscored with the restaurant’s name --were very ugly. Colin flipped the shirt around to see if there were any numbers there. There weren’t.
“Not to worry,” said Grandma Li’s clipped voice. “I brought some tape.” Without looking up from her book, she rummaged in her large purse for the tape and gently threw it up in the air.
Without missing a beat, Rhea caught it and began to busily rip pieces off to stick onto the backs of the shirts. She flipped Colin’s shirt for him to see, and gave a weak smile. “Number one!” and handed it to Colin.
“So,” said Spike considerately, looking at the plate of noodles on the front of the shirt, “we’re The Noodles?”
“No, no!” laughed Grandma Li, “you not just The Noodles, you are The Steaming Noodles! Great name, eh? Come, come, it is just a name and we must respect our sponsor. You prefer The Nothings?”
They shook their heads. They were ‘The Steaming Noodles’, and the name would spawn others, like the ‘Noodle Heads’ and the ‘Wet Noodles’, none of which struck fear into the hearts of the opposition.
“So,” said Colin trying not to feel too self-conscious about the shirts, “I’m in net, then?” He offered up the question to anyone, because Grandma Li continued to read her book and showed no indication of taking her coaching job seriously.
Rhea nodded, handing back the other shirts to Spike, Tan and Chloe, who, for a moment looked like they didn’t know what to do with them, but then slowly slipped them on. They looked like a bunch of … ‘Noodle Heads.’
“We’ll play two, two, one, I guess,” said Rhea, tentatively glancing over at her Grandma, but when no support came from that quarter, she firmed up. “Colin, you’re in net, I’ll play forward with Tan. Spike and Chloe, you play defense.”
Colin noticed that Chloe, Tan and Spike all had vacant, bewildered expressions on their faces. He recognized that stunned look. That’s how he’d reacted the first time he’d played. He was now an experienced player, which for obvious reasons, didn’t make him feel exactly comfortable. People with experience were supposed to instill confidence. He turned, hopefully to Rhea.
“Okay, now I know the other team has more experience than we do, but all we have to do is pass the ball, and remember, indoor soccer has a lot more scoring, so the likelihood of us getting some goals is a lot higher ….”
“Rhea,” said Chloe, looking about uncomfortably, “what are you supposed to do on defense?”
“Get the ball away from the other team and pass it up to Tan and me. Simple, right?” she said with a foolish smile on her face.
“Can I ask a silly question?” asked Spike looking over at the other team. The Terminators, in their dapper red and black striped shirts, were running back and forth on their side of the field, moving with the ball, passing it and then shooting it. Echoing over and around them, enveloping them like a huge wave, was the big, blustering voice of Mr. Bone. “Don’t we need some balls to warm up with? We’re supposed to warm up, right?”
Rhea shuffled her feet uncomfortably, then reached inside an old burlap bag and pulled out a small ball made up of tightly bound up rags.
“That’s a ball?” asked Tan as he looked up, adjusted his glasses, and gazed over the cards he had been examining in his hands.
Rhea didn’t wait to explain, but dropped the ball of rags and kicked it deftly into their own goal. “Come on, let’s warm up. Tan you have to leave those cards on the bench. You don’t want them to get damaged do you?”
Tan hesitated, but then acquiesced and followed his cousin hesitantly out onto the field. He shoved his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. They had a habit of sliding down onto the end of his nose again. Then Spike and Chloe looked at each other, shrugged, and followed them on to the field.
Colin, as he tried to block the rag ball from going into the net, had a perfect view of Edge’s team. The Terminators were everything they were not. First, they looked good dressed in their red and black striped shirts, with black shorts and red socks. He felt a bit embarrassed, because the only things that identified them as a team were their shirts. They all had different colored shorts and socks, no shin protectors, and no soccer shoes. Colin knew Rhea had the equipment, but she wasn’t wearing it tonight. He admired her for that, even though it was rather foolish. A kick in the shin was painful. While the other team kicked their soccer balls with gusto, they tapped their ball of rags about tentatively. Tan wasn’t sure how this kicking thing went and kept missing the ball. Chloe, like Spike, could hit the ball, but it went careening off in all directions.
Only Rhea could hit the net from where she was, however, Colin couldn’t prevent it from going in.
“‘But there was no unity. There was no vision,’” said Sergeant Peary appearing with a loud ‘POP’. He was dressed in his tuxedo and wore a bowler hat. His cigar, as usual, smoldered away between his teeth. He looked like he had put on a lot of weight, and when Colin didn’t respond to his quote, he deflated disappointedly, rolling his eyes. “Winston Churchill said that about Europe’s inability to stand up to the NAZIs.”
“You’re here to watch, I hope,” said Colin dryly. Actually he hoped the ghost was going to interfere. Nothing could get any worse.
The ghost nodded.
“We’re going to get crushed,” Colin complained, trying to warn the ghost away. He looked balefully over at The Terminators. Mr. Bone was now whipping up his team into a frenzied pitch. They were doing an exercise where they all stood in a circle and kicked the ball back and forth to one another. He was amazed, so hypnotized, that they abruptly stopped their own warm up to watch
“Don’t worry, ‘This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning,’” said Sergeant Peary trying to comfort them, but as usual he just confused.
“Winston Churchill?”
“Absolutely. The one thing that Churchill had that your team doesn’t, is that he was on an island. Your team, unfortunately, doesn’t have any water to separate you from the enemy. I’ll just slip over here, to watch the game.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” said Colin watching the ghost waft over to the sidelines where he sat down beside Grandma Li, crossed his legs, and began to read the book she was so engrossed in.
The referee blew his whistle and motioned for the two captains to come to the center of the field. Rhea hesitated.
“I guess I’m captain? Is that all right?” she asked her team.
Everyone nodded, impressed that Rhea would even want to take responsibility for such a team. Colin watched, as though he was in a dream, but then followed Rhea out onto the field. He wasn’t about to let her face this alone.
“What? Both of you are your team’s captains?” said Edge, his face full of mocking ridicule.
When the referee, in the black and white striped shirt, didn’t say anything, they assumed it was all right.
“We’re co-captains,” asserted Rhea.
The referee nodded.
“Co-captains of the Noodle Heads? Nice shorts, Rainbow,” said Edge contemptuously.
Colin fought the urge to look down at his red, yellow and blue-banded shorts.
“I’ll toss a coin…” began the referee, but was cut off by Edge.
“Don’t bother, let them have the ball first, they’ll need it.” Edge turned and walked away. He was shaking his head in disbelief.
The referee dropped the ball and the whistle sounded shrilly. The nightmare began. Rhea heeled the ball back and away from Edge towards Tan. It was the same with every game: get the ball back to your team, and then pass it, moving up the field. The only problem with this was that Tan looked rather bewildered when the ball rolled up to his feet. By the time he figured out he had to kick it, Edge, who was bearing down on him like a charging rhinoceros, had kicked him in the shin while stripping him of the ball. The only thing that saved them from being scored on was that Spike and Chloe were still clustered in front of the net. Edge wound up, kicked the ball, hitting Spike square on the side of the head. It was going so fast that it knocked him down, bounced off the wall, and continued bouncing halfway down the field.
“Nice save, Dog Boy. That’s a little pay back for tying our shoe laces,” chortled Edge before turning to get back on side.
Rhea had the ball, but she was immediately swarmed with black and red striped Terminators and she couldn’t do anything, except pass to Tan, who feebly kicked the ball to one of the opposing players. He was still limping from being kicked in the shins.
“What do we do?” asked Spike, still in front of the net. He shook his head, a bit dazed.
“Get up there, take the ball away from them, and pass it to Rhea,” Colin told him. “Chloe, you stay back. If anyone gets through, you stop them.”
Chloe nodded, but he could tell she hadn’t a clue how to carry out his instructions.
The Terminators were charging down on them again when Spike ran out to defend. He looked with amazement as the ball floated up and over his head, landing behind him, and at the feet of another Terminator. The big blond Terminator glanced up at Colin to sight his shot, but was never able to get it off because a flying Chloe tackled him around the legs, tripping him to the ground. The whistle sounded shrilly, signaling a stoppage in the play, and the referee ran over, pulled out a yellow card and waved it in front of Chloe’s face. He wrote her number in his book.
“What are you smiling about?” Rhea asked, giving her cousin a hand up.
“I was supposed to stop him, right? And the referee gave me a nice yellow card for doing it, right? That’s good, right?” said Chloe exuberantly, her dark hair hanging in front of her face.
“No, that’s not all right! You’re not supposed to trip people on purpose. If you get another yellow card, you’re out of the game and we’ll have to play without you, and that’s not good,” emphasized Rhea, hoping Chloe understood.
Chloe looked a bit confused.
Colin was ready for the penalty shot, but it still sizzled into the net behind him making the score one/nil. He looked disappointedly down at the ball and kicked it as hard as he could. The ball sailed the length of the field, bounced off the far wall and hit Edge right in the back of the head, knocking the smirk off his face. The referee blew his whistle again, ran up to him and gave him a yellow card too. Spike was doubled over laughing.
“If I see anything like that again, you’re out of here!” warned the ref.
Colin didn’t even get a chance to explain that he hadn’t meant to hit anybody, that he was just tired of being a lousy keeper, a lousy player. Spike and Chloe came over and gave him an encouraging pat on the back.
“That was some awesome kick! Could you do it again, I mean the bouncing off Edge’s head was perfect,” said Spike wolfishly.
Then the whistle sounded and the game was back on. The first half was a bit of a nightmare. The Terminators scored eight times; eight times they bullied their way down on them; eight times Edge turned away smirking; eight times he made some sort of snide comment. The last thing he said before the end of the half was when Rhea, Tan, Chloe and Spike were gasping for air around their own goal.
“Why don’t you people go back to where you belong? You’re never going to get this game.”
Colin, sweat dripping down his face, quickly stepped between Rhea and Edge. He had never seen her so furious. Even though they were losing eight to zero, without Rhea, it would’ve been much, much worse.
“Get lost,” said Colin feeling the wind gathering behind him.
“Whatcha gonna do, Rainbow? Cry?” taunted Edge, turning his back on them and strutting away.
“Meathead,” muttered Colin under his breath, but he could tell by the way that thick neck stiffened that he had been heard.
Colin stepped up beside Rhea as they walked heavily to their bench for their half time break. He noticed Rhea looked particularly saddened. “Rhea, what did he mean by saying you people?”
Rhea shook her head and pretended to wipe the sweat out of her eyes, but Colin knew they were tears.
“It’s not important.”
And then Grandma Li was there wrapping towels around their shoulders and thrusting white bottles into their hands. Colin took a drink, and was immediately infused with energy. He felt the restorative tonic running like a shockwave throughout his body. Old Mrs. Li was on her way to winning him over by taking the first step to act like their coach.
“What is this!” exclaimed Spike taking another huge, greedy gulp.
<
br /> “Easy, now,” cautioned Grandma Li, reaching over to pull the bottle away from Spike. “If you take too much, you be running forever, unable to stop, like crazy, pink bunny on idiot box! This is ancient secret; it meant to be taken little bit at a time.
Now, gather round, so enemy cannot hear us. You too, Ghost Boy!” she said to Sergeant Peary who was trying to peek into their circle by floating upside down from above. Grandma Li paused, staring into everyone’s face before beginning. “Now, I may know nothing about this game, but like any game, the goal is to win, and right now, there is no way that going to happen!”
“Thanks, Grandma,” mumbled Rhea.
“No, no, you crazy kid, you not understand! You can’t win right now because you all playing wrong way. You must listen to your guardian spirits! “You,” she said to Tan, catching him not paying attention, “give me those cards!” She drew a card out of the pack and handed it back to him. It was the picture of a Samurai warrior with his sword in the defensive position. “You will defend. You are keeper of the net. That is what you do, neh?
“You two,” she said, snapping her fingers beneath the noses of Chloe and Spike, “you two are dogs. You both play back, like you already doing, but chase the ball, and remember, you are good dogs that never leave home, never leave middle or back, neh?”
Colin saw perfectly what Grandma Li was saying. Spike and Chloe did both hop around like excited canines. He felt his heart take up a faster beat, knowing what was coming with all the positions accounted for.
“And you two, you should never be separated! Work with each other, fight with each other, sometimes against each other. You are yin and yang, female and male of everything, perfect harmony. They can never be divided. You two play up front.”
“But Grandma,” said Rhea, about to complain about how Tan had never played net before, but she was silenced by the old woman’s raised hand. She may have been extremely small, but when something was final, there was no arguing with her.
“I have spoken. What you think, ghost boy?” she asked Sergeant Peary.
Colin noticed how neither Tan nor Chloe seemed particularly surprised by the presence of the ghost. He could tell they could see him because their eyes were now on him after Grandma Li asked her question.
“Seems like a plan,” growled Peary, squinting his eyes. “That Edge fellow needs to be taught some lessons, and I’d say, now would be a good time to start!”
“You’re not going to do anything, right?” asked Colin apprehensively. The last thing he needed was the ghost getting them kicked out of the indoor league.
“Me? Don’t be daft! It’s not my game, it’s yours! You guys are going to make a game of it. Now let me show you something I learned in boot camp! Gather round. Now put your hands into the center.” Everyone put their hand in, creating a pile of hands. “Now on three, we’re going to shout the word ‘Noodles’ as loud as we can, all right? One, two, three…”
“NOODLES!”
Edge and the other Terminators, including Mr. Bone stopped what they were doing and looked over at them momentarily startled, before shaking their heads in amused disbelief.
“Do not worry; they can shake their crazy heads all they want. They going to be in for big surprise! Other thing you should do is …,” Grandma Li leaned in close, “is use your talents.”
Colin hesitated, staring at his feet.
“What is matter with you, neh? The answer not in feet!” she shouted.
“Well, isn’t that cheating?”
“Naw,” said the old woman, crossing her arms, “no more than that big kid doing.”
“Edge? He has special talents?” asked Colin a bit aghast at the idea.
“You not think rotten kids can be special? They can be just as special as rotten adults! His talent is being bully! Now, go get ‘em!”
With that, Grandma Li picked up her half-read book and contentedly sat back down on the bench as though the game wasn’t happening at all.
The Terminators had the kick off for the second half. Colin tried to do as Grandma Li had suggested, use his talent; but really, he didn’t know how it would apply here. This was a lot different than cleaning stairs, or looking into water. However, he knew one thing: The Terminators were really fast. If he could slow things down a bit, he might have a chance of getting the ball away from them. After he got the ball, he’d have to figure out what to do with it, but one thing at a time. He focused on Edge, felt the sweat from the effort dripping down his face, and concentrated on slowing things down. Nothing happened.
But suddenly he knew where the ball was going to go. It wasn’t like falling into the water; this time it was like looking at hundreds of lines emanating from each player, blue and red lines. The red lines were the important ones; these lines told him which way the ball was going to go. He had thought that Edge was going to heel the ball back, but the red line shooting across the floor said he was going to kick it forward and quickly run after it.
“After he kicks the ball, run for their net,” whispered Colin to Rhea who looked at him quizzically and, then hesitantly gave a nod.
The whistle blew and the second half was on.
Just as the red line had predicted, Edge kicked the ball ahead, but Colin quickly stepped into its path and, intercepting it, passed the ball to Rhea, which spun past the surprised Edge. She then flipped it over the head of the Terminator defender. Pursuing it, she caught up with the ball and hit it with such force that the Terminator keeper jumped fearfully away from the ball. In the stunned silence that settled on the field, The Terminators realized they had been scored upon.
Sergeant Peary was doing a peculiar dance with high kicks while Grandma Li temporarily glanced over the top of her book to give a slight nod and smile. The Noodles gave Rhea a mass hug, falling on top of each other as though they had just won a championship. After a few moments, when their celebration showed no sign of abating, the referee had to separate them, reminding them sternly that if such behavior continued he’d have to give the entire team a red card.
“Just luck,” snarled Edge, his brush cut bristling as he prepared to kick off again.
He was wrong; it wasn’t luck. The changes Grandma Li had made were profound. With Spike and Chloe playing back, their ‘dog’ defense went from bad to very good. They were like hound dogs, Spike and Chloe; it was almost as though they could smell where the player on the other team was going, and consequently, they were able to get in the way. Even though they weren’t very skilled with the ball, they were able to slow the Terminators down until Rhea could get back and steal the ball. This was only the beginning of difficulties for the Terminators.
Colin could tell that Edge, fully expectant to continue dominating the Noodles, was not amused by the turn of events. His skin color had changed from a robust pink to a ruddy irritated red flush. His face was shiny with sweat, and his beady porcine eyes bored into them with an insatiate fury. Coach Bone was jumping up and down on the sideline, screaming in futility, yelling at the referee for not calling imaginary infractions. In his opinion, every time one of the Noodles touched the ball, a free kick for the Terminators should have been given. This irascible behavior must have rubbed the referee the wrong way, because the ref started to call the Terminators on questionable infractions.
Spike nailed the ball so hard it bounced off the wall, sailed through the air, and bounced down behind the Terminator’s defense. Rhea, taking advantage of the situation, was in the process of surging past the defender when the Terminator tripped her up, sending her sliding onto the turf. It was questionable whether she would have gotten free, but the referee called a penalty kick, which threw Mr. Bone into another screaming fit on the sideline.
Edge, his face now beet red, was about to explode. He blurted out, “Come on! Come on!” sounding very much like an irate, squawking chicken. The referee, in an effort to quiet him, waved a yellow card in front of his nose.
A silence descended onto the field as Rhea glanced at the keeper, his arms and legs stretched out, trying to cover as much of the net as possible. She wondered where she should aim the ball, and then, with a certainty, she knew that the Keeper was not going to protect the center of the net; he was going to go right. She didn’t know how she knew this; it was just there, the only option that glowed with light. She kicked the ball and scored -- eight to two.
As she walked past Edge, she rubbed her fingernails adroitly on her shirt and blew on them. “Just luck.”
The game continued.
It seemed that the harder the Terminators pressed, the louder Mr. Bone yelled, and the worse they got. The score was soon eight to six! Even though the Terminators were getting plenty of shots on Tan, he seemed to have suction cups attached to his gloves; nothing could get by him. At first he looked as surprised as Edge did, but then a mantle of quiet confidence seemed to settle over him. Nothing would be getting by him.
Had they not simply run out of time, The Noodles might have even won their first game. Nevertheless, as the final two long blasts of the whistle sounded, they celebrated again, everybody jumping up and down and then piling on the horrified Tan who tried, without success, to get away. Sergeant Peary imitated the infuriated Coach Bone by screaming hoarsely into the air, while Grandma Li went back to reading her book. Edge glowered across the field at them. Somehow, his father’s fury was their fault, and they would pay for it. Colin just shrugged. Even though they still lost, it felt like they had won, and he liked how it felt.
