Garry started to protest that he’d never set foot on that side, but the fire chief raised a hand to keep him quiet.
“Are you certain?” the chief asked quietly. “Because Garry just told us he was on the boulder when he heard you call.”
Scottie blinked in confusion. “I-I thought I saw him. He had on a Rockets sweatshirt.” He turned thoughtful. “But come to think of it, I never saw his face because he had his hood up.”
Garry gave a sharp cry. “But my sweatshirt doesn’t have a hood! I cut it off! See?” He held up his sweatshirt for the chief to inspect.
Scottie grabbed Garry’s arm then. “Wait a sec! Remember how I asked how you got to me so quickly?”
“Yeah, so?” Then Garry’s eyes widened as he realized what Scottie was driving at. “You thought I had crossed the river and reappeared here, which would have been impossible in that short amount of time! But it wasn’t me, it was someone in a hooded sweatshirt!”
“Hold on,” Coach Hasbrouck interjected. “Are you saying there was another Rocket out here?”
Scottie nodded vigorously. “There must have been.”
“Could you identify him?”
The Thunder goalkeeper thought for a moment and then shook his head. “I only saw him for a second. Then I slipped on the rock and fell in the water.”
But Garry had been thinking hard. Now he cleared his throat. “Um, Coach, I think I might know who it was.”
They all looked at him.
“If I did drop those matches when I tripped, then the other person who was out here could have found them. He could even have started the fire.”
“Go on,” Coach Hasbrouck encouraged.
Garry bit his lip. “Michael has the matches, sir. He showed me the box just a little while ago. And he owns a Rockets sweatshirt like mine. Only his has a hood on it still.”
The coach blew out a long breath. “Garry, what you are saying is very serious. And I know that you and Michael don’t get along.”
“Coach,” Garry said urgently, “I’m not making it up just to get Michael in trouble. Honest! Ask Michael about those matches if you don’t believe me!”
“Unfortunately, son, it would be your word against his,” the Thunder coach pointed out. “As grateful to you as I am for rescuing Scottie here, I’m not sure who I’d believe — the boy who’s just confessed to lighting matches in the woods, or the boy who reported the fire. There’s no proof that this Michael was out here or that he even has the matches!”
“But the figure in the hooded sweatshirt —” Garry began.
“ — could have been anyone,” Coach Hasbrouck finished.
15
The group left the woods soon after, having come to no final conclusions about the matter. Garry returned to his cabin and lay down on his bunk feeling completely dejected.
Well, at least one good thing came out of this, he thought sourly. Now that I’ve confessed, I won’t have to help Michael get that top scorer award.
Then he sat up, thinking. A slow smile crossed his lips.
If I don’t feed him the ball the next game, he’ll rat me out! “And to do that,” he whispered triumphantly, “he’ll have to show the coach the matches!”
Convinced that his plan would work, he jumped down from his bunk and set off to talk to his teammates — not to urge them to feed Michael the ball, as Michael had ordered him to do, but to ask them to do just the opposite!
The Rockets were scheduled to play the Bears right after lunch. Garry managed to explain the situation to Jeff and Todd and a few other teammates by then. He asked them to keep quiet to Michael’s loyal supporters, however — particularly Evan. They all agreed to help out.
Garry came to the field determined to play the best game of his life. But he put on a morose face so that Michael wouldn’t suspect anything. He spotted Scottie in the bleachers and hurried over to tell him what was happening too.
“Good luck, man, I’ll be rooting for you!” Scottie said.
Garry did his warm-up exercises with the rest of the team and then, when the referee blew a blast on his whistle, ran to his place in the wing area for the start of the game. Michael sauntered past him, shot him with a finger gun, and continued on to the center X.
“In your dreams, Donofrio,” Garry muttered.
The referee placed the ball between the Bears center attacker and Michael. He trotted back out of the way and blew another whistle blast. The game was on!
Michael usually had a quick stick on the face-off but this Bear was quicker. He raked the ball away before Michael could even flip his stick. Then, when Michael tried to poke it away, the Bear sent it rocketing through the grass to his teammate.
Garry charged out of the wing area, leveled his stick at the Bears ball carrier, and jabbed it at the shaft of his opponent’s stick. But the Bear twisted away and slashed his stick downward in an attempted pass back to his center. Unfortunately for him, he released the ball too late. Instead of flying through the air it struck the grass with a loud thud and bounced up and away, free to anyone who could get a stick on it.
That “anyone” wound up being Jeff. He caught it in his pocket on midbounce, darted around the Bears frustrated attacker, and fired a pass to Conor.
“Here!” Michael screamed. “Pass it here!”
Conor squared off as if to send it in Michael’s direction. Michael took off, holding up his stick to make an over-the-shoulder catch. But the pass never came, for after squaring off, Conor pivoted on one foot and lobbed the ball back to Jeff.
Michael, meanwhile, continued to run, holding his stick aloft like a standard-bearer holding a flag. When the ball didn’t come, he looked back and nearly collided with a Bears defender.
“Watch it, buddy, will ya?” the Bear growled just as Jeff flipped the ball over to Garry.
“Give it here, Wallis — or else!” Michael yelled.
Garry ignored him. He looked to Conor. Conor wasn’t open. Samuel was covered too, and Jeff was too far behind to send the ball there. That left Garry with three choices: keep the ball and hope he could get a shot off on goal; pass to Evan, who was coming up behind him; or pass to Michael, who was still yelling at him.
The decision was taken out of his hands when a Bears defender ran forward and stuck himself to Garry like glue. Since Garry refused to pass to Michael, he sent the ball back to Evan.
“It’ll reach Michael anyhow,” he muttered.
But to his surprise, Evan didn’t automatically toss the ball to Michael. Rather, he twisted away from a Bears midfielder and fired the ball to Jeff, who was so surprised he nearly missed the catch.
But he managed to control it and get it to Conor. Conor’s stick whistled through the air as he slashed it sideways and rocketed the ball past the goalkeeper into the net. Goal!
“Yee-haa!” Conor leaped and twirled in midair, drawing laughs from the sidelines and his teammates. Only the Bears were silent.
They didn’t stay quiet for long, however, for once again the Bears center attacker took possession on the face-off. This time, he carried the ball halfway down the field before the Rockets midfielders could catch up to him. Jeff and Samuel double-teamed him but the Bear outfoxed them both, twisting away to feed the ball over to the attacker on his right.
Brandon was caught napping. The Bear barreled past him and confronted Christopher. The two mirrored one another for a moment before the Bear faked a throw that sent Christopher moving in the wrong direction. From there, it was just one swift, accurate throw and the Bears had tied it up 1–1.
As Garry headed back to the wing area for the face-off, he fully expected Michael to threaten him once again. He wasn’t disappointed.
“I’m warning you, Wallis,” the center attacker hissed. “Get me the ball or —”
“Lay off, Donofrio, will you?”
Garry’s jaw dropped in amazement. The retort hadn’t come from Jeff, or Conor, or even Carl.
It had come from Evan!
16
/> Evan’s moment of defiance toward Michael was astonishing — and more amazingly, it wasn’t his last that game!
Over and over, Michael all but ordered his most loyal lapdog to feed him the ball. And over and over, Evan sent the ball elsewhere. Michael, so used to simply taking the ball and running with it, spent much of his time dancing about in frustration with an empty pocket.
The Rockets, meanwhile, were busy working different plays the coach had taught them during countless practices. Before long, it became obvious to them — and to many of those watching the game — that Michael didn’t have a clue how those plays were supposed to go.
“Michael, you’re supposed to run behind the net, not in front of it,” Evan bellowed after one botched play turned into a fast break — and a successful goal — for the Bears.
“If I didn’t know any better,” Garry whispered to his brother as they hurried off the field for the halftime break, “I’d say Evan has a grudge against Michael!”
“It does seem like there is trouble in paradise!” Todd whispered back.
The trouble got worse — for Michael, anyway. When the second half began, the once-unstoppable attacker was left sitting on the bench while Todd took the face-off!
Todd might not have been a dynamo like Michael, but he was a complete team player. So was Pedro, who came off the bench to take Conor’s place. Together, the two subs moved the ball down the field so smoothly it looked like they were doing a simple passing drill. And when Todd slashed his stick downward and sent the ball into the lower right corner of the net to put the Rockets ahead by one, no one cheered louder than Garry.
And to think Michael wanted him off the team! he thought as he smiled proudly at Todd.
But that one-point advantage didn’t last long. The Bears controlled the ball after the next face-off and roared down the field in an all-out blitz on the goal. Carl and Eric stood their ground but Andrew, subbing for Brandon, hesitated in the face of the onslaught. When he did finally move to cover his man, it was too late. The Bear, a huge but fleet-footed boy, blew by him with the ball safely cradled in his stick pocket.
Christopher came out of the goal to cut him off, but when he did, another Bear sidled in, received a pass, and angled the ball past the Rockets goalie. Tied game again.
The score stayed even throughout the third quarter, and into the fourth. Garry was beginning to wonder if either team would ever break through when Samuel got the ball and yelled, “Middie sweep!”
The Rockets had tried the play a few times earlier in the game without success. But that was when Michael had still been on the field. This time, Todd was in the center attacker spot. Garry wondered for a split second if his brother, usually a midfielder, would know how to run the play from that position.
He needn’t have worried. When not playing lacrosse, Todd liked to play elaborate magician-and-monster role-playing games. To play games like that well, he had to know what each piece was up to at all times and keep track of his opponent’s action too. Now, Todd transferred those skills to the lacrosse field.
He planted himself at the top of the crease, ready to screen for Samuel. Samuel darted by him and looked to the goal, but even with Todd blocking the goalie’s view, he didn’t have a clear shot.
Now the ball went to Jeff. Once more, Todd set a screen — and this time, the play worked like a charm. Jeff darted to one side of Todd and laced in a perfect shot seconds before the goalie realized what he was up to.
The Rockets were up by one! That late-game goal seemed to deflate the Bears. When the game ended a few minutes later, the Rockets had pushed yet another goal across the line to win by two.
Garry cheered with the rest of his team and then, winded from playing the entire game, headed to the bench for a much-needed rest. But any thought of relaxing went out the window when Michael planted himself on the bench beside him.
“You are really in for it, you know that?” the attacker threatened. “If I don’t score several times the next game, you are dead!”
Garry took off his helmet, ran his fingers through his sweaty hair, and put on a puzzled look. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t you actually have to be in the game in order to score?”
Garry had often heard the expression “so angry his head exploded.” But he didn’t really get what it meant until just then. Michael’s eyes bugged out, his nostrils flared, his face turned beet red, and his lips pulled back in a snarl. Garry actually leaned back, certain his nemesis was about to lose it completely.
But Michael just stood up and shook a finger in Garry’s face. “You just kissed your place on this team goodbye, Wallis!”
He whirled around and thundered over to Coach Hasbrouck. “Coach, I have something I think you, and the authorities, will be very interested in seeing!” he cried. With a triumphant flourish, he reached into his duffel bag and pulled out the matchbox.
The coach looked at the box for a long moment. “You know, Michael,” he said finally, “I think you’re right. I think the authorities are going to be very interested in seeing this. But tell me something first.”
He fixed the boy with a steely stare. “Where exactly did you get these matches, and why are you carrying them around in your duffel bag?”
17
Michael blinked. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. At last, he jerked a thumb at Garry.
“They’re his!” he blurted. “He’s the one who started the fire!”
“You saw him?” the coach asked calmly.
Now Michael puffed out his chest. “I sure did! He was lighting matches up on that big boulder! And … and …” Suddenly, he faltered.
“And?” Coach Hasbrouck prompted.
Now Michael clamped his mouth shut and didn’t open it.
“I’ll tell you what happened, Coach,” came a new voice.
Garry stared at the speaker, dumbfounded. “Evan?”
Several other Rockets looked up with interest.
“E-man, my friend, what’re you doing?” Michael said.
Evan held up a hand in warning. “Don’t ‘E-man’ me, Donofrio. I’m sick and tired of you and your stupid mind games!”
That caught the Rockets’ full attention. They gathered around to listen to what Evan had to say. Scottie came over from the stands too.
Evan turned back to the coach. “I was with him the other night in the woods. We followed Garry out there.” He shot Garry a quick look of apology. “I honestly don’t know what Michael planned to do if we found you. I just hope I would have had the guts to stop him if … well, you know.”
Garry nodded grimly.
“Anyway, when we didn’t find you right away, we split up. I went on one side of the river, Michael went on the other.” Now Evan looked at Scottie. “You thought I was Garry, didn’t you? When you shouted his name, I panicked and ran farther up the river. There’s a little footbridge up there. I crossed over and headed down the other side. That’s when I saw Michael light the match.”
“It’s a lie!” Michael yelled suddenly. He rounded on Evan. “You’re the one who lit the match, not me!”
Evan shook his head. “No, I’m the one who grabbed the cell phone from your sweatshirt pocket and called 9-1-1! You’re the one who freaked out when your match accidentally landed in that pile of sticks! You ran away, leaving me to deal with the flames!”
“Prove it!” Michael challenged.
At this, Evan grew silent. “I can’t,” he said finally.
Michael snorted. “Then it’s your word against mine, isn’t it?”
At this, the coach cleared his throat. “Actually, it may be Evan’s words against yours.” When everyone looked at him in confusion, he explained. “Emergency calls are recorded. That’s probably why the fire chief thought Michael had made the call, because Michael’s cell phone number showed up on the caller identification. But if we can hear the actual recording —”
“ — we’ll hear Evan’s voice, not Michael’s!” Garry finished exci
tedly.
Coach Hasbrouck nodded. “I think you two boys better come along with me to the fire station,” he said to Michael and Evan. “I’ll want the chief to hear your stories. The rest of you, shower up and get some dinner. Oh, and good game, Rockets!”
Garry, Scottie, and the rest of the Rockets murmured their thanks as the coach placed a firm hand on Michael’s shoulder and led him away. Evan followed.
“Wow,” Garry said after they’d gone. “That was …” But he couldn’t come up with a word to describe it.
“What do you suppose turned Evan against Michael?” Todd asked. “I mean, come on, he’s put up with so much from him for so long!”
Jeff screwed up his face as if in deep thought. “If I had to guess,” he mused, “I’d say the break came when Michael proclaimed himself a hero on that stage. I mean, it was hard enough for us to listen to. If Michael really ran from the fire like Evan said he did, think of how hard it must have been for Evan to stomach!”
They all broke out laughing at that image. “Speaking of stomach,” Garry said when they’d calmed down, “I’m famished! How about some dinner?”
They gathered their gear and began to walk toward their cabin. Scottie went with them. All at once, Garry stopped and grabbed the Thunder goalkeeper by the arm.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. When we played you yesterday, how did I get so many goals past you? And how did you stop so many of Michael’s shots? Usually he’s chalking them up left and right!”
Scottie grinned. “Bet he was pretty PO’d, wasn’t he?”
Garry nodded. “Yeah. In fact, he accused you of letting me score.”
Now Scottie laughed out loud. “And risk losing the game? Fat chance! I stopped Michael cold because I knew every time he got the ball near the goal he was going to try to score. It’s pretty easy to defend against someone when you know what they’re going to do. You? I couldn’t read you. That’s why you scored.”
Garry gave him a sidelong glance. “Did that make you mad? Because you wouldn’t even look at me after the game. That’s when I thought that you thought I’d started the fire.”
Lacrosse Firestorm Page 5
