Cody and the Heart of a Champion

by Tricia Springstubb

  The only problem was, the museum had nothing in it.

  “What kind of museum is it?” she asked.

  “A special kind.”

  Cody sneezed. Spencer could have said, I told you you’d get a cold. But he was not an I-told-you-so type. Instead, he crawled out to get her some

  tissues.

  Cody waited. Someone climbed the front steps. Stomp-stomp! It must be Mr. Meen, who killed bugs for a living and wore heavy steel-toed boots. Stomp-stomp! Cody tried not to giggle. He’d never guess she was under here!

  Spencer came back with tissues, a blanket, a thermos of cocoa, two mugs, marshmallows, and MewMew, GG’s old, adorable deaf cat. The blanket felt wonderful. MewMew thought so, too. She snuggled in Cody’s lap and began to purr.

  Spencer poured the cocoa. He’d even put in marshmallows, Cody’s number-one food. The three of them sat, peacefully sipping and purring.

  “I think this should be a clubhouse instead of a museum,” Cody said.

  Remember about arguing with Spencer? Like arguing with a stone wall?

  “Okay,” she said at last. “It’s a museum. I’ll make the signs that tell what things are. And why they’re amazing.”

  “That would be good,” said Spencer. “That would be very good, in my opinion.”

  The wind huffed and puffed, but it couldn’t get them under the porch. Under the porch, nobody could see them. All the rest of the world seemed far, far away.

  Maybe this was how it felt to be an ant, snug and hibernating underground with your best buddies.

  As much as Spencer hated surprises, that was how much Cody loved them. But even for a surprise lover, three in one night was a bit much.

  Surprise #1: When Cody got home, Payton Underwood was sitting on the living-room couch. So were Wyatt and Mom. They were watching basketball.

  “Did you see that fadeaway?” cried Payton. “Is LeBron insanely good or what?”

  “Insanely,” said Mom.

  “I’m such a fan.”

  “Me too.”

  Mom and Payton reached over Wyatt’s head and high-fived. Wyatt looked confused. He scratched his stiff-as-glue head. He tugged his collar.

  Strange. Strange times three.

  Surprise #2: Dad had news.

  “Pearl called. She said you’re on the same team with her and . . . was it Jefferson?” He wiped his hands on his apron and gave her a hug. “Congratulations, Little Seed! Looks like you’re a soccer player.”

  Surprise #3: Mom wouldn’t fix her apple-red jacket.

  “It’s too small. You need a new one.”

  “No, I don’t. I need this one.”

  “The store just got in some darling reversible jackets. I’ll bring you one.”

  Cody’s nose itched. Her eyes prickled. Her evil cold was taking over her entire body. Out of the blue, she felt tired and used up. Like an old jacket. A jacket that once was new but got tossed in a scrap heap. Never to be worn or loved again. That made her so sad, tears spurted into her eyes.

  “Oh, honey.” Mom pulled her close. Cody breathed in her mother’s wonderful perfume, which was called Love Potion Number Nine. “All right. I’ll fix it. But I’m warning you, it will only rip again.”

  No, it wouldn’t. Because Cody was going to be extra, extra, super-duper careful.

  The next morning, the tree outside her window tap-tapped on the glass. This was tree for “Help! Winter has me back in its clutches!”

  Cody trudged into the kitchen. Sweet Mom had kept her promise and mended the jacket. But Mean Mom said it was too cold to wear it.

  It was freezing out. Ha-ha! cackled winter. I, evil winter, rule the world!

  Cody left her toast crusts for the ants. Just in case.

  On the walk to school, Spencer was unnaturally quiet. Cody asked if he found out what kind of baby it was. He shook his head. She asked if he’d tell her what kind of museum it was. More head shaking. She asked if something was wrong. Spencer hesitated. His chin went up. Then it went sideways. Then back down.

  “Is that a yes or a no?” Cody asked.

  Before he could make up his mind, Pearl and Madison raced toward them.

  “Teammates! Teammates!” They grabbed Cody’s hands and started jumping up and down.

  “This is going to be epic!” said Madison. “Last year, the grown-ups said it was a tie, no matter what. But this year, they’ll keep real score. Somebody will win. And guess who it will be?”

  “Who?” asked Cody.

  “Duh!” said Madison. “Us!”

  “We’ll be nice to the losers, though,” said Pearl.

  They all did more jumping up and down. Cody’s hat popped off and Spencer picked it up for her.

  Spencer’s parents worked at home, and they kid-sat Cody after school. This afternoon, the Meen kids, Molly and Maxie, were in the backyard. The Meens often lived up to their name. But not always. In this life, some people keep you on your toes.

  Molly and Maxie were busy dragging chairs out into the backyard.

  “What are you doing?” asked Spencer.

  “What does it look like?” said Molly.

  It looked like they were putting kitchen chairs all over the yard.

  “They’re hurt-alls,” said her little sister.

  “Hurdles,” corrected Molly. She crouched down. “Runners, take your marks.” She tilted forward. “Set.” She shot her finger in the air. “Bang!”

  She was off. When she came to a chair, she threw one leg out and sailed over. Wow. It looked impossible and easy at the same time. After the last chair, Molly pumped her fists.

  “Two, four, seven, eight!” cheered Maxie. “Molly Meen is really great!”

  “I’m training to be an Olympic track star,” Molly said.

  “I’m training to be a cheerleader,” Maxie said.

  While Molly practiced hurdling, Cody tried to teach Maxie to do a cartwheel. In this life, you never know how complicated something is till you try to teach somebody else.

  By the time Cody looked around for Spencer, he had disappeared. She went inside to find him.

  The kitchen was a disaster zone. An avalanche of dishes, cups, papers, books, and LEGOs buried everything. Spencer’s father, Mr. Pickett, stood by the sink. He was using a cutting board for a desk.

  In the dining room, Mrs. Pickett was typing and talking into a headset. She looked the same as ever. Could she really have a baby inside? It must be like the spring flowers and the ants, patiently waiting inside the earth.

  Stepping over toys and shoes and MewMew, Cody went to the front door and out on the porch. Nobody.

  “Down here,” said a voice from below.

  Cody jumped down the steps. She crawled into the museum.

  “It’s okay if you’re not good at sports,” she told Spencer. “You don’t have to feel bad.”

  “I don’t feel bad,” he said. “I just wanted to get to work here.”

  He pointed at a tube of paper lying on the rug.

  “Could you help me hang this up?”

  The tube looked strangely familiar. As Cody unrolled it, she knew why.

  “It’s the WELCOME SPENCER banner from when you moved here!” She and GG had made it together. GG had written the words, and Cody had drawn the ants. “I didn’t know you kept it all this time.”

  It took a gazillion pieces of tape to stick it to the wall, but at last the banner was up. They gazed at it with eyes of pride.

  “Maybe we should cross out SPENCER and write TO THE MUSEUM instead,” Cody suggested.

  Spencer shook his round head. Fine. Using a crayon and an index card, Cody made this label:

  It must be an art museum, she thought.

  “¿Hola?” called a voice. “¿Mi hermana?”

  Cody crawled back out. There stood Wyatt.

  And Payton.

  That pesky girl was everywhere these days. She pulled out her lip gloss and smeared some on.

  “Is this your secret clubhouse?” she asked.

 
; “It’s not a clubhouse,” Cody said. “Besides, how could it be secret if you know about it?”

  Payton laughed. “You are crazy smart,” she said. “Just like your big brother.” She gazed up at Wyatt with eyes of you-are-so-the-one.

  Mush. You could practically see it leaking out Wyatt’s ears.

  Mom bought Cody shiny orange shorts and long orange socks to match her cleats.

  “Do I look like a Creamsicle?” Cody asked Pearl as they rode to practice.

  “You look epic!”

  Pearl’s mother was driving them. Cody sat in back, between the twins in their car seats. Her tummy was full of butterflies. Or dragonflies. Or flying cockroaches.

  Good thing she didn’t eat any pancakes.

  When they got out of the car, the twins called, “Bye-bye, sistaw!” They waved their sippy cups.

  “Being a baby is so easy,” said Cody. “All you have to do is eat, sleep, and play.”

  “Tell me about it,” said Pearl. “But they don’t get to play soccer like us!”

  Their coach’s name was Yazmin. She wore a whistle and a sweatshirt that said COACH Y! She told them each to get a ball and practice dribbling.

  Cody laughed. Dribbling was what the twins did when they drank from their sippy cups! But what do you know? Dribble also meant “kick the ball a little at a time.”

  Surprise City. That was soccer.

  Ball dribbling was harder than it looked. Cody and Pearl could not get the hang of it. The ball went wherever it wanted.

  “Cody, are you left- or right-handed?” Coach Y! asked.

  “I’m training to be ambidextrous. But I’m still mostly left-handed.”

  “I knew it. You’re probably left-footed. Switch feet and try.”

  Whoa. That was easier. Now the coach coached Pearl. For a long time. Somehow Pearl couldn’t get the hang of things.

  Another soccer surprise. Pearl was usually excellent at everything.

  Time for drills. The drills had names like Keep Your Yard Clean and Knock Out. The team kicked and ran, ran and kicked. Cody’s legs felt like those old rubber bands you find in the back of a drawer. Her nose began to itch. Uh-oh. Here came a sneeze. The enormous, squinch-your-eyes kind.

  A-choo!

  Whomp!

  She crashed into Madison. They both toppled to the ground.

  “I’m sorry!” Cody said. “Are you okay?”

  “Forget it.” Madison did a snort. “That was nothing. I’ve been knocked down ten times harder than that.”

  “You have?”

  “Soccer is not for weaklings,” said Madison.

  When Pearl’s mother came to pick them up, the twins were in their jammies. They smelled like powder and lotion. And like the bananas they were smushing all over everything.

  “Cody was epic,” Pearl told her mother. “Way better than me.”

  “I was not,” said Cody.

  “Was so.”

  “Not.”

  “So.”

  “Not.”

  “So.”

  The twins thought this was hilarious. They kicked their jammie feet. They waved their bananas around like mushy swords.

  “Is that banana in your hair?” Mom asked at dinner.

  Cody was too tired to explain.

  After they cleared the table, she followed Wyatt into his room. Gremlin came, too. Gremlin used to belong to Wyatt and still enjoyed visiting him. He and Cody rested their heads on Wyatt’s pillow, which smelled like anti-pimple soap. It was interesting how a smell could be disgusting but you still liked it because it was the smell of someone you loved.

  Wyatt had whipped off his collar shirt as soon as he got home from school. In his ancient, holey T-shirt, he looked much more Wyatt-ish.

  “Guess what?” she said. “I’m left-footed.”

  “Awesome,” he said. “That’s a recessive gene.”

  When Wyatt’s brain wasn’t turned to mush, it was wall-to-wall information. It was an information storehouse in there.

  Bidda-la-beep went his phone. A text. Then another one. And another one. If you are wondering who was sending them, you have not been paying very good attention.

  “Payton is an epic pest these days,” said Cody.

  “That’s because we’re officially boyfriend and girlfriend.”

  “You are?” Cody sat up.

  “Payton decided she’s mature enough for a committed relationship,” he said.

  Cody wasn’t sure what mature meant, but it sounded dangerous. Wyatt’s face was hard to figure out. It reminded Cody of the man in the moon. Beaming. But also kind of worried.

  Bidda-la-beep!

  “I’ll never get my chemistry done.” He ran a hand over his hair. It did not move. Even outside, in the fierce bully wind, his hair did not move. “Plus I have a killer math test tomorrow.”

  “Give me the phone. I’ll text her for you.”

  “Very funny.”

  A-choo!

  “Hey, cover that sneeze, please.”

  “I hate this cold.” Cody flopped back down. “Spencer warned me not to take off my jacket.”

  “You don’t get a cold from taking off your jacket. You have to come in contact with a highly contagious rhinovirus.”

  Bidda-la-beep!

  Cody wondered if a rhinovirus had a tusk. And little beady eyes. Wyatt would know, but he had to study. And keep answering all those texts. Still, she had one more thing to tell him.

  “Madison said soccer is not for weaklings.”

  “No problema,” said Wyatt. “The last thing you are is a weakling.”

  Cody wanted to hug her brother. But she knew he’d put her in a Houdini headlock, so she hugged Gremlin instead.

  Bidda-la-beep!

  First thing every day, Cody checked on the ants. She called, “Hello? Hello down there?” She sang “You Are My Sunshine.” She put her ear to the ground and listened for activity.

  All was still. All was silent.

  Every morning, she left some crumbs, in case today was the day. But she was starting to get worried about her underground friends.

  “I have violin tomorrow morning,” Spencer said on Friday. “So I’m going to work on the museum in the afternoon.”

  “But I have a soccer game in the afternoon!”

  “Our schedules conflict. That happens to my parents all the time.”

  “We can work on it after church on Sunday.”

  “I don’t know.” Blink-blink went Spencer’s eyes. “I might be busy.”

  “Busy with what?”

  “The baby. We have to get ready.”

  What did they have to get ready? Babies needed a lot of diapers, Cody knew that. But how long would it take to buy diapers?

  “My mother keeps puking,” Spencer said.

  Nobody likes puking. But Spencer was especially sensitive. Once, a girl in his class threw up on his shoes and he had to go home, too, because he was so upset.

  “Just the smell of food turns her green. MewMew has to eat down in the basement, because cat food sends her right over the edge.”

  Poor MewMew. Poor Mrs. Pickett. This baby wasn’t even born, and it was already changing everything.

  Cody’s soccer jersey was red and black. Her number was 6. Not one of her favorites, but you didn’t get to choose.

  Before the game, Coach Y! called a huddle.

  “I’m proud of how hard you’ve worked in practice,” she told the team. “Try to remember what you’ve learned. Focus. Communicate. Most of all, remember our motto. What’s our motto?”

  “We, not me!” they yelled.

  Dad was on the road, but Mom was there. Even though Saturday was the busiest day at O’Becker, she had taken off. That made Cody happy. Also a little nervous. What if their team was no good? What if Mom wasted her precious time off for nothing?

  “I hope we win,” Cody told Pearl as they put on their shin guards.

  “Winning is not the most important thing,” said Pearl.

  “I k
now. But it’s pretty important.”

  “I wish I was half as good as Madison.”

  “Me too. I wish we were both star players.”

  “I can’t even dribble right.”

  “Just try your best.”

  Pearl’s nose wrinkled. A-choo!

  “Are we ready, team?” cried Coach Y!

  Madison was a striker. Pearl was a defender. Cody was a midfielder. They each had different jobs to do, though Cody wasn’t so exactly 100 percent sure about it all.

  Kickoff!

  Playing soccer was a lot like sneezing. It set your brain on blink. All you could think about was Right this second. Run this way, run that way, try for the ball, miss the ball, run some more. All around you, everyone was doing the same thing, except when the referee blew the whistle, which, thank goodness, meant “Stop and catch your breath.”

  At halftime, they chewed on oranges. The coach said they were doing fantastic.

  “Not!” Madison shook her head. She made eyes of disaster. “We’re down by one!”

  “Easy does it.” Coach Y! put a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s just play our game.”

  After halftime, the teams changed sides. Cody remembered to run the opposite way. She remembered to dribble with her left foot. She remembered to pass only to people on her own team.

  On the sidelines, Mom cheered. “Good job, number six! That’s the way!”

  Cody waved at her. Mom waved back. Everybody started yelling. For a tiny second, Cody thought they were cheering for her. Which felt so nice! But then she realized. Madison had just scored. The game was tied!

  The coach took out Cody and Pearl and sent in two other girls. Cody and Pearl sucked their water bottles.

  “It’s all up to Madison,” said Pearl.

  Cody was surprised. “That’s not what the coach says. She says it’s up to us all together.”

  Pearl sneezed but did not take her eyes off the field.

  “Madison is our only chance,” she said.

  That was when everybody started yelling again. Madison had the ball! She charged down the field, zeroing in on the net. The goalie darted back and forth, waving her giant gloves. Madison zigged. She zagged. Her eyes were narrow. Her jaw was set. There was no stopping her!