Chapter 11
On Sunday, practice with Banks was grueling but shorter than usual. Cory started with the same warmup as the week before: sprinting to the ball, curling around it, and sprinting back. After a brief rest, Banks threw high balls to the upper corners of the goal. Cory stood in ready position with knees bent, palms out, and leaning forward on the balls of his feet. Banks tossed the ball towards a corner and barked "GO!" Cory dove as far as possible to block the ball with outstretched arms. It was hard on his hips and elbows, landing on them over and over again, but the weeks of practice with Banks had toughened him up. And, with Banks' corrections, Cory improved his diving and landing form. After rest, he managed to stop more balls the second time around.
"You're going to do well in the championship tomorrow," Banks said. Cory was resting between drills. He looked up, wondering how Mr. Banks knew about the championship game. Already, it was the end of the season, and Grandview had managed enough wins to be tied for first place with West. A special playoff game was set up for Monday to decide a league champion.
But Mr. Banks was not part of the school and nothing had been printed in the local newspaper about this game. It had been scheduled too late for publicity. The only person Cory had told was his mother. "How did you know about the championship game?"
Banks was silent for a moment. "I overheard some people talking about it at the check-out in the grocery store last night."
Cory thought for a moment. "You think I'll do okay?"
"Yes," he said. "You've improved your speed and your diving." Banks tossed a ball at Cory, who caught it. "Remember to always watch your opponent. Always pay attention to what they do, especially without the ball."
"Okay."
Just then, Gene appeared, riding across the parking lot. He jumped his bike up the sidewalk and pedaled frantically across the grass over to the soccer field. He rode around behind the goal and dropped his bike.
"Hi, Cory," he said, a little out of breath. He turned to Tony Banks. "Um, hi Mr. . . ."
"Banks," Cory blurted, somewhat angry at the intrusion. Cory held the soccer ball Banks had tossed. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
"Your mom wanted me to ask you to come home," Gene said.
Cory was confused for a moment, then flashed back to when he'd run out of the house earlier.
"We're not done yet," he said, bouncing the ball hard a couple times.
"That's okay," Mr. Banks interrupted. "We covered enough. You need to rest up for tomorrow's game."
"What about break aways?" Cory asked.
"You're as ready as you're going to be," Banks assured him, then smiled.
Cory felt a sudden surge of pride, but was still disappointed at the abrupt end to practice. He picked up his gear and put it in his pack as Banks gathered the soccer balls. Five minutes later, he and Gene were riding out of Lions Park. Neither boy talked for a couple blocks. The high desert wind began to blow, buffeting the boys as they rode. The sky was cloudless with the eye-piercing blue so common day after day. Gene pumped his legs faster to catch up to Cory, who was four bike lengths in front of him. Cory did not slow down.
"Cory!" Gene gasped. "Slow down!" Gene slowly caught up even with Cory. "Hey! Stop, will ya?"
Gene was struggling to keep up while Cory just pedaled faster, looking straight ahead, ignoring Gene.
"Come on, man," Gene shouted. "Stop!"
Cory suddenly braked and watched as Gene shot past him several yards before skidding to a halt.
"What?" Cory yelled, swatting and missing a plastic bag blowing past his face. The wind whipped it aimlessly until it snagged on the crooked branches of a creosote bush. "I thought you said my mom wanted me home."
"Well," Gene responded sheepishly, backing up his bike without getting off. He looked awkward. When he was even with Cory, he saw Cory's expression and shifted his bike sideways to put another foot between them. Cory was getting angrier as he watched Gene's antics.
"Look, man," Gene started to say.
"Stop saying man!" shouted Cory. "Talk normal, okay?"
Gene looked down at the pavement, then back at Cory.
"Look, ma--" Gene clapped his mouth shut, then spoke slowly. "I was riding down Mandan this morning . . ." He paused, staring at Cory. Cory spread his arms, palms up. "Look, Cory," Gene stammered. "Your mom didn't ask me to come and get you."
"What?"
Gene talked quickly now, afraid he would not have time to get the words out. "I was riding down Mandan and saw your mom's boyfriend and Mr. Banks talking in a driveway. I guess it was Mr. Banks' house. Then they went inside."
"Bull!" Cory shouted. He'd had enough, and this was unbelievable. And to hear him use the words "your mom's boyfriend" really set him off!
"You're lying!"
"I am definitely not!" Gene snapped back. "I know it was Allen and that Mr. Banks. If you don't believe me, meet me at the corner of Longview and Mandan at four o'clock and I'll show you!"
"You're jealous, aren't you?"
"Jealous?" Gene shouted back, his voice squeaking.
"Yeah! You're jealous and making up this lie because I've got someone else to help me with soccer. And he's better than your crappy computer program!" Gene went quiet and simply stared wide-eyed at Cory. Cory raved on. "And I'm not going to meet you anywhere at four o'clock! I'm going over to Turner's this afternoon."
"Tim Turner?" Gene gasped. "Your going to that intellectual deadhead's house?"
"Hey! You're talking about my friend!"
Suddenly, Gene put feet to pedals and started riding off, went ten feet, and made a semi-circle back to Cory. "I thought I was your friend," Gene shouted. Cory noticed a waver in his voice. "And don't believe me about Allen and Mr. Banks. I don't care!" Gene paused. "Only, a friend wouldn't lie!"
Gene rode off without looking back. Cory looked after him and then hopped back onto his bike and started pedaling. He decided to turn onto another street so he wouldn't be following Gene. "I can't believe that jerk," he thought, as he shifted into a higher gear. "Allen and Mr. Banks? Right!" Cory was so wrapped up in his anger at Gene, he mistakenly passed his own street and had to take another route to get back to Longview. As he swung the bike onto another street, he forced himself to think about tomorrow's championship game and going to Tim's in a couple hours.
"Who needs that geek, anyway?" he thought, coasting into his driveway. Nobody was home. He was glad. He had two hours to get cleaned up and over to Tim's. He thought about WWF as he opened the garage door and entered the kitchen. He wondered if he would like it.
Cory's in Goal Page 11