Lacrosse Face-Off

by Matt Christopher

  “Nothing. I thought I saw a dollar bill back there, but it was just a piece of trash.” Garry picked up his equipment bag. “Where's Todd?”

  His mother pointed toward the parking lot. “There, with Jeff. He said something about dueling cards.” She looked closely at Garry. “Why? Did you need him for something? If you hurry, you can probably catch him before they take off.”

  Garry shook his head. “No, that's okay. I'll see him at home later, I guess.”

  He and his mother were heading home when suddenly she swerved into the library parking lot. “I almost forgot! I promised Dad I'd get him a new audiobook to listen to in the car. Why don't you come in with me and find something good to read while I'm looking?”

  Garry sighed but opened the door and followed her into the building. While she hurried off to the adult section, he wandered into the youth area. He was browsing through some paperbacks when he heard a funny noise.

  Thock! Thock! Thock!

  It was coming from outside. Garry peered through a side window but didn't see anything. He listened again and realized the noise was loudest toward the back of the building. Curious, he decided to investigate.

  He hurried out the front entrance and down the stone steps and started around the building. The noise was definitely coming from around the next corner. He was just about to head that way when he heard someone yell his name.

  “Garry! Where are you?” It was his mother, standing at the top of the steps, and she sounded angry.

  “Be right there, Mom!” As he waved to her, he heard muffled voices and the sound of footsteps running away. He listened closely but didn't hear anything else. Even the strange noise had stopped.

  He ran around to the back of the building. There he found a small paved area just big enough for a few cars to park in. There were no cars there now, however—or anything else, for that matter. Whoever had been making the sound had left.

  He had turned to join his mother when something in the grass caught his eye. He walked over and picked it up. It was his brother's stack of monster-and-magician cards. He would have recognized it anywhere.

  He stood still, pondering his discovery. His mother had said that Todd was going to be trading cards with Jeff. That meant Todd had to have had the cards with him. Since the cards are here, Garry thought, Todd must have been here too. And that meant that Todd had been the one making the strange noise!

  But what was the noise, and why had Todd abandoned his cards?

  Just then his mother called his name again—and that's when Garry figured it out. Todd must have heard them calling to each other before. And when he did, he ran away, leaving his cards behind in his haste.

  He hadn't been alone, though, because Garry had definitely heard two people talking. Jeff must have been there too. And when they realized I was nearby, they took off! The image of the two boys dropping everything in order to get away from him hit him like a wet sock in the face.

  “Garry, please hurry! I have to get home!” His mother sounded impatient.

  He looked down at the cards in his hands. If his mother saw them she'd wonder what he was doing with them. He didn't really feel like explaining why Todd had left them behind. So when she called again, he whipped off his sweatshirt and wrapped the cards inside it.

  11

  Garry planned to give Todd his cards back right away. But when he and his mother returned home, there was a message on the answering machine. It was Todd, calling to see if he could sleep at Jeffs house that night. Garry could hear Jeff laughing in the background and Todd shushing him, but laughing too. Jealousy bubbled up inside Garry, and instead of putting the cards in Todd's room, he decided to stuff them, still wrapped in his sweatshirt, into the back of his closet.

  When he finally saw his brother the next afternoon, he didn't say anything about the cards. Neither did Todd, although for a moment he looked as if he wanted to ask Garry something. Then he closed his mouth and turned away. The cards stayed hidden in Garry's closet.

  “My goodness, you boys are so quiet tonight!” Mrs. Wallis observed at the dinner table later that evening.

  “Just tired, I guess,” Todd mumbled.

  “Let me guess. You and Jeff stayed up all last night dueling those cards,” she said.

  Todd looked up quickly, then dropped his eyes to his plate again. “You guessed it, all right.”

  She shook her head and smiled. “Well, there are worse things you could be doing, I suppose.”

  Yeah, like treating your brother like he has the plague! Garry thought. He stole a look at Todd, but he was pretending to be fascinated by his peas.

  The brothers continued to avoid each other the next morning. Then Todd took off for Jeff's house, promising to return in time for supper.

  “You know, you can have Jeff come over here sometimes too!” Mr. Wallis called out as Todd hopped onto his bike.

  “That's okay, Dad,” Todd replied. “We kind of like being there better.”

  “Well, maybe Garry would like to go with you. Where is he?” Mr. Wallis put down his paper and looked around. Garry ducked into the bathroom. By the time he came back out, Todd was long gone.

  In fact, the next time Garry and Todd were anywhere near each other was at the lacrosse field on Monday afternoon. And even then they managed to steer clear of each other until the coach called the team together to outline a new drill.

  “We're going to work on transitioning from defense to fast breaks today,” the coach told them. “Using the whole field, we'll start play down by one goal. The defense will have control of the ball. They'll outlet a pass to a mid-die. That middie will carry the ball over the midfield. Running ahead of him will be the three attackers. The object will be for the offense to drive the ball as quickly as they can from one end of the field to the other. Then I want to see no less than three passes before a shot into the goal. Quick, accurate passes are key, as is running at top speed with the ball. We'll work the drill with offense only at first, then add in some defense.”

  He broke the team into two groups of ten, assigned each player a position, and ordered the first group out onto the field. Garry and Michael were attackers for this group, as was Pedro. Jeff and Todd also took to the field. They were midfielders, along with Carl. Evan, Christopher, and Samuel played defense. Brandon was in goal.

  Coach Hasbrouck picked up a ball, blew his whistle to get the group's attention, and threw a grounder toward the goal. Brandon hesitated for a moment, then scooped up the ball and passed it to Samuel. Samuel moved forward a few steps and threw to Carl. Carl started to jog down the field but stopped when the coach blew a sharp blast on his whistle.

  “Ohh-kay,” Coach Hasbrouck said, trotting onto the field. “Maybe I wasn't clear. We're working on fast breaks here.” He reached up and plucked the ball out of Carl's pocket. “Fast means running, folks!”

  Michael raised his hand. “Uh, coach, why can't we start off with the defense team against us? I always play better when the situation is more, you know, competitive.”

  The coach nodded. “The defense will come in soon enough. First, I want you to practice moving the ball up the field. Tell you what, though"—he fished around in his pocket and pulled out a stopwatch—“if you really want to make it interesting, I'll time you. Ready? Set?” He threw the ball toward the goal. “Go!”

  This time, Brandon didn't hesitate. He scooped up the ball and tossed it to Jeff. Jeff snared it and took off at a dead run. At the same time, Garry, Michael, and Pedro bolted toward the opposite goal. When Jeff crossed the midfield line, he hurled the ball to Pedro. Pedro made a beautiful over-the-shoulder catch, twisted the pocket around, and threw to Garry. Garry softened the catch and sent the ball to Michael. The throw was a little low, but Michael caught it, swung his stick up, and flung the ball toward the goal.

  Clang!

  Instead of swishing into the net, the hard ball ricocheted off the top of the goal, flying high into the air before landing in the grass. Pedro scooped it up and jogged
back to the other end of the field. Garry and Michael followed.

  “Seriously, Garry, why don't you just roll me the ball next time?” Michael groused.

  Garry looked at him, with surprise. “Sorry,” he said. “I guess my throw was a little off.” And so was yours, he wanted to add.

  Michael glanced at him, then grunted. “Yeah, well, just don't do it again.”

  Coach Hasbrouck started the drill again. This time Christopher started with the ball. He threw a quick pass to Todd. The ball looked as though it was heading to Todd's stick side. But then, at the last moment, it curved toward his left shoulder. Garry groaned inwardly, knowing his brother would never be able to make an off-stick side catch.

  He was wrong. Todd whipped his stick in front of his face, made a perfect catch, and pivoted on one foot to face the attackers. Then his brother did something Garry had never seen him do before. Instead of moving his stick back to his right, he threw a weak side pass directly to Garry.

  The ball came so quickly that Garry almost fumbled the catch. But he held on and managed a good pass to Michael, Michael lobbed it to Pedro and called for a pass back. Pedro had other ideas. He faked a throw to Michael, then hurled the ball into the goal.

  Miohael had been so sure Pedro was going to throw to him that he'd taken a step forward, stick outstretched. When the ball didn't come, he was caught off balance and stumbled a few feet before righting himself.

  Garry knew better than to make any comment, but inside he silently applauded Pedro for his daring. He wasn't sure he'd have been brave enough to go up against Michael that way!

  12

  After they'd taken a few more trips down the field, Coach Hasbrouck called for Garry's squad to clear off so that the other group could practice the drill. When the second group was running the break smoothly, the coach, put away his stopwatch. He looked up at the sky, which was filling with dark, ominous-looking clouds. “Hmm, I think we'd better move this drill along. Group two, switch to defense. Group one, back onto the field. Let's see how you do against some competition.”

  The two teams battled each other for the rest of practice. By the time Coach Hasbrouck signaled for them to stop, the players were winded but feeling much more confident about working the fast break during a game situation.

  The coach called them together. “As you know, we have our first game the day after tomorrow. We'll be playing against the Bulldogs. From what I hear, their bark is worse than their bite”—the team laughed—“so I don't anticipate that we'll have any problems defeating them. Still, come back here tomorrow prepared to work hard.”

  As Garry collected his belongings, the storm clouds opened up, sending down a drenching rain. He hurried to the parking lot, where his mother was waiting. To his surprise, Todd followed.

  “What, you're not going to Jeff's again today?” he muttered as he slid into the back seat next to his brother.

  “I was. But since we couldn't, um Todd's voice trailed away.

  “Couldn't what?” Garry's mother asked.

  “Do what we'd planned to do,” Todd finished lamely, “we decided just to go home.”

  Garry thought about the cards, still balled up in his sweatshirt in his closet. He would have bet money that what Jeff and Todd had “planned to do” was trade cards and duel. He knew he should return the cards to their rightful owner, but for some reason he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

  The next morning the sun shone brightly and the air was full of warmth. Garry looked forward to the walk to school. He decided to wait for Todd, but when he asked his brother if he was ready to go, Todd shook his head.

  “I forgot something upstairs,” he said. “You go on ahead.”

  Garry was sure his brother was pretending he'd forgotten something just so he wouldn't have to walk with him. Well, if that's the way he wants it, fine, he thought. He slammed the door behind him and hurried away.

  He had just crested the first hill when an acorn struck him on top of the head. He looked up right as Evan swung down from the tree above him.

  “Do you live in that tree?” he asked Evan, rubbing his head. “Or do you just climb it because you're nuts about squirrels?” Or just plain nuts, he added silently.

  “Michael wants to know if you took care of that little problem we were talking about the other day,” Evan said.

  Garry shifted his backpack from one shoulder to the other. “You mean, have I asked my brother to quit the team? No.”

  Evan stepped toward him and jabbed him in the chest. “Well, you better get on it! The first game is only two days away, and Michael does not want T.T. on the same field as him.”

  Suddenly Garry decided he'd had enough of Evan, and of Michael too. “Yeah, okay, fine. I'm going to make Todd quit. That's right.” His voice was laced with sarcasm, which he was sure Evan wasn't smart enough to pick up on. In fact, he wasn't even sure Evan was listening to him. He seemed more interested in something behind Garry.

  Whatever, Garry thought. He pushed past Evan, neither wondering nor caring if the other boy was following him or not.

  At practice that afternoon Garry performed drills like a robot—moving however the play demanded but not getting any excitement or pleasure out of the game.

  Maybe I'm the one who should quit, he thought at one point.

  The only good part about the practice was the fact that Evan and Michael left him alone. Jeff and Todd didn't come near him either, although Garry thought Jeff seemed puzzled that he wasn't hanging out with Evan and Michael.

  Todd disappeared with Jeff again after practice, and Garry headed home with his mother. Garry's mind was so far away that she had to ask him twice to add the clothes he was wearing to the dirty ones already in the washing machine.

  “I did your brother's stuff earlier,” she said, “and with any luck I'll be done with yours before midnight!”

  Inside the bathroom, Garry stripped down; then he hurried back to his room to put on a clean set of sweats. He opened the drawer that usually held his sweatshirt collection, but it was empty. Then he remembered the sweatshirt in the back of his closet. He opened the closet door and felt around for it. His hands brushed past shoes, an old soccer ball, and something furry he couldn't identify, but no sweatshirt. He turned on the light, pushed his hanging clothes out of the way, and looked into the corner where he knew he'd thrown the sweatshirt. It wasn't there.

  Then it hit him. Todd, he thought.

  That morning, Todd had said to go on ahead without him because he'd forgotten something upstairs. I bet he wanted me out of the house so he could search my room for his precious monster-and-magician cards!

  Well, he'd found them. Then he'd taken the sweatshirt as his way of letting Garry know he'd found them.

  Garry slumped onto his bed and put his head into his hands. Now what? he thought. The ball was definitely on his side of the field, but he didn't know what to do with it.

  13

  Garry waited all through dinner that night for his brother to say something about the cards, the sweatshirt, or both. But the only thing Todd talked about was the game scheduled for the next day.

  “You'll be there, right, Mom?” he asked.

  “Wouldn't miss it!” she replied. She reached across the table to ruffle Todd's hair. Then she stopped and peered closely at her older son.

  “What?” Todd said, leaning back from her gaze.

  “You look different, somehow,” she answered, still staring.

  Todd flushed, a pleased smile spreading over his face. “Maybe,” he said shyly, “it's because I've lost a little weight. Four pounds, actually.”

  Now Garry stared at his brother too. It was the first time he'd really looked at him for days, and he realized that their mother was right. Todd did look different.

  Mrs. Wallis's eyes widened. “Four pounds! My goodness! All because of lacrosse?”

  Todd shrugged. “That's a big part of it, I guess. Plus I'm trying not to eat junky snacks so much. Coach Hasbrouck has been helping
me with that. Seems he used to have a weight problem too.”

  Garry tried to imagine the coach as a fat man and found he couldn't. “Wow, um, keep up the good work, Todd,” he finally said.

  Todd gave him a cool look. “Oh, I will,” he said. “After all,” he added, his voice suddenly full of meaning, “no matter what some people might want, I don't plan on quitting lacrosse. ”

  Garry choked on his potatoes.

  “Well, I hope not,” Mr. Wallis said as he thumped Garry on the back, “since it's done such a world of good for you.”

  Todd smiled at his parents, picked up his fork, and continued eating. Garry, on the other hand, couldn't swallow another bite.

  That night he lay in bed, unable to sleep because his mind was whirling. Somehow, Todd had found out that Garry was supposed to force him to quit. But how? And how could he explain that he'd refused? His brother would just think he was lying. After all, he'd practically stolen his cards, so what was to stop him from lying too?

  The next morning, Todd was gone by the time Garry got downstairs. In fact, he didn't see him all day. That suited him just fine. He still hadn't figured out what, if anything, he was going to say to his brother.

  When the final school bell rang, Garry hurried to the gym locker room to get ready for the game. Many of his teammates were already there, including Todd and Jeff. Garry was reaching into his locker to get his gear when he heard his brother give a sharp cry of horror. Garry peered around his locker door.

  Todd was staring at his lacrosse stick, his face filled with dismay. At first Garry couldn't see what was wrong. Then Todd reached into the pocket—but instead of stopping at the mesh, his hand passed right through. Someone had slashed the netting to ribbons!

  The realization had scarcely crossed Garry's mind when Todd came charging toward him, looking angrier than Garry had ever seen him in his life.

  “You did this, didn't you?” his brother yelled.

  Garry recoiled in shock. “What? No, I didn't!” he protested.