Kevin’s head snapped around. “A fat lot you care! You’d probably be happy if my dog dropped dead right in front of you, wouldn’t you! Come on, Ranger, let’s get out of here!”
Jeff was stunned. Instinctively, he ran down the driveway after them.
He was too late. The darkness of the night had swallowed them up. Before long, he couldn’t even hear the sound of their footsteps. But Kevin’s words continued to resound in his ears, loud and clear.
15
As soon as Jeff got back to the house, he picked up the telephone and called Kevin.
The line was busy.
He tried again five minutes later. This time the call went through.
“Hi, Mrs. Leach? This is Jeff. Is Kevin there?” he asked. He heard her muffle the phone and call out for Kevin. Then she got back on the line.
“Kevin’s doing his homework right now, Jeff. He can’t come to the phone.”
“Oh,” said Jeff. “Well, could you tell him… tell him that I called? Thanks.” He hung up the phone.
I’ll corner him at school tomorrow, he promised himself, and find out what the heck this is all about!
The next morning Jeff arrived at school earlier than usual. He found his way to Kevin’s locker and waited for him to show up.
Kids came by, opened their lockers, put away their coats, took out books. But no Kevin.
Wonder if he’s home sick? Jeff thought.
Yet on his way to class, he spotted Kevin at the end of a long corridor. He was coming out of the administrative office.
Late, I guess, Jeff figured. He was just late, that’s all.
The two boys had one class together: history. Jeff was sure Kevin wouldn’t miss that. He decided to talk to him there.
But when he arrived, Kevin was up at the front of the room talking to Mr. Leone, their teacher. Jeff moved up closer, but there was no way he could interrupt their conversation. Finally, everyone but the two boys was seated.
“Whatever it is, Jeff, it’ll have to wait until after class. Take your seats, please, boys,” said Mr. Leone.
Frustrated, Jeff moved to his desk. Kevin’s chair was across the room, so he didn’t stand a chance of talking to him all period.
When the bell rang, Kevin was off like a flash. But Jeff was in hot pursuit.
“Just a minute, Jeffrey. Wasn’t there something you wanted to talk to me about?” Mr. Leone asked. Jeff slowed down long enough to say he’d figured it out on his own. But by the time he’d reached the hallway, Kevin was nowhere to be seen.
For the rest of the day, even at lunch, Kevin eluded him. It was only when they gathered for hockey practice that Jeff had his chance to confront him.
Even then, Jeff could tell it wasn’t going to do any good.
“Will you just tell me if I heard you right last night?” Jeff demanded.
Kevin simply stared at the floor and shook his head. He laced on his skates furiously and stomped on his runners out of the locker room without a word.
Jeff decided the only thing he could do was wait for Kevin to talk to him. For now, he’d just go through practice as usual.
But practice was anything but usual. Every time Coach Wallace teamed Jeff and Kevin up on the right side, Jeff felt as though he were playing with someone he’d never met before.
“I’ll bet you didn’t connect on one pass the whole time you were out there,” said Coach Wallace to the two of them when they were on the bench. “I suppose it had to happen sometime. I just hope that it’s not a permanent situation. I’d hate to have to rethink my starting lineup again. But maybe I’ll have to do just that.”
Jeff’s face didn’t show it, but his heart sank. He had tried so hard to earn his place on the team. He decided then and there that he wasn’t going to let some attitude of Kevin’s blow it for him.
When practice was over, Jeff was all set to make a beeline for Kevin. He was going to get to the bottom of things right away!
But on the way to the locker room, Bucky grabbed his arm. Jeff struggled to shake him loose, but Bucky held him tighter. “Listen,” he said. “Keep away from Kevin in there. I’ll talk to you after he’s gone.”
Jeff looked at Bucky with surprise and nodded. Maybe Bucky knew something about it. It was worth checking out, anyway.
When the locker room had cleared out, Bucky came over and sat next to Jeff.
“All I can tell you is that you’d better back off for a while,” he said. “Kevin hasn’t said much except that he’s really steamed about your note.”
“My note? What note?” Jeff demanded. “I don’t know anything about any note. What’s he talking about?”
“Search me,” Bucky said with a shrug. “I’m telling you everything I know. And giving you my advice to stay away from him until he cools down.”
But Jeff just couldn’t leave it that way. He’d gone a whole day without speaking to his best friend. He was determined that the next day would be different.
That night after dinner, he got permission to go to Kevin’s house. Instead of going around back as he usually did, he rang the front doorbell. He didn’t want to give Kevin a chance to hole up.
Kevin answered the door. Ranger was right behind him, swishing his tail and barking.
“Quiet, Ranger,” Kevin said. Then he looked at Jeff. “What do you want?”
Jeff drew a deep breath. The sight of Ranger had shaken him, but he knew he had to get by the dog in order to talk to Kevin. So, while Kevin stood with his hand on the doorknob, Jeff barged right in and headed for Kevin’s room.
“Hey! Wait a minute!” Kevin called. “Ranger, come on!” He followed Jeff into his room and demanded, “What do you think you’re doing?”
Jeff shut the door. “I don’t want anyone to interrupt us.”
Kevin hugged Ranger protectively. “If you lay one finger on my dog —”
“Why would you say something dumb like that?” Jeff asked, shocked.
“Why? Because you said yourself that if you ever got the chance, you’d see what you could do to get rid of him. Well, I’m not going to give you that chance!”
“I never said anything like that!”
“Did too! You even put it in writing!” Kevin jumped up, tore open his desk drawer, and shoved a piece of paper in Jeff’s hands. “Just try to deny it now!”
Jeff unfolded the paper and read:
There may be a lot of nice dogs in this world, but some are just plain mean. Kevin’s dog Ranger is one of those. I don’t know why Kevin spends so much time with him since he’s such a dumb dog. In fact, he’d be better off if he had Ranger put away so that he didn’t waste any more time on that rotten mutt.
Though there was something slightly familiar about it, Jeff knew he’d never written that paragraph. He’d never written — or said — anything so awful.
Yet the handwriting looked just like his! Before he had a chance to examine it closely, however, Kevin had snatched it away from him.
“You’re pretty quiet all of a sudden,” Kevin said accusingly.
“Kevin, I didn’t —”
“I know what your handwriting looks like.”
“But I never wrote that!” Jeff shouted. “Where did it come from? Where did you find it?”
“You know I found it in my duffel bag last night. I bet you put it there when you pretended to fix my zipper!”
Jeff shook his head. “But Kevin, why would I want to write something like that?”
“Who knows?” Kevin said, avoiding his eyes. “All I know is what I know. And I know that you don’t like dogs and that that’s your handwriting on that piece of paper. So if you didn’t write it, tell me who did.” He walked to his door and opened it. “If you can’t tell me that, then we have nothing to say to each other.”
16
The next day, Jeff had only one thing on his mind: to find out who had played such a dirty trick on him and his best buddy. But no matter how much he puzzled over it, he couldn’t figure out who would do such a rotten
thing. Or why.
He and Kevin played no better together than they had at Tuesday’s practice. Jeff had never realized before what a difference good communication between teammates made. Now he felt the effects of bad communication every minute he was on the ice.
It was the same thing on Thursday. Kevin avoided him at school and didn’t talk to him at all at practice. The other Blades were starting to notice. Jeff saw Sam Metcalf talking to Kevin. The two glanced over at him and Kevin shook his head. Though he couldn’t hear what they were saying, Jeff was sure they were talking about him.
By the time Friday afternoon rolled around, Jeff was sure he wasn’t going to be seeing his name on the starting lineup roster.
But he was wrong. When the list went up, he saw that Coach Wallace had stayed with the same six players. He could only hope that Kevin would put aside his anger by game time Saturday.
If only I could figure out who the saboteur is! Kevin thought desperately. It seemed hopeless.
Jeff and Beth Ledbetter had continued to meet off and on throughout the week. On Friday afternoon, Beth said Jeff seemed to be getting the hang of it, but that he should still consider coming by for his Saturday-morning session. Jeff agreed. Now that he knew he was still in the starting lineup, he didn’t dare risk letting his grades slip!
“By the way,” Beth asked. “What did Ms. Collins think of your composition?”
“She hasn’t been around to read it yet,” Jeff said.
“Well, I hope it’s in a safe place. It’d stink if all your hard work wound up missing or damaged!”
Saturday morning, Jeff awoke to see snow falling outside his window. He could smell scrambled eggs and English muffins cooking in the kitchen. With a contented sigh, he rolled out of bed to start his day.
Half an hour later, his mother dropped him off at the Ledbetters’ house. He and Beth worked together for an hour and a half. Then it was time to get ready for his game. He had left his duffel bag in the car, so when his mother picked him up, they were set to head straight for the rink.
Jeff hopped out of the car, promising to make a goal for his mom. In the locker room, he dressed quickly, slipped on his skate guards, and hurried out to the rink.
As usual, a feeling of anticipation hit him the minute his skates touched the ice. The thrill of competition ahead always gave him a rush. He loved it all — the feel of the ice beneath him, the bright lights, the cold air on his face as he skated on the shimmering surface. He had to control his impulse to pour on the speed. He knew it would be better to save his strength for the game ahead.
And then he heard a familiar voice near the water jug.
“Are there any cups?” Kevin asked.
Within seconds, Jeff’s happy mood was replaced by uneasiness. How will Kevin and I do on the ice together today? he wondered. We have to play better than we did this week.
But even as he thought it, he had a bad feeling that things weren’t going to go well.
Minutes later, the rink was filled with skaters from both teams warming up. The Fremont Penguins were in solid blue with white numbers. They made a nice contrast to the Winston Blades’ yellow uniforms.
Finally, the whistle blew and the two teams separated to their respective benches.
“Okay, let me have your attention,” said Coach Wallace. “I want to see some heads-up hockey out there. Quick passes, sharp and accurate. Keep your eye on your positions. Talk to one another and set up the plays we’ve been working on all week. We’re only a good team when we play like a team.”
Jeff caught Kevin’s eye for a brief second. Then Kevin looked away.
I hear you, Coach, Jeff thought. I hope Kevin does, too.
Coach Wallace interrupted his thoughts by yelling that it was time to take to the ice. Jeff shook his head, determined to stop puzzling over his problem until after the game. Instead, he skated onto the ice with the other Blades and prepared himself for the face-off.
The whistle blew. The puck dropped and the two centers scrambled to get their sticks around it.
The puck skittered on its edge past Jeff, rolled onto its side, and slid across the ice toward a player in blue and white. The Penguins took charge, dribbled it past the red middle line, and headed toward the Blades’ goal.
The action skipped from one side of the net to the other. But the puck never went in. Kevin finally managed to grab it after two good saves by Michael Gillis.
“Kevin! Kevin!” Jeff shouted. He was near the blue line, ready for a pass.
Kevin ignored him. Instead, he passed the puck to Chad, who dribbled it across the blue line. Bucky caught a pass from Chad and brought it across the midline into goal-scoring territory.
Jeff tried to get himself into a good scoring position. He waited for a pass, hoping that Bucky would put into action a play he, Jeff, and Kevin had had good luck with in the past. Before the note, that was.
Darn that note! Jeff thought angrily. It really messed things up!
As he thought about it, he felt something hit his skate.
The puck! He had let his mind wander only for a moment, but that had been long enough for him to miss out on making the play work. He tried to control the disk, but it ricocheted off his blade and slid back to the blue line.
Luckily for the Blades, Kevin was there. He trapped it with his stick, dribbled it into position, and slammed it toward the center. Bucky was right there. He caught the puck, spun around, and hit it with a forehand shot that went streaking at the net — and in!
Goal!
The Blades cheered and waved their sticks in the air as they congratulated Bucky and Kevin. The Penguins called for a time-out.
Clustered around their own bench, the Blades gave Coach Wallace their full attention.
“That goal was deserved,” he said, “but it’s time to start setting up some plays out there. Keep moving that puck and then take your best shot.” The referee blew the whistle. “One second, Jeff. You, too, Shep. Hayes, I want you to go in for Jeff. Jordan, you go in for Shep. Boys, grab some pine here.”
Jeff’s heart sank. He’d been in the game just five minutes. He took a seat behind Sam Metcalf without a word. Shep plunked down next to Sam.
Sam nudged Shep. “Hey, at least you’re wearing a uniform,” he said quietly. “I’d do just about anything to get on the squad. I’m likely to be sitting here all season in plain clothes unless…”
Jeff’s ears perked up. He waited for Sam to finish his sentence. When Sam didn’t, Jeff silently finished it for him.
Unless someone on the team has to give up his uniform.
17
Jeff tried to concentrate on the game. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Sam. If Sam thought breaking up a good combination on the ice — a combination like Jeff and Kevin had been before the note turned up —would help his chances of getting on the team, would he try to do it?
Sitting behind Sam and listening to him cheer on the Blades, Jeff just couldn’t believe he was capable of such a thing. He couldn’t believe it, but couldn’t deny that such a motive could have led to the note.
With a sigh, he turned his attention fully on the game.
The Penguins had taken control of the puck after the face-off. This time they weren’t about to give up easily. The game got a lot more physical. First a two-minute penalty for high-sticking was called on the Penguins. Then Bucky was caught elbowing an opponent. Since the penalties left both teams short a man, neither converted them into a power-play advantage.
After several more minutes of back-and-forth shots on goal with no scoring, the first period ended. Coach Wallace had Jeff go back in for Hayes, with a caution to keep his eyes open and let his teammates know his position at all times.
Jeff was rested from his time on the bench and ready to play hard. The face-off went to the Blades. Jeff worked to get free for a pass. His first thought was to set up one of the plays with Kevin that worked so well. But before he could make another move, someone crashed into him from the side.
<
br /> A burly Penguin defenseman sent him reeling toward the boards. Frantically, Jeff struggled to regain his balance. But at the last minute, his skates flew out from under him and he sprawled onto the ice.
As the referee’s whistle blew, Jeff felt a spray of ice in his face. A player had skidded to a stop just shy of his prone body.
“Here!” a gruff voice said. It was Kevin, holding out a hand. “Come on! We’ve got just two minutes to put together a power play!”
Jeff grabbed the hand and scrambled to his feet. “Thanks,” he said. But Kevin had skated off already.
For the next two minutes, the Blades tried to make the power play work. As the penalty time ticked down, it seemed they wouldn’t be successful. Even though the Penguins were down a man, they had everyone covered.
Then Kevin got control. With a quick glance up, he sent the puck skimming toward Jeff. Jeff stopped it. Seeing that he was clear, he skated furiously in the direction of the Penguins’ goal.
Closer. Closer. He shuffled the puck back and forth with the tip of his stick. Chad raced parallel with him down the ice. At the last possible second, Jeff flicked the disk across to the left wing. Chad simply let it ricochet off his stick toward the goal.
The Penguins goalkeeper lunged for it. But he was too late. The puck hit the back of the net — and the Blades were up 2-0!
Jeff and Chad slapped high fives and cheered. Jeff looked for Kevin to thank him for feeding him the puck. But when he caught his eye, Kevin just jerked his head up in acknowledgment and skated away.
Well, it’s not much, but at least he’s thawing a little, Jeff said to himself.
The Blades set up for the face-off. Jeff and the rest of the players tried their hardest to sweeten the lead. It was no use. The Penguins played by the book, sticking to their men like sand on a wet foot, stealing the puck every chance they could, and passing with finesse. By the end of the second period, they had inched up on the Blades with two goals of their own.
“You can take these guys,” Coach Wallace assured them at a break. “Let’s see some energy out there!”
Penalty Shot Page 5
