Kickoff! (11 page)

“HEY HEY—HO HO—THAT NEW FACTORY'S GOT
TO GO!!”

Ronde couldn't tell how many protesters there were at the council meeting, but there had to have been a couple hundred, easy. All of them were chanting slogans at the tops of their lungs, drowning out the council president, who was trying to explain why the factory was a good thing for the neighborhood.

Ronde couldn't believe how many people had shown up—all thanks to his mom and Mrs. Pendergast, and the team they'd put together to spread the word.

He looked over at his mom, who was shouting with the others, but smiling too. He was so proud of her!

Even Tiki was chanting—or pretending to. Ronde couldn't hear a sound coming from his mouth, but that was okay. He and Tiki were kind of shy when it came to things like this. Their mom was happy with them just for showing up.

Lots of people in the crowd had signs they were
holding up over their heads. The signs said things like: Keep Our Children Safe, Pollution-Free Zone, and Say No to Toxic Chemicals!

The clerk banged his little wooden hammer, and shouted, “This meeting will come to order!”

But nobody stopped chanting—not until Mrs. Barber raised both her hands in the air for quiet. Then everybody stopped at once.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this council is now in session,” said the president. “Tonight we will consider final approval for the factory scheduled to be built on Block fourteen fifty, Map sixteen. Before we take a vote on this, is there anyone present who wishes to say something?”

Everyone in the audience shouted “YES!” and raised their hands.

The president of the council looked stunned. “You
all
want to speak?”

“YES!!” came the reply, echoing off the walls.

“I see. May I just ask for a show of hands—how many of you out there intend to speak
against
this project?”

Everyone in the crowd raised their hands.

The president cleared her throat. “Hmmm. And how many in favor?”

All the hands went down at once.

“I see. Well, in the interest of our long agenda, I'm going to limit comments to twenty minutes.”

“NOOOO!!!!” shouted the crowd.

“Please designate someone to speak for you,” said the president.

All eyes in the room went to Mrs. Barber. She put her hand to her throat. “Oh, my,” she said. “I really think Mrs. Pendergast ought to be the one to—”

“No, no, Geraldine,” said Mrs. Pendergast. “It should be you—you're a much better speaker than I am.”

“Well . . . all right,” said Mrs. Barber.

Coming to the front and speaking into the microphone, she said, “All these people came here tonight because they care about their health, about their families' health, and their children's health. This factory will bring jobs to our neighborhood—we all know that. And jobs are very important—but there are things that are even more important.

“This factory will bring more air pollution, more water pollution. It will poison the vegetables and fruits we grow in our yards and gardens. It will mean more kids with health problems. And just remember, members of the council—we all vote, and we will all remember how you vote tonight!”

The crowd stood up and cheered as Mrs. Barber went back to her seat. The council members all looked at one another. Ronde could see that they were worried.

“All right,” said the council president. “It's time for our vote. Mr. Secretary, please call the roll.”

A man sitting at the side of the room called their names one by one. Each member said “Yea” for yes, or “Nay” for no. After he was finished, the secretary added up the votes. “The proposal is defeated, six votes to three,” he announced.

Another cheer went up from the crowd. Everyone started hugging one another and jumping up and down.

Ronde had to cover his ears, and he saw that Tiki was doing the same thing. The boys made their way to their mom's side, and she threw an arm around each of them.

Ronde was so proud of her! He hugged her right there in front of everybody—even though he thought it was embarrassing to hug your mom in public, where your friends might see you.

Mrs. Pendergast came over and hugged Mrs. Barber too. Then she threw her arms open to Ronde.

Yikes! He realized she was expecting a hug from him, too! Bracing himself, Ronde gave Mrs. Pendergast a hug—and then, so did Tiki.

Sure, she's a little different,
Ronde thought. But after all, they had just won a big, fat, huge victory!

Now, if only things would work out as well with the
football team
 . . . 

 •  •  •

It looked like the Hidden Valley Eagles were going to have an even better team this year than the year before. It was only game two, of course. But these were the fearsome Blue Ridge Bears. They had finished second last
year, and had beaten the Eagles along the way—one of the Eagles' two defeats all season.

Yet here were the Eagles, leading 27–7, and it wasn't even halftime. And all of this without their star quarterback from last year, Matt Clayton!

Cody Hansen, in his second start, was proving to be a quality quarterback himself. That was a good thing, Ronde thought. Next year, after Matt went on to high school, the team would still be strong at the most important position on the field.

They were looking good at running back, too. Because of Jesse Fowle's twisted ankle, which was still sore from last week and all taped up, Coach Spangler had taken Jesse out once the Eagles built up a big lead. Instead, he'd put in the second-stringer, an eighth grader named John Berra. And Berra was showing that he knew how to run, too.

Tiki was sitting there next to him.
When would the third string get their chance?
Tiki wondered. Ronde was thinking the same thing.

It was just so frustrating, sitting there watching, when they knew in their hearts they could help the team if only they could get in there!

Oh, well,
Ronde thought.
Coach rules.
And at least the Eagles had that big lead . . .

Except that in the third quarter, everything started to fall apart.

It was just like what they had done to the Mountaineers the week before. Cody handed off to Berra, but John dropped the ball, and one of the Bears defenders picked it up and ran it in for a TD.

Then, on the kickoff return, Jeff Jacobsen lost the ball on a big hit from one of the Bears. The ball was picked up by another Bears player, who ran it in for a touchdown!

In less than one minute of playing time, the Bears had gotten themselves right back into the game. Now the Eagles' lead was down to six points—27–21.

It was still the third quarter. There was still plenty of time left in the game. Ronde sat there, drumming his fingers on the bench. He was worried that the Bears would score again and win the game.

The important thing for the Eagles was to keep possession of the ball and chew up the clock, so the Bears wouldn't have a chance to come back. To do that, they would have to focus on their running game. And that meant handing the ball to John Berra.

On first down, Berra was stopped for a loss. “Man,” Tiki murmured. “He should have cut back!”

“Totally,” Ronde agreed.

On second down, Berra was stopped at the line of scrimmage.

“Aw, man,” Tiki said, grabbing his head with both hands. “Move the pile!” Turning to Ronde, he said, “I wish they'd put me in just
once
—just
one time
!”

“Me too,” Ronde said, thinking of the long pass the Bears had completed for their first touchdown. If he'd been in there, he knew he could have knocked it away—maybe intercepted it, even.

It was third and long now, and Cody Hansen dropped back to pass. The blitz was on, and Cody read it perfectly. He turned quickly, and hit Berra with a perfectly thrown screen pass!

Except that Berra dropped it.

“Oh, man! Catch the ball!” Tiki moaned, trying not to be too loud.

To be fair, the Eagles fans in the bleachers moaned even louder than Tiki. But they didn't have Coach Spangler standing right behind them.

Tiki did.

“What?”
Coach Spangler challenged him. “What is it, Barber? You got something to say? Say it.”

“Uh-uh,” Tiki said.

“Uh-uh, what? You don't have anything to say? Or you don't wanna say it?”

“I don't have anything to say,” said Tiki.

“Baloney!” Coach Spangler roared. “Say what you mean, son! Speak up, for goodness' sake!”

“I . . . I just didn't think John should've cut to the weak side on second down, that's all.”

“Oh, yeah? Maybe
you
would like to try coaching.”

“No, sir.”

“Because that's a coach's decision.” Spangler shook his head in disgust. “You still don't get it, do you?”

“Get what, Coach?” Tiki asked.

Spangler frowned. “I suppose you wanna get in there and take over Berra's job, is that it?”

“No, sir,” said Tiki. “I mean, we've got Jesse Fowle sitting over there.”

“Fowle's got a bad ankle. Okay, Barber, you wanna get in the game, you're in the game. Next set of downs, you're my running back. Let's see what you've got. Make it happen.”

With that, Coach Spangler turned away, walking down the sideline.

Ronde could see that Tiki was blinking back tears. “It's okay, dude,” Ronde told him. “Just show the coach what you've got.”

Tiki's lip trembled. He bit down on it, sniffed, blew out a breath, and said, “Yeah. That's what I'm gonna do, Ronde. I'm gonna take over this game.” They shook hands on it, and Tiki went off to be by himself and gather his thoughts.

When the fourth quarter started, Tiki got his chance. Ronde watched as his twin strapped on his helmet and trotted out onto the field.

Ronde could feel his heart pounding fast, almost as if he were out there himself. “Come on, Tiki!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Come on, Tiki,” he repeated in a whisper as the teams lined up for action.

The first play was a handoff. Tiki took it cleanly, and made a beautiful, flashy move to his right, then another to his left, then to his right again. Three Bears defenders went flying head over heels as Tiki broke across the line of scrimmage and headed downfield.

“Yes!” screamed Ronde. “Go, Tiki, go!”

Tiki ran for a good fifteen yards before two Bears tackled him. Tiki refused to go down, dragging both defenders with him for two more yards. Then a third defender knocked him down—so hard that the ball spurted out of Tiki's hands, straight up into the air!

“No! No! No!” Ronde moaned, wincing as the Bears middle linebacker pounced on the ball, recovering the fumble.

“Barber!” Coach Spangler shouted, motioning for Tiki to come off the field.

Just like that, it was over. Tiki trudged back to the bench, slammed his helmet to the ground, and sat down so heavily that the bleachers shook underneath him.

Ronde felt sick to his stomach. Tiki had messed up in front of everybody! He'd blown his big chance—and all because he'd gone and opened his big mouth!

Ronde knew he'd almost gotten caught himself. If Coach Spangler had been standing there one moment sooner, he would have heard Ronde saying the same kinds of things as Tiki.

“Man, I stink!” Tiki grumbled, his lip trembling again. “I
should just quit the team and never play football again!”

“No, you shouldn't,” Ronde said, trying to cheer him up. “You're good, man—
really
good. You just tried to get too much yardage on the play. If you'd have gone down as soon as they hit you . . .”

“Shut up, Ronde, okay? Just shut up!”

Ronde was shocked. Tiki
never
talked to him like that—not seriously, anyway. He knew his brother would be sorry later. But still, Tiki's words stung.

The whole rest of the game, the Barber brothers said not one word. Not to each other, and not to anybody else.

Meanwhile, the Bears drove all the way to the Eagle five yard line. Luckily, though—especially for Tiki—the Eagle defense held the Bears to a field goal, and went on to win the game, 27–24.

Ronde didn't know what Tiki was thinking as they got up and headed to the locker room with the rest of the team. But he knew it couldn't be good.

As for himself, there was only one thing he knew for sure: It was way better to sit on the bench and never ask to play, than to get in the game like Tiki had, and then mess up!

Whether to raise his hand in class, or to ask Coach Spangler for playing time, Ronde swore to himself that he'd never stick his neck out—or his hand up—again.

Never ever.

“. . . MONTANA DROPS BACK TO PASS . . . AND
he's got Jerry Rice wide open! Touchdown, Forty-niners!”

“He's awesome!” Ronde said, jumping up from the couch and grabbing another fistful of pretzels.

“Who, Rice?”

“No, dummy—Montana!”

“I think Rice is better.”

“Montana's going to the Hall of Fame.”

“Rice isn't?”

“Maybe . . . ”

“You're nuts,” Tiki said, waving his brother away.

It was Sunday afternoon, and the boys were watching the Bears—the
Chicago
Bears—play the San Francisco 49ers on TV. Walter Payton had scored a touchdown in the first quarter on a long run from scrimmage, making Tiki's day.

And now, Ronde's second-favorite quarterback had thrown a game-tying strike.

Ah, Sundays . . . best day of the week,
Tiki thought.
Watching the NFL, it was almost possible to forget what a disaster Saturday had been.