Cody and the Heart of a Champion

by Tricia Springstubb

  His leaf project, which the Spindle gave a check-plus-plus (Cody had found the three different kinds of sassafras leaves)

  A jar of meat tenderizer, from when Cody got stung by yellow jackets

  A sign saying REWARD, NO QUESTIONS ASKED, from when Wyatt’s bike got stolen.

  Each exhibit made her remember something they did together. Something fun. Or exciting. A time they stuck up for each other, or taught each other something new. It was a stroll down Memory Lane, and it made Cody overflow with happiness.

  But little by little, the happiness leaked out of her. Because Spencer was moving away. Who wanted to remember how things used to be? A Museum of Sadness, that’s what he was making. Plus, who knew he’d saved all this stuff? He never told her.

  That Spencer! He kept too many secrets. She couldn’t trust him anymore.

  Cody grabbed a card. She found a red crayon. Red, the color of furious.

  She taped the card to the wall. Wait till he saw that! He’d be sorry he was leaving her in the dust.

  In this life, some things never change:

  C-A-T (always spells cat)

  Tattoos (always cool)

  A tiny monkey (your parents will always say you cannot get one for a pet)

  But other things do.

  For example, feelings. They can change without warning.

  When Cody woke up the next day, she remembered the red-crayon card. Wrong. The word lit up inside her brain.

  Spencer was sneaky. That was a fact.

  But writing that part about the baby was wrong.

  That part was plain mean.

  She had to tell him sorry. This would be tricky, since they weren’t speaking to each other.

  But she had to do it.

  Cody saved her toast crusts and carried them outside. When you get the habit of feeding something, it is hard to stop.

  “I hope you like strawberry jam,” she called to the bird perched up in the tree.

  The morning air was golden and sweet. If you could eat it, it would taste like butterscotch. Mother Nature was in an excellent mood. In Cody’s opinion, this was rude. It was a cloudy, thunderstorm type of day, if you asked her.

  She marched to the corner.

  No Spencer. A piece of paper lay on the sidewalk. It said:

  Cody got angry all over again.

  “Fine!” she yelled. “Be like that! See if I ever tell you sorry, you Sneaky Pete, you!”

  “Are you all right, sweetheart?” An old woman walking her dog looked at her with eyes of worry.

  Cody’s face turned flaming hot. She gave the dog a pat, then ran all the way to school.

  Where the next bad thing happened. She had forgotten her soccer team barrette.

  In the classroom, she quick-quick got red and black construction paper. She cut long strips and taped them to her shirt. Just in time. Here came the B.B. Cody held her breath.

  But Madison didn’t even look at her. She went right to her desk and plonked her head down.

  Probably she was saving up her strength for tomorrow.

  That night, Cody did everything Coach Y! had told them. She set out her soccer uniform. She ate a healthy dinner. She went to bed early, to get a good night’s rest.

  But she couldn’t sleep a wink. Toss, turn. Toss, turn.

  “Little Seed? Everything okay?” Dad sat on the edge of her bed. He smoothed her hair with his big, strong hand that could steer a big rig. “Are you worried about the tournament?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Just remember, the most important thing isn’t —”

  “But I’m more worried about Spencer!” Cody sat up. “We had a fight. And we didn’t make up. What if he moves away and never speaks to me again as long as he lives?”

  Another good thing about Dad was he didn’t always say what you expected. Now he made eyes of let-me-think. He rubbed his chin. He gazed out the window. At last, he pointed at the tree.

  “Remember how cold it was this winter? Remember how our tree got bent down with snow and ice?”

  “Uh-huh.” Cody remembered. “Sometimes it tapped on my window, and I felt sorry for it.”

  “But trees are smart. Even on the coldest days, they know that winter won’t last forever. They know spring will come again.”

  “And now it did!” Cody cried.

  “That’s right. And know what? Friends go through ice storms and blizzards, too. They have rough and tough times. But they need to wait it out. Because for true friends, just like trees, guess what? Spring always comes again.”

  Dad tucked her in. He gave her and Gremlin good-night kisses. When Cody drifted off to sleep, she dreamed she was a tree. Birds nested in her leafy branches. They laid speckled eggs, and naked little babies popped out. The babies sang songs of joy.

  Cody stared out the car window. This was it. They were on their way to the tournament. Dad tried to lead a sing-along, but Cody’s mouth was too dry. It was the Sahara in there.

  “You’re not nervous, are you?” Mom asked.

  “Gaa,” Cody croaked. If only she really was a tree. Being a tree was much less complicated than being a human.

  “Just do your best. That’s all that counts. It’s not whether you win or lose that —”

  “I know that, Mom!”

  Cody sucked on her water bottle. What if she ran the wrong way, or passed to the wrong team, or touched the ball with her hand, or did offsides, which who knew what that was anyway? Everyone would see her mess up.

  A voice inside her said, No they won’t. Because all eyes will be on Madison.

  Cody started to relax. Coach Y! was fierce about teamwork, but everyone knew it was really up to Madison. She was the star. She could win the game single-handed. Cody began to feel better.

  Till they got to the field. Pearl was pale as the undead.

  “Madison has strep. She can’t play!”

  “Oh, no!”

  Everybody was super-epic-wicked worried. Except Coach Y! She called a huddle.

  “We are a team,” she said. “A mighty, mighty team. We’re going to go out there and play our game!”

  “But, Coach,” Pearl said, “who’s going to take Madison’s place?”

  “All of you. Let me hear it!”

  “We, not me.”

  They sounded like frogs at the bottom of a deep well. Coach Y! made them say it like they believed it.

  “WE, NOT ME!”

  “Not me, all right.” Pearl looked at Cody with eyes of doom. “I’m awful.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Madison said —”

  “You’re not as good as Madison,” Cody interrupted. “Nobody is. But just because you’re not the best doesn’t mean you’re bad.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Fine. You’re bad. Actually, you’re stinky rotten no-good terrible!”

  Pearl’s eyes widened. “No, I’m not!”

  “See? I told you.”

  “Are we ready, team?” cried their coach.

  The other team was gold-and-white. This was good. It was easy to tell which team was which. Also, many of them wore looks of I’m-not-exactly-sure-about-this. Maybe they’d never played a tournament before, either.

  A tiny seed of hope began to grow inside Cody.

  Whee! The ref blew her whistle and the game began.

  Ka-pow. Gold-and-white scored.

  Ka-pow the Sequel. They scored again.

  The seed of hope shriveled up. Without Madison, their team was a disaster. Two girls looked ready to cry. A boy got a stomachache and had to sit down.

  “Come on!” yelled somebody’s father. “Get it together!”

  This was not what you’d call helpful.

  Just then, Cody saw Wyatt and Payton ride up on their bikes. Wyatt jumped off and pointed at his chest. What do you know! Instead of a collar shirt, he wore his favorite I ♥ BLOOD AND GUTS T-shirt. Payton didn’t look as if she minded. She was smiling her shiny lip-gloss smile. Both of them waved.

 
Cody waved back.

  Just as a ball bonked her in the head.

  Where did that come from?

  “Go, number six!” yelled Mom.

  Ball at her feet. Pearl down the field. No one nearby.

  “Pearl!” Cody yelled. “Heads up!”

  She focused. She took aim. She put her left foot to that ball and . . .

  Right on target! Pearl stared at the ball. For a long moment, she did the Statue.

  “Go!” hollered Cody. “Go, Pearl!”

  Pearl lurched to life. She hooked the ball and began to dribble. Dribble-dribble. She wasn’t very good, but good enough. She moved the ball down the field. A gold-and-white closed in on her, but Pearl put her arms out, just like Coach Y! had taught them. Dribble-dribble . . .

  “Shoot!” Cody raced up beside her. “Shoot, Pearl!”

  Pearl made a face of who-me?

  “Yes, you!” said Cody. “You can do it!”

  Pearl did.

  “Goooooal!”

  The crowd went wild.

  “That’s more like it!” yelled the loudmouth father.

  After that, something supernatural happened. It was like their team woke up and discovered they had hidden powers. The defenders started defending. The strikers started striking. The boy with the stomachache got better and stole the ball from a gold-and-white. He raced down the field. He zigged. He zagged.

  “Goooooal!”

  The score was tied. The team ran around doing fist bumps. Nobody could believe it. Yes, they could. They were mighty! They were playing their game!

  So was the gold-and-white. They didn’t score another goal. But they didn’t let Cody’s team score one, either. Too soon, the game was over. It was 2–2. A tie.

  Uh-oh.

  Coach Y! called a huddle.

  “We’re going into overtime,” she told the team.

  “Wait,” said Cody. “Is that the same as sudden death?”

  Coach Y! nodded.

  “We’ll play an extra ten minutes,” their coach explained. “First team to score during that time wins. Are we ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “Team! I said, are we ready?”

  “YES!”

  Back on the field, the gold-and-white looked ready, too. The air flashed and fizzed like Fourth of July sparklers. All the parents were cheering. Payton was jumping up and down. The twins waved their bananas.

  Out of the blue, in the middle of everything, Cody thought of Spencer. If only he was here, too, cheering in his careful, Spencer-like way. For a second, she thought she heard him.

  Go, Cody! he called. Do your best! Just don’t get bonked in the head with the ball!

  Whee! The ref blew her whistle. The game

  was on.

  Back and forth went the ball, red-and-black, gold-and-white, red-and-black, gold-and-white. Both teams played with all their might.

  In this life, time can stand still. Clocks do not move. Ten minutes last forever. Cody’s teammates began to get tired. The stomachache boy tried to kick the ball and missed. Pearl tripped and landed on her bungie. When she got up, she wore a look of where-am-I? Somebody got a penalty, for something.

  “Get your heads in the game!” the extremely unhelpful father yelled.

  Red-and-black did their best, but everyone had tired legs. It wasn’t sudden death. It was very slow dying.

  Cody was the only one with energy left. The ball went out of bounds, and the gold-and-white did a throw-in. It landed near Cody, but a gold-and-white hooked it and started down the field.

  “Stay with her, Cody,” called Coach Y!

  Thump-thump (Cody’s heart). Clomp-clomp (her orange cleats). Up the field she raced, chasing the girl with the ball. She narrowed her eyes. She set her jaw. All around her, the rest of the world turned into a blur. She had to get that ball. Had to get it, had to get it, had to . . .

  Whoa.

  The world went even blurrier. Then it turned completely green.

  Grass. Cody and the grass were face-to-face.

  “Goooooal!”

  She raised her head. All around her, alien cleats jumped for joy. She put her head back down.

  Dead. Her team was suddenly dead.

  “Cody?” Pearl crouched beside her. “Are you okay?”

  “We lost.”

  “But are you okay?”

  Coach Y! ran over. “Cody! Sit up, can you?”

  Right behind her was Dad. And Mom. And Wyatt and Payton. Everyone gazed down at her with eyes of worry and love. To tell the truth, this felt kind of nice. Cody lay there an extra second, then sat up.

  “I’m okay. But what happened?”

  “You were going like the wind,” said Payton.

  “Their forward came right at you, but you didn’t stop,” said Dad.

  “Till your feet got tangled up,” said Mom.

  “You did the world’s most awesome face-plant,” said Wyatt. “But you almost had her!”

  “You gave it everything you had,” said Coach Y! “And then you gave it some more.”

  “The heart of a champion,” said Pearl. “That’s what you have.”

  Afterward, their team played something called a consolation game. The other team had lost, too. Nobody but nobody was going on to the next

  level.

  You might think this would be depressing.

  Instead, it turned out to be fun.

  “Pressure’s off,” said Coach Y! “Let’s just enjoy ourselves.”

  Pearl and Cody sat side by side on the bench.

  “Madison would super hate this,” said Pearl.

  “Wicked epic hate it,” said Cody.

  They sucked their water bottles.

  “Good thing she’s not here,” said Pearl.

  They slid their eyes at each other and did twin smiles.

  “But I hope she gets better very soon,” added Pearl.

  “Right. Me too,” said Cody.

  Everyone got a small trophy of a player about to ka-pow a soccer ball. Coach Y! told them they had played beyond her wildest expectations. She told them they were a true team. They did their cheer one more time.

  And then, at last, it was time to go home.

  As they drove past Spencer’s house, Cody saw him sitting on the porch swing. She asked Mom to stop so she could get out.

  When he saw her, Spencer brought the swing to a halt.

  “Did you come to my tournament?” asked Cody.

  “No.”

  “Are you sure? I heard your voice.”

  “Did you get bonked in the head with a ball?” asked Spencer.

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe you were having a hallucination.”

  Cody sat down on the swing. Usually, she liked to swing fast. Spencer liked to go slow. But now they didn’t make it go at all. They hung there in suspended animation.

  “Did you win?” asked Spencer.

  “Nope.”

  “Maybe next time.”

  They were speaking. Cody hoped Spencer didn’t notice.

  MewMew jumped up and nestled between them. Cody rubbed her switch, and she began to purr. The air vibrated with furry happiness.

  Purr-purr. Sniffle-sniffle.

  Cody looked at Spencer. His nose was running.

  “Uh-oh,” she said. “The rhinovirus got you, too.”

  But Spencer shook his head. His nice round head, which for the very first time did not wear a winter hat. Cody looked closer. Tears shone in his eyes.

  “I’m going to miss MewMew so much,” he said.

  Oh!

  “And GG. And this swing. And this porch. And . . .

  everything.”

  Oh! Oh! Spencer was crying. Cody leaned so close, she saw herself reflected in his glasses.

  “We can still make a plan,” she said. “We can figure something out, I know it! You can’t move. You . . .”

  “See? That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

  “What?”

  “I tried to. But every time, the w
ords got too scared to come out.”

  “Scared of what?”

  “You!”

  Cody sat back so fast her head plonked the swing.

  “Me?” She spoke in a voice of quiet. “I’m not scary.”

  “Yes, you are. Sometimes. You get all . . . what’s that word you keep using?” Spencer bared his teeth and narrowed his eyes. He curled his hands into claws.

  “Fierce?”

  “Uh-huh. I knew you’d get upset and say I couldn’t move.” Spencer dug his fist into his cheek. This was not a fun thing to watch. “But I have to go. I’d miss my parents too much. And the new baby needs me. It doesn’t have any downloads, remember?”

  Cody rubbed her plonked head. Her thoughts spun round and round. Spencer hated things to change. Even tiny things. A new baby plus a new house? It might as well be an earthquake. His whole world was smithereened.

  But he was right. He had to move. Cody had been so sad for herself, she’d forgotten to think how he felt.

  Maybe it wasn’t too late to try.

  “Is your new house nice?” she asked.

  “I have to sleep in a room that’s way bigger. With two windows instead of one.”

  “You’ll have lots of space for your LEGOs.”

  “That’s what my parents say.” He did some blinking. “They say I can get a pet.”

  “Ask for a tiny monkey!”

  “I’m going to get tropical fish.”

  “Oh.” Cody tried again. “Maybe I can come visit you. I’ll ask my parents to drive me.”

  “You don’t have to drive. You can just run.”

  “Ha, ha. I’m good at running, but I can’t run for miles and miles.”

  “You can run four blocks. I saw you and Molly and —”

  “Wait. What?” Cody jumped off the swing. “Do you mean to tell me you’re only moving four blocks away?”

  “Only? Everything will be different. The front door is red. I’m used to a plain door. And . . .”

  Cody threw herself onto the swing. Her heart was a spring day, budding and blooming.

  “Everything will be changed,” she said. “But the most important things will stay just the same.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  Yes, it did. But Cody didn’t try to argue. She was too happy. Besides, it was no use. If you enjoyed arguing with a tree, you would enjoy arguing with good old, trusty, best friend for life Spencer.