“Maybe you better sit in the car,” he said.
“Sure, sure,” said Granddaddy. “Put me in the driving spot so I can see. Just leave the door open. Best seat in the house.
“OK, boys, and Tugs and Aggie,” he said once he was settled. “Show us what you’ve got.”
“I . . . we . . .” Ned started. Why were they all looking at him for direction? He started again. “Well, there’s the Ike. We could show them that.”
“Sure,” said Ralph. “How does that go again?”
Ned got a stick. He went to a patch where the grass had worn off, and drew the play out and explained it again. Then they got into formation and ran, pretending to throw a ball.
“Fine! Fine!” said Granddaddy. Mr. Jackson and Mr. Leek clapped. “Show us another!”
They ran the Lester. They ran each of their plays three times over.
Ned looked over at Granddaddy. He was listing. His eyes were drooping.
“That’s all, fellows,” Ned said. “We’ll get Burton and Clyde next Saturday. They’ll be sorry.”
Mr. Leek and Mr. Jackson helped Granddaddy into the backseat. “Hop on in, Ned. We’ll take you home.”
“See?” said Granddaddy as they waved to Tugs and Aggie, who set out on foot. “What has old Burton Ward got that you don’t have?”
Ned slumped in his seat. “Lester’s football,” he said.
Ned had planned on giving Burton the business after school. They all had license to call him chicken now that he’d failed to show for their game. But Burton wasn’t on the back lot after school. Clyde and his fellows were milling around without a football.
Ned and the others ran to their side of the field. They practiced a couple of plays, but when Burton still hadn’t arrived and his team still wasn’t playing, they walked over.
“Bawk, bawk, bawk,” Paul started chanting softly.
“Bawk, bawk, bawk.” Mel and Franklin joined in, then Ralph and Ned and the rest, until they were one big clutch of chickens. They tucked their hands into their armpits and flapped their elbows.
“Looks like we’re going to win the challenge,” said Ralph. “These chickens were no-shows.”
“Knock it off,” said Clyde. “There is no challenge.”
“Sure there is,” said Ned. “Don’t think you’re getting off that easy.”
“Lester’s football is gone. Burton didn’t even get to go to the game.”
“What do you mean, Lester’s ball is gone? Burton didn’t go to the game? What happened?”
“You ought to know, Ned,” said Clyde. “Come on, boys, let’s go.”
“How would I know?” said Ned. Then it hit him. Ned had taken Lester’s football once, but that was before. He was going to win it fair and square this time. But if the ball was missing, would anyone believe him?
“I guess we have the whole field, then,” said Franklin. “Uh, Ned, if you do have the ball, you could bring it out now. Is it over at Mr. Lewis’s?”
“Good work, Ned!” Paul said. “Is it ours now? Why didn’t you bring it? How did you get it?”
“I didn’t take it, Paul! I don’t have Lester’s football. Wouldn’t I have brought it Saturday if I did? He said Burton didn’t go to the game. Something must have happened. Come on, Ralph. G.O. will know. Let’s go find him.”
The most likely place to find G.O. after school was at the pool hall. The boys ran all the way there, but hesitated outside the door.
“I can’t go in,” said Ned. “Mr. Carl will remember me.” They stood against the side of the building. “Besides, you said you’ve been in before. All you have to do is run in and holler for G.O. and run out.”
“But I . . . right,” said Ralph. “Sure. If you’re chicken.”
Ned peered around the corner as Ralph walked to the door, hesitated, then pushed it open and disappeared. He watched for a few minutes, then leaned his head back against the bricks. If he didn’t have Lester’s football, and Burton didn’t have it, where could it be? It seemed as though Ralph had been gone for hours.
Finally, he came back with G.O.
“I just talked to Luther in there,” G.O. said. “He says Burton was at Liberty Park Saturday morning, feeling pretty full of himself for being Lester’s brother, trying to talk Luther and William into gambling on the Hawkeye game.
“Mr. Ward came looking for Burton and found him in the park with the money out and gave him a whap right there in the park. Told him he could not go to the game, he’d have to wait at his aunt’s. Luther says Burton was bawling like a baby. Said he had to see Lester. They couldn’t keep him from Lester. But nothing doing. And now he can’t find that ball. Burton says he had it with him at the park and forgot it there, but Luther says he didn’t have it by the time he saw them. Burton’s dad is making him work at the store every day now, says it will teach him to be responsible.”
Ralph whistled. “He’s not just a chicken. He’s a baby chicken.”
“Bawk,” said Ned weakly.
The next morning Ned slipped into his seat just as Mrs. Kelley started morning announcements.
“On a serious note,” she said, “the seventh grade had a visit from Mr. Ward this morning. It seems that Lester’s football has gone missing. This is a valuable piece of family property and should be returned immediately. If someone is found to have the ball without turning it in, Mr. Ward may press charges.”
Ned looked up. Hadn’t Burton just lost it? And what happened to responsibility? Press charges? He felt as though the word THIEF were tattooed across his forehead, like the man at the midway last summer at the fair who had FALSE tattooed across his.
“Now,” continued Mrs. Kelley, “Mr. Ward isn’t accusing anyone. But since football seems to be awfully popular with the boys at school, he wants to know if anyone has information, so word is being passed down the grades.”
“Ned did take the ball that one time. . . .” offered Johnny. “And I heard he stole Miss Thompson’s purse.”
“No one is being accused,” said Mrs. Kelley. “I’m just repeating what Mr. Ward asked me to announce. Now, we have a busy day. That’s enough about football. If you know anything about it, just talk to Burton or Mr. Ward or myself.”
Class started but Ned couldn’t concentrate. He couldn’t even mouth the words to the Pledge of Allegiance correctly. He kept mixing it up with the Lord’s Prayer in his mind. “Deliver us from evil,” he said, instead of “One nation, indivisible.”
The spit in his mouth felt like glue, but he didn’t want to risk walking to the fountain and having to pass Johnny or any of the other fellows who suspected him. The Rowdies must have taken it. That was the only explanation. And in that case he was doomed. Luther Tingvold would have his liver if he pointed suspicion in his direction. No, Burton would tell Mr. Ward about the Ben Franklin incident, and Mr. Ward would come looking for him. He would be thrown in jail.
Finally, when he could stand it no more, Ned took the bathroom pass and slipped out the door, down the steps, across the lawn, across the street, and up the four blocks to his own street. Granddaddy Ike would know what to do.
He stopped at the corner and stood behind an elm. Mr. Jackson was sitting on Granddaddy’s porch. Ned stayed behind the tree and watched. Granddaddy must have gone inside for his pipe. But Mr. Jackson just sat there like it was his own porch, and Granddaddy didn’t appear.
Ned turned to go back to school. He’d have to come back at lunchtime.
“Ned!”
Ned turned. Mr. Jackson had seen him and was beckoning him over.
Shoot. He’d have to go over there, or Mr. Jackson would keep on hollering. All he needed now was for his mother to look out the kitchen window and see him.
Ned shimmied over to the side of Granddaddy’s house and plastered himself against the wall where he would not be visible to his mother.
Mr. Jackson came over to the edge of the porch and peered around at him.
“Don’t let my mom see me,” Ned pleaded.
&nbs
p; “Milo!” It was Granddaddy Ike through the window. “Is there a situation out there?”
“Stay calm,” called Mr. Jackson. “I got Ned here. I’ll bring him inside.”
“I can’t,” said Ned. “I’m supposed to be at school.”
“Well, we were waiting for you, anyhow. We have a surprise. Your mother’s walked downtown. I saw her leave. The coast is clear.”
Granddaddy was lying in bed even though it was the middle of the day. He had his glasses off. His arms looked thin on top of the quilt. Ned felt shy and stood back by the door.
“Come on in here,” said Mr. Jackson. “Over by Ike. We’ve got something for you.”
“Looky here, Ned,” said Granddaddy. “Look what we have for you! Give it to him, Milo.”
Mr. Jackson reached behind Granddaddy’s chair and pulled out a football.
“A football?” Ned gasped. The football. He reached out for it, but Mr. Jackson continued to hold it.
“Where did you —” Ned said.
Granddaddy jumped in. “Mr. Jackson was walking through Liberty Park early this morning.”
“Before the milkman!” said Mr. Jackson.
“He was on his way to —”
“Am I going to tell the story or are you?” said Mr. Jackson.
“He’s my grandson.”
“And I’m the one who found —”
“Found?” said Ned.
“Right there in Liberty Park. Next to an empty pack of Camels. Litter. I find that now and again, but a football. I says to myself, I says, ‘Who has been jabbering on about getting a football for a certain boy?’ Who could it be?”
“Me, of course,” said Granddaddy Ike, giving Mr. Jackson a weak slap on the back. “Me. I know you’ve been wanting a football something awful, Ned. And, well”— he patted his hands on top of the quilt —“looks like I came through for you.”
“With some help from me,” said Mr. Jackson. He handed the ball to Ned at last. Ned stared at it.
“He doesn’t look as excited as you said he would,” said Mr. Jackson.
“Buttons are not great showers of emotion,” said Granddaddy.
Ned sank into Granddaddy’s chair. It was all wrong.
“He’s just overwhelmed,” said Mr. Jackson. “Can’t say I blame him. Most boys would give their eyeteeth for a prize like that. ’Course it’s not new, but . . .”
Ned studied the ball, smoothed his hand all over it, fit his fingers to the laces. It was Lester’s all right, but could anyone else tell the difference? Lester had taken the ball out of Burton’s hands and handed it to him. He remembered Burton wiping his sleeve across his face when Lester left and what Luther had said about the day at Liberty Park. Burton would know.
“I can’t keep it,” said Ned.
“Now, Ned,” said Granddaddy. “I thought you —”
“It belongs to Lester — I mean, Burton — Ward. Mrs. Kelley announced it this morning. That it’s missing. Everyone thinks I stole it. And I did. But I didn’t mean to. And then —”
“Hold up,” said Granddaddy. “You’d better begin at the beginning.” He patted the bed. “Come sit up here. Give Mr. Jackson the chair.”
Ned climbed up and perched himself on the edge of Granddaddy’s bed. He told them the whole story, from Lester to Mr. Zip to the Rowdies, and Burton crying for Lester.
“So you see, we have to take it back.”
“Well, now, that is a shame,” said Granddaddy. “I thought I’d really done it this time. A football for Ned. Now, that was something.”
They sat in silence for a long spell. Ned held the ball, then passed it to Granddaddy. He held it a bit, then passed it to Mr. Jackson, who passed it back to Ned.
“I’ve got errands to run downtown,” Mr. Jackson said. “I’ll take it down there this afternoon. Don’t suppose . . . no. Nothing to be done about it.”
“It was fun while it lasted,” said Granddaddy Ike. “Me and Milo had quite a time thinking about giving it to you. There was that, anyhow. You’d better get on back to school, now, before your mother gets home.”
Ned held the ball a moment longer, then set it next to Granddaddy. “Thanks, Granddaddy,” he said. “Mr. Jackson, you’ll make sure Mr. Ward doesn’t think I stole it, won’t you?”
“I found it in the park is all,” Mr. Jackson said with a wink. “I’ll stick to the basics.”
Ned didn’t see Granddaddy until supper that night. He had avoided practice altogether and had run home to make sure Mr. Jackson had returned the ball, but Granddaddy was resting and his mother told him not to disturb him.
Gladdy and Mother went to wake Granddaddy for supper, and Ned sat glumly at the table. Mr. Jackson was a talker. What if he had told Mr. Ward the whole story about the football? Ned was doomed.
Granddaddy was quieter than usual, too. Everyone else assumed it was Granddaddy’s heart, but Ned knew what the matter was. The ruse hadn’t worked. Mr. Ward or Officer Singleton would be here after supper. He would be arrested and sent to the pokey. He would never finish the sixth grade. So he’d never get to play college ball even if he could catch, because he’d never graduate high school. The rest of his Saturdays would be filled with chores.
Finally, just before plates were cleared, Granddaddy spoke up.
“I’d like to say something,” he said.
“Sure, Granddaddy,” said Mother. “Don’t strain yourself. What is it?”
“I’ve got something to say and I’m not going to take any argument. Got that, Mina?”
“Well, I . . .”
“Good. I’m an old man and you’re going to give me my wish. I got here two tickets to Saturday’s Hawkeye game opening Iowa Stadium, and I aim to take Ned with me.”
Ned stared.
“Mr. Ward gave tickets to me and Mr. Jackson today. Out of the goodness of his heart for a couple of creakers, I suppose, but tickets all the same. Mr. Jackson already has a ticket, so he says to me, he says, ‘Take your Ned.’ ‘Fine idea,’ I says. ‘Fine idea.’”
“But . . .” Mother started.
“No buts, Mina. I’m going to the game, and you wouldn’t want me there without a family member, would you?”
“Well, I . . . no . . . I . . .”
“Good. It’s settled, then. I’ll keep the boy away from wild driving and what have you. Mr. Jackon is going to pick us up first thing in the morning. He will drive us to Iowa City and drive us home. Milo Jackson, Mina. Slowest driver in Johnson County. No worries about wild driving.”
“Nothing doing,” Mother said. “It’s about to rain. You aren’t well, Granddaddy.”
“A little rain never hurt anyone,” said Granddaddy Ike. But he didn’t make a move to get out of bed.
Mr. Jackson’s car was already idling outside. Ned pulled back Granddaddy’s covers.
“A little rain never hurt anyone,” repeated Ned. “Come on, Granddaddy. I’ve got your gold suspenders. You can sleep in the car on the way over.” He put his arms behind Granddaddy’s back and lifted him to sitting.
“Look lively.” Granddaddy said, and laughed weakly. But then he lay down again. “Your mother’s right, Ned. I hate to admit it, but I’ve got to stay right here. You go on ahead.”
“No!” said Ned. “I’ll stay here with you.”
“Nonsense,” said Granddaddy. “Lester’s expecting you, remember? You’ve got to go and take it all in and come back and tell it back to me.”
“But what will you do all day?”
“I’ll get Gladdy and Tugs to read. I’m every bit as happy to get Dorothy back to Kansas as to go out in foul weather. Get on, now. Don’t keep Mr. Jackson waiting any longer.”
Ned waited for his mother to protest, but she just handed him his cap. “You heard Granddaddy. Don’t keep Mr. Jackson waiting,” she said. “And keep your cap on.”
And then he was in the front seat of Mr. Jackson’s car.
Ned watched as they passed the school and Tractor Field and sputtered out of town. The road cut thr
ough fields of broken-over, harvested cornstalks. The sky was heavy and Mr. Jackson drove slowly. They joined a few cars on the road, but Ned could see a long line of cars ahead.
“We’re a little late, but we’ll get there when we get there,” Mr. Jackson muttered to himself. Then to Ned he said, “We don’t need to catch that line up. We’ll just lag back here. I didn’t realize there would be that many people driving this way.”
Ned leaned forward in his seat as if it would get him to Iowa City faster. Granddaddy had been right. Just follow the crowds. All the way from Goodhue, in fact. Follow the yellow brick road.
It started to rain then and Mr. Jackson fumbled for the wipers. Ned shivered and drew himself inside his jacket.
They slowed to pass a car pulled over in the ditch. There was a boy in the backseat. For that moment in passing, Ned and the boy looked at each other. He wasn’t a Goodhue boy, and Ned wondered if he was on his way to Iowa City, too. He wondered at the fact that this boy had eaten breakfast in a house Ned had never seen. A mother like his own had pressed a cap on this boy’s head. And now here they were on the same road going to see the same game. Afterward they would return to their own homes to their own cities — this boy could be from as far away as Manchester or Des Moines! — and never see each other again.
Ned turned to Mr. Jackson, but he was cursing under his breath and fiddling with the wipers.
“Gol-darned rain. Where were you in August?” he railed.
Ned wanted to tell Granddaddy about the boy and the cap and Iowa City. He put his hand on the empty middle seat, where Granddaddy should be sitting. There were so many cars. And each one filled with people Ned did not know. How could there be this many people in all of Iowa?
As they drew into town they slowed. People were parking their cars in yards and empty lots and running with newspapers over their heads and umbrellas parting the crowds. Mr. Jackson stopped the car at an intersection and said, “Well, Ned. Which way?”
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