by David Lewman
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 1
On a cool Friday evening in fall, Corey, Ben, and Hannah hurried to the pep rally at Woodlands High School. It was the night before the big football game against the Rams’ crosstown rivals, the Jefferson High Vikings. In this small Nevada town, the game between Woodlands and Jefferson was one of the biggest events of the year.
Hannah pulled her sweater tight around her to keep warm. “Why are we going to this pep rally, anyway?” she asked. “We’re in middle school, not high school.”
“And we don’t care about football,” Ben added. He was missing a really interesting show about black holes on the Science Channel. He wished his parents would get a DVR so he could record all his favorite shows. But every time he mentioned it, they said a DVR was “unnecessary.”
“I care about football!” Corey said. “I play football, remember? We may be in middle school right now, but in a couple of years we’ll be in high school.”
Ben stuck his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Can’t we just wait until then to go to the pep rallies?”
Corey raised both hands in disbelief. “No! By going now, we’ll learn something about what it’s like to go to high school. We’ll be prepared.”
This actually made some sense to Hannah. She’d found that the more you knew about something ahead of time, the less scary it was. In ballet, the more you rehearsed, the calmer you were during the recitals. “Okay,” she said. “That sounds like a pretty good idea.”
“Yeah,” said Ben slowly. He turned to Corey. “But since when do you prepare for anything? Last summer you showed up at the pool without sunblock, money, or your bathing suit. We had to walk all the way back to your house.”
Corey shrugged. “Maybe I’ve changed. Maybe this is the new me. Prepared. Organized. Ready.”
“Freezing,” Hannah added, shivering.
“It’s not that bad,” Corey said. “But if you’re cold, we can always walk faster. That’ll warm us up.”
Corey quickened his pace, and Ben and Hannah had to hurry to keep up with him.
When they reached the high school, a kid named Ethan recognized Corey. “Hey, dude! Here for the bonfire? Go, Rams!”
Ethan high-fived Corey and then disappeared into the crowd. Now Hannah understood why they were at the pep rally. “A bonfire, huh?” she said, smiling. “Suddenly it all makes sense.”
“Right,” Ben agreed. “There are three things Corey loves: bonfires, explosions, and bonfires that end in explosions.” He and Hannah knew Corey pretty well. They’d been in school with him since kindergarten. The three classmates had even started their own club after they began taking a forensic science class with Miss Hodges. Club CSI had already solved three crimes.
Corey grinned. “Hey, the bonfire is a school tradition. And I hear it’s pretty sweet. Although I don’t think there’ll be an explosion. Unfortunately.”
The three friends wandered around the grounds of the high school. Lots of people were talking and laughing—mostly high school students. The Woodlands High School marching band was setting up, getting ready to play. Now and then a saxophone squeaked or a tuba blatted. And you could hear the drummers pretty much all the time. Once they strapped on their marching drums and got out their sticks, they couldn’t resist playing.
“There it is!” Corey said, pointing toward a parking lot. He led Ben and Hannah over to the big pile of wood stacked carefully by members of the town’s fire department. The fire officers were standing by their red truck, waiting to light the bonfire. They were also there to make sure it didn’t get out of hand.
“The firefighters must be excited,” Corey said. “This is the one time all year when they get to light a fire.”
“Actually,” Ben said, “firefighters often light backfires to keep forest fires from spreading—”
But Corey didn’t hear him. He’d already walked up to one of the firefighters. “Excuse me, sir,” he asked. “When are you going to light the bonfire?”
The firefighter looked as though he were a little tired of being asked this question. “At the end of the pep rally,” he said.
Corey looked disappointed. “Oh,” he said. “I thought maybe the bonfire would be lit for the whole rally. To provide light.”
“And warmth,” Hannah added.
“Nope,” the firefighter said.
“How long is the pep rally supposed to last?” Corey asked.
The firefighter shrugged.
They’d have to wait, and Corey wasn’t exactly known for his patience. But to his relief, the pep rally soon got under way. Cheerleaders led the crowd in some rousing cheers. The band played a medley of pop songs. They hit a few wrong notes, but they were loud and enthusiastic. Especially the drummers.
“Where’s the mascot?” Hannah asked. “Doesn’t somebody dress up as a ram?”
She was right. Woodlands High School’s beloved mascot was nowhere to be seen.
“That’s weird,” Ben said. “How can the mascot miss a pep rally?”
“Maybe he’s busy being herded by a Border collie mascot,” Corey joked.
“Or pulling his wool over someone’s eyes,” Ben added.
“Or helping someone fall asleep,” Hannah suggested. They laughed at the idea of a sheep too busy to show up at a rally.
But a high school kid standing nearby, wearing a Rams sweatshirt, wasn’t laughing. “It’s typical,” he said. “So typical.”
“What is?” Corey asked.
“Mitchell not showing up,” he replied.
“Who’s Mitchell?” Hannah wondered.
The kid shook his head, looking disgusted. “Mitchell is the guy they picked to be Rocky the Ram, though I have no idea why. He’s not committed to being the mascot.”
“Being a mascot takes commitment?” Ben asked. “I thought you just put on the costume and then jumped around.”
The fan looked offended. “There’s a lot more to it than that!” he almost shouted. “You should know the history of the mascot. You should have a signature move. You should be good at inspiring the crowd.”
Corey was impressed. “Seems like you’ve given this mascot business a lot of thought. Maybe you should be Rocky the Ram.”
“Thank you,” he said, nodding vigorously. “Exactly. If I, Logan Canfield, was Rocky, there’s no way I would’ve missed the rally for the game against the Vikings. It’s the biggest game of the year! The mascot should know that! And be here!”
Logan stomped away.
“Logan Canfield is kind of intense,” Hannah said.
“Not as intense as that guy,” Corey said, pointing.
Hannah and Ben looked in the direction Corey was pointing. They saw a man on the edge of the rally holding up a sign. The letters on the white sign looked as though they had been neatly painted by hand. They spelled out grow minds, not muscles!
The man was rhythmically pumping his sign and chanting, “Grow minds, not muscles!” He tried to get people to join his chant, but no one did. In fact, people seem
ed to be avoiding him.
“Who is he?” Ben asked. A nearby girl overheard him and laughed. “That’s Mr. Powell, the old art teacher. He’s retired, but he shows up at all the games and pep rallies to protest,” she said.
“Protest what?” Hannah asked.
“He thinks the school district spends too much money on sports,” the girl explained. “He thinks they should spend more on the arts.”
“More money for the arts sounds good,” Hannah said.
“But less money for sports sounds terrible,” Corey added.
“I say more money for everyone,” Ben concluded. “Especially us.”
They decided to walk to the other side of the rally, away from Mr. Powell and his one-man protest. They could still hear him chanting as they walked away. “Grow minds, not muscles!”
Even without Rocky the Ram, the crowd was getting excited. One of the assistant coaches was talking into a megaphone, getting everyone charged up. Soon, the players would run out in their uniforms and everyone would cheer.
But Ben noticed a few guys who didn’t seem excited at all. They hung back, watching the rally from behind a tree. “What’s the deal with those guys over there? Behind the tree,” he said. “Not much school spirit.”
Hannah and Corey looked. “I think I recognize one of those guys,” Corey said. “He plays football. A running back. Really fast.”
“Why is he behind that tree?” Hannah wondered. “Shouldn’t he be putting on his uniform?”
Corey shook his head. “He doesn’t play for Woodlands. He goes to Jefferson. He’s a Viking, not a Ram.”
“Then what’s he doing here?” Ben asked.
“Invading?” Corey suggested.
A big cheer went up. As the marching band played the school’s fight song, the football players came running out of the gym wearing their uniforms. They ran across the football field toward the pep rally.
“Finally!” Corey said. “Now they can light the bonfire.”
Not quite. First the coach had to thank everyone for the rally and to say a few words about what a good job the team was doing this year, and how hard they were working, and how they were one of the best teams it’d ever been his pleasure to coach, and how they were sure to win tomorrow. . . .
And then, at last, it was time for the bonfire.
The firefighters lit the pile of wood. The flames spread quickly, leaping into the dark sky. The fire crackled. The smell of burning wood filled the night air.
Corey watched the fire, smiling. It was even bigger than he’d imagined. Ben and Hannah enjoyed the bonfire too. “This was a good idea,” Hannah said. “And I’m finally warm.”
But after a few minutes, Corey turned to Ben and Hannah and said, “Okay, let’s go.”
“Already?” Hannah asked.
“But the fire’s still burning,” Ben said. “This is what we came to see!”
“I like to see the fire at its biggest,” Corey explained. “Not when it’s dying down and going out and smoldering. That’s just depressing.”
Corey headed home. Hannah and Ben looked at each other, shrugged, and followed him.
The bonfire shot sparks into the night sky.
Chapter 2
The remains of the fire weren’t smoldering the next morning. The firefighters had made sure the bonfire was completely out before they left. All that remained were cold black cinders and gray ashes.
Two custodians from the high school trudged out to the parking lot to clean up the mess.
“Sure,” one of them said to the other, “a bonfire’s real fun. Unless you’re the guys who have to clean up the mess afterward.”
“It’s not that bad,” the other custodian answered. “We sweep up the ashes and hose off the parking lot. Simple.”
“Well then,” the first custodian said, snorting, “maybe I should just let you handle it by yourself.”
Despite his grumbling, they both got right to work with their push brooms. The bonfire had left lots of gray ashes and black chunks of scorched wood. But soon they noticed something else in the pile.
Something furry.
“What is that?” the first custodian asked.
“I don’t know,” said the second custodian, peering at the hairy mess in the pile of ashes. “I hope some poor animal didn’t wander into the fire last night.”
“I don’t think animals wander into big fires,” the first custodian said. “They’re not that dumb.”
Using a broom, they fished out the strange object. They stared at it. Then the first custodian realized what it was.
“It’s an animal, all right,” he said. “It’s Rocky the Ram.”
Sure enough, it was the charred remains of the costume worn by the school mascot. They could see the ram’s head and the furry ram’s suit with hooves on the ends of the sleeves and the legs. How had the costume ended up in the bonfire?
The two custodians looked around, puzzled. The second custodian noticed something white pinned to a nearby tree. “Looks like a note,” he remarked.
He quickly walked over to the sycamore to read the note. It read, GET READY TO GO DOWN IN FLAMES! VIKINGS RULE!
“Vikings?” the custodian said. “That’s the team over at Jefferson High School.”
“What should we do with this?” the first custodian asked, the burned costume still hanging off his broom.
The second custodian stood there looking at the note, thinking. “I say we take the whole mess to the principal.”
“Is he here? On a Saturday?”
“Probably. There’s a football game this afternoon. He’ll be here for that.”
His coworker nodded. They dropped the scorched costume into a garbage bag, unpinned the note from the tree, and headed into the school.
That afternoon Corey was at the football game between Woodlands High School and Jefferson High School.
He was not enjoying it.
He loved football. He loved playing it, and he loved watching other people play it—on TV or live and in person. On a sunny afternoon in fall, there was nothing he liked better than being outside playing or watching football. But he did not enjoy watching the team he was rooting for lose.
And today the Woodlands High School Rams were losing. Big time. At the moment, the score was 56 to 13. And it was only the third quarter.
The Jefferson High Vikings seemed to be scoring almost every time they got their hands on the football. And almost every time the Woodlands High Rams got their hands on the ball, they lost it to the Vikings.
Corey tried to experience the game as something other than a depressing, humiliating defeat. He decided to see it as a learning opportunity. He concentrated on analyzing what the Rams were doing wrong and what the Vikings were doing right.
Other fans around him in the stands were grumbling.
“What is wrong with this team?” one man said with a growl.
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong,” the man sitting next to him answered. “They should never have played without Rocky the Ram. That’s bad luck.”
“Where is Rocky, anyway?” the first man asked.
The second man shrugged. “I don’t know. But wherever he is, he’s having more fun than we are.”
A man sitting in front of them twisted around to share his opinion. “It’s got nothing to do with the mascot. The players just aren’t any good this year. In fact, they stink.”
“Hey!” the second man said. “Watch what you say. My son’s on that team!”
The men started arguing about why the team was losing so badly, and the spectators around them joined in. Some thought it was the players’ fault. Some thought it was the coach’s. Others thought it was the plays they were running. It was the defense. It was the offense. It was both. . . .
It wa
s a lot more fun to argue about why the team was losing than to watch them lose.
Corey started thinking about how different things would be once he joined the high school team. He’d start scoring, and they’d start winning. And keep winning. Maybe even a state championship. He pictured himself running the length of the entire field, returning the ball from a kickoff to score a touchdown, dodging tacklers . . .
A cheer went up from the bleachers on the other side of the field. The Vikings had just scored another touchdown.
After the game, the principal of Woodlands High School had driven straight from the football field to the police station. He was actually glad he had an errand to run. He didn’t like the idea of hanging around after the Rams’ loss. Parents would just come up to him complaining and urging him to hire a new coach.
He liked the coach. He worked hard and seemed to really care about his players. He stressed the importance of getting good grades. And he was a good math teacher. It’d be awful to have to fire him just because he lost a few games. Or even a lot of games.
Inside the station, Principal Hall dropped a plastic bag onto the floor of Officer Inverno’s office. Officer Inverno sniffed.
“What’s in that?” he asked. “Smells like a brush fire.”
“It’s our mascot costume—Rocky the Ram,” Principal Hall explained. “Somebody burned it in our bonfire at the pep rally last night.”
The policeman opened the trash bag and took a look inside. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s pretty badly burned, but I recognize it.”
“Whoever did it left this note,” Principal Hall continued, handing Officer Inverno the note the custodians had found pinned to the tree.
“‘Get ready to go down in flames,’” the policeman read. He looked up at the principal. “Did they?”
The principal sighed. “Yes. The Rams lost. The Vikings were just too tough for them.”
Officer Inverno frowned. “I’m not sure this qualifies as a police matter. It’s really more of a school prank.”
“An expensive prank,” Principal Hall said. “These mascot costumes aren’t cheap. And our budget is already stretched to the breaking point as it is. Whoever did this shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it.”