by Tiki Barber
But the two didn’t dare high-five or celebrate. Both of them knew it was only one play. And unless Coach Spangler agreed to give them more playing time, they’d still be back on the bench that Saturday.
The third-stringers ran the other two plays, “Alabama” and “Auburn.” Tiki made another big gain with “Auburn,” a running play designed for the halfback.
And guess who brought him down in the backfield? Ronde, again.
“Hey, you guys!” Matt Clayton called to them as the third team trotted off the field at the end of practice. “Nice going!”
Tiki and Ronde jogged over to him as he gathered up his crutches. “I’ve got a great idea,” Matt said. “How’d you guys like to help me work back into shape next week?”
“What do you mean?” Ronde asked.
“I mean, I want to get back on the field as soon as possible,” Matt said. “That means I’m gonna have to be throwing every day, and running the new plays so I get familiar with them. You guys have the kind of talent I want to work with.”
“Thanks, man!” Tiki said.
“So, is that a yes?” Matt asked.
“Count on it!” Ronde said, and they all high-fived each other.
Tiki and Ronde headed back into the locker room, floating on a cloud. They’d made a big impression in practice, and Matt Clayton had paid them the biggest possible compliment—he wanted them to help him get back into playing shape. On top of that, he’d said they had talent!
Then the twins caught sight of Coach Spangler, sitting alone in a corner, making notes on his clipboard.
And they remembered—their day wasn’t over yet.
“It’s now or never,” Ronde said. “You still game, Tiki? Or are you gonna chicken out?”
Tiki wished he could chicken out. He didn’t feel like ruining the good impression they’d made by complaining to the coach like a couple of brats.
But no way was he going to let his brother call him a chicken for the next ten years!
They approached Coach Spangler, standing next to him until he looked up. “Hey, guys,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Um, Coach,” Ronde began. Then he hesitated.
“Yes?”
“Um . . . Tiki wants to ask you something.”
“What?” Tiki said. “This was your idea!”
“Shut up!” Ronde hissed.
“Guys! Guys!” Coach Spangler said, holding up his hands. “Somebody tell me what’s going on. Please.”
Tiki sighed. Obviously, after all Ronde’s strutting, he was being a total wimp! “Coach . . . Ronde and I . . . well, our mom always says you should stand up for yourself and speak out when you think something’s important.”
“I agree,” said the coach. “Your mom is a smart lady. What’s on your mind?”
“So, um . . . well, we just think . . . we ought to be playing more.”
Coach Spangler let out a little laugh, but Tiki could tell he wasn’t amused. “Look, kids,” he said. “You did very well today. I’ve seen flashes from both of you. I’m sure you’re both gonna be starters for this team someday. And I’m glad you spoke up.”
Tiki was starting to feel better about asking, but Coach Spangler wasn’t through yet.
“But understand this—I’ve got seventy kids here, and every one of them wants to play every single down of every single game. Well, it ain’t gonna happen. Some kids are gonna play more than others, and the longer they’re with the team, the more they’re gonna play. Got it?”
“Got it,” Tiki said in a small voice.
“Got it,” Ronde said, even more quietly.
“You’re gonna get your chance to shine,” Coach Spangler assured them. “It’s gonna happen—probably sooner than you think. In the meantime, though, you’ve gotta remember—it’s all about the team. If we win, it’s the team that wins. If we lose, we all lose together. Now, you want to be starters?”
“Yeah!” Tiki and Ronde said together.
“Then you’ve gotta earn it, just like everybody else—by being good teammates. And remember, football’s a mental game, too. Get your heads in the right place, and the rest will happen naturally in time.”
• • •
Tiki and Ronde showered and changed back into their street clothes for the ride home on the late bus. They didn’t talk much—in fact, they hardly said a word.
Tiki was disappointed. On the other hand, he had to remember all the good stuff that had happened today.
Most of all, he was excited about working out with Matt Clayton. Tiki liked Matt—he was a good guy and a great teammate. No, more than a teammate—he’d been the star of the team, and was bound to be again, once he came back for real. If Tiki and Ronde became real friends of his, it would be the coolest thing ever!
• • •
When they got home, their mom was in the dining room. The whole table was covered with petition forms, all of them full of signatures. Mrs. Barber was mumbling to herself, counting the names. “2,456 . . . 2,457 . . . 2,458 . . .”
“Wow, Ma, look at all these!” Ronde said.
“Sssh! 2,459 . . . 2,460! 2,460 signatures! I can hardly believe it.”
“That’s a lot!” Tiki said. “You did a great job, Ma!”
“Not just me,” said Mrs. Barber. “I had a whole team to help me.”
“Mom, that sounds like what coach says at practice,” Ronde said.
Well, not exactly, thought Tiki. But pretty close.
“Did you know that Mrs. Pendergast once had a family of her own?” their mom suddenly said.
“Uh-uh,” said Tiki.
“No,” said Ronde.
“I didn’t know myself, until today. I happened to say something about our campaign—that it was all about keeping my family healthy—meaning you two boys. And she just burst out crying. It turns out her husband and two children were killed in a car crash a few years back.”
“What?”
Tiki was shocked, and he could see that Ronde was, too.
“That’s right,” said Mrs. Barber. “Ever since then, she’s devoted herself heart and soul to helping other people and their families.”
Tiki felt sorry now that he’d ever called Mrs. Pendergast weird.
“She’s somebody to be admired, not feared,” said their mom. She let out a sad sigh. “That poor woman. No wonder she talks to herself sometimes. She must be one of the loneliest people on earth.”
“Not anymore,” Tiki said with a smile. “’Cause she’s part of a team!”
“That’s right, Tiki. And this team’s moving on to victory, don’t you worry about that.”
“Well, you sure did a good job getting all these signatures,” Ronde said.
“Ronde, don’t forget—you and your brother are part of this campaign, too. It’s for your sakes I got involved in the first place, and I expect you to come to the next council meeting.”
“Again?” Ronde and Tiki said together.
“Boys,” said their mother, “being a part of a team isn’t always fun. Sometimes you’ve got to show up when you don’t feel like it. We need a big showing at this next meeting, and every head counts. You’ve got heads, don’t you?”
Tiki and Ronde laughed. “Sure do,” said Tiki.
“Uh-huh,” said Ronde.
“Well, then, plan on being there tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow? I’ve got a big test the day after!” Tiki moaned.
“Me too!” Ronde said.
“Well, then,” said their mom, smiling, “I guess you’d better get started studying right away.”
CHAPTER TEN
THE ROAD NOT VICTORY
* * *
“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 ne
ighborhood.
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 h
ave 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!