Date: Sat, 21 Nov 2015 10:55:42 -0500
From: Paul Knoke <paulkdoctor@gmail.com>
Subject: INSTALLMENT THIRTY-SEVEN of "THE FATHER CONTRACT"

INSTALLMENT THIRTY-SEVEN
from

THE FATHER CONTRACT
by

Arthur J. Arrington

Edited Paul K. Scott

Please consider a donation to Nifty to keep this thrilling story of PJ
going on and on!

Chapter Sixty-Eight: Playing Hurt

When PJ and Erik got to the Field House that afternoon, four buses were
parked outside the main entrance.

"Geez! What'd Fieldstone do, bring the whole school?" Erik exclaimed.

And when Brian, followed by Phil, came in and asked, "What's with all those
buses outside?," Erik said with a shrug, "Got me. Maybe Fieldstone has a
big team."

While they were getting their equipment on, Matthew, his ever-present
clipboard in hand, came and stood by the door. Then Coach Lewis appeared.
He kept the team together in the room until everyone was ready to leave.
"Just a few words before we hit the field," he told them. "Fieldstone has a
1-3 record. We're 2-1, but past records mean nothing in a game like
this. These guys are your traditional rivals. They brought their team and
three busloads of kids and fans with them, and they'd like nothing better
than to knock you off! If they win, they probably won't care what happens
in the rest of their games because if they beat you, the season's a
success. There'll be lots of people in the stands on our side, too, so
you're gonna have a big crowd. Don't let it get you so excited that you
forget what you're supposed to do. Concentrate on the game. Remember your
assignments. You can beat this team!" He clapped his hands. "Alright, guys,
let's get out there!"

They left the locker room as a group and jogged down to the field, where a
big cheer went up from the stands as they came out onto the sidelines. PJ
was surprised by the size of the crowd. He looked around eagerly, hoping
against hope to see Jack. He was also hoping to see Chip and mostly Carol,
the girl he'd met at Brian's wrestling meet.

"Hey! There's Bill!" Erik exclaimed. He waved his arm excitedly. "He's got
Billy and his dad with him. And I think there's someone else, too."

"Where?" PJ's heart leaped. Bill had brought Jack!

"Right up there." Erik pointed.

"Hey! That's my dad!" Brian shouted. "Dad! Hey, Dad!" He frantically waved
his arms.

PJ recognized Brian's father, the man he'd seen on the day Brian and Phil
had come back to school. Next to him stood Bill, a big smile on his face,
with Mr. Thatcher and Billy on his other side. Billy, obviously excited,
was bouncing up and down. When he saw that PJ had spotted him, he waved and
shouted something. PJ waved back. Meantime, Phil and Brian were returning
the smiles and waves of Brian's dad. Obviously, that "someone else" had not
been Jack. With a sinking feeling, PJ searched the stands one more
time. Please, please, he was thinking. Maybe he's here in secret. Like in
disguise so he won't be recognized. He's gonna surprise me! But there was
no tall rangy figure wearing dark glasses in sight. Jack wasn't there.

PJ turned away. Until that moment, he'd not realized just how much he'd
been counting on Jack showing up. There was a ringing in his ears. Tears
blurred his vision . . . . Knock it off, he told himself, but it took a few
seconds before he was aware again of his surroundings.

". . . This is great," Phil was saying. "I wish my dad was here too."

"He'll come to a game." Brian had an arm around his roommate. "He said
so. Boy, I hope I get to play today. I want my dad to see me."

"Just be ready," Erik told him. "You played almost an entire half last
week. You never know. For sure you'll get in on special teams."

Reminding himself to be happy for his friends and not to be all
disappointed because Jack hadn't come, PJ trotted over to where Coach Lewis
stood with red-haired Matthew beside him. "Coach, am I gonna start today?"

His coach seemed a little surprised. Sure, PJ. Didn't you know that?"

"My name has a question mark by it on the bulletin board."

"That was because of your hip." It's not bothering you now, is it?"

"Nope." Actually, PJ could still feel a twinge once in awhile, but he
wasn't going to tell the coach that. "Coach, do you remember Brian, the kid
who played receiver so well in the second half last week?"

Coach Lewis smiled. "I know who he is, PJ."

"His dad came to see him play today. If you need to substitute, you can put
him in for me. I won't mind."

Coach Lewis tousled PJ's blonde hair and looked at him very fondly. "I'll
get Brian into the game, PJ. Don't you worry. And when he comes in, he
won't be substituting for you. I want you in this game as much as
possible. But it was nice of you to offer. And listen, PJ. I do not want
you getting hurt out there again. If that hip causes any trouble, or
anything else happens, you are to tell me. Remember, you promised."

PJ smiled. "I will Coach. Don't worry." He trotted back to his friends
feeling a little happier. He liked Coach Lewis a lot and it always made him
feel better to talk to him. But he had no intention of giving his coach any
excuses for taking him out.

"Brian," he told his younger friend, "you're definitely getting into the
game. Coach Lewis says so. Be sure you're ready when he tells you." Brian
grinned happily and nodded.

"PJ," Phil asked. "Do you think I'll get in?"

Before PJ could answer, Erik said, "Almost certainly on special teams." He
put an arm around Phil's shoulders. "But when you go in, remember what
you've been taught and don't do anything stupid that will mess up your
throwing arm. You're a quarterback, and quarterbacks are much too important
to risk getting messed up like ordinary players. Let guys like PJ and Brian
take the hard knocks."  While Phil laughed at this, with Brian joining in,
PJ smacked Erik's shoulder pad and said, "Come on, hotshot. Take your
important quarterback butt out on the field and warm up with us ordinary
players."

"Oh, man!" his roommate groaned. "Listen to that. I get no respect."

Just then both a girl's and a boy's voice called out. PJ turned and saw
Randy escorting Carol to a seat behind the Gordonsville bench. Both waved.
Randy had a grin on his face and was giving PJ an "OK" sign, his thumb and
forefinger touching to form a circle.

"Hey! You made it!" PJ yelled excitedly.

Carol flashed a beautiful smile. She was dressed stylishly for the cool
weather in high socks, tweed skirt, sweater, muffler, and knitted wool
hat. The muffler and hat, both in red and blue Gordonsville colors, set off
the cornsilk gold of her hair. PJ thought she could have stepped right out
of an Abercrombie and Fitch catalog!

"PJ . . ." Erik was staring, his mouth slightly open. "Who is that?"

"Her name's Carol," PJ answered, assuming an air of nonchalance. "I told
you about her. She's Chip's sister. The girl I met at the wrestling."

"That's Carol!?" Erik continued to stare. Nearby, Phil whispered something
to Brian, who suppressed a snicker.

"She's not interested in quarterbacks," laughed PJ. He waved to Carol once
more before pushing Erik toward the field, where the rest of the team had
gathered for warm-ups under the direction of an assistant coach. "She only
likes guys that can catch the passes and score touchdowns."

	"Geez . . . no respect " his best friend grumbled.

Phil and Brian followed behind, Brian still trying to hide laughter. Phil
trotted up close to PJ and briefly touched his hand. Was he jealous of
Carol?

During the warm-up drills, PJ glanced several times over at where Randy and
Carol were sitting, not far from Billy and the rest of his friends. At
least we got a cheering section for the game, he thought. Then regretfully,
I wish Jack had come. Carol woulda' liked meeting him. He tried not to
think anymore about that. Instead, he vowed to try for some big play, like
an interception or a touchdown that would impress Carol. It's pretty cool
Randy and Carol came to watch.

After both teams had warmed up, the officials held the coin
toss. Gordonsville won and elected to receive. Phil and Brian, assigned to
the return unit for the opening kickoff, ran onto the field with the rest
of their special team. Phil took his position as one of the two deep men
designated to catch the ball.

Erik paced the sideline, watching, clearly upset. "If that kid gets hurt,
I'm gonna kill Coach! What's he thinkin'?"

"Erik . . ."  PJ took hold of his friend's elbow. "You can't baby him. Ya'
gotta let him play. Phil's pretty tough. Ya' oughta' see him in swim
practice."

"Swimming's not football," Erik growled. He stared out at the players on
the field. "We're gonna need that kid. If he gets hurt now. . ."

"I know. We are gonna need him . . .

He broke off what he'd started to say. From the first day they'd met, PJ
had been haunted by the feeling that somehow Phil was important to the
goals he and Erik had set. He was startled by a certainty, the same kind of
certainty he'd often had about Jack and the Red Sox, as if he knew what was
going to happen. We're gonna need Phil. Not just for the secret pass play,
but he has to be ready to come in as quarterback an' win a game for us!
Because it won't be him that gets hurt.  It'll be . . .

Fighting to conceal a sudden fear for his best friend, who very well might
get hurt before Phil ever did, PJ urged, "The kid's gotta get out there,
Erik. He's gotta learn. He'll be okay. This isn't Hagerton. Fieldstone
plays like we do. They're not out to hurt anybody." He pointed. "Look!
There's nothing for you to worry about. See?"

The Fieldstone kickoff, wobbly and short, went nowhere near Phil. Another
Gordonsville player grabbed the ball and returned it across midfield to the
forty-eight. Erik slapped PJ's shoulder pads. "Okay! Let's roll!"

As he followed his roommate onto the field, PJ brushed aside whatever
anxiety he had about either Erik or Phil by concentrating on one thought:
We're starting from a great position. Now let's score!

Erik first called several running plays to get the ground game
established. When he lined up for them, PJ saw immediately that he was
being double-teamed, so he reported this to Erik back in the huddle. His
counterpart, the wide receiver on the left side, was the reluctant
thirteen-year-old Brian had replaced in the Hagerton game. PJ guessed that
Coach Lewis had asked Eric to try working with him again. Erik squinted
hard at the boy and told him, "If PJ's double-teamed, you should be able to
get open."

The receiver flushed and looked sullen. "They're on me real tight."

"Well, try!" Erik coldly said and called a pass play for the
third-and-three situation.

On the snap, PJ dashed into the flat and tried to cut. His hip was still
giving him some pain, but even so, he shook off one defender. He was trying
to shake off the other one when the crowd noise suddenly increased! He
turned his head to see what was happening, but his view was blocked by the
tunnel vision of his helmet. The play was over before he could make sense
of anything, Erik was getting up from the bottom of a pile, and the
officials were signaling a first down.

"Had to do some creative footwork on that one," Erik panted once PJ had
come running over. "Everyone was covered."

"They had two guys on me again," PJ told him. "Someone must've been open."

Erik shook his head. "No." He looked out of the corner of his eye at the
thirteen-year-old receiver as if to assure PJ that the kid hadn't been
dogging it. "It looks like they're bringing up the safety to help the
corner."

They tried some more running plays and continued to get yardage as the
Fieldstone defenders grudgingly gave ground. The cheering from both sides
of the field was nearly continuous. When they neared the goal line, the
defense stiffened. Erik chucked a quick pass over the middle to PJ, who was
able to stumble forward enough for the first down before being sandwiched
from both sides. A dull pain throbbed in his right leg after he was thrown
to the turf. He got up slowly, grimacing from the effort it took to keep
from limping when he went to the huddle.

"Nice one, PJ," Erik told him.

They finally scored on the next play. Erik slipped a furtive handoff to
Gary from the pro-set and faked rolling out to pass. As the defense shifted
to follow him, Gary ran untouched into the end zone. Gordonsville led, 6-0!

In order to make that fake pass attempt look real, PJ had used another
sudden cut to sucker in his defenders. The maneuver had cost him a stab of
pain so excruciating he had difficulty walking off the field after the
play. As he watched Tommy get the extra point, he told Erik, "I'm gonna try
something new. For the rest of this quarter, I'll make it look like I can't
run too well because of my hip. They're double-teaming me because they
scouted us and know I'm dangerous. But they also must know I was limping
last week in the last part of the game. I'll make them think I'm slowed
down and hurting again. Then, they'll slack off a little and . . ."

". . . Whamo!" Erik said, grinning. "Yeah. I like it. Let's try that."

For the rest of the quarter, PJ played conservatively, resting his hip as
much as he could. The throbbing in his leg stopped, but a persistent dull
ache was a reminder that real pain would return with any hard contact. "I
think it's working," Erik told him on the next drive. "You look real
convincing."

The Fieldstone defenders managed to stop them on that possession. After
receiving Tommy's punt, their offense followed up with a good drive of
their own, sparked by one of their runners getting a twenty-yard gain that
put Fieldstone into Gordonsville territory for the first time. They went on
to score. The quarter ended in a 7-7 tie.

The second quarter opened with Gordonsville back on its own fifteen, trying
to get another drive started. PJ continued to play under wraps, and the
Fieldstone defense swarmed in against the run, confident they'd blunted the
Gordonsville passing attack. Still, by mixing his plays and getting a few
short completions, Erik was able to move the ball to midfield. It was
third-and-seven when Erik nudged PJ as he came to the huddle. "This is it!"
he whispered. "I'll call another short pass. Do a long post instead." In
the huddle, when he called the play, he looked at the other, older receiver
and told him, "You gotta get open over the middle."

"They're gonna be lookin' for it," the boy whined. "I'll get creamed."

"We need a first down," Erik said. "Let's go."

PJ lined up at his position, moving a little slowly just as he'd been doing
ever since the tackles in the first quarter. The ache deep in his leg was
still there.

Erik leaned over Cuyler, the center, and went into his count. "Hu-u-ut,
Hut!"

On the snap, PJ ran straight ahead into the secondary, cautiously favoring
his hip. He'd done the same thing now, play after play, only occasionally
button-hooking in a comeback move to catch one of Erik's short passes. His
two defenders moved over to cover him. Lulled into complacency by his
apparent slowness and unvarying pattern, they were caught completely by
surprise when he accelerated and cut to the middle! Pain flashed through
his right leg, but he tenaciously suppressed it and raced off downfield
away from an outmaneuvered coverage.

The rest of the defense was coming up to stop Erik from scrambling as they
saw him roll out. PJ was all alone when the football spiraled thought the
air to him, just slightly underthrown. He had to slow down a bit to catch
it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fieldstone uniforms coming for
him. Fire burned in his right leg, but PJ ignored that, forcing himself by
sheer power of will to lengthen his stride once more and sprint for the end
zone. He crossed the goal line holding the ball up in his victory salute!
His leg throbbed fiercely as he dropped to one knee and touched both chains
around his neck. "That was one for you, Erik," he whispered. He thought of
how Erik had helped him the night before and all the other times, and how
lucky he was to have a friend like that.

He got up awkwardly, grimacing at the pain, just as his teammates arrived
to congratulate him. As they thronging around and escorted him off the
field, he concealed his limp behind their surrounding bodies. Erik grinned
at him. They high-fived. Then his roommate put an arm around his
shoulders. "That was a great catch, PJ. I know I didn't throw that very
well!"

"It was close enough," PJ assured him. "Yours always are." He headed
straight for the bench so he could sit down and rest his leg. Brian and
Phil settled next to him on one side and Erik on the other. After Tommy got
the extra point, Brian trotted away to join the special team for the
subsequent kickoff. PJ saw Phil's look of disappointment as he watched his
friend go. "You'll be out there when it's the receiving team," he told
him. "Just be patient. We don't need you messing your arm up on a tackle."

While everyone watched Kip boom a kickoff, PJ got up and cautiously
stretched his leg.  His hip throbbed, but as long as he didn't make any
sudden moves, it was bearable. He walked back and forth to loosen up, and
only shortly after did he remember that he had friends in the stands. He'd
scored a touchdown while Carol was watching! How cool was that! He turned
toward where she was sitting next to Randy. Randy was saying something to
her, but PJ noted with delight that instead of paying attention, she was
looking at him! When she noticed that he was looking back, she smiled,
waved, and gave him a thumb's-up sign. Yeah! If only Jack had come too, PJ
thought wistfully. Even if it had only been for a short time, he could've
introduced Carol to him . . . . Randy wouldn't have been able to top that!

He searched the stands again, saw Billy waving, and gave him an "OK" sign
back. A few rows up, Mr. and Mrs. Williamson sat together, but they were
not looking his way. With little hope, he still scanned the crowd. There
was no sign of Jack. For a moment, it felt like one of his dreams. In his
head, a voice was saying, He won't ever come. You won't ever see him again.

"No"! PJ said aloud. "He'll come! He will!" Maybe not this day. But someday
he will! He'll be here for the Father-Son Dinner. He promised me he would!
He promised!

 The other boys looked at PJ quizzically, in wonder about what his outburst
had been all about. He just shrugged his shoulders. But Erik knew . . .

Despite the sunlight of the crisp afternoon, PJ felt a brief darkness
passing around him. With an effort he pushed it away, made himself smile,
and returned to the bench.

Brian came back off the field and sat down again. "Held them to only a
seven-yard runback," he said with a grin.

Once Gordonsville's defense set up on the field, they stopped a Fieldstone
run for no gain. But on the very next play, the opposing quarterback threw
a fifteen-yard pass completion. "That was pretty good," Erik observed. "Our
guys better tighten up." Out on the field, the Gordonsville players tried
to do just that, but Fieldstone continued to move the ball, drawing closer
and closer to the goal as their fans cheered them on. Finally, an
underthrown pass from the quarterback found a receiver in the end zone, who
lucked into a shoestring catch. A roar went up from the other side of the
field. PJ could hear the sounds of cowbells and air horns.

Erik swore under his breath and said, "Looks like we've got to try
again. How's your leg?"

"It's okay." PJ walked around on it a little, forcing himself not to
limp. The extra point kick was good and the score was again tied, 14-14.

Phil ran onto the field with the kick receiving team as one of the deep
men. "If any of those guys tackle him and hurt that kid, I'm going to
personally break their legs," Erik muttered.

"He'll be okay," PJ assured him. "Look how fast he is."

His roommate just grunted. As it turned out, it was the other boy playing
deep who handled the kick. Phil threw a block that enabled the ball carrier
to get to the thirty-six. PJ saw Erik say something to Phil and give him a
pat on his behind as they went on the field.

The drive that followed was another long struggle for tough yards. The
coverage on PJ remained tight and the defense regarded him warily, not
about to let him get behind them again. But they played off enough so that
he was able to get loose for the occasional short pass. Erik utilized him
twice for gains on second or third downs, which kept the attack from
stalling.

The other two receivers were not doing very well. The tight end was trying
hard to get open, but he was in the game primarily as a blocker, and his
ability to elude the defense and catch a pass was limited. The other wide
receiver kept complaining that he was covered. Erik threw to him a couple
of times, only to see his passes dropped or batted away.

"They're all over me," the older boy complained. Erik didn't say anything
and called a run for the next play.

They reached midfield where it seemed as though Fieldstone had stopped
them. A slant off-tackle piled up on the line for no gain, and the
attempted short pass Erik threw to PJ on second down got tipped away by a
good defensive effort. Erik's face was grim as he called for another pass
in the huddle. "Try to get open, guys," he pleaded. On the snap, he faded
back. PJ was dodging around as best he could, but was afraid to cut too
sharply because of his hip. His defenders were hovering right with him. He
could see Erik in the backfield looking out into the flat, trying to find a
target. The pocket was collapsing all around him, linemen piling in, eager
for the sack. Suddenly, his friend stepped nimbly to one side, avoided a
tackle, and raced off around the end. The two defenders guarding PJ moved
to intercept, so he threw a block at the closest one, cart-wheeling him as
he tried to angle past. Erik flew by heading for the sidelines. By the time
he was pushed out of bounds by a pursuing linebacker, he was five yards
past the first-down marker.

PJ slapped Erik's palm as they jogged to the huddle. "Nice one," he said,
grinning.

His friend grinned back. "Thanks for the block. Hey, listen. We've been
running on every first down. Let's try another pass play. This time fake to
the middle and come back to me."

"Right," PJ said.

Erik called it and they lined up. On the snap, PJ ran out into his
coverage, which as usual retreated in front of him. A quick fake toward the
middle of the field sent a twinge of pain through his hip. He button-hooked
and once again faced the line of scrimmage. Erik delivered the ball
quickly, hitting PJ in the shoulder pads after he'd only taken a couple of
steps. PJ whirled as soon as he'd secured the ball. The second defender,
the one playing closer to the middle of the field, had turned in on his
fake and was still recovering, but the first one was close, coming fast for
the tackle. The initial hit sent another sharp pain stabbing down his
leg. Desperately, he spun around, avoided the boy's grasping arms, and
accelerated away from him.

More defenders were coming. Pushing off his good leg, PJ churned ahead,
lifting his knees high as he felt hands grabbing at him. He broke free and
sprinted up the sideline as more boys in Fieldstone uniforms converged. A
straight-arm took out one. Tight-roping the chalk to stay inbounds,
ignoring the pain in his leg, he lengthened his stride. When the last
would-be tackler tried to grab him, he pulled the boy with him over the
goal line, both of them rolling onto the ground! PJ tried to protect his
hip by curling into a ball. As other bodies landed nearby or hurdled over
his little pile, he could hear thunderous cheers coming from the
Gordonsville stands.

That one's for you Jack, PJ thought. He closed his eyes, tried not to think
about how badly his hip was throbbing, and instead visualized Jack watching
from the stands, disguised in sun glasses so he could secretly be there to
see the game. More than anything, he wished that could've been true. As he
struggled to get up, it came to him that in a way, Jack was there, that the
real Jack could never leave him as long as he believed. "Never stop
believing," PJ whispered. "Anything's possible!

"PJ! PJ, what a run!" Erik was there, helping him get to his feet. He gave
PJ a hug and pounded him on the back. "Way to go!" he yelled. "That was
awesome." He started to trot for the bench, but stopped when he saw PJ was
still limping.

"Hey! I forgot, Buddy! Are you okay?" Instantly his eyes narrowed in
concern. "Did that mess your hip up worse?"

PJ shook his head.  "It's okay, just sorer that's all."

He forced himself to ignore the pain and half trotted, half dragged his leg
off the field while the Gordonsville crowd kept cheering. He searched the
stands again, hoping against hope to see Jack's face, and maybe Carol's
face, but the only familiar people he saw were in their little cheering
section. Billy was jumping up and down excitedly, while Mr. Thatcher, Bill,
and Brian's father all were standing up and waving in obvious admiration!
Back behind them, Mr. and Mrs. Williamson were waving too. PJ tried to look
as happy as he could and stoically avoided limping as he waved back.

Suddenly Matthew was at his elbow, excited and happy, yelling, "PJ! That
was awesome! Your yards after that catch were super!"

Coach Lewis beckoned to him. Don't let him see that limp!, PJ warned
himself. Gritting his teeth, he avoided favoring his bad hip when he
trotted over. "Nice run, PJ," the young man said, giving him a pat on the
shoulder pads. "I saw you drag your leg when you got up, though. Is that
hip still bothering you?"

"Nah. Just sore for a few seconds," PJ assured him, deciding that a partial
truth was not exactly a lie.

"I want you to go up to the locker room now and have the trainer get some
hot stuff on that. It's almost the half anyway. Then we'll see how you
feel."

"Okay, Coach," PJ said.

Coach Lewis called over the young assistant coach who doubled as a trainer
and told him what he wanted. The young man gave his clipboard to another
assistant and took PJ around the bleachers toward the Field House. As PJ
followed, trying not to look like a cripple, he heard the crowd groan in
disappointment. Gordonsville missed the extra point. "It's still 20-14,"
the assistant reminded him. "We'll take a lead into the half. That was a
nice run, PJ."

In the training room just off the locker area, PJ pulled down his uniform
pants and hip pads. After placing him on a padded table where he could lie
comfortably on his side, the trainer massaged the hip with a deep heat
balm. PJ relaxed as strong hands rubbed the heat into his joint and
thigh. The worst of the pain began to go away, leaving a persistent dull
ache which was annoying but something he was used to. He stretched out with
his hands over his head and tried to completely relax. The heat and rubbing
pressure eased the pain even more, particularly when the assistant coach
took his knee, brought it up slowly, and stretched it out again. "Better?"
he asked.

PJ nodded his head. He reached down and slipped a palm over the smooth skin
on his hip. "That feels a lot better."

He heard the rest of the team coming into the locker room. Erik joined him,
followed closely by Brian, Phil, and Matthew. "Is it okay?" Erik anxiously
asked the man.

The trainer nodded. "I think so." He went to a cupboard and got out a foam
pad. "Let's try this over your regular pad," he said to PJ. "It'll give you
just a little more protection." PJ pulled his hip pads back up over his
jock. The coach put the extra padding in place and taped it on, wrapping
the tape completely around PJ's hips and butt. When the uniform pants were
pulled back up and laced in the front, they fit well enough, though the
padding stuck out a little. The trainer nodded his head in approval. "It
looks a bit lopsided. But I think it'll work. Let's try it anyway. We can
always take it off."

"That won't be so easy the way it's taped to his butt with all that stuff,"
Erik pointed out. The boys all laughed.

They went into the locker area to hear Coach Lewis' words to the team. "You
had a great first half," the coach told them when they were all gathered
around. "But their offense has moved on you each time they've had the
ball. They almost scored again when they ran out of time at the half. You
guys on the defense need to keep pressure on that quarterback or he's gonna
get lucky with his passing. This game's not close to being over. And these
guys wanna beat you more than anyone else this season. So don't let
up. You've got the lead. Now increase it! Let's go!"

With a loud yell of "Gordonsville!" the team jogged back to the field. PJ
was able to jog along with them by gritting his teeth and forcing himself
not to think about the discomfort in his hip. The extra padding felt
awkward, and it hurt when his hand kept hitting it.

None of that seemed to matter, though, when the home fans in the bleachers
started cheering again for him and his teammates!  Chapter Sixty-Nine: The
Thrill of Victory

Gordonsville was kicking off to start the second half. As Brian ran out on
the field as part of their special team, PJ found a place on the bench
where he could sit and rest his leg, now throbbing again after the jog from
the locker room. He stood up long enough to watch the kick and see Brian
get in on the tackle of the ball carrier on the Fieldstone
twenty-three. Then he sat back down again to let heat from the liniment the
coach had applied soak into his hip. Soon, the throbbing eased.

Erik settled in next to him, along with Brian and Phil, and together they
watched the defense go to work. "We're still letting those receivers get
loose too often," Erik complained.

PJ gave a quick nod in agreement. "Yeah, but at least their quarterback
doesn't pass as good as you."

His roommate scowled, not taking his eyes off the action. "He's doing it
well enough."

Fieldstone moved across the midfield stripe and kept advancing. They got to
the Gordonsville forty-three before the defense dug in, stopping one run
and throwing the ball carrier for a loss on the next. Facing a
third-and-long situation, the other team's quarterback dropped back to
pass. A mix-up in the Gordonsville secondary left a man open, excitedly
waving his arms to get attention. The quarterback saw him all right, but
the pass he threw was a little wobbly and just behind him. The would-be
receiver stopped, turned to get it . . . but the ball hit his hands and
bounced upward. Because a defensive player was there, both boys jumped,
both reached for the ball, and both came down in a heap! The Fieldstone
receiver got up with the ball in his possession. The Gordonsville player
remained on the ground holding his ankle.

"Uh-oh." PJ, along with everyone else, had stood up to look.

In his dual role as trainer, the assistant coach who'd helped PJ earlier
trotted out on the field. He assisted the injured boy to his feet and
supported him while he painfully limped to the sideline. Coach Lewis turned
and gestured for Brian.

"Here you go," Erik told him. "You know what you have to do."

Brian hurried over to the coach. PJ saw him listen, nodding his head. Then
he ran onto the field, pulling on his helmet.

Fieldstone now had a first down on the Gordonsville twenty-six. The first
play they tried was a pass into the flat on Brian's side. But the youngster
was well-drilled by hours of practice with PJ and Erik. He covered his man
closely. A well-thrown ball might still have succeeded because Brian was a
head shorter than his opponent, but the throw was a little off and he was
able to bat it down.

"All right, Brian!" PJ cheered. Erik and Phil were shouting right beside
him. PJ looked back into the stands and gave Billy a thumbs-up. The
youngster grinned as he returned the same sign. Brian's dad, standing next
to Bill, was smiling proudly.

Out on the field, Fieldstone next tried two running plays, but failed to
reach the first down marker. Even so, they had reached the Gordonsville
twenty, close enough to attempt a field goal. On fourth down, their kicker
managed to get off a wobbly try that barely cleared the uprights. The score
changed to Gordonsville 20, Fieldstone 17.

Phil joined Brian on the receiving team for the subsequent kickoff. This
time, Phil caught the ball, executed a nifty run back to the thirty-seven,
and came to the sideline smiling happily.

PJ, going onto the field with the rest of the offense, gave him a palm slap
and sang out, "Way ta' go!" as they passed.

Once more Erik started the offense moving downfield, mixing the runs with
short passes. PJ twisted and dodged, managing to get open a few times, even
under the double coverage. At first, the extra padding on his hip felt a
little awkward, but he got used to it, and it seemed to help because his
leg wasn't hurting as much as it had earlier. He was careful to avoid
cutting too quickly, and when he was tackled after taking one of Erik's
short passes, he twisted his hip away from the contact as much as possible.

The thirteen-year-old receiver on the left side was finally helping a
little. PJ guessed that the coach had been talking to him (he'd better
have, he mused. I don't like that yellow wuss! I forgot all about talkin'
to Coach about him at halftime).  Even the tight end managed to get a
pass. Sandy and Garry, with Jacob blocking for them, were trying their best
to keep the ball advancing on the ground. They made three first downs, but
then stalled on the Fieldstone twenty-eight. A sideline pass attempt failed
when Erik overthrew the ball. It slipped off PJ's fingertips as he jumped
up, straining to get it. The defensive corner back hit him anyway, driving
him out of bounds where he landed right on his injured hip. The extra pad
helped, but he could feel the pain in his leg as Phil helped him over to
the bench to rest. "Nice try, PJ," he said sympathetically.

Brian had gone in to help block on a long field-goal attempt. Erik held the
ball for Kip, who did his best, but his try fell just short. PJ saw Erik
give Kip a pat on the shoulders and say something to him as they came back
to the sidelines. When he reached the bench, Erik sat down heavily next to
PJ and put his helmet on the ground by his feet. "He had that kick right on
line," he said ruefully. "It wasn't his fault. He's just not strong enough
to get it that far." He looked over at PJ. "An' I'm sorry about that
pass. I was trying to keep it out of reach of some guys coming in on me."

"Three!" PJ exclaimed, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Erik stared blankly for a moment. Then he figured it out and grinned. "OK,
PJ."

"I got this list," PJ told him, laughing.

"Yeah, yeah. . . ." Erik laughed too. "Don't rub it in."

They watched the defensive unit go to work out on the field. Phil, after
restless fidgeting, got up and went to the sideline to better keep an eye
on his roommate. Brian was doing such a good job on coverage that the
opposing quarterback had shifted his passes to the other side of the
field. Up on the line, the Gordonsville boys dug in, giving ground
slowly. Twice it seemed they had the opposition stopped, but each time,
Fieldstone somehow got just what they needed for a fresh set of
downs. Then, one of their backs fumbled as he was tackled. PJ, Erik, and
the whole Gordonsville bench came to their feet. With a collective groan,
however, everyone sat down again. Fieldstone had gotten a lucky break. One
of their own linemen had recovered.

That fumble recovery seemed to energize their whole offense! On the next
play, the quarterback scrambled for a first down. He followed this up with
a handoff to their running back, who shot through the middle of the line,
broke a tackle, and got loose in the secondary. Shifting into high gear,
the boy raced down the field. Brian caught him, coming all the way across
from the opposite side to do it, and tackled him just in front of the goal
line. But the running back was a lot bigger than Brian. He dragged him
right over the line to make a touchdown. The extra point kick was good. For
the very first time in the game, Fieldstone took the lead, 20-24.

Brian came to the sidelines for a rest as Phil went out with the receiving
unit for the kickoff. The two roommates touched fists as they passed each
other, but Brian was furious with himself for getting steamrolled into the
end zone. "I should've stopped him! I should've stopped him!" he kept
saying. He was almost crying with frustration.

PJ and Erik stood on either side of him and patted his shoulders. "You did
great just to get to him," Erik said.

"He was a lot bigger than you and he was moving pretty fast," PJ
added. "You did the best you could. There wasn't much anybody could do."

"You stopped your guy when they tried that with you," Brian said, clearly
irritated at himself. "We gotta get the lead back. I don't wanna lose to
these guys."

"We'll get it back," Erik confidently told him.

They watched the kickoff go to the deep man on the side away from Phil, who
returned it all the way to the forty-one. "That's a good start," Erik said
as he pulled on his helmet. "Let's take it the rest of the way." PJ
followed him out onto the field. The clock showed only three minutes left
in the third quarter.

On the first play from scrimmage, PJ got banged up pretty badly. The play
was a run. When he lined up, he found his defender nose-to-nose with him
instead of back a few steps. On the snap, the bigger boy bumped him hard in
the side. PJ bounced off, spun into the secondary where he was supposed to
block, Sandy came around the end just behind, and the play rolled right
over everybody. In the resulting confusion, someone's knee slammed into
PJ's bad hip. From then on, his leg hurt like heck. Teeth gritted, he
walked off the stiffness, doing his best not to limp while taking furtive
glances at the sideline to make sure Coach Lewis wasn't watching. This was
no time to get pulled out of the game! He willed the pain away and went on.

Erik had them moving. As the clock ran down in the quarter, they reached
midfield and then drove into Fieldstone territory. PJ's leg throbbed with
pain, but he closed his mind to it, focused on his assignments, and did his
best to get open for Erik's passes. Only one thing mattered--push that ball
into the end zone and regain the lead.

Then, without any warning, disaster struck! For the first time in the game,
there was a mistake in the Gordonsville backfield. Garry, at tailback, took
a step in the wrong direction as the play started. Although he caught his
mistake immediately, that momentary lapse of judgement caused the handoff
to be late. An opposing lineman hit him in the backfield. The ball flew out
of his hands! Erik tried desperately to get to it, but was pushed aside. A
Fieldstone defender picked up the bouncing pigskin and thundered down the
field with Erik and the rest of the offense in hot pursuit. However, it was
too late. The boy plunged over the goal line before they could catch up to
him! The extra point was good. Suddenly the score was Gordonsville 20,
Fieldstone 31!  After the ensuing kickoff, Gordonsville found themselves
backed up on their own twenty-one when the third quarter ended.

Erik's expression remained grim while they took their break and switched
ends of the field. "Okay, guys," he told them after consoling Garry. "We
don't let one mistake beat us. They're gonna make mistakes, too. Let's put
it together and score some more points for ourselves!"

They started up again with almost the whole length of the field to
traverse. PJ's leg was continually hurting, but he pushed all that aside as
he concentrated on Erik's play calls. His catch of another sideline pass
got them a first down. It also cost him yet another hard hit, although he
managed to twist away from landing on his hip. Then, to his relief, the
coach sent Brian into the game, alternating him with the other wide
receiver to relay plays in from the bench. The pressure on PJ loosened
almost at once. Erik completed a couple of passes to his younger receiver,
and the defense was forced to more closely cover him instead of paying so
much attention to PJ. Gordonsville moved up to midfield and edged into
Fieldstone territory.

Brian shuttled into the huddle bringing in another pass play. "Take it out
down the sideline again, PJ," Erik said. "See if you can't suck those backs
along with you and I'll hit Brian."

PJ nodded. Once more his defender lined up close and directly opposite,
challenging him. Good, thought PJ. Try to stay with me. Let's see how fast
you are now that you've been on the field for awhile.

The ball was snapped. PJ's man attempted to bump him, but after brief
contact, PJ slipped past and ran down the sideline with the defender right
behind. The other defending backs were not going with them, however. Were
they on Brian? What PJ couldn't see behind him was that Brian had been
closely guarded and that linebackers were blitzing in as Erik scrambled out
of the pocket, searching desperately for a new target--any target! Where
was he to throw? Everyone seemed to be covered. He was about to be sacked!
Just to get rid of the ball and avoid being flagged for intentional
grounding, he chucked the thing as far as he could downfield, aiming in the
general direction of PJ, who was not even expecting it!

PJ, thank goodness, fortunately looked behind him and saw the football
coming. He knew immediately that it was long, and rightly assumed that Erik
had been forced to throw a desperation pass. Now it was up to him! Get to
that ball!

Lengthening his stride, and ignoring a stabbing pain in his hip, he poured
on the speed, straining every muscle to get down the sideline faster. He
stretched his arms forward. His fingertips intercepted the ball as it
spiraled down! Fighting for balance, he bobbled it, held on as best he
could, and tried not to stumble. He was still attempting to get control as
he pitched over the goal line. With a final, supreme effort, he tucked the
ball into his chest, fell forward, and tumbled head-over-heels into the
grass of the end zone, where he lay on the ground, gasping, holding the
ball up so the officials could see he had it. His entire right leg was
throbbing and his hip felt as if it was on fire. He wasn't sure that he
could get up by himself, so he waited for his teammates to come and help
him. The Gordonsville stands were rocking with cheers and wild yells. When
his teammates arrived and gave him a hand up, PJ could barely hear their
shouts of celebration amid the noise.

Erik arrived last, having finally gotten out from under a pile of bodies
that'd hit him just after he threw the pass. He had no clue about what had
happened until he saw the celebrating Gordonsville players, heard the
crowd, and saw his roommate being helped up in the end zone. He came
running over, pushed his way through the excited swarm of players, and
hugged PJ excitedly. "Oh man!" he shouted. "I can't believe you caught
that. It was way over your head. I was trying to throw that ball away. How
did you ever get to it?"

"Six!" PJ called delightedly. But before Erik could laugh, PJ suddenly
grabbed his arm, grimacing in pain. "Geez, that hurts!" he said through
gritted teeth. "Lemme hang onta you a minute. Stay in fronta' me so Coach
doesn't see. Ah!" he grimaced again as he tried to take a step. "My whole
leg feels like it's on fire!"

"PJ, you need to go out of the game if it's that bad," Erik's face was a
mask of concern.

PJ emphatically shook his head. "I'll be all right. I just need to rest it
and walk it off. Stay in the middle of everybody. Don't let Coach see!"

Brian and Phil came running up and helped get PJ over to a bench where he
could sit down. Coach Lewis, with red-headed Matthew at his heels, came
over to congratulate him. "What a catch, PJ! That was fantastic! Is your
hip okay?"

"Just a little sore is all." PJ smiled up at him.

"Right," the young coach told him. "Good job." He gave PJ's shoulder pads a
whack, but Matthew, who'd spotted PJ limping and leaning heavily on Erik,
looked at him sympathetically before returning with Coach Lewis to the
sideline. Having nodded to Matthew with appreciation for his concern and
with a sigh of relief for fooling his coach, PJ stretched his leg out
gingerly.

"Hey, look up in the stands," Erik said. Carefully, PJ turned his head. All
his friends were on their feet, cheering. When they saw that PJ was looking
their way, everyone waved. Randy, a huge grin on his face, held out a fist
with his thumb up. Carol gave him the most wonderful smile. Behind them, a
few rows back, the Williamsons were smiling and waving as well. Bill and
Brian's dad were both clapping. They shouted something and Brian's father
pumped his fist. Mr. Thatcher yelled out something as well. Next to him,
Billy was going crazy, jumping up and down and waving his arms. PJ waved
back to all of them.

"I think Billy liked your catch," Erik said with a grin of his own. "I wish
I'd gotten to see it."

"Where in the hell were you?" PJ asked.

His roommate laughed. "Under a pile of other kids. At least half the
Fieldstone defensive unit landed on me after I threw that pass. I was
trying to get rid of it so I just heaved it as far as I could in your
general direction."

"I thought that pass was a little overthrown," PJ said with a straight
face. The two friends looked at each other and burst into more laughter.

On the field, Gordonsville missed the extra point. "26-31," Erik
said. "We're still within a touchdown of beating these guys. Brian, you've
got to hold 'em!"

The younger boy nodded. He picked up his helmet and prepared to go out with
the kickoff special team. "This time we will," he promised, looking very
determined.

PJ sat between Erik and Phil resting his leg while Kip, still angry with
himself for having been short with that earlier field goal attempt, boomed
a shot downfield that ended up on the Fieldstone ten. The runback only got
to the twenty, so their offense started deep in their own territory.

This time, the Gordonsville defense held. Fieldstone's attack sputtered,
then stalled out after one first down. Brian made a good defensive play on
an attempted pass and nearly got an interception. "Way ta' play, Brian!" PJ
yelled. He got off the bench to walk carefully up and down, trying to
loosen his hip enough so he wouldn't limp. As he watched, a running play
failed to get the first down and Fieldstone was forced to punt. The ball
took a Gordonsville bounce and went out of bounds on their
thirty-eight. Teeth again gritted, PJ jogged onto the field, hoping Erik
could get another scoring drive started.

Everything began well when Brian took a pass for a gain of eleven. Erik
confidently called a running play. But Sandy, following Jacob's block into
the line, stumbled. Suddenly the ball was loose again. It seemed a lucky
break that a Gordonsville lineman recovered, yet as so often happens after
a mishap, the offensive rhythm was upset. The next run attempt ended up in
a dog-pile at the line of scrimmage. Fieldstone's defense was all fired up,
and Erik's third-down pass went incomplete! Gordonsville found themselves
punting once more.

Now time became the enemy. One-by-one, the seconds of the fourth quarter
slipped away, bringing defeat ever closer. The Fieldstone team took
possession of the ball and sat on it, trying to run out the
clock. Gordonsville's defense kept the pressure on, forcing their rivals to
go to the air. The Fieldstone quarterback managed to successfully pass for
one first down. Yet again, the defense, led by Nate at his linebacker
position, shut down the run attempts. When the clock stopped for the
two-minute warning, Fieldstone was facing a third-and-long. "Gotta stop 'em
right here," Erik said nervously as he, PJ, and Phil waited for play to
resume.

The offense came up to the line, knowing that a first down might win the
game for them! It was another pass play, the same play that had previously
succeeded. But this time they went to the well once too often. Brian was
anticipating it. The Fieldstone quarterback had been throwing a little
behind his receivers all day. Brian timed his leap perfectly, jumped up for
the pass, and picked it cleanly as it came down short of the intended
target! Though he was tackled immediately, Brian's interception handed
Gordonsville the ball on the Fieldstone forty-six. Their fans were cheering
themselves hoarse!

Shutting out from his mind the pain in his leg, PJ followed Erik onto the
field. Nothing was going to stop him from finishing this game! Erik had all
three timeouts to work with, so he called his plays with patience. That was
important, because the defense was going all out in a last-ditch effort to
stop them. PJ was double and triple-teamed as he sought to break open. They
managed to get a first down on the thirty-three, but were stopped on the
next play when Dustin was smacked to the ground by a solid wall of
defenders for no gain. Erik called a timeout. The clock showed less than a
minute to go.

"Let's rattle this defense and loosen it up," he said during the timeout.

The officials signaled for play to resume. In the huddle, Erik looked at
PJ, winked, and called for a reverse. PJ saw Brian glance at him and felt a
thrill of anticipation. As he trotted up to the line, he was trembling with
exhilaration. Erik was right. Time to rock-an'-roll! He could sense the
fatigue and desperation in the players opposing him. He forgot all about
the pain in his hip and took his stance, focused only on what he was going
to do. Come on, Erik, he thought impatiently. Start the play!

There was the snap of the ball! PJ pretended to stumble . . . then whirled
and ran into the backfield. Erik had already handed off to Sandy, who was
sprinting toward him. Not as practiced as Erik at transferring the ball,
his handoff to PJ was clumsy, but PJ snatched it away as he sprinted around
to the other side. The defense was caught completely by surprise! In their
desperation to stifle the play, they had over-committed and couldn't react
quickly enough to stop PJ from rounding the corner.

Oblivious to the pain in his leg and hip, PJ accelerated to a blur of
speed, with all the power in his solid, compact body. He shot downfield,
his only thought to score. He wasn't going to let anything stop him! The
last defenders with a chance for a tackle were the two backs on that
side. Brian was out in front trying to block. He wasn't big enough to take
either of them completely out of the play, but he forced one to divert. PJ
sidestepped the attempted tackle, leaving only the safety between him and
the goal. That boy was taller than PJ, but he seemed tired. And PJ was
stronger, faster, far more determined! The kid never had a chance! PJ
didn't try to avoid him. Instead, he lowered his shoulder, hit the defender
like a locomotive, spun out of his grasp, and ran across the line into the
end zone, holding the ball up in triumph!

The thrill of his victory crashed over him like a wave. He heard the crowd
roaring!  Suddenly he realized they were chanting his name. "Pee-Jay!
. . . Pee-Jay! . . . Pee-Jay! . . . "He felt as good as he'd ever felt in
his life! It was like taking his snowboard down a long hill, winning the
butterfly in the Junior Olympics, hitting a grand slam. He knelt down
quickly and whispered, "For you, Jack. That was for you!"

His leg was burning, and he was unsure how to get back up, but it didn't
matter. His teammates were there and they were carrying him off the
field. Erik, Brian, and Phil were clustered around him. Suddenly Coach
Lewis was there, pounding him on the shoulders, yelling, "Great run, PJ!
Great run!" Erik was yelling something and making him stand up so the crowd
could see him. "Pee-Jay! . . . Pee-Jay! . . . Pee-Jay . . .!" The chant
went on and on. He saw Billy jumping up and down, hanging onto his father's
arm, waving and going crazy. And there was Carol, jumping up too, smiling
and clapping.

At last the noise began to die down. When play was resumed, Gordonsville
took its time kicking the extra point. They accepted a delay of game
penalty and then missed from the farther distance, but it didn't
matter. The few seconds remaining trickled away during the subsequent
kickoff. Gordonsville had beat Fieldstone, 32-31!

PJ wanted to go shake hands with the other team, but he was never given the
chance. With Brian and Phil on either side, and leaning on Erik's shoulder,
he was about to hobble across the field when he was surrounded by people
who wanted to congratulate him. Randy pushed his way through to get close,
Carol right with him. "Way ta' go!" he yelled, smacking PJ's shoulder
pads. "What a run, kiddo!" He turned to Carol. "I told you he was good!"

The girl's face was alight with excitement. "PJ, you were wonderful!"
Impulsively, she leaned forward to give him a playful but warm kiss on the
cheek.

PJ blushed bright pink, conscious of the envious looks he was getting from
his teammates.

"Is Jack Canon here," she asked. "Did he come to watch you play?"

"Ah-h-h . . . No- -no, PJ stammered. "He couldn't. The playoffs . . . He
cou--ldn't get away."

"Too bad." Carol had to shout so she could be heard over all the
celebrating people around them. "It woulda' been really cool to meet
him. Maybe next time."

Randy was trying to be heard as well. "Now we gotta hope our Varsity and JV
play as well as you guys did!" He raised a fist and yelled, "Beat
Fieldstone! Beat Fieldstone!"

The crowd took it up. "Beat Fieldstone! Beat Fieldstone!" Then everyone
began clapping hands and yelling, "Gordonsville, Gordonsville,
Gordonsville!"

Carol waved once again as she and Randy turned away to leave. PJ watched
them go, wishing he could have introduced Carol to Jack, wishing Jack had
been there to see his run. But at least he'd done something good while
Carol had been there. That was pretty awesome! Maybe Randy was her date,
and maybe he was older and in the Upper School, but he hadn't run for a
touchdown and heard the crowd chanting his name!

Pain in his hip might be giving him fits, but PJ still felt darn proud of
himself.

Teammates, coaches, and kids from his class were crowding around. Billy
wiggled his way past and jumped on him. "PJ, you were great!" He was
looking up, eyes glistening with tears of admiration.

"Hey, all right! Thanks, Billy." PJ laughed and tousled the boy's
hair. "But aren't you forgetting a few guys? Like the guy who was calling
the plays and throwing all those long passes? And the kid who was catching
them, and making tackles and getting interceptions? And the one who was
doing the job on special teams and making nice runbacks?" He indicated the
other three boys. "It's called teamwork."

Billy grinned and said, "You're right, PJ. I forgot. You other guys were
all really great too." He put out his palm and all four boys slapped it.

PJ ruffled Billy's hair again. "And what about the kid who spent hours and
hours helping me practice, and who sat and talked with me and kept me
company when I was hurt? I think he's pretty great, too."

"Yeah, he is!" Erik said. He patted Billy's shoulder. The young boy beamed
at him.

They began to move slowly through the crowd. PJ gave in to his limp, now
that it no longer mattered, and leaned on Erik for support. As they were
passing the end of the stands, Bill came up to them, followed by Billy's
dad and Brian's father. Bill put his arms around PJ's and Erik's shoulders
and hugged them both. "You guys were wonderful, just wonderful." He got
down on one knee and looked at them both. "There's just nothing I can
say. You're both super!  We're all proud of you. What a game! PJ, that last
run of yours was just. . . Look, is that leg still bothering you? What's
going on with that?"

"It's still a little sore," PJ admitted.

Brian's dad had an arm around his son. He held out his hand to PJ and
Erik. "I want to thank you for all you've done for Brian. You both played a
great game. Congratulations."

"We're friends with Brian, because Brian's a good friend to us," Erik told
him as they shook.

"Don't forget Phil," PJ said, looking around for him. "He played good,
too!"

"Right!" Bill said. The slender boy had been watching the others, looking a
little woebegone. Bill picked him up and smiled at him. "I talked to your
dad this week. I'm supposed to give you a message and here it is!" He
hugged Phil and stroked his back. "He told me to tell you that he couldn't
come to this game, but he'll be up for another one later and not to
worry. And he wants you to send him a message or call him as soon as you
can to tell him how you did. You better tell him about that nice runback
you made because I know he's going to want to hear about it!"

Phil was grinning happily as Bill put him back down.

Brian's father took his son and Phil aside to talk with them and Bill
walked away with Erik for a few private words. While PJ and Billy watched
them go, Mr. Thatcher put a hand on PJ's shoulder. "Nice game," he said
quietly. "That leg's pretty bad, isn't it."

PJ looked up at him. "Yeah, it kinda is."

"That's the same one that was bothering you last week, right?"

PJ nodded.

Mr. Thatcher winked at him. "I promised you could ask for a ride anytime,
remember? This time you can ride on my back in style." He bent down so PJ
could take hold of his shoulders and climb on. Billy trotted along beside
them carrying, PJ's helmet while they trudged up the slope of grass toward
the Field House. PJ rested his head on the man's shoulder and relaxed. It
felt good to get the weight off his leg.

"You had a lot to be proud of in that game, PJ," Mr. Thatcher told
him. "Too bad Jack couldn't be here. Are you going to e-mail him?"

PJ replied with a "Yes, Sir."

"You tell him I said he needs to come see you play."

"I will," PJ promised.

Billy and his dad dropped PJ off at the side door that led to the locker
rooms. Mr. Thatcher gave PJ a nudge on the shoulder and smiled at
him. Billy looked up happily to repeat once more, "You did real great
today, PJ!" He turned to look back and wave twice as they walked away.

In the locker room, Coach Lewis had the trainer give another massage to
PJ's hip before making him spend an hour in the whirlpool. While he was
soaking in the hot swirling water, Erik came to him all excited, shouting
to be heard over the noisy pump, "PJ! PJ! Guess what! Coach was checking
around on the phone. Franklyn Prep, Travis' school, lost today! They're not
undefeated anymore! That means we're in a tie for first!"

"Who'd they lose to?" PJ pulled his head up to stare at his roommate.

	"Foxton, the team we play next week!" Erik's eyes glittered in the
training room lights, his expression a mixture of concern and eager
anticipation. "We gotta get that leg of yours fixed, PJ! Next week you need
to be at one-hundred-percent!"

CONCLUSION OF INSTALLMENT THIRTY-SEVEN

Editor Paul K. Scott's e-mail: paulkdoctor@gmailcom

Keep them cards an' letters comin'!