Lucy on the Ball (6 page)

The score was the same as the game against the Rockets—2 to 1. Wasps win.

Coach Morris gave the team a talking-to. He told the Beagles everything they had done wrong. It took him a while to finish.

“We’re going to practice harder next week. And I want you to practice at home. That’s the only way this team is going to become winners,” Coach Morris told them.

During the week, Bobby tried to forget about soccer. On Wednesday, he missed midweek practice. He was home sick with a sore throat. He stayed home from school on
Thursday, too. By Friday he was fine. He was glad to go back to school. He didn’t want to miss art class. He wanted to show Miss Olson, the art teacher, his picture of Planet Man.

Miss Olson told the children they should draw their picture in pencil first. Then they could go on to markers or paint.

Bobby was very glad to be working in pencil. He needed to do a lot of erasing. His picture was of Planet Man on a horse, chasing two men who were dumping garbage in a river. Drawing Planet Man was easy. Drawing the horse was hard. The horse looked as if it had a mattress for a body and sticks for legs.

“I’m going to keep working on my horse,” he told Miss Olson when he showed her the sketch.

“Yes, the horse needs work,” Miss Olson agreed. “Everything else is very good. Take some horse books out of the library. Trace the horses on paper. Then practice drawing your own horses.”

“I’ll do that,” Bobby said. He was eager to get started.

On Saturday, Bobby and his parents went
to the park early with Lucy for her obedience lesson. Today, Lucy’s lesson had been changed to before soccer practice. Lucy seemed eager to get started. That surprised Bobby.

“Lucy likes her training,” Bobby whispered to his father.

Coach Morris heard him. “She feels comfortable. You must be practicing with her.”

“We are,” Mrs. Quinn agreed. “Lucy seems to understand that we’re the ones in charge.”

“And she’s a happier dog for it, isn’t she?” the coach asked.

Bobby had to admit it was true. Lucy didn’t fuss as much as she used to. She wasn’t bored, because they kept her busy. She seemed much calmer. That meant fewer chewed socks and shoes. Not so much howling.

“I think Lucy will need only a few more lessons,” Coach Morris said. “She’s got the idea now.”

“Lucy!” Mrs. Quinn said. “Good for you!”

Mr. Quinn patted Lucy on the head.

Lucy stood tall, her tail up. She seemed to know she was a good student.

“Good for all of you,” Coach Morris said. “This is what happens when you work hard as a team.”

Coach Morris seemed to be looking right at Bobby. And he seemed to be talking about more than Lucy.

After Lucy’s lesson, it was time for the Beagles’ practice session.
Maybe the coach is right
, Bobby thought.
Maybe I should work more at soccer
. During practice, he paid attention to the coach’s directions. He tried harder to kick the ball, and he did manage
to kick it a few times. Even when Coach Morris made him practice as goalie, Bobby gave it his best effort.

Coach Morris noticed. “You’re trying, Bobby.”

“Thanks,” Bobby replied. He didn’t think he was getting much better. But at least he was giving it his best shot.

Sunday morning, Bobby woke up to the sound of rain, a hard, driving rain beating against the window. There was a sharp clap of thunder. Lucy jumped up on Bobby’s bed.

“Don’t be scared,” Bobby said, giving Lucy a hug. He didn’t like thunder, either, but he wanted to show Lucy he was brave.

The rain had lightened a little by the time Bobby came downstairs for breakfast. His father was making what he called “the best oatmeal ever!”

Every time Mr. Quinn said that, Bobby replied, “There’s no such thing as the best oatmeal because all oatmeal is bad.”

“Nonsense, Bobby,” Mr. Quinn said, putting a steaming bowl in front of him. “Oatmeal is good and good for you.”

Bobby looked down at his oatmeal. Maybe it wasn’t his favorite food, but at least his father loaded it up with brown sugar and berries.

“Where’s Mom?” Bobby asked.

“She went to get a few things at the store,” Mr. Quinn told him.

Just then, Mrs. Quinn hurried in from outside. She shook off a few drops. “It’s still raining,” she said.

Bobby looked out the window. It was dark, and wet, and chilly. The last thing he wanted to do was play soccer this afternoon.

After breakfast, his father started a fire in the fireplace. Bobby gathered the horse books he had taken from the library and a pad and pencil. Then he flopped down on the floor. Lucy flopped next to him. Bobby looked at horse pictures and started to draw. He looked a little more. He drew a little more.

He must have drawn for a long time.

“Bobby,” his mother said from the doorway, “it’s time to get ready for soccer.”

Bobby barely looked up. “Oh, I’m not going today.”

His mother frowned. “What do you mean? Are you feeling sick again?”

Bobby sat up. “No, I’m fine.”

“Then why do you think you’re not going?” Mrs. Quinn asked.

“I want to stay home. I need to finish my
drawing of Planet Man.” Bobby held up his latest sketch.

Mr. Quinn came into the room.

“Bobby doesn’t want to go to soccer,” Mrs. Quinn informed him. “He wants to stay home and draw.”

Bobby’s parents were both frowning.

“Anyway, it’s raining out,” Bobby explained. “And it’s cold.” He didn’t see what was wrong with skipping the game.

“Bobby,” his father began, “you can’t miss a game just because there’s something else you would rather do.”

“Why not?” Bobby asked, surprised.

“When you joined the team, you made a commitment,” Mrs. Quinn said. “Do you know what a commitment is?”

“Not exactly,” Bobby answered.

“It’s like a promise,” his mother told him.
“You agreed to be a team member and be there for the games.”

Now it was Bobby’s turn to frown. “They don’t need me. I’m not that good.”

“You’re getting better,” Mr. Quinn said. “The coach said so at practice.”

“Besides,” Mrs. Quinn said, “what if two, or three, or four kids on the team decided they didn’t want to play because it’s raining?”

Bobby thought about it for a moment. “I guess we would have to forfeit the game.”

“That’s right,” Mr. Quinn said. “You’re on a team. You have to do what’s best for the team. You can’t just think of yourself.”

Bobby would have liked to think only about himself. Then he could stay in his nice warm house, drawing. But he was a Beagle. The team was even named after his dog.

“I’ll get ready,” Bobby said.

Lucy had been sitting quietly. Now she gave a big, long stretch. She looked around. Bobby knew what that meant. She wanted to go for a walk.

Bobby added, “Can we take Lucy to the game today? She could use the exercise.”

Mrs. Quinn smiled. “That’s a good idea. We can test out her training. If she gets antsy, Dad can walk around the park with her.” She added, “I’m proud of you, Bobby. Now you’re thinking about the team
and
Lucy.”

By the time they got to the soccer field, it had stopped raining. It was still cold. Bobby had to wear a sweater under his jersey. It felt bulky and uncomfortable, but he was warm.

Coach Morris blew his whistle. The Beagles gathered around him.

“Team, I like what I’ve been seeing at practice. I think we’re going to do well today.
The team we’re playing is the Wizards, but
we’re
the ones who are going to make magic.”

Then the coach assigned the positions. “Bobby Quinn. Goalkeeper.”

Bobby had never started a game as the goalie. He wondered if this meant he was going to have to play the position for both halves. He looked at the sidelines. Lucy was running in small circles. That was the way his stomach felt.

After the coin toss, Bobby took his position in front of the goal line. He waited and watched.

“Keep your eye on the ball!” his father yelled.

He would try.

For the first few minutes of the game, all the action was on the other side of the field. The Beagles were trying to score. No one
could quite kick it in. Then, suddenly, a foot got on the ball. It made a short, hard kick. Goal for the Beagles!

There were so many kids huddled near the goal, Bobby couldn’t quite see who had made the kick. Was it Dexter? Shawn? Then he saw Candy jumping up and down. Candy had scored!

This made Bobby feel good. He was happy for Candy. He also knew that Candy wasn’t a very good player. If she could make a goal, maybe he could stop one.

His chance came later in the half. One of the Wizards, a big, stocky boy, was pushing the ball down the field. None of the Beagles could get the ball away from him. The Wizard kept the ball moving. Then he gave it a big kick. Bobby could see the ball coming right at him.

Uh-oh!

The ball was flying through the air. It was high enough to swat with his hands. Could he do it? Bobby forgot he was nervous. He stepped toward the ball and hit it hard.

The ball fell back onto the field. Bobby had stopped it. No goal for the Wizards this time!

Bobby was breathing hard. He looked over at the sidelines. His parents were clapping. Lucy was barking. Even Coach Morris was smiling.

Bobby smiled, too. He had paid attention. He had tried his best. He had stopped the Wizards in their tracks!

Wow
, Bobby thought.
Maybe soccer is fun after all
.

Three Beagles

S
hawn and Bobby got off the school bus.

“We don’t have any homework today,” Shawn said. “Let’s do something before dinner.”

“Soccer?” Bobby asked. “You could kick, and I could practice being goalkeeper.”

“I was thinking we could work on Planet Man and the Worm,” Shawn said.

Both boys started to laugh.

“This is a switch,” Bobby said.

“It sure is,” agreed Shawn. “Maybe we can play a little
and
draw a little.”

Bobby nodded. “Come over as soon as you can.”

A happy Bobby opened the door to his house. But when he saw who was sitting on the couch, he felt odd. It was the Baby Lady. Did this mean the baby had arrived?

“We have a visitor,” Mrs. Quinn said.

Bobby came into the living room. He noticed that Lucy was quietly stretched out next to the coffee table. “Hello,” he whispered.

“You remember Mrs. Brady?” his mother asked.

He nodded.
So that’s her name
, Bobby thought. Then he looked around. “Where is he?” he asked.

Mrs. Quinn looked puzzled.

“Or she,” Bobby added.

Mrs. Brady laughed. “He means the baby.”

Now it was Mrs. Quinn’s turn to smile. “Oh, Mrs. Brady is just here for another visit. It will still be a while before we get a baby.”

Bobby wasn’t sure if he felt glad or sad about that. He was looking forward to a brother or sister. But maybe not quite yet.

“Come sit down, Bobby,” Mrs. Quinn said.

Bobby sat in the big red chair. As soon as Lucy saw that, she jumped up on the chair with him. But she didn’t do it in a wild way. She didn’t bark or howl. She neatly hopped up and snuggled beside Bobby.