Undercover Tailback (2 page)

“Oh, sure, you know everything, and you always tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,” he said.

Melissa shrugged.

“I know I’m not the one making up stories,” she said.

“Like what?”

“Like telling everyone that Dad played foot
ball for the Florida Gators,” she answered. “Dad didn’t go to college, and you know it. You just picked that team ’cause you
like slimy things like lizards and alligators.”

“So what?” he said. “Dad could’ve been an All-Star if he went to a college with a great team like the Gators. It was just
his rotten luck that he had to go to work right after high school.”

“And what about saying that Mom went to college to become a lawyer? Sure, she was studying law. But she had to give it up
after two years on account of you.”

“Me?”

“You know what I mean … you being born.”

“Yeah, but she probably would have gone back if you didn’t turn up, too!”

“Thanks a lot, Parker,” she said. “You know that’s not true. If Mom really wanted to go back to school, she could have after
Dad died. And who knows, maybe someday she will be a lawyer — if she wants to, and not because you made up some story.”

Melissa had been just seven when Mr. Nolan
died of leukemia. Parker had never really known how she felt about losing her father. He only knew how sad and lonely it made
him feel when he thought about it. In his own way, he had tried to fill in for his father with Melissa. But it was hard sometimes
— especially when his kid sister was so smart.

Still, he was a little surprised that she hadn’t mentioned the bicycle incident. It wasn’t like her to give up a chance to
make him squirm. Was she finally growing up?

Maybe Joni would know. Joni Anderson was his best friend, and she knew Melissa pretty well, too.

The following day, Parker sat down next to Joni in the cafeteria. They had finished their tuna melts and were nibbling on
potato chip crumbs when Joni brought up his favorite subject: reptiles.

“We just got to the chapter on reptiles in our science book,” she said. “I wish I felt the way you do about them.”

“Newts … lizards … even iguanas,” he said. “I love ’em all.”

“Even dinosaurs?” Joni said.

“Yep.” Parker smiled. “Love the big guys, too. Even the medium ones. ’Specially those. Love those Gators!”

Joni laughed. “Are you still talking about reptiles now, or have we switched to football?”

Parker’s dad had been a big fan of the Gators, a college football team. Parker’s smile faded when he remembered the fun they
used to have watching games together.

He quickly recovered. “Guess I just love them both.”

“Okay,” said Joni. “We’ll have gatorburgers for lunch tomorrow.”

Just then, the two wide receivers, Stacy and Cris, walked by, lunch trays in hand.

“Hey, isn’t that Parker Nolan, the famous tailback without a helmet?” asked Cris.

“I don’t know,” answered Stacy. “Let’s see if he has number thirty shaved on the back of his head!”

They broke themselves up laughing as they swaggered by.

“What was that all about?” asked Joni.

“Just a couple of wise guys,” mumbled Parker. “Dumb joke. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Parker!” she insisted. “It has to mean
something
.”

“Oh … I … uh … misplaced my helmet a couple of times. And I really thought it got stolen. But they didn’t believe me.”

“Why not? Things get taken all the time,” she said.

“Oh, they have this thing. They think I make up stories all the time.”

“What? Who do they think they are, the Supreme Court?” she fumed. “I’d like to tell them a thing —”

“Take it easy, Joni,” Parker said. “Things like that don’t bother me. Here, I’ll take your tray back. Just put it on top of
mine.”

Parker seemed cool as a cucumber, but he was annoyed. It seemed like someone was always
on his case about something. He frowned when he remembered the extra laps he had to run before practice that afternoon. The
two trays he was carrying suddenly seemed a lot heavier.

P
arker’s good spirits had returned by that afternoon. The minute his last class was over, he headed for the locker room. After
being chewed out the day before, he was determined to show Coach Isaac what he was really made of.

He was very early. The equipment room was closed, and the window in the door to the coach’s office was dark. Coach Isaac wasn’t
there yet.

But the locker room was open. Parker went in, dumped his books in his locker, and got undressed. He put on a gray T-shirt
and matching sweatpants. They had a dark green K for Kudzus on them. He tugged a gray hooded sweatshirt on top.

He started to do a few torso twists and knee bends. Then he heard voices outside the locker room.

I guess some of the guys are out there, he thought. They’ll probably give me a razzing for getting in trouble with the coach.

But whose voices are those, anyhow? he wondered. Is that Mitch? Moose? Through the wall, it was hard to tell. It could even
have been a bunch of girls heading for gymnastics practice.

But when he stepped outside the locker room, there was no one in sight. Whoever had been there was gone. Then all of a sudden,
someone wearing a gray hooded sweatsuit ducked out of the coach’s office — and quickly bolted around the corner. It happened
so fast, he couldn’t tell who it was. But he did notice one odd thing: whoever it was had a small point-and-shoot camera swinging
from one hand.

Parker frowned. Why would someone be in Coach’s office with a camera? Suspicious, Parker took off after the stranger. But
it was too late. The corridor led to the back exit from the school.
It was already filled with kids milling about on their way home. There was no way to pick out anyone in that crowd.

He went back toward the coach’s office. The window was still dark, but the door was slightly ajar.

Parker pushed the door open, and the light from the hallway spilled into the office.

“Coach? Coach Isaac?” he called softly.

What did he think he was going to find — a dead body behind the desk? Was that why he was whispering?

What a dope! he thought.

There was no body behind the desk. There was nothing unusual at all in the office.

Coach Isaac was one of those neat types, he noticed. Except for the big loose-leaf Kudzu playbook, his desk was clean and
uncluttered.

The master playbook was so fat with all the plays the coach had used over the years that it was hard to keep it lying flat.
The plays were carefully drawn in dark marker, each on a separate page wrapped in a cellophane protector.
A green metal paperweight was holding down one side of the open book.

Parker picked up the paperweight.

It was an alligator! In fact, it was a lot like a model he’d brought in to show his General Science class when they were studying
reptiles.

I wonder if Coach Isaac is a Gators fan, Parker thought. Hey, when he finds out they’re my favorite team, maybe I’ll score
some extra points with him.

Then he came to his senses. The only way I’m going to score any points, he thought, is by getting my butt out there and doing
those laps.

Parker was about to put the gator back on the open playbook when the overhead light went on. He hadn’t even heard anyone come
in.

“What are you doing here, Parker?” demanded Coach Isaac. “And what are you doing with that?” He pointed at the paperweight,
still in Parker’s hand.

“It was really weird, Coach,” said Parker. “I just saw someone go flying out of here. But the
light wasn’t on. So I thought something might be funny. I came in here to check.”

Coach Isaac shook his head. “You really do have a million stories, don’t you!”

“Honest, Coach Isaac,” said Parker. “This guy just came tearing out of here a few minutes ago. He was wearing a gray sweatshirt
like mine, and he had a little camera.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Coach Isaac. “Tell me another. I suppose he was the one who took the master playbook off the shelf and
left it opened up on my desk. Of course, you wouldn’t do that, would you?”

“ ’Course not,” said Parker. “Why should I?”

“Maybe you wrote your moves down wrong in your own playbook,” the coach suggested, “and decided to take a peek at mine to
double-check them. Or maybe you’re going to tell me your book was stolen?”

“Mine’s in my locker, right now,” insisted Parker. “I could go and get it for you. …”

“Never mind.” Coach Isaac sighed. “Parker, what are you doing with my paperweight?”

“I … I found it on top of the playbook,” said Parker. It didn’t seem like the right time to mention his interest in the Gators.

“Well, that’s not where it was when I left this office, I can tell you that,” stormed the coach. “Now, just put it down and
get going. I don’t want to see you in this office again unless I tell you to cross that threshold. Get that?”

“Yes, Coach,” said Parker. He placed the green gator down on the desk with care.

“And what about those laps?” the coach asked. “Think I forgot?”

Parker wasn’t sure, but he thought he caught a small smile at the edges of the coach’s mouth.

“No, siree!” said Parker. “I’m on my way.”

He finished his laps just in time to join that afternoon’s practice.

It didn’t go well for the offense. The defense was too familiar with their plays.

When the runners started fumbling and passes were getting intercepted regularly, Coach Isaac blew the whistle.

He gathered the offense over to one side of the field while the defense took a break.

“I don’t know what’s the matter,” grumbled Spike. “What are we doing wrong?”

“Not a whole lot,” said Coach Isaac. “You’re running the plays the way I drew them up. But you have to remember, these guys
are used to the way we operate.”

“What do you mean?” asked Fabian.

“There’s a routine,” said the coach. “They’ve come to expect that you’re going to do certain things the same way every time.”

“You mean we have to mix it up more?” asked Parker.

“That’s it,” said the coach.

“But we only have so many plays,” said Fabian. “We can’t just make up new ones on the spot.”

“Yeah, we have to stick to our plays,” insisted Cris. “I mean, that’s all we know.”

“I’m not telling you to abandon the plays I’ve taught you,” explained the coach. “You just have
to learn to surprise the opposition. For instance, when was the last time you ran the same play twice in a row?”

His question was answered by shrugs and vacant stares.

“Okay, here’s a little trick you ought to learn right now,” he went on. “When you want to repeat a play right away, all you
do is call the signal backwards.”

“Hey, that’s neat!” said Moose. “That’ll confuse ’em.”

“You can use that when you’re running out of time,” said the coach. “Or you can linger as long as possible in the huddle so
that they’ll be watching for some complicated new play.”

“And then, barn, you hit them with the one you just ran,” said Huey. “Not bad!”

They lined up for some more practice. The defense was still hitting hard. Spike called a draw play that produced a ten-yard
loss with Parker at the bottom of a big pileup.

“That’s a good play,” Spike announced in the
huddle. “We should have picked up some yardage. Let’s go with it again.”

At the line, he barked out the signals — backward, the way the coach had said.

As soon as the play began, Parker could tell the defense was unprepared for what was happening.

This time, as soon as the ball hit his hands, he broke away and carried it into the clear beyond any defenseman’s reach.

It was his happiest moment of the day.

That evening, the scene in the coach’s office kept coming back to Parker. He was sure the stranger in the gray sweatshirt
had been carrying a camera, but what had he been doing in Coach Isaac’s office with all the lights off? Parker tried to study
his math, but he ended up doing more doodling than calculating.

He couldn’t sit still. Melissa had finished her homework and was looking at a magazine.

Parker sighed and picked up the deck of cards. “Come on, let’s play another game of War.”

“No, I don’t feel like it,” said Melissa.

“Want to watch TV?” he asked.

“There’s nothing on,” she said, staring at the magazine.

“You still mad?” he said. “About the bike?”

“No,” she replied.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not!”

“What are you mad about?” he asked.

“Nothing, nothing, nothing!” she insisted. “What’s bothering you, anyhow?”

“Why should I tell you? You’ll just tell me I’m making things up, like everyone else,” he said.

“I’m your sister, Parker,” she said. “
I
can tell the difference. Besides …”

“Besides what?”

“Besides, if you’re really in trouble, you know I’m on your side.”

“It’s not like that,” he explained. “Well, here’s what happened
today.
”

He began his story with the mysterious person
in the sweatshirt and ended it in the coach’s office.