Falling Star Page 3

  He stood with his head down and his eyes fixed on the grass, envisaging the game with Centreville so he didn’t see Linh-Mai and Toby cautiously approach. He started when Linh-Mai said, “Are you all right?” and Toby asked, “Are you saying your prayers?”

  “I’m envisaging and focusing.”

  “You’re what?”

  “Thinking about the game,” said Edison. “We used to do it at my old school.”

  “Did it do any good?” asked Toby.

  “It seemed to help.”

  “Can we do it?” said Linh-Mai.

  “What do we have to do?” asked Toby.

  “You stand in a circle and close your eyes, and you think about tackling and scoring and winning and stuff.”

  They stood in a circle with their arms around one another’s shoulders and their eyes closed.

  After a few seconds Toby said, “What do you think we’ll have for supper?”

  Linh-Mai said, “Focus!”

  Shay and Julie wandered across.

  “Are you having a séance?” Julie asked.

  “We’re focusing,” said Toby.

  “And envisaging,” Linh-Mai added.

  “Wanna try it?” said Toby.

  Shay and Julie joined the circle.

  The referee arrived on the pitch and the teams gathered around their coaches.

  Mr. Field said, “Centreville doesn’t get many goals, but doesn’t let in many, either. We have to stop them scoring, because if they do score, they’ll pack their defence and it’ll be tough breaking them down. So we’ll concentrate on defence, and go with only one striker. That’ll be you, Steve, in the first half. You can run yourself into the ground trying to score, because Edison will take over from you after the break and do the same thing. Apart from that …” he waved his hand in the direction of the field. “… just go play. Do your best — but don’t forget it’s just a game.”

  Edison remembered other coaches saying that. The difference with Mr. Field was that he really seemed to mean it.

  The teams lined up to shake hands, Brunswick Valley in all blue, Centreville in green and yellow. Edison was beside Linh-Mai in the line. She’d tied a red strap around her head to hold her glasses in place. As she shook hands with a small red-haired girl with freckles, she confided to her in a shaky voice, “I’m some nervous.”

  The girl smiled and said, “Me, too.”

  Edison thought, Loser talk. His coaches had always told him you couldn’t afford loser talk.

  But what was worse? Loser talk, or being afraid of screwing up?

  Edison took his place on the bench and surveyed the Centreville lineup. Like Brunswick Valley, they seemed to be playing with only one striker, a tall gawky boy with thin legs and bony knees. Edison guessed heading the ball would be his specialty. The centre half, whose name was Lily — he’d heard her teammates calling her — was tall too, but rugged.

  He turned his attention to his own team. Shay stood calmly at midfield. Julie, beside him, jogged on the spot as if she couldn’t wait for the game to start. Behind them, Toby leaned against one of Amy’s goalposts, occasionally nodding as she talked, while Linh-Mai stood nearby chewing her fingernails. Edison wanted to run across and tell her she had to relax in order to play well. In the centre of the field, Steve stood with one foot on the ball and his arms folded. Edison could see the arrogant confidence of a striker in the way he coolly surveyed his opponents, and in his relaxed stance. Edison wished he could get back that confidence.

  The referee whistled for the kickoff. Steve tapped the ball to Jillian and raced toward the Centreville goal. Jillian returned the ball, which Steve collected just in front of Lily. She moved to tackle him but he turned and backed into her, keeping the ball close to his feet. She loomed over him, her arms almost around him and her knees bumping against the backs of his legs, unbalancing him. Edison saw Steve’s eyes roving, looking for support. The twins were on the wings, too far away to pass to. Brandon was running to help, but the tall centre forward, towering above him, was hard on his heels. Suddenly Steve was flat on his back and the ball spun away toward Brandon, who managed to poke it on to Jessica before the centre forward crashed into him, tumbling him to the ground. Jessica took the ball past one defender and centred it, but no one was there to take advantage of the cross. The Centreville goalkeeper caught the ball and rolled it out to Lily, who sent it over Shay and Julie for the home striker to receive on his head. The striker kept the ball in the air by repeatedly heading it, all the time moving toward the Brunswick Valley goal. It was some trick. As he neared the goal, with Toby moving cautiously to bar his way, and Steve racing at him from behind, he headed a weak shot, which Amy caught easily.

  Edison wondered whether his teammates realized how dangerous the tall striker’s heading skill made him. If he kept control of the ball as he headed it and moved toward the goal, there wasn’t much Linh-Mai and Toby, his markers, could do about it. They couldn’t tackle, because the ball was on his head, not at his feet. All they could do was stand in his way, but then they’d risk committing a foul, which could mean he would get a penalty kick. On the other hand, if they didn’t bar his way, the centre forward had a clear path to goal.

  As the first half wore on, Edison began to understand how Centreville had enjoyed such a successful season. Mr. Field’s assessment had been right. Their attack wasn’t much, consisting of lobbing the ball to the tall striker whenever he got near Amy’s goal, but their defence was solid. If Brunswick Valley advanced beyond the halfway line, at least two home defenders immediately surrounded whoever had the ball, stifling movement and making it almost impossible to pass. On the rare occasions when Steve managed to get away from Lily and find some space, there was the lanky striker, helping his defence and hanging over him like an overfriendly giraffe.

  Edison realized it wasn’t just Centreville’s suffocating defence that was stifling every Brunswick Valley attack. It was more like his teammates were stifling themselves. He thought of how they’d played in the girls-against-boys scrimmage back at the school. Although that was fooling around rather than proper soccer, they’d run with the ball, had created space for themselves with constant movement, and had harried whoever had the ball. Now the only player who seemed to be doing that was Steve, who raced from one end of the pitch to the other, helping his defence one minute, attacking the Centreville goal the next. His method of attack was simple. He kicked the ball ahead and ran after it, relying on speed to get to it ahead of his opponents, or strength to hustle them off it if they got there first.

  Late in the first half, Steve passed to Shay from near his own goal. Shay kept possession while Steve ran past him into an attacking position. With two Centreville defenders closing in, Shay passed between them to Steve, who found himself with only Lily between himself and the goalkeeper. He moved right, then left, then right again, as he approached her. Lily moved with him, but stumbled at the third change of direction.

  Edison thought, She’s tiring.

  Steve prodded the ball farther to the right to take it wide of Lily, but she stumbled into his path, knocking him over. By the time the referee awarded a free kick, the Centreville players were standing in a line between Steve and the goal, and the ball bounced harmlessly off them.

  At halftime Steve pleaded with Mr. Field, “Let me stay on. Lily’s getting tired and I can get past her now.”

  “You’ve done a great job wearing her down, but you’re tiring too,” said Mr. Field. “We’ll stick with our plan of putting Edison on for the second half.”

  Steve flung himself on the bench, grumbling, “I would have scored.”

  When the teams lined up for the second half, Lily fixed her eyes on Edison. He tried to stare back, but she outlasted him and he looked away. Her thick legs and broad shoulders suggested he would come off second-best if they went for the ball at th
e same time, but he thought he had the speed to get past her. He read her expression as she stared — the pouty curl of her lip, the narrowed eyes — understanding it was meant to intimidate him. Normally it wouldn’t have bothered him, because being good didn’t just make him a star. It made him a target, as well. But with his nerves already on edge with the worry that he would choke again, he could feel Lily’s taunting stare unsettling him more and more.

  His first clash with her came ten minutes later when Brunswick Valley broke out of defence for the first time since the break. Edison was in midfield when Linh-Mai passed to him. As he trapped the ball, Lily rushed at him. He rolled it back onto his foot and flipped it over her head before running past her, skipping over her wildly flailing leg. Before he could collect the ball and continue upfield, she turned and tripped him. Under the guise of helping him up, she pinched his arm, muttering, “Think you’re smart, don’t you?”

  Shay took a throw-in to Edison, who knew Lily was close behind. Edison trapped Shay’s throw and backed into Lily, shielding the ball as she poked her shoe at it. He waited until her foot was stretching for the ball again, then rolled it backward through her legs, spinning around her at the same time. He collected the ball behind her as two more defenders closed in on him. Without looking up, he fired the ball over them at the Centreville goal. It was a long shot — so far out that no one would expect him to shoot from there, let alone score — but Edison knew those shots unsettled the goalkeeper and defence, making them nervous whenever he had the ball. And nervous defenders made mistakes. The keeper watched without moving as the ball seemed as if it would fly high across the goalmouth until, at the last second, it curled toward the net and hit the post.

  Edison was feeling more confident by the minute. The choking incidents had surely been just a phase, and were in the past now.

  But a few minutes later the anxiety was back.

  Toby cleared the ball and Edison, running out of defence, reached it just before one of the Centreville backs. He looked for someone to pass to, but with his teammates still not running and chasing the way he’d seen them at practice, he found himself without support. He passed two defenders before looking up. Only Lily was in his way. If he got past her, it would be an easy goal, with only the keeper to beat. He could dribble past Lily, or simply use his speed and take the ball around her, or …

  He hesitated for only a fraction of a second, but she was on him with surprising speed. Her shoulder crashed into his chest, knocking him over as she took the ball and passed to one of her midfielders to start another Centreville attack.

  As Edison picked himself up, he caught a glimpse of Steve on the bench, shaking his head scornfully. He didn’t blame Steve. Edison knew he should have scored.

  Another ten minutes passed before Brunswick Valley managed to attack again. This time Julie scrambled the ball out of the goal area to Shay, who kept possession while Edison ran upfield. Shay looped the ball high over the two defenders who were marking Edison. As they watched the ball, Edison slipped away from them. He gauged where the ball would fall and caught it on his foot. Something — someone — loomed beside him. From the corner of his eye he saw it was Lily. Without thinking he flipped the ball over her, at the same time jumping clear of her lunge at him. She stumbled past him and fell, leaving Edison with an open goal except for the keeper, who slipped and fell as he raced forward to cut down Edison’s shooting angle.

  From the bench, Steve shouted, “Chip it over him!”

  The goalkeeper scrambled to his feet and backpedalled frantically toward the net.

  Steve shouted again, “Chip it over him!”

  Edison considered chipping the ball. If he didn’t kick it hard enough, it would land in the goalkeeper’s arms, making Edison look foolish. On the other hand, if he kicked it too hard, it would sail over the crossbar, making Edison look like a complete idiot for missing an open goal.

  Steve screamed, “Kick the freakin’ ball!”

  Something slammed into Edison’s back and he crashed to the ground on his face. Lily stepped over him and poked the ball back to the goalkeeper, who sent it high into Brunswick Valley’s end of the pitch.

  Centreville’s goal, when it came late in the game, caught Edison by surprise. It caught his teammates, and even Centreville, by surprise too. Only a few minutes were left to play, and it seemed the game was at a goalless stalemate. The defences had prevailed throughout, and neither side had come close to scoring, apart from Edison’s two missed chances.

  He watched as a mighty kick by Lily sent the ball from the Centreville goal area toward the Brunswick Valley end, high over the heads of all the defenders except Toby and Linh-Mai. The Centreville striker met the ball with his forehead, sending it back into the air over Toby and Linh-Mai. The striker ran between them and headed the ball on again. Amy rushed from her goalmouth and jumped for it, but couldn’t reach it before he headed it one more time — over her outstretched arms and into the net.

  The referee whistled for the end of the game.

  Mr. Field greeted his team with, “Hard luck,” and, “Well played” as they left the field. He said quietly to Edison, “You played a good game. Don’t get uptight about pulling out of that shot. Things like that happen.”

  Edison mumbled, “Thanks,” at the same time thinking, But things like that don’t happen to me. Or they never used to. And don’t get uptight about it? Right — like Mr. Field knew what it was like to screw up in front of crowds of people.

  Edison and his teammates boarded the van in gloomy silence.

  6

  The Dorchester All Stars

  They were still silent as Mr. Grease drove out of Centreville, heading north.

  Suddenly Julie burst out, “We were pathetic.”

  “We were just unlucky,” Shay protested.

  “Like heck, we were unlucky,” said Steve. He looked across Linh-Mai at Edison. “You should have scored at least once.”

  Edison had been gazing out the window at a bleak landscape of clearcut forest. He started. “Me?”

  “Of course, you.”

  Linh-Mai, tense and wide-eyed, looked from Steve to Edison.

  “That’s not fair,” said Shay. “Edison played a good game. He got round Lily lots of times …”

  “Only because I wore her down in the first half.”

  “… And he did that great long shot that hit the bar.”

  “And he missed an open goal.” Steve glared at Edison. “All you had to do was kick the ball over the keeper.”

  “Anyone can miss an open goal,” Linh-Mai broke in. “Everything always happens so fast.”

  Steve snorted. “I would have scored.”

  Edison was sure Steve would have scored, as surely as he himself would have scored a few weeks ago, before the choking started. It was nice of Linh-Mai to say anyone could miss an open goal, but it had never happened to him before, and he knew if it continued he was finished as a striker.

  He couldn’t think of anything to say, except, “Sorry.”

  “That really helps,” Steve scoffed.

  Edison knew that if he was in Steve’s place, he’d be upset too. If he was the team’s best goal scorer, and he was left on the bench because there was a new striker, and he could only watch as his replacement lost the game … Yes, he’d be upset. But he found himself muttering, “Give it a rest.”

  Steve’s voice rose. “Who are you telling to give it a rest?”

  Julie turned around in her seat. “Leave it, Steve — all right?”

  Shay added, “We didn’t lose because of Edison, Steve. You know that.”

  Jillian called from the back, “We lost because we sucked — all of us.”

  “We sucked big time,” Jessica put in.

  Julie slumped back in her seat. “We’re useless.”

  M
r. Field turned around from the front and ordered, “That’s enough!” He told Mr. Grease, “Let’s find somewhere to pull off the highway.”

  Mr. Grease turned sharply into a woods road and stopped.

  Mr. Field said, “Everybody out.”

  Steve jumped out and stood with his arms folded and his back to everyone. Matthew, Jason, and Brandon walked slowly to the side of the dirt road with their heads down, their shoulders slumped, and their hands pushed deep into their pockets. Toby, Amy, and the twins stood in a silent huddle. Linh-Mai, Shay, and Julie joined them, and Julie muttered, “We may as well give up and go home now.”

  Edison wandered up the road and stood by himself.

  Linh-Mai followed. “Don’t mind Steve. He gets mad easily. He always goes on a rant when we lose. It’s just the way he is.”

  “But he’s right.”

  Toby, joining them, asked, “Right about what?”

  “He’s right that I should have scored. I lost the game for you. Sorry.”

  Toby punched him lightly on the shoulder. “If I said sorry every time I screwed up, I’d never stop talking.”

  He ambled back toward the van as Mr. Field called, “Someone get a ball. We’re playing soccer — girls and Mr. Grease and me against the boys.”

  “I don’t feel like playing,” said Julie.

  “Me neither,” said Steve.

  Mr. Field ignored them. He was already pacing out a length on the woods road and improvising goals with fallen branches. He started kicking the ball around with Mr. Grease. Amy, the twins, and Toby joined in. Amy miskicked the ball and it rolled toward Linh-Mai and Edison. Linh-Mai dribbled it back to the group.

  “I guess you’re on your own, Toby,” said Mr. Field. “You’re the only boy playing, so it’s Julie, Linh-Mai, Jillian, Jessica, Amy, Mr. Grease, and me against you.”

  “You don’t stand a chance,” said Toby.

  Julie, Amy, and Linh-Mai stood on one side of him, and the twins on the other, passing the ball backward and forward while he tried to intercept. When Linh-Mai charged past Toby and headed for the boys’ goal, Matthew, Brandon, and Jason ran to stop her. She passed to Jessica, but Shay ran from the side of the road and took the ball. Julie, following hard on his heels, pushed him into the muddy ditch beside the road. While Matthew and Brandon pulled him out, the girls waltzed the ball easily past Toby and into the goal.