The Comeback Challenge Read online

  The Panthers’ goalie stepped out of the goal, readying himself to catch the ball. And that’s when Mark the Scorpion struck.

  He gave a mighty sideways leap and headed the ball right over the goalie’s outstretched arms. Unable to stop himself from falling, he struck the ground hard and felt the breath knocked right out of him.

  But the cheers from the stands made him forget his pain. He didn’t even need to look at the score-board to know that the play had succeeded.

  Within seconds of the ref blowing the whistle that ended the game, a sea of fans poured onto the field and completely surrounded the Scorpions. Mark looked up from where he lay to see Vince holding out a hand to help him up.

  Just then, Grandma and Grandpa Conway gingerly made their way over to him.

  “That was the most exciting play I’ve ever seen!” said Grandma Conway, rubbing her mittened hand behind his neck as she drew him close. Grandpa Conway clapped him on the back and kept repeating, “Wonderful! Wonderful!”

  Mark tried to free himself to find Vince in the crowd to offer his congratulations and thanks. But the right wing was nowhere in sight.

  The following Monday, Coach Ryan held a meeting of the Scorpions during their regular practice time.

  “All right, guys, settle down,” he said. “We have a few things to do to wind up the season. First, it’s the tradition here at Knightstown Middle School to elect next year’s captain at the close of the previous season. This should be someone who is willing to take on the job and has shown leadership abilities out on the field. Okay, the floor is open for nominations.”

  Charlie Burns’s hand shot up. “I nominate Vince Loman.”

  “Does anyone second the nomination?”

  Stu Watts seconded.

  “Any other nominations?”

  Craig spoke up: “I nominate Mark Conway.”

  “I second Mark,” Mel added.

  Mark was pleased to be nominated, but he was a little concerned, too. He’d taken it for granted that Vince would get the job again. If Mark was elected, would that put an end to their truce?

  “Well, since there don’t appear to be any other nominations, let’s vote. Unless the nominees would like to say a few words first?”

  Vince shook his head.

  “Mark?” asked the coach.

  Mark was about to shake his head, too. But something got into him and he changed his mind.

  “I’m happy just to be a member of the team,” he said. “But if I can help out by being the captain, I’d be proud to do it.”

  “All right, then,” said the coach. He handed out little slips of paper to each player.

  For a moment, everyone was busy writing down a name. Then the coach collected them in his cap.

  Mark looked up, expected the coach to figure out the tally right then and there. But he didn’t.

  “It’s also a tradition here to announce the captain at the awards banquet being held this Saturday night. So Vince, Mark, you’ll just have to sit tight until then!”

  The boys all laughed at Mark’s surprised look. Mark wondered if Vince was as uncomfortable about hearing the winner in such a public way as he was. But traditions were traditions, after all.

  14

  Craig and Mark were seated in the backseat of the Crandalls’ station wagon. Mr. and Mrs. Crandall were driving them to the Scorpions’ awards banquet. Both boys were dressed up in their best clothes.

  “Stop messing around with those neckties,” Mrs. Crandall said over her shoulder. “You both look very nice, so just leave things that way.”

  “How are your grandparents getting to the banquet?” asked Craig.

  “My dad’s picking them up,” said Mark. After a moment, he added, “My mom’s going to be there, too. She’s sitting with Evan’s parents.”

  “Cool,” said Craig. And that was that. No probing questions about the situation. Craig just accepted it for what it was.

  Which is what I’m slowly learning to do, Mark thought.

  Craig elbowed him. “Got your acceptance speech all written?” he asked with a grin.

  “Cut it out,” Mark said, blushing.

  “Why? You’re the best person on the team to be captain, and everyone knows it. Announcing it at the banquet is just a formality.”

  Mark wasn’t so sure. “I don’t know. Vince is a terrific player. And besides, he’s grown up with you guys. I hear that he was always the leader, even in kindergarten.”

  But Craig just said, “We’ll see,” and left it at that.

  When the car stopped, the boys hopped out and ran off to join their pals.

  The Knightstown Middle School gymnasium was all decked out with scarlet and gray streamers. Hanging from the ceiling was a big banner that spelled out, KNIGHTSTOWN SCORPIONS — CHAMPIONSHIP TEAM.

  A few tables near the stage had signs on them that read, RESERVED FOR TEAM. Mark and Craig scrambled to get good seats so that they could watch the presentations after dinner. They were joined by Stu, Eddie, Mel, Willie, and Charlie. The rest of the tables filled just as quickly.

  “Yuck, I hate those squishy grapes they put in these things,” said Craig, pointing to the fruit cup in front of him.

  “Give it to Charlie,” advised Mel. “He’ll swallow anything that doesn’t move.”

  The guys all laughed and began to eat their dinners. After they had finished off three baskets of rolls, their chicken, mashed potatoes, peas, and the apple pie with vanilla ice cream, they were ready for the awards.

  The coach got up on stage and stood in front of the microphone.

  “I want to thank everyone for coming here tonight to honor a great bunch of athletes. Every one of them deserves an award for just getting out there and doing his best. I’m proud of them and hope you will all join me in a round of applause for the Knightstown Middle School Scorpions.”

  Everyone in the gym applauded, long and loud. The members of the team tried not to look dumb, but they couldn’t help smiling at one another.

  Then the coach called them up on stage, one by one, to receive their team letters. They were big scarlet-and-gray K’s. Printed over each one was a cartoon scorpion on top of a black-and-white soccer ball.

  “Next,” Coach Ryan said, “I’d like to present the award for Most Improved Performance. This award goes to a returning player who has shown the most improvement from the previous year. And this year, the award goes to … Charlie Burns!”

  Charlie climbed the stairs to the stage and took a package from the coach. He stepped to the microphone and mumbled, “Uh, thanks. I — I — I’ll keep trying.”

  When he got back to the table, the guys made him open the package. Inside was a video of that year’s World Cup finals.

  “Wow! It sure pays to get better!” exclaimed Craig.

  “Something to go for next year,” agreed Mark.

  On stage, the coach held up a silver trophy cup. “This award,” he said, “belongs to the team’s Most Valuable Player. That player’s name will be added to the others inscribed on the trophy’s base. Then the trophy will be placed back in the case at the entrance of the school, where all can see it. This year, the award goes to …”

  He paused and looked down at the tables filled with members of the team. Craig nudged Mark’s knee and gave his pal a knowing look. But Mark just shook his head.

  “Vince Loman!”

  The gymnasium exploded in applause. Everyone got up to cheer as Vince accepted his award. Finally the coach asked people to please sit down. Then he pointed at the microphone and nodded to Vince.

  Mark expected Vince to be as brief as Charlie. But instead, Vince took a piece of paper from his shirt pocket and stared at it a moment. Then he started to speak.

  “I want to thank Coach Ryan and all the Scorpions. Without all of you, I wouldn’t have been such a good player this year. It was an honor to be your captain and to be chosen as MVP.”

  There, that was a nice speech, Mark thought. Whoever would have figured that Vince could
speak like that?

  But Vince hadn’t finished.

  “As many of you probably know, I won this award last year, too. But I have to tell you, it wasn’t so tough then. This time, I worked much harder than I ever did before out there on the field. This time, I really feel like I earned the award. You see, someone at dinner here tonight — someone on the team, that is — pushed me to be the best player I could be. I’m not even sure he knows it, but it made a real difference. In fact,” Vince continued, glancing briefly at Coach Ryan, “it seems that player made a real impression on most all of us. Because he’s the one we elected to be our captain next year. Heck, I even voted for him myself — and I was one of the nominees! Mark Conway, congratulations!”

  This time, the applause was deafening. Mark just sat there, stunned as much by what Vince had said as he was by the way his election had been announced. Then he broke into a large grin.

  When the noise died down, Coach Ryan said, “I want to thank everyone for coming here tonight and for your support all season. Now, drive carefully and we’ll see you all next year!”

  As the banquet broke up, people came by to congratulate Mark, Vince, and Charlie. Mark spied his grandparents and parents standing by the doorway. But before he slipped away to join them, he turned to Vince.

  “Congratulations, Mr. MVP!” he said, stretching out his hand.

  Vince took it immediately and shook it. “And to you, too, Captain,” he said with a smile.

  “That was really nice, what you said up there,” Mark said.

  “I meant it,” Vince replied. “You really did push me, and it was good for me. And you are the best man for the captain’s job because you’re always thinking about the good of the team. I — I think I lost sight of that for a while.”

  Mark didn’t say anything. But he knew that he was already looking forward to the next season, when he and Vince would really be playing on the same team.

  He caught up to his family a moment later. They all congratulated him warmly. Then his mother turned to his father and said, “So next Tuesday, then?”

  His father nodded curtly. His mother bent down, gave Mark a quick kiss and a hug, then said she had to be on her way.

  Mr. Conway left to find the car to take Grandma, Grandpa, and Mark back home.

  “What’s next Tuesday?” Mark asked while he was gone.

  His grandparents exchanged glances. Grandma Conway sighed and said, “Next Tuesday is the day you have to meet with the judge. She wants to talk with you about your parents’ divorce.”

  15

  Your father wanted to pick you up,” Mark’s grandfather said Tuesday morning. “But your grandmother and I are going to the courthouse anyway, so you might as well ride there with us.”

  Mark didn’t say anything. In fact, ever since the ride home from the banquet, he hadn’t felt much like talking.

  In the car, he sat up front with his grandfather. Once again, he was dressed in his best clothes.

  Mark had never been inside the Knightstown courthouse before. It was a really old building. If it weren’t for his parents fighting over who he was to live with and for how long, he might have found it interesting, he supposed. It had marble floors and shiny oak walls. The whole place smelled as though it had just been polished.

  But all he wanted was to get things over with so he could get out of there.

  His mother and father each gave him a hug and a kiss when he saw them. Then they went off and talked with their lawyers in separate parts of the courthouse. He sat with his grandparents on a hard bench. And waited.

  Finally someone dressed like a policeman came and told them that Judge Wilkerson was ready. They followed him into the judge’s chambers.

  When he came in with his grandparents, Judge Wilkerson smiled at him and asked him to sit down on a couch next to her. His parents were already sitting in big chairs facing the couch. His grandparents remained standing.

  “There, now,” said the judge. “I think we can start. Will everybody but Mark and Mr. and Mrs. Conway please leave? I’ll let you know when we’re ready for you to come back. Please wait outside in case there’s anything I need to ask you.”

  The lawyers and Mark’s grandparents left the room.

  Judge Wilkerson spoke directly to Mark.

  “First, let’s go over why we’re here,” she said. Then she went on to explain that Mark’s parents had decided to get a divorce because they had personal problems they couldn’t solve. She pointed out again and again that these problems had nothing to do with their feelings for Mark. Did he understand?

  Mark nodded slowly.

  “Fine,” said the judge. “Then what we need to figure out is what’s best for you.”

  Mark nodded again, then cleared his throat. “Excuse me,” he said. “But if you don’t mind, may I speak?”

  “By all means,” said the judge. “It’s important to hear what you have to say about this.”

  “I know that you want to decide which of my parents get to have me,” Mark said to the judge. “And I want them to know that I love them both very much. But for a long time, I’ve felt like the rope in a tug-of-war.” He paused and looked at his parents. “Mom, you yourself told me your company might be moving soon and that you hoped you would still be part of their team if they did. And Dad, your company is always transferring you all over the place — even across the Atlantic Ocean!

  “The moving around didn’t bother me so much a few years ago. But now I have a real home. I go to the Middle School, and I have lots of friends. I’m on the soccer team, and I just got elected captain. I like it here. And I like living with my grandparents.”

  The judge looked a little surprised. “You do?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Mark answered. “They’re old, but they really make an effort. They went to almost all my games. They know my friends’ names. And they talk to me about what’s happening to me in school and everything.” He smiled briefly. “They talk to me like parents sometimes, too. They’re the ones who made me realize that ignoring my feelings wasn’t doing me any good.”

  The judge smiled with him.

  “I love my mom and dad,” Mark continued. “But I’m tired of moving, and I’m tired of making new friends. Mom and Dad, you both lived in Knights-town before, so you know it’s a good place for me to grow up, right?”

  His parents both nodded. His mother opened her mouth to speak, but Mark stopped her.

  “If nobody minds too much, I have to be honest. And if Grandma and Grandpa wouldn’t mind, I’d like to leave things just as they are.”

  When he was through, he couldn’t look up at his folks. He stared down at the carpet as the judge spoke to him.

  “Mark, would you mind leaving me alone with your parents for a few minutes?” she said.

  Without a word, Mark stood up and left the room.

  When he got outside, Grandma and Grandpa Conway went to him and took him by the hand. They didn’t say anything. The three of them just sat back on the same bench as before.

  It seemed like hours went by before the judge herself appeared and called them back into her chambers.

  Mr. and Mrs. Conway were now seated together side by side on the couch. Mrs. Conway’s eyes were red and puffy, and Mark’s father kept wiping his nose with his handerchief.

  The judge turned to Grandma and Grandpa Con-way.

  “Are you willing to let Mark stay with you a little longer?” she asked.

  His grandparents looked astonished. But they didn’t hesitate in answering. “We would like nothing more,” Grandma Conway said. Grandpa Conway nodded his agreement.

  “All right, then,” said the judge. “I’m going to postpone my decision for a period of no more than a year. During that time, Mark will remain living with his grandparents. Mr. and Mrs. Conway, your lawyers will contact you in the near future to arrange another meeting to discuss this subject. In the meantime, I suggest you both try to settle your work lives in such a way that, should the court decide i
n your favor, you will be able to provide a stable, loving home for Mark.”

  And that was that.

  “You really don’t have to leave?” Craig asked for the third time that afternoon.

  Mark laughed and kicked the soccer ball through a pile of leaves to him. “For the last time, you’re not getting rid of me that easily!”

  “Okay, guys, enough chitchat! Let’s get that ball moving!” came a voice from behind them.

  Mark whirled around in time to see Vince stealing the ball right out from under Craig’s nose.

  “Drat!” said Craig. “I’m never going to earn that Most Improved Player award next year!”

  The three boys collapsed into laughter. Then, with the crisp November air filling their lungs, they headed out onto the playground field to take advantage of the last lingering rays of afternoon sun.

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