Goal Line (12 page)

It fell into the hands of the Bears cornerback for the interception. And if he had only gone down to the turf, that would have been the end of everything for the Eagles. Their hopes for an undefeated season, along with Tiki's rash guarantee, would have been dashed to pieces.

But the Bears player who'd come down with the ball tried to run with it. Maybe he saw open field in front of him. Maybe he had dreams of scoring a glorious touchdown to beat the Eagles. Maybe he just wasn't thinking.

Whatever it was, he tried to run, and that gave Tiki the chance to go after him. Catching him at midfield, he reached out and stripped the ball. Not only did he pry it free, but he snatched it out of the guy's hands in midstride!

Not finished yet, Tiki turned back toward the Bears' end zone. Everyone was rushing at him from all directions, but somehow he kept his feet, working himself free of every would-be tackler, until he was finally brought down at the three yard line!

The Eagles quickly lined up so that Manny could spike the ball. Four seconds left—time for only one more play. Coach Wheeler sent the play in from the sidelines—play action for Tiki.

Winded but happy, Tiki lined up. He'd given it his all, but he had enough left for just one more play.…

Manny faked the handoff to him, then spun around the other way, looking into the end zone. Then, not finding anyone open, he turned back to Tiki and fired it to him right on the goal line. Tiki sank to his knees, sticking out his arms with the ball so that there would be no doubt.

TOUCHDOWN!

The gun sounded. The game was over. The greatest comeback in Eagles' history—or at least in recent memory—was complete. And Tiki had made good on his guarantee of victory!

Ronde felt a rush of happiness and relief come over
him as he ran onto the field to join in the happy pileup of Eagles.

And yet, even as they jumped for joy and chanted their victory chant, Ronde knew that this incredible game was only one baby step on the way toward their ultimate goal.

Next week would bring them an even tougher opponent—the Pulaski Wildcats, who'd come in first in the league last year and were even stronger this year. Would the Eagles feed on this comeback over the Bears to come together as a great team? Or would this be the high-water mark of their season?

TIKI HAD TO ADMIT, IT WAS GREAT BEING
everybody's hero. Everyone wanted to be his friend, everyone loved him, thought all his jokes were funny, thought he was the coolest thing since the air conditioner had been invented. They wanted his autograph, his advice, his company.

Only problem was, there wasn't enough of Tiki to go around. He felt like a cake that everyone wanted a piece of and was grabbing at until there were only stale crumbs left to eat.

On Sunday at five o'clock he remembered he had a big math test the next morning. He hadn't even had time to study! He tore himself away from the TV, where Ronde was watching the Chicago Bears shellacking the Washington Redskins.

“Where you going?” Ronde called after him.

“Gotta study,” Tiki said.

“Oh. I already did mine.”

“Yeah, good for you. Enjoy the game.”

“I will. Oh, and don't forget your advice column.
Didn't Laura say she wanted it by tomorrow?”

“Dang!” Tiki said, wincing as it all came back to him. “I forgot about that, too. I've got eighty-four letters to read through!”

“You don't have to read them all, do you?” Ronde asked, dumbfounded.

“How would you feel if you had a problem and sent a letter and the advice guy didn't even read it?” Tiki pointed out.

“I guess you're right. Oh, well. See you around bedtime, 'cause you won't be taking time out for supper.” Ronde laughed, grabbed a big bag of potato chips, and started stuffing his face. “Yesshhh!” he shouted at the TV as Walter Payton broke a big run for the Bears, smashing through the Redskins defense. “Tiki, look. It's your main man!”

“Yeah, whatever,” Tiki said, frowning. “I've gotta go get busy.”

He studied math for a while, but it was hard to concentrate with that big pile of letters staring him in the face. After about twenty minutes he gave up and started reading them.

As he went through each one, he took notes on a pad and drafted a quick response. Most of them were easy problems, things he'd been through before himself and had found a way out of. The few that were more difficult he put aside for later.

He wrote up the easy responses neatly and put them in a pile. These he'd give to Laura so that she could hand them to the questioners. They would not be featured in the column, which had room for only one response per week.

There were three tougher questions. Tiki spent a good amount of time on each of them and carefully thought out how he would go about solving their problem if he were them.

One of the three was the most interesting, and that was the last one he dealt with. This response would be his column for the week.

Dear Confused,

It's not unusual to like someone who doesn't like you back. Just remember that famous American saying “Time heals all wounds.” Sooner or later, you'll stop liking that person and start liking somebody else. And remember, the person you like may like you too, only not the same kind of like. I know you know what I'm talking about. Just hang in there, and try not to think too much about it. Above all, don't get down on yourself. There are probably people out there who like you that way, and you don't even know it!

There. That was done. Not that he knew much about the subject. His life was too busy right now for stuff like that. Still, it was interesting, trying to get into Confused's head and heart, and feel their feelings along with them.

He put his pen down, rubbed his eyes, and realized it was nine o'clock. He hadn't even eaten dinner! No one had called him to the table. Tiki knew that was because Ronde had explained the situation to their mom. But now he was starving. He ran downstairs, to find his dinner on the table, nicely covered with a pot lid.

“Mac and cheese!” he cried as he lifted the lid. “My favorite!”

“It's cold, baby,” his mom said. “It's been sitting there like that for an hour and a half!”

“Sorry, Ma.”

“My, my, you've been working hard,” she said, stroking the top of his head. “Your brain must be all worn out from studying.”

Tiki was about to tell her he'd spent only twenty minutes studying and the rest of the time reading and writing letters, but he thought better of it. He knew what she'd say: “Study first, and spend time on your hobbies later.” By “hobbies,” she usually meant “football.” But a column for the school paper would also qualify in her book as less important than studying for a big math test, and he knew it.

He only hoped he got an A, or at least a B. And hope was about all he had left, since he'd gone through the work so fast it hadn't stuck in his mind at all!

Tiki left math class that Monday feeling weird but good. He'd done okay on the test. At least he thought he had.

After his last class of the day, he headed over to the
Weekly Eagle
office to hand in his column and his responses to the letters he'd gotten.

Laura was waiting for him. “Right on time!” she chirped, taking the papers from him and handing him a big stack. “Here. These are for next week.”

“Huh?”

“Twenty-three letters this time. Your second column comes out Wednesday, and already it's a big hit! Congrats, Tiki. When you're a famous reporter, remember who gave you your start.”

It took him a second to realize she was kidding. Then he gave her a weak laugh, took the letters, stuffed them into his book bag, and headed on out of there. If things kept on going like this, by October he'd have thirty letters a week to answer!

He had to get to practice quick, or he'd be late. But as he was about to open the stairway door, he heard his name being called. Turning, he saw Cootie, the Eagles' mascot, running toward him, waving.

“Wait up, Tiki!” he said. “Got a minute?”

“Uh, not really,” Tiki told him. “I've gotta get to practice.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure…” Cootie seemed unsure of what to say. Clearly he was upset about something. Tiki could see that from the way his eyes were darting this way and that.

“Something on your mind, Cootie?”

“Yeah.… Can we talk in private?” Cootie indicated the stairs, which were empty now that school had let out.

“Okay, sure,” Tiki said, “but try to make it quick.”

“Right, right,” said Cootie, waiting till the door swung closed behind them. “It's … Well, it's about the costume.”

“The costume? What's wrong with it?”

“Nothing … and everything. I was going to write you a letter about it, but I knew that if you answered it in your column, everyone would know the letter was from me. Because of the costume and all.”

“I get it,” Tiki said. “So, what's the problem with it?”

“The problem is, people don't treat me like just another kid,” said Cootie. “They treat me like I'm Ernie the Eagle, you know? Like, they don't take me seriously. I'm a joke to them.”

“Wow.” Tiki nodded, imagining what it must be like to be Ernie the Eagle instead of yourself. Ernie was kind of a cartoon Eagle, so it was easy to see how kids would consider Cootie a less-than-serious person. “I get what you're saying.”

“Well?” Cootie asked. “What can I do about it? I don't want to quit—not when the Eagles are undefeated. But it's getting to be too much for me to take … and I just thought, well, you being an advice columnist and all…”

“Sure, sure, Cootie,” Tiki told him. “Only I've got to get to practice. Let me think on it, okay?”

“But don't write about it in the paper!” Cootie pleaded. “It's got to stay private—between us.”

“Sure thing.”

“I mean, you can't tell anyone. Not even Ronde.”

“Huh?”

“If he finds out, the whole team is gonna know.”

“Hmm, you've got a point,” said Tiki. Ronde wasn't a big talker, except among his Eagles teammates. With them, though, he could be a regular motormouth, and no one's secrets were safe when that happened. “Okay, I won't tell him.”

“You can't even tell your mom!” Cootie said, clutching Tiki's shirtsleeve.

“My mom? Why not?”

“She knows my mom,” Cootie reminded him. “From the office.”

Tiki nodded. Cootie's mom and his own were employees at the same place, and had known each other for years.

“You got it, man. It's just between us. Look, I've gotta book. See you soon, okay?”

“Wait!”

Tiki froze on the steps.
What now?
he wondered. “Yeah?”

Cootie paused. “Nothing. Just … thanks. Thanks for being my friend.”

Tiki blinked. “Yeah. Sure thing. No problem.”

He continued down the stairs, but he could still
feel Cootie's eyes on him. Was he Cootie's friend? Not really—only in the sense that he was everybody's friend, especially anyone associated with the Eagles. But he was obviously somebody very important to Cootie, and his advice meant a lot to him. He would have to think of a solution to Cootie's problem, but right now he had bigger fish to fry.

He got to the locker room fifteen minutes late. Most of the other players were already out on the field, practicing. A few were still inside, watching a video of the Pulaski Wildcats with Coach Wheeler.

“Tiki!” the coach greeted him, pausing the video. “So good of you to grace us with your presence.”

Tiki flashed a shy grin. “Sorry,” he told them all. “I had to stop at the newspaper office and drop off my column for the week. And then … well, this kid had a problem and needed to talk to me.…”

He expected Coach to leave it at that, but instead Wheeler told the other kids to head on out to the field, saying he wanted to talk to Tiki for a minute privately.

Uh-oh
, thought Tiki.
What now?
Didn't he already have enough on his mind?

“I can't remember the last time you were late for a practice,” Coach began, sitting on the bench next to Tiki and watching him strap on his protective gear. “Is there a problem I should be aware of?”

“No, no, Coach. I'm fine,” Tiki assured him.

“I hope so,” Wheeler said. “Because I've got to say, you seem quite distracted these days.”

Tiki stopped strapping on the gear. A feeling of dread was gripping his insides. “I do?”

“Getting hit in the head with the football, showing up late for practice … Is it just me? Or is there something going on in your life that I need to know about?”

“No, everything's great,” Tiki said. “It's just…”

“Yeeesss?”

Tiki sighed. “I've just got a lot of responsibilities, is all.”

Coach nodded. “I thought it might be something like that. You know, Tiki, you do have a lot of responsibility. The younger kids on the team all look up to you. And of course you and Ronde did so much last year to win us a championship. This year everybody's expecting even more out of you.”

“I'm fine with all that,” Tiki said. “I mean—I'm fine, Coach. No problem.”

“You're sure?”

“Sure.”

“You're sure it's not because of
this
?” Coach Wheeler reached into his back pocket and pulled out a copy of the
Weekly Eagle
, with the “Dear Tiki” page showing.

“Oh,” Tiki said, seeing it. “Oh … that.”

“It must have taken a lot of work.”

“You have no idea,” Tiki said, managing a laugh.

“It's very good, by the way. I thought your advice was very thoughtful.”

“Thanks,” Tiki said. Then, “But?”