Bobby the Brave (Sometimes) (7 page)

C
asey whacked her brother over the head with Wandee II, her new wand. “Bobby, wake up!”

Bobby groaned and buried himself deeper under his covers. Was it Wednesday already? Mr. Rainerhaus had probably recovered from his food poisoning, and that meant there would be PE today. Maybe it would be best just to stay in bed and avoid Wednesday altogether.

After a while it grew quiet.
Good
, Bobby thought,
Casey has left
. It was getting stuffy under the covers. But when he came up for air … SPLASH!

“Casey!” Bobby yelled. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” Casey smiled sweetly as she tried to hide an empty water glass behind her back. “Mommy told me to wake you up. Now get up, Bobby Bobby Bobby!!!”

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Mrs. Ellis-Chan said when Bobby finally made it downstairs to breakfast. “Since when did you start taking showers in the morning?”

“I didn't take a shower,” Bobby growled. “It was raining in my room.”

Casey giggled.

“Got some cream-of-wheat waffles for you right here,” his father said, placing a plate of charred blobs in front of him.

Bobby glanced at Annie, who was shaking her head and mouthing, “Don't eat them.” She was wearing her football helmet and a jersey. He used to wonder why she wore it every day. Now Bobby realized why. If he could play football as well as Annie, he'd do the same thing so everyone would know that he was important. At her last football game, the entire Ellis-Chan family sat in the bleachers and cheered as Bobby's big sister completed pass after pass.

“Eat up, Annie,” her father said, refilling her glass with milk. “You want to bulk up for your game on Friday. When the other team sees you out there passing the ball, they'll wish they never heard of the Rancho Rosetta High School Tigers!”

On the walk to school, Bobby was unusually quiet.

“What are you thinking about?” Holly asked. She offered him half of her Toasty Oatsie cereal bar.

“Nothing,” he said as he munched.

“Worried about Mr. Rainerhaus?”

“Yeah,” Bobby admitted.

“Is your dad coming to school?”

“I didn't even tell him about Mr. Rainerhaus,” Bobby said. “He'd probably get all upset to learn we're playing football during PE. My dad knows what a loser I am.”

They silently picked up their pace when they passed the house where the scary cat lived. Cobwebs crowded the windows and the creaky wooden gate was falling apart. Paint peeled off the sides of the house. It seemed ready for Halloween, except that it always looked like that.

“I can't imagine your dad calling you a loser,” Holly said once they cleared the Halloween house.

“He doesn't have to say it,” Bobby replied glumly. “I just know it.”

 

For once Bobby wished the clock would slow down. He was dreading PE more than he ever dreaded anything in his life. During silent study, Bobby made up a list of things he would rather do than face Mr. Rainerhaus.

Then he crossed out #3 and replaced it with
Clean the attic
.

When the dreaded hour for PE finally arrived, Mr. Rainerhaus beamed at him with such intensity that Bobby was momentarily blinded. “Bobby Ellis-Chan, come up front with me,” his teacher instructed. Reluctantly, Bobby did as he was told. “Is your father coming today?”

“Not today,” Bobby answered. His throat was dry.

“Well, maybe another day,” Mr. Rainerhaus said, trying not to look disappointed. He faced the class. “Today we start football, and I'm honored that Bobby has agreed to be my assistant!”

Bobby shook his head. He hadn't agreed to help.

Some of the girls snickered.

“First we'll break into four teams. Bobby, it seems only right that you be a team captain. Volunteers for the other captains?”

As usual, Jillian Zarr, Jackson, and St. James raised their hands.

“All righty! Let's begin. Bobby, you pick first,” Mr. Rainerhaus instructed.

Bobby had never been a team captain before. Some kids looked directly at him. Others waved. A few jumped up and down. Chess held his hands up as if pleading and gave Bobby the same wide-eyed look Wilbur used when he wanted another dog biscuit.

“Chess Kapur,” Bobby said.

Chess grinned so wide that it took up half his face. As he stepped behind Bobby he whispered, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

As Bobby expected, Jillian, Jackson, and St. James picked the most athletic kids. When it was Bobby's turn to pick again, he called out, “Holly Harper.”

A murmur ran through the class. A girl had never been on a team with the boys before. But the way Bobby figured it, since there were three boy team captains and one girl team captain, some girls would have to be with boys anyway. Holly high-fived with Chess as she took her place behind Bobby. When the last person was called, Bobby's team included Chess, Holly, Swoozie, Amy and Amelia (two girls Bobby always had trouble telling apart), and Kip, a boy who was semi-famous because in second grade he had broken both wrists in a freak bowling accident.

Once the teams were decided, Mr. Rainerhaus tossed footballs to each team captain. Bobby caught his and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. “Let's begin with the basics,” Mr. Rainerhaus shouted.

Everyone took turns holding the ball. At least Bobby knew how to do that. When it came time to throw, Jillian Zarr's ball spiraled way past the tetherball courts. St. James and Jackson were pretty good at throwing too. Swoozie's ball somehow went straight up, and Chess's ball hit Holly in the knee.

Then it was Bobby's turn.

“Okay, everyone, gather around,” Mr. Rainerhaus said. “I want you all to see this.”

Bobby felt his chest tighten. Was he having a heart attack? What if he collapsed right now? He felt like throwing up. That was a sure pass out of PE. Maybe if he had a heart attack, threw up,
and
broke both wrists, he could get out of PE for the rest of the year.

Mr. Rainerhaus handed Bobby a football. “Show these kids how to throw. I'll go long and you pass it to me.”

Bobby watched in silent panic as Mr. Rainerhaus jogged to the far side of the playground. He looked like a speck. Bobby realized that if he turned around and ran home right now, Mr. Rainerhaus would have a hard time catching up to him.

“Any time now,” Mr. Rainerhaus shouted. “I'm ready.”

Bobby motioned for Mr. Rainerhaus to come closer. Then closer. Then closer still, until he was about five feet from him. Bobby tossed him the ball.

“What was
that
?” Jillian Zarr asked. “Are you playing hot potato?”

Mr. Rainerhaus shook his head. “I'm disappointed,” he said.

Even though Bobby was standing still, his heart was racing. He was glad his father wasn't there to see this.

“Bobby, it was unfair of me to ask you to show off in front of everyone,” he heard Mr. Rainerhaus say. “We all know that if you're one-tenth the athlete your father is, you could make that ball sail over the school into the street. Yet you chose not to show off. That's the sign of a true gentleman.”

St. James started to say something, but stopped when Holly pinched him.

Bobby didn't think it was possible, but now he felt even worse. Mr. Rainerhaus had gotten it all wrong. He wasn't one-tenth the athlete his dad was. He wasn't even one-one-hundredth.

The class dragged on. Bobby's team was as bad as he thought they'd be. At one point, both Chess and Bobby fell down when they ran into each other. And when Holly scored a touchdown — for the opposing team — she looked like she was going to cry.

By the time the class was over, Bobby was ready to hide under a rock. But Mr. Rainerhaus had other plans. “Bobby,” he said. “Stay behind and help me.”

In silence, Bobby and Mr. Rainerhaus returned the football equipment to the PE shed. Finally Bobby spoke up. “Mr. Rainerhaus, I'm sorry I'm so lousy at football. I can't even throw.”

Mr. Rainerhaus smiled at Bobby. He didn't look nearly as scary when he smiled. “You can throw,” he said. “Well, okay, so maybe when you throw, your ball doesn't go as far as you'd like … or even in the right direction, but you can throw. In fact, I was quite impressed when you threw the ball and it spiraled behind you. I've never seen that before. Listen, Bobby, if you just practice, you can probably get a lot better. I'm sure your dad can help you get really good at football.”

“But what if I don't want to play football?” Bobby blurted out angrily. “Do I have to just because my dad did?” He covered his mouth. Bobby had never said that out loud before.

“You have a good point,” Mr. Rainerhaus said slowly. He sat down on the bench and motioned for Bobby to sit too. “My father wanted me to be a doctor, like him. I even started to study medicine until I realized that being a doctor wasn't who I was meant to be.”

Bobby nodded. Mr. Rainerhaus knew how he felt.

“I'm sorry I put you on the spot,” his teacher continued. “I was so thrilled to learn who your father is that I mistook you for him.”

Hearing this made Bobby laugh. No one had ever mistaken him for The Freezer before. “Thanks, Mr. Rainerhaus,” Bobby said. “That's a first!”

As Mr. Rainerhaus walked him back to Room 15, Bobby thought that maybe Mr. Rainerhaus wasn't so awful once you got to know him. In fact, he no longer seemed like a mean PE teacher. Instead, Mr. Rainerhaus almost seemed like a regular person.

A
nd bring your costumes tomorrow,” Mrs. Carlson reminded the class. “We will be having our one and only dress rehearsal.”

St. James hoisted his backpack over his shoulder. “You should see my Daddy Warbucks costume,” he bragged. “It's got shoulder pads and everything. I look so good!”

Bobby zipped his Troy Eagle backpack shut. His father had been working on his costume forever, but he refused to let anyone see it. Bobby wasn't sure what to expect, especially since his dad had never sewn anything before, unless you counted an upside-down patch on Annie's letterman's jacket.

That afternoon, when Bobby got home, Casey and Wormy Worm Worm greeted him. “You should be more careful,” Bobby advised his sister as she dangled her worm in his face. “I'm not sure if Wormy likes that.”

“Oh!” Casey gently kissed her worm, then placed him back in the dirt patch. “Bobby, want to play? Pleeeease!!!”

Bobby had homework, plus he needed to check on his Sandy costume. But when he looked at Casey, who had her eyes screwed shut and her fingers crossed, he said, “Okay, but just for half an hour. I have important things to do.”

“Will I have important things to do when I'm big like you, Bobby?” Casey asked as she followed him into the house.

He nodded. “Sure. In fact, you already do a lot of important things.”

Casey's jaw dropped. “I do? Like what? Tell me!”

“Well, you take good care of Wormy Worm Worm,” Bobby said. Casey nodded. “And you always make sure your crown is on straight.”

Casey touched her crown. “Princess Becky says that a true princess always wears her crown with pride. What else, Bobby? What other important things do I do?”

He gave it some thought. “Well, Mom always asks you to wake me up in the morning so I'm not late to school. And if you didn't do that, and I was late every day, then I might get kicked out of the fourth grade. And if that happened, I couldn't get into fifth grade or any other grade, and I might end up a ne'er-do-well.”

“Bobby,” his little sister asked, “what's a ne'er-do-well?”

“I'm not sure,” he answered. “I heard it on the
Hop-a-long Howdy Cowboy Show
, and I don't think it's a good thing.”

Casey's eyes welled up with tears. “I don't want you to become a ne'er-do-well,” she sobbed, flinging her arms around him. “I promise to keep up with my important things. Wow, if it weren't for me, you'd be a ne'er-do-well! Wait until I tell Da-Da-Doo!”

As Casey raced to her room to talk to her stuffed dragon, Bobby couldn't help but smile. He liked being a big brother.

Mr. Ellis-Chan had left Bobby's afternoon snack on the kitchen table. Today it was a chunk of cheddar cheese, some green grapes, and what looked like either a cookie or maybe mashed potatoes. Or, knowing his father, a combination of both.

“How was school?” his dad's voice said behind him.

Bobby startled. He had just buried the cookie/potato in the trash and hoped his father hadn't seen him. “Pretty good,” Bobby said. “We need to bring in our costumes tomorrow for the dress rehearsal.”

Worry washed over Mr. Ellis-Chan's face. “Oh,” was all he said. “Um, how about we go to the fabric store? There was a little accident. Well, not an accident, but, well, we need more fabric.”

“Will it be done in time?” Bobby asked. It would be embarrassing to be the only kid without a costume.

“Well, it won't be ready by tomorrow, but I promise it'll be done in time for the show.”

 

Casey was happy to be back at Sew What. She took dozens of spools of thread from the shelves and then stacked them into towers on the floor. Bobby helped her put them back as the store lady stood over them and glared. “And make sure the colors are in the correct places,” she snapped.

Once that was finished, Casey tagged along as Bobby went in search of the furry fabric. “Here it is!” Bobby called out to his father once he found it. “Ah-choo! Excuse me!” Bobby sneezed all the way to the cash register as he carried the fake fur.

The grumpy store lady frowned when she saw him and Casey, but then gasped when she recognized who was with them. “The Freezer!” she exclaimed as she tilted her head back and looked up. “Wow! Wait one moment.” She dialed the phone and handed it to Mr. Ellis-Chan. “If you could just growl to my husband, he'll be thrilled. We're both big fans! Oh, and these must be your darling children. Don't they look sweet? Here, kids, have a lollipop! Have two!”

 

At the dress rehearsal, Holly's hair and costume were all old fashioned-y, just as one would expect of Miss Hannigan. St. James stood taller wearing his Daddy Warbucks suit, and Swoozie made the perfect Little Orphan Annie and even wore a red wig. Everyone looked like they just stepped off a Broadway stage.

Except, of course, for Bobby. Instead of a Sandy costume, he was wearing his usual — skater shorts and a Troy Eagle T-shirt.

“My father says to tell you that my costume will be done in time,” Bobby mumbled to Mrs. Carlson. He kept his eyes on the ground as he spoke.

As the rehearsal progressed, Bobby got swept up in the show and forgot he wasn't dressed as a dog. His barking had never been better. He even added some yelps and a long, inspired howl that made everyone laugh.
Was this how Dad felt when he scored a touchdown?
he wondered. His sister Annie might be a good quarterback, but could she be half the mutt Bobby was? He couldn't wait for the show and imagined his father proudly telling the other parents, “See that dog? That's my boy!”