End Zone (6 page)

With him out of the lineup, the Eagles were unable to advance. So after only one play, Tiki ran right back onto the field, trying to reach deep down for his last reserves of strength.

“Miami on two,” said Hayden. Another blast through the line.

“Clear 'em out, Paco,” Tiki told him.

“They're already gone,” Paco replied. “Consider it taken care of.”

Paco was as good as his word. Another gaping hole in the line allowed Tiki to break through and gain nine yards—just enough for an Eagle first down as the two-minute warning sounded.

Tiki needed the breather, but he knew it gave Pulaski a rest too.

“Let me throw one, Coach,” Hayden begged. “They'll never expect it—we haven't hardly thrown all game. I know I can hit Frank or Felix in the end zone! Please?”

Coach Wheeler frowned, and so did Tiki. They both knew Hayden was right. But Tiki also knew that Hayden had no game experience passing the ball, and that their whole season was on the line right here. If they didn't score on this drive, they might not get the ball again before time ran out.

“I'm sorry, Hayden,” Coach said, as Tiki sighed with relief. “I've got to stick with what got us here. Next year, it'll be a different story.”

Hayden kicked the dirt, but he nodded, too, to show that he was on board.

“Hey, kid,” Coach Wheeler told him. “Don't get down, now. You've been great out there today. Make sure the handoff goes without a hitch.”

Hayden nodded again and managed a sort of smile. He and Tiki ran back out to the huddle together.

Here it goes,
Tiki thought.
Everything's on the line right now.
He took the handoff, and when he saw that there was no hole, he waited, looking for an opening. He ducked out of reach of the first man through the pile, then saw what he was looking for!

It was just a sliver of daylight, but it was going to have to be enough. Tiki hit it hard, and so fast that no one had a chance to react. Then he was into the open, heading for paydirt! All he had to do was—

“OOF!”

He was hit so hard that he nearly let go of the ball. But something, some instinct, made him grasp it harder, just as the hands started grabbing for it in midair. He landed with the ball still in his possession, and the Eagles were at the Pulaski thirteen.

There was one minute and thirty seconds left in the game. For most of those incredibly long ninety seconds, Tiki felt like he might not have the strength left.

But there was one thing he'd forgotten to mention during that Thanksgiving dinner speech—something he was everlastingly thankful for now. That was his superb conditioning under Coach Wheeler. He'd built himself up into a powerhouse runner, and now he came to see that his endurance had also grown.

Pulaski was out of gas, but Tiki still had an ounce left in his tank. It took five brutal runs, but that last ounce put him over the goal line. It took the Eagles over the top, all
the way to that perfect regular season they'd been dreaming about for months!

The touchdown came with only one second left on the clock, and time ran out during Adam's squib kickoff. The game, and the regular season, was over. The Eagles had done it—and without their regular quarterback!

•  •  •

“Man!” Ronde could not keep the grin off his face. It had been plastered there ever since the final gun sounded. Here it was dinnertime, and he was still flying with joy. “I can't believe we did it!”

Ronde's words brought the wave of happiness back over Tiki, too. He beamed, stuck his tongue out, and shook his head. “I know,” he said.

“I'm so happy, I feel like running around the block and screaming my head off.”

“Ronde, I can barely move my body, let alone run.”

It was true. Tiki had run the ball at least forty, maybe fifty times in the game. He'd taken the worst pounding of his life from those gigantic Pulaski defensemen.

Everything
hurt. He was black-and-blue all over his upper arms and thighs. He'd rolled his ankle in the post-game madness, dancing and jumping around the field, hugging players, fans, Coach. . . .

It had been a great day, and it wasn't over yet. Tiki knew where Ronde was coming from. The day didn't feel complete, somehow. Neither twin was ready to let go of it.

“I know!” Ronde suddenly said.
“Manny!”

“Riiiight,” Tiki agreed.

Poor Manny had had to watch the game from the bleachers. Even though he looked and seemed fine, even though he'd been a part of the celebration afterward, his happiness could not have been as complete as theirs. After all, they'd won
in spite
of him, not
because
of him.

“Let's go over to his house and surprise him!” Ronde suggested.

“We could bike over. It's only, what? Eight blocks?”

“Hey, let's bring him a piece of Mom's victory cake!”

Mrs. Barber had missed the big game. It was a first—she almost always came to their games, especially the big ones. But things were very busy at her job, and her boss told her that, if she kept missing time, he'd have to dock her salary.

She was still at work, and it was after eight o'clock. But she'd left the boys their favorite dinner to heat up—her famous mac and cheese—and there was something extra in the fridge, too—a small cake with a football and the word
VICTORY
etched in the icing.

“Now, how did she know we'd win?” Ronde wondered.

“She didn't,” Tiki said, smiling. “She just believed in us, that's all.”

They both fell silent, feeling how lucky it was to have someone who believed in you—especially if it was your mom.

“Come on, yo,” Tiki said. “Cut Manny a piece and let's go.”

•  •  •

Manny was surprised to see them. Tiki could see that he was glad they'd come—but he could also tell that Manny was trying hard to stay upbeat.

“We sure could have used you, dude,” Tiki told him. “I hurt all over.”

“Sorry,” Manny said, his smile fading. “Sorry . . .”

“Hey, now,” Tiki said, “I didn't mean it like that.”

“No, Manny,” Ronde added. “It's not like that—if you'd been playing, the game wouldn't have been close.”

“Besides,” Tiki said, “now that we're both in the playoffs, we'll probably be playing them again really soon.”

“I think we actually get them first,” Ronde said.

Manny sighed. “I know. That's the trouble.”

“Trouble?” Tiki didn't like the sound of that word.

“What do you mean, trouble?” Ronde said quickly.

Manny swallowed hard. “Well, the good news is, I didn't have any headaches today.”

“Great!” Ronde said. “That's fantastic.”

“But this is the first day I haven't had any. And the doctor says that even light concussions sometimes need a month or more to heal.”

“A—a month?” Tiki stammered.

“Or more?” Ronde moaned.

Manny nodded. “That's what he said.”

“But that would mean . . .”

“That I'd be out for the entire play-offs.”

Suddenly, Tiki felt his whole world turn upside down. He and Ronde exchanged alarmed looks. If Manny couldn't play, the Eagles would have to somehow win behind Hayden Brook.

That would mean game after game of Tiki getting pounded. Could he take that kind of punishment and still be a force on the field?

If he couldn't—if the Eagles failed to repeat as State Champs—everyone would say it was his fault!

In an instant, one of the best days of his life had become one of the worst!

THE NEWS HIT RONDE LIKE A BRICK. WITH MANNY
at the helm, they'd had a good chance of winning the State Championship. In fact, they'd been the favorites, at least according to the
Roanoke Reporter.

Without Manny, the Eagles had two chances—slim and none.

They'd barely beaten Pulaski today, with Tiki doing double duty! They'd
never
be able to do that again. Tiki was moving now like he was eighty years old. The next game was less than a week away. Hayden Brook was going to have to be the “man”—or at least, the “Manny”—until the real Manny came back. Which might be never, as far as this year was concerned.

Ronde and Tiki put on brave faces, smiled big smiles, and told Manny to hang in there. “You'll probably be back in a couple days,” Tiki told him. “You'll see.”

Manny shrugged. “The doc said we'd play it week by week. So that means the soonest I can be ready is Wednesday.”

“Hey, that's game day!” Ronde said, clapping Manny on the back. “Dude!”

“Yeah, that's
if
he says I'm ready. If not, it's another week of torture.”

“Oh, hey!” Ronde said. “We almost forgot. Here, we brought you something.” Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out the piece of cake with
VICTORY
written on it. Except the word
VICTORY
had gotten all smushed in the backpack. The icing came totally off as he unwrapped it. “Uhh, sorry, dude.”

“That's okay,” Manny said, taking it from him carefully. “Mmm. Good,” he said, tasting the icing with his fingertip.

“It said ‘victory',” Tiki told him. “My mom baked it for us.”

“Wow. Mmmm.”

“Well, enjoy it,” Ronde said. “We've gotta get home.”

“Okay. Thanks for the cake. And thanks for coming,” Manny told them, giving them a sadder but more sincere smile than the one he'd worn when they got there.

Back on their bikes, riding home in the dark, the boys were silent, except for Tiki's occasional grunts when something hurt. Halfway home, he said, “Pull over, Ronde.”

They brought their bikes to a halt. “You okay?” Ronde asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, man.”

“Then why'd we stop?”

Tiki put a finger to his lips. “Sshhh,” he said.

The night was quiet and cloudy. It was cold, too. December was here, and any day now, the first snow of the winter might arrive.

“Look up there,” Tiki said, pointing to the top of Mill Mountain. The big neon star glowed brightly in the night, like a beacon in the sky.

There were other stars up there, Ronde knew. Billions of them, hidden by the clouds. But this one, neon, man-made, and five-pointed, seemed to stand for all the others.

“That's our lucky star up there, Ronde,” Tiki said softly. “Get a good look at it. We're gonna do this thing. Don't ask me how I know. . . . I just do.”

Ronde said nothing. He stared at the star, then at Tiki, whose eyes were glowing with its reflection. Ronde had rarely heard his twin talk like this. In fact, he couldn't think of even one time. He wanted to ask Tiki how he knew, but Tiki had just told him not to.

Ronde was left to wonder whether Tiki even believed what he was saying. He sure seemed to—but maybe he was just trying to convince himself.

But hey, so what? Wasn't that exactly what Ronde had done when he'd talked to Tiki at halftime? Had he really believed half the things he'd said?

Well . . . he
had
at the moment he
said
them, at least. Now, looking back on it, it was hard to tell. Ronde decided to go with the flow; to go with the notion that Tiki had
had a vision—a vision that, somehow, they would make come true.

Suddenly, the chill of the air hit him, and he shivered. “Let's get on home, Tiki,” he said. “I'm about to freeze to death.”

“Sure thing,” Tiki said. He gave the star one last look, then pointed his bike toward home. He was about to shove off, when he turned back to Ronde again. “Hey,” he said. “Give me the shake.”

Ronde walked his bike next to Tiki's and offered his hand up.

“We're gonna make this happen,” Tiki said. “I swear it.”

Ronde hesitated for only a second before saying, “Me too.”

The brothers exchanged the handshake they'd invented back in peewee league, where this whole incredible journey had started. It was December now. Pretty soon, their football careers at Hidden Valley Junior High would be history.

Would it be a story of triumph? Or would it end in bitter defeat, after this final turn of bad luck?

The image of the shattered mirror rose to Ronde's mind, but he shut it out, forcing himself to keep looking at the Mill Mountain star as they rode home in the dark.

•  •  •

“Atta baby, Hayden!” Coach Ontkos yelled as the QB launched a long pass that landed softly in Felix's arms.
“Look at that. He didn't even have to break stride!”

Hayden smiled shyly, happy to be praised, but not used to all the attention.

He'd better get used to it in a hurry,
Ronde thought.
He's gonna get all he can handle.

Coach Ontkos was responsible for the Eagle offense, and at today's practice, he was devoting most of his time to his new quarterback.

Hayden was looking more confident already. All he needed was experience, Ronde thought, and he'd be a star in his own right. He had a great arm, he threw a ball that was easy to catch, and he was pretty accurate, too—so long as he wasn't being pressured.

That was the thing, Ronde knew. No amount of practice could prepare Hayden for the speedy, huge Pulaski defenders who would be gunning for him. Sure, Hayden had faced the same defense last week, but since the coaches didn't let him pass much, there was never any pressure coming at him.

This week, Coach Wheeler had decided they would show Pulaski a different game plan. Ronde knew this was smart—Pulaski would put extra people on Tiki, and devise new ways to stop the run. If the Eagles wanted to win two in a row from their archrivals, it would have to be through the air.