Operation Baby-Sitter (3 page)

H
alf an hour later, the noises from the backyard stopped. Bundy peeked out his window and saw that the yard was empty. He decided
to make a break for it.

He picked up his soccer ball and slowly opened his bedroom door. It gave a squeak, and he froze. But the house was silent.

Bundy tiptoed down the stairs, then peered into the kitchen. Mary was nowhere in sight.

Huh,
he thought as he hurried out the door to the backyard.
Some baby-sitter she is!

He put the ball on the ground and scanned
the windows of the house.
She’ll probably hear me dribbling and come running out, wanting to be my best friend.

He gave the ball a few taps, then glanced at the door. It didn’t open.

Man,
he thought as he dribbled the ball across the lawn,
she wouldn’t know if I was up in my room, or down in the basement, or even three houses away!
For some reason, that made him mad. He pulled his foot back and gave the ball a vicious kick.

Crash!

The ball smashed through a garage window!

Mary was there in seconds flat.

“What happened?”she asked, staring at the shattered glass.

“I — I kicked the ball through the window,”Bundy muttered.

Mary looked like she was about to say something. Instead, she went into the kitchen and came out wearing a pair of rubber
gloves. Then she disappeared into the garage. Moments later, Bundy heard the sounds of glass being swept up.

Get in there and help!
his brain scolded him.

But Bundy’s feet didn’t move. Not even when Mary started knocking the broken glass out of the window did he offer to lend
a hand. Instead, he turned around and went back into the house.

Bundy couldn’t wait to leave for his soccer game that afternoon. Mary was watering the flowers around the house when he banged
out the kitchen door.

“Need a ride?”she asked.

“I’m walking with Dewey.”Bundy waited for her to say something more — about the window, about how he’d been acting,
something.

But she just nodded and went back to watering the flowers. Bundy stared at her back for a moment, then headed down the driveway.

When he picked up Dewey, he was in a bad
mood. Dewey asked him what was wrong. But Bundy couldn’t tell Dewey without telling him about the baby-sitter, too. And he
wasn’t ready to do that.

By the time warm-ups were over and the game against the Rangers was under way, Bundy’s mood was pure black.

“Come on, Brant,”he snapped after the fullback missed a tackle.“You’ve got to help Bucky protect that goal!”

A minute later, he yelled at Amanda Caler for a bad kick.

But it wasn’t until the Rangers scored and he threw up his hands, saying,“Oh, great, there goes the game,”that Coach Bradley
benched him.

“Until you cool down,”the coach said sternly,“you’re out.”

Bundy was miserable. He’d never been taken out of a game so early before. Knowing he’d let down his coach and team didn’t
help.

It can’t get any worse than this,
Bundy thought dismally.

Then suddenly, it did.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar figure sit down in the stands. Mary was at the game.

B
undy went cold all over as he pictured what would happen when the game was over.

“Bundy,”Mary would call,“I came to walk you home.”

“Oh, look,”the other kids would tease.“Bundy’s got a baby-sitter. Bundy, make sure you hold her hand when you cross the street!
Does she cut your meat up into little pieces? Will she tuck you all cozy in bed at night, too?”

Bundy groaned.

After halftime, Coach Bradley put Bundy back in the game.

As Bundy raced onto the field, he stole a glance at the stands. Mary wasn’t looking at him.

The score was 1-0 in favor of the Rangers. Now the Rangers were making a threatening move upfield with short passes.

The ball bounced into Bundy’s area. He, Amanda Caler, and Dewey London joined in the mad scramble for it. Two Rangers fought
for control of the ball with them.

Suddenly, one of the Rangers got the ball away. She kicked it toward the ’Cats’ goal. It flew toward the right side of the
net. It happened so quickly, Bucky Pinter had no chance to stop it.

Goal! Rangers 2, ’Cats 0.

Usually Bundy tried to buck up his teammates when they were behind. This time, he didn’t say a word as they got into position.

At the ref’s whistle, Stookie Norris tapped the ball to Lou Barnes, the tall, strong striker with one paralyzed arm. Lou dribbled
forward confidently, then passed back to Stookie.

Bundy raced up closer to Stookie, ready to help out. Stookie passed him the ball.

Bundy dribbled it upfield. He spotted Lou in the clear and directed a sharp kick toward him. But a Ranger stole the ball and
shot past him!

Block tackle from the side
flashed through Bundy’s brain.

Bundy caught up to the Ranger. He got his left foot into position for the pivot, just the way he had in practice against Eddie.
But when he started to swing his right foot around, he stumbled and fell.

Laughing, the Ranger continued to rush the goal. A moment later, the score had jumped to 3-0.

Bundy sat on the grass, listening to the Rangers fans cheer. Then he stood up slowly and walked back to his position.

I’ll bet Mary’s laughing herself silly,
he thought.

The game ended a few minutes later.

Just as Bundy feared, when he had finished slapping palms with the Rangers, Mary walked toward him.

He turned beet red. But to his surprise, Mary didn’t even look at him. Instead, she tapped Coach Bradley on the shoulder.

Coach Bradley broke into a huge grin when he saw her.

“Mary!”he cried, shaking her hand. He turned to Bundy.“Bundy, this is Mary. I coached her when she was in junior high. She
was one of my best players. Captain of her team, to be exact.”

Bundy gaped.

Mary looked at him with a twinkle in her eye.“Bundy, nice to meet you,”she said evenly.“Too bad about the loss.”

“Yeah.”Bundy’s voice was just a squeak.

“Well, it was good to see you, Coach,” Mary said.“Now I’ve got to get back to my job.”

“Does your job have something to do with soccer?”

Mary slid a glance at Bundy, then started walking to the parking lot.“I’m not sure yet”was all she said.

B
undy walked home with Dewey as usual. Dewey was disappointed about the game and didn’t say much. That was all right with Bundy.
He was too busy thinking about how Mary had acted after the game — and about how
he
had acted that day.

Like a jerk
was the conclusion he came to. Operation Baby-Sitter had been a stupid idea. Ignoring Mary hadn’t hurt anyone but himself.

And Mary, he suddenly realized, had just been following his lead.

Coach Bradley told me to lead the team by example,
Bundy mused.
Guess the same thing goes for life off the field, too — and for setting both good and bad examples.

And what about Mary? She could have really made him squirm at the soccer field or when he’d broken the window. But she hadn’t.

I wonder why she didn’t,
Bundy asked himself.
Because she was showing
me
a good example — how not to act like a jerk,
he answered his own question.
Boy, I really blew it.

Bundy turned into his driveway. The garage door was open. He glanced inside, expecting to see an open hole where the window
should have been.

He stopped short. There was no open hole. A gleaming new window stood in its place!

Mary came out of the house. Bundy stared at her.

“You — you fixed the window?”he asked.

She nodded.“I’ve broken a few windows
with soccer balls in my time. My dad taught me how to fix them.”She grinned.“Maybe I’ll show you what to do next time you
break one.”

Bundy didn’t know what to say at first. Then he found the words.

“Thanks. For the window, and for —”

Mary held up a hand.

“The way I figure it,”she said,“you don’t want a baby-sitter. And you sure don’t want your friends to find out you have one.
Right?”

“You got it,”Bundy admitted.

“I don’t blame you,”Mary said.“But I think you’re stuck with me. So what do we do?”

Bundy remembered what she’d said at the soccer field about hoping her job would include soccer. A slow grin crossed his face.

“Maybe if you helped me with my block tackling,”he suggested,“I could say you’re
my private soccer coach instead of my baby-sitter?”

Mary burst out laughing.“You got a deal!”

True to her word, Mary showed up the next morning ready to practice. Bundy worked hard to make up for the way he’d acted.

At first, Mary dribbled at a steady pace in a straight line, showing Bundy how to wait until the ball was away from her foot
before making a move.

When Bundy was able to steal the ball almost every time, Mary started to mix up short bursts of speed with slow taps. Now
Bundy had to concentrate extra hard before snaking his foot in to steal the ball.

“Keep your eye on the ball, not on me,”Mary advised.

Mary’s shins got some bruises, but she didn’t seem to mind.

While they practiced, Mary told Bundy about her days playing for Coach Bradley.