Read The Counterfeit Tackle Online

Authors: Matt Christopher

The Counterfeit Tackle (5 page)

BOOK: The Counterfeit Tackle
3.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Mom laughed. “And, of course, he
never had,” she said. “Buzz, I’ve never seen the likes of you in my life. Take your bath and get dressed. By the way, was
Pete Nettles at the game?”

“I’ll say he was. So were his mother and father. You don’t think he’d miss seeing Corky play, do you? Or Goose?”

“That’s what I thought,” said Mom. “So don’t be surprised if Pete shows up and wants you to go out with him.”

“Oh, no!” cried Buzz. “If he finds out I wasn’t Corky he’ll broadcast it to every kid in the neighborhood. Me and Corky both
will be in
steaming
hot water then!”

“Don’t worry about Pete,” Mom said reassuringly. “He likes Corky too much to tell on him like that. Take your bath. We can
talk later.”

After a warm, refreshing bath he dried himself, dressed and combed his hair.
He remembered what Mom had said about the strong possibility of Pete’s coming over, and wished Dad and Corky were home. But
they weren’t, and he had no idea when they would be.

Then he thought of something that had popped into his mind every once in a while during the game. Never before in his entire
life had so many guys been so friendly toward him. And it was all because of one thing: they thought he was Corky.

He thought back to the basketball games in which he had played. Not even in them had the players been friendly toward him.
Of course they had not been unfriendly. But none of them had ever gone out of the way to slap him on the back or say nice
words to him as the players had during the football game
today. It made him feel… well, real good inside.

They weren’t bad guys at all. They didn’t act anything like they usually did when they saw him on the street. They acted…
well, different. Almost as if they weren’t the same kids.

He tried to explain some of this to his mother. “I know Corky and I are different in certain ways, Mom,” he said, after he
had given her a few examples of what had happened. “But we can’t be that different, could we? Not if we look so much alike
that nobody can tell us apart.”

His mother looked at him silently. There was just a flicker of a smile on her lips.

“You do look almost exactly alike,” she agreed. “But inside, you are made up of different stuff. This stuff is what gives
you a certain personality. It’s this personality that comes out of you when you do things, when you say things, or when you
meet people. It’s this stuff inside of you two boys that makes you different from each other. It’s like two houses that look
exactly alike but have different families in them.”

Buzz weighed her words. He nodded silently. “I’m getting the idea, Mom,” he said softly.

The jangling phone interrupted them. Buzz answered it.

“Corky?” a voice asked.

Buzz reflected on the name for a second. The voice sounded like Goose Marsh’s.

He couldn’t say that Corky wasn’t home. As far as Goose knew, Corky had played football today and must be home.

“Yes, this is Corky,” said Buzz.

“Coming over?”

Suddenly Buzz remembered Goose Marsh’s invitation to go over to his house for some of those cookies Corky was supposed to
love so much.

“Oh, that’s right,” he said. “I almost forgot. I’ll be over in a little while, Goose.”

“Okay. I’ll see you, Cork.”

“That was Goose Marsh,” Buzz said to his mother. “He invited me over for some cookies. He said that his mother had baked some
of the ones Corky was so crazy about.”

His mother’s brows arched a little. “Oh?” she said. Then a smile brushed across her lips and she turned back to her work.
She was mixing up a salad for the evening’s supper. Buzz suspected
that Mom was getting a kick out of something.

“What’re you smiling like that for, Mom?” he asked.

“Those cookies,” Mom confessed. Now she couldn’t contain herself from breaking out in a laugh. “If it’s the kind Corky’s crazy
about, they’re raisin cookies!”

“Raisin? Oh, no!” cried Buzz, and dropped helplessly into a chair. “I hope they’re not raisin!”

But they were. Mrs. Marsh had made a whole panful of them. Her blue eyes twinkled merrily as she offered the cookies to Buzz.

“Take several, Corky,” she said. “They’re free.”

Buzz took one. “One’s enough. Thanks, Mrs. Marsh.”

“Oh, now, Corky. What’s come over you? Why, you’ve never settled for less than four or five. Come on. Take some more.”

Buzz looked up at Mrs. Marsh’s twinkling eyes, then reached up and took another one. “Thanks, Mrs. Marsh. Maybe I’ll have
another after I finish these.”

“Of course, you will,” she said. She put the plate on the dining room table and covered it. “Well, Jerry said that you boys
had a close game today.”

“We sure did,” said Buzz, and bit into the raisin cookie. He tried all he could not to show a face, because this raisin cookie
tasted exactly the way he thought it would. Horrible.

“Did I sweeten it too much?” asked Mrs. Marsh, the smile fading momentarily from her lips.

“No. I think it’s just right,” said Buzz.

“Well, I thought you squinched a little,” said Mrs. Marsh. “It could be a little sweeter than usual. Wait. I’ll bring you
a glass of milk. You’ll want something to wash it down with, anyway.”

“Oh, you needn’t bring me milk, Mrs. Marsh,” protested Buzz.

Almost in the same breath he wanted to add,
But please do. Anything to wash away the horrible taste of these raisins!

He didn’t know how he managed to eat four raisin cookies. It was a good thing that Mrs. Marsh had offered him milk. Buzz thanked
God for cows.

He left soon afterward, two cookies wrapped up in a piece of wax paper stuck
inside his pocket. “Two for the road,” Mrs. Marsh had said they were.

Buzz had a better idea.
Two for Corky
, he thought to himself.

He was halfway home when he met Pete coming down the street.

“Hi, Corky,” greeted Pete. “Stopped at your house, but you weren’t home.”

“Naturally,” said Buzz. The remark came out gruffly, as if Buzz had spoken, not Corky. He quickly smiled. Pete was kind of
on the dumb side, but so what? Everyone couldn’t be blessed with a lot of brains. “Where are you going, Pete?”

A happy smile crossed Pete’s face. “How’d you like to have an ice cream sundae? Or a soda?”

Buzz stared. “You mean you’ll… treat?”

“’Course!”

“Well…” Buzz laughed. “Why not?”

It just proved how much Pete liked Corky. And I bet that Corky’s treated him lots of times, too, thought Buzz. I’m sure learning
things. Not only about Corky, but myself, too.

They entered the soda shop on the corner. Buzz ordered a vanilla ice cream soda and Pete ordered the same. Pete got to talking
about the football game, and now and then Buzz put in a few words.

Something must be wrong with me
, thought Buzz.
I think I’m enjoying his company
.

Someone came into the shop and plunked himself on the seat beside Buzz. It was Frosty Homan. With him was Tony Krebbs.

“Hello, guys,” greeted Frosty. “We’re just heading for the Tower. Why don’t you come with us?”

“I’ll go with you!” cried Pete.

“Okay. How about you, Corky?”

The Tower
?

He had never been up in the Tower. It was the last place in the world he’d ever want to go!

9

I
DON’T know,” Buzz said. “I’d better get home. We’re having supper soon.”

“Supper?” said Tony. “In the middle of the afternoon?”

Tony was exaggerating. But Buzz realized that it really wasn’t as late as he’d thought.

“Come on, Corky,” insisted Pete. “We haven’t been up in the Tower in a long time.”

Buzz knew that Corky had been up in the Tower at least a dozen times. He’d probably accept this invitation without
hesitating a minute. In that case Buzz had better not offer any more excuses to get out of it or maybe one of the guys would
get suspicious.

“Wait’ll I finish this soda,” he said.

He finished it in a couple of gulps, then spun on the stool and got off.

What if Dad, Corky, and Joan are driving down the street while we’re walking
? he thought, as all four of the boys headed for the Tower.
Our goose will surely be cooked then
.

I should have given my glasses to Corky. All he’d have to do is put them on the moment he saw someone he knew. That would
have solved everything. What a time to think of that now!

The Tower was located on a side street outside of town. It was situated on a hill and was about one hundred feet high. It
was an old observation tower which had once been used to spot airplanes for civil defense. The paint on the cabin was nearly
all peeled off now and the windows were broken.

Pete was the first to reach the steel ladder. He climbed it to the first narrow platform about twenty feet up, then started
up the next ladder. After him went Tony, then Frosty, then… Buzz wanted to change his mind at the last minute. He looked up
the topmost ladder and got scared clean through.

What if I get up there and get dizzy? What if I fall?
He didn’t need a second guess to know what would happen to him if
that
happened.

But if he didn’t start climbing, the guys would get suspicious.

He put his foot on the first rung of the ladder and started to climb. He didn’t look down… only up. He tried not to think
of how far the ground was below him.

At last he reached the top. He went through the door into the cabin, his heart pounding wildly.

He had made it. He had climbed up the Tower for the first time. He had broken the spell.

He saw the others standing along the wall, looking out over their small town of Kellsburg.

Look at that kid Pete Nettles. You’d think he’d be scared stiff up here one hundred feet in the air. But he stands there like
a veteran. Height doesn’t bother him a bit
.

Without his glasses, Buzz had a little difficulty picking out the various buildings he was familiar with. But far across
town he could see the football field and next to it the baseball field. He could see the glass factory and trucks backing
up and driving away from it. It was like looking at a toy city with real-life people in it.

Then the guys began recognizing cars and, in some cases, people. They made a game out of it. Buzz tried to see what he could
do, too. But without his glasses it was almost impossible for him to recognize a soul. He made guesses. Whether he was right
or wrong didn’t make any difference. He was having fun.

Then Pete shouted, “Hey, Corky, look!”

Pete was pointing downward and to the left of the Tower. Buzz looked. Suddenly he was overcome by a mixture of happiness and
fear.

“It’s Dad!” he said. “I’d better go! See you later, guys!”

He ran to the door and opened it.

“So long, Corky!” said Pete.

Frosty and Tony said “So long,” too.

The first instant that Buzz looked down the ladder frightened him. He almost started to sway. He waited a moment till his
head cleared, then started down. He reached bottom, then ran down the path to the street. Once he turned and waved to the
boys, then ran on.

Home was a long way away. When he got tired of running he walked awhile. Then he ran again.

He burst into the house. There were Corky, Dad, Joan, and Mom in the living room… all looking at him. He stood there, looking
back at them in silence.
He knew — he just
knew
— that it was no secret any more what he and Corky had done this afternoon.

“Put on your glasses, Buzz,” said Dad seriously. “I want to make sure who I’m talking to.”

Buzz’s face turned fire-hot. He went to his bedroom, got the glasses, and put them on.

“That’s better,” Dad said. “So you played football in Corky’s place, did you?”

Buzz nodded stiffly. He was looking directly at Dad, but from the corner of his eye he could see that a smile was playing
on Joan’s lips and on Mom’s. Corky’s face was as sober as a dog’s.

“And you got away with it?”

Buzz nodded again.

“There was no harm done, Dad,” he
said. And now that he had forced the first words out, he went on, “You know how bad Corky wanted to see that Giants-Bears
game, Dad. This might be the only time in his life he’d have the chance to see two great football teams play. And the Giants
are his favorites. There… there was no harm done, Dad. No one needs to know that it was me who played in the game today and
not Corky. Not once did anyone suspect…”

BOOK: The Counterfeit Tackle
3.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Tingle All the Way by Mackenzie McKade
Contact! by Jan Morris
Deathstalker Rebellion by Green, Simon R.
Solo by Schofield, Sarah
After Hours by Jenny Oldfield
Undone (The Amoveo Legend) by Humphreys, Sara
Shiverton Hall by Emerald Fennell