I was quiet all day, my head swimming with nightmarish images. It wasn’t until well after school that my heart rate slowed to below a million and my brain could clearly pay attention to the outside world.
“I can’t believe Feebletop made you captain after what you said to Lutzkraut,” Rishi was saying as we walked through the neighborhood with a bunch of friends. “I keep flashing back to that look on her face . . . priceless. The best part, though, is that with you as captain, we can’t lose.”
Huh? I didn’t like the sound of that.
“We have to win!” Slim added.
“Why?” Greg asked.
“Super Adventure!” Slim yelled in his face.
“I’m not worried, though,” Rishi continued. “We can’t lose. Dave is like lightning fast, and Rodney, well, he’s Rodney Rathbone. It’s going to be awesome at Super Adventure. Besides the regular coaster, they built a new one, Destination Death.”
I didn’t want to hear any more. First of all, I hate roller coasters, but it wasn’t just that. Half the school was expecting me to lead them to victory. Meanwhile, every time I’ve held a key position during an athletic event, I’ve choked and lost it for my team. Just last year back in New York, I tripped right before the finish line on the hundred-yard dash. Thank God Dave was running it at Baber’s field day and not me. The hundred-yard dash was worth the most points.
“Chicken Legs McGraw is on the white team, and he’s real fast,” Greg was pointing out.
Rishi smiled. “True, but next to Dave, he looks like a slug.”
We continued walking toward the old abandoned school near the McThuggs. I realized that the pressure was squarely on Dave and not me. I began to relax a little—until the hairs on the back of my neck suddenly rose! Something felt eerily wrong. I glanced behind us. A red car was inching along, keeping pace. I looked at the driver. She wore a scarf and had big sunglasses. Something about her nose looked familiar, but I couldn’t be sure. Then the car drove below a tree and the bright glare on the windshield disappeared, revealing another woman sitting in the passenger seat. It was Mrs. Lutzkraut, following us. Following me! Just as I was about to yell, the car sped off.
“What’s with that guy?” Rishi asked, pointing at the car.
“That was no guy. It was Mrs. Lutzkraut and I think Long Nose might have been with her!”
“Ha-ha! Nice one, Rodney,” Rishi laughed, slapping my back.
“No, I’m serious, she was . . .”
“Always kidding, this guy.”
I didn’t say any more. They wouldn’t have believed me. Heck, I’m not sure I believed it. Was it her? I felt jittery all over, made an excuse to leave, and went straight home.
Almost before I knew it, field day arrived. I got dressed that morning and pulled on a blue T-shirt. Besides a few odd, knowing looks, Mrs. Lutzkraut hadn’t done anything else, and I approached the day with only the mild dread of having to lead half the school to victory.
My mom wished me good luck as I headed toward the door. Penny wasn’t quite as generous.
“I hope you don’t mess up like in New York,” she teased.
“Penny!” my mother scolded. “Wish your brother luck.”
“Okay, good luck trying not to mess up.”
With those words of encouragement, I said good-bye and walked to the bus stop. I heard the deep noise of the bus engine before I saw the familiar yellowish gold. As it approached it seemed louder than usual, and when I climbed aboard I realized that the racket wasn’t from the engine alone—the students were cheering. Every kid in blue was chanting, “Rod! Rod! Rod!” Kids on the white team eyed me nervously, but said nothing. With each cheer, a knot in my stomach twisted.
We walked from the bus into the cafeteria, where Mrs. Lutzkraut, dressed in green, picked us up. I noticed Ms. Dearing was in a white tank top. “No blue, Mrs. Lutzkraut?” Rishi asked.
Her scowl, ever quick to show through her wrinkles, grew deeper as she blared, “Keep that mouth shut if you know what’s good for you. Teachers should be impartial. I root for all students to do their best, and it doesn’t matter which class they’re from.” Then she noticed me standing nearby. “And besides, Rishi, I would worry more about your captain letting you down than the color of my clothing.”
How did she know about my secret fear? It was almost like she was a witch who could read my mind. This was supposed to be Baber Intermediate, not Hogwarts! I was happy when we finally lined up and headed out to the field.
Kayla, her arms folded across her chest, came up to me and demanded, “Okay, Captain, get to work.” Did she think I’d be taking on half the school by myself? Most of the events were individual races, and a captain didn’t really do much more than anyone else. I would have pointed this out to her, but people started chanting Rod again.
For a while it looked like my nervousness was unfounded. With the exception of the obstacle course, where Slim got stuck in a tire, we won every morning event, and it was during the class vs. class battle of Capture the Flag that Rishi ran by saying, “We have it won! All we have to do now is watch Dave win the hundred-yard dash this afternoon. We can lose the tug-of-war later and still win.” I nodded coolly, but I exhaled one giant sigh of relief. The rush of air got caught in my throat, however, as a scene unfolded before my eyes.
Dave did a spin move during Capture the Flag and ran by a white team tagger, but he hadn’t noticed Josh slicing toward him from his blind side. Josh clearly didn’t care about the score in the game. He was going in with a lowered shoulder. Dave saw him, but it was too late. He and Josh collided with a sickening smack. Dave crunched to the ground in a heap and didn’t get up.
Our team stood in shock, watching Dave on the ground holding his ankle. “I can almost hear the roller coasters already,” Josh murmured, walking off the field to the water table.
I didn’t say anything. One of my friends was on the ground crying. We huddled around him, and soon a kind, soothing tongue arrived.
“Stop that blubbering, Rishi,” Mrs. Lutzkraut snapped. “What did you hurt? Why are you crying?”
Jessica turned to her. “Dave’s actually the one hurt, Mrs. Lutzkraut.”
Dave, who was clearly in pain, sat with gritted teeth consoling Rishi, who was stretched on the ground shouting, “Why? Why? Why?”
“Zip it, Rishi,” Mrs. Lutzkraut barked, “or I’ll give you a reason to cry.” Then she stared down at Dave. “You’ll have to go to the nurse. It seems your field day will end early.” For a moment she looked slightly compassionate. Seeing me changed that. “Don’t stand there gawking. Line up to go inside. We have lunch, but before that, we need to go over your homework assignments from Tuesday.”
Our class was somber walking in. We sat down and Mrs. Lutzkraut handed out essays we had written. After returning every paper but mine, she stood over my desk and whispered, “Tsk tsk,” under her breath. What did that mean? She walked to the head of the class. I raised my hand.
“Yes, Rodney?”
“Um, you didn’t give me back my paper.”
“That’s because you never handed one in. I have given you an incomplete on the assignment.” Her eyes were gleaming and looking straight into mine.
“But Mrs. Lutzkraut, I did hand it in.”
Her right eye began to twitch. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“Well no, but I definitely wrote the assignment, and I’m pretty sure I turned it in.” Suddenly she had me doubting myself.
“Well I’m pretty sure you’re going to fail if I give you another incomplete.” I heard some kids chuckle, and I didn’t like it one bit.
“That was dumb, not handing in your paper,” Jessica mentioned as we returned outside for recess.
“I did! Mrs. Lutzkraut must have lost it . . . maybe on purpose.”
“Oh come on, Rodney, she’d never do that.”
“She did, though. Ever since Feebletop made me captain, she’s been out to get me. She really . . .” I was cut off by Kayla and our friends, who were gathering around.
“What are we going to do now, Captain?” Kayla asked.
“Yeah, what’s the plan?” Samantha joined in. “Chicken Legs McGraw will win it for them now and we’ll never get to go to Super Adventure. Is there anyone in our class who can beat him?”
“There is,” Rishi calmly answered. Oh good, I thought, until I heard him continue, “Rodney’s the captain. He’ll have to beat him.”
They all looked relieved, but I instantly remembered my past running events. Something always seemed to go wrong. I couldn’t be counted on to win.
“Rodney?” Greg asked. “You all right?”
“Of course he is,” Rishi answered.
“I have a plan,” I announced. It had hit me just as Greg snapped me out of my trip down misery lane.
“You see, he has a . . . wait,” Rishi asked. “We already know you’re going to win the hundred-yard dash for us. Why do we need a plan?”
“You said it’d be close,” I explained. “Well I have a way to win the tug-of-war for sure, and I’ve done the math. We just have to win one of the last two events to win field day.”
“That’s my captain,” Jessica said.
“Rodney, I have never doubted you,” Rishi explained, “but there’s no way we can beat Dearing’s class in the tug-of-war. They’re twice our size, especially with Josh pulling anchorman.”
“Shhhh, keep it down. Toby is right over there. Unless you want Josh to know my plan, don’t let him hear what we’re saying. Everyone, come over here. All right . . .” They crowded in. “Well, you know what happens if we let go of the rope at the same time?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Kayla said. “They’ll go flying, but the rope will go with them and they’ll win.”
“No, Kayla, they won’t win. I’ve been looking at how far the rope must travel for it to cross the line for a victory. If they all fall they’ll pull it, but it won’t go beyond the line. We just pick it up and yank it back. They’ll be so shocked, most of them will let go, and those who don’t will go for a little ride.”
After a few more explanations, my blue team knew what to do. As the field day competitions resumed, the kids in white were laughing and smiling. With Dave out of the way, they were sure they were heading to Super Adventure. Armed with my plan, I wasn’t sweating it.
We lifted the thick brown rope. I was third from the front behind Rishi and an unsuspecting Toby. Jessica was right behind me and Slim was in the back with Greg. Ms. Dearing’s class dropped their smiles and looked at us with grim, determined faces. I could see Josh way at the end, anchorman. He looked ready to pull us over all by himself. I also noticed that Mrs. Lutzkraut had come over to watch the big event.
“When I blow the whistle, begin pulling, but not until then,” Mr. Ball, the gym teacher, announced. Many of us were already yanking a bit. The rope was taut. I felt alive and ready.
The whistle blared and the rope lurched forward. I could feel it slide a bit in my hands and my feet began to give way. I wanted to wait a couple of seconds, but we were being pulled hard and I didn’t think we could last.
“Now!” I shouted. Everyone in our class, except Toby, let go of the rope. The result was immediate and impressive. Toby, still holding on, went flying through the air. The white shirts went down fast and hard. I heard a loud “Oooofffffff!” from many of them and, true to my prediction, the rope hadn’t gone far enough.
“Now!” I shouted again. We all grabbed the rope and yanked. Most of Ms. Dearing’s class had let go and it was easy as pie to pull it back over our line. We all cheered. We had won field day and were so busy dancing around yelling that it took a few minutes to hear Mrs. Lutzkraut shrieking above the commotion. Gradually we stopped cheering and stood silent, looking at her.
“Letting go of the rope is not allowed in the tug-of-war,” she was shouting, making sure Mr. Ball—and two other students in particular—could hear. “It’s dangerous. Rodney, I distinctly heard you yell ‘Now’ right before the rope went flying. This was all your idea, and now look what you did. I hope Josh and Toby weren’t hurt by your actions!”
At this I looked over at the white team. They were a sad sight, a large pile of bodies, with one boy buried at the bottom. With their own force, they must have fallen backward onto Josh. I could see his face, full of pain, rage, and embarrassment. His eyeballs were flaming red and staring my way. Then I saw another unwelcome sight. Toby had flown a good ten feet and landed in the one puddle left over from last week’s rain. He, too, was glaring directly at me through a brown, smeared face.
“Was this some kind of joke on me and Josh?” he yelled.
My dumb plan had reawakened the beasts. Josh was pushing people off him looking ready to kill someone. Toby was walking over to him. Gripped by a surging sense of panic, I almost didn’t hear Mr. Ball add, “Thank you, Mrs. Lutzkraut, for being such an objective witness. But I’m afraid this means your class is disqualified in the tug-of-war.”
The white team cheered. Rishi threw himself to the ground in dismay. Most of my classmates couldn’t believe that their own teacher had ruined it for them, but they also gave me dirty looks, blaming me for the loss. Mrs. Lutzkraut stared in my direction and suddenly stuck out her tongue. “Look!” I screamed, but it was too late. She had turned around.
Kayla muttered, “Nice going, Captain.” A group of downcast blue shirts wandered off, clearly giving me the cold shoulder.
Slim said, “Don’t feel bad. Once you win the hundred-yard dash, they’ll forgive you.”
I wandered over to the starting line, no longer worrying about losing the tug-of-war or failing as captain or even Mrs. Lutzkraut. What had seemed so important just moments ago was nothing now. I had bigger problems. Toby was talking to Josh and pointing at me. Josh turned my way. All he needed was horns and he would have looked like a bull ready to charge.
And that’s just what he did. With a savage yell, Josh flung Toby to the side and began running straight at me. I looked around. There was only one person close to me. It was Mrs. Lutzkraut, and believe it or not, I was relieved to see her. “Mrs. Lutzkraut, look! Josh is running this way. He’s going to kill me! Mrs. Lutzkraut?”
If she heard me, she didn’t respond. I looked up at her in shock just as Mr. Ball fired the pistol to start the race. Instead of waiting around for Josh to trample me, I took off running. I ran like my life depended on it, which it probably did. I ran faster than I ever had before. My panicked, maniacal, fear-driven run was so fast that I escaped Josh and dusted all the competition, including Chicken Legs McGraw.
At the other side of the hundred yards, I was still running on instinct, like a rabbit escaping a fox, and I didn’t really understand why I was met by a white ribbon hitting me in the chest, and why Mr. Feebletop was raising my hand into the air, and why Mr. Ball was yelling, “Blue wins!” and why Mrs. Lutzkraut was pulling out clumps of hair, and why every blue-clad student was encircling me and cheering. I had won field day without even knowing it.