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Authors: Robert Rayner

Tags: #JUVENILE FICTION / Sports and Recreation / Soccer, #JUVENILE FICTION / People and Places / Canada / General, #JUVENILE FICTION / Social Issues / Adolescence

Falling Star (7 page)

BOOK: Falling Star
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10

Long Island

Edison woke to the sound of the twins' excited voices outside the cabin door. He peered through the little window. Wind and rain were lashing the cabin and, across the road, sheets of spray were shooting into the air as waves thudded against the sea wall. The twins, in bright yellow raincoats, were facing the spray, laughing as it landed on their upturned faces. Julie, Amy, and Linh-Mai came out and joined them.

Julie banged on the boys' door and shouted, “Wake up in there.”

“Go away,” Toby called, pulling the bedclothes over his head.

“They have great breakfasts here,” said Jillian.

“I'll be right out,” said Toby, scrambling out of bed.

The boys dressed quickly and ran to the café, where they sat with the girls.

“What's the special?” Toby asked.

“Eggs and bacon …” Jessica started.

“And sausages …” Jillian continued.

“With beans and home fries,” Jessica finished.

“Bring it on,” said Toby.

Edison, listening to the roar of the wind, said, “I'll have a piece of toast.”

Toby had nearly finished his breakfast when a particularly fierce gust of wind shook the café, and a wall of spray slammed against it.

Jessica said, “It's going to be fun on the ferry.”

Edison asked nervously, “Will it be rough?”

“It depends what you mean by rough,” said Jillian.

“And on the direction of the wind,” Jessica added. “If it's blowing north–south it's not too bad, because the ferry slices through the swell with just a backward and forward rocking motion …”

Toby, taking a last mouthful, paused and echoed uncertainly, “Backward and forward rocking motion?”

“… But if the wind is blowing east–west, across the boat, you get this
really
fun backward and forward
and
side to side rocking motion,” Jillian went on.

The twins, giggling, demonstrated.

Toby murmured weakly, “Backward and forward
and
side to side?”

Edison asked, “Which way is the wind blowing?”

The twins glanced through the window at the flag flapping wildly in front of the motel. Jillian said, “Looks like east–west.”

Toby groaned.

Mr. Field was consulting a list. “Those of you whose parents sent in permission slips for you to take seasickness pills, you'd better take them now.”

Edison took the pills his mother had given him. Everyone else, except the twins and Toby, did the same.

Toby approached Mr. Field and started, “About those pills …”

“… You've changed your mind,” Mr. Field finished for him. He held out two pills. “Have you taken seasickness pills before?”

Toby shook his head.

Mr. Field consulted the side of the carton. “It says here side effects can be drowsiness, lack of concentration, and loss of mental and physical coordination. In other words, it can make you so you're only half aware of what's going on around you, and you just want to sit and stare.”

“Like being in math class,” said Toby.

“You can't fool around with this stuff,” Mr. Field warned. “You never know how you're going to react to medication. Get your friends to keep an eye on you.”

Toby took the pills and followed the others out, while Mr. Field said quietly to Edison, “You're not happy with how you're playing, are you?”

Edison shook his head. “I've lost my nerve.”

“I know. Usually that means you feel under pressure, and that means you have to ask where the pressure is coming from.”

“It's like everyone expects me to play well all the time.”

“Everyone?”

“My coaches …”

“Me?”

“Well, no. But all my other coaches, and … and … my mother.”

“Your mother wants what's best for you.”

“She wants me to go to High Park.”

“I know. She told me before you arrived.”

“Is that all right? Playing for Brunswick Valley so I can try out against High Park?”

“Of course, but do
you
want to go to High Park?”

Edison realized he'd never really thought about it. “I don't know.”

“Talk to your mother about it. Tell her you feel under pressure.”

“Mr. Grease said to ask you about pressure.”

“He did, eh?” Mr. Field paused before going on. “My father is Dan Field.”

“Dan Field who used to play soccer for Canada? Your father is
Dan Field
?”

“That's what everybody says when I tell them. And when I used to play soccer — serious soccer — that's who everybody expected me to be. But I'm not Dan Field. I was never as good as my dad, for a start, although it took me a while to accept that.”

“What did you do?”

“I gave up serious soccer.”

“Are you saying I should give up serious soccer if I can't handle how people expect me to play?”

“I'm saying you have to decide why you want to play serious soccer. Is it because someone — your coaches, or your mother, or whoever — expects you to? Are you playing to fulfill someone else's expectations? Or are you playing simply because you love soccer?”

Edison said, “I love soccer, but …”

“But nothing. Just enjoy the game.”

While Mr. Grease put the van in the lineup for the ferry, the team waited on the wharf, sheltering from the pouring rain and ducking showers of spray as they watched the ferry dock. When they boarded, Toby sat on a bench at the front, facing out to sea.

“You'll get wet,” Edison warned.

“Is it raining?” said Toby.

Edison and Steve went on a tour of the boat. In the lounge, crew members were chaining tables and chairs to the floor. The twins were flying from table to table, greeting and hugging old friends. As the ferry pulled away from the wharf with a long blast on its horn, the boys raced out on deck to gaze in the direction of Long Island, although the twins had told them it wouldn't come into sight until the ferry was clear of the rocky outcrop that guarded the mouth of the harbour. Mr. Grease was leaning on the rail, watching the wharf slip away. Edison and Steve stood on each side of him. He smiled as the ferry lurched wildly when it reached open water.

Edison said, “Where's Mr. Field?”

Mr. Grease grinned and jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the window of the lounge. Edison looked in and saw Mr. Field lying on a bench, his eyes closed.

“I think I'll do the same,” Steve said uncertainly as the ferry lurched again.

Edison headed for the front to check on Toby. He found him smiling happily as the bow dipped into the waves one second and reared up the next, sending sheets of spray over him.

Edison said, “Are you okay?”

Toby nodded, smiling blissfully.

“Are you sure you're not having a reaction to the seasickness pills?”

“I'm not complaining,” said Toby, still smiling.

As he spoke, Mr. Grease strolled around the corner. He looked critically at Toby and told Edison, “I'll watch him.”

Feeling his stomach churn, Edison retreated to the lounge, where Steve and Shay were leaning back in their seats, their eyes closed. Julie staggered in, sat beside Shay for a moment, then rose and said, “I may as well stay in the bathroom.”

Two hours later, when the ferry nosed alongside the wharf on Long Island, the rain had stopped and the wind was dying down. Edison found Toby and told him, “We've arrived. We're tied up at the wharf.”

“That was the best ride of my life,” said Toby.

Mr. Grease followed the line of ferry traffic through a huddle of cottages at the end of the wharf and onto the single island road. They passed several busy wharves before coming to the school, which consisted of a low building with two wings forming a courtyard sheltered from the wind and the sea. The soccer field lay behind the school, and beyond it was the sea. A crowd of islanders of all ages applauded when Mr. Grease stopped in front of the school.

A woman with a square face and jaw and short coppery hair strode forward. “Welcome to Long Island. I'm the coach, Hannah Guptill. We have a surprise for you — a lunch in honour of your visit!”

She threw open the door of the school and the smell of fish chowder wafted out. Edison held his breath while Steve turned away, his hand to his mouth, and Shay stifled a groan. Julie ran behind a clump of alders and threw up.

“Great,” said Toby. “I'm starving.”

Mr. Field said weakly, “That's very kind.”

Hannah Guptill took his arm and led him inside. The twins broke free of the hugs they were receiving from their old friends and followed them. Edison wondered if it would be rude to refuse the meal.

The Long Island team served lunch. Edison sipped listlessly at his soup, trying to avoid the slimier bits of chowder, as he watched Mr. Grease finish three bowls, and the twins two each. Across the table, Toby dreamily spooned chowder into his mouth, hardly noticing when an empty bowl was removed and a full one put down in its place.

Edison was one of the first to leave the table. He ventured out by himself to the field. The sun had come out and the wind was now a gentle breeze that riffled the sea into a series of sparkling troughs stretching to the horizon. A stack of lobster traps beside the field had toppled over and grass was growing through them. Beyond the field, boats were pulled up on the shingled beach and nets were laid out to dry.

As players from both sides drifted out to the field, the twins introduced some of their old friends to the Brunswick Valley team.

Jessica said, “This is Cousin Buddy.” The Long Island centre forward waved.

Jillian pointed to another forward. “This is Junior Green.”

“And here's Cousin Rachel,” said Jessica, flinging her arm around one of the island midfielders.

When Hannah Guptill called the Long Island team together, the Brunswick Valley players gathered around Mr. Field.

“How shall we play?” Shay asked.

Mr. Field waved them away. “Just go play. Have fun.”

Edison wondered how they were going to play an important game when most of them could hardly stand up. He'd forgotten about focusing and envisaging, but it didn't seem to matter. As he listened to the waves rattling the pebble beach, and felt the rough grass under his feet, he reflected on what a contrast the Long Island soccer field was to the grounds he used to play on. The contrast was not just in the surroundings, the pitch, and the way Mr. Field coached, but also in the carefree way his new friends played, the way he'd decided he was going to try to play.

He stood close to Steve for the kickoff, and Steve said, “I'm going to throw up if I run.”

Edison said, “I'll try to get in positions for you to pass without moving too much.”

“Remember what I said,” Steve urged. “Keep trying — and you'll get your nerve back.”

When the game started, Edison felt as if he was playing in slow motion. Every thought and action was an effort as he tried to shake off the effects of the ferry ride. He could tell that his friends were in even worse shape. Steve was still on the halfway line, while Julie and Shay were moving even less. Whenever the play allowed, they stood bent over with their hands resting on their knees. Jason and Brandon were helping Linh-Mai in defence because Toby kept gazing dreamily out to sea. The twins, meanwhile, were racing all over the field, playing with the exhilaration Edison imagined they must have felt as young children kicking a ball around on the beaches of their island home.

The Long Island players, finding themselves unchallenged over most of the pitch, gradually moved into Brunswick Valley's end, keeping up a constant attack. Edison dropped back to reinforce the defence, telling Steve as he passed him on the centre line, “If you get the ball, try to keep it while the twins and I get upfield.”

Cousin Buddy centred and Edison jumped for the ball, colliding with Junior Green, whose elbow caught him in the stomach. Edison bent double, fearing he was going to throw up. Junior apologized.

Edison said, “It was my fault.”

Junior insisted, “It was
my
fault.”

The referee handed Amy the ball to restart the game with a goal kick. She sent the ball into the Long Island end and resumed the conversation she'd been having with Cousin Rachel and Toby. “If I lived here I'd spend hours wandering on the beach.”

“Not in the winter you wouldn't,” said Cousin Rachel. “You'd get blown off it.”

“And I'd have a little boat and float around listening to the seabirds calling and the water lapping around the boat …”

BOOK: Falling Star
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ads

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