Revenge of the Bully Page 3

  I noticed Josh glance up at the sky with a confused look on his face.

  Coach Laimbardi, who had stopped in back of where we were kneeling, placed his hands on Josh’s and my shoulder pads. He turned to the rest of the team and announced, “Let me introduce you to our new starting backfield—Rathbone and Dumbrowski. They have just the kind of toughness we’ve been lacking around here!” Thank God he didn’t notice my knees beginning to shake under all that padding. “I can’t wait to see them in action,” he continued. “In fact, let’s not wait any longer. Now, I know we don’t scrimmage the first week . . .”

  That’s good, I thought to myself.

  “. . . but I’m willing to make an exception. We have enough guys here today from last year to run some plays. Let’s see what the new guys Rathbone and Dumbrowski can do. Trevor, take the defense out to the twenty-yard line and let’s get started.”

  I watched Trevor’s helmet nod. Then, with a wicked look, he pointed at me and mouthed the words, “You’re mine.”

  I had an urge to puke but pictured bits of last night’s fancy French dinner getting caught in my face mask and managed to keep it down. In a fog, I followed the other offensive players as we made our way onto the striped field. I was about to get crushed and torn apart. Noticing several small groups of students filing into the stands did little to make me feel better. A familiar voice rang out from one of the spectators. “Go get ’em, Rodney!” It was Rishi, sitting with my dad. He waved and held up his phone. “Don’t worry, this takes great video!”

  I walked into the offensive huddle. Apart from Josh, the other faces were unfamiliar. I was relieved to see they weren’t menacing. In fact, many of the guys smiled down at me through their face masks. A bunch of them were as big as Josh and I assumed they were the offensive line. One of the biggest, a tall black kid with a friendly smile, stuck out his hand. “Welcome to the football team.”

  I shook his big hand and breathed easier. “Thanks.”

  “No, let us thank you. We’re sure glad you’re joining the offense, Rodney. My name is Joe. I’m the center. JJ and AJ are your tackles, and Philip and Frank are the guards. We’re the offensive line.”

  I couldn’t believe it. These guys were nice and seemed genuinely happy to have me with them. Not only that, each player was bigger than the next. As I had learned with Josh, it’s good to have big friends.

  Frank said, “We heard all about you last year, of course.”

  “Yeah,” AJ added. “I still can’t believe someone attacked the McThugg Brothers and lived to talk about it.”

  JJ blurted, “I still watch your flight off the Ravine of Doom on YouTube!”

  Joe smiled. “Like I said, we were all real happy when we heard you were joining us. You see, we were kind of hoping you’d be able to help us with some of our problems.”

  The good feeling in my chest was replaced by a tight, uncomfortable feeling. Their faces had lost the smiles of a moment ago and now they looked frightened. “You see, Rodney,” Joe explained, “we’ve been getting bullied quite a bit by a real mean group.”

  The tight, uncomfortable feeling in my chest was quickly replaced by difficulty breathing and a racing heart. This was getting worse by the second. These guys were a head taller than me and a hundred pounds heavier. What group could possibly be nasty enough to bully them? And what could I possibly do about it?

  Over the pounding of my heart I heard myself ask, “It’s Trevor and his gang, right? Are they the cause of your problems?”

  Joe looked surprised and almost laughed. “If it was Trevor, I could handle it. These guys are much worse. I’m talking about—” He stopped short and looked from side to side before making sure it was safe to continue. Finally he whispered, “I’m talking about the Windham team.”

  “Two in particular,” JJ added. “Twin brothers.”

  “Exactly,” Joe said. “They come over here after school—”

  “Oh, no!” JJ gasped, staring at the sideline. “They’re here.” The huddle collectively shuddered. I snuck a peak. You couldn’t miss the twin giants!

  “So can you help us?” Joe asked.

  Trevor had wandered by and was waiting to hear my reply. Suddenly I was living out my worst nightmare. At Baber Intermediate, I had built a reputation as a kid who feared no one—despite the fact that I’m pure coward through and through. It was all by accident, of course, but now I realized that none of my past victories meant much in this new, larger world. If I acted afraid, my whole “Rodney reputation” would vanish. Once it was gone I’d be the number one bully target in Garrettsville. Heck, maybe all of Ohio. I had to pretend to be tough, but how?

  Before I had a chance to answer, Coach Laimbardi shouted, “All right! Let’s run a play!”

  “We’ll talk about Windham later,” Joe said.

  For the time being I was safe—but for how long? Another kid, in a number sixteen jersey, cleared his throat. He’d been quiet up until now. “We’ll run a basic sweep. Sound good to you, Rodney?”

  “Huh?” I was so busy worrying about my reputation that I had forgotten about football.

  “Oh, hey, my name’s Hector. I’m the quarterback. I broke a state record last year.”

  With a star quarterback, maybe we wouldn’t have to run the ball that much. “A state record. That’s great,” I said.

  “Yeah, I broke the record for getting sacked the most times in one season. Seventy-nine—thanks to this great offensive line. That’s twenty-two more times than Johnny ‘Pancake’ Stevenson. I just regained feeling in my feet last week.”

  I glanced over at the offensive line. Joe and the rest of the guys looked sheepish. No one was arguing.

  “I’m not planning to throw the ball this year,” Hector continued. “Not once. Good luck running it. But with these wimps blocking for you, well I just hope you get the bed with the window.”

  “What window?” I asked. “What bed?”

  “At the hospital, man. So you ready?”

  “You sure know how to motivate a guy,” I grumbled.

  He ignored that. “I’ll flip you the ball. You run around the right side. Let’s go. The snap is on two.”

  I grabbed Josh. “You stay in front of me, and if anyone comes near me, you hit him, okay?”

  “Yeah!”

  Josh was my only hope for survival. I was already wondering which state record I’d be going for—most broken bones or wettest pants. I shook off further thoughts.

  Hector stopped walking to his spot behind the center and headed back toward Josh and me. He seemed to want to remind of us something. When he got within a couple of feet, Josh took two steps, lowered his shoulder, and flattened him to the ground. “I done what you said, Rodney!”

  Hector lay gasping on the field. “So much for the feeling in my feet returning . . .”

  I knelt down. “Sorry about that. Josh is kind of new to the sport.”

  “It’s okay,” Hector wheezed, “I’m used to it. I was going to remind you to try to run out of bounds. Trevor and the defense love to pile on top of the runner.”

  I looked in Trevor’s direction and shuddered. He and the rest of the defense were staring hungrily at me. To help set the mood, some band kids in the stands struck up a tune that sounded a lot like the theme from the movie Jaws.

  I had just made up my mind to bolt home when Hector yelled, “Hut! Hut!” The gold-and-black bodies in front of me collided with a crunch. I watched in horror as my golden offensive line fell to the ground, offering minimal resistance to the black shirts that swarmed in my direction. Hector just managed to get the ball away before being swallowed up. The ball flipped through the air several times in my direction and I grabbed it without thinking. The black shirts growled and swarmed onward.

  Josh smashed the first two but Trevor sprinted by him as Josh wrestled with a third. Two more frightening lineba
ckers were a step behind Trevor. They all looked like sharks ready to feast on some foolish swimmer. The band’s choice in music made perfect sense.

  And that’s when my instincts, my ultracowardly, ultrachicken instincts, swept through me and took full control over my nervous system. My legs spun into action. They must have looked like two whirlwinds in a cartoon. I ran hard to my right—away from Trevor. I would have run straight to the sideline but a defensive end ran out in front of me. Knowing that I was about to get crushed between four thugs, I turned hard and sprinted down the field away from the horror behind me. My fear was giving me bionic speed.

  “That’s my boy!” I heard my dad shout as I flew by.

  I was making a run like I did at field day the year before and was going in for the touchdown! The wind was rushing through my face mask as my feet tore down the right sideline. The old Rathbone luck was still with me—until someone dove at my legs. Jumping instinctively to my right, I plowed straight into two gigantic kids standing on the sideline. Their heads banged together as all three of us flew into the air. I was the first to land and watched the other two hit the ground with deafening thuds.

  Rishi charged down from the stands. “That was great!” he shouted. “You hit them like a bowling ball smashing two pins. I got it all on video.”

  The two guys I had clobbered weren’t as pleased. As they staggered to their feet, covered in mud and grass and rubbing their heads, I realized it was the Windham twins! Towering over me, one of them growled, “I know you did that on purpose.” He spit some dirt from his mouth. “Too bad we can’t properly introduce ourselves with so many witnesses around, but we’ll be seeing you soon enough. Bart and Bruno, remember those names.”

  Still dazed from the collision, I watched them walk off.

  “Rathbone! That was the best run I’ve seen in years!” It was the excited face of Coach Laimbardi staring down at me. “In a real game, the spectators won’t be right next to the field. Unlucky. But with you handling the ball, I see big things for this team. Big things.”

  “Super job, son!” my dad yelled from the sideline as I rose to my feet.

  Joe clasped my shoulder. “I knew we could count on you to take care of those guys.”

  “Me too,” JJ added. “It’s great that you have our backs! Finally, someone who’s not afraid of anything.”

  Boy, was I glad my sister wasn’t around to hear that one!

  Chapter 4

  A BIZARRE LESSON IN ROMANCE

  The start of school can be a nerve-racking time for a kid. While my first couple of days probably surpassed anything experienced by my classmates, I can’t say I was surprised. Trouble knows how to find me. For instance, how many people get thrust into the role of football savior on a team where half the players want to tackle them? Or find three cheerleaders flirting with them—right when they’re trying to win back their girlfriend? Or worst of all, witness their dad running around school with a jock strap in his hand?

  Well, you get the idea. It was all pretty much business as usual for me. But by the end of the first week, I began to realize my life had taken a turn that even I couldn’t have imagined in my wildest dreams. I looked around one day and saw that things were . . . good. Thanks to the incident with Bart and Bruno, I was barely getting threatened in the halls and without Josh by his side, Toby was keeping his distance.

  The place where I really noticed a difference was at football practice. I was doing all right and starting to enjoy it. I figured the best thing to do was run right behind Josh as much as possible. And it had been working. He was able to handle Trevor and the middle linebackers, hammering them so hard that they toned down their ferocious assault on the field. Coach Laimbardi loved it. After practice one day he said, “You know, Rathbone, I’ve never had a running back that uses his lead blocker as well as you.”

  “Thanks, Coach.”

  “Yeah, a lot of times players run away from protection and get tackled.” He certainly didn’t have to worry about me running from protection. “Keep up the good work, Rathbone.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Yeah, Coach, he’s playing good,” Trevor’s voice sounded from behind me.

  With my helmet on, I hadn’t seen him approach. Laimbardi nodded his head in agreement before turning his attention to Coach Manuel and walking off.

  “Hey Josh,” Trevor called out, “someone was just looking for you. He said one of the janitors needed help exploding something.”

  Josh immediately tore off in the direction of the school building. I got a sick feeling in my stomach. This wasn’t good. Trevor watched him disappear, muttering, “What a loser.” Then he slapped his hand down hard on my shoulder pad. “I wanted to have a little talk without Frankenstein around to protect you.”

  Was Trevor really going to start something right in the middle of football practice?

  “Listen, Mr. Football Star,” he began, “enjoy the ride, but don’t kid yourself into thinking that I’m not going to get ahold of you. I would right now, if Laimbardi wasn’t here. Trust me, we Tarantolas have no problem waiting for the best time to strike.”

  “Actually, you kinda got me already,” I said. He looked confused so I continued, making it up as fast as I could. “It’s the suspense of waiting, you know. Just ask anyone who’s been killed. Waiting’s the worst part. It would be so much worse for me if you waited, um, say twenty or thirty years.”

  Trevor shook his head before responding. “My brother Toby said you had a smart mouth. He wasn’t kidding. You know, part of me appreciates that, though. Really. But another part of me, a bigger part, can’t stop thinking of the joy your squeals of pain will bring me. Besides, you took my spot as running back and I’m not forgiving that!”

  “Why not? You’re still the starting middle linebacker.”

  “True, Rathbone, true. Coach says defense wins championships. But I know that offense gets the girls. I was this close to kissing Josie.” He held his fingers an inch apart in front of the bars of my mask. “Then you show up and she hasn’t spoken to me since. I’ve been really depressed.” He shook his head. “And you know, there’s only one thing that can get me out of this funk. Can you guess what that is?”

  I had a pretty good idea, especially since he was twisting the front of my jersey and pulling me closer. He said, “You know, maybe now isn’t such a bad time after all, Rathbone. The school psychologist says I need to find an outlet for my anger issues. He advised me not to bottle up my feelings. . . .”

  “Have you tried yoga?”

  “Do you punch people in yoga?”

  “No, but my mom showed me how to do the downward dog. Here, I’ll show you.” I attempted to pull away but Trevor only pulled me in closer. I watched his other hand form a fist. The coaches had conveniently wandered off. Josh was still back at the school. How had the field gotten so empty? Where would he punch? If he went for my face mask he would probably break his hand. Would he aim at my stomach instead?

  Before I found out the answer to my last question, my chicken instincts took over. “What if I can get you a date with Josie?”

  His fist lowered slightly. “I don’t need a slimy runt like you to land me a lady. She already went on a date with me during the summer.”

  “What happened?”

  “We had a great date. Super romantic.”

  “Candlelit dinner?”

  “Nahh, we went to see the demolition derby.”

  “You think a demolition derby is romantic?” I asked.

  “All right, maybe it’s not as romantic as professional wrestling, but that’s why I bought her dinner.”

  “Well, that part sounds nice.”

  “Yeah. The hot dog had a little dirt on it, but it gets dusty at the track.”

  I almost pointed out his stupidity but decided to play along. “Certainly sounds like a special evening,” I lied. “The tr
ack dust is part of the ambiance. Besides, I’ve always felt that dirt adds a nice smoky flavor to meat.”

  “Exactly!” he said, nodding. “You get it.”

  “So after this clearly wonderful date, what happened?”

  “I don’t know!” He let go of my jersey and put his hands into the air. “I texted her a couple of days later to see if she wanted to go cow tipping at the old Smith farm. She never wrote back and when I try to talk to her she avoids me.”

  I had to ask. “What’s cow tipping?”

  “You city boys don’t know nothin’ about a good time. Cow tipping is when you sneak up on a sleeping cow and push it over. They wake up mad and you run away. Good thing you moved here from the city. You’ve been missing out on the finer things in life.”

  “So I see . . .” Afraid he might still need to unleash his anger, I added, “What about me getting you a second date?”

  He looked at me for a moment, thinking.

  “Tarantola!” Coach Laimbardi called from the other side of the field. “Bring in that tackling dummy.” I glanced down at the large red pad lying on the grass.

  Trevor lifted the back of my jersey and hollered, “Don’t worry, Coach, I got the dummy right here!”

  Then, so only I could hear, he added, “You get me that date with Josie and maybe you’ll avoid a date with my fists.” With that, he gave me a jarring shove to the ground and walked off the field.

  After a pretty quiet week, my life had returned to normal.