Read Online The Fast and the Furriest by Andy Behrens - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Andy Behrens
Ads: Link
“Thanks for the tip, dog e-mailer.”
Cromwell whined.
“
Fine …
maybe I could check the ingredients on your treats, boy.”
Kevin slept poorly that night. He dreamt that Coach Z was chasing him with weapons—knives, flaming arrows, catapults; he dreamt that Coach Z had captured Cromwell and forced him to run laps; he dreamt that Coach Z and Elka Brandt were battling, Jedi-style.
On Monday morning, Kevin’s alarm viciously blared at 7:45 a.m. He winced, then mumbled, then whacked the clock repeatedly with his fist, then jerked the cord free of the wall socket and threw the clock into the hallway.
“Good morning, sunshine!” called his mom, who happened to be rushing past.
“Sorry, Mom,” he managed, then yawned.
Kevin wiped the sleep from his eyes and prepared to meet his doom. Breakfast was unsatisfying, and so was pre-camp TV. Maggie offered to drive Kevin to Scherzer, but he declined.
Where I go now
, he thought,
I must go alone
.
The walk to camp was long, slow, and gray. The skies were dark. Rain was expected, but sadly, not enough to cancel football. Cromwell stayed home, due to the weather and a grooming appointment. Kevin groaned when Scherzer field came into view. Brad Junior was already there, and already surrounded by his groupies.
Kevin looked at the ground and noticed that he’d forgotten his cleats.
“Gee,” he said to himself. “Might not play my best today. Bummer.”
With Coach Glussman out of town, the assistants collaborated on a short introductory talk, then made the campers run the usual lap—and that’s when Coach Z’s method of convincing Kevin to quit began to reveal itself.
“Pugh!”
he yelled, just as Kevin was finishing. “You call that running?! Because I call it lollygagging!”
Kevin said nothing.
“Everyone take another lap!” continued Coach Z. “And please encourage Mr. Pugh to take this one seriously.”
And so they all ran again.
When passing Kevin, most of the campers took the opportunity to insult him, and everyone urged him to hustle.
“Okay, men!” shouted Coach Dombrowski when Kevin finished the lap. “Let’s play!”
Kevin began limping toward the field, completely drained.
“
Hustle
, Pugh!” yelled Coach Z.
Kevin broke into a trot. His coach soon ran alongside him.
“Have you had a chance to think about the conversation we had last week, Pugh?”
“Coach,” said Kevin, “I still can’t quit.”
“Didn’t I give you another option?”
“Well … I can’t promise that I’ll start enjoying myself, either. There’s no fire.”
The coach eyed him for a moment. “Then it’s going to be a long summer for both of us, Pugh.”
Coach Z sprinted ahead, blew a whistle—though not quite with the authority of Coach Glussman—and huddled quickly with Alex before the first game.
Alex walked away from their conversation nodding, then jogged over to Kevin.
“Coach wants you inside,” he said.
“Um … okay,” Kevin said. “It’s supposed to rain today, so I guess that’s cool. But I think the school is locked. Is there a key? What am I suppo—”
“No, Kev,” said Alex. “On the line. On defense. He wants you on the inside of the line. Over the center.”
“Right, sure.” Kevin nodded. “Of course. Got it.”
“Just do your best,” said Alex.
Coach Z whistled again, and Kevin’s team began to arrange itself on the field. A light rain began to fall. Alex stood a few steps behind Kevin at linebacker. Brad Junior huddled with his team just a few feet away, whispering instructions. Kevin stood directly over the ball. He stretched, then hopped in place. Kevin was jittery, despite the fact that no one expected him to do anything.
When the opposing team approached the line, Brad Junior winked at Kevin.
“Hey, Pugh,” he chirped. “Did you say hey to your sister for me?”
Brad smiled.
“Sure did, champ,” said Kevin. “She wanted me to tell you that you’re a flaming bag of …”
“Down!”
screamed
Cromwell whined.
“
Fine …
maybe I could check the ingredients on your treats, boy.”
Kevin slept poorly that night. He dreamt that Coach Z was chasing him with weapons—knives, flaming arrows, catapults; he dreamt that Coach Z had captured Cromwell and forced him to run laps; he dreamt that Coach Z and Elka Brandt were battling, Jedi-style.
On Monday morning, Kevin’s alarm viciously blared at 7:45 a.m. He winced, then mumbled, then whacked the clock repeatedly with his fist, then jerked the cord free of the wall socket and threw the clock into the hallway.
“Good morning, sunshine!” called his mom, who happened to be rushing past.
“Sorry, Mom,” he managed, then yawned.
Kevin wiped the sleep from his eyes and prepared to meet his doom. Breakfast was unsatisfying, and so was pre-camp TV. Maggie offered to drive Kevin to Scherzer, but he declined.
Where I go now
, he thought,
I must go alone
.
The walk to camp was long, slow, and gray. The skies were dark. Rain was expected, but sadly, not enough to cancel football. Cromwell stayed home, due to the weather and a grooming appointment. Kevin groaned when Scherzer field came into view. Brad Junior was already there, and already surrounded by his groupies.
Kevin looked at the ground and noticed that he’d forgotten his cleats.
“Gee,” he said to himself. “Might not play my best today. Bummer.”
With Coach Glussman out of town, the assistants collaborated on a short introductory talk, then made the campers run the usual lap—and that’s when Coach Z’s method of convincing Kevin to quit began to reveal itself.
“Pugh!”
he yelled, just as Kevin was finishing. “You call that running?! Because I call it lollygagging!”
Kevin said nothing.
“Everyone take another lap!” continued Coach Z. “And please encourage Mr. Pugh to take this one seriously.”
And so they all ran again.
When passing Kevin, most of the campers took the opportunity to insult him, and everyone urged him to hustle.
“Okay, men!” shouted Coach Dombrowski when Kevin finished the lap. “Let’s play!”
Kevin began limping toward the field, completely drained.
“
Hustle
, Pugh!” yelled Coach Z.
Kevin broke into a trot. His coach soon ran alongside him.
“Have you had a chance to think about the conversation we had last week, Pugh?”
“Coach,” said Kevin, “I still can’t quit.”
“Didn’t I give you another option?”
“Well … I can’t promise that I’ll start enjoying myself, either. There’s no fire.”
The coach eyed him for a moment. “Then it’s going to be a long summer for both of us, Pugh.”
Coach Z sprinted ahead, blew a whistle—though not quite with the authority of Coach Glussman—and huddled quickly with Alex before the first game.
Alex walked away from their conversation nodding, then jogged over to Kevin.
“Coach wants you inside,” he said.
“Um … okay,” Kevin said. “It’s supposed to rain today, so I guess that’s cool. But I think the school is locked. Is there a key? What am I suppo—”
“No, Kev,” said Alex. “On the line. On defense. He wants you on the inside of the line. Over the center.”
“Right, sure.” Kevin nodded. “Of course. Got it.”
“Just do your best,” said Alex.
Coach Z whistled again, and Kevin’s team began to arrange itself on the field. A light rain began to fall. Alex stood a few steps behind Kevin at linebacker. Brad Junior huddled with his team just a few feet away, whispering instructions. Kevin stood directly over the ball. He stretched, then hopped in place. Kevin was jittery, despite the fact that no one expected him to do anything.
When the opposing team approached the line, Brad Junior winked at Kevin.
“Hey, Pugh,” he chirped. “Did you say hey to your sister for me?”
Brad smiled.
“Sure did, champ,” said Kevin. “She wanted me to tell you that you’re a flaming bag of …”
“Down!”
screamed
Similar Books
