Read Online Uchenna's Apples by Diane Duane - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Diane Duane
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million-mile stare, please, more of the hundred-yard one, toward the goal?!”
Oh come on, I wasn’t even looking that way! Uchenna thought furiously, spotting the hole in the other side’s defense and whacking the ball straight through it. The ball streaked into the net, only very narrowly missing poor Deirdre Mallon, who stood there looking shocked as it shot past her.
“Nice, but sheer luck!” Mrs. Leenane screamed. “Lucky shot!” The rest of the team broke out in sardonic applause, though the irony was pointed at Mrs. Leenane: she never really believed that any of her team members could actually think their way to a goal instead of just slapping the ball around, which was all she was capable of herself. Uchenna, grinning at her teammates, simply bowed, acknowledging the clapping, and then straightened up again, holding the hockey stick up like a bishop holding up his crozier in benediction toward the team. “Bless you, my children, thank you…”
Over at the edge of the hockey field, Uchenna could see various people hanging over the chain link fence, watching the practice. One of them, standing by herself, was slight and had long blond hair. Emer had been home and changed into jeans and a rusty-black windbreaker and—Uchenna had to snort with laughter—a pair of green rubber “wellie” boots. “All right,” Leenane was shouting, “all right, that’s it for tonight, we’re in okay shape. Everybody, the bus leaves for Naas tomorrow morning at nine thirty, that’s nine thirty, Walsh, Merrion, McConnor, not ten-thirty, just get up a little early for a change…”
The team got together to bang fists and congratulate each other on a good practice. “Sorry about that, Deirdre,” Uchenna said as their turn to fist-pound came around. “Wasn’t trying to hit you…”
Little dark Deirdre grinned one of those quick crooked grins of hers. “I know that,” she said. “But you can do it to the Naas goalie if you want. Better to have them a little off balance…”
“Yeah,” Uchenna said as the team started breaking up. Along with the others, she made her way over to the pile of shoulderbags and bookbags and kit bags, and pushed various of them aside until she found the one that had her school clothes and her books in it. She picked it up and slung it over her shoulder, making her way across the field to the fence where Emer was standing.
Emer saw Uchenna’s amused glance at her wellies. “Not a bad idea,” she said. “I should have brought some of those.”
“You’re okay,” Emer said, looking critically at Uchenna’s field shoes: “got enough mud there already. And look at those socks!”
“Yeah, and I see you’ve got a fair chunk of mud on you too,” Uchenna said, as she swung her bags over the fence and climbed over it, rather than walk all the way down to the gate. “Find anything?”
Emer shook her head, looking depressed. “I went back to the field,” she said. “No tracks.”
Uchenna had to blink at that. “Nothing at all?”
“Nope.”
“I want to see,” Uchenna said.
“Don’t bother,” Emer said. “I took pictures with my phone…you can see those. There’s nothing but a lot of hoofprints inside the field.”
“They go anywhere?”
Emer shook her head again. “Not as far as I can tell. All the grass in that little field was eaten down. And every bit of the apples was gone. The gate was shut—”
As they came out of the park and crossed the street to the sidewalk of the street that led back toward Uchenna’s house, Uchenna saw Emer do something unusual. She actually shuddered. “Chen,” Emer said, “you remember how the gate was tied on with that old rope?”
“Yeah—”
“It was still tied the same way. There was moss on that rope, and the moss wasn’t even touched. Like the knots had never been untied. And if they weren’t, how’d they get the horses out?”
“‘They?’”
“I don’t know… whoever took them out.” Emer gave Uchenna
Oh come on, I wasn’t even looking that way! Uchenna thought furiously, spotting the hole in the other side’s defense and whacking the ball straight through it. The ball streaked into the net, only very narrowly missing poor Deirdre Mallon, who stood there looking shocked as it shot past her.
“Nice, but sheer luck!” Mrs. Leenane screamed. “Lucky shot!” The rest of the team broke out in sardonic applause, though the irony was pointed at Mrs. Leenane: she never really believed that any of her team members could actually think their way to a goal instead of just slapping the ball around, which was all she was capable of herself. Uchenna, grinning at her teammates, simply bowed, acknowledging the clapping, and then straightened up again, holding the hockey stick up like a bishop holding up his crozier in benediction toward the team. “Bless you, my children, thank you…”
Over at the edge of the hockey field, Uchenna could see various people hanging over the chain link fence, watching the practice. One of them, standing by herself, was slight and had long blond hair. Emer had been home and changed into jeans and a rusty-black windbreaker and—Uchenna had to snort with laughter—a pair of green rubber “wellie” boots. “All right,” Leenane was shouting, “all right, that’s it for tonight, we’re in okay shape. Everybody, the bus leaves for Naas tomorrow morning at nine thirty, that’s nine thirty, Walsh, Merrion, McConnor, not ten-thirty, just get up a little early for a change…”
The team got together to bang fists and congratulate each other on a good practice. “Sorry about that, Deirdre,” Uchenna said as their turn to fist-pound came around. “Wasn’t trying to hit you…”
Little dark Deirdre grinned one of those quick crooked grins of hers. “I know that,” she said. “But you can do it to the Naas goalie if you want. Better to have them a little off balance…”
“Yeah,” Uchenna said as the team started breaking up. Along with the others, she made her way over to the pile of shoulderbags and bookbags and kit bags, and pushed various of them aside until she found the one that had her school clothes and her books in it. She picked it up and slung it over her shoulder, making her way across the field to the fence where Emer was standing.
Emer saw Uchenna’s amused glance at her wellies. “Not a bad idea,” she said. “I should have brought some of those.”
“You’re okay,” Emer said, looking critically at Uchenna’s field shoes: “got enough mud there already. And look at those socks!”
“Yeah, and I see you’ve got a fair chunk of mud on you too,” Uchenna said, as she swung her bags over the fence and climbed over it, rather than walk all the way down to the gate. “Find anything?”
Emer shook her head, looking depressed. “I went back to the field,” she said. “No tracks.”
Uchenna had to blink at that. “Nothing at all?”
“Nope.”
“I want to see,” Uchenna said.
“Don’t bother,” Emer said. “I took pictures with my phone…you can see those. There’s nothing but a lot of hoofprints inside the field.”
“They go anywhere?”
Emer shook her head again. “Not as far as I can tell. All the grass in that little field was eaten down. And every bit of the apples was gone. The gate was shut—”
As they came out of the park and crossed the street to the sidewalk of the street that led back toward Uchenna’s house, Uchenna saw Emer do something unusual. She actually shuddered. “Chen,” Emer said, “you remember how the gate was tied on with that old rope?”
“Yeah—”
“It was still tied the same way. There was moss on that rope, and the moss wasn’t even touched. Like the knots had never been untied. And if they weren’t, how’d they get the horses out?”
“‘They?’”
“I don’t know… whoever took them out.” Emer gave Uchenna
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