Football Fugitive by Matt Christopher

Author:Matt Christopher [Christopher, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Social Issues, Emotions & Feelings, Family, Juvenile Fiction, Football, Sports & Recreation, Parents
ISBN: 9780316095600
Google: a5ORcX5TzuIC
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2009-12-19T05:00:00+00:00

7

Larry’s face turned scarlet. He felt like a fool, and wished he could make himself disappear.

But he couldn’t. He just had to stand there — as Greg was standing there — and be embarrassed.

The man looked a lot like Yancey Foote. Yet those glasses and that beard made him look different.

“Okay, now. Relax,” said the man. “I noticed you following me about two blocks away. Any reason why?”

The boys looked at each other. “How can I answer him?” Larry thought. “How can I tell him that I think he’s Yancey Foote if I’m not absolutely sure he is? He’d laugh at me.”

“We’re sorry,” Larry said. “We — we have no reason.”

The man smiled. “Can I buy you a Coke, or an ice-cream cone? After a tough game you must have worked yourself up for a treat.”

“No, thanks,” Larry said. “We’d better go home.”

“Okay. Take care now.”

“Yes, sir. And — so long, sir.”

Larry and Greg turned and left as if they were functioning on one brain.

“What a couple of stupes we are,” Larry said disgustedly. “We should’ve known — well, me, anyway — that he might have spotted us following him.”

“Well, we were real close to him before he turned the corner,” said Greg. “Is he who you thought he is?”

“I’m still not sure,” said Larry.

“Larry, you know what I think?” said Greg. “I think you’re just a little bit off your rocker.”

“Thanks,” replied Larry. “I was beginning to think that I’m way off my rocker.”

There was a strange car parked in the driveway in front of his father’s office when Larry got home, indicating that his father was busy with a client.

He walked into the house, expecting his mother to be in the kitchen, the dining room, the living room, or somewhere else in the house. She wasn’t.

He returned to the living room, took off his cleats, and slumped into an easy chair. He was exhausted, thirsty, and hungry. He wished that he had accepted the man’s offer of a Coke or an ice-cream cone. As a matter of fact, he almost had; just having heard the man mention those tasty items had whetted his appetite.

Not until a sharp voice had brought him bolt upright did he realize that he had dozed off.

“Larry! Wake up!”

He opened his eyes, stared at his mother. “Wow!” he said. “I was really asleep, wasn’t I?”

“You sure were. And you should know better than to sit in that chair in that dirty uniform,” she admonished him. “Son, I just don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

“You don’t have to do anything with me, Mom,” he said, getting off the chair and picking up his cleats. A lump rose in his throat as he started to go by her.

Suddenly she reached out and grabbed his arm. He looked at her, and saw a smile come over her face. Her eyes warmed.

“Hey, I’m sorry I yelled. You must have come home just after I left,” she said quietly. “I went over to Helen’s to borrow some coffee.

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