Nerves of Steel by Fiona McHugh

Nerves of Steel by Fiona McHugh

Author:Fiona McHugh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: wind at my back, fiona mchugh, mchugh
Publisher: Davenport Press


Chapter Twelve

Fat’s nose had been out of joint for some time now. Everyone else seemed to be better at sports than he was. Take Hub, for instance. In one day of practice drills alone, Hub had scored first in the high jump and second in the javelin and discus throw. One or another of the Doogan brothers had come first in the three-legged race, the wheelbarrow race and the long-distance run. No one else in the entire group had done conspicuously badly. Except Fat. The only race he hadn’t come last in had been the egg-and-spoon. Bad enough being called Fat, he thought morosely. At least he was used to that. But darn it, being a loser in sports was enough to make a guy quit getting out of bed in the morning,

“You’re the youngest in the whole group,” Hub kept telling him. “Just keep practicing and you’ll find something you’re good at. Once you’ve found it, then you gotta concentrate on doing it hard as you can.”

Yeah. Sure. Easy for him to say.

And then one day, when the group was working on the pyramid for the umpteenth time, Fat found that being the youngest and the smallest paid off.

He’d been kneeling on Tony Piretti’s shoulders when suddenly Tony bent down and shook him off.

“Hey, watch it!” Fat yelled as his butt hit the grass with a thwack. But Tony ignored him, calling out to Mr. Sutton, “Hey, coach! This pyramid ain’t working. You know why? Cause the whole goldarn balance is way off, that’s why.”

“Go on,” said Mr. Sutton. “I’m listening.”

“Take a look at Archie here,” commanded Tony. Archie Morris, who took the position at the peak of the pyramid, had spiraled down from the top when Fat had fallen and now lay spread-eagled on the grass. “He’s a whole head taller and maybe two pounds fatter than Fat.”

“Fatter than Fat,” Buck Mayhew sniggered. “Sounds like a riddle: What’s two heads taller and fatter than Fat?”

Mr. Sutton ignored him. He was looking at Tony. “So?”

“So Archie don’t belong on top,” concluded Tony. He pointed at Fat. “Fat belongs on top.”

“Yeah,” snorted Buck. “Cause Fat always rises to the top!”

Mr. Sutton sized Fat up. “Tony’s right,” he said. “Give it a whirl, Fat.”

So the guys had reassembled, grumbling all the while Fat clambered up over Tony, taking special care to yank, accidentally on purpose, Buck’s greasy hair. Then he hauled himself up over the Naughton boys, and, doing his best not to wobble, he slowly knelt upright.

Mr. Sutton stood back. “That’s it! A perfect pyramid. You’re our ace, Fat.”

Fat forced himself to look down. The formation held. Not a wobble in sight. Raising his arms high, he gave a whoop of elation.

“Nerves of steel!” Mr. Sutton smiled up at him.

“That’s what the guy on top needs: nerves of steel and a cool head.”

It was Mr. Sutton who needed nerves of steel a few days later, when the school principal walked into the gym accompanied by a grim-looking man carrying a clipboard, a pencil stuck behind one ear.



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