From Ashes to Honor Read Online Free PDF

ways, kids weren't so different than they'd been back then. That first week of September, they'd change their minds about courses they'd chosen the previous spring, or if a teacher who'd earned a reputation for sternness appeared at the top of their schedules, they'd swap classes to be with their friends. By May, graduating seniors called in "sick," while juniors scrambled to sign up for next year's prerequisites.Sophomores with an eye on college gathered up every available pamphlet in the guidance office, and those bound for vo-tech made appointments to learn which tradesmen were looking for apprentices to work the second half of every school day.
    Her duties as a counselor were as varied as the teens themselves.Occasionally, Mercy was called upon to advise pregnant girls, or kids whose parents were divorcing. Sometimes, she found herself going to bat for youngsters caught red-handed with drugs or alcohol. Always, she made a point of underscoring the dangers of tobacco. She befriended the new transfers, put athletes with sub-par grades together with tutors, scolded bullies—and gave pep talks to their victims.
    But even when the principal demanded Mercy's input on decisions to suspend or expel a student, the pressures and stresses of the job didn't come close to what she'd faced as a police department psychiatrist. Until 9/11, Mercy had loved the work so much that she didn't even mind the low pay and long hours, because—
    A quiet knock interrupted her reverie. A moment later, Abe Archer, the Owl's assistant coach, stuck his head into her office. No doubt he'd come to collect on the promise she'd made before school ended for the summer. He stood in the doorway, grimacing and waving his arms in a futile attempt to stir up some cool air. "Cheese and crackers, girl, and I thought it was hot down in the locker room! How do you stand it?"
    Mercy laughed. "Easy. I pretend this is my own private sauna."
    Shaking his head, he said "Well, more power to you." Then, "We're ready for you."
    Where had the hours gone! Last time she'd checked, the big clock above the door said ten, and now the hands pointed to the eleven and the three. "Let me grab my clipboard," she said, shoving back from her desk, "and I'll meet you on the field."
    Winking, he fired off a smart salute and closed the door as Mercy gathered her things.
    She'd suggested at the start of last year's football season that maybe with a few pointers the team could "psyche out" their opponents. So she studied their opponents and watched the Owls practice, and taught them how brain power, in combination with savvy plays, could win out over brute force alone.At first, her idea received noisy skepticism and scoffing from the coaches and the boys on the team alike. Never one to back down from a challenge, Mercy convinced them to at least give it a try. "If it doesn't work, I'll take you all out for pizza!"
    As things turned out, she treated them to deep-dish and thin crust . . . to celebrate making it into the playoffs. This year, they wanted to get started even earlier, with the hope of winning the championship.
    By the time she arrived on the field, the team had already split into "shirts" and "skins" to practice their new plays. The boys on the bench made room for her while on the field, their teammates grunted and groaned as big padded bodies peppered the grass.
    Abe and Coach Jordan paced on the sideline, shouting insults and instructions in equal measure. Jordan blew his whistle so long and hard that his face turned beet-red, inspiring the kid beside her to lean closer and whisper, "Is it possible for a person's face to explode?"
    Laughing, Mercy said, "No, but I have a feeling if it's physically possible, your coach might just qualify for an entry in the Guinness Book of Records."
    Jordan's croaking bellow overpowered the boy's response."Winston! For the luvva Pete! We went over this not ten minutes ago: Twenty-four, zig right . . . blue. Twenty-four, zig right . . . blue.