Tackle Without a Team Read Online Free PDF

she rose from the sofa. “I just want to get a few things straight, that’s all.”
    Sure, Scott thought. And give him a piece of your mind.
    “Shall I get the uniform?” he asked.
    “No. Wait. Maybe I can change his mind.”
    “I doubt it, Ma,” he said, trying to be calm—and keep her calm at the same time.
    “I can try,” she told him, and headed toward the door in the foyer. He waited, feeling his heart thumping against his rib
     cage again.
Please, Ma, don’t get into an argument with him
, he pleaded silently.
    From where he stood he could see Coach Dresso take off his familiar baseball cap and smile at his mother. The coach said something
     that Scott couldn’t hear.
    “Please come inside a minute, will you, Mr. Dresso?” she invited, stepping back so he could enter. She closed the door softly
     behind him.
    “Mr. Dresso,” she began, craning her neck up at him—he was about a foot taller than she — “Scott didn’t put those marijuana
     cigarettes in his duffel bag. He doesn’t even smoke ordinary cigarettes, let alone that filthy stuff. You can’t really think
     …”
    “I’m sorry, Mrs. Kramer,” the coach interrupted courteously. “But the cigarettes
were
in his bag, and we have a very strict rule—”
    “I understand the rule, Mr. Dresso,” Mrs. Kramer cut in, keeping her voice soft and her temper under control. “But those cigarettes
     were put there by somebody else who wanted to incriminate my son. Whether it was another boy on your team or somebody who
     doesn’t even play football, I don’t know. But I
know
it wasn’t Scott who put them in there.”
    “Again, Mrs. Kramer, I must say I’m sorry,” Coach Dresso said evenly. “Until I can get real proof that Scott didn’t put them
     in there, I must stick to the rules. I saw them in Scott’s bag myself. I already told him that I can’t give him special treatment.”
     He paused. “One other thing.”
    She stared at him. “You’re not going to remind me about Eddie, are you? That was a long time ago, and he paid for it. Over
     and over again …”
    “No, I wasn’t going to mention Eddie,” the coach said, his glance shifting to Scott. “I was just going to say that at least
     four of the boys told me that Scott smoked cigarettes at one time. Plain cigarettes. If that’s true, he might have been tempted
     —”
    Her eyes flared. “That’s ridiculous!”
    “Why don’t you ask him?” the coach said.
    She turned to Scott, her forehead creasing as she fastened her gaze on her son.
    “Is that true, Scott? Did you ever smoke cigarettes?”
    His heart sank. It
was
true. He could rememberthe moment clearly, even though it was years ago, when he was nine. It was at night, on Monk Robertson’s back porch. Three
     other kids were with them: Ray Hunter, Jack Whelan, and Bertie McAllister.
    “Yes,” he admitted, looking straight into her eyes.
    Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, Scott. I thought you said you didn’t …”
    “It was only once! A long time ago. I just took a puff or two,” he said in a rush. “That’s all. Because I started to cough.
     I coughed like crazy. And I haven’t touched a cigarette since, I swear!”
    Mrs. Kramer stared at him a moment longer, her expression indicating that she was still surprised he had taken as much as
     one puff. She turned back to Coach Dresso.
    “Is that what the boys told you?” she asked him.
    “Well, I’m afraid not. They said he smoked more than that.”
    “They lied!” Scott said angrily. “They’re a bunch of liars!”
    The coach shook his head regretfully. “I really have to go now,” he said. “I’m very sorry it turned out like this.”
    “So am I,” Mrs. Kramer said, her voice tinged with bitterness now. “I guess you are definitely off the team, Scott.”
    Head bowed, Scott trudged up to his room, got his uniform and helmet, and brought them to the coach.
    “Sorry about this, Scott,” Coach Dresso said sincerely. “But I have no