Lucy on the Ball Page 4

  Bobby looked down at his oatmeal. Maybe it wasn’t his favorite food, but at least his father loaded it up with brown sugar and berries.

  “Where’s Mom?” Bobby asked.

  “She went to get a few things at the store,” Mr. Quinn told him.

  Just then, Mrs. Quinn hurried in from outside. She shook off a few drops. “It’s still raining,” she said.

  Bobby looked out the window. It was dark, and wet, and chilly. The last thing he wanted to do was play soccer this afternoon.

  After breakfast, his father started a fire in the fireplace. Bobby gathered the horse books he had taken from the library and a pad and pencil. Then he flopped down on the floor. Lucy flopped next to him. Bobby looked at horse pictures and started to draw. He looked a little more. He drew a little more.

  He must have drawn for a long time.

  “Bobby,” his mother said from the doorway, “it’s time to get ready for soccer.”

  Bobby barely looked up. “Oh, I’m not going today.”

  His mother frowned. “What do you mean? Are you feeling sick again?”

  Bobby sat up. “No, I’m fine.”

  “Then why do you think you’re not going?” Mrs. Quinn asked.

  “I want to stay home. I need to finish my drawing of Planet Man.” Bobby held up his latest sketch.

  Mr. Quinn came into the room.

  “Bobby doesn’t want to go to soccer,” Mrs. Quinn informed him. “He wants to stay home and draw.”

  Bobby’s parents were both frowning.

  “Anyway, it’s raining out,” Bobby explained. “And it’s cold.” He didn’t see what was wrong with skipping the game.

  “Bobby,” his father began, “you can’t miss a game just because there’s something else you would rather do.”

  “Why not?” Bobby asked, surprised.

  “When you joined the team, you made a commitment,” Mrs. Quinn said. “Do you know what a commitment is?”

  “Not exactly,” Bobby answered.

  “It’s like a promise,” his mother told him. “You agreed to be a team member and be there for the games.”

  Now it was Bobby’s turn to frown. “They don’t need me. I’m not that good.”

  “You’re getting better,” Mr. Quinn said. “The coach said so at practice.”

  “Besides,” Mrs. Quinn said, “what if two, or three, or four kids on the team decided they didn’t want to play because it’s raining?”

  Bobby thought about it for a moment. “I guess we would have to forfeit the game.”

  “That’s right,” Mr. Quinn said. “You’re on a team. You have to do what’s best for the team. You can’t just think of yourself.”

  Bobby would have liked to think only about himself. Then he could stay in his nice warm house, drawing. But he was a Beagle. The team was even named after his dog.

  “I’ll get ready,” Bobby said.

  Lucy had been sitting quietly. Now she gave a big, long stretch. She looked around. Bobby knew what that meant. She wanted to go for a walk.

  Bobby added, “Can we take Lucy to the game today? She could use the exercise.”

  Mrs. Quinn smiled. “That’s a good idea. We can test out her training. If she gets antsy, Dad can walk around the park with her.” She added, “I’m proud of you, Bobby. Now you’re thinking about the team and Lucy.”

  By the time they got to the soccer field, it had stopped raining. It was still cold. Bobby had to wear a sweater under his jersey. It felt bulky and uncomfortable, but he was warm.

  Coach Morris blew his whistle. The Beagles gathered around him.

  “Team, I like what I’ve been seeing at practice. I think we’re going to do well today. The team we’re playing is the Wizards, but we’re the ones who are going to make magic.”

  Then the coach assigned the positions. “Bobby Quinn. Goalkeeper.”

  Bobby had never started a game as the goalie. He wondered if this meant he was going to have to play the position for both halves. He looked at the sidelines. Lucy was running in small circles. That was the way his stomach felt.

  After the coin toss, Bobby took his position in front of the goal line. He waited and watched.

  “Keep your eye on the ball!” his father yelled.

  He would try.

  For the first few minutes of the game, all the action was on the other side of the field. The Beagles were trying to score. No one could quite kick it in. Then, suddenly, a foot got on the ball. It made a short, hard kick. Goal for the Beagles!

  There were so many kids huddled near the goal, Bobby couldn’t quite see who had made the kick. Was it Dexter? Shawn? Then he saw Candy jumping up and down. Candy had scored!

  This made Bobby feel good. He was happy for Candy. He also knew that Candy wasn’t a very good player. If she could make a goal, maybe he could stop one.

  His chance came later in the half. One of the Wizards, a big, stocky boy, was pushing the ball down the field. None of the Beagles could get the ball away from him. The Wizard kept the ball moving. Then he gave it a big kick. Bobby could see the ball coming right at him.

  Uh-oh!

  The ball was flying through the air. It was high enough to swat with his hands. Could he do it? Bobby forgot he was nervous. He stepped toward the ball and hit it hard.

  The ball fell back onto the field. Bobby had stopped it. No goal for the Wizards this time!

  Bobby was breathing hard. He looked over at the sidelines. His parents were clapping. Lucy was barking. Even Coach Morris was smiling.

  Bobby smiled, too. He had paid attention. He had tried his best. He had stopped the Wizards in their tracks!

  Wow, Bobby thought. Maybe soccer is fun after all.

  Three Beagles

  Shawn and Bobby got off the school bus.

  “We don’t have any homework today,” Shawn said. “Let’s do something before dinner.”

  “Soccer?” Bobby asked. “You could kick, and I could practice being goalkeeper.”

  “I was thinking we could work on Planet Man and the Worm,” Shawn said.

  Both boys started to laugh.

  “This is a switch,” Bobby said.

  “It sure is,” agreed Shawn. “Maybe we can play a little and draw a little.”

  Bobby nodded. “Come over as soon as you can.”

  A happy Bobby opened the door to his house. But when he saw who was sitting on the couch, he felt odd. It was the Baby Lady. Did this mean the baby had arrived?

  “We have a visitor,” Mrs. Quinn said.

  Bobby came into the living room. He noticed that Lucy was quietly stretched out next to the coffee table. “Hello,” he whispered.

  “You remember Mrs. Brady?” his mother asked.

  He nodded. So that’s her name, Bobby thought. Then he looked around. “Where is he?” he asked.

  Mrs. Quinn looked puzzled.

  “Or she,” Bobby added.

  Mrs. Brady laughed. “He means the baby.”

  Now it was Mrs. Quinn’s turn to smile. “Oh, Mrs. Brady is just here for another visit. It will still be a while before we get a baby.”

  Bobby wasn’t sure if he felt glad or sad about that. He was looking forward to a brother or sister. But maybe not quite yet.

  “Come sit down, Bobby,” Mrs. Quinn said.

  Bobby sat in the big red chair. As soon as Lucy saw that, she jumped up on the chair with him. But she didn’t do it in a wild way. She didn’t bark or howl. She neatly hopped up and snuggled beside Bobby.

  “Lucy seems much quieter than the last time I saw her,” Mrs. Brady noted.

  “We’ve been taking her to obedience classes,” Mrs. Quinn said. “No more chewed gloves.”

  Bobby thought his mother still looked embarrassed about that.

  “Well, how wonderful,” replied Mrs. Brady. “I understand dogs can make a lot of progress with a good teacher.”

  “Mr. Morris is both Lucy’s teacher and Bobby’s soccer coach,” Mrs. Quinn said.

  Mrs. Brady
turned to Bobby. “You’re on a soccer team?” When Bobby nodded, she asked, “What’s the name of your team?”

  “The Beagles,” Bobby replied.

  Mrs. Brady looked confused for a moment. “Beagles? Like Lucy?”

  “The team saw how fast Lucy could run, and they decided they wanted to be Beagles, too!” Bobby said proudly.

  Lucy gave a little bark at that. But it was a nice, polite bark.

  There was a knock on the door. “That’s Shawn. We’re going to play for a while,” Bobby said.

  “Have fun,” Mrs. Quinn told him.

  Bobby hopped off the chair, and Lucy followed him.

  “Goodbye,” Bobby called to Mrs. Brady.

  Shawn was standing outside, his soccer ball in his hand. Bobby and Shawn went around to the backyard with Lucy trotting behind.

  “Let’s kick it around for a while,” Shawn said. He put the ball down and gave it a long kick.

  Bobby was about to chase it down, but Lucy got there first. When she reached the ball, she pushed it with her nose. Then Lucy turned and looked at them. C’mon, you guys, she seemed to say.

  Bobby and Shawn started laughing.

  Lucy nudged the ball again. Then she danced around it.

  Bobby ran over to the ball and kicked it toward Shawn. Lucy ran after it once more.

  “Lucy’s a real Beagle,” Shawn said.

  “She likes soccer,” Bobby agreed. “And you know what? So do I!”

  Read all the books

  about Bobby and Lucy!

  Absolutely Lucy

  Bobby’s mother smiled. “Now it’s time for your special present,” she said.

  His father said, “Close your eyes.”

  Bobby was glad to close his eyes. It would be easier to look surprised when he opened them.

  “Okay, Bobby,” his father called, “you can look!”

  Bobby opened his eyes. He didn’t have to pretend to be surprised. Or happy. In his father’s arms was a puppy. The cutest, squirmiest little dog Bobby had ever seen.

  Lucy on the Loose

  “Ben!” Shawn said. “What happened to Lucy?”

  “She … she ran away!” Ben said in a shaky voice.

  Bobby jumped up. “Ran away? Where?”

  “That way.” Ben was confused. He pointed in one direction. “Or maybe that way.” He pointed in the other direction.

  “Which way was it?” Shawn demanded.

  “I’m not sure.” Ben was almost crying. “But she was chasing a big orange C-A-T!”

  Look at Lucy!

  On the way out, a large, colorful poster taller than the boys caught Bobby’s eye.

  The poster had a drawing of different kinds of animals crowded together in front of a television camera. Across the top were the words WANTED: SPOKESPET FOR PET-O-RAMA! Under the picture of the animals it said, “Is your pet cute? Smart? Funny? Enter the Pet-O-Rama spokespet contest and your pet could be on TV!”

  Bobby read the poster carefully. Cute, smart, funny? That described Lucy! She could win the spokespet contest, easy!