We’re still tied, both teams on 18 now, when the second half begins.This time the Jets kick to us and the ball sails high in the air, the Friday night dew flying off its white surface as it spins towards me. It’s only my fourth touch of the ball, but it lands safely in my hands and I cradle it carefully, feeling my body tingle with anticipation as I focus on the combination of gaps in defence.

  ‘Use your support!’ yells Shawn from the middle of the field, but I am concentrating on the real-life game of join-the-dots in front of me:

  -Run at the front rower / step left at the last moment. Dot joined.

  -Fend off the five-eighth / step right, go wide to the wing. Dot joined.

  -Bring their winger in / go to step left but step right instead. Dot joined.

  -Run the empty corridor in front / look for support. Dot joined.

  -No support? / outrun the winger, score in the corner. Mission accomplished!

  The team run in and congratulate me on my first try for the Rams. Mum and Dad are watching from the car, beeping and flashing the headlights. Not surprisingly, Julie and her scissors are happy as well.

  ‘Nice feet!’ says our hooker Dakota, running in and patting me on the back.

  ‘Make sure you use your support play – don’t be a hero,’ says Shawn, sipping from a water bottle as our trainer hands them out to the rest of the team. This is actually serious, so I don’t say anything.

  He lines up the ball for the kick but he misses, so we lead the Jets 22–18.

  Then the Jets’ hooker spots an opening from dummy half and buries himself over the line. I see it coming and dive forward, trying to hold the ball up, but the referee rules that it has touched the grass. Jets miss the kick from in front. We’re tied again, 22 apiece.

  The last 20 minutes of the game are tough. Mistakes are made by both teams and everyone is out on their feet, trying to defend their lines. With five minutes to go, the ball is sent to Shawn on the fifth and last tackle. As the ball hits his hands, he momentarily lifts his gaze and the balls slips backwards. Play on. I scoop it up and run across the field, trying to identify a good place to land a kick. Instead, there’s a hole between two of their exhausted forwards so I run directly at it. As I break through, the Jets’ fullback and winger fly across the field in cover defence and wrap me up. Their winger strips the ball from my hands and the loud shrill of the referee’s whistle can be heard across the field.

  ‘Illegal strip!’

  she says, and shouts of protest can be heard coming from the Jets’ pack.

  ‘Penalty to the Rams,’

  declares the referee.

  ‘We’ll kick for two,’ says Shawn.

  The conversion is an easy one and the game ends with Camden Rams 24 defeating Narellan Jets 22. Three wins in a row.

  It’s so good to be back.

  Team playing

  Rugby league, sport and life in general is a team game! You are never alone. It’s just as important to assist a try or help someone as it is to score a try yourself.

  CHAPTER 18

  IF YOU DARE

  If I could choose to do today differently, I would.

  Things started off okay. Tomorrow’s a public holiday so no school! Winning! But Shawn messages me at lunchtime and invites me to camp out with some of the team on the old Menangle footy fields. He calls it a bonding exercise. I quickly message Mum and Dad to see if it’s cool with them. Shawn says that his dad will be there, so my parents say yes.

  I have a funny feeling about it, though. I consider making up a dumb excuse about being sick and telling Shawn I can’t come, but I’m no good at being dishonest. Even when we go through the twelve-items-or-less checkout at the supermarket and Mum has thirteen things in the trolley, I break into a cold sweat.

  ‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ asks Lewis, his head buried in his laptop. He’s been researching 3D printing machines. I don’t know what he’s working on, but he says it’s a ‘game changer’.

  ‘Well, if I want to stay on the team, I kind of have to go,’ I say. Lewis softly lowers the lid of his computer and looks at me.

  ‘You and I both know that the old Menangle rugby league fields have a bad rep,’ he says. ‘Nothing good can happen there, especially at night with all of those old freaky sideshow alley attractions.’

  If only I’d listened to Lewis right then and there, I wouldn’t be in the situation I’m in now.

  Our tents are over on the far side of the field. Shawn, Dakota, Krispen, Mohamed and I are lying like army commandos on top of the hill that overlooks the old Menangle Rugby League Club. Coach Sharpe isn’t here. Shawn lied about that so my parents would let me come.

  ‘Look, there they are!’ whispers Krispen. He points down to the rides and sideshow alley stalls, still half sunken into the footy field after the deluge. The weather has faded the paint on the merry-go-round and vandals have already trashed the Haunted House, which now has spray-painted tags all over the front entrance. With the sun setting, I can still see the scary-looking Dracula dummy looking out of the top window.

  ‘Where?’ whispers Shawn, grabbing a set of binoculars out of his backpack and training them on something down below.

  ‘Who are you talking about?’ I ask, wanting to know what’s going on. I thought we were going to toast marshmallows on the campfire and talk about girls. It’s still light enough for me to see Krispen shoot a shifty smile at Shawn. Something’s up and my Spidey senses tell me that I’m somehow involved.

  ‘The other day we heard Luke and Ben talking about camping out at the Meerkats,’ says Mohamed. ‘So we thought we’d crash their party.’

  My heart sinks. In the disappearing light I can just make out the figures of four boys. I know their walk and voices only too well. It’s Luke, Ben, Gerard and Alex.

  ‘I think you’d better tell Teddy the truth,’ says Shawn. Then he laughs. It definitely doesn’t have the warmth of a Ben belly-laugh. I need my friends. Now more than ever.

  ‘Okay, here’s the thing,’ says Krispen. ‘If you really want to keep playing for us, you need to pass an initiation.’ From his tent he pulls out a big bag and empties it on the ground. It contains goblin, werewolf, skeleton, Frankenstein and alien costumes.

  ‘What’s with the Halloween dress-ups?’ I ask.

  ‘Glad you asked,’ he says. ‘We’re all going to wear one and you’re going to go the extra mile.’ Shawn shoves a pump-action water pistol into my hands. ‘Squirt it,’ he says.

  I squeeze the trigger and fake blood shoots from the end, landing on Mohamed’s leg.

  ‘Not on me, you idiot!’ he says, wincing. The others laugh as it runs down his skin. It looks gross.

  ‘And one last thing,’ says Shawn, handing me a carton of Harper’s Free Range Farm eggs. ‘If you cover those Meerkats in blood and eggs, you can be a Ram for life.’

  Oh no! I should have listened to Lewis.

  ‘But,’ says Shawn, eyeballing me, ‘chicken out and you’re benched.’

  Krispen throws me the werewolf costume. It’s time to think quick. I can’t do this to my mates – it’s not right. I run behind a tree with the costume and pull out my phone. I text ‘7’ to Alex – his special number and our secret code. He knows that if a 7 comes through, something’s up. Sure enough, my phone vibrates immediately.

  Where? says his text.

  Back of the dodgem cars, I text back.

  Before the others have even finished changing into their costumes, I scoop up the eggs and water pistol and sprint down the side of the hill towards my friends. I’m sweating under the werewolf mask and my eyes are stinging, making it really hard to see. I push past branches and trip over small rocks before I get to the bottom. Turning around to look back up the hill, I can see the others trying to catch up to me. But I’ve got to get to Alex first. My heart is

  as I run.

  The first weathered attraction is the old dodgem cars ride. The metal side gates have already started to rust and the cobwebs hanging off the cars’ antennas glow in the light of the moon.

  ‘Pssst, around here!’ says Alex, straining to see where I am.

  When I arrive around the back of the dodgems, Alex looks as though he’s about to scream, but with lightning speed, I cover his mouth with my furry paw.

  ‘What the actual –’ he mumbles through the fur.

  ‘No time to explain,’ I whisper. ‘Unless you and the fellas want to be pelted with eggs and covered in fake blood, get out of here.

  Now!’

  He looks down at the eggs and water pistol – but doesn’t move.

  ‘You haven’t got long,’ I gasp. ‘They’re coming!’

  Alex nods. He knows me well enough to understand how serious the situation is. He races in the direction of their camp.

  Behind me, there’s a rustling in the bushes and the Rams appear – first Mohamed, then Krispen, Shawn and Dakota. I can’t see their faces but I know they’re baying for (fake) blood.

  ‘Where are they?’ shouts Mohamed, his voice slightly muffled behind the rubber alien mask. ‘Why did you run off?’

  ‘Shut up, they’ll hear us!’ hisses Krispen.

  ‘Just wanted to get here first,’ I say. ‘In case they, um, tried to make a run for it.’ Shawn stares at me and I blush, which thankfully he can’t see because of my mask. I can tell he’s suspicious, though. ‘But they’re close – near the Haunted House I reckon,’ I say, trying to throw them off the scent.

  Dakota doesn’t wait for another clue. He runs to the entrance to the Haunted House, which is still covered in fake spiderwebs and guarded by a broken-down robot wizard who would normally taunt people to enter

  ‘if they dare’.

  Mohamed and Krispen chase after him but they’re all too chicken to go inside. Instead, they try to look brave by looking through the windows. Before I can follow, Shawn shoves me up against the side of the dodgem cars stand.

  ‘You might have fooled the others, but if I find out you’ve tipped them off, you can forget playing run-on,’ he growls.

  We hear a door slam and Shawn spins in the direction of the Haunted House. Oh no – I told Alex to get them out of here, not go inside! Shawn releases me from his grip and moves briskly past the wizard at the front entrance, clicks his torch on and enters the house. I have just enough time to text Alex before Shawn turns around and tells me to keep up with him.

  Zombies that once had moving arms and gurgled growling noises from between their over-crowded yellow teeth rise out of the graves in front of us. Their bloodied and bandaged hands, still outstretched, give me the creeps as they touch my legs when we brush past them.

  Our footsteps echo down a darkened hallway lined with shiny wooden coffins. Some of them are open with bandaged mummies lying inside. I don’t know who designed this attraction but I can tell straight away that they need to study up on their ancient history. Mummies were laid to rest in sarcophaguses, not coffins. One mummy’s head is only partly bandaged, exposing a skinless face with a bloodshot eye and half an evil grin. Suddenly, there’s a vibration coming from my pocket. It must be a reply from Alex. Shawn is still scanning the passageways with his torch, so I quickly pull out my phone.

  Emergency exit door is jammed! says the text.

  Time for some quick thinking. I wait until Shawn has turned into the adjoining hallway and give myself enough of a head start. Fivefour-three-two-one, GO! I sprint back past the mummies and accidentally snap off one of the zombies’ arms as I try to sidestep them.

  ‘Eeew,’

  I say as the arm rolls along the ground in front of me.

  ‘James?’ yells Shawn from deep inside the house. ‘Where are you?’

  I can hear his footsteps beating back down the hallway and I see the beam of his torch moving up and down as he runs. I push past the wizard and take a sharp right-hand turn, jumping off the front platform and sprinting towards the back of the Haunted House. In the moonlight I can just make out the green exit sign. I grip the emergency exit handle and rattle it violently, but it won’t budge. Shawn’s voice echoes in the distance. ‘James, did you find them?’ He’s made it out of the house and is looking for me. I try something different. I take a deep breath and this time turn the handle softly.To my surprise, it gives way with a gentle click. I pull the door open to see Alex, Ben, Gerard and Luke all huddling together like criminals hiding out from the cops. They see me in my werewolf costume and their eyes go wide.

  ‘AAAAAGGGHHH!’

  they yell, pushing me over and sprinting off into the dark of the night. The water pistol goes flying and I faceplant on the eggs as they fall in front of me.Yolk and egg whites run down the werewolf mask and some dribbles into the eye holes. In a matter of seconds, Shawn, Dakota, Krispen and Mohamed are standing over me, their flashlights in my face.

  ‘What happened?’ asks Shawn.

  ‘They got away,’ I say, ripping off the mask and wiping the slimy egg gunk from my eyes.

  He doesn’t reply, and I know he doesn’t believe me.

  Listen and learn

  In life, school and work, always focus on growing and learning new things. Always pay attention to the teacher or coach when they are talking. Listen and spend time reflecting on everything you are taught.

  CHAPTER 19

  BENCHED

  It’s Thursday night and the last training run before we play Picton Magpies tomorrow. At the moment, they’re our closest competitors and very hard to beat. When I played for the Meerkats, the games were very close, but Picton Magpies always beat us. Same thing for Camden, except there’s a lot riding on this game. Rumour has it that one of the selectors for the regional Under 12s side will be in the crowd tomorrow night.

  Coach Sharpe and the other helpers are coordinating the passing drills, our last exercise before tomorrow’s team is announced. Two lines of players are facing each other. One player runs in, pops the ball up and his opposite catches it and passes back to the front of the first line. Repeat. I’m in the line that receives the ball when it’s popped up. I can see that Shawn, who’s in the opposite line, is letting other boys go in front of him so he can be the one who pops the ball to me. Finally, Shawn saunters forward and runs in to meet me in the middle.

  He does a little step and flicks the ball up at me when I’m not expecting it. It connects sharply with the end of my nose. My eyes water immediately and pain jolts through my face. I put my hand up to my nose. Blood is from my nostrils and staining my white training shirt.

  ‘Trainer! First aid!’ yells Coach. ‘That’s for letting those Mosquitoes get away,’ says Shawn. ‘You won’t make run-on with an injury like that.’ He runs back to position.

  Our trainer pulls a towel from his side and applies pressure to my nose.

  ‘Hold your head up, James,’ he says. ‘It will stem the flow of blood.’ From the corner of my eye, I see someone run up to the coach. I recognise the voice. It’s Dad.

  ‘Oi! Your son did that on purpose,’ he yells.

  Dad’s right, but he’s being a bit embarrassing. ‘Do you need new glasses?’ says Dad, pointing at Coach Sharpe’s spectacles.

  Coach ignores him and motions for the team to head back to the dressing sheds.

  With Dad guiding me and the towel still on my face, we’re the last ones back.

  The team is sitting in a circle for the announcement of tomorrow night’s run-on squad. By now the blood has slowed a little bit and I’m given an icepack in place of the towel.

  Coach has his iPad in his hands and flicks through the screens until he gets to this week’s team list. The dressing shed falls deathly silent.

  ‘I don’t need to remind you how important tomorrow’s game is,’ he says, looking around the circle. Some of the boys nod. ‘Picton Magpies are beatable, but only if we put our best team forward.’ More nods. ‘For this reason,’ he continues, ‘this will be the starting thirteen. Tonight we’ll go backwards from lock.’ He starts to read out the names.

  Lock – Patrick

  Second row – Mohamed and Stanley

  Front row – Bryce and Michael

  The two big front rowers do a high five, followed by a fist bump.

  Hooker – Dakota

  Halfback – Shawn

  He nods his head like it’s no big surprise. He also knows that he has a selector to impress.

  Five-eighth – Calum

  Centres – Liam and Mikail

  Wingers – Beau and Jake

  Fullback – Krispen

  KRISPEN? THE KRISPY KREME?!

  It takes me a while to register what I’ve just heard. Krispen will be at fullback? Has he even played fullback before? Will he be able to read Picton Magpies’s attacking plays? Can he get in position quickly from a kick? Is he able to chase down an attacking player who makes a break?

  But most importantly, with Krispen at fullback, where does that leave me?

  The shock and hurt of the announcement makes the pain of my nose worse and I can’t help the tears that roll down my face, through dried blood and snot.

  Dad puts his hand on my back. ‘Don’t worry, mate,’ he says softly. For an instant, his words make things a little better until I realise that this was Shawn’s plan all along.

  Still clasping his iPad, Coach Sharpe continues to read from the screen.

 

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