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whenever she saw one of them coming, would dance back a step and push me gently away. Whenthey left, she’d come in real close again and put her head on my shoulder. I was going nuts! And we never got caught once. That method is Jasper’s way of making sure we don’t conceive on the dance floor, but most of the chaperons don’t pay too close attention to it. Jasper’s our principal and superintendent, and he’s from the hard-ass school of principals and superintendents.
    We left early—Becky told everyone that a good athlete needs his rest—and drove the pickup back out to the meadow. The moon was past three-quarters, so you could see the grass and the long shadow of the tree. We hugged and kissed and held each other for a while—she kept it all under control—and then I took her home. Made it a half hour before team curfew.
    Saturday she came down to the station and washed her dad’s car and kept me company. I asked her if she wanted my letter sweater, but she said she didn’t think that was necessary. I was kind of relieved. You pay fifty dollars for the thing; then you don’t get to wear it because you give it to your girlfriend, who it looks like hell on, unless she’s a monster, in which case she probably looks like hell anyway. Becky said it all smacked of ownership, and that wasn’t the kind of relationship she had in mind. I was pretty much alongfor the ride, so it didn’t matter to me.
    What a ride.
     
    I guess if you had to pick a day where things started falling apart, you’d have to go with that Monday.
    Mr. McElroy, the shop teacher, is an amateur photographer, so we have some makeshift game films, like the big time. He ain’t great—sometimes he’ll zero in on the ball and then, after it’s snapped, you stare at the spot in the grass where it was hiked from while the play goes on unnoticed—but they’re certainly better than nothing. Once last year he caught me missing a tackle and then just left the camera on me while I laid in the grass with my chin in my hands and the turkey I missed went on to score. That was the day I learned Lednecky’s definition of “pursuit.”
    Anyway, after the films Lednecky called us to the bleachers in the gym, which was unusual. When we were all sitting and quiet, he took off his hat and sailed it over by the stage and said, “Gentlemen, we had a fine game Friday. There weren’t many mistakes, and none that were costly. And Coach Madison and I got a good chance to look at some of you younger men. So let’s just look ahead.”
    He ran his hand over his face like he does when he’sreal serious. “Salmon River beat Connelly sixty-three to six. Now Connelly doesn’t have much, and we probably could have run up the same kind of score against Tamarack Falls if we’d poured it on. But Salmon River has a transfer from down in California somewhere that we’ll have to watch out for. He’s a black kid, a Negro. Name’s Washington, and he scored six touchdowns.”
    There were a few low whistles, and guys glanced around at each other.
    “That’s right,” he said. “Six TDs.” He paused. “And he’s their quarterback. He passed for two more.” His voice dropped a little. “Men, I don’t know exactly where this boy came from, but we can’t afford to let a ringer come in and spoil everything we’ve worked for. Now I don’t want to sound prejudiced; but I played with blacks up at the U, and there’s only one way you can stop them. That’s to hurt ’em. And I’m telling you now, and I don’t want it to leave this room, I want that Washington kid out of the game! Early!” His voice was no longer low, and the veins in his neck and forehead looked like a road map. His face looked like he was having a heart attack. The man was serious.
    “Kill that jungle bunny!” Boomer screamed.
    “Yeah! Yeah!” Guys were going nuts.
    Lednecky just turned around and took a couple ofsteps away. I looked over at Carter, who looked back and shrugged. Coach