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quarrel with the constitutional principles that even guilty
defendants were entitled to due process, a fair trial, and a competent lawyer.
But they weren't entitled to him. And his children's rights trumped their
constitutional rights: his children were entitled to a father they could be
proud of, and he didn't think defending a brutal rapist would make his children
proud. So he defended the innocent. For his children.
    "Great
game, William."
    "Thank
you, sir."
    "Super
run, William."
    "Thank
you, sir."
    The
dads had congregated on the field behind the bench to greet the boys.
William's team had lost again. They were 0-6 this season. He shrugged it
off. Few boys at the Academy were athletes. Like Ray. He stood four feet ten
inches tall and weighed ninety pounds. His shoulder pads dwarfed him. His
uniform pants hung so low that his kneepads protected his ankles. He couldn't
run, block, or catch. Heck, he couldn't catch a football if it was made of
felt and he was covered in Velcro. But he was still William's best buddy. He
walked over and sat next to Ray on the bench. He was bent over with his elbows
on his knees and his chin in his hand. William tried to cheer him up.
    "Good
game, Ray."
    "My
dad's gonna be mad."
    "Why?"
    "He
wants me to be a football player."
    William
tried not to laugh. "Seriously? What's he smoking?"
    "On
the grill?"
    "Uh
… no. Did he play?"
    Ray
shook his head. "Does your dad want you to be a football player?"
    "I
think he wants me to be a lawyer."
    "But
you're so good, William."
    He
shrugged. "I'm good at sports, but you're good at math. Man, you do math
stuff that I can't even dream of doing. I wish I was as smart as you."
    Ray
was captain of the math club. More Academy students tried out for a spot in
the math club than on the football team. That's how bad it was at the Academy.
    "You
do?"
    "Sure."
    "I
am pretty good at math."
    "Everyone's
good at something, Ray."
    "Being
the star of the math club isn't the same as being the star of the football
team. Dude, you're going to be a famous athlete one day."
    "Math
people are famous."
    "Name
one."
    He
could not.
    "But
math people do all kinds of neat stuff," William said. "My dad said
they invented the Internet."
    "Al
Gore said he invented the Internet."
    "Who's
Al Gore?"
    "Algorithms,
maybe."
    Ray
laughed as if it were the funniest joke he'd ever heard. William didn't have a
clue.
    "Is
that a math club joke?"
    "Yeah."
    Ray
sat up straight. He seemed happier now.
    "You
want to come over tomorrow, play video games?" William asked.
    "Sure."
    "Right
after the Cowboys game." William stood. "You okay?"
    "Yeah.
Thanks, William."
    William
held his arms out to the smaller boy.
    "Reel
it in, buddy."
    Ray
stood, and William gave him a buddy hug, like the pros do after a good play.
Ray walked off just as William's dad walked up and stuck out an open hand.
William slapped his hand against his dad's.
    "Good
game, William," his dad said. "Sorry y'all lost."
    "No
big deal. It's fun to play with my buddies."
    They
watched Ray drag his helmet over to his dad.
    "What's
that boy's name?"
    "Ray."
    "Is
he a nice boy?"
    "Yeah.
He's a little nugget, but I like him."
    Most
of the boys at the Academy were little nuggets. Others, like Jerry, the school
photography club, were Mc-nuggets. He hurried over with his big camera hanging
around his neck.
    "William,
let me get a shot of you and your dad."
    Dad
put his arm around William's shoulder pads, and they smiled for the camera.

Chapter 4
    "He
should've audibled into a hot route," William said.
    "Who?"
his dad said.
    "The
Cowboys quarterback. Watch the Sam's feet."
    "Sam
who?"
    "The
strong safety. In the NFL, they call him the Sam. Watch his feet, you can see
he's going to blitz."
    "You
can?"
    Last
Sunday they had thrown the football on the beach in Galveston, but this Sunday
they were watching football in the den of the River Oaks house. William sat in
front of the big-screen TV with the sports pages spread out on the floor. His
dad