The Birthday Party of No Return!

  Some of the guys were goofing on one another, making jokes and bumping one another into the lockers. But I stayed quiet in my corner of the locker room. I wanted to concentrate.

  This was the most important game of my life.

  Cory came in when I was almost in my uniform. He tossed his backpack against the wall and set his helmet down on the bench. He started to unlock his locker.

  “How’s it going, Lee?” he asked.

  “Not bad,” I said. “Actually, I feel good. I feel good about this game.”

  “Me, too,” he said.

  He pulled off his T-shirt and stuffed it in the locker. Then he lifted the good-luck claw off his neck. He set it down on the bench beside the helmet.

  “I’m going to the Stampede game at the arena Saturday,” Cory said. He struggled with the shoulder pads. Realized he had them on backward. Took them off and started again.

  “I get to sit on the bench and hang out with the players,” he said.

  “I’m going to the game, too,” I told him. “My dad got tickets in the second row.”

  “Awesome,” Cory said. He tightened the shoulder-pad straps. “Maybe I could get a ride with you, Lee. My parents are going somewhere Saturday night, and they didn’t want to drive me.”

  “Sure,” I said. “I’ll tell my dad to stop at your house.”

  Yes, we were in a competition to the death. But Cory and I were still friends. It was a friendly competition.

  Except … staring at his vulture claw on the bench, I suddenly didn’t feel so friendly.

  I mean, it wasn’t fair. Really.

  I mean, I was happy I got rid of my bad luck. But Cory still had his good-luck charm. Cory still had all the good luck.

  That meant I was going to lose today. Lose the game and lose my last chance for the scholarship.

  “Anything wrong?” Cory’s question broke into my thoughts.

  “No. No problem,” I said. I grabbed the big helmet and started to pull it over my hair. “This thing weighs a ton.”

  Cory started to answer. But Coach Taylor stepped up to his locker. “Cory, would you do me a favor? I left my playbook in my office on the second floor. Would you run up and get it for me?”

  “Sure,” Cory said. He pulled a jersey down over the shoulder pads. Then he took off toward the locker-room door.

  I set my helmet back on the bench. I saw that I hadn’t tightened the laces on my football cleats. I sat down and started to work on them.

  My eyes stopped on the object on the floor. A claw. Cory’s claw. He didn’t put it back. It must have fallen off the bench.

  My brain started to whir. Thoughts flashed through my mind like comets. All kinds of thoughts. Including evil thoughts.

  The claw sat inches away from me. I gazed around. No one was looking. Most of the other guys had already run out to the football field.

  I picked up Cory’s claw. I rubbed my fingers over it.

  Should I do it? Should I?

  I couldn’t resist.

  Cory was my friend. But I really needed to outplay him today.

  I raised the claw to my mouth and kissed it.

  Then I turned it over and kissed the back.

  Then I kissed both sides again. Then I planted kisses all over it.

  All those kisses got it a little wet. I dried it off on the front of my football jersey. Then I placed it back on the floor exactly where it had fallen.

  Did I feel bad about what I just did?

  Not really. If the claw brought Cory a little bad luck this afternoon, it would just even things up. You know. Make it more fair.

  I pulled the helmet over my head and started to the door. Cory burst in, and we almost collided.

  “Good game,” he said.

  “You, too,” I said.

  We bumped knuckles. And I trotted out to the field.

  Coach Taylor divided us up into Team Offense and Team Defense. After ten or fifteen minutes, we switched teams.

  Cory and Laura played on Team Offense at first. I was on Team Defense.

  I readied myself. Clenched my jaw. Tightened every muscle. I was totally psyched.

  I leaned into position and stretched my arms out at my sides. No one was going to get past me. No one.

  Cory started as quarterback for Team Offense. On the first play, he handed the ball to Gray Haddox. Gray burst through the line for a few yards. Then he was swarmed on and tagged by three or four players on my team.

  On the next play, Cory dropped back to pass. I shot through the line, waving my hands above my head. I grabbed him around the waist. “You’re tagged.”

  Coach Taylor blew his whistle. He pointed at me. “No tackling!”

  I shrugged my shoulder pads. “That was a tag,” I said.

  I felt good. Taylor saw how enthusiastic I was. And he saw me make a really good play on Cory.

  One point for Lee Hargrove.

  The coach whistled for us to start play again.

  This time, Cory kept the ball and ran to the other side, away from me. I rocketed across the field. Reached out for him … reached…

  …And just missed him.

  He ran for a touchdown.

  Score one for Lucky Duckworth.

  Cory’s team took the ball on offense again. Some kids had gathered on the sidelines to watch the contest.

  I leaned into my defensive stance. I readied myself. Focus, I told myself. Stay alert. Focus. You can do this. You can win this.

  Cory tossed the ball to Laura. She tore through the line, zigzagged like crazy, and ran for about twenty yards.

  Not bad. Especially for a girl.

  There were four girls in the game. Four girls trying for the scholarship. All of them had done pretty well in bowling and tennis. But Laura was the best of the four.

  Did she have a chance to win and go to Sports Camp?

  Well, yes. She had a chance. Of course, she had a small chance.

  Did I still have a chance? If I made a few more really awesome plays, the answer would be yes.

  I’d score some points with Coach Taylor for playing well. And if I could score enough sportsmanship points and Most Improved points, I could definitely win the prize.

  I tensed myself. Forced myself to breathe slowly, steadily. Kept my eyes moving.

  Superstar time. All-pro time. KILLER time.

  On the next play, Cory kept the ball. He cut left, then cut right. He had the ball tucked tightly under his arm and his helmet lowered. And he was thundering in a straight line — right at me!

  I stuck out my arms. Lowered my helmet. Tightened my stance.

  Ready to tag him. Ready for him as he ran toward me. Ready.

  “OWWWWWWWWOOOOOO.”

  Was that me shrieking like that? Did I hear him shrieking, too?

  The pain rocketed from my head down my body. A tidal wave of throbbing, hammering pain.

  Everything went black even before I hit the ground.

  “What happened?”

  My voice came out in a hoarse whisper. I struggled to see but everything was a blur. It hurt to raise my head. I lowered it to the grass.

  Someone had removed my helmet. It lay a few feet away from me.

  “Am I alive?” I croaked.

  Coach Taylor appeared above me. “I think you’re okay. Let’s try to sit you up.”

  He pushed me from behind. I groaned. But the pain was starting to fade.

  The ground tilted down. The trees beyond the playground wouldn’t come into focus.

  I saw Cory sitting across from me, his legs spread. His helmet was off, and he kept shaking his head.

  “Whoa,” he murmured. “Whoa.”

  “What happened?” I asked Coach Taylor. “Was it an earthquake or something?”

  “You two butted heads,” Taylor said. “You went down and Laura picked up the ball and scored a touchdown.”

  I squinted past him. Laura stood in a line with the other players. She still had the football in her hands. Everyone looked really frighte
ned. No one made a sound.

  “We have to check you two out for concussions,” Taylor said. “Do you think you can walk back into the school?”

  It took a while to stand up. My head throbbed. I was totally dizzy.

  Cory took a few staggering steps. I could see he was dizzy, too.

  Coach Taylor helped us both into the locker room. “Get changed,” he said. “I’m taking you to a doctor to get you checked out.”

  Cory and I grunted replies.

  “Sorry, guys,” Taylor said. “That collision was really bad luck.” He turned and headed back outside.

  Bad luck.

  The words rang in my spinning, pulsing head.

  Bad luck.

  Well, I knew why Cory had bad luck. I gave it to him by kissing his vulture claw. I turned his claw into a bad-luck charm.

  But … why did I have such bad luck? I had thrown the claw in the trash.

  “Do you have your phone?” Cory asked. He rubbed his eyes. “I want to call my mom and tell her we’re going to see the doctor.”

  “Sure,” I said. I pulled my backpack out of the locker. I unzipped it and reached inside.

  I knew my cell phone was somewhere near the bottom.

  I fumbled around, pushing stuff out of the way.

  My hand wrapped around something tucked between two textbooks.

  I pulled it out — and stared in shock at my vulture claw.

  The doctor checked out Cory and me and said we were okay. No concussions. He said we might have headaches for a while.

  My headache got worse. I couldn’t stop thinking about the claw. Of course, one question kept repeating in my mind: How did it get from the trash can to the bottom of my backpack?

  It was all I could think about. And I couldn’t come up with an answer.

  I was still thinking about it on the morning of the Awards Assembly at school.

  Our school has the Awards Assembly in the auditorium every spring near the end of the school year. All kinds of awards are given out. Sports awards, academic awards, public service awards. There is even an award for the Best Smile.

  It was a tense morning for me. Because the winner of the Sports Camp scholarship was also being announced.

  Cory and I sat together near the back of the auditorium. We were both too tense to talk.

  I knew I hadn’t played well enough to win. But maybe I stood a chance. Maybe I scored points for Desire, and Enthusiasm, and Sportsmanship, and Improvement.

  Those could put me over the top.

  Cory and I kept glancing at each other as the awards were handed out and kids came to the stage to accept them. I could see that he was just as stressed as I was.

  We sat twitching and squirming through the Mayor’s Trophy for Most Litter Picked Up on the Playground. And the award for Loudest Singer in Music Class.

  I couldn’t sit still. My hands were sweaty and cold. My stomach kept growling and doing flip-flops.

  I nearly jumped when Ms. Lincoln, our principal, announced it was time to reveal the Sports Camp scholarship winner.

  I held my breath. I glanced at Cory. He had gone pale.

  “We have three finalists,” Ms. Lincoln said. “I’d like to call all three to the stage now.”

  I still hadn’t taken a breath. I was too tense to breathe!

  The principal read the list of names into the microphone: “Cory Duckworth … Laura Grodin … and …”

  And?

  “…Lee Hargrove.”

  Yes!

  I let my breath out in a long whoosh. My legs trembled as I climbed up from my seat and started down the long aisle to the stage.

  Cory stopped me in the wings. “Here. Take this,” he said. “For luck.”

  He pulled his vulture claw off and draped it around my neck.

  “No. Please —” I gasped. I tried to shove it back to him.

  “You need it more than I do,” Cory said. “You’re my best friend. I know how much you want this. Maybe it’ll bring you luck.”

  I frantically tried to hand the claw back to him. He didn’t know that I had kissed it. He was trying to do a nice thing. He didn’t know it was bad luck now.

  “Cory — take it back!” I cried. “Please —”

  I glanced up at the stage. Ms. Lincoln was staring down at us. She didn’t look happy.

  “Cory? Lee? What’s your problem?” she demanded. “You both have stage fright?”

  The whole auditorium burst into laughter.

  I had no choice. I followed Cory onto the stage. The bad-luck claw hung heavy on my neck. No way to give it back to him.

  So there we were. Cory, Laura, and I standing in a line onstage in front of the whole school. Talk about awkward. I couldn’t decide where to put my hands. Finally, I jammed them into my jeans pockets.

  The vulture claw dangled over my chest. I wanted to rip it off and toss it away.

  But how could I? Cory wouldn’t understand. He would never forgive me.

  The principal was saying something about how sorry she was she had only one scholarship to hand out. I couldn’t really hear her. I couldn’t hear anything over the beating of my heart.

  Just tell us who won! I thought. Don’t make a speech.

  Please tell us the winner!

  Was Cory as nervous as me? I turned to him — and gasped.

  I took a staggering step back.

  As I stared in horror, Cory’s face … his whole body started to change.

  Black feathers poked out of his arms. Feathers uncurled all over his skin.

  His body shifted and grew taller. His neck stretched as his head appeared to tighten … tighten like a fist.

  His blue eyes disappeared into his face. His mouth vanished, too. Vanished under black feathers. And a long, curved beak poked out of his head.

  His jeans dropped away. I could see his feathery legs. Thick gray and black feathers covered his whole body. His arms folded up. Folded into wide, flapping wings.

  Cory opened his beak in a long, hoarse honk.

  His body grew until he loomed over me. I stood frozen in his shadow. The shadow of a gigantic vulture.

  He squawked again. The sound sent chills to the back of my neck.

  Then Cory lowered his vulture head. Two tiny black eyes glared at me from over the long, curved beak. The beak opened and snapped at my face.

  Snapped. Snapped again. Ripped at my cheeks. He raised his huge wings and dove for my throat.

  I raised both arms to shield myself. Did he plan to tear me apart?

  I staggered back. I opened my beak and let out a shrill squawk of rage. I raised my wings and —

  Huh?

  I lowered my gaze. I shrieked my surprise. I was a vulture, too. I had changed without even realizing it. Without even feeling it!

  I narrowed my eyes at the Cory vulture. My feathers stood on end. I stretched my wings back and lowered my head. Ready to attack.

  He dove at me. But I dodged to the side. I drove my sharp beak deep into his throat.

  He raised his head in a hoarse cry of pain. Then he leaped high and shot his talons into my feathered chest.

  It knocked me off-balance. I toppled onto my side, and he dove on top of me.

  We wrestled on the stage floor, squawking and tearing at each other.

  I could hear the horrified screams and cries of the kids in the auditorium.

  This is going to be an assembly they’ll never forget! I thought.

  Cory ripped at my chest feathers with his sharp talons. I gave a hard twist — and shoved him off me.

  Then I opened my beak and aimed for his throat.

  Got to kill him! I told myself. Only way to win this fight. Kill! KILL!

  A week later, Cory and I were walking down my street. School was over, and we were still getting used to having the whole day free.

  It was a warm day. The air smelled like fresh-cut grass. Bright green leaves were starting to open on the trees.

  Cory laughed and shook his head. “I can’t bel
ieve you and I had a wrestling match on the auditorium stage.”

  “In front of the whole school,” I added. “Did you see the look on Ms. Lincoln’s face? She was so shocked, she froze. She couldn’t move!”

  “I didn’t see her,” Cory said. “I was too busy trying to fight you off.”

  We both laughed. We had to laugh about it. Otherwise, it would be too embarrassing.

  “We actually tried to kill each other,” I said. “I totally thought you had turned into a giant vulture.”

  “How weird is that?” Cory said. “I didn’t know why you were fighting me. I just thought you freaked out.”

  “We were lucky it was the last week of school,” I said. “Otherwise, we would have been sent home. Suspended.”

  We walked another block in silence. Some kids were tossing a red Frisbee in front of a house on the corner. Two dogs stood in the driveway barking at each toss.

  “How did you get rid of that claw?” Cory asked.

  “Rode my bike to the other side of town and dropped them both in a sewer,” I said.

  “Huh? I gave you my claw. You tossed it away?” Cory said.

  “Your claw was bad luck, too,” I told him. “Didn’t you figure that out? They were both bad luck.”

  “Hey — there’s Laura,” he said, pointing.

  She stood at the bottom of her driveway. Next to her, I saw two suitcases, a rolled-up sleeping bag, and some other junk.

  She waved as Cory and I walked closer. “How’s it going?” she called.

  We stopped at the edge of her driveway. I glanced down the street. “You waiting for the Sports Camp bus?”

  She nodded. “I’m so excited.”

  “Yeah. You’re going to have fun,” I said.

  I tried to sound cheerful. I didn’t want her to think I was bitter about the whole thing.

  But Laura only won the scholarship because Cory and I fought onstage and were disqualified.

  The yellow camp bus rumbled up to us and stopped. A driver in a gray uniform climbed down and started to load Laura’s stuff into the luggage compartment.

  “Well, bye,” she said. She started to the bus. “See you in the fall.”