It was said that Josh Rabin had broken up more attacks than any of his contemporaries in the Public School League. Less well publicized was that in his years as fullback for Central High’s soccer team, he had never received a warning from a referee. In fact, no one could remember when last he had committed a foul. He liked to think of soccer as performance art.

He would have been a fan of professional soccer too, had the game enjoyed the status of football and hockey. Since it didn’t, he’d settled for hockey, because it bore a certain resemblance.

His date had shown him the bright side. Hockey was an easier conduit to Eden.

~~~~~~~~~~

A good night’s sleep restored Eden’s ability to think. She figured it was a matter of time before Josh would want to talk about soccer, maybe invite her to see him play. She could do herself a favor by learning the game. The challenge was doing it so casually that no one would ask about her sudden interest. Watching team practice seemed less risky than making a special trip to see a game. To her dismay, when she got to the field that afternoon, she encountered half a dozen girls who recognized her, and one of them was Debbie. It was too late to retreat.

“Hi, look who’s here!” Debbie greeted her loudly enough for all to hear.

“Hi,” Eden answered cheerily. “Are you waiting for Josh?”

“No, he knows the way home. At least, he used to, but right now maybe he could use a guiding hand. We’re worried he may sleepwalk to someone else’s house by mistake.”

“Whose house, and who are ‘we’ that worry about him?”

“Your guess is as good as mine about whose house ― maybe better. ‘We’ are his family.”

“You’re being too mysterious for me. If it’s not Josh you’re waiting for, who is it?”

A knowing smile creased Debbie’s face. “You.”

“I only decided about five minutes ago,” Eden lied. “You must be a mind reader.”

Debbie stuck out her face and showed her teeth. “Some women have more intuition than others. He’s over there.” She pointed to the opposite end of the field.

Eden looked downfield and recognized Josh. Tall and slender in blue shorts and yellow shirt, legs slightly apart, knees bent, as another player dribbled the ball toward him. She had never paid attention to his legs before, even though he often wore shorts in the summer.

“I’m sorry. You said something?” She realized Debbie was speaking.

“That’s Mike Wharton with the ball. Star striker.”

“How do you know all those guys?” Eden asked.

“Living in the same house with a soccer player. You learn the game and the players. You cheer for the home team, boo the opposition.” Eden laughed, remembering the hockey game.

“What’s funny?” Debbie asked.

“Never mind.”

By this time Mike was almost on top of Josh. Eden waited anxiously for the collision. But there was none. Mike veered sharply to his right, and immediately Josh veered even more sharply to his left, stole the ball, and tapped it gently up field. Eden could not hear the coach’s words, but she did see Mike give a thumbs-up sign to Josh before turning to retrieve the ball.

“I know nothing about soccer,” Eden said, “but Josh looks pretty good too.”

“In all kinds of ways,” Debbie said. One of the other girls giggled.

“Hey, wait a minute!” Eden raised her voice. “What’s going on here?”

Instead of answering, Debbie took Eden by the arm and led her off the field. “Was it really me you were waiting for?” Eden asked.

“Let’s wait till we’re out of here,” Debbie answered, quickening her pace. “I didn’t start out being an eavesdropper, but when Mom and Dad talk with their door open, I don’t cover my ears either. Last night she said something about Josh acting strange.”

“Strange, how?” Eden asked, aiming for the right degree of interest.

“Found him sitting in the car.”

“God, was something wrong?” Eden was truly alarmed now and unable to hide it.

“No. He’d just been dreaming. The engine was off. I missed most of what came after that, but then Dad laughed and said something about a girlfriend. Of course, you can just tell me to butt out.” Debbie was looking in front of her, the faintest hint of amusement in her eyes.

“So you came to see for yourself, is that it?” Suddenly Debbie struck her as a gossip.

“It was sheer accident that I overheard them, believe me. Now you’re mad at me, and I don’t want that. Just try to forget everything I said and I promise to say no more about it.”

Eden’s anger melted away as fast as it had arisen. Of course Debbie was not to blame. A titillating fragment of conversation had fallen on her ears, and she had had the decency not to make a public display, other than those ambiguous remarks at the practice field.

“I’m sorry, Debbie. I shouldn’t have blown up. I don’t know why I’m so touchy.”

Debbie looked at her expectantly.

“So what was I doing at the soccer field?” Eden saved Debbie the question “I guess I just wanted to see.” Debbie said nothing.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” Now Debbie’s silence was bothering her more than her teasing. But Debbie had no desire to hurt her friend. Her expression became serious.

“I wish you’d never got sick. We’re the same age and you’re a year behind me. It makes me feel older when I’m not, and sometimes I seem to be offending you when I don’t want to. We used to enjoy teasing each other. Now it doesn’t feel safe.”

“Don’t feel that way. It’s not your fault I had to repeat the year. You could have walked away from me and you didn’t, and I’ll never forget that. I’m sure your classmates are more interesting company than I am. But I hope we can always be friends.”

They linked arms. “Classmates are OK for shop talk, but that doesn’t make them friends. You’re much more fun to be with.”

Eden’s heart skipped a beat. Was that a standard expression among the Rabins?

“Debbie, can I trust you?”

“Of course.”

Eden took a deep breath. “Maybe it’s just as well you overheard. I’m not the kind of girl that boys drool over and I’m totally confused. I really loved the hockey game and I learned more than I ever thought. But there was something else. I’ve known Josh for ages, and it’s been strictly kid-next-door stuff. I’ve always liked him. He’s clever and funny. But this is the first time you weren’t there. It’s as if someone had thrown a switch, like people look different in different-color light. I felt it at the arena, and all we’d talked about was hockey! It was him, not anything he said. . . . This sounds crazy. You’d better stop me.” Debbie didn’t. “Then, at the deli he talked about something coming over him. Not that night but sometime before. He wanted to tell me about it, but it would take too long, so he took me home. He seemed so ― what’s the word? ― introspective. So different from all the other boys.”

Debbie allowed herself a smile. “So what happened?”

“We’d done nothing but talk all night. But when we were outside the deli, I just took his hand. It was as if my hand were acting all by itself and I wasn’t controlling it. And it felt so good I didn’t want to let go, but of course I had to when we got to the car.”

Debbie said nothing. “Later, when I was alone, I thought about what had happened, and I didn’t know what to do next. I couldn’t just call him. So I got the idea of going to soccer practice. Maybe by just watching him I’d get some idea. Boy, do I sound stupid! I sure feel stupid, following him around like a puppy, but I haven’t the faintest idea what to say to him.”

“You don’t need to worry,” Debbie said. “He’ll come to you.”

“How do you know?”

Debbie looked at her in astonishment. “Good Lord, what do you think he was dreaming about when Mom dug him out of the garage?”

“I guess that makes sense. Does all this sound crazy to you?”

“Ah, love! It must be wonderful.”

“Oh come on. You know it’s nothing like that. I mean, what can he possibly see in me?”

“I’m happy for you, Edie, I really mean that. Who cares what you call it? You obviously have something he likes. Give him time and he’ll tell you what. Let me tell you something about Josh. You know, he and I, we’re always insulting each other, but it’s always in fun. To tell the truth, I’ve always liked him, just like you have, and even looked up to him. Now I hope I can trust you, because if this gets back to him I’ll be so embarrassed I’ll die.”

“I won’t tell him, not a word,” Eden said.

“This thing he talks about, he calls it becoming more human. I like that too. I don’t quite understand it, but whatever it is, it’s making him more serious and more respectful.”

“Do you think it has to do with growing up, like maturing?”

“That’s probably got something to do with it,” Debbie answered thoughtfully. “I’m really going to miss him when he goes off to college. If he goes out of town.”

Eden felt a pang of bereavement. It took her several seconds to steady her voice. “If Josh and I were to go out again, how would your parents feel about that?”

“My parents? They’ve always liked you and I can’t imagine they’d object the least bit. Josh is certainly old enough to have a girlfriend, and who could be better than you?”

“But I’m not even sixteen.”

“Even if my parents thought that was a problem, they’d trust your parents to deal with it. I’ll tell you one thing. If I had a boy I felt about the way you seem to feel about Josh, and my parents objected, I’d give them a hard time.”

Eden laughed. “It’s only been one date, you know!”

“OK, maybe it’s too soon to call it anything, but it sure sounds like it to me.”

“That’s a lot of “its.” Care to define them one by one?”

“Self-evident. Anyway, we ought to get a bus, else we’ll end up walking all the way and missing dinner. Shall I tell him you were at soccer? I doubt that he saw you.”

“No. . . . On second thought, you could mention it casually and see what he says.”

“I promised to keep your confidence, not to be your spy! . . .OK, just this once.”

Josh came home an hour after them and dropped his bag at the bottom of the stairs.

“I saw you at the field. You left early. Did you get bored?”

“See one practice session, you’ve seen ’em all.” She faked a yawn.

“Hah-hah. What was Edie doing there? I didn’t know she was interested in soccer.”

“Maybe she is,” Debbie said with a deadpan expression. He realized she wasn’t going to give him an opening, and he was of no mind to give her one. He would have been shocked to learn how much knowledge Debbie was privy to. In any case, if Eden were now interested in soccer — for whatever reason — that gave him his next opening.

After dinner he called her.

“Hi, Josh,” she said, in a voice whose subtle breathlessness was not lost on Karen. Eden wondered whether he had seen her at soccer practice. Or perhaps Debbie had betrayed her confidence? No, that couldn’t be. Josh’s voice cut into her thoughts.

“We’re playing Germantown High this Saturday. Soccer. Want to come? Now that you’re an expert on hockey, maybe you’d like to compare.”

“I’d love to.” She answered with such alacrity that her mother must surely have noticed. Karen inconspicuously left the room.

“Seems like one thing leads to another.” Eden wondered how he would interpret that. “First hockey because it’s like skating, then soccer because it’s like hockey. What’s next?”

“Football,” he answered cheerily. “Also uses a leather ball. You’d enjoy meeting Truck.”

“Truck? You call each other by your last names?”

“That isn’t his last name, nor his first either. His name’s Mack Rogers, and he’s huge.”

“Good grief!” she groaned. “I bet he’s real proud of that name.”

“He has this habit of coming at you as if his brakes didn’t work. But he’s a good guy.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it seriously.”

Josh laughed. “It’s OK. He doesn’t take offense. Anyway, come over about one. You can go with Debbie. I have to go to the field early.”

“I’m going to be quite a sports expert before we’re finished!”

“I saw you at practice,” he said.

“An impulse. I know as much about soccer as I did about hockey before you explained.”

“What got you interested?” As he feared, there was no answer. “Are you still there?”

“I’m here.” She pulled herself together. “Soccer means such a lot to you, I thought I should learn something so I won’t feel so dumb when you talk about it.”

By now he had recovered sufficiently not to ask any more. “I hope you like it.”

Eden sat with Debbie and Max. Debbie clearly knew soccer as well as Josh knew hockey. Brushing aside Eden’s apologies for her ignorance, she explained the essentials of the game.

Eden recognized the similarities that Josh had talked about. She also noticed a difference, the amount of time the ball was in the air and the players’ use of their heads.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” she asked as one player caught a thirty-yard kick on his forehead.

“They have extra thick skulls,” Debbie said. “Anyway, the ball is full of air, just—”

“—just like their heads. I understand.”

“Josh’ll be pleased with the quality of your instruction,” Max cut in, addressing Debbie.

“Just repeating what he told me when I asked him the same thing.”

At that moment, a corner kick was delivered straight into the Central goalmouth. With a leap, Josh caught the ball on his forehead and sent it to the far edge of the penalty area, where another Central player trapped it and took it up field. Debbie turned to Eden and said,

“See? He looks no worse than before.”

Eden thought Debbie’s humor hid a good deal of pride. A spectator was patting Max on the back. “Trust Rabin to save the home team! Too bad we won’t have him a couple of years from now.”

Eden felt Debbie’s eyes on her, but she kept hers firmly on the playing field.

The first half ended scoreless. Ten minutes into the second, Mike Wharton broke through the Germantown defense and scored. A noisy demonstration erupted in the stands as Mike’s father was mobbed by well-wishers. It seemed that every player had his personal fan club.

“It’s good to be a hero’s parent,” Eden observed. “What happens if a kid blunders?”

“Unless it’s a real important game, people feel sorry and don’t make a fuss.”

For the next ten minutes the play was mostly in midfield, neither team securing an advantage. But as the game began to wind down, the Germantown attack became more aggressive. A hard drive by one of their strikers toward the corner of the goal almost tied the game. But the Central goalkeeper, Frank Swift, diving headlong to his right, deflected the ball outside the goalpost. His save was warmly applauded, but the play was not over. For the ball, instead of crossing the goal line for a corner kick, was trapped by a Germantown wing, who cross-passed it in front of the prone goalkeeper. A second striker pounced on it and sent it scooting toward the empty net. With Swift hopelessly out of position, Josh, the defender closest to the goal, dove headlong and stopped the ball with his hands. The whistle blew.

The crowd was in an uproar. Most of them had never witnessed anything like it. There were cheers, catcalls, and heated discussion. The referee delivered a stern warning to Josh and held up a yellow card, then placed the ball on the penalty spot.

“Penalty shots always score,” Debbie said despondently. “I don’t know why he had to do such a stupid thing. He was close enough to kick it out.”

“Why do they always score?”

“Look. The ball’s twelve yards out, dead in the middle, and look at the size of the goal.”

Eden looked and understood why the goalkeeper was at such a disadvantage. Unless the shot came straight at him, he’d have to move one way or the other; and considering the speed of the ball, he’d have to know which way to move almost before it was kicked.

The penalty area was cleared. Out of a huddle a slightly built player emerged and began kicking the air as if testing whether his leg was securely attached.

“Oh boy.” Debbie’s tone was ominous.

“You know him too?” Eden asked.

“That’s Joe Matthews. He has incredible aim. Josh says he’s seen him hit a goalpost — deliberately — at fifty feet. That’s for practice. For real, he puts it two inches inside.”

Frank stood in the middle of the goal, his arms halfway outstretched to both sides, rocking from one leg to the other.

Joe backed away from the ball. He looked at Frank, then turned his head ever so slightly to the right. Frank prepared to dive to his left. Keeping his eye on the right upper corner, Joe began his run. This is too obvious, Frank thought. And indeed Joe, halfway down his run, threw a lightning glance to his left. Frank saw the movement and dove to his right as Joe’s foot struck. The ball sailed insolently into the unguarded opposite side of the goal.

“Stupidity!” Debbie was furious. “Stupid heroics!”

“It’s OK, Debbie,” Max tried to console her. “People make mistakes. Without Josh’s save, they’d have scored anyway. This way we had another chance.”

“Some chance!” she fired back. “He had Frank fooled so bad it wasn’t even funny.”

Several arguments were raging in the stands behind them. Josh’s reputation was balanced precariously between heroism and irresponsibility.

The visitors, revitalized by their equalizer, continued to press the offensive and scored two more times in the last ten minutes. Among the pundits in the stands Josh’s stock plunged. At last a long whistle signaled the end of the game. Families and friends streamed onto the field. The home team, heads down, made for the locker room as fast as they could.

“Come over for hot chocolate,” Max invited Eden. “As soon as Josh comes out.”

Debbie was still seething fifteen minutes later when Josh emerged, talking with two other players. Max waited for him to join them and they began the walk to the car.

“Tough luck,” Max said, putting a sympathetic arm on Josh’s shoulder.

“We shouldn’t have fallen to pieces like that,” Josh replied. “At least a tie.”

“You should have won,” Debbie said angrily, without looking at her brother. “They never got near your goal, not until that . . .” She left the sentence unfinished.

“You mean the penalty,” Josh said. Eden waited for the argument that was sure to follow. To her surprise there was none. She wondered if the family had a rule about recriminations. She felt better with a change of subject. “Tell me how the cards work.”

“Oh God, yes!” said Josh. “McDonough’s one of the dirtiest players of all time. He should be benched for life, or sent to prison. But your question. The penalty systems are different in soccer and hockey. . . .”  Josh explained the card system, yellow for caution, red for ejection. “It cuts down on fighting. Hockey could use a disincentive like that.”

“Maybe the fans would be disappointed,” Eden said.

“Yeah, they’d never come back.” Josh laughed.

They piled into the car and talked about other sports until they arrived at the Rabins’. Over snacks, Josh related matter-of-factly what had happened in the last minutes of the game.

“What a shame!” Esther said. “I wish I’d seen your save, it must have been spectacular. But the team folding because of a penalty goal. That I don’t understand. Everybody knows penalty shots are hard to stop.” My God! Eden thought. She too. “So why take it so badly?” Esther went on. “That goal was no dishonor, and the game was only tied. . . . Oh, I’m sorry, Josh. I shouldn’t be nagging you. I’m being insensitive.” She put her hand on his arm.

“It’s OK, Mom,” Josh said somewhat tiredly. “Maybe it was more them being fired up than us folding. We’ll hear all about it from the coach. Maybe he’ll have it figured out.”

Eden heard the despondency in Josh’s voice. She would have liked to say something to comfort him, but she was afraid of Debbie. Who knows, in her present state Debbie might blurt out something like, “Well, of course you’re going to take his side.” Debbie was looking sullenly at her plate and chewing ever so slowly ― not a person to reason with.

As Eden went to get her coat, Max came up behind her and said softly: “Thanks, Edie.”

“For what?” she asked, surprised.

“The way you redirected the conversation was brilliant. Debbie was really going after Josh. Sometimes she’s hard to stop. She takes his games more seriously than he does.”

“Oh, Mr. Rabin,” Eden answered, embarrassed, “I wasn’t being brilliant. I don’t even know enough about soccer to argue. Especially with Debbie knowing so much more than me. It just seemed that he shouldn’t have to take the blame for losing the game.”

“I think he’d appreciate hearing that from you.”

Eden swung round in alarm. “I don’t dare to say anything in front of Debbie. She’s so angry, and she’ll think I’m taking sides against her. I don’t want that.”

Max stared at her bemused for a few seconds.

“Ask him to walk you home. It’s almost dark. Or wait, I’ll ask him.”

Eden tried to read Max’s expression. What was he trying to do? Make Josh feel better about the game or give him a half hour alone with his “girlfriend”? Of course, she didn’t need to know Max’s motives; the result was all she cared about.

They had barely gone twenty paces before she said, “You know, this was your dad’s idea. I didn’t even pretend to object, but do you think he’s trying to get us together?”

“He doesn’t know about our talk at the deli,” he said. “Maybe he’s just observant.” Or maybe Mom told him about the garage incident. But I’m not going to tell Eden, not yet.

Only after she heard his answer did Eden realize her question was predicated on Debbie’s eavesdropping. She really would have to watch her step. “Scientists have to be.”

“In matters like that, Mom’s a better observer. But Dad’s right, a girl needs an escort at this time of night.” She laughed and impulsively took his hand. “I don’t know whether he thinks he’s on to something,” he went on, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, “but as long as he comes up with suggestions like this, I don’t mind. Do you?”

“He cornered me at the coat rack and thanked me for saving the conversation. I didn’t like the way Debbie was beating up on you, but I didn’t dare to come right out and say it.”

“All she said was we should have won.”

“That’s all you heard her say. You should have heard her in the stands.”

Josh stopped and laughed out loud. “Oh, how I wish I had!” he exclaimed. “Tell me.”

“No, I won’t. If she wants you to hear it she’ll have to tell you herself.”

“Dear Debbie,” he said. “You’d think it was her team. But then, it is her school, isn’t it?”

“Don’t you think it has more to do with her brother being on the team?”

“Oh, I guess so.” He was more serious now. “That kind of play doesn’t come up often. All I saw was the ball heading for the net, and I didn’t think I could reach it with my foot. So I acted on reflex. I don’t know if it was right or wrong. Some of the guys were pretty teed off. They felt the same as Debbie. But the coach told them to cool it. We’ll go over it next week.”

They resumed walking.

“Didn’t anyone tell you it was the only thing you could do? Nobody spoke up for you?”

“No. But remember, we lost, and we lost big. They have to be thinking that my play was where things started to fall apart.”

“But that’s so unreasonable!” Eden was angry. “First you save a sure goal, and it wasn’t your fault the penalty shot scored. Then the team comes apart at the seams, and they’re blaming you for that?”

Josh disengaged his hand, took hers and drew it under his arm.

“Is this OK?” he asked as they walked on.

“Yes,” she said softly, pulling his arm toward her. “I think it was a marvelous play — even though I might be a little biased. Why, even talking for the school, I could say that with a little luck on the penalty you would have won. And all because you saved the tying goal.”

He made no immediate response, so she said, “But the school isn’t all that important.”

“Edie?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks for coming.”

“I’m so glad I did. And except for you feeling bad and having to take a bum rap, I don’t care that the team lost. Am I being disloyal?”

“Yes, you are. What’s worse, I’m being disloyal, because right now I don’t feel all that upset about losing either. After walking with you and talking about it, and . . .” pulling on her arm, “I think I can take whatever the coach wants to hand out.”

“I hope he isn’t hard on you.”

“It doesn’t matter. It was worth it.”