Free Touchdown for Tommy by Matt Christopher

1
    T ommy Fletcher zipped up his black-sleeved gray jacket. He tugged on his baseball hat and stepped out of the warm house. The
     late September wind was bending the tall oak tree in the backyard. The clothes on the line whipped like a string of white
     flags.
    A slip of green paper on the short-cut grass caught Tommy’s eye. A ten-dollar bill!
    Tommy picked it up. The money must belong either to Betty or Mrs. Powell. The three of them had been hanging the clothes out
     on the line earlier.
    The last time Tommy remembered havingten dollars was long ago. Back in January sometime, before the terrible accident. Back when his parents had still been alive,
     before their car hit that icy patch of road.
    But he was in a foster home now. Since he didn’t have any living relatives, he had been brought by the child welfare department
     to live with the Powells. The Powells were very nice, but they didn’t give him money the way his parents used to.
    Tommy thought for a while. He decided that the ten-dollar bill wouldn’t be missed by anybody. If it had been missed, Betty
     or her mother would have come looking for it.
    Tommy put the money into his pocket. He walked down the long cement pavement to the highway. The only nearby store was over
     by the school. On both sides of the highway were houses — old houses and new houses. They were painted white, blue, green,
     andother colors. They were pretty, much prettier than the house Tommy had lived in in the city.
    He passed two of the houses. Soon he heard the excited voices of boys. He knew at once what the cries meant.
    The kids were playing football!
    He started to run. I hope David is there, he said to himself. David Warren was the only boy in the whole bunch that he liked.
    He ran past the store. Maybe he’d spend the money when he came back. A cold soda would taste good after playing a game of
     touch football.
    Then his heart sank. He had forgotten to tell Mrs. Powell where he was going!
    But why do I always have to tell her? he asked himself. I never used to tell my mother.
    Well, it was too late to turn back now. Hewould tell Mrs. Powell when he got home. She wouldn’t mind that he had forgotten just this once.
    He turned to the right at the intersection. Up the road a little way was Barton Central School. Just this side of it was the
     large athletic field. The high school team had their own field, and the kids under thirteen had theirs.
    The football field for the younger boys was all laid out like the high school field except that it was smaller. Instead of
     being one hundred yards long, it was eighty yards long. The bleachers were only on one side.
    Tommy stopped running when he reached the field. Neither of the two teams had more than five or six players each. Maybe he
     would be given a chance to play.
    He spotted David immediately. David wore shoulder pads under his yellow jersey and a red-and-white helmet. He was playingquarterback. The ball was on the thirty-two-yard line, and David’s team had possession.
    David barked signals. “Ten! Fifteen! Twenty-one!”
    The ball spiraled up from the center. David caught it, tucked it under his arm, and sped around the left end. He made a gain
     of five yards before he was tackled.
    As he rose to his feet, he spied Tommy. A grin spread across his face.
    “Hi, Tommy! You want to play?”
    “Sure!”
    “Come on our side! They have one more player than we do!”
    Tommy took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed them together. “Can I play end?”
    “Okay. Play left end.”
    David motioned his team into a huddle. “Think you can catch a pass?” he asked Tommy.
    “I think so,” said Tommy.
    “Okay. We’ll pull a surprise on ’em,” David said. “I’ll throw Tommy a pass. The number is forty-two. Let’s go!”
    The team broke out of the huddle. The backfield and linemen moved into position. Tommy crouched at left end and looked directly
     into the eyes of the end playing opposite him.
    “Twenty-two!