Free Coach Amos by Gary Paulsen Page A

took a deep breath, threw his shoulders back, and marched through the door like a condemned man.
    “Close the door, Mr. Binder.” Ms. Fishbeck’s glasses slipped down her nose, and she watched Amos over the top of them.
    Amos pointed at the door. “This door? This one right here? You don’t want this door closed, Ms. Fishbeck—because—because—of the poor circulation. That’s it.People really should have more incoming fresh air and—”
    “CLOSE THE DOOR!”
    “Yes, ma’am.” Amos pushed the door. It slammed shut.
    “Mr. Binder.”
    Amos jumped back. “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Please have a seat.”
    Amos swiftly moved to the chair in front of her desk and perched on the edge. He started chewing what was left of the tatters of his fingernails.
    Ms. Fishbeck opened a notebook. She studied the contents. “Ummm-huh.” She tapped the ruler on the desk while she read.
    Amos looked out the window.
This is it
, he thought.
I’ll never see blue sky again. She’s thought of some awful punishment. Probably spit-shining the halls with a Q-tip. No, I bet it’s worse—the toilets in the boys’ gym.
    “Mr. Binder, I like to consider myself a fair person. I’ve reviewed your case from every possible angle and still cannot make sense of what happened here this morning.”
    Amos stood. He put one hand in hisjacket and paced the floor, lawyer style. “It’s really very simple, Ms. Fishbeck. You see, I had a personal phone call and was on my way to answer it, when—”
    “SIT DOWN!”
    Amos lunged for the chair.
    “Mr. Binder.” Ms. Fishbeck started the tapping again. “You may not be aware of this, but you have set a record—for the most public property destroyed in the least amount of time.”
    Amos chewed his lip. “That’s not good, is it?”
    “No. It isn’t. The school district frowns on this sort of behavior. It sets a bad example for the rest of the students. I have discussed your case with the school board, and we have agreed on your punishment.”

Amos backed out of Ms. Fishbeck’s office. “Yes, ma’am. Right away. You can count on me. You won’t be sorry.” He turned, grabbed Dunc’s arm, and pulled him out to the hall.
    “How did it go?” Dunc asked. “I didn’t hear any screaming.”
    “You sound disappointed.”
    “What did she do to you?”
    “She told me I was a bad example. She wants me to do something for the school district to help pay for the damages and to set a good example for the other students.”
    “What?”
    “Well, it sort of involves you.”
    Dunc stopped. “Wait a minute. I didn’t trash the office. I wasn’t even around.”
    “I know. But I told Ms. Fishbeck that since you were my best friend, I was sure you’d want to help me in this little project. She was thrilled that you would volunteer.”
    “Amos, I didn’t volunteer. I don’t even know what you’re doing. And besides, you said if I went in the office with you, you’d never ask me for anything else—in your whole life.”
    Amos waved his hand. “Details. Here’s the deal. The school board agrees to let me off without paying anything if I—no, I mean
we
—agree to coach one of the district’s T-ball teams.”
    Dunc stared at him for a few minutes. Then he turned and walked down the hall and out the double doors to the bicycle rack.
    When Amos finally caught up with him, Dunc was halfway home. He pedaled up next to him. “You
are
going to help me with this, aren’t you?”
    “Amos, T-ball means kids. Little kids. And parents. Big, pushy parents. Didn’t she give you any other choices?”
    “Well, she did say something about detention hall until I graduate from college. But this seemed better.”
    “When are you supposed to start?”
    “
We
start tomorrow. Our team’s first game is in a week.”
    Dunc pedaled up an incline. “Do you know anything about T-ball?”
    “Sure. You put a ball on this thing, and then you hit it and run around the bases. Easy.”
    Dunc coasted into his