Free Gracie by Suzanne Weyn Page B

tired, too. She stood there that day watching us for another few minutes, and then she headed off for her second job at the hospital. In a way, this training was as hard on her as it was on Dad and me, maybe harder. I knew that if I succeeded— when I succeeded—I’d owe the success as much to her as to Dad.
    That evening, Mike was setting up our frozen dinners on TV trays when I came into the room. “Dad found the movie reel with Pelé on it,” he told me.
    Instantly my mind flashed to the poster of the soccer star that had hung in Johnny’s room. Dad had told me he’d once seen Pelé play and had filmed part of the game, though I’d never seen the actual film.
    We got our suppers and Dad began the movie. Daniel banged my shoulder when Pelé came on. “See him?”

    â€œKeep watching,” Dad said to me. On the screen, Pelé was tracking a much bigger opponent. The player knocked him down, but Pelé sprang back up, stole the ball, and scored.
    â€œPelé wasn’t tall or fast, but he had it up here,” Dad said, tapping his forehead. “And he had it in here,” he added, pointing to his heart. “He made the impossible possible.” He turned his attention back to the screen. “Look how he absorbs that guy’s energy and turns it on him!”
    Dad got up and began to pace as he watched Pelé in action. “In every game there’s one moment when one player can change everything. Di momento de gracia. ”
    Dad rewound the film and gestured for me to come beside him so we could look at it together. This time he ran the scene of Pelé taking the ball from the larger player in slow motion. “Right there, when that guy hesitates…that’s the moment, when everything sets up perfect and then pauses. Pelé feels it.”
    I watched again as Pelé scored and his teammates went wild with joy.
    â€œThe moment of grace,” Dad said. He turned to me. “It’s where you got your name.”
    I looked up at him, totally surprised. No one had ever told me that about my name before.
    He smiled at me. “It’s how I felt the day you were born. I knew that anything was possible.”
    And all the while I had thought he hadn’t even noticed.

    After I saw the film of Pelé, something clicked in my head. I got it. I saw what he was doing. Not that there wasn’t still a ton of work to do. It was fun, though, because everyone was helping me do it.
    Peter came over every day and worked just with me or with me and Dad. He stopped going easy on me, and I wanted to think it was because he didn’t have to anymore.
    Mike and Daniel even wanted to practice with me. Mom wasn’t too crazy about it when Mike and I would stand at the top and bottom of the stairs, chucking the ball back and forth, or when Daniel and I would dribble it through the house, but she would only roll her eyes and walk through, deftly stepping over the ball.
    One day Dad even bought me my own pair of cleats. Both of us made sure not to get all mushy about it. But we both knew what it meant. I especially appreciated it because I knew money was so tight with Dad out of work.
    That night, I put Johnny’s cleats under my bed and tried on the new ones. They were a much better fit.
    Johnny’s hawk squawked from his cage. He seemed to approve of the new shoes. I got up and gave him a treat, noticing how big he’d grown. Soon he would be too big for the cage. I didn’t think he could fly yet. He only hopped around when I let him out of the cage. But I hadn’t tested him lately. I made a note to myself to make time to take him outside to see what he would do.

    The next morning, I came in to breakfast dribbling the ball between my feet. I was in a good mood and eager to begin the day’s practice session.
    Everyone but Mom was already at the table. The first thing I noticed was that Mike and Daniel weren’t fighting over