Rebel Glory by Sigmund Brouwer Read Free Book Online Page A

from the duffel bag in Jason’s stall, then returned our skates to the right places. Since I’d put on my skates, I had assumed it was my equipment too.
    I turned to Jason. “So you wore my equipment and I wore yours,” I said. “I’m glad today wasn’t the day you had cockroaches.”
    Again, no one laughed.
    Coach Blair walked into the dressing room. He frowned at the strange tension in the room.
    “Guys?” he asked.
    Nobody replied. I was the only one standing.
    “McElhaney?” Coach Blair asked.
    I shrugged. I had no idea what was happening.
    Hog Burnell broke the silence.
    “Coach,” Hog said, “remember when I lost my wallet last week?”
    Coach Blair suddenly became suspicious. “Yes, I remember.”
    “And remember how you told me not to tell anyone? To keep my eyes open in case it showed up?”
    “I remember that too,” Coach Blair said. “We weren’t going to accuse anyone here of stealing it. Not without good reason. What are you trying to say, Hog?”
    Hog pointed at Jason and let him reply.
    “Coach,” Jason said, “I found it in this duffel bag. I thought it was my duffel bag, and when I went into the side pocket to find my comb, I found Hog’s wallet.”
    “Oh,” Coach said. He asked the question he didn’t want to ask. He asked the question I didn’t want to hear. “Whose duffel bag?”
    “McElhaney’s,” Jason said.
    Coach looked at me and gave a grin. It wasn’t much of a grin. “I’m sure there’s a good explanation,” Coach said.
    I tried to think of a good explanation. But I didn’t have time.
    Louie Shertzer spoke. His voice was angry. “Coach, you didn’t tell me Hog’s wallet had been stolen too.”
    Coach Blair sighed. He hadn’t taken his eyes off me, and he still didn’t as he answered Shertzer. “No, I didn’t, Louie. I didn’t want the team knowing that someone had been stealing.”
    “My wallet too!” Mancini said. “I had fifty bucks in it. Remember, Coach?”
    Coach finally turned his head away from me and looked back at Jason. “Did you find anything else in McElhaney’s duffel bag?”
    “Shertzer’s wallet,” Jason said. “And Mancini’s. None of the wallets had any money left in them.”
    “Guys, it wasn’t me,” I said. I felt like throwing up at the way they were all looking at me. “I swear it wasn’t me. I didn’t—”
    Coach Blair cut me off. “McElhaney, we need to talk. Now.”
    Nobody said a word as I followed Coach Blair out of the dressing room.
    I didn’t feel like much of a team leader. And I doubted I had done much to bring the guys together for our final stretch of games.

chapter eleven
    “Coach Blair, I didn’t steal those wallets,” I said, not even waiting until I was completely inside his office.
    He shut the door behind me. He moved to his desk and sat in the chair behind it, still wearing his hockey skates.
    “It looks bad, McElhaney. Real bad.”
    “I did not put those wallets there.” I was too scared to be mad. My words felt like a waterfall of marbles dropping from my mouth. “Someone else must have. I would never steal from—”
    “You’re not listening,” he said. “It looks bad. Whether you stole those wallets or not, we’ve got a real problem.”
    “Coach?”
    He rubbed his face with both hands. While I waited for him to speak, I stared at a photo on the edge of his desk of his pretty blond wife with their baby boy.
    “McElhaney,” he finally said, “I really want to believe you.”
    He watched my face. He probably saw I was thinking he wanted to believe me. Not he did believe me.
    “I’m sorry,” he said seconds later. “What I meant is I do believe you. Someone else put those wallets there.”
    He had apologized too late, though. It hurt. The Henrys. Coach. Did I keep to myself so much that no one felt they knew me enough to trust me?
    “Someone else did,” I insisted. I was starting to be less scared now and more mad. Who was trying to get me? And why?
    “Don’t you see?”