Coach Amos Read Free Page A

whole thing outlined. Go ahead. Tell me I’m wrong.”
    “Wrong.” Dunc closed the book. “I used blue ink.”

“It doesn’t mean anything.” Amos powered through a dip down the street from the hospital. He had figured out a way to tie the equipment bag across his handlebars. Turning wasn’t all that easy, but not being able to steer was better than getting mushy knees.
    “Of course it does,” Dunc argued. “Nobody says ‘be careful’ when they’re talking about a ball game. They say ‘good luck’ or ‘I hope you win,’ but they definitely don’t tell you to be careful.”
    “You forget, this guy knows our team.”
    “Coach Sanders was trying to tell ussomething, Amos, but for some reason he didn’t want to come right out and say it.”
    Amos jumped the curb in front of the elementary school. “The nurse said he was on a strong pain-killer and probably didn’t know what he was saying. He kept calling me Fred, or Ford, or something.”
    Dunc parked his bike. “It might be a good idea to wait a few days and go back when he’s a little more clear-headed.”
    “I’m telling you, it’s a waste of—”
    “
Pssst.
”
    Amos turned. A black limousine had pulled up alongside the curb, and a dark-tinted window snaked down a few inches. A finger motioned for Amos to come closer.
    “Don’t look now, Dunc, but I think we’re being paged.”
    Dunc grabbed the duffel bag. “Keep walking, Amos. Pretend like you don’t notice.”
    The car moved along the curb beside them. A raspy voice came from the car. “If you two know what’s good for you, you’ll forget the coaching and go on home. Ask Mr.Sanders what happens to people who mess with the organization.” The car window slid up, and the limousine sped off around the corner.
    They watched it until it was out of sight.
    Dunc pulled a small note pad out of his shirt pocket and started writing.
    “Shouldn’t we call the cops or something?” Amos asked. “What are you doing?”
    “I got the first two letters of the license plate. And I’m writing down a description of the car and everything that guy said so we can give it to the police once we’ve collected enough evidence.”
    “The guy threatened us. How much more evidence do you think they need?”
    “Amos, think about this logically. If we go report that some guy in a black limo threatened us because we coach T-ball, we’ll be the laughingstock of the whole town. We need to get something a little more solid. Find out what he’s up to.”
    “You’re out of your league this time, Dunc.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “I recognized that voice.”
    “You did? Amos that’s great. Who was it?”
    “The Godfather.”
    Dunc rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t the Godfather.”
    “How do you know?”
    “Trust me. It wasn’t him.”
    Amos took the duffel bag and started for his bike.
    “Where are you going?” Dunc asked. “The kids are waiting for us out on the field.”
    “I’m not taking any chances. You heard him. It’s not smart to mess with the ‘organization.’ We could wind up with cement shoes.”
    “Amos, there’s nothing to worry about. The whole thing was hokey. If that guy really wanted us to believe he was with the mafia, he should have hired a chauffeur. Who ever heard of a godfather who drives his own limo?”
    “You have a point there. Maybe he’s fallen on hard times.”
    Dunc shook his head. “Someone’s justtrying to scare us into quitting. Probably a parent from another team.”
    “I’m sure that’s it. The other teams are probably shaking in their cleats because we’re so good.” Amos threw the duffel bag over his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s really put a scare into them. Today we’ll teach our team where second base is.”

Sarah hit the ball. Then she quietly laid the bat down and looked up at Amos.
    “All right, Sarah. It’s okay to run now.” Amos looked out at first base. “Sparky, when Sarah hits the ball, you have to run to