Bernard Beagle Storms Ahead

By Daniel Murphy

Bernard Beagle is training harder than ever before. Winter has arrived and only six more games of the Bayview Tidal Waves' record-breaking season remain.

But right before school holidays, the unthinkable happens - Captain Cody is carted off the field in an ambulance.

That's not the only problem. Stormy weather is threatening to derai

• Language: English
• Publisher: Daniel Murphy
• Release date: Feb 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9780994567550

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

I’m standing on the edge of our defensive penalty area. The referee scratches his scruffy beard, a black whistle sticking out from his pudgy lips.

I wait.

Bayview Primary Tidal Waves are playing Moonlight Primary Wolves. My hands are fastened to my hips, scrunching my uniform’s dark-green material into two tight balls. With my front knee bent, I’m like a runner waiting for the starting gun.

Cody Fisher, the Tidal Waves’ captain, stands like me on the other side of the D. ‘Follow it in!’ he calls.

And hovering uneasily on the goal line is our new goalkeeper, Jack.

Moonlight’s penalty taker rolls the ball between his palms before placing it carefully on the spot.

I hold my breath.

The goalkeeper spreads his arms wide, waving them up and down like a star jumper.

The commentator lowers his voice. ‘No player has ever scored a penalty against this keeper,’ he says.

Thousands of eyes watch the penalty taker. Two steps forward, then the striker hits the ball hard, aiming for the top right corner.

With the speed of a bullet, the goalkeeper dives left, punching the ball high into the air.

Another penalty save!

It could happen.

The referee blows the whistle. FEEEP!

Moonlight’s striker runs up to the ball and kicks it to the right. It mows the grass as it heads for the bottom corner.

Yes! Jack dives the right way!

But he’s too slow. The ball glides past his outstretched glove into the white netting.

1 – 1.

Our lead is gone, and the first goal, my goal, means nothing! I punch my thigh and follow Cody into the box. Jack’s frozen, arm still stretched out towards the goalpost. Without his glasses on, his eyes are locked in a permanent squint.

‘I had it!’ he complains. ‘I was so close!’

Cody clutches Jack’s muddied arm and pulls him to his feet. ‘Unlucky, dude! You’re getting closer every time!’ He grabs the ball and kicks it back towards the centre circle.

I force myself to pat him on the back. ‘Next one,’ I say.

I thought he would be the perfect replacement for Nathan Dane, our last goalkeeper. But in Jack’s first three games, he hasn’t saved a single shot.

Chapter Two

The Wolves move into a defensive formation, holding possession for the next few minutes. As they win a throw-in right next to the corner flag, Cody chooses a Moonlight player to mark, standing right behind him, one hand on his opponent’s back. I copy him, marking the nearest Wolf.

At the edge of the field, our small band of supporters has set up a ramshackle line of eskies and fold-out chairs. They’re on their feet, clapping and cheering.

I search the faces in the crowd. Cody’s dad, Shane, has a video camera in one hand and a thumbs-up in the other. Up the sideline, Miss Jordan has her arms crossed, eyebrows slanted in two thoughtful lines.

The faces I really want to see couldn’t possibly be here. My dad’s in Brisbane, on the other side of Australia. Mum’s home in Woodland Bay. Here I am, in the small town of Moonlight, playing the last game of soccer before the winter school holidays.

I wish they were watching.

But I have to get on with it.

Finally, the Wolves’ left-back takes the throw, rifling the ball straight to their winger’s feet. He spins expertly, dodging our defender and charging back towards the corner, finishing the move with a whipped cross.

‘Away!’ Cody shouts.

I latch onto my opposing midfielder, slowing his run as the ball floats towards the players waiting in the box.

Jack moves off his line but he’s not going to get there. He’s just too short.

Luckily, one of our central defenders wins the header, rising from the pack like a rocket leaving Earth. The ball arcs away towards the centre circle, bouncing twice before arriving at Cody’s feet. He turns to the right and, with Moonlight’s winger out of position, he finds Dale Poppin, our right winger, in a paddock.

A chance to score the winner!

I race from defence to join the attack as Dale tricks his opponent and flashes down the sideline. The crowd urges him on. Cody hurtles towards the goals with Kyle, Dale’s twin brother, just ahead of him.

A second defender comes out to challenge Dale, forcing him towards the boundary. Dale hits the ball towards the corner flag. It zips away, as if flung by a slingshot, just a little too far.

Just as I enter the attacking half, dodging Moonlight midfielders and the referee, Dale performs a slide, stretching his right boot towards the ball. He connects, wrapping his foot around the ball with centimetres to spare.

The cross sizzles towards the front post at knee height, straight into the path of our captain, racing against the Wolves’ centre-back. As the ball arrives, the defender bumps into Cody’s side, smashing him off course like a skidding race car. Cody rolls onto his back and slams into the goalpost.

I hear a sickening crack. A terrifying howl. Then silence.

The game stops, like somebody hit the pause button.

Kyle Poppin is first on the scene, kneeling on the grass at Cody’s side. He looks scared, waving at me to hurry up. Or is he waving at the ref? Or Miss Jordan?

The Moonlight players become blurry statues. I zigzag through them, bumping shoulders.

‘Cody!’ I shout. ‘Cody! Are you alright?’

Another howl. A sob.

I don’t think he hears me.

As I arrive at the goalpost, Cody is grasping his right leg just below the knee, rolling from side to side, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

‘Cody!’ I say again.

The referee holds an arm in front of my chest. ‘Give him space, boys,’ he says firmly. ‘Shuffle back. Give him some space.’

I step back with Kyle, throwing my hands onto my head and looking around. What do I do?

Another howl.

The referee takes one look at Cody’s leg before signalling to a group of parents sitting nearby. He waves a fist at them, thumb and pinky poking out, like a phone.

‘We need an ambulance!’ he says.

Chapter Three

The ambulance rumbles off the field and onto the street. I stare at it from the front seat of Shane’s car, eyes lost in the thick red and yellow lines painted on its back doors. Cody is somewhere on the other side of its tinted window, flat on the stretcher, surrounded by medical equipment and green paramedics.

Shane is taking me and Jack to the medical centre. Miss Jordan is following in her car. It’s like being in a VIP convoy, like when the Prime Minister goes for a drive, except this time Cody is the very important person and we’re not wearing suits and dark sunglasses. And I’m not a federal agent.

A gloved hand grips my shoulder. ‘What happens now?’ Jack says. ‘I mean, the game never finished.’

I turn my head. Jack is still completely kitted out, sweaty and covered in dirt, as if he teleported mid-game from the goalmouth into the back seat. He has his glasses back on, now that we’re off the field. ‘I don’t know,’ I say, ‘but Cody will.’

I glance at Shane. He tries to smile, but his face is whiter than his knuckles. He’s about to crush the steering wheel.

The Moonlight Medical Centre is an old-fashioned brick building on a grassy hill overlooking the main highway back to Woodland Bay.

Instead of following the ambulance to the emergency wing, Shane turns into the public car park. Miss Jordan parks next to us and we walk to the entrance as a group, Jack’s soccer boots clacking along the pathway.

The waiting room looks like an old movie, with cracked yellow paint on the walls and faded blue carpet. Shane approaches the front desk, leaving me and Jack with Miss Jordan. I pick a red vinyl couch in one of the corners, right under one of the heating vents in the ceiling.

Miss Jordan sits in a matching red armchair and chooses a magazine from the side table. ‘We could be waiting for a while.’ She glances at Jack. ‘Did you want to change out of your uniform?’

Jack uses his shirt to wipe a smudge off his glasses, but only makes the smudge worse. ‘I can’t. I left my stuff in the car. But I do need the toilet.’

Miss Jordan smiles and points across the room. ‘They’re over near the vending machine.’

I lean forward, watching Jack waddle across the waiting room. ‘Miss Jordan, is Cody going to be okay?’

She hesitates, letting her magazine drop into her lap. ‘Honestly, I think we should be prepared for the worst.’

My eyes bulge, like balloons filling with air.

Miss Jordan holds up her hand. ‘I mean, I’m sure he’s going to be fine. But he might not be able to play for a while.’

‘How long?’ I ask.

‘I don’t know. We’ll just have to wait until he comes out.’ Miss Jordan returns to her magazine and settles deeper into her chair.

I peer at the magazine’s cover. ‘You’re reading that upside down.’

She folds the cover down and has a look. ‘Oh, right.’

We sit and wait. I call Mum using Miss Jordan’s phone. Jack and I share a packet of jellybeans from the vending machine. I flick through some magazines, but they’ve just got boring pictures of adults standing in gardens.

On the other side of the room, an old man dressed in a green tracksuit falls asleep in his chair. I change position at least ten times, crossing my legs, sitting up straight, even flopping my legs over the armrest. Gradually, sunlight zooms in through the windows.

High on the wall, the television is playing a shampoo advertisement for the fiftieth time when Shane finally leads Cody into the waiting room. Bent at the knee, Cody’s right leg is wrapped in a chunky