Vanishing Acts

Chapter 14

Madison Sees a Ghost

Prescott-Mather was just over the line in Washington County and was not in The Grove’s interschool league. The prep school had been the Washington County middle school champion three out of the past six years. Every year, The Grove boys’ and girls’ teams played a scrimmage against Prescott-Mather before the start of the season. Even though the game didn’t count, the scrimmage was a big rivalry game because it gave the teams a chance to see how well they could do against top competition.

This year, the boys’ game was at The Grove and the girls were traveling. Madison boarded the bus for the trip to Prescott-Mather and found a seat in the back of the bus with Gail, another seventh-grade alternate. Coach Davis had made Marci team captain. Halfway to the prep school Marci stood in the aisle and gave a shrill whistle to get everyone’s attention.

“Before we boarded the bus, Coach Davis told us to play hard today as if we were playing in a championship game. Well, I’m telling you to play harder than that. This game won’t count in the won-lost column, but it counts here.” Marci pounded her fist against her heart. “The players on Prescott-Mather think they’re hot stuff because they’re rich and go to a private school. Well, they’re not hot stuff. That school recruits and gives out scholarships, and that’s cheating as far as I’m concerned. Everyone who plays for The Grove lives near the school. We don’t pick and choose. The Prescott-Mather snobs look down their nose at us because we go to public school. I say that makes us tougher. No one feeds us with a silver spoon. Today let’s show those preppies where they can put their silver spoons.” Marci’s face turned red. “I hate the Prescott-Mather preppies. Let’s crush them this afternoon.”

Most of the girls cheered and whistled, but Madison was quiet. She’d never heard a coach or player on her elementary school or club teams say they hated anyone, let alone an entire school. As far as Madison was concerned, being angry hurt your performance. It was better to concentrate on doing your best. If you performed your fundamentals as well as you could, you’d play as well as you could, and it wouldn’t matter if you liked or hated the other team.

Prescott-Mather had always been a big rival of her elementary school, but some of the girls on the two school teams played on elite club teams together and were friends. Madison couldn’t imagine hating someone who was a teammate on a club team just because they played for a different school during the school soccer season.

The driver told Marci she would have to sit. She took her seat and everyone quieted down. Madison noticed that Coach Davis hadn’t done anything to stop Marci or criticize her speech. She sighed. There was no question that Marci was the coach’s favorite. Madison could see that taking her spot was going to be almost impossible.

The bus left the highway shortly after crossing the county line and headed into the countryside. Fifteen minutes later, it passed between two stone pillars with thick metal letters on them that told Madison that she had arrived at Prescott-Mather. A two-lane road passed between oak, maple, and Douglas fir trees for a short stretch before turning into the main campus, a collection of old stone classroom buildings and dorms for the students who boarded that would have looked at home at any Ivy League university.

The Grove’s gym was part of the school building, whereas the gym at Prescott-Mather was made of glass and polished steel and stood on its own plot of land. In the gym were a basketball court and an Olympic-size swimming pool. The soccer field was behind the gym and was surrounded by woods. The stands were filled with parents and students, even though the teams were only playing a scrimmage. Madison didn’t look for her father in the crowd. She knew he wouldn’t be there. Madison’s father rarely made it to her games. She was sure if her mom was alive she would have made it to every single one of them.

The bus stopped and Coach Davis got off first. The Prescott-Mather coach was waiting for her, and the prep school players were lined up at her side. The coaches shook hands and chatted for a moment. They seemed like old friends. Then Coach Davis motioned for the team to get off the bus. The girls were already wearing their soccer gear. After they shook hands with their rivals, Coach Davis led them to the visitor’s bench, where they huddled up and she gave them a short pep talk. Then she read off the starting lineup before sending the team out to warm up.

Madison was not starting, but she hoped that she’d get in the game at some point so the coach could see how well she played against a really good team. Thinking about playing against Prescott-Mather brought back memories of the last game she and Ann had played together. Madison blinked back an unexpected tear. For the first time in her soccer career she would be playing a game without Ann. Where was she? Was she safe? Madison would have given anything to know the answer to those questions.

With two minutes left, Pettygrove and Prescott-Mather were tied 1 to 1 and Madison was still on the bench because Coach Davis was only playing her starters. The coach looked more intense than Madison had ever seen her, and that was saying a lot. She stomped along the sidelines yelling at everyone, her face bright red. She was acting like this was the state finals. Madison had convinced herself that she would never get a chance to play when Carrie Metzger twisted her ankle and limped off in pain.

“Kincaid, get in there,” the coach shouted. Jumping up, she raced onto the field. Her adrenaline was pumping. If she could just have the chance to get a shot on goal, the coach would see how valuable she could be to the team.

That chance came with a minute left. Marci had the ball and The Grove was moving upfield. Two defenders raced toward Marci, and she realized that she had to get rid of the ball. Marci looked to her left and saw that her closest teammate was being guarded. Then she turned to her right and saw Madison.

No one was between Madison and the goal because the defenders were concentrating on The Grove’s stars. If Marci passed the ball, Madison would have a chance to score and win the game. Marci hesitated. Madison could read Marci’s thoughts: The last thing Marci wanted to do was make Madison Kincaid look good, but beating Prescott-Mather was even more important. She faked one way and sent a beautiful pass toward Madison.

As Madison broke toward the ball, she calculated her next move. Only the goalie stood between her and victory. A short distance behind the goal was the forest. When Madison was inches from the ball, she saw movement in the trees.

Standing on the edge of the woods, staring at Madison, was a girl who looked exactly like Ann Beck.

Madison’s mouth dropped open. She took her eyes off the ball and tripped over it. Her feet went flying and she hit the turf face-first. When she looked up, all she could see were feet racing by her. She pushed up to her hands and knees and saw players fighting for the ball, but all she could think of was the girl in the woods. Had she seen Ann or had her eyes played tricks on her?

Remembering the game, she leaped to her feet. Before she could get to the battling players, the whistle blew and the tie game was over.

“Thanks for nothing, you spaz,” Marci shouted at her angrily as she raced toward the bench. Madison hung her head. She had cost the team a chance to win. The other girls glared at her. Instead of being the hero, Madison was the goat.

When she got to the bench, Coach Davis gathered everyone around her and bawled them out for not playing hard enough to win. Standing on the edge of the huddle, eyes down, she expected to be the object of the coach’s wrath, but Coach Davis ignored her, which was even worse than a tongue-lashing.

Prescott-Mather had set up a table with cold drinks and snacks. In a voice heavy with disgust, the coach told her team they could get refreshments even though they didn’t deserve any kind of reward.

Madison headed toward the table, then veered off and streaked toward the woods. When she reached the spot where the girl had stood, she saw a path leading into the forest. She jogged along it. After a little while the path ended at one of the school’s dorms. It was past five and she saw only a few students. None of them was Ann. She wanted to ask them if they knew Ann, but she had to get back to the team or the bus would leave without her. By the time she joined her teammates on the bus, Madison wasn’t even sure if she’d seen Ann at all.