D2: The Mighty Ducks Novel

THE TUTOR AND THE COACH

     Tibbles regained consciousness. Gordon helped him to a bleacher seat.

     "He'll be okay." the woman told Gordon. "Just keep an eye on him."

     Gordon looked at the woman. She smiled at him.

     "Hi," she said. "I'm sorry. He didn't get a chance to introduce us. I'm Michele MacKay, the team's tutor."

     "Yes, hi," replied Gordon. "I'm Gordon Bombay, their coach. Team, this is Ms. MacKay."

     "I don't need no school!" shouted Portman.

     "Yeah," agreed Banks. "Who said we need a tutor?"

     "The Minnesota State Department of Welfare," answered Ms. MacKay. "I have to teach you for three hours, Monday through Friday."

     "It's the rules, guys. Gotta live by 'em," agreed Gordon. The Ducks let out a collective groan. Gordon looked at his watch. "I need them for another hour, Ms. MacKay, but you can have them, say, at two thirty."

     "Oh no," said the tutor. "Maybe I wasn't clear. The hours for instruction must be between ten and three. Sorry, it's the rules, Mr. Bombay. Gotta live by 'em."

      Goldberg stepped forward and placed a hand on Ms. MacKay's shoulders. "Ms. MacKay," he said, sounding very serious. "We're America's team. Shouldn't we just be concentrating on hockey? May I suggest optional school attendance?"

      "That's not a bad idea,". replied Ms. MacKay "School will be optional.

      The kids cheered.

     "However," Ms. MacKay continued, "should you not attend, you will not be eligible to play."

     Now the kids groaned.

   
  "I'll be required to travel with you to Los Angeles," Ms. MacKay explained to Gordon. “Their education should never be interrupted. Don't you agree?"

     "Absolutely," replied Gordon. The kids had finished practice, and Gordon was on the bench working with the playbook. "So, you can teach all the subjects? You must be smart."

     "I am," said Ms. MacKay with confidence.
  
     "How'd you get that way?"

     "Good teachers and good books."

     "Hey. I just finished a good book today." said Gordon. "Three hundred and fifty pages long. That's a lot of coloring, let me tell ya." Gordon laughed, but Ms. MacKay did not. She didn't think it was funny. "Joke," prompted Gordon. "That was a joke.

      "I know," Ms. MacKay said flatly.

      "Are you a big hockey fan?"

      Ms. MacKay frowned. "No. I really don't care a great deal about sports."

      "I could teach you," Gordon offered. "Once you know how the game is played it-"

      "I know how sports are played," Ms. MacKay snapped. "I grew up with three brothers. Let's just say I'm not a big hockey fan. It can be a little, I don't know, barbaric. Toothless guys with sticks."

      Gordon gave Ms. MacKay a critical, disapproving look.

     "It's the most beautiful sport in the world," Gordon said.

     Ms. MacKay shrugged. "Opinions vary. I'm just here to tutor the kids and provide them with some adult supervision."

     "My kids are well behaved and responsible," said Gordon, "I'm capable of providing them with all
the adult supervision they need."

     Just then they were interrupted by the roar of a motor. Gordon and Michele turned. The Zamboni ice machine crashed into the boards and belched a thick cloud of dark smoke

      Then they saw Fulton, Guy, and Jesse emerge from the smoke. They jumped off the machine, coughing and waving their arms.

     "Don't worry," Fulton cracked. "We're okay!" The three boys headed nonchalantly into the locker room.

      Gordon turned a sheepish grin toward Ms.MacKay.

      "I'm sorry," Ms. MacKay said. "You were saying something about well-behaved boys?"

      Gordon's face turned red.

The Ducks were gathered for class in a makeshift classroom in the arena. They sat scattered among folding chairs and groaned as Ms. MacKay wrote out geometry equations on a portable rolling blackboard.

       Their minds were definitely not on mathematics.

      "You guys can't just come here and be Ducks," Jesse whispered sharply to Portman, who was sit ting in the row in front of him. "We earned our wings."

     "Ducks stink," scoffed Portman. "I play for me."

      Guy was sitting next to Luis. Luis was throwing smiles at Connie, just as he had been doing all afternoon. And what was worse, Connie was smiling back. Guy didn't like it.

     "Hey, speedy, quit scammin' my babe," he warned Luis.

     "The name's Luis. Sorry, amigo. Didn't mean to ruffle your Duck feathers."

      Ms. MacKay looked up from the blackboard. "Okay," she called out. "Who can tell me what an isosceles triangle is? Dwayne?"

      The kids snickered. Meanwhile, Guy saw Connie throw another smile at Luis.

     "I saw that, Connie," said Guy angrily.

     "You don't own me," Connie retorted.

     Luis smiled. "She's right, my friend," he said smugly.

     "I'm not your friend!" shouted Guy.

     "Good," said Luis. "Then I won't feel so bad when Connie and I are together."

     "Boys, that is enough!" ordered Ms. MacKay. "I mean it. Okay now. Can anyone tell me what an isosce-"

"NOBODY MOVES!"

     All heads turned. It was Portman. "My Nirvana tape is missing!" He turned to face Fulton, in the seat beside him. "You snagged it, didn't you?"

     "Yeah, here it is," said Fulton flippantly. He threw a roll of black hockey tape at Portman. Portman ducked. The tape was intercepted, a few seats over, by Julie. Then Portman and Fulton jumped to their feet and began shoving each other.

      At the same time, Guy and Luis began poking one another, challenging each other to a fight over Connie. Connie was trying to break it up

      Within seconds wads of crumpled paper hurtled across the seats like snowballs. Jesse, Goldberg, Banks, and Averman had begun a paper-wad war with Dwayne, Ken, and Julie.

     Things were getting out of hand.

     "Stop it, class!" shouted Ms. MacKay as a paper ball whizzed past her shoulder and hit the black board. "Class! Team USA!"

     "Cool it, guys!" shouted Charlie, who was immediately pummeled with a barrage of paper balls.

     Gordon had been watching the scene from the locker-room doorway. He walked casually over to the blackboard.

     "Need any help, adult supervision-wise?" he quipped to Ms. MacKay. She shot him an angry stare.

     Gordon smiled knowingly. "You need to treat the children with patience and understanding," he suggested. Then he took a step toward the unruly class and blasted his whistle.

     "ALL RIGHT-KNOCK IT OFF AND SIT DOWN!" he shouted.

     There was instant silence as the kids returned to their seats.

     Ms. MacKay leaned over to Gordon. "Patience and understanding?" she reminded him.

      Gordon grinned. "Patience, understanding," he began, "and a loud whistle."