Macdonald Hall #6: Lights, Camera, Disaster!

Meet the Press

Bruno and Boots got special permission to ride with Coach Flynn to York County Hospital that evening to visit the hero of the day.

They found him sitting up in bed, spirits high, watching himself in an old Cutesy Newbar rerun on TV. His eye was swollen shut, and the left side of his face was puffed out and purple, but the post-game grin was still there, and it stretched from ear to ear.

"I got in trouble," he said cheerfully. "Makeup says they can't make my face look normal for another ten days. Seth hit the ceiling."

"Join the club," said Boots. "The whole team is alternating on dishwashing duty."

Coach Flynn tried to look grim. "I think I might be in trouble, too. It's my business to know who my goalie is. I can never condone breaking the rules." He smiled all over his face. "But today I came very close."

"Too bad we got disqualified," said Jordie.

Bruno snorted. "Ineligible player — big deal. We all know who won. Who cares about the official story? And you were great, Cutesy," he added with emphasis. "You were better than great. The team is flipping out over the game and what you did for us."

"Pete's all mad because he missed it," put in Boots.

"Is he okay?" Jordie inquired.

"Sure, fine," said Bruno. "We were kind of worried for a while, but then he asked if you and Fred were related — so we knew he was back to normal."

"You know, I'm fine, too, except for my eye," said Jordie, fidgeting restlessly. "I don't see why I have to stay here overnight."

Bruno surveyed the semiprivate room critically. "Hey, Cutesy, if you're such a big star, how come you have to share a room with somebody else?"

As if on cue, a hand reached out and pulled open the curtain that divided the room. There in the other bed lay Goose Golden, pale-faced and prostrated, a shattered man apparently breathing his last.

Mr. Flynn was horrified. "What happened?"

Golden glared at him balefully. "You!" he barely whispered."A teacher, an educator, a respected man! Involving innocent children in a bloodbath! Barbarian! Savage! Philistine!"

"He's okay," supplied Jordie. "He got a little upset at the game today."

"Game?!" the manager spat. "I don't remember any game. Butchery. Atrocity. Mayhem. And in the middle of it — my client! I'm lucky to be alive!"

Jordie laughed. "I'm the guy with the black eye."

"It's my job to suffer for you," said Golden stubbornly.

"You should have seen him a couple of hours ago," Jordie told the visitors. "He tried to get the doctor to put him on life support."

"He's a quack," muttered Golden. "What does he know about sickness?"

"It really is my fault," confessed Mr. Flynn. "Hockey is a great sport, but it can get a little rough. '

"There were so many guys out there," raved Golden. "Did anything happen to them? No! It had to be my client who got hit right in the face with the ball!"

"It's a puck," corrected Bruno.

"It's a lethal weapon!" roared Golden, his strength returning. "It should be controlled by the government!"

At that moment, a white-coated doctor entered, accompanied by Seth Dinkman.

"The boy is fine," the doctor was saying. "There's no damage, not even a cut."