'Mobile,' I told him. 'That's a stupid town!' he said.

And that was all of our conversation for several days.

On the practice field, things didn't start very well. I got the ball, but I ran the wrong way with it, and
everybody got angry and started shouting at me. But Coach Bryant called me across. 'Just get in the line
and start catching the ball,' he told me. And then I told him something that he didn't want to hear. 'They
never taught me to catch a ball at high school,' I said. 'It was difficult enough for me just to remember
where our goal line was.' I don't think he was very pleased. But he started to teach me to catch. I
wanted my Mom, and I wanted to go home. I didn't like that place. And Curtis was always angry, and I
couldn't understand him. He had a car, and sometimes he gave me a ride to the practice field. But one
day when he had to change a wheel on the car, I helped him. 'If you're an idiot,' he said, angrily, 'how do
you know how to do that?' 'Maybe I am an idiot,' I said, 'but I'm not stupid.' Then Curtis ran after me,
and called me all kinds of terrible names. After that, I moved my bed to another room.