Arctic Thunder

by Robert Feagan

  The group grew quiet as they watched Joseph neatly place one last pile of equipment. Straightening to his full height, he scowled at the boys. Then, with a trace of a smile, he waved before silently going back to his work.

  “I’ve never seen the Monster smile before,” Donnie whispered to Mike, who quickly elbowed him in the ribs and shot him an exasperated look.

  “Okay, boys,” Ben said, “let’s get our equipment on and get busy. If you need help figuring anything out, ask Mike, Todd, Jimmy, or myself.”

  With a babble of excitement the boys hustled over to clumps of equipment and started the mystifying task of putting the stuff on for the first time in their lives. Todd, Jimmy, and Ben chuckled as the boys made some pretty big mistakes pulling on the kidney pads and other protection. Ben spied Joseph sitting near the stage, watching the other boys. He seemed a bit lost and not certain what to do.

  “Hey, Joseph!” Ben called.

  The big boy looked up.

  “Why don’t you put on the gear and give it a try?”

  Joseph shook his head.

  “Well, if you change your mind, you’re welcome to join in,” Ben said.

  Once the boys had everything on in the right places, Todd and Jimmy went to work.

  “Okay, gentlemen, let’s see what you’ve got. Ben, get them to run some of the drills you’ve been working on so Jimmy and I can see what we’re working with.”

  Ben had the boys do shuttle passes, breakouts, shooting drills, and loose-ball battles. With the equipment on, the intensity and contact picked up immediately. Jimmy and Todd stood back with Ben and watched.

  Jimmy shook his head. “These kids are way ahead of where I thought they’d be.”

  Ben nodded. “Most of them are pretty gifted athletes. They do events called Arctic Sports that you wouldn’t believe. That kid Tommy —” Ben motioned in Tommy’s direction “— can jump in the air and kick a little stuffed seal way above his head and then land back on the foot he kicked it with. Mark over there is one of the strongest kids I’ve ever seen.”

  “You can see it when he gets in the corner after the ball,” Todd said.

  Jimmy nodded at the net. “My God, Ben! That girl … Gwen, is it? She has the most amazing hands. Watch this, watch this!”

  As Jimmy spoke, Gwen calmly scooped up the ball and faked Mike out of his shoes. Cutting across in front of Grant in the net, she flipped a pass back over her shoulder that hit dead centre in the mesh of Mitchell’s stick. It surprised him, and after a quick glance into his basket, he easily plopped the ball into the open side of the net.

  “Whoooooo! Way to go!” Todd yelled, holding his arms above his head. “Okay, folks, let’s start some serious hitting.”

  The next part of the practice was fast and furious. Once the players got rid of the urge to lunge at each other and flail all over the place, they learned quickly how to administer solid body contact, and the three coaches stood back in amazement.

  “These kids are truly amazing,” Jimmy said. “They learn so fast it’s unreal.”

  David Elanik, who was jogging by, suddenly stopped. “My dad says that aboriginal people learn best by watching. For years before we went to schools and stuff, we depended on being observers of the land, animals, and our elders. To this day you show us how to do something and we’ll learn it right away.” He shrugged and joined the other players in line beside the net.

  Todd was a fantastic teacher, and the players loved him. He had an easy, likable manner that endeared him to the kids in minutes. Jimmy was much the same way and made the players feel comfortable and eager to learn. As the practice wound down, Ben called everybody to the centre of the gym and had them kneel around Todd and Jimmy.

  While Jimmy went over some last-minute advice on the two pick plays they had shown the players, Todd nudged Ben with his elbow and nodded over the players’ heads at the net. Ben followed Todd’s gaze and spotted Joseph holding one of the lacrosse sticks gently in his hands. He turned it over and over, running his hand along the shaft. Walking slowly, he approached one of the balls lying on the floor and deftly scooped it up. Rotating his wrists, he moved the basket back and forth, cradling the ball as he strode away from the net. Halting, he turned and stared at the net. Quickly moving the stick up and down, he flipped the ball into the air and caught it a few times.

  By now the players had caught on and were watching Joseph, too, as he continued to juggle the ball. Suddenly, he reared back and fired the ball at the net. Like a laser beam, it ripped with incredible velocity into the top corner of the net, bulging the twine and making a fwooosh! sound that echoed throughout the gym.

  “Whooooooo!” Todd shouted as the players gasped.

  “Holy crap!” Jimmy said. “You guys are trying to beat me out of a job. That was harder than any shot I’ve ever made.”

  Joseph looked at all the awed faces. “If it’s okay, I’d like to join the team.” He turned the lacrosse stick in his hands. “This feels right.”

  CHAPTER 21

  After the visit from Todd and Jimmy, the team grew even closer. The players went to school together, practised together, and hung out together. Everyone got along, something that would be very important when they travelled south.

  The tournament was only a few weeks away. The weather and daylight had made a dramatic shift from March when the Watsons first arrived. The temperature was above or close to zero every day now. In March they had at best experienced nine to ten hours of sunlight. Now there was more than eighteen. By June they would have twenty-four hours.

  Donnie, in his usual wide-eyed fashion, informed Mike that in January when Inuvik experienced zero hours of daylight, New York had just over nine hours.

  In March when Inuvik had almost ten hours of daylight, New York had eleven. But in June when Inuvik had twenty-four hours of daylight, New York only had a bit under fifteen. He claimed that if you added it all up, Inuvik was a much sunnier place. Mike had learned not to doubt things said by Donnie and could only nod with interest when he told him all this stuff.

  And the light was intense! It shone brightly every morning, and the town’s spirits seemed to lift higher with the increasing warmth. Each day the snow shrank and the river ice began to break up. Apparently, it had already broken at Tsiigehtchic, and Inuvik’s time couldn’t be far off. Victor had promised that before the team left for the tournament he would take the players by boat to his camp for a send-off celebration.

  Mike revelled in the competition and camaraderie as he went up against Joseph or Gwen in practice. They would hammer at one another and have the most extreme confrontations, but it would always end in laughter and a lot of good-natured fooling around on the floor. Donnie’s eyes almost crossed one day, too, when he walked past Joseph and the huge kid reached out and playfully messed his hair. The Monster had been tamed!

  What at first seemed like a major disaster, however, took place at one of the team’s last practices before they were scheduled to leave town. Grant had been growing in confidence between the pipes but hadn’t adjusted as quickly to lacrosse as Ben had hoped. He was getting better but was still the one weak spot on the team. A good goalie made a huge difference in lacrosse, and not having Grant adapt to the position hurt the team’s chances of having a decent showing at the tournament.

  Each practice session had several shootouts as a fun break from the more intense drills. The shootout continued until only one player was left. Tommy, Gwen, Joseph, and Mike were the last ones on this particular occasion. Mike rushed in first and tried a fancy bounce shot between his legs that failed miserably. Gwen went next. Crossing in front of the net, she faked a shot before deftly whipping the ball back over her shoulder, rippling the mesh behind Grant. The rest of the team cheered wildly. Joseph jogged toward the net, then unexpectedly reared back and rifled a long-distance shot as hard as he could. It caught Grant by surprise, and for some reason, despite all of the practice, he tried to catch the ball with his free hand hockey style. Big mistake! Lacro
sse goalies didn’t have a catching mitt like those of hockey goalies. They had two gloves pretty much the same as players who ran the floor, and there wasn’t much padding in the palm.

  Grant’s cry of pain echoed off the gym walls as he threw his gloves into the air and fell to his knees, holding his injured hand close to his chest. Ben and Victor, who had been watching the practice, raced over and knelt beside Grant, examining his hand as the team crowded around.

  Ben turned ashen-faced to Victor and whispered, “Vic, I think he has at least two broken fingers.”

  “You stay with the boys, Ben,” Victor said. “Let me take him to the hospital. You finish what you started here while I take care of the boy.”

  Ben nodded and got to his feet. “Boys, stand back and give Mr. Allen and Grant room. We’re going to get Grant to the hospital to get him checked out, but the rest of you need to finish practice.”

  The team solemnly stepped back as Victor helped Grant out of his equipment and hurried him off to the hospital. Everyone stood in a daze for a few moments, not really quite sure what to do.

  “Dad, what are we going to do for the rest of the practice?” Mike asked. “Today you said we were going to pretty much concentrate on shooting. Now we don’t have a goalie. Jeez, if Grant’s hurt bad we might not even have a goalie for the tournament.”

  Ben held up his hand for Mike and the rest of the players to listen. “Let’s not get carried away until we know for sure how hurt Grant is. For the moment what we need is somebody to stand in for Grant.”

  Ben looked at his players, and they returned his stare. Gwen elbowed Mike, and he nodded, then glanced at the stage. Soon everybody’s attention, including Ben’s, was focused where Donnie sat mulling over shooting percentages and other statistics.

  Glancing up at the team when he noticed the sudden silence, Donnie realized the whole team was watching him. His cheeks flushing, he cried in exasperation, “I didn’t fart!”

  A few of the players snickered as Ben approached Donnie. “Nobody says you farted Donnie. You’re an important part of this team. And being a member of the team, you can be called upon to do different things depending on the situation. As of this minute, we have a different situation. We need a warm body in the net.”

  “Oh, n-no, n-no!” Donnie stuttered. “I’m not a warm body. I’m not much of a body at all. I saw what happened to Grant, and I don’t want to die.” He pointed at the team. “I won’t let them kill me!”

  Ben placed a hand on Donnie’s shoulder reassuringly, then looked at the rest of the team. “If Donnie goes in the net, anybody who hits him hard with the ball has to sit out for five minutes. In other words, he stands there with the equipment on and you guys pick the corners around him. He doesn’t have to move and he doesn’t have to be afraid of one of you smacking him with the ball. Got it?” Everyone nodded, and Ben turned back to Donnie. “See, big guy? Everybody’s behind you on this. We need you for this one practice. Can you do it?”

  Donnie blinked in blurry hugeness behind his glasses. “Yes,” he said, sighing. “I don’t believe I’m doing this, but yes!”

  “Thataboy!” Ben said, clapping him on the back. “Okay, guys, let’s get Donnie suited up.”

  Gwen and Mike led Donnie to the equipment and helped bundle him up. The equipment was a bit sweaty from Grant, and Donnie grimaced as the cold wetness of the recent sweat touched his skin. Clad in his new suit of armour, he waddled over to the net and turned around.

  Tyler Snowshoe gasped. “Jeez, he’s big in there!”

  It was true! With Donnie’s size there didn’t seem to be a whole lot of net to shoot at.

  “You okay, Donnie?” Ben asked.

  “Yes, Mr. Watson,” Donnie said without much enthusiasm.

  “Mike,” Ben said, “show Donnie how to stand.”

  “I know how to stand!” Donnie cried. “I watch Grant every day. I’ve seen the DVDs.” As if to emphasize his point, Donnie placed the blade of the goalie stick on the floor and put his left hand on his hip. He actually looked like a lacrosse goalie!

  “Okay, everybody,” Ben said, “get into lines. Time for passing plays.”

  The players started to run some plays and were careful not to hurt Donnie. He took a few shots off the chest pad, and when he didn’t feel any pain, decided to keep his eyes open. Ben smiled and walked over to the stage to write a few notes.

  A few minutes later Mike tugged at Ben’s sleeve. “Dad, get your head out of your papers and watch this!” He pointed to the action at the other end of the gym.

  Ben turned in time to see Gwen, Joseph, and Tommy moving toward the net. Donnie stood in perfect lacrosse fashion and watched as the three players moved the ball around the crease. Joseph quickly passed the ball over to Gwen, and Donnie shifted to that side. Gwen immediately flipped the ball to Tommy, who one-timed a shot at the open net. In acrobatic fashion Donnie flopped back and snapped his goalie stick across, catching the shot in the huge pocket of mesh.

  Ben gasped. “Holy crap! How long has he been doing that?”

  “Since about the fourth shot!” Mike cried excitedly.

  Ben strolled to the other end of the gym as each line ran in on Donnie, trying to score. Mike faked a pass to Mark and fired a bounce shot to Donnie’s left. The big boy flicked his leg out and took the ball off the toe of his shoe. Gwen, Mitchell, and Billy worked the ball around until Gwen caught a pass in full flight in front of the net, flipping a shot over her shoulder. Donnie threw his upper body in the way, and Gwen swung her stick in anger at the post.

  “There’s no place to shoot!” she cried in exasperation to Ben. “He covers the whole darn net!”

  Mike laughed. “He’s also covering the angles like a monster cat.”

  Ben blew his whistle and walked over to Donnie. All that could be seen of Donnie’s face were eyes and cheeks pushing against the inside of his mask. “Who the heck are you and what have you done with Donnie?” Ben mock-demanded. “You’re amazing!”

  Donnie tapped his stick nervously on the floor. “I don’t really know, but … but I watched Grant a lot, you know? I watched this stuff on YouTube, too. I kind of … I don’t know … I kind of pretended at home I was Steve “Chugger” Dietrich, the NLL goalie. He’s bigger like me, and he’s a great goalie. I guess I daydreamed a bit that maybe … I dunno … that maybe I could really be part of this team.”

  “Well, my friend, Mr. Donnie,” Ben said, placing a hand on each of Donnie’s massive shoulders, “if Grant isn’t able to play, your daydreams may just come true.”

  Donnie’s head snapped up, surprise and joy in his eyes simultaneously. “Are you serious?”

  “Of course, he’s serious,” Tommy said over Ben’s shoulder. “Now get back in net, because one way or another I’m finally going to score on you.”

  Donnie squinted at Tommy. “Let’s see you try,” he said as he lumbered back between the pipes.

  CHAPTER 22

  As it turned out, Grant’s index finger and thumb were both broken, and he was done as a player. The boys were all pretty choked, but Donnie’s first experience in the net hadn’t been a fluke. At every practice he grew in confidence and became harder and harder to score on. He was big and played the angles flawlessly. It made him an imposing figure in the net. And in true Donnie style he studied everything he could put his hands on: YouTube videos, the DVDs Mike had at home, and anything else he could find on the Internet. Mike told Ben that at recess one day in the boys’ bathroom Donnie was standing on a toilet with the stall door propped open so he could see his full body in the mirror. He was in his goalie stance, shifting back and forth. When Mike burst in, Donnie stumbled off and clattered to the floor.

  There were a few things Donnie had to work on, like stepping out of the net to meet long shots and moving back against the crossbar when players had the ball in close, but he was indeed very good. With the exception of Mike, though, Donnie lacked what all the other players were short on — experience in a real game. How woul
d they react against another, more experienced team? Would they be intimidated? They looked great in practice, but once an actual game came along would they disappear into the woodwork?

  The ice on the Mackenzie River had finally broken up, and Victor invited everyone to his camp for a team getaway before they left for Edmonton and St. Albert. There was now more than twenty hours of daylight, and the weather was fantastic. It took three boats, but Victor, Ben, and the team finally arrived at Victor’s camp for a one-night getaway. It was a great team-building experience, and Mike was thrilled to see the terrific camaraderie among his fellow players.

  Ben had purchased a second-hand boat from another RCMP officer who had transferred south, and this trip was his first chance to try it out. Mike was ecstatic when Ben turned the wheel over to him for part of the trip. Nothing could wipe the smile off Mike’s face. When they reached Victor’s camp, Joseph was on the shore to greet them and help land the boats. He had been helping Victor and several other elders over the past few weeks and actually seemed to enjoy the work.

  It was late in the day, and Joseph had a fire going on the shore. Mike and Ben smelled fish cooking as they ambled up from the boats. The team settled around the fire as Victor and Joseph prepared a meal and refreshments. Mike gazed across the river, then looked around the fire at the happy faces of his teammates. “This is all pretty sweet,” he whispered, leaning close to his father.

  Ben smiled. “You’re right, son. It’s pretty nice, isn’t it?”

  “I’m sorry I was so … I don’t know … crappy to you and Mom when we first moved here. I never guessed it would be like this. It really feels like home now.”

  Ben wrapped his arm around Mike’s shoulders and pulled him close. “It does, doesn’t it?”