Rebel Glory

by Sigmund Brouwer

  “Dead animals and live animals,” I said. “What’s the deal?”

  “For science labs in universities, colleges and high schools,” she explained. “Animals like frogs and snakes and cats to dissect don’t just wander into the lab and ask to be experimented on.”

  I put the straw to my mouth for another gulp of milkshake. I thought of slimy dead squid and changed my mind.

  “I think I understand,” I said as I set the milkshake aside. “If someone bought the cockroaches to put in Jason’s equipment, that person had to buy them from Biology Supply Importers.”

  “That’s the way Dad looked at it too.”

  “And you think I should go to their office and ask them if they sold cockroaches to anyone in the last couple of weeks.”

  “Yes,” Cheryl said. “Show them all the photographs too. Maybe the person didn’t use his real name when he bought them.”

  “If he bought them,” I said. “This doesn’t sound like a sure thing.”

  “It isn’t a sure thing,” she agreed, “but can you think of a better idea?”

  I stayed in a motel again that night. I was glad to be able to take the wig and false mustache off, but no matter how hard I scrubbed, the tattoos stayed on my arm.

  I fell asleep wondering about the cockroaches. Sure, you could dump a jarful into someone’s duffel bag, but how could you get them to bury themselves in all the cracks of a guy’s equipment? And how could you get them to sit still as Jason got dressed and then move as Jason began to skate? You couldn’t inject each cockroach with a sleeping potion and then push it into the equipment. Even if that were possible, how would you know that the cockroaches would wake up at exactly the right time?

  It was too much of a puzzle for me to solve. Thinking of cockroaches didn’t help my sleep much, either. I kept dreaming of giant ones chasing me around the ice.

  I was tired, then, when I woke up the next morning. The drive south to Calgary took me and my old truck about an hour and a half. I should have enjoyed the view as I drove. The highway is mostly straight and flat, which some people might find boring. But a prairie sky is a pretty picture, with colors from the blue of a robin’s egg to the oranges and yellows on sun-streaked clouds. Plus for much of the way to Calgary you can see the jagged edges of the Rocky Mountains against the western horizon.

  I couldn’t enjoy the view, though. I was too nervous, hoping that Cheryl’s plan would work. And what was I going to say once I got to Biology Supply Importers? Could I just march in and demand that they tell me what I wanted to know?

  When I got to Calgary, the first thing I did was stop by a one-hour photo shop to get Cheryl’s film developed. There were photos of the stickboys and of Teddy, the trainer. There were also some photos of Cheryl and me together, making goofy faces into the camera as I held it in my hand and pointed it toward us. I sure looked weird in the ponytail wig, but she was pretty, even with her tongue sticking out.

  After leaving the photo shop, it took me a half hour to find Biology Supply Importers at a small warehouse in the southeast part of Calgary. Not until I pulled into the parking lot had I decided how I would approach this. With honesty.

  “Hello,” I said as I walked into a tiny office to see a woman at a desk. She was an older lady with hair dyed an unusual shade of red. She looked up from the Calgary Sun newspaper in her hands.

  “Hello, sugar,” she said. She was chewing gum and grinning at me. “What’s a handsome guy like you doing in a place like this?”

  I stared at the floor and tried to figure out what to say to that.

  She laughed. “Don’t worry, sunshine. I’m just trying to have fun. You can’t imagine what it’s like answering the phone and taking orders for tarantulas or chimpanzees or squid.”

  “How about cockroaches?” I asked.

  “Cockroaches? You want cockroaches? Dead or alive? Of course, they’re so tough to kill, I’ll bet half the dead ones are still kicking by the time they get here.”

  I tried not to think of how they had been crawling on Jason’s belly just before he fainted.

  “Actually,” I said, “I wonder if you can tell me if you’ve sold any in the last couple of weeks.”

  She stopped popping her gum and gave me a hard look. “That’s not information I would usually give out.”

  “Ma’am,” I said, “someone played a nasty joke on a friend of mine. I’ve also been a target of some mean jokes. If I can find out who did them, the pranks might end.”

  She lifted a cup of coffee from her messy desk and took a gulp. “How do these jokes involve cockroaches?”

  I told her how Jason had ripped off his hockey equipment at the beginning of the game against the Lethbridge Hurricanes.

  The woman laughed so hard that she began to cough. To stop her coughing, she lit a cigarette. “That’s a good story, sunshine. Good enough that I’ll do you a favor.”

  She tapped the side of her head with her index finger, showing shiny, dark purple nail polish.

  “I don’t forget anything,” she said, tapping her head again. “A mind like a steel trap. And it was less than three weeks ago I got an order for live cockroaches.”

  “Really!” I couldn’t believe this was actually working.

  “Yup. A Sam Jones. Came by to pick them up himself.”

  “Oh,” I said. Maybe this wasn’t going to work. “Where was he from?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  I had a Red Deer Rebels’ game program folded to fit in my back pocket. I pointed out the photos of Kurt Doyle, Coach Blair and Assistant Coach Kimball.

  She shook her head. “Wasn’t any of them.”

  I pointed at Kimball’s photo. “You’re sure it wasn’t him?”

  She popped another bubble and shook her head. “Weren’t him.”

  I lost all hope. If it wasn’t Kimball, I couldn’t understand who it might be. I took out the envelope of photos. “Could you look through these?” I asked.

  She went through the photos. “Nice-looking girl,” she said. “Why would she hang out with a long-haired goofball like that?”

  “What?” Then I remembered the photos of Cheryl and me in the package. “Um, it’s a long story.”

  “Must be,” the redhaired woman said. She stopped and frowned. “Hey, this is Sam Jones right here.”

  My heart bounced around a few times.

  “No way!” I said.

  “Yes way.” She popped a bubble. She pulled a photograph out of the pile and handed it to me.

  I couldn’t believe what I saw. “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Absotively,” she said. “Posilutely. This is one old girl who don’t ever make mistakes when it comes to faces.”

  I still didn’t want to believe her. But it looked like I had no choice. My next problem was what to do about it.

  chapter eighteen

  I made it back to Red Deer that afternoon well before the three o’clock team practice. I sat in my truck in the nearly empty parking lot of the Centrium for almost ten minutes, trying to work up the courage to go inside. I wasn’t good at asking people for help. But it seemed to be all I could do. So I took a deep breath and stepped out of the truck.

  A cool March breeze brushed my face as I walked toward the side doors of the building. I was walking without my duffel bag of hockey equipment. I had left the bag in the back of the truck. If my plan worked, I would come out again soon to get it. If my plan didn’t work, I might never need the equipment again.

  I found Coach Blair sitting in his office, going over the practice schedule. He was surprised to see me in the doorway.

  “Mac,” he said. “I thought—”

  “Coach, you told me our team needed to stick together.” On the drive back from Calgary, I had memorized what I wanted to say, and I was afraid if I let Coach Blair interrupt me, I might not get the words out right. “You told me if all the guys couldn’t trust someone on the team, it wouldn’t be much of a team.”

  “Yes, but—”

>   “Coach, what if I could get them to trust me? Could I play?”

  “Mac,” he said, “I understand what you’re going through. Really. And I wish you were back on the team. We need you on the blue line. But every one of them is convinced you stole the wallets. I don’t see how you can change their minds.”

  “Will you give me a chance?” I asked.

  He thought for several seconds. “Everyone deserves a chance,” he said slowly. “We’ll go to the dressing room right now. Tell them what you want to say. Then I’ll put it to a team vote.”

  “Thank you,” I said. And I meant it. “There is one thing, though.”

  He frowned. “One thing?”

  “Can you find a way to make sure Teddy doesn’t know about this?”

  “Teddy? Our trainer? I don’t understand.”

  “It’s really important,” I said. I took a deep breath. “He put the cockroaches in Jason’s equipment. I think it means he’s the one who put the wallets in my duffel bag.”

  Coach Blair’s frown deepened. “You’d better have a good reason to say something like that. Explain yourself.”

  I did. From the beginning.

  The dressing room became very quiet when the guys realized I had walked in behind Coach Blair. Too quiet.

  Nothing else had changed. Practice jerseys piled in one corner, lockers half open, sticks everywhere. The smell of old sweat and new sweat and sharp spearmint ointment.

  “Hi, guys,” I said.

  “Come to give us our money back?” Mancini asked. “Or were you hoping we’d left our wallets out for you to steal again?”

  “Give him a break,” Hog Burnell called out.

  “Thanks, Hog.” I hoped my voice wasn’t shaking as badly as my knees.

  “Listen up,” Coach Blair said. “I’ve sent Teddy out to get pizzas. I told him it would be a reward for you guys at the end of practice. But I had another reason.”

  Coach Blair looked around the room. “I don’t want Teddy to know about this. I want you guys to listen to Mac. If you decide he’s not a thief, he’s back on the team.”

  Coach Blair moved to the nearest bench and sat down. “Go ahead, Mac,” he said. “Tell them what you told me.”

  I was the only person standing. All eyes were on me. I probably spoke too fast, and I know I didn’t say everything the way I had planned it. By the time I finished, though, I had managed to explain most of it.

  “The woman at Biology Supply Importers pointed to Teddy’s photo,” I finished. “He bought live cockroaches just before that game against the Hurricanes. I think chances are pretty good he’s the guy who did it. And if he did the cockroaches, I think he’s behind all the other things I just told you about.”

  “I don’t get it,” Jason said. “I’ve never done anything to him.”

  “He wasn’t trying to get you. I think he was trying to get at the team.”

  “But why?” Hog asked.

  “There’s a businessman who wants to buy the team. You guys remember that from the newspapers?”

  Most of the guys nodded.

  “If we don’t make the playoffs,” I said, “the team won’t be worth as much. He could buy it for a lot less and save himself a pile of money. All I can figure is Teddy is working for the man.”

  Hog Burnell stood. He was wearing most of his equipment, and he had his skates on, unlaced.

  “Either Mac is the best liar in the world, or we ought to believe him,” Hog said. “Mac wasn’t here when Robbie’s glove snapped. Mac wouldn’t take a rivet out of his own skate. And I don’t think Mac’s so stupid he would steal our wallets and leave them in his duffel bag.”

  Hog paused for breath. I’d never heard him talk this much. “What I’m saying,” Hog went on, “is I’m glad there seems to be a reason those wallets were stuck in his duffel bag. I didn’t want to believe Mac stole them. And I’d like Mac and his stupid, ugly face back for the rest of the season.”

  “Me too,” Mancini said. “I’m sorry, Mac. I shouldn’t have shot my mouth off.”

  “Stick to shooting pucks,” Jason said to Mancini. “You couldn’t hurt a flea that way.”

  The rest of the guys hooted at the insult. Right then, because no one seemed angry or upset, I knew I’d be back on the team.

  “Anyone think McElhaney doesn’t belong here?” Coach Blair yelled above the laughing.

  Not a single person raised a hand.

  Coach Blair stood and walked over to shake my hand. “Welcome back,” he said.

  “Thank you. I missed this big time.”

  “What about Teddy?” Jason asked. “I’m not real happy about those cockroaches.”

  Coach Blair faced the rest of the team. “I’m going to have a long talk with him. If he doesn’t have a good explanation for those cockroaches, you won’t have to worry about him for the rest of the season.”

  chapter nineteen

  Coach Blair told us later that Teddy didn’t deny the cockroaches. But Teddy didn’t say anything else about them or his other stunts against the team. He just announced he was quitting and walked out of Coach Blair’s office. While we didn’t learn anything more, at least I had been proven innocent. I went back to boarding with the Henrys after telling them the whole story. They seemed relieved.

  By then, however, Teddy had come very close to doing all the damage he needed. After all, I got back onto the team with only thirteen games left in the regular season. We had to win ten of them to make the playoffs. The odds were greatly against us, and Teddy probably thought he had already done enough to keep us out of the playoffs.

  We proved him wrong, though.

  I think it happened because we were so angry that someone had tried to make us lose through dirty tricks. Every time we stepped on the ice for a new game, we played like we were fighting an invasion.

  On the road, we beat the Spokane Chiefs 5–3. Continuing our run south, we went into Portland and hammered the Winter Hawks 9–2. We went up to Seattle and tied the Thunderbirds at five goals each, following it up with another tie—this one 3–3—against the Tacoma Rockets. Our trip into the northwestern states netted us two wins and two ties, equal to three wins in four games.

  It left us needing seven wins out of our last nine games. Tough odds, but we were still mad, and we had never played better.

  Swinging east of Red Deer into the prairie province of Saskatchewan, we stopped in Moose Jaw and tore the Warriors apart, 10–1. In Regina, we hit the Pats harder than we’d hit them all season. Our reward against them was a 7–5 victory. From Regina we traveled north again, and we beat the Saskatoon Blades 6–3.

  Now we were down to six games, but we only needed four wins. We made the mistake of thinking we were already there, because we relaxed when the Tri-City Americans played us in Red Deer. The result? A 5–2 loss in front of a sold-out hometown crowd.

  With five games left, we still needed four wins.

  We tied the Prince Albert Raiders at 4– 4, then tied our next game 2–2 against the visiting Kamloops Blazers. Two ties were worth one win. Three games left, but we needed three wins.

  Could we do it?

  We thought so. The next two games were on the road. First we’d go down to Medicine Hat to play the Tigers, then to Lethbridge to face the Hurricanes. Our final game would be back in Red Deer, again against the Hurricanes.

  We had a two-day break before playing Medicine Hat, and it showed in the energy we had on the ice. Against the Tigers, we busted into a four-goal lead by the end of the first period and stayed in front all the way, finishing with the same four-goal lead at 7–3.

  That left us with two games against the Hurricanes. The first one in Lethbridge. The last one at home in Red Deer. We had to win both games. If the Hurricanes managed to beat us once, or even tie us once, they would make the playoffs. And we would be out.

  Sometimes games are won or lost on good breaks or bad breaks. We won the first game against the Hurricanes because of good breaks. They rang five shots off the
goal- posts in the third period. Five shots so close to scoring that had even one of those shots bounced toward the net instead of away, we would have been shut out of the playoffs. Instead, we barely managed to stay alive, and we beat them in overtime, 4–3.

  Our entire season, then, came down to the final game against the Lethbridge Hurricanes. Whoever won would go to the playoffs.

  I wondered if Teddy might try something to make us lose.

  chapter twenty

  “I’m nervous about tonight’s game,” I told Cheryl right after English class, “real nervous.”

  Standing together in the crowded school hallway, Cheryl and I were a small island with streams of kids flowing around us. The noise of clanging locker doors and shouting and laughing students filled the hall.

  “Nervous? Craig, you’re playing the best hockey of your life. So is the team. And now that Teddy is gone, he won’t be able to do anything to hurt you guys.”

  “I’m still nervous,” I said.

  Cheryl grinned at me. “Be a big boy. Get over it.”

  “Get over it?” I said. “Get over it? It’s not that easy. If we lose or tie, we don’t make the playoffs.”

  “And what’s your point?”

  It still seemed like every time I looked at Cheryl, my heart flip-flopped as if I was seeing her for the first time. I wanted to tell her that. I wanted to tell her how important it was that she and I were friends. But I couldn’t. If she knew how much I cared, she would be able to hurt me. I couldn’t allow myself the risk.

  Instead of telling her what was going through my mind as I watched her smile, I said, “My point? I’ve told you how I worry and worry about making mistakes during a big game. I’m afraid tonight will be the game where I fold under pressure.”

  “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go outside where it’s quiet.”

  “We’ll be late for our classes.”

  “Worse things have happened,” she said.

  She took me by the hand and pulled me through the swarms of kids in the hall. I didn’t know if this was good or bad. Cheryl never skipped classes, never showed up late.