by David Skuy
The Hornets kept up the pressure, and came close to tying it up several times. With forty seconds to go, after an icing call against the Rebels, the Hornets pulled their goalie for an extra attacker. The Hornets’ supporters clapped and cheered their team on. The Rebels’ supporters were quiet, fearing the worst.
The Hornets’ centre carried it into the Rebels’ zone. Charlie tried to catch him, but he was so tired he could hardly move. The puck slid back to the Hornets right defenceman against the boards. He promptly fired it across the blue line to his defence partner who promptly one-timed it at the net.
Clank.
The puck bounced off the post. Charlie almost felt sorry for the Hornets. That made three goal posts in the third period, and they’d also missed a bunch of easy chances. Christopher flicked the puck up the boards. Zachary was too slow to get there, and the puck dribbled to the point. The defenceman hesitated, and then passed it down low to the left winger. He immediately curled into the slot and whipped a beautiful pass to the right defenceman bearing down on goal.
Martin was screened and out of position. The Hornets player reared back and let it fly. Charlie thought it was a sure goal, when at the last second Robert threw himself in front of the powerful blast. The puck hit him just over the knee and spun back to the blue line. The other defenceman raced over and raised his stick for a slapshot. Charlie summoned every last bit of energy and swung his stick at the puck. The shooter’s stick smacked him full on the facemask.
Charlie heard the crowd roar. He turned to look back at his net. Martin was leaning against the crossbar. Robert was still lying on the ice holding his knee. Where was the puck? Charlie was still looking around when Zachary pulled him to his feet.
“What happened?” he asked stupidly.
“Puck’s in the net, dude,” Zachary said, his lopsided grin firmly in place.
“I can’t believe they scored,” Charlie said.
“Not your best goal,” Jonathon said, “but maybe the sweetest.”
He shook his head, unable to follow. “What do you mean, my goal?”
“Take a look, dude,” Zachary said, pointing at the Hornets’ net.
Charlie’s desperate swing had connected, and the puck had miraculously slid the length of the ice and into the net. “Don’t tell me we’re actually going to win,” he said.
“I’m afraid so, bud,” Zachary said.
Charlie skated over to Robert. He was gingerly flexing his knee.
“That took reckless to a new level,” he said. “Thanks for winning the game for us.”
“The team won, not me.”
Charlie helped him to his feet. He gave his helmet a tap.
“You’re right,” he said. “But it takes players like you for a team to win.” He put his arm under Robert’s elbow. “You need help getting off?”
“I’m good,” Robert said.
Charlie admired his courage. No way this tough defenceman was going to let someone carry him off. Charlie would have liked to go off too. Matt had his head down on the bench, so he had to stay on. With a two-goal lead, Charlie was content to let his scowling opponent win the draw. He dropped back to defend against a final charge. The Hornets players stormed down the ice and almost got another goal in the final ten seconds, when the buzzer sounded.
“Woo-hoo!” Scott put his arm across Charlie’s back. “The Rebels are undefeated,” he crowed.
Charlie laughed. They’d already done something Dunn’s team couldn’t do — they’d won a game! Granted, it wasn’t pretty. They’d have to learn to pace themselves. Conditioning was a huge problem, and they’d have to be better organized. Against the stronger teams in the league they’d have to take their game to another level — and they needed to practise. Still, it was totally awesome to win; and they’d done it all themselves.
Pudge came over and held up his glove. Charlie reached up and gave it a punch. “Relax, Joyce. Lots of time to worry about the next game — for now, just enjoy this win.”
He put an arm across Pudge’s shoulders.
“I figured out the colour of our sweaters,” he said.
“Yeah?” Pudge said.
“It’s championship rose.”
“You’ve lost it again, dude.”
Charlie gave Pudge’s helmet a whack, and Pudge responded with a light punch to his ribs. Together they skated off the ice. Charlie could hear his teammates celebrating on their way to the dressing room. He didn’t feel tired at all now. He felt like he could play another game — well, almost.
The Rebels were undefeated. How cool was that?
19
SUDS
The sound of grinding wheels caught his attention, and as he turned towards the sound he saw Zachary flying down the hill on his long board, hands behind his back, holding what looked like a piece of wood.
“Yo, Zachary. Slow down or you’ll get a speeding ticket.”
He did a big curve to stop. “Got a present for you, dude,” Zachary said. He dropped the piece of wood to the pavement and kicked it, and it rolled over to him. “Not the newest model, and it’s a bit hacked up. I asked my bro and he said he didn’t need it. It’s a pretty quick board. The wheels are a bit too hard for my taste — they’re like an 85A — gotta be careful on turns big time and slow down cause you can seriously drift. And maybe the wheels are a little small. Good for quick starts though. The bushings are kind of shot, but a little oiling and they’ll be cool.”
Charlie picked it up and spun the wheels a few times. The wheels were worn and the deck had definitely seen better days. The rails were scratched and big chunks were missing from the nose. He didn’t care, though. It was a long board. Now he could race with his friends on The Hill, or keep up when they went for a ride.
“Zachary, thanks. That’s totally cool.” He hesitated before adding, “Are you sure it’s okay? I mean, are you sure your brother doesn’t need it …?”
“The dude’s got like five boards. He wants you to have it.”
Charlie was totally blown away. He held out his fist and Zachary punched it.
“We’d better hustle,” Charlie said. “We’re late already.”
Zachary set off down the hill. Charlie picked up his short board and hopped onto the long board to follow. He couldn’t believe the difference in acceleration.
“I see the guys at the gas station,” Zachary said over his shoulder.
Charlie merely nodded in reply. He had to concentrate. He wasn’t used to this kind of speed. Zachary pulled in first, and Charlie rolled in behind and stopped next to Pudge.
“You’ve finally decided to join the long board world,” Pudge said.
Charlie flashed a grin. “Not the latest model, but Zachary’s brother had an extra.”
“Cool. I was getting tired of waiting for you all the time.”
“Me too,” Charlie said, and they both laughed. “Nice of Mr. Stanton to let us use his gas station.”
Pudge held his hands out. “Just another satisfied customer at Bruno’s Bistro.”
Charlie looked up to the sky. “Perfect weather. Who wouldn’t want their car washed by the members of the famous Terrence Falls Rebels?”
“We could use the money,” Pudge said. “Brent can get us team helmets for around eighty bucks each. That’s a serious discount, but once you add the tax, it still comes out to about a thousand dollars. Every bit will help.”
“Helmets would be nice,” Zachary said. “Right now we look like we’re from ten different teams.”
Matt, Scott and Nick joined them.
“How much have we raked in so far?” Charlie asked.
“Forty dollars,” Pudge said.
“Halfway to a helmet,” Zachary said.
Julia and two other girls crossed the street and walked towards them. “Hi guys,” Julia said. “What’re you up to?”
As soon as they got close, Jonathon sent a short blast of water at them, which garnered screams of protest.
“Thought you were a car,” Jona
thon said. “Sorry about that.”
Julia grabbed a clean towel from a bucket and wiped her face dry. “Very funny. Now, why are you hanging out at Stanton’s Gas Station on a Saturday morning?”
“We just love the gas station atmosphere — all that drippy oil,” Scott said.
“Looks to me like a fundraiser,” Julia said.
“Okay, we’re busted,” Jonathon said. “Car wash fundraiser it is.”
“How’s it going?” she said.
“We were just discussing finances. We’ve amassed forty dollars to date,” Jonathon answered.
She whistled. “In how long?”
“Two days,” Scott said.
The girls laughed.
“I’m being rude,” Julia said. “I think some of you may know Rebecca from school. And this is Alexandra. She’s new in Terrence Falls.”
They all said hi. Charlie had seen Rebecca before. She’d played on the Terrence Falls hockey team with Julia. Alexandra was an attractive girl, quite tall, but maybe not as pretty as Julia. As usual, Charlie was tongue-tied around the girls, but Jonathon and Scott had no such problem and kept the girls laughing with a steady stream of jokes. Two more cars came, and Charlie busied himself with washing and drying. When no one was looking, Julia hooked up a spare hose and took revenge by dousing Jonathon. Charlie laughed and turned to wave to a departing customer. That’s when a blast of cold water hit his back.
He spun around. Julia and her friends were doubled over.
“Why me? I’m innocent!” he said.
“You’re all guilty,” Julia said, and she promptly sprayed him again. Everyone was laughing now.
“We should get going. Have fun, boys,” Julia said.
Charlie went to dry himself off. Julia came over. “What time do you play tonight?” she asked as Charlie was folding some towels.
“Game’s at 7:30.”
“I play at 6:00. I’ll stick around and watch.”
“Great. It should be a real test — the Snow Birds.”
“Good luck.”
He waved to her as she left, and then braced himself for some ribbing as Scott came over.
“You ever seen Alexandra before?” he asked.
Charlie shook his head. “Why?”
“No reason. I thought she looked familiar.”
“Did she look like a girlfriend?”
Scott gave Charlie a good-natured shove. “Maybe,” he said. “Maybe.”
Scott tossed a soapy sponge at Nick, who picked up a dirty bucket of water. He was about to toss it when Charlie intervened.
Business began to pick up and they washed a bunch of cars. Then a large, black truck sped over the curb, bouncing slightly, and skidded to a halt.
The screeching tires startled Charlie, and tinted windows made it impossible to see inside. Charlie’s heart sank when Jake, Thomas, Liam and Roscoe spilled out.
Through the driver’s side window a deep voice instructed them to “Make it shine, boys.” The window closed and the door opened.
Charlie guessed he was Jake’s father. He had his son’s jet-black hair and broad shoulders. He wore sunglasses, which he lifted to his forehead. A cigar burned between his thick fingers. As he closed the door a beer can tumbled to the pavement. He picked it up and tossed it back in the car.
“That was weird,” he whispered to Pudge.
“I hear he drinks a bit too much,” Pudge whispered back. “My dad … I heard him talking to my mom …”
Jake’s father spotted Pudge. He came over and shook his hand. “Nice to see you again, son. You haven’t been around much lately since you aren’t playing for the Wildcats. Is your dad well?”
“He’s doing good,” Pudge replied.
Charlie could smell the beer on his breath. For the first time he actually felt sorry for Jake. Must be tough to have a father who drinks.
“Glad to hear it. Got to get to his restaurant again one of these days. Great guy — the best. Send him my regards.” He looked to his left. “Is that Mr. Danko?” He took a deep puff on his cigar. “Where’ve you been hiding?”
Matt shuffled his feet, clearing his throat a few times. “I’ve been real busy lately.”
“Well, don’t be a stranger. I remember when you used to practically live at our house. Speaking of which, your old man was helping me out not too long ago. I have some more work for him. My basement is a total mess. I need it cleaned out. Tell him I’ll call. I’ve been out of town on business, but I’ll make some time. Tell him, okay?”
Matt’s face was beet red. “Okay,” he said.
Jake’s dad blew a smoke ring. “So who’re you playing hockey for this year?”
“Playing with these guys — the Rebels. This is a team fundraiser.”
“That’s cool. I’m glad I stopped. Glad to help out. Jake was filling me in. You’re like an expansion team. Might not win too many games this year. But hey, hockey’s supposed to be for fun, right?” He laughed deeply and winked.
Charlie had mixed feelings. Jake’s dad didn’t seem like such a bad guy. But then why embarrass Matt like that in front of all the guys?
“I’m just gonna get some mints inside,” Jake’s dad said. “Jakey, why don’t you catch up with your buds?” He walked inside the garage.
The two groups faced each other. Charlie worried about a brawl. Mr. Stanton would be furious.
“This whole feud thing is getting stale,” he said, hoping to defuse the tension. “We’ll just wash this car, and you can go on your way. Save your trash talk for another day.”
“Joyce, you always underestimate me,” Jake said. “I wanted to say how much I admire your courage … yes, that’s the word … your courage … for starting up the Rebels. I was saying that to Liam not five minutes ago, wasn’t I, Liam?”
“Absolutely. It might even have been three minutes,” Liam said.
Charlie didn’t respond. If he reacted, his friends would do the same, and a fight would be inevitable.
“I hear your sweaters have a unique design — and what colour would you say they are?” Jake asked.
“A brilliant pink, I believe,” Liam said.
“Technically, I think it’s ballet pink,” Jake said.
“Whatever colour, it makes you sick to look at them,” Thomas said.
“Not as sick as watching them play,” Roscoe said.
That broke them up.
“Jake, you’re a broken record,” Charlie said.
“And you’ll have a broken neck after our game on Sunday,” Jake said.
“Why don’t we settle it now?” Scott said.
“Forget him,” Charlie said. “He’s not worth the effort.”
“I’d like to oblige you, dude, but not with Dad around,” Jake said. “But I’ll be sure to run your head through the boards, just for old times’ sake.”
Charlie, Dylan and Zachary finished washing the truck.
Scott snorted in disgust and walked away, wringing out a wet towel. Charlie knew what Scott really wanted to wring out!
Jake’s father returned.
“Matt and Pudge, really nice to see you again. Hope you can come by the house,” he said. The two boys nodded.
“Here’s ten bucks for the wash. Looks like you did a bang-up job. Thanks.”
They watched in silence as the truck pulled away.
“I say rip that money up. It might have touched Jake,” Scott said.
“Second that,” Matt said.
Charlie ignored their suggestion. It would be pointless.
“Car,” Pudge shouted.
Charlie wandered over with the towels. His English teacher and former hockey coach stepped out.
“This must be my lucky day,” Hilton said. “I was just thinking about how I’d find the time to clean this filthy vehicle, and I come across a fine crop of hockey players providing that very service.”
“Step aside, Mr. Hilton,” Charlie said. “We’ll get this done in no time.”
The arrival of his former coac
h made him forget about what had just happened. Everyone seemed in good spirits as they washed the car. The twins sprayed the outside. Next, Scott, Nick and Matt attacked it with large foamy sponges. The twins gave it another soaking, and Charlie, Pudge, Zachary and Dylan dried it off.
Hilton caught Charlie’s eye.
“How’s the team doing?” he asked.
He stopped drying and stood up.
“We won our first game against the Hornets — barely, but we won. We also beat the Tornadoes 3–0. We lost to the Tigers 5–3, but it was close. The next two games will be the real test. Tonight we play the Snow Birds, and then the Wildcats on Sunday.”
“Sounds as if you’re off to a solid start.”
“We could use a few more guys. We tend to run out of steam by the third period, what with only two forward lines. The Snow Birds will kill us if we slow down. I think we need to play defensive, conserve our energy until later in the game. Otherwise, we could be in trouble.”
“Can I make a suggestion?”
“Of course.”
By this time the others had formed a semi-circle around Hilton.
“Send the puck in deep as often as you can, and only one forechecker. The other two forwards line up across the blue line, the defence a bit back. I’ve seen them play. Their defencemen love to rush. Stop them before they get going and force some passes. Clog the middle and make them go outside. You should get some good chances off turnovers.”
“I think we’re finished your car,” Pudge said.
Hilton examined it. “Looks great. So what’s the cost for this service?”
“We accept any size donation,” Scott said, “and have I ever mentioned what an amazing privilege it was to have such a superb tactician behind the bench for the high school hockey tournament?”
“Easy does it, Scott,” Hilton said, laughing.
“It’s ten dollars,” Charlie said, giving Scott a dirty look.
Hilton pulled out his wallet and handed Charlie a twenty-dollar bill.
