All-Star Pride

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All-Star Pride Page 9

by Sigmund Brouwer


  As for Nadia, she turned out to be okay. She had liked my plan to deliver the artwork to the camera crew after all. And though she never actually told me, I was sure Nadia was the one who leaked the rumors about the art smuggling to the authorities. I’d always have a secret smile whenever I thought of her. She’d risked her life to torch those paintings.

  She’d sent me a letter too, one I kept in my wallet and read at least three times a day. Not only did it include an invitation back to Russia, but it had enough sweet stuff in it to let me believe she could fall for a big, battered hockey player.

  “Yeah,” my brother was saying, “the coolest part was when the big guy in the blue suit spit on the customs guy who was handcuffing him and—”

  The phone rang.

  “I’ll get it,” I said, leaving Dad, Mom and my brother to channel-surf the big screen in the living room.

  “Burnells’,” I said into the telephone.

  “I’m looking for Timothy,” the voice replied.

  “That’s me.”

  “Tim, it’s Fred Duluth. I’m an agent in Toronto. I represent about twenty-five NHL players.”

  I stood up straight.

  “I just saw the East Versus West Shootout,” he said. “You played some great hockey. Better than great. I can see you going a long way in the NHL.”

  Dad was shouting from the living room. “Who is it, Hog?”

  I put my hand over the mouthpiece. “Tell you later,” I shouted back. I spoke into the phone again. “That’s very nice of you to say, Mr. Duluth.”

  “Call me Fred.” He paused. “Look, I’d like you to sign with me. I think I can get you an impressive contract come the NHL draft.”

  I was so surprised I couldn’t say anything.

  He spoke again. His voice sounded worried, like I’d said nothing because I wasn’t interested. “Timothy, you haven’t signed with anyone yet, have you?”

  “Um, no,” I answered.

  “Excellent. Why don’t you promise me you won’t until I have a chance to meet with you and your folks?”

  “Well, uh—”

  “I’m on the first flight out tomorrow morning,” he said. “I can meet all of you for lunch. Deal?”

  This was happening fast. I thought it through as best I could and decided this was a situation where money had a price I could afford. I figured I could even persuade Dad to leave the house for this.

  “Lunch sounds good, Mr. Duluth.”

  He took directions from me, confirmed the time he would meet us and hung up.

  “Dad!” I shouted. “Mom! You won’t believe who just called. It was an—”

  The ringing telephone interrupted.

  “Burnells’.”

  “I’m looking for Timothy Burnell,” the voice said.

  “That’s me.”

  “Timothy, my name is John Clarke. I’m an agent in Toronto, and I’m calling because I just saw you on television. You haven’t heard from any other agents, have you?”

  More titles in the Orca Sports series

  Jumper

  by Michele Martin Bossley

  Rebel Glory

  by Sigmund Brouwer

  Tiger Threat

  by Sigmund Brouwer

  photo: Bill Bilsley

  Sigmund Brouwer is a prolific, best-selling author of books in a number of genres. He lives in Red Deer, Alberta, and Nashville, Tennessee.

  Sigmund enjoys visiting schools to talk about his books. Interested teachers can find out more by e-mailing: [email protected]

 

 

 


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