The Ice Chips and the Grizzly Escape

Home > Other > The Ice Chips and the Grizzly Escape > Page 11
The Ice Chips and the Grizzly Escape Page 11

by Roy MacGregor


  Before the ball hockey tournament, Mrs. Finnigan and Speedy had put an ad in the local paper asking if anyone had old equipment they’d like to donate. More people than they’d ever thought had answered. Following Speedy’s instructions, they’d all come out to the auction room on the day of the competition and dropped off old hockey bags, sticks, and various bits and pieces.

  A few items had gone to Jack, who’d already signed himself up for Riverton’s sort-outs for next season (with some help from Mayor Ward’s brand-new hockey scholarship, which is how he’d ended up at summer hockey camp in the first place). Some equipment had also gone to the Bears, and the rest was going to be placed in a special corner of the Whatsit Shop, near where Mrs. Finnigan’s autographed hockey photos were hung. Anyone who was in need could take some used equipment for free, but there would also be a sign next to it: “Donations to our breakfast program welcome.”

  “Honestly, I liked the howling better,” Lucas said, pretending to give up his chase by helping his mom organize the equipment on the table. “If he doesn’t give it back, I’m going to have to take away his superpowers again.”

  “Oh, don’t. Please,” said Lucas’s mom, shaking her head. “He cried for hours last time. And all you did was scoop the air in front of his face with your hand and tell him he couldn’t go invisible anymore.”

  “Well . . . he couldn’t,” said Lucas with a shrug.

  His mom just looked at him, annoyed.

  “Almost ready!!” came a shout from beside the back deck.

  Mouth Guard and Mr. Finnigan were over by the barbecue, roasting vegetables and the trout Lucas’s parents had mysteriously found in the freezer. Neither remembered catching or buying it. And Lucas hadn’t said a word.

  “We’re eating lunch soon, boobaloo!” Lucas shouted toward the tree where Connor was hiding. “You’re going to have to come back here eventually!”

  “NEVERRRRRRR!” Connor yelled back before launching into his wolf howl.

  WHOOOOOOO-AHH-OOOO-RRRR-OOOO!

  Wooo-ROOOOO-AHH-OOOO!!!

  Normally, Connor’s howl just hung in the air, waiting for a reaction from Lucas. But this time, from around the side of the house, there was an answer.

  Wouuh-ROOO-AHH-OO!!!

  The sound was shorter, quieter, but it was there. Lucas would have thought it was just an echo if he hadn’t heard an excited whining come after it—that continued.

  “Shhhhh!” he heard someone say from that same direction. “You’re going to ruin the surprise!”

  “Shayna?” Lucas shouted toward the side of the house.

  But it wasn’t Shayna who rounded the corner and ran across the grass toward him.

  It was the most adorable fluffy puppy that Lucas had ever seen!

  “Surprise!” yelled August as she, Nolan, and Shayna jumped out from beside the house, clapping and laughing. Nolan was capturing the whole thing on his phone: the puppy tackling Lucas; Connor, immediately jealous, jumping in; and the puppy jumping on and licking both of them like they were made of ice cream.

  “But wait! Can we . . . ? What if my . . . ? Is she for us?” Lucas asked, wide-eyed, looking up at his mom.

  “She is,” said Mrs. Finnigan, giving the Atlookan cousins a little wink. “When Shayna and Nolan’s neighbour rescued that dog of theirs, they found out she was pregnant. Your dad and I went over to have a look. And—”

  “And . . . we decided that the Ice Chips could use a rink dog!” said Mr. Finnigan, carrying over some plates.

  “The Ice Chips and our family,” corrected Lucas’s mom. “What do you boys think?”

  “I think I’m going to be a dog babysitter when I’m a daddy!” cried Connor, who was rolling around on the ground with the puppy as though they’d come out of the same litter. “Selfie cheese! Selfie cheeeeeese!” he shouted, grinning, when he saw that Nolan had his camera out.

  “Oh! Gau!” said Mouth Guard, dropping the forks and knives he was carrying when he saw the puppy.

  “You think we should name her Gau?” asked Lucas, not sure it was something he would have picked.

  “No, that’s the Cantonese word for ‘dog,’” said Mouth Guard proudly. He looked at Shayna and blushed. “Sorry, my dad and I have been working on starting a Cantonese hiking club. It’s the first word that popped out of my mouth.”

  “We were talking about a name on the way over here,” said Shayna. “I mean, obviously you get to choose. But Nolan did have one idea . . .”

  Lucas, who was laughing while he watched Connor get pummelled by the dog, had heard the cue. This was about more than the dog.

  He was already nodding yes when Nolan made the sign for “bear.”

  * * *

  In the dressing room for their final week of hockey camp, many of the Stars were silent. Their team had lost the championship—the Golden Grail—at the end of last season. And now they’d also lost a summer ball hockey tournament.

  “We are STARS,” Lucas had heard Coach Blitz whisper loudly to his kids, Beatrice and Jared, over by the water fountain in the community arena that morning. “Now, you’d better act like stars and stop all this losing. We’ve got sort-outs in just a few weeks, and this year, I’m going to make sure we get some fabulous players—a winning team. And I mean WITH or WITHOUT you two.”

  Jared had kicked a fallen skate guard across the floor before walking off to the dressing room, and Beatrice had actually shuddered. Neither of the Blitz twins had spoken. Mouth Guard, having missed what happened, told Beatrice that if she was cold, she could always take his stolen long johns off the wall and wear them. He’d smiled, proud that he’d defended himself for once, and Beatrice had stuck out her tongue like she always did.

  Shayna tossed her bag down beside Lucas in the dressing room. “How’s Bear?” she asked. She was in the spot where Swift usually sat; for some reason, the goalie wasn’t there yet. Neither was Nolan.

  “She’s great,” said Lucas. “I just hope she doesn’t mind her babysitter. Connor was running after her all evening like she was one of his stuffed animals. I think he even had a costume for her. Do dogs wear pirate hats?”

  Shayna giggled. She’d always thought Connor was hilarious.

  “I was wondering,” she said, suddenly sounding a little more serious. “We saw that your mom has started a little free library at the Whatsit Store, to go along with the coffee shop. Is she taking book donations like she took hockey equipment?”

  “Of course!” said Lucas, excited that the Whatsit Shop was starting to become some kind of hangout for him and his friends.

  Shayna said that her family had a few American Sign Language books they didn’t need anymore and could donate.

  “That’s awesome,” said Lucas. “Did I tell you one of the librarians came over and gave us a pile of kids’ books after the ball hockey tournament? A lot of them are by First Nations writers, and she recommended some more. They’re really great.”

  “I doubt any of those will teach you to fly-fish,” Shayna said with a smile. “But I’m glad you’re reading them.”

  “LUCAAAAS!” Swift had burst into the change room fully dressed, but then she stopped and looked around. Slapper and Lars were there. Jessie Bonino. The Face. Jared. And Jack Dangle. She was going to have to speak in code to Lucas and Shayna. “Did either of you come into the rink really early this morning or really late last night?”

  Lucas stared at her, confused. Why is she talking about this in front of everyone? Does she want us to get caught again?

  “No,” Shayna answered nervously. Nolan had come up behind Swift. He was also in full equipment and was carrying his light-up puck.

  Looking at Lucas and Shayna, he signed as discreetly as he could: “If you didn’t break into the rink, then someone else did.”

  Chapter 19

  The ice sessions during the final week of hockey camp turned out to better than Lucas had expected. He didn’t miss Edge on his line anymore because there were no lines. In fact, is this even hockey? Du
ring the final few days, Coach Small and Speedy had had other ideas for their ice time. And Lucas was kind of enjoying it.

  The players practised kick passes by tossing their sticks onto the benches and using a soccer ball instead of a puck.

  They tried scoring “lacrosse goals” by picking the puck up behind the net and swinging it around to the front, seemingly stuck on the blade of their sticks. They were supposed to then toss the black disk in over the shoulders of Swift, the Face, and Zia, who were just pretending to block. But no one could score—no one except Jack and Mouth Guard.

  “You have to keep the motion fluid,” Lucas said to Blades and Lars. The two of them, scared that they’d drop the puck, had been slowing down, hesitating. Without enough force to keep it in place, the puck had been sliding right off their sticks.

  Lucas couldn’t do the trick, either, but he’d helped Mouth Guard figure it out. And he was pretty good with words. He’d thought a lot about how to explain the magic of Jack’s fancy moves. And Shayna, who was turning out to be Riverton’s youngest language expert, had helped, too. Jack, who had actually played lacrosse, was the demonstrator, and Shayna and Lucas were the describers.

  “By ‘fluid,’ Lucas means that you have to keep moving without changing your speed and without stopping,” Shayna said, jumping in. “You’ll get it. Don’t worry!” She knew it helped to be encouraging.

  Next, the summer hockey kids did what Speedy called a “bag skate”—really just wind sprints, but on ice. They went end to end, stopping and starting at the blue lines and red centre line. The kids hadn’t played a moment of real hockey that morning, but they were as sweaty and exhausted as if they’d played four overtimes in the playoffs.

  “We have to talk about the break-in,” Swift whispered to Lucas when he’d gone up to make his shot (and missed). He nodded. She was right. But there was a time and a place for those kinds of discussions. This wasn’t one of them.

  “Are you sad that you’ll be going back up north soon?” Dynamo asked August as they moved up in the line in front of the net.

  “Not really,” said August. “I love it there—it’s my home.”

  “Would you leave it to play hockey professionally, though?” This was Jessie Bonino, who, like Swift, often talked about going pro or playing in the Olympics. Her first step, of course, would be to make it out of house league and onto one of Riverton’s recreational teams. Both the Chips and the Stars had said they’d be happy to have her this coming season.

  “I would like to play professionally . . . for a bit,” said August, getting ready since she was up next. “And then I’d probably do what Brigette Lacquette did and take my medal—if I get one—to all the First Nation communities across the country. Showing that obstacles can be overcome is really, really important.”

  “I’ll go back there, too—eventually,” Shayna said, shyly, as August skated away to try the trick on net. “But I’m going to study science first. Water. I want to bring something back to my community, too.”

  When it was Slapper’s turn, he didn’t do the trick at all, but instead took a slapshot at the Face’s net and then got in trouble. “I can’t do the trick!” he complained, looking frustrated and banging his stick.

  “You don’t have to be able to do it,” said Coach Small, patting his defenceman on the back. “What’s important is that you practise it. Push yourself a little.”

  There was a whistle just before Lucas was up again. Speedy was gathering the summer players in the middle of the rink to make another announcement.

  “We’re going to split you up into four teams,” he said, trying to talk over the sound of moving skates and kids fiddling with pucks and sticks. “To finish up this last morning, we’re going to play a couple of games on half-ice.”

  “Yesssss!” said Jared, who always preferred a competition to drills.

  “Who picks the teams?” asked Beatrice, looking at August, hopeful.

  “Lucas? Shayna?” asked Speedy. “Do you want to help choose the teams?”

  Lucas looked up. Really? “Does that mean we’re the captains—me and Shayna?” Can I be captain one last time before it’s all over?

  “Not exactly,” said Coach Small, who was often short on words. He was surprised to see Lucas wilt right away, and he quickly tapped his assistant on the shoulder.

  “Naw, man,” Speedy said, smiling. “You and Shayna will be two of our coaches.”

  * * *

  Slapper was standing in front of Bond and Mouth Guard in his white long johns in the dressing room. He was trying to convince them that the Chips needed to build a clubhouse before school started, but Lucas had decided that this was his best chance to figure out what was going on at their arena.

  “What makes you think someone broke in?” he asked Swift, whispering as he refolded his jersey for the third time, trying to look like he was still undressing.

  “Nolan and I came in to test his puck invention early this morning,” said Swift, looking around suspiciously. “He needed a goalie, and he knew I had that key . . .”

  “And?” Lucas asked.

  On the other side of the dressing room, Nolan had been able to read their lips. “The door was already open—unlocked,” he signed, as Lucas’s eyebrows twisted.

  Edge? Slapper? Lucas wondered, mouthing their names. Or worse—Beatrice? Jared?

  Beatrice was in the corner of the dressing room, laughing with August and Shayna. She was cupping her hands over her mouth and blowing into them like they were, but the sound that came out of her “instrument” was less like the call of a beautiful loon on a lake and more like the noise that came out of Mouth Guard’s armpit.

  “We DON’T KNOW,” Swift whispered as she zipped up her bag. “But we’re going to have to find out because . . . well, there’s another thing.”

  Lucas moved in closer.

  When she and Nolan had dimmed the lights to see how well the glowing puck worked, she said, two people had come into the rink and started talking. They didn’t see the two kids. They were busy. They were fighting.

  “It was Quiet Dave and his daughter, the mayor,” she said, her eyes wide, as though Lucas should know why that was scary. “The first thing Dave said was that someone had been snooping in his office, moving things around. But that’s all I could make out.”

  “You think this person wanted something from Dave’s office?” asked Lucas, trying to attack the mystery like Crunch would. “Do you think that’s what they were fighting about? Why wouldn’t it just be about that meeting they had? Or because they’re family?”

  “No—yes! I don’t know!” said Swift, “The only thing I do know is what we found after they left.”

  Lucas waited.

  “Scratch! We found him hidden in a big weird closet,” she said, her eyes unblinking. “Dave never took him away like he said he would. Scratch is still in the arena!”

  “Do you think someone else could be leaping?” Nolan signed toward Lucas, careful that no one else was looking.

  Lucas blinked and then suddenly walked away. He was barely out of the dressing room when he said, “Seventeen”—Edge’s number—into his comm-band.

  * * *

  “You CANNOT talk to Quiet Dave about this,” Edge said from the three-point line of the basketball court beside the school. He was shaking his head, squinting in the sunlight. “Remember our new rule? NO ADULTS ALLOWED—ever!”

  Lucas was sitting on the picnic table, his favourite spot from which to watch Edge shoot. After he’d called his best friend, they’d both still had to make it through the afternoon at their own camps. Edge had practised his layups while Lucas had gone to the pool for a final dip with the other hockey campers.

  The Chips’ centre had told Bond about the break-in while they were swimming, and he’d told Mouth Guard about it while he was drying in the sun, playing with a deck of cards (Mouth Guard didn’t swim).

  At first, Lucas had thought they should all meet at the basketball court, but only Edge had be
en able to come out.

  “This is big news,” said Lucas, panicking. “If someone else is breaking into the rink, what do we do? What if they’re using Scratch? What if they’re leaping through time?”

  “Maybe there’s nothing we can do,” said Edge, sinking a basket off the backboard. “I mean, what exactly are you worried will happen?”

  Lucas couldn’t believe his friend was being so calm about this. “Uhhh . . . that they could go back in time and change the history of hockey forever?” he said, shocked. “What if it’s Slapper? What if it’s Beatrice? Or Jared? Could you imagine if Coach Blitz got his hands on that portal?”

  “What if the open door doesn’t mean anything?” said Edge. He was worried, but he was also optimistic. “What if someone just left it unlocked by mistake? And what if Quiet Dave messed up his own office but forgot?”

  “No, no. No—I can feel it,” said Lucas, rubbing his lucky quarter. “This is bad. It is big news, like I told you.”

  “You know what else is big news?” asked Edge, sinking another basket, then another. “My mom told me that the organizers of the Hockey Heart Cup will be announcing the winners tomorrow.”

  Chapter 20

  “Is this everyone?” Lucas asked cheerfully, placing the tray of breakfast crepes down on one of the cafe tables. During the week, his parents’ new breakfast club served simple things like muffins, cereal, and toast, but on the weekends, the Finnigans went all out. One Stars’ defender’s two dads owned a bakery that donated some pastries each week. Lucas’s dad made the orange juice at home, and a few other parents helped out when they could.

  “Almost! Jack Dangle and Mouth Guard are coming, too,” said Swift, drawing a jar of chocolate spread toward her with her knife.

  “They’re outside practising some kind of combo. Or duo? Duet, maybe?” said Bond. “They’re working on a fancy trick where one of them spins the puck around and then flips it to the other one . . . I dunno.”

 

‹ Prev