Beatrice seemed more on edge than she’d ever been. Jessie Bonino, who’d been playing house league for only a year, was nervous, too. The two girls had their helmets pressed up to the glass to watch the Zamboni flood the ice before the Ravens’ first game.
“Don’t worry,” said Swift, stepping up beside her new teammates. “We can do this.”
“We’d better,” said Beatrice, nodding with a hopeful smile.
Lucas and Edge had stopped at the tuck shop before heading in to take their seats. Lucas was behind the Ravens’ bench, chewing on some licorice and ready to help if needed, and Edge was munching on a bag of chips over at the “media” table, where he’d be calling the plays for the game.
Mouth Guard, Lars, and Crunch—the Chips’ math nut was now armed with a notepad and that silly cookie sheet he’d been calling his “model”—were in the stands. And not far from Lucas was Jared Blitz. He, too, was behind the Ravens’ bench, working as the equipment guy for the Stars’ girls. Lucas could hardly believe that he was now hanging around with the very player who had butt-ended him, but like Swift, he hadn’t had much of a choice.
Soon, with a loud “AND THEY’RE OFF!” from Edge, the puck was dropped.
To the shock of most of the girls on the team, the Ravens won their first match easily. Blades played on a line with Beatrice and Jessie Bonino, and Bond played defence with Shayna Atlookan, another Stars player. Swift, of course, was in net. She was always in net.
In their second match, against a team from Montreal, the Ravens were again surprised, this time winning in a shootout. Beatrice, scoring the winning goal in a nail-biter, had even used the invisible puck trick to fake out the goalie!
“Aaaaaand it’s Beatrice Blitz with the Bliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitzkrieg Bop!” is what Edge yelled into the microphone as the other boys cheered, danced, and sang the Ramones song that went with it—one of their favourite rink tunes. Not even Mouth Guard, who loved to point out the obvious, had to mention that it was a goal.
The games were shorter than usual and the tournament moved along faster than Swift had expected. Still, she found she needed to rotate and stretch her wrist during pauses. She knew she should ice it, but there was just no time.
Next came a team from Ottawa. They were the Novice Sens, and they wore black-and-red uniforms that looked like kid-sized Ottawa Senators jerseys. They had four coaches, all in suits.
The Sens were flashy and well organized. Even their entrance onto the ice seemed to have been rehearsed a million times.
This was the game that would decide if the Ravens made it to the semifinals.
By the end of the first period, Henry Blitz was already angrier than the Chips had ever seen him. And when Blades was called for tripping one of the Ottawa players, he turned so red he looked on the verge of blowing hot lava out of his ears. Luckily, the mayor—the team’s real coach—said he had to either calm down or go home. There was no place for that here.
When their assistant coach took a long breath and then tried to give them instructions again, all Swift could picture was the red-faced ten-year-old who had smashed his stick over her crossbar at the Olympics long, long ago.
“We have to give the girls some room to make choices for themselves,” Mayor Ward warned him. “Step back a bit and let them figure it out.”
Ace played with Blitz for all those years, thought Lucas, overhearing. She obviously knows how to handle him . . . and knows how to get him to back off.
Of course, it was Beatrice—even after she’d scored another winning goal, this time against the Sens—who still had to figure that out.
Chapter 18
By late afternoon, the largest of the four rinks in the Hopedale Sportsplex was packed with fans, most of them coming from Riverton and High Falls—the two towns to make this semifinal.
Lucas, Jared, and Edge were all in their places off the ice when the High Falls Hornets skated out to loud cheers from the crowd. Next were the Riverton Ravens.
Swift was first on the ice, and Edge knew he had to make the most of it.
“AND HERE’S THE RAVENS’ TOP NET-O-NATOR, THEIR QUICK-GLOVED DETONATOR . . . NICA ‘SWIFT’ BERTRAND!”
“He’s really funny,” Jared said, laughing like he couldn’t help it.
“Yeah, well, he’s my best friend,” said Lucas with a shrug, but obviously feeling proud. He wondered if Jared might be feeling the same way about his sister. “Beatrice is killing it on the ice,” he offered, smiling.
“She is,” said Jared, grinning back. “I hope this helps my dad see that she’s the best player out there.”
“Even if he doesn’t know it,” said Lucas, watching the crowd, “everyone else does.”
The Ravens fans were on their feet, wildly cheering as the players got into their positions.
Swift skated fast to her net. She tapped both goalposts with her stick and went into a deep crouch, backing all the way into her net like an ocean crab burying itself in the sand. Then, with a simple push of her skates, she slid out past the crease and turned sharply to her left.
Before the puck drop, the Hornets all gathered around their goalie, went quiet, and then broke their huddle with everyone shouting “Win!” together.
The Ravens didn’t have a handshake or a call yet, so instead, Beatrice Blitz reached out and smacked her stick into Swift’s pads. The two girls looked at each other. It had only been a week since Beatrice had deliberately “run” Swift with the intention of injuring her. Now they were teammates. Now they were working together.
“KIIIIIIISSSSS,” Beatrice said with an awkward smile.
Swift, surprising herself, smiled back easily. “KIIIIIIISSSSS!”
* * *
By the end of the first period, the Hornets were ahead 2–1. Beatrice Blitz had scored the Ravens’ only goal, with an assist by a surprised Jessie Bonino. The High Falls Hornets were well coached. Swift could tell they were putting out their strongest skaters each time Beatrice stepped onto the ice—and there was nothing she could do about it.
She’d also noticed something else: her teammates were using the same breakout play every time—and the Hornets were blocking it. Bond, on defence, kept trying to stickhandle her way out to the blue line before passing, but the High Falls kids had been instructed to go hard on the forecheck, sending skaters in every time Bond had the puck behind her own net. That meant she had to fight her way through a jungle of stick checks and blocks before reaching the blue line, and it just wasn’t working.
The score remained the same all through the second period, with the Riverton team spending much of the time bottled up in their own end. Mayor Ward knew that the spectacular play of Swift and Beatrice was the only thing keeping the Ravens in the game.
After the horn blew to call an end to the period, the officials decided it was time for a scrape—one that would delay the game for a few minutes. The mayor, relieved and knowing she had to change their strategy, leaned forward over the Ravens’ bench.
Swift was there with her mask raised so that she could spray some water into her mouth. She was so wet from sweat that it looked like she was coming out of a pool, not off the ice.
“We can’t score,” Swift said, meeting her coach’s eye. She was exhausted. Disappointed.
“I think we can,” said Mayor Ward, glancing down at Swift’s purple-laced skates. “I’m not sure why, but I’m thinking about a move I saw years ago, during a game I played in Calgary. I think it could work.”
Swift looked up at her, puzzled.
“You girls are getting forechecked to death,” said Mayor Ward. “Bond can’t skate through the whole team to get the puck out of your end. You’ve got to try this trick.” She lowered her voice to explain the play—it was Blitz’s move from 1988, but with a slight change.
“Huh?” Swift asked, her eyes blinking in confusion once the mayor was done. Of course she knew this shot, but . . .
“Bond will hoist the puck high over everyone’s heads. Beatrice will be expecting it
. And then we’ll send it to Jessie for the shot—and your sister Blades for the distraction. It will look like an easy play at first, but at the very last second, we’ll fake out their goalie.”
“But that’s not keeping it simple,” said Swift. She’d seen the move—Blitz’s move—work. But adding in nervous Jessie? Could the house league player handle it? Could her sister?
“We’re taking a simple move and making it better,” said the mayor, with almost a mischievous grin. “You guys have been playing simple so far, which is what they’ll expect. It’s time to buck the system a little.”
Swift nodded. She shot some water full into her face, shook off some of the drops, and then pulled down her mask sharply.
The scrape was over and the referee was blowing his whistle for the start of the third period.
They were going back on the ice.
* * *
Before they formed up for the faceoff, Swift quickly called Bond and Beatrice over to her crease. Lucas could see that the Ravens’ goalie was very animated. She had her mask down so it was impossible to read her lips, but he could tell what she was saying from her body language: pretending to lift a puck backhanded, using her glove hand to demonstrate a high arc in the air. At the end, she tapped Beatrice’s jersey to let her know the next step was up to her, and leaned in to whisper something.
Just before the faceoff, Beatrice nodded back toward Jessie. Mayor Ward was talking to Blades at the boards.
The Ravens won the faceoff but soon lost the puck to the Hornets, who seemed by far the stronger and more confident team. The Hornets regrouped in their own end and began a rush.
They came across the Ravens’ blue line on a three-on-two with only Bond and Shayna between them and Swift. The Hornets’ forwards formed a triangle so the puck could be dropped back and the final forward could get a good shot away—perhaps even one that Swift wouldn’t see coming.
That forward took her shot, but Swift tracked it all the way, holding up her blocker to send the puck flying harmlessly into the corner. Blades picked it up and moved along the side before rimming it back along the boards to Bond, who had moved behind Swift’s net.
The Hornets sent in two forecheckers, anticipating that Bond would once again try to lug the puck out to the blue line.
But the Ravens had another idea. As the two forward checkers came in, Bond went to her backhand and sent the puck as high over their heads as possible.
Beatrice was waiting for exactly that moment. The puck slapped down on the ice near centre, and she was away on a clear breakaway.
Beatrice came in hard on their opponents’ goaltender. She faked once, twice, then stretched the goalie out as the Hornet tried to cut off the short side.
But Beatrice didn’t shoot. Instead, she held the puck and swept fast around the Hornets’ net, coming out the other side with the goalie trapped against the far post.
Jessie was coming in fast as Beatrice shot the puck over to her, invisible-style. Meanwhile, Blades, the distraction, suddenly skated across the blue line in a full figure-skating arabesque, her arms and legs stretched out behind her!
Jessie Bonino, her nervousness gone, was able to quickly and quietly tap the puck in, without a single sound.
The crowd stood, in shock. Did that really happen? Could this brand-new team really pull off such an awesome, bizarre move?
The fans didn’t know what to say, but Edge did.
Even before the buzzer had sounded, the words were already out of his mouth.
“BONINO! BONINO! BONINO! BO-NIIIII-NOOOOO!”
Chapter 19
“My wrist is killing me,” Swift told Lucas as she skated up to the bench and slowly removed her glove. The score was 2–2 and the referee had just called for sudden-death overtime. Players on both teams could feel the tension, and each one of them knew she’d have to step up her game.
“You’re playing differently,” said Lucas, leaning over the boards toward his friend. “Your wrist must be throwing you off.”
“There’s not much more to go,” Blades said from the bench, giving her sister a quick pat on the shoulder.
“This will be tough,” said Swift, rubbing her hand around that wrist, trying to loosen it up by adding some heat. “But I can do this.”
Beatrice skated up, trying not to look over at her father. “Ugh, we’re never going to make the final!” she said, seeming stressed. “If we don’t win this, we’re done. That’s it!”
“We’re not done yet,” said Swift, carefully replacing her glove as the referee’s whistle blew again.
Beatrice was looking down at the ice as she skated back into position.
“That was a good move,” Henry Blitz called over in his daughter’s direction, while she was still close enough to hear it. He hadn’t moved from where he was standing. He’d taken Mayor Ward’s advice and was trying to give the girls some room—especially now that he’d seen what they could do. The “rafter puck” was a move he’d used before, but never, ever so brilliantly.
“Thanks for that,” said Beatrice, surprised. Really? No advice? No telling me to be more like Jared?
“You’re doing amazing out there,” said Henry Blitz, banging on the boards. He was no longer looking at her like she was just his daughter—but like she was also a real hockey player. The fact that she was a girl didn’t seem to matter anymore. “The Ravens are great, Bea—no matter what happens from here on in.”
Back on the ice, Swift thought the Hornets seemed more focused than the Ravens, but she wondered if the pain in her wrist was just confusing her.
Beatrice had her game face on, but the Hornets won the faceoff easily. Almost immediately, Swift was blocking their shots again—but just barely.
“You’re favouring your sore wrist,” said Bond, as she sent the puck out from behind their net. She wasn’t the only Raven who’d noticed that Swift’s game had changed—and the Hornets had seen it, too.
“I think I’m scared to hurt it more,” said Swift. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Even from the other side of the rink, Beatrice could tell what Swift was saying. And this time, she was the one with the idea. She was too far away to tell her new teammate, but she was close enough to Edge at his “media” table to have him pass on her message.
It took only a second for Edge to get it. And then, as the Hornets snagged the puck again and their forwards moved into formation, the Ravens’ play-by-play guy pulled the microphone closer to his mouth.
“This is a tense moment. Nothing’s decided yet,” he said more quietly than usual. “If this were an outdoor game, both of these teams might be WISHING ON THE STARS!”
Swift looked across the ice at Edge, then at Beatrice, who was nodding.
The Ravens’ goalie understood immediately. She was heading for a slump, just like Edge’s. She was thinking too hard, watching the puck too closely. And her hurt wrist was making her lose her instincts.
Am I really going to do this? she wondered.
Slowly, Swift closed her eyes.
She stopped thinking and started feeling.
Soon, she could hear the puck being scraped up off the ice; she could even hear it moving through the air.
And somehow, as if by magic, Swift now knew where that puck was headed, each and every shot.
Chapter 20
It was dark on the country highway, with black-looking pines lining the road like the border of some dark enchanted forest. The only lights were from the few cars that passed the Ravens’ bus and then disappeared into the night. A light snow had also started. The mayor’s husband, a tall, friendly guy with a mass of curly dark hair and a plaid shirt hung over the back of his seat, kept having to turn the windshield wipers on. They were now causing a dull scraping sound as they cleared the wet snow that had stuck or melted onto the windshield—a sound that was making Swift feel sleepy. Of course, that made sense. This entire day had already felt like a dream.
The Ravens’ goalie could barely believe that sh
e’d kept her eyes closed through their sudden-death overtime against the Hornets, but she had. She’d acted as though she had a blindfold on. It was almost as if Chicken were there, instructing her under the stars.
This was Beatrice’s idea—and the hint that Edge had given her over the loudspeaker.
Without her sight, Swift seemed to have felt the puck with some other part of her brain. She’d sensed it. And then she’d blocked that puck—over and over again!
At least, she’d blocked it until the Hornets had got a penalty and Henry Blitz had convinced the mayor to pull the Ravens’ goalie to give their team a two-man advantage.
That’s when the Hornets had scored. And that’s when the Ravens had lost both their semifinal and the tournament.
In the end, the score was Hornets 3, Ravens 2—but the players from Riverton had definitely made an impression. They were a real team, with real skills and a goalie who could stop a puck just by listening for it. With the help of Beatrice Blitz, Swift had taken Chicken’s puck trick and made it her own. Goalie magic.
Sleepily, Swift looked up at the television mounted at the front of the bus—the show on was about past Winter Olympics. In a flash, there was Eddie the Eagle, flying through the air, then a men’s speed-skating final, and then Canada’s Olympic women’s hockey team, winning gold for the very first time. The players were jumping on each other and cheering. They had the biggest smiles Swift had ever seen. Riverton’s only female goalie’s heart always fluttered whenever she saw one of these inspiring stories. She loved watching athletes’ dreams come true—sometimes in a single moment or a single game.
Did we really see an Olympics in Calgary? Swift wondered as the bus continued along the road home.
Up on the television, the Olympic rings faded away to show the hosts of the show around a table.
“How did you feel at that moment—the winning moment? What did that mean to you? And to the women on Team Canada?” one of the hosts asked their special guest. The camera turned to that guest—a blonde female hockey player with bright eyes and a friendly smile.
The Ice Chips and the Invisible Puck Page 8