Wingman On Ice

by Matt Christopher

  “Mom!” a voice shouted. “Mom! Tod!”

  They turned. There was Jane, almost lost among the grown-ups who were trying to cross the ice. She skated toward them and swung her arms around Mom, almost knocking Mom down. She looked up. Tears filled her eyes.

  “Marylou’s back there!” cried Jane. “She fell on the ice! I think she’s sprained her ankle!”

  Mom’s face turned white.

  “Let’s go after her,” she said.

  “Tod! Mrs. Baker!”

  They looked around and saw Ms. Hudson skating toward them. Together they went after Marylou. They found her about ten feet away. She was on her feet, but unable to skate. She was crying.

  “I can’t move!” she sobbed. “I can’t move!”

  Tod’s heart pounded. Marylou wasn’t very big, but still she would be almost too heavy for him to carry. Then he thought of a way.

  He got in front of her, turned around, and crouched on his haunches.

  “Climb on my back,” he said. “I’ll carry you piggyback.”

  She got on his back, and he started to carry her off the ice. This way she hardly felt heavy at all.

  They reached the gate. Smoke poured thicker now from the end of the building. Flames were eating through the wood partition. It wouldn’t be long before the fire reached the roof.

  Tod choked back tears. He was thinking, What if this beautiful building burned down? There would be no more skating. No more hockey.

  Where were those fire engines? Had Dad called them yet? What was delaying them?

  Tod, Mom, the girls, and Ms. Hudson just reached the exit when men in yellow slickers came rushing in, carrying water hoses. They were here!

  Outside, a fireman wearing a Fire Chief’s helmet stopped shouting orders as he saw Tod staggering out of the building with Marylou on his back.

  “Is she hurt?” he asked.

  “Her ankle is sprained,” said Mom.

  “Let me take her,” said the Fire Chief. “I’ll have one of the men put her in the ambulance and take a look at her ankle. Don’t worry. She’ll be all right.”

  He took Marylou off Tod’s back and started toward the white ambulance that was parked nearby. All at once a man and a boy came running forward.

  “Chief!” the man shouted. “Chief Brown! Just a minute!”

  Tod stared. It was Mr. Farmer and Joe. They ran up to the Fire Chief and Mr. Farmer took Marylou into his arms. They stood talking with Chief Brown for a moment, then the chief led them to the ambulance.

  “Let’s go to our car, Mother!” cried Jane. “I’m freezing!”

  “Dear me!” Mom said. “I’d practically forgotten you have so little on! Do you want to come with us, Ms. Hudson?”

  “No. I have my own car. Brrr! I’m freezing, too! Good night! I’ll see you tomorrow, Tod!”

  They walked hurriedly to their cars. Jane did the best she could with her skates on. Mom took a set of keys out of her purse and got in behind the wheel. Dad, she said, would come home with the fire truck. That might be in the wee hours of the morning.

  As she drove out of the parking lot, Tod looked back at Manna Rink. Huge searchlights shone on the building. Smoke poured through the windows where the fire had started. Flames licked through the outside wall.

  Tod turned away. He didn’t want to look anymore. He closed his eyes and prayed that Manna Rink would still be there in the morning.

  12

  They didn’t go to bed. Mom said she would stay up and read until Dad came home. She wouldn’t be able to sleep, anyway.

  Tod and Jane persuaded her to let them stay up, too. They changed into their pajamas and sat on the sofa together. They read books. Every once in a while Tod glanced at the clock on the television set.

  They sat there almost an hour. Then Jane began to yawn. She yawned several times. Finally, she said that she was going to bed. Mom took her.

  “Good night, Tod,” said Jane, yawning again.

  “Good night, Jane,” Tod said, and had to yawn, too.

  Half an hour passed. It was eleven o’clock, and Dad wasn’t home yet.

  Tod reached the bottom of the page and realized he didn’t remember a thing he had read. His mind was on Manna Rink. He was thinking of those frightened, screaming people. He was thinking of his dad. He was thinking of the flames licking at the walls like the hungry tongues of a thousand dragons.

  Manna Rink is gone. It’ll burn to the ground. There will be no more hockey games for us this year.

  And what of my brand-new hockey stick? Oh, why did I make such a stupid promise? Why?

  Twenty-five minutes after eleven. There was the sound of a motor outside. And voices.

  “Dad’s home!” cried Tod.

  He dropped his book and rushed to the window. Mom went with him. They pushed the draperies aside and looked out. They saw the fire truck, its big headlights shooting huge beams through the darkness.

  A moment later the truck drove off, and Tod saw Dad coming up the walk. Mom opened the front door for him. Her face was filled with anxiety, just as Tod’s was.

  Dad came in. He looked tired. He was still wearing a yellow slicker and a fire-man’s helmet. Mom closed the door and Dad stood in front of it. He looked from Mom to Tod. His face was as sober as could be.

  “Why aren’t you in bed?” he asked seriously.

  “Dad!” Tod almost shouted. “How about Manna Rink?”

  A smile flashed across Dad’s tired face. “Oh, one end got scorched. A partition was pretty badly destroyed. But that’s all.”

  Tod’s eyes widened. “You mean the roof didn’t burn? You mean Manna Rink is still there?”

  Dad put his arm around Tod’s shoulder and gave him a firm hug. “Of course, it’s still there. Matter of fact, I’m sure that hockey will keep going on as scheduled.”

  “Whoop-e-e-e-e-e!” shouted Tod.

  “Sh!” Mom said. “You’ll wake up Jane. Oh, I’m so glad that the fire didn’t get any worse. What a shame that it happened tonight.”

  The ache in Tod’s heart melted away. He felt so happy he wanted to wake up Jane anyway and tell her the good news. But Mom wouldn’t let him. He could tell her in the morning, she said.

  He went to bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

  He talked with Ms. Hudson the next day.

  She already had heard the good news about the rink. She said that she felt sure there would be no more Ice Show this season but hoped that there would be one next year.

  “I called up Mrs. Farmer this morning,” said Ms. Hudson. “Marylou’s ankle is a little better.”

  That evening, after supper, someone knocked on the door. Mom answered it. It was Mr. and Mrs. Farmer.

  “Please come in!” she said.

  Marylou was with them. She limped when she walked, but on her face was a bright, happy smile.

  “Just wanted to tell your son how thankful we are about the way he took care of Marylou,” said Mr. Farmer. “Guess I was so scared something real bad had happened to her last night that I didn’t even think about asking who had brought her out of the building. Later on it was Marylou, herself, who told me.”

  “We thought that was pretty quick thinking, Tod,” said Mrs. Farmer happily. “And it took a lot of spunk, too. We are all very grateful to you.”

  Tod blushed. “Lucky she wasn’t very heavy,” he said.

  They stayed a while longer and talked with Mom and Dad. Then they left.

  About seven-thirty the phone rang. Tod didn’t think it was for him, but he answered it anyway.

  “Tod?” a voice said.

  “Yes, this is Tod.”

  “This is Mr. Haddock, Skip’s father,” said the voice. “I’m on the Father and Son Banquet Committee, Tod. The banquet will be held in honor of the boys who are playing hockey. The date is February twenty-eighth. The place, Packer Hotel. The time, seven o’clock. Got all that?”

  Tod swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

  “Fine. Don’t forget. Tell your dad abou
t it, and make sure you both come. You can pick up your tickets Saturday at the rink. It’s reasonable—ten dollars will cover both of you. Good night, Tod.”

  “Good night,” said Tod.

  He hung up. His neck was red as he rose and went into the kitchen.

  “Who was that?” Mom asked.

  Tod shrugged. “It wasn’t anything important,” he said.

  13

  Tod took a drink of water, then went to his bedroom. From the top shelf of the clothes closet, he lifted off his large drawing tablet and carried it into the dining room. He got a pencil and tried to think of what to draw.

  Everyone else was in the living room. Dad had his shoes off and was reading the newspaper. Mom was reading a women’s magazine. Jane was in her little rocking chair “feeding” her doll from a bottle.

  For a while Tod sat there with the blank paper in front of him. He couldn’t think of what to draw because he was thinking of that telephone call from Mr. Haddock.

  He didn’t want to tell Dad about the Father and Son Banquet. Of course, Dad might consent to go. He might not want to hurt Tod’s feelings.

  But Dad didn’t care for sports anymore. Not since he had injured his knee while skiing. And what did he know about hockey? Nothing.

  A lot of those other fathers had played hockey. Most of them could skate. Some of them were coaches of the teams in the young boys’ league. What would they think of Dad, who hadn’t seen a hockey game yet this year?

  Of course, Dad worked Saturday mornings. But there had been practices at Manna Rink three nights a week just before the league games had started. He would have attended one or two of them, at least, if he had felt any interest, wouldn’t he?

  Tod felt sweat on his palms and rubbed it off on his pants. Thinking about Dad and the Father and Son Banquet kept his mind from thinking about what to draw.

  He went to the bookshelf in the living room and picked out a volume of the encyclopedia. Probably that would give him an idea.

  He turned the pages and came to pictures of sailing ships. That’s what he would draw. A ship sailing on the high seas. He started to copy it from the book.

  After a while he forgot about the Father and Son Banquet.

  That Saturday morning he walked into the dining room and stopped in his tracks. Someone was sitting there at the table he did not expect to see.

  “Dad!” cried Tod. “You’re not working this morning! Are you sick?”

  “I’m perfectly fine.” Dad smiled. “I told you I’d take off one of these Saturdays, didn’t I?”

  “Yes!” Tod was so thrilled he went over and gave Dad a hug.

  He hadn’t said anything to Dad about the hockey game. But that was why Dad was home today. He had switched with another fireman just to attend the hockey game this morning.

  Tod called Biff, and Biff said he and his mother would go with his, Biff’s, father.

  Dad drove. Jane and Mom went along, too. Tod was sick when he saw one end of Manna Rink so badly burned. But men had already begun repair work on it.

  The game was with the Vikings. From the moment of the first face-off, the White Knights had possession of the puck most of the time. Joe Farmer tried twice to drive in the puck, but both times the Vikings’ goalie made a save.

  Tod sat nervously waiting for Line 2’s turn on the ice. He was thinking of Dad. How would he play today with Dad watching?

  After he was on the ice for a few seconds, he felt better. He intercepted the puck on a pass from a Vikings player and passed it to Biff. The pass was good, and Biff dribbled it across the Vikings’ blue line.

  A little while later Skip had the puck. He dribbled it down to the corner, came around behind the net, and passed it to Snowball.

  Two Vikings players charged in. Snowball passed the puck to Tod, who was in the right-hand circle in front of the cage. Tod picked up the pass. He dribbled a short way and then quickly snapped the puck to Skip, who was skating toward him from the other side.

  Skip took the pass and slammed the puck into the net.

  “Nice shot, Skip!” yelled Coach Fillis from the sideline. “Nice pass, Tod!”

  White Knights hockey sticks thundered against the boards.

  Later, the Vikings showed that they weren’t there just for the exercise. They moved ahead of the White Knights. In the second period Tod made another assist as he passed to Jim Wright and Jim scored their goal. But as the game progressed, the White Knights proved to be no match for the Vikings today. They lost the game 4 to 2.

  It wasn’t until they were in the locker room and began talking about next week’s game that Tod realized there was only one game left to be played. One game left! And he had yet to play with his new hockey stick!

  “Played a nice game, Tod,” said Coach Fillis. “You got two points today. Assists count too, you know.”

  Tod smiled. “Yes, I know.”

  He had done well. He was improving. But somehow, he felt he wasn’t doing well enough to deserve that hockey stick in the closet.

  Perhaps it would remain there until next year.

  “Did you get your tickets to the Father and Son Banquet?” asked Biff. “I got mine.”

  Tod’s face reddened. “Not yet,” he said.

  From that second on the Father and Son Banquet lingered on his mind. He kept thinking about it in the car.

  I don’t want to ask Dad because I’m ashamed, he thought. I’m ashamed that he doesn’t like sports as the other fathers do.

  But it wasn’t right not to ask Dad. Tod knew that. He thought and thought about it. And it was just before they reached home that Tod made up his mind.

  “Dad,” he said, his heart pounding, “there’s going to be a Father and Son Banquet in honor of the hockey players. It’ll cost ten dollars. Would you like to go? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

  Dad looked at him. He hesitated, as if he were trying to decide.

  He won’t want to go, Tod thought. Just watch. He won’t want to go.

  Then Dad said, “I think I’d like it very much, son. I’ll be glad to go.”

  14

  Hi, Tod! Hi, Joe!”

  “Hi, Ted!”

  Tod stared up at his father, and then at Mr. Haddock, Skip’s father.

  “Do you know him, Dad?” Tod asked surprisedly.

  “Of course. He and a lot of these fathers belong to the same club that I do.”

  Tod’s jaw sagged. And he had thought all the time that his father was a stranger to these men!

  Dad greeted other fathers, too. And they greeted him, shaking his hand as if they were really pleased to see him.

  Boy! thought Tod. And I almost made the mistake of not asking Dad to come!

  They found seats beside Mr. Farmer and Joe. Waiters and waitresses brought in the dinners, and everyone began to eat. There were ham and potatoes, all kinds of vegetables, and pie a la mode for dessert. Tod ate till he was stuffed.

  Afterward there were speeches, including one by the coach of the university’s hockey team.

  It was a night Tod would long remember. He was really glad he had asked Dad to go. Both he and his dad had had a great time.

  The last game was on March 2 at eleven o’clock. The White Knights tangled with the Spartans. Dad worked until ten-thirty, then drove to the game with Mom and Jane. Tod went with Biff and Biff’s father.

  The Spartans had won only two games during the season, but they started playing as if they were champions. Center Cliff Towne socked in the first goal, then a Line 3 player for the Spartans smacked in the second.

  Joe Farmer scored first for the White Knights, making the score 2-1. Then Line 2 came on the ice.

  For a minute and a half the two lines played hard without either gaining any advantage over the other. Then Skip board-checked a Spartan player and was sent to the penalty box for one minute.

  During that minute the Spartans tried desperately to raise their score. Three times Tim Collins made saves that drew loud applause from the White
Knights’ fans. And twice a White Knight wingman cut in, racing in front of his own goal crease, to knock aside the puck that might have gone in for a score. That wingman was Tod Baker.

  Tod didn’t dribble the puck. He knew he had improved a lot at dribbling, but there were times when he would still hit the puck too hard. He didn’t want to take those chances in this final game of the season.

  So every time Tod got the puck he passed it to one of his teammates who was in the clear. And his passes were almost always perfect. The puck would glide across the ice just far enough in front of the receiver so that he would not have to slow down to pick it up on his stick.

  Do I deserve my new hockey stick now? thought Tod. I think I’ve improved a lot. Butthis is the last game. And the hockey stick is at home.

  With fifteen seconds to go before Skip’s penalty time was up, Tod, Biff, and Jim passed the puck among themselves down the ice deep into Spartan territory. The Spartans’ defensemen charged in, tried to block the players and to steal the puck. The puck skittered up the ice. Tod spun around and raced after it. Just before it touched the blue line, he hooked it with his stick, taking it away from a Spartan player.

  Tod pulled the puck in front of him and then passed it to Biff, who was over near the boards. Biff caught it and passed it back to Tod as Tod raced for the net. Tod saw Jim skating up from his right side and passed the puck to him. Jim took it, dribbled it in front of the Spartans’ net, and snapped it.

  Goal! And made while one of their own men was off the ice!

  Then Skip came in. The White Knights were playing with their full force again.

  Tod puffed as the buzzer sounded, and Line 2 got off the ice. He was tired, but he felt good. His passes were working smoothly. And he had scored a point by getting that assist. What a tough minute that was while Skip was resting in that penalty box!

  Line 3 of each team scored a goal and the first period ended with the score tied, 3-all.

  The locker room was noisy with talk as the boys filed in to rest. Most of them bought soft drinks to quench their thirst. They were happy, excited. The score was tied, but each team felt that theirs would be the winner.