by David Skuy
“Get ready for more pain,” he said under his breath.
He ducked over to Rainer. “Set up more in the corner. I’m going to pull the draw to you. Look for me on Glassy’s glove side. We’re running The Breakaway.”
Rainer raised an eyebrow, then nodded.
The referee blew the whistle.
Bossy shoved the Knights’ right winger. He shoved back. Was Bossy going to do the play — or he was setting up a fight? Rocket glided to the circle and put his blade down. The referee held the puck out. Bossy and the winger crossed sticks and pushed against each other. The Knights’ centre moved his stick. The referee stood up and pointed out of the circle.
“I barely flinched,” the centre said.
“Move it,” the referee said.
The left winger took his spot.
This was perfect. Rocket forced himself to relax, so he wouldn’t give the play away. He had a way better chance of winning the draw against a winger. The referee held the puck out. Rocket’s eyes remained fixed on the ref’s hand. The next instant, the puck dropped. Rocket drove his right hand forward and his left hand back and, using his momentum, spun toward the net.
Step one: win the draw. Check.
Rainer had the puck. The Knights’ centre extended his stick toward it. Rainer held onto it and then slipped it deftly to Rocket by the post.
Step two: get puck back from defenceman. Check.
Bossy broke off in between the Knights’ defence. Rocket fired the puck up.
Step three: pass for the breakaway. Check.
Bossy took the puck in full stride and powered down the ice. The defence had been caught flat-footed and they were five metres behind. Bossy crossed the blue line, the crowd roaring and begging their goalie to stop it. Bossy faked a shot at the hash marks, took two more strides, faked a forehand, brought it over to his backhand and then slipped the puck between the goalie’s pads, five-hole.
Step four: score. Check!
The crowd groaned. A few Axmen supporters jumped to their feet to celebrate.
On their bench, the Axmen banged the boards with their sticks and high-fived each other. Rocket’s linemates headed over to slap gloves. Rocket followed self-consciously, head down. He slapped everyone’s gloves and went to centre for the draw.
The linesman gave the referee the puck. The Knights’ centre set up. Rocket got himself ready. The puck fell and their sticks clashed — and again Rocket won the draw. Unfortunately, the puck went between the defence and into the Axmen’s zone. Rainer swung wide with the puck, skating backward, and then drilled it cross ice to Big Z. Rocket curled in the neutral zone and accepted the outlet pass. The Knights’ left winger lunged at him. Rocket had too much speed, and he easily avoided the winger’s stick.
Rocket crossed the red line and lofted the puck toward Bossy in the corner, figuring the defenceman wouldn’t want to take a hit from Bossy. Rocket was right. The defenceman tried to drag the puck with the tip of his stick. Bossy banged him off it.
Fryer flew in from the right side. Bossy continued up the wall to the hash marks. On a hunch, Rocket went to the opposite corner. Bossy rang it around. Rocket couldn’t resist a smile as he gathered the puck in. That Bossy could play. The Knights’ centre and left winger pressed down. Rocket banked the puck off the wall to Big Z at the point. Both Knights turned to charge Big Z, who sent it right back to Rocket in the corner.
Rocket exploded toward the front of the net, hoping to catch the Knights by surprise. The goalie reacted by dropping into his butterfly and pressing his body against the post. Fryer battled for position in the high slot with the right winger. The right defenceman had Bossy by the far post. The left defenceman lowered his hands and laid his stick across the ice to block any pass. Rocket considered cutting back behind the net and setting up the cycle with Bossy. Then Bossy backed away from the post, and the right defenceman, thinking Rocket had no play in front, drifted closer to the middle of the net.
Rocket lowered his right hand and tipped the puck on his blade. It was a crazy idea, but he did it almost instinctively. He hopped over the left defenceman’s stick with the puck balanced on his blade — and the crowd went insane. The goalie pushed off the post and extended his legs to cover the bottom of the net. The right defenceman took a step forward and lowered his shoulder. He ploughed into Rocket’s chest. Rocket’s knees buckled and he fell, but not before he’d flicked the puck over to Bossy. Rocket hit the ice and rolled. The groan of the crowd took the hurt away. Bossy had put the puck in the net.
He felt a hand under his arm pulling him to his feet.
“Two goals in one shift,” Fryer said to him. “Maybe Alvo will put us on the ice once in a while.”
Bossy gave them both a big bear hug. “Awesome forecheck, boys,” he said.
Rainer and Big Z joined in. Rocket felt ridiculous trapped in the middle of this group hug, but there was no escape.
“Good puck movement,” Rainer said.
“Net presence, boys. Net presence,” Fryer said.
Finally, the guys peeled off. Cash’s line was already at centre. Rocket went to the bench.
Bossy got a hero’s welcome, the guys pounding him on the back and helmet.
“Mr. Superstar.”
“The beard is working its magic.”
“Way to snipe a pair, bro.”
Rocket took his place quietly. Two goals took the sting out of his throbbing hand.
Bossy sat down with a loud sigh. “I haven’t had two goals in one shift since …” He paused and then laughed, “since never.” He punched Rocket’s knee. “Good passes,” he said.
Washington crouched behind him. “Well done, Bossy. We hoped this would continue after camp. Great finishing — and great passing, Rocket.”
Rocket reached for some water. Nice for the coach to say that — and for the other boys to hear. Hopefully Fryer was right and Alvo would let them back on the ice sooner than later.
The play went end-to-end for the next minute, the two teams trading scoring chances. Ty had the puck in the Axmen’s end. Cash extended his stick at the puck. Ty slipped it between Cash’s stick and feet and then danced sideways and went by him. The left defenceman dropped to his knees to block the shot. Ty dragged the puck with his forehand to bring the puck to the outside of the defenceman’s left shoulder and fired a wicked snapper over Glassy’s glove hand.
Just like that, they were tied again.
“Change ’em,” Washington said.
“That was garbage,” Alvo said. “Can’t let a guy walk out in front like that without putting a body on him.”
“What’s with the short shift?” a woman called from the stands.
“Keep your goal scorers on the ice,” a man said.
The voices sounded familiar. Rocket turned to look — Cash’s parents were on their feet yelling at Alvo. They both wore Axmen sweaters.
Cash looked very unhappy as he came off. He gave Gold a pained look.
“Move over,” he said to Rocket.
“We’re before you,” Bossy said.
“Hey, Jamie,” Cash said to Gold. “Can we get back out there? I’ll get it back.”
Alvo leaned toward Washington’s ear and spoke.
“Rockwood’s line is next,” Washington barked.
Gold went over and said something to Washington, who spoke to Alvo. Then Alvo shook his head and said something back.
“Rockwood’s line is next,” Washington said simply.
Gold’s eyes narrowed and he stomped over to the far end of the bench, arms crossed.
The Breakaway had worked to perfection. Rocket figured another play was in order.
“As soon as we get a faceoff in their end, I’m going to knock the puck into the corner,” he said to Bossy and Fryer. “The closest winger fires it behind the net to the opposite winger, and then we set up the cycle. Don’t forget to look for the point shot.”
This time he got a warmer reception.
“Makes sense to me,” Bossy sa
id.
“You got it,” Fryer said.
Rocket felt like he could skate through a brick wall or jump over a building. One shift at a time, one goal at a time, and he would be a centre for the Axton Axmen. He could feel it.
CHAPTER 19
The speakers crackled, and then the song came back in clearly. Rocket licked his lips and sat up. The air in the bus was dry and he was dying for a drink, but the boys in the back had taken all the water bottles. There was no way he was going to ask for one.
He could never sleep on buses or trains, unlike Kyle, who’d conked out hours ago. He’d just leaned his head against the window and was gone. Most of the guys up front were sleeping. Even the guys in the back were fairly quiet now.
After the long trip there and back, the seats felt like concrete blocks. Of course, Rocket would travel another thousand kilometres to play a game like that again. He’d connected on a close in, one-timer feed from Fryer in the second for a goal. Then Fryer had put the game away with an empty-netter with a minute to go. They’d won 6–3, and his line had gotten four of the goals.
His hand hurt like crazy, though. He regretted not asking Chenny for some ice, but he still didn’t want Gold or Alvo to know. He’d fire the beanbag up when he got home. That thing was a lifesaver. He owed Devin big time.
Alvo had sounded almost happy after the game. “Rocky start. We have to fix that,” he’d said. “Second and third periods were okay — and I like how we buried our chances.” That was it for the positive feedback. At least under Alvo you didn’t have to worry about getting too full of yourself.
Rocket leaned his elbow on the armrest and put his chin in his hand. He smiled to himself, happy nobody had shaved his head. He’d been terrified when they got back on the bus, and he’d almost had a nervous breakdown when Kyle took a seat close to the middle. Rocket had wanted to sit with the coaches.
Nothing had happened. Cash, Hoffer and Gruny had been messing with him. All they did was chirp at guys and goof off, and now even that was done. Probably sleeping. Nothing like a hockey game and a fourteen-hour drive to calm guys down. Rocket pulled out his phone. Home in less than an hour. Megan and he had texted until she went to bed. Maddy had traded texts with him for a while, too. She was coming to Axton for tomorrow’s game against the Knights.
He was worried about Maddy, so it would be good to see her. Tonight she’d admitted that Connor and Raja had hassled her the day before. She’d been with André, so they’d backed off, but today she hadn’t gone out alone.
Rocket turned his phone off and stuffed it in his pocket. At least she’d have a chance to relax in Axton. Connor and Raja would likely lose interest if Rocket wasn’t around. Their problem seemed to be with him.
At least, he hoped so.
He figured he’d take Maddy to Jimmy’s, and they could hang with Kyle and Nathan.
Rocket looked out the window. The bus had just hit a construction zone and was crawling along. Maybe an hour was optimistic?
He closed his eyes. It felt good, even if he was still awake.
Suddenly, he was lifted out of his seat and pushed to the floor. He gasped for breath.
“Get the mouth,” a voice whispered.
Hoffer?
A piece of tape stifled his cry for help. He tried to pull it off, but someone had pinned his arms. They rolled him onto his stomach and taped his hands behind his back.
“Mmmmmmm!” Rocket screamed.
A second, larger piece of tape covered his mouth entirely. He fought a wave of panic. He couldn’t get enough air through his nose. They spun him to his back.
Akim looked down at Rocket from his seat, his eyes wide open.
“Transport the client to the hair salon.”
Two guys began to giggle.
“Shhhhh,” Hoffer hushed.
It was happening. They’d waited until everyone was asleep. Two hands hooked him under the armpits, and he was dragged to the back and tossed onto the seats in the last row.
No one could see him. He was done for.
Hoffer leaned forward on one knee, an evil grin on his face.
Rocket bent his own knee and kicked Hoffer in the chest. Hoffer flew back, and Rocket sat up. He needed to get back to the front so the coaches could see him.
“Not smart, Little Guy,” Hoffer growled.
He pushed Rocket, slamming him into the window. Rocket lost his balance and slid into the space in front of the seat. For a crazy moment, he thought of trying to crawl under the seats. A hand grabbed his right ankle to end that notion, and another held his left. He heard the sound of duct tape ripping, and soon his ankles were taped together, too.
“You need to calm down,” Hoffer said. He pulled Rocket back up and pushed him firmly onto the seat, flipping his legs up, too. Hoffer then sat on his legs. He reached over and pinched Rocket’s nose. He couldn’t breathe!
Rocket kept perfectly still and tried not to panic. He was helpless.
Hoffer let go. “Are you going to be trouble?” he asked.
Rocket shook his head. Not being able to breath had scared him. It felt like more was at stake here than his hair.
“Behave, Little Guy,” Gruny said over Hoffer’s shoulder. He snapped a pair of scissors open and shut a few times. “Be nice and we might let you keep your eyebrows.”
“No chance. Eyebrows go,” Cash said.
“Obviously,” Gruny said. “I’m messing with him.”
“Mmmmmmm,” Rocket murmured. They were such jerks. He’d look like a total freak.
“Who wants the first snip?” Gruny said.
“I’ll have a go.” Cash took the scissors. “Welcome to the Axmen’s Hair Salon. I’m the Cash-Man, and I’ll be your stylist today. Do you want a shampoo? No? Fine. I understand you want a complete shave. Is that correct? I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s begin, shall we?” He grabbed a piece of Rocket’s hair.
Gruny pulled a can of shaving cream and a razor out of his backpack.
“Okay, guys. Initiation is over.”
Bossy! He was in the seat beside them.
“Bro, we just got started,” Hoffer said.
“You got started plenty. That’s enough,” Bossy said.
“Go back to sleep,” Gruny said. “We’ll take care of this. He’s a rookie.”
“Do I have to get out of my seat?” Bossy said.
The three tormentors looked at each other.
Finally, Hoffer shrugged. “Way to kill it, Bossy. We’re not allowed to have fun this year?”
“Untie him,” Bossy said.
“You do it,” Hoffer snapped.
Hoffer took hold of Rocket’s shirt, pulled him to standing and then threw him onto Bossy’s lap. Rocket’s head banged into Fryer, who woke up with a start.
“What the …? What are you …” Fryer stopped himself. “What’s going on?” he said.
“Hoffer, Gruny and Cash were going to shave Little Guy,” Bossy said.
“Is that so?” Fryer said slowly
Bossy stood Rocket up in the aisle and then stood up himself.
“This is going to hurt,” Bossy said.
Rocket nodded. He didn’t care as long as he could breathe normally again. Bossy pulled the tape off his mouth. His cheeks and lips tingled painfully. He filled his lungs a few times. Air had never tasted so sweet.
“Turn around,” Bossy said.
He took the tape off Rocket’s wrists. It stung.
Rocket crouched down and began to untape his own ankles.
“Next person who messes with my centre, messes with me. Got it?” Bossy said.
“Next person who wakes me up will lose more than their hair. Got it?” Fryer added.
“Got it?” Bossy said again.
“Yeah. Whatever,” Cash said.
Bossy took a step toward him. “You think you’re serious stuff because you’re Gold’s pet? You’ve gotten a free pass till now, but you’re pushing it way too far. Do you understand me?”
“Just joking aroun
d a bit. Geez,” Cash said.
Bossy and Fryer turned back to Rocket.
“Thanks,” Rocket said. That sounded a bit lame considering what they’d done. “I guess my hair and my eyebrows thank you, too,” he added.
Bossy burst out laughing. “Like I said, no one messes with my centre.”
“Well … thanks. I owe you guys.”
“Just keep those sweet passes coming,” Bossy said.
“You got it,” Rocket said. “Um, so, I’ll see ya.”
He went back to his seat.
“You okay?” Akim said when he sat down.
“Yeah. No problem,” Rocket said.
Kyle was still sleeping. He could sleep through anything, it seemed.
Akim leaned across the aisle. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know what to do. I was going to tell the coaches, but … I’m sorry. I should’ve.”
Akim didn’t want to be a rat. Rocket got that.
“That would have just made it bad for you, too. Anyway, no big deal. They only wanted to scare me,” Rocket said.
“I was scared enough for the both of us.” Akim looked around and came over to Rocket’s seat. “I’m going home,” he said quietly. “They’re going to pick on me, I know it. I don’t have any friends and Glassy treats me like dirt. It’s only a matter of time. I mean, they’re picking on you, and you’re an awesome player. They haven’t done anything to me because they haven’t noticed me. I doubt I’ll even make the cut, anyway.” He gripped the armrest. “I’m going home.”
Kyle suddenly yawned and rubbed his eyes. “This drive is taking forever. You guys get any sleep?”
“I’ve been hanging with my bros at the back of the bus,” Rocket said.
Akim laughed.
Bossy and Fryer came up to join them. “Hey, Little … Bryan, you okay for real?”
Rocket rubbed his upper lip. “I think I lost a few layers of skin, but I’ll live.”
“Layers of what?” Kyle said.
“Kyle’s a heavy sleeper,” Rocket joked.
“Did I sleep through something again? Story of my life,” Kyle said.
“Hoffer, Gruny and Cash were being idiots, as usual,” Bossy said. “They wanted to shave … Do I have this right, you’re the Rocket?”