Last Shot

by David Skuy

  “My last name is Rockwood. Some guys call me that.”

  “Suits you. Anyway, they were going to shave Rocket,” Bossy said.

  “I owe you guys,” Rocket said again.

  Kyle cast an angry look toward the back of the bus. “Bro, I’m so sorry. I’m having a nap while you’re fighting for your life.”

  “The tape around my mouth made it hard to call for help,” Rocket said.

  “Jerks,” Kyle muttered.

  “I figured they were just going to scare you,” Bossy said. “We always do a little initiation to rookies, supposed to be fun. Maybe it isn’t. I should’ve stepped in earlier.”

  “I don’t get how Cash thinks he can pull this act off,” Fryer said. “He’s a rookie, too.”

  “Gold thinks he’s the next OHL superstar,” Bossy said.

  “He sucked today,” Fryer said. “Got schooled on that goal, the one Rocket’s buddy got. Rocket, you got a goal and three assists, and I think you won every faceoff. You should be on the first line.”

  “Along with you guys,” Rocket said, embarrassed by the attention.

  “I just hope Alvo keeps letting us play,” Bossy said.

  “He will, and we’ll do some real damage once we get used to playing with each other,” Rocket said.

  “I hope so. I’m done being the team goon,” Bossy said. “Three years — I’m sick of it. Gold tells me fighting is my ticket to the NHL. He treats me like an attack dog: Fight, Boss, fight. That’s a good boy.” He rubbed the knuckles on his right hand. “Kyle, is your buddy Nathan okay?”

  “He’s good,” Kyle said.

  “He stuck in there. Did well for himself,” Fryer said.

  “Gold told me to scrap because Nathan hit Cash. I shouldn’t have done it. He seemed like a good guy,” Bossy said.

  “I appreciate that,” Kyle said. “I’ll tell him. You guys should come to Jimmy’s sometime and hang with us.”

  “Definitely,” Bossy said.

  Fryer grinned and shadow-punched Bossy with a one-two combination. “So, when are you going to tell Gold and Alvo you’re quitting the fight game?”

  Bossy lowered his eyes. “Soon. Hockey has changed. Sure, you got to be tough, and sometimes you’re going to drop the gloves to stick up for yourself or your teammates. I’m up for that. But I’m not going to be the guy who skates out for two shifts a game and drops his gloves like a trained monkey.”

  “Not even if they pay you three million a year?” Fryer laughed.

  Bossy shook his head. “How many enforcers have to quit with concussions? How many guys get really sick from taking too many shots to the head? I don’t even know how many fights I’ve been in, and I’m just twenty. Anyway,” he went on. “I may not have skills like you, Rocket, but I’m big and I can play if they let me. I don’t want to quit hockey, but I’m finished being a fighter.”

  “We work hard and figure out more plays off the cycle, you’ll be in the NHL as a power forward. You both will,” Rocket said. He could come up with a half-dozen plays off the top of his head.

  “I like the sound of that. This season’s off to a great start. We’re scoring and getting ice time,” Bossy said.

  “I’m in,” Fryer said. “I can play with this guy any day.” He gave Rocket a punch in the arm.

  “Anyway, you boys can relax on the initiation front,” Bossy said. “That’s done — or they deal with us.”

  “Bourquey’s with us, too, I bet, and Rainer and Big Z,” Fryer said. “We were talking about it after the game. Cashman had better smarten up, or he’ll find himself without hair one day. I don’t care how much Gold loves him. It’s about respect for the game.”

  The boys all nodded. They joked around for another half hour. When the bus pulled into the parking lot of the Axton arena, Bossy and Fryer went back to their seats.

  “Okay, boys,” Gold called from the front. “Wake up. Collect your stuff. It’s late and your billets are waiting to take you home.” He clapped a few times. “We have a practice tomorrow at ten o’clock and don’t think you can sleepwalk your way through it. It’ll be full throttle. So everyone up and at ’em.”

  Akim looked at Rocket. “Maybe I will stay around a little longer and see if I make it.”

  He punched Kyle and Rocket’s fists and returned to his seat.

  “So they actually taped you up and were going to shave your head?” Kyle asked.

  “Let’s say I was getting worried about the eyebrows.”

  “The wacky life of an OHLer.” Kyle grinned.

  Rocket stuffed his sweatshirt into this backpack. He’d been in Axton for four days — it could have been four years. Wacky didn’t go far enough.

  CHAPTER 20

  The bus rolled into the arena parking lot in front of a surprisingly large group of people.

  “At the rink by nine-fifteen, and on the ice by ten,” Gold said. “And don’t forget your binders.”

  “What if we lost ours?” Cash called out.

  Rocket headed to the door. He wasn’t interested in Cash’s humour.

  As each boy stepped off the bus, the waiting crowd cheered and clapped.

  “Yeah, Axmen.”

  “Go Axton, go!”

  “Big win, boys. Big win.”

  Rocket laughed out loud. This was crazy, like they were in the NHL. It was after midnight, and there were at least fifty people to welcome them home. One guy caught his attention. He was dressed in black from head to toe — he even wore a black cowboy hat. He was talking to Cash’s parents and Strohler.

  Rocket pulled his hockey bag from under the bus.

  “You can leave that,” Chenny said. “I’ll put it in the dressing room for tomorrow’s practice.”

  “I can help,” Rocket said. He looked for his sticks.

  “It’s fine. It’s my job,” she said.

  “But …”

  “Seriously, I need to do it.” She shot a glance over Rocket’s shoulder at Gold, grabbed two bags and wheeled them into the arena.

  He felt bad about her having to do all the work. If the players helped, it would get done in five minutes. She sure seemed stressed. Maybe the pressure wasn’t only on the players.

  “Hi, Bryan,” Devin said. “Awesome game!”

  “How do you know already?”

  “We listened on the radio,” Devin said. “I kept the stats, as best I could — tough just listening. I had to guess a bit.”

  “Gotcha. Is your dad ready to go? I’m beat.”

  “I’d keep your distance,” Devin said. “There’s been a significant development in the Cash sweepstakes.”

  “What’s up?”

  Devin pointed at the guy with the cowboy hat. “Apparently, that’s Robert Bickles. He’s another agent. Dad’s feeling the heat.” Devin pressed his lips together. “Uh-oh, Dad-alert. Here he comes. Sorry,” he whispered.

  Strohler was storming toward them.

  “Let’s go,” Strohler said harshly. “Why didn’t you get him into the car, Devin? Can you do anything right? Apparently not. Ridiculous how late the bus is. I’ve got to work tomorrow.”

  “There was construction …”

  “C’mon.”

  Strohler got in the car and slammed the door. He drove away the second Rocket and Devin got in.

  “Can’t believe it. The garbage I put up with. It’ll stink for a hundred years.” Strohler was practically yelling. “Stupid liars, both of them. Such trash. Ungrateful pair of idiots. The hours I listened to their stupidity.”

  Devin pulled his headphones on. Rocket didn’t dare move a muscle. The wheels squealed as they turned the corner sharply and accelerated down the street.

  “What’s this about your sister?” Strohler barked at Rocket.

  “Yeah … my sister wants to see the home game tomorrow against the Knights, and …”

  “I’m not a hotel, you know,” Strohler said.

  “Sorry. I asked Kimberly and she said it was okay.”

  “It’s not okay,” S
trohler said.

  He barrelled through two stop signs and pulled into the driveway. He was out of his seat in an instant and ran into the house. Rocket and Devin slowly followed him in.

  “In front of my face! Right in front of me! Can you believe it?”

  Strohler was screaming.

  “Okay, Carl. Let’s get Devin and Bryan off to bed and we can discuss it,” Kimberly said. She smiled at them, but her face was flushed and she looked upset. “How was the game, Bryan?” she said.

  “It was great. We won 6–3.”

  “Big deal,” Strohler huffed. “They didn’t have four of their starters, and their number one goalie didn’t play. Knights will destroy you tomorrow.”

  “Okay, Carl,” Kimberly said.

  “Okay? Nothing is okay. I still can’t believe Bickles showed up at the arena, at twelve-thirty in the morning, just to rub my nose in it. He’s a snake, a snake in the grass. Acts like a huge big shot because he represents a few NHLers. I know a thing or two about him. He’s a joke with the other agents. A huge joke. ”

  “I’m going downstairs,” Devin said.

  “Good solution, Dev. Game your brains out.” Strohler glared at him.

  Devin left.

  “Carl, that’s enough,” Kimberly said.

  She turned to Rocket. “Good night, Bryan. You must be tired — so much travelling for one game. Anyway, I’m off to bed, too.”

  “Okay, good night.” Rocket turned and went downstairs. How awkward was that? If he made it, would he really be able to stand a year of Strohler?

  Strohler began to yell again, but Kimberly cut him off: “I am so sick and tired of your juvenile behaviour!”

  “Nice! I’m trying to deal with this Cash situation and here you are—”

  “I don’t care about Cash!” she said.

  Devin came out of the movie room. His face was pale, but his eyes were cold and hard. He put a finger to his lips.

  “Hold on, I just got a text,” Strohler said. “Yeah! Perfect! Cash is signing with Bickles. With a stupid old man. After all I’ve done for them, I get a text!” He started on another tirade.

  “Keep your voice down,” Kimberly hissed. “The boys will hear.”

  “So what? That Bryan is gone. I’ll see to that. Nice piece of work he did connecting me with Cash. Kid turned out to be useless.”

  “That’s enough. Bryan’s our guest and he’s a great kid.”

  “When did you become Miss Congeniality?”

  “This is done. I’m done!” Kimberly yelled.

  Rocket was startled. She sounded so angry. Devin froze.

  “You’ve been horrible ever since this hockey-agent obsession started. I’m not putting up with it any longer. You order Devin around and insult him and—”

  “Obsession?” Strohler interrupted. “I’m trying to make a living here. I can’t work for your oh-so wonderful father anymore. He operates the business like it’s the 1950s. Barely knows what a computer is. I’m going to do things my way, and I’m going to be the biggest agent in the biz. I don’t need Cashman. I have lots of other prospects, better ones — way better.”

  “Please just stop. You need to go,” Kimberly said.

  Rocket didn’t know what to do. He shouldn’t be listening to this, but he worried they’d hear him if he moved. Strohler would go crazy on him.

  “Go where?” Strohler snapped.

  “Away — a hotel.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I can’t be here with you any longer. Or I’ll go, with Devin and Bryan. Make a choice. I’m done. I’ve tried. I’ve tried for so long. But this obsession has turned you into something unbearable. Why is it so important to become an agent? What do you have to prove? You didn’t make the NHL. Let it go.”

  “I was cheated!” he screamed. “I should’ve been in the NHL. All those years I played, all those hours I practised. I played against guys who were half the player I was and they made it. I should have made my millions—”

  “Will you leave or should I get the boys and go?”

  They were silent for a good minute.

  “This is crazy. You’re not going anywhere, and neither am I,” Strohler said.

  “You don’t get to tell me what to do. That’s over. Make your decision,” Kimberly said.

  “This is my house, too,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Devin ran past Rocket and up the stairs.

  Rocket went to his bedroom, hoping he wouldn’t hear anymore. But then Devin began shouting, and Rocket heard every word.

  “Would you just get out of this house and leave us alone?” Devin yelled at his father.

  “Devin …” Strohler seemed to be struggling for words. “We’re a team. You and me. We … We’re …”

  “We aren’t anything,” Devin said. “All you do is tell me how useless I am. I may not be any good at hockey, but look what it’s done to you.”

  “Kim …” Strohler tried again.

  Again, they went silent.

  “Really?” Strohler said. “That’s what you both want? Okay, fine. Whatever. I’ll prove you wrong, too. I’ll prove everyone wrong. And don’t think you can come running back to me when I’m the number one agent in hockey. This is your last chance.”

  Kimberly quietly said something, but Rocket couldn’t make it out.

  What was going on? He couldn’t help himself. He opened the door a crack.

  He heard the front door open and then close with a slam.

  Rocket closed his own door and sat on his bed. Brutal for Kimberly and Devin. They were probably better off without Strohler, in his opinion, but still …

  Rocket had been much younger than Devin when his own parents broke up. He remembered vaguely that they used to fight a lot, but that was it. One night they’d sat him down at the kitchen table. They’d told him Daddy was going to stay in another place for a while, but that they both loved him very much.

  Rocket wasn’t sure his dad loved him much at all.

  A knock sounded at his door.

  “Come in.”

  Devin poked his head in. “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay. I guess your dad sort of thought he had Cash wrapped up,” Rocket said.

  He didn’t know what else to say.

  “My mom wanted me to apologize. Did you hear it all?” Devin asked quietly.

  Rocket felt himself getting red in the face. “Did he leave?”

  “Yup.” Devin paused. “You know what? I used to really like hockey. Dad made me quit. Told me there was no point. I sucked too much to make the NHL.” Devin shrugged and crossed his arms. “He wasn’t always like this. We were a real family when I was a kid. Now all he thinks about is signing players and making millions of dollars. Does it look like we need more money?”

  “Guess not.”

  Devin opened his mouth, as if to say something else, and then just leaned against the wall.

  “My parents got divorced when I was a little kid,” Rocket said. He hadn’t meant to say it. It had just blurted out.

  “Who do you live with now?”

  “My mom.”

  “And your dad?”

  “I don’t see him too often.” Rocket checked himself. “That doesn’t mean that …”

  “I get it. Who knows what will happen? I don’t think my dad is going to change, though. I think he cares more about being an agent than me or my mom. I think that’s just the way it is.”

  Rocket felt so badly for Devin, but he knew there was nothing he could do. Nothing he could say would make Devin feel any better about this. Sometimes in life you just had to experience things and get through them.

  “I’m real sorry for what happened, Devin,” Rocket said finally. “I’m sorry for your mom, too.”

  “Thanks.” Devin looked at his phone. “It’s late. See you tomorrow.”

  He closed the door behind him.

  Rocket lay down on his bed. His eyes suddenly felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each. He
should call Maddy and tell her not to come. What would happen tomorrow when he saw Cash, Hoffer and Gruny? He was going to be a zombie during practice …

  His mind shut down as he drifted away.

  CHAPTER 21

  Honk! Honk!

  Car tires squealed. A driver opened his window.

  “You trying to kill yourself?” he yelled at Rocket.

  Rocket skipped onto the sidewalk. He probably shouldn’t have tried to gun it across the street like that. The car hadn’t missed by much.

  Kimberly had needed to open her store this morning, so she couldn’t drive him. He didn’t mind. The walk to the rink gave him a chance to clear his head.

  The morning had been a bit crazy. He’d woken in a panic because he’d fallen asleep before telling Maddy not to come today. But he’d spoken to Kimberly about it, and she’d told him not to worry. She still wanted Maddy to stay.

  He was happy with that. He missed talking to Maddy in person — not that he’d ever tell her, naturally!

  Rocket checked the time on his phone. He was cutting it close, so he began to jog down the street. It felt good to stretch his legs.

  As he got to the arena, a door popped open.

  “Are you in a hurry to get somewhere?” Bossy was grinning.

  Rocket wasn’t going to get into the whole story. “My billet abandoned me and I had to walk.”

  “Relax, bro. We’re the third line, now. We got to add some swagger to our game. Can’t show up all panicked.”

  “Third line? Hope so,” Rocket said.

  “Come on. We’re in room six, the small one. Not sure why. Something about cleaning. Like they couldn’t have done that yesterday.”

  “Did you just get here, too?”

  “Nah, I got here early. I wanted to have a chat with some of the vets — about last night. But then Gold came in, started going on about playing with passion, fighting for every puck, blah, blah, blah. I couldn’t take it, so I said I needed to make a call. I saw him leave the room a minute ago.”

  They walked into the dressing room. Rocket looked around for his bag. He saw Kyle in the far corner and nodded hi.

  Then he saw Cash watching him.

  Great. Why did Chenny have to put his bag beside Cash’s?

  Rocket kept his gaze steady as he took his seat.