TIMBERWOLF
Trap
Sigmund Brouwer
illustrated by Dean Griffiths
To Micky,
A great kid with a great idea. Thanks!
Remember to chase your dreams.
Text copyright © 2007 Sigmund Brouwer
Illustrations copyright © 2007 Dean Griffiths
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Brouwer, Sigmund, 1959-
Timberwolf trap / written by Sigmund Brouwer ; illustrated by Dean Griffiths.
(Orca echoes)
ISBN 978-1-55143-722-4
I. Griffiths, Dean, 1967- II. Title. III. Series.
PS8553.R68467T548 2007 jC813’.54 C2007-903954-5
First published in the United States, 2007
Library of Congress Control Number: 2007930921
Summary: In this fourth book in the Timberwolves series, Johnny Maverick and
Tom Morgan are in a race for the league’s goal-scoring trophy.
Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
Typesetting by Teresa Bubela
Cover artwork and interior illustrations by Dean Griffiths
ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
PO BOX 5626, STN. B PO BOX 468
VICTORIA, BC CANADA CUSTER, WA USA
V8R 6S4 98240-0468
www.orcabook.com
Printed and bound in Canada.
Printed on 100% PCW recycled paper.
010 09 08 07 • 4 3 2 1
Contents
Chapter One: A Secret Mission
Chapter Two: The Smelly Socks of Death
Chapter Three: It’s About Teamwork
Chapter Four: The Race Gets Close
Chapter Five: Watch, Listen and Learn
Chapter Six: Hallway Trouble
Chapter Seven: A First Time for Johnny
Chapter Eight: Running on Empty
Chapter Nine: A Smelly Loser?
Chapter Ten: A Smelly Hug
Chapter Eleven: The Loud Crunch
Chapter Twelve: Blame Dad
Chapter One
A Secret Mission
“Not again,” Johnny said to his dad.
It was night. Game time was a half hour away. Johnny and Dad were standing beside Dad’s big black 4x4 truck in the parking lot of the rink. Dad had parked his truck beside Coach Smith’s small blue car.
“Again,” Dad said to Johnny Maverick. Dad lifted a small gas can from the back of his truck and put it on the snow at Johnny’s feet. “I’ll watch for cars. You pour. Remember that Coach Smith can’t find out we’re doing this.”
“Dad, this will make me the last guy in the dressing room again,” Johnny said. He was a center for the Howling Timberwolves hockey team. “Just like last game when we did this. And the game before.”
“Coach Smith can’t catch us when he is in the dressing room,” Dad said. “Besides, you’ll have plenty of time. Who cares if you are the last guy in the dressing room?”
“I do,” Johnny said. “The last two guys always have to sit beside Dale. The rest of the dressing room fills up first as far away from him as possible.”
“I’ve heard about the smelly socks of death,” Dad said. “I didn’t know it was that bad.”
“It’s worse than bad,” Johnny said.
“Sorry.” Dad released the cap of the gas tank of Coach Smith’s small car. “Help me with this, and I will owe you. How’s that?”
“I wish instead you would just tell me why we are putting gas into Coach Smith’s car three games in a row.”
“I heard you once locked Eldridge in the janitor’s closet with Stinky,” Dad said.1
Stinky was a slow fat dog that hung around the rink. Stinky made loud rude noises that did not come from his front end. Getting stuck in a closet with Stinky was not good, at least not if you liked breathing. Eldridge knew that now.
“You heard about that?” Johnny asked. He wondered if he should try to tell his Dad it had been an accident.
“Don’t try to tell me it was an accident,” Dad said.
“Of course not,” Johnny said.
“You stomped shaving cream on that woman in the hotel during the tournament in Calgary,”2 Dad said.
“Hey!” Johnny said. He wondered how his dad knew all these things. “It really was an accident! I was trying to get Tom. That woman got in the way.”
“You like to mess with your friends,” Dad said. “This is perfect because people know I do too. Especially because this is also a secret mission to be a good neighbor. I want to help him build his garage.”
Coach Smith was their neighbor. He lived two houses down from Johnny.
“Sneaking gas into Coach Smith’s tank makes us good neighbors?” Johnny asked.
“Only a little gas at a time,” Dad answered. “Not enough for him to notice on his fuel gauge.”
“How does that make us good neighbors?” Johnny asked.
Dad shook his head sadly. “Remember how Coach Smith wouldn’t let anyone help him build his deck last spring?”
“He nailed his thumb to a post with the nail gun,” Johnny said. Everyone in the neighborhood had been gone that day. Coach Smith had been stuck to the post for two hours. “The deck was crooked and fell apart in the summer when everyone stood on it during his birthday party.”
“Some people are too proud to let anyone help,” Dad said, “but if he builds the garage by himself, he could get hurt again.”
“If the garage falls on someone,” Johnny said, “that would be worse than when we fell through his deck.”
“Right,” Dad said. “That’s why Coach Smith’s wife gave me a spare key to his car.”
“She knows about this too?” Johnny said. “I don’t understand what is going on.”
“You will.” Dad grinned at Johnny. “Just watch. Listen. And learn.”
Chapter Two
The Smelly Socks of Death
“Sorry that you got stuck beside me again,” Dale said to Johnny.
Johnny had been right. Helping his dad pour gas into the tank of Coach Smith’s car had made Johnny the last guy into the dressing room.
“Don’t worry about it,” Johnny said. “It has to happen to someone. Right, Tom?”
“Right,” Tom said. Tom was on the other side of Dale. He was plugging his nose. “Remind me never to be late again.”
Tom was the other center on the Timberwolves team. All of the players lived in a small town called Howling.Tom had just joined the team this season. He used to live in a big city.
Tom lifted his thumb and finger away from his nose. “Nothing personal, Dale. This is the first time I’ve had to sit beside you. I’m not used to it.”
“Nobody gets used to it,” Dale said. “If you think it is bad sitting beside me, imagine what it is like to wear this stuff.”
Dale lifted a pair of hockey socks out of his hockey bag.
“There they are,” Johnny said sadly. He tried not to breathe through his nose. “The smelly socks of death.”
“I get my mom to wash them every game,” Dale said. “But then she throws them into my hockey bag and they get smelly again.”
Dale d
idn’t have to explain why. Inside the hockey bag were his smelly hockey gloves of death. His smelly shin pads of death. His smelly elbow pads of death. His smelly jockstrap of death. Everyone on the team agreed that Dale had the smelliest hockey equipment in the history of hockey.
“Got more of that stuff I used last week?” Johnny said. “You know, the heat rub.”
“Sure,” Dale said. He reached into his hockey bag. “Here.”
It was a small tube of white ointment. It was supposed to be rubbed on sore muscles. It smelled like spearmint and peppermint. It was very strong.
“Thanks,” Johnny said. He squeezed some heat rub out like toothpaste. He smeared it below his nose. The smell made his eyes water. But it was better than smelling the hockey socks of death. And the elbow pads of death. And especially the hockey gloves of death. “That’s better.”
“Me too,” Tom said. Johnny handed him the tube. Tom rubbed some below his nose. “Thanks, Dale. That helps.”
“No problem,” Dale said. “Just remember to wipe it off before you play.”
“Why?” Tom asked.
“Oh, boy,” Dale said. “I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?” Tom asked.
“That stuff stings when you get sweaty,” Dale said. “It’s just a lot worse if you don’t wipe it off.”
Chapter Three
It’s about Teamwork
Johnny had a white smear around his lips. Stu skated beside him in the warm-ups before the start of the game. Stu Duncan was Johnny’s best friend.
“Nice clown face,” Stu said. “I hope you play better than a clown tonight. Especially if you want a chance at beating Tom in the goal-scoring race.”
“It’s not about scoring goals,” Johnny said. “It’s about teamwork.”
“Amazing,” Stu said.
“Not really,” Johnny said. “I’ve always said it’s about teamwork.”
“No,” Stu said. “Amazing that you sound truthful when you say that. It’s me. Stu. Your best friend.I know you want to win the goal-scoring race.”
Johnny grinned. “You’re right. I do.”
Tom skated up to the two of them. He had a white line below his nose, just like Johnny.
“Nice clown face,” Stu said.
Tom frowned. “I wiped as much off as I could. But it really stings when you sweat.”
“Better than the smelly hockey socks of death,” Johnny said.
“And the smelly hockey gloves of death,” Stu said, “and the smelly jockstrap of death.”
The three of them were skating a wide circle in their end. Their opponents were warming up on the other side of the ice. Tonight the Timberwolves were playing the Chinooks, a team from a town just down the road.
“Howling is a crazy small town,” Tom said. “I thought nothing could surprise me about it anymore. But I was wrong.”
“What surprises you?” Johnny asked.
“That no one has helped Dale get new equipment,” Tom said. “He told me it smells because it’s been handed down from brother to brother for the last fifteen years.”
“Yeah,” Johnny said. “He is brother number eight. No wonder his equipment is so smelly.”
“Why doesn’t his family get new equipment for him?” Tom asked.
“They don’t have a lot of money,” Stu said. “It’s not a big deal. Not everyone can be rich like your family.”
“It is a big deal if you have to smell it,” Tom said. “It’s like five skunks have sprayed him.”
“Seven,” Stu said. “I had to sit beside him last week. But we accept him the way he is.”
“Yes,” Johnny said. “That’s because he is part of our team. And remember, Tom, it’s all about teamwork.”
“Amazing,” Tom said. “You sounded very truthful when you said that. But I know you want to beat me in the goal-scoring race.”
“Sure,” Johnny said, “but I’m part of the team too. What’s good for me is good for the team.”
“Ha, ha,” Tom said. “You need to work on sounding more truthful.”
Before Tom could say anything else, the ref blew the whistle to start the game.
Chapter Four
The Race Gets Close
Three minutes were left in the game. The Chinooks were two men short. They were also losing by two goals. Everyone in the rink knew that the Timberwolves would win the game.
Coach Smith sent Johnny’s line onto the ice. Johnny had already scored two goals. He needed just one more goal to tie Tom for goal-scoring leader in the league.
“This is great,” Johnny said to Dale as they skated to the face-off circle. “Maybe we can each score a goal. I will be tied with Tom, and you can have your first goal of the season.”
“That would be great,” Dale said. “Some of the guys on the other team have been bugging me because I don’t have a goal yet.”
The face-off was in the Timberwolves’ end.
Johnny lost the draw. The puck went to the Chinooks’ defenseman. Johnny skated hard to block the shot. It bounced off his shin pad and past the defenseman. Past the Timberwolves’ blue line.
It was easy for Dale to get to the puck first. There were only three Chinooks’ skaters on the ice against the five Timberwolves skaters.
Dale raced forward with the puck. Johnny chased after him. They had a two-man breakaway!
“I’ll go wide!” Johnny shouted to Dale. “Keep skating!”
The crowd cheered as they raced down the ice.
Now they were past the centerline. Then the Chinooks’ blue line! Still just the two of them.
Johnny moved to the left. The Chinook goalie couldn’t face both Johnny and Dale at the same time. The Chinook goalie stayed square to Dale.
Dale moved in close. He deked the goalie. The goalie fell. Dale had an open shot at the net.
He passed to Johnny.
Johnny was so surprised, he almost missed the puck. But the net was so open all he had to do was tap it in.
Goal!
Now Johnny was tied with Tommy in the goal-scoring race!
Johnny lifted his hands as the crowd cheered. Dale skated over and gave him a high five.
“Thanks,” Johnny said to Dale. “Now let’s get you a goal.”
“Great,” Dale said.
But now that a goal had been scored, one of the Chinook penalties ended. The Chinooks had four skaters on the ice. It was much harder to score.
The game ended before Dale had a chance to shoot on the net.
No goal for Dale. And only one game left for him to do it. That would be against the Gophers in a few days.
Chapter Five
Watch, Listen and Learn
With the game over, many of the parents walked into the dressing room. They congratulated the boys on their win against the Chinooks.
“Good game, you guys,” Johnny’s dad said. “Good work in the corners, Dale. Nice goals, Johnny and Tom. Now you’re tied for the goal-scoring race, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know, Mr. Maverick,” Tom said to Johnny’s dad. “To me, it’s all about teamwork.”
“Amazing,” Dad said. “You sounded very truthful when you said that. I almost believed you.”
Then Dad sniffed and made a funny face. “Dale, do I smell the socks of death? Or did a little animal crawl in your hockey bag and die?”
“Haven’t found dead animals in my hockey bag,” Dale said. “But I do store it in the barn. Over Christmas vacation, the cat had kittens in it. They weren’t litter trained.”
“This town just gets better and better,” Tom said. “Am I living in a bad dream?”
“Dale’s got some heat rub you can put on your face,” Johnny said to Dad. “That will help.”
“No,” Dad said, “heat rub hurts. I’ll just go to the other side of the dressing room. Nothing personal, Dale.”
“No problem,” Dale said. “I understand. But I thought the mother might let the kittens die if I moved them from my hockey bag. They sure peed a lot for such
little things.”
Before Dad could move away, Coach Smith saw him.
“Hey!” Coach Smith said to Johnny’s dad. “How’s that gas guzzler of yours? We need to be nice to the world, you know.”
“I wish I could drive a small car too,” Dad said. “Four-wheel drives never get good gas mileage.
But with my job I can’t afford to get stuck. I need something that can drive through and over anything.”
“Well, let me tell you about my car,” Coach Smith said. “Remember a few weeks ago how I told you I had a special computer tune-up? Now it doesn’t use a drop of gas.”
“Not a drop?” Johnny’s dad said.
“Well, it uses some gas, of course,” Coach Smith said, “but I’m getting at least seventy miles to the gallon.”
“No way,” Dad said. He saw that Johnny was listening. “How do you figure that?”
“Easy,” Coach Smith said. “I keep track of how many miles I drive. I also keep track of how much gas it takes to fill the tank. In the last few weeks I went two hundred and ten miles and the car only used three gallons of gas. That’s seventy miles to the gallon.”
“Wow,” Johnny’s dad said, “that is amazing. Maybe you should tell someone at the newspaper about this. Everyone will want the kind of tune-up you just had. It might get you some extra business too.”
“Good idea,” Coach Smith said. “I just might do that.”
Coach Smith walked away.
Johnny’s dad smiled at Johnny.
“Remember,” Dad said to Johnny. “Watch. Listen. And learn.”
Chapter Six
Hallway Trouble
“Look at the Howling Gazette,” Johnny said to Stu. Johnny was holding a newspaper. It was a week after their last game. They were standing in the library before school started. The library was one of their favorite places because they loved reading good books.
“Why should I look at the Howling Gazette?” Stu asked. “There’s a new Captain Underpants book here.”
Students went up and down the hallway outside the window. Johnny ignored them.
Timberwolf Trap Page 1