Double Shift

by David Skuy

  “Let’s do this, boys. Full out. It’s coming. I feel it,” he said.

  Spencer drifted over. “Thanks for making us sound like wusses to the coach,” Spencer said to him.

  “What are you talking about? I … I asked about the assistant captain.”

  “Great. And what’s with the new guys not liking the drills? Go Rule Five.” He skated off.

  Charlie felt the energy leave his body.

  “Spencer will start with the puck,” Hilton said. “He sends it across to Philip, and that’s the signal for the forwards to move. In a game, you’ll need to recognize this opportunity. The signal to start is the D-to-D cross-ice pass.”

  Hilton cradled the puck and then snapped a crisp pass to Spencer. He took it cleanly and rifled it to Philip, who took two steps forward, hesitated, and flipped it up the boards toward Dylan, who waved at it with his stick.

  The whistle blew.

  “Not bad, but lots of room for improvement,” Hilton said. “Charlie was in a better position. Feed it to him. Try again.”

  The result was no better. Charlie swerved inside the red line and looked back for the pass. Philip took three strides and tried to hit Jonathon racing across the top from the right boards.

  “Think Rule One. You’re making it hard on yourself. A three-metre pass to Charlie would solve your problems.”

  Charlie had his doubts. The problem was more serious, and the situation was anything but simple.

  8

  DECLINED

  Charlie stared glumly at his math textbook. He had a mountain of homework, zero motivation, and he’d just invited his buds to come over and watch the hockey game tonight. He ran his finger down the page to find the next problem. Voices from the hallway interrupted. When it came to math he was always ready to be distracted, and he began to listen.

  “Yes, Mrs. Joyce. We thoroughly reviewed the fire investigator’s report. I’m not at liberty to provide it to you. Sorry.”

  “But how can I respond to it if I can’t read it?” his mom said.

  “I understand how you feel, but this is an internal report. We paid for it, in effect. We also based our decision on it, and the findings are clear. As I told you on the telephone, the decision is final. We’re very confident about it. I need you to sign on the line at the bottom corner to indicate you acknowledge receiving this letter.”

  “I’m not signing anything,” she snapped.

  “Then I will provide you with this letter indicating you refused to sign the acknowledgement …” Charlie did not hear for a moment. “Here’s the letter that outlines our position. Do you have any other questions or concerns?”

  “Questions or concerns? Seriously? I have a fire and my insurance company won’t pay me. Everything is fantastic.”

  That did not sound like his mom. She was never sarcastic and rude.

  “If you don’t have any further questions or concerns, then I’ll wish you a good day. I hope if we meet again it will be under better circumstances.”

  “I hope we don’t.”

  “Good day, Mrs. Joyce.”

  Charlie heard his mom gasp for air and breathe deeply several times. Then he heard a loud bang. It sounded like the front door being slammed. He went into the hall. His mom looked over at him.

  “Would you please tell your sister to come up to the kitchen? I need to speak to you both.”

  He looked around. “Did you hear that noise?”

  “I did,” she said.

  “What was it?”

  “Please get your sister.”

  It did not sound like a request. He went downstairs and found Danielle flopped out on the couch watching TV. “Family meeting, D. Come on up,” he said.

  “I’m watching.”

  “I can see that. Mom wants to talk to us.”

  “Later.”

  “I think not. Come on.”

  “Go away, Charlie.”

  He sighed. “Don’t make me drag you up there. You know I hate all forms of violence.”

  “Bring it, little man.”

  He launched his attack from behind the couch, rolling over the back, careful not to land right on her. She grabbed a pillow and got in a direct head shot. Charlie pulled a cushion over her and did a couple of light belly flops.

  “I can’t even feel that,” she squealed in between giggles. “You’re pathetic.”

  “Charlie! Danielle! Upstairs. Now.”

  It was time to hurry this up. He threw the cushion off, scooped her up and began spinning around as fast as he could. It was his go-to end-the-wrestling-with-Danielle move.

  “Okay. Okay. Let me walk. Let me walk.”

  Laughing, she staggered toward the stairs.

  “Not bad, Danny,” he encouraged.

  She weaved a fair bit, and knocked into a chair, but otherwise made it there unscathed. She held her arms up in the classic muscle-man pose. “I declare myself the Dan-stroyer, crusher of brothers, undefeated and totally awesome.”

  “Let’s call it a draw, then,” Charlie said. He pointed upstairs. “Time to boogie, girl. Mom’s a bit frantic today.”

  “How come?” she said.

  “Don’t know. Something about the insurance on the café. We’ll find out soon enough.”

  “Hey, Mom,” Danielle said, as she walked into the kitchen. “I’m hungry.”

  Their mom sat at the kitchen table, dabbing the corner of her eye with a tissue. This was the second time since the fire he had seen her so upset. It almost made him cry. He took a few deep breaths. Her face was pale and her eyes were puffy. “I’ll fix you something in a minute. Can you sit down? We have to discuss a few things. There have been some changes, or at least the insurance company made a decision that will force me to make some changes.”

  They sat. Apart from the hum of the fridge it was completely quiet. Charlie prepared himself for bad news.

  “I just spoke to the insurance adjuster,” she continued. “Apparently, the investigators have decided that we were partly to blame for the fire …”

  The bottom of his stomach began to churn, and a gross taste rose up to his mouth.

  “… along with the company that installed the hood over the range. Every restaurant must have a fire suppression system and …” She bunched her right hand into a fist, and then slowly put it back on her lap. “To make a long story short, the system wasn’t turned on. Can you believe it?” She laughed, but not in a happy way. “The insurance company is holding me accountable. How was I supposed to know? And to make matters worse, the company that installed the hood is not in business anymore.”

  “Can’t we complain to someone?” Charlie asked.

  “I will need to get a lawyer and fight this. It’s completely unfair. Sure the range was left on, but the system is there for exactly that type of thing. What kind of incompetent dolt installs a fire system and then doesn’t turn it on? I mean, really.”

  “I started the fire,” Charlie said quietly.

  His mom leaned forward and put her hand on his. “You don’t own this, honey. Sure, you left it on. We all make mistakes. And maybe I have to pay a bit because you’re underage and can’t legally use the range. But I’m not going to take the blame for a faulty fire system.”

  Charlie’s head was spinning. He wasn’t legally allowed to use the range?

  “I’ll handle this,” she said. “My main concern is that I owe some money to the bank and to the landlord, and with the café closed I am going to have trouble making my payments. And of course the lawyer is going to cost me … well … hopefully less than a bundle. Pudge’s dad has been a dear and he’s going to let me work in his kitchen in the mornings. They don’t open until eleven o’clock for lunch, and so I won’t be in anyone’s way. I’ve got some baking work for other cafés and restaurants, and if I can build that business I should be able to keep things going until … well … until the lawyer we get changes the insurance company’s mind and they give us the money to fix the café. I have to speak to the bank too. If t
hey’ll cut me some slack then …”

  She clasped her fingers together and pressed them into her lap.

  “I’ll have to work in the mornings. Very early in the morning, as in four o’clock.” His mom turned to him. “I’m going to have to rely on you guys a bit more around here to help out with stuff like breakfast and getting off to school.”

  “Charlie can’t make breakfast. He’s useless.”

  “Thanks, Danny,” Charlie said.

  “He’ll learn,” his mom said, smiling for the first time. “I’ll also need you guys to help me with cleaning and getting your homework done on time, and probably I’ll need Charlie to take Danielle to drama, which won’t be too bad since you can walk. Hockey’s a bit more of a chore, but you could go by bus.” She tried to smile; but to Charlie it only made her seem more upset. “The first time Grandma and Grandpa decide to go to Florida for the winter …”

  “None of that’s a problem, Mom,” Charlie said. His heart was pounding. He was going to make this right. “Whatever you need, and you can tell Danielle that actually I’m the best breakfast-maker in the country — the world champion, actually.”

  “You can’t even beat me in a wrestle,” she said.

  “That’s because you cheat,” he said.

  “No way!”

  His mom held up her hand. “Hold on a sec. One more thing.” She clenched her hands in her lap again. “A friend of mine, Theresa — you may remember her, Charlie, you met her once years ago when Danny was only a baby — she recently opened a restaurant, and she needs a pastry chef. And there’s a good chance she’ll let me become a part-owner.”

  Charlie almost collapsed with relief. She was making it sound like it was the end of the world. Sure, it would be awful if the Rainbow Café did not reopen. But his mom was the best baker in Terrence Falls. Everyone said so.

  “I’ll miss the Rainbow,” Danielle said. “Can Hannah and me still have a snack at this new place?”

  “That’s a sweet question, cutie,” she said. “You’ve both been so strong, dealing with Daddy’s accident, and coming to Terrence Falls and doing so well here. But … unfortunately, my friend’s restaurant is not in Terrence Falls.”

  Danielle looked confused. “Then how can you work there?”

  Charlie’s heart did a flip, and he found it hard to breathe all of a sudden.

  “It’s in Stanville, Danny,” she said softly.

  “What?” Danielle said.

  “Which is why —”

  “You’re kidding!” Charlie said. “We have to move — for real? There must be a restaurant in Terrence Falls. I could ask Pudge’s dad …”

  She held her hand up. “We’re not moving yet. Like I said, it’s only a maybe. I wanted you to know about it, that’s all. For now, I need you both to help me out at home, and focus on your schoolwork so I don’t have to worry.”

  “I could get a job, like Matt did when his dad got laid off,” Charlie said. “I can do roofing, work at a restaurant, anything. Then we’d have more money for the bank and the landlord.”

  “That’s my Charlie, always solving problems,” his mom said. She rubbed his arm. “But you’re so busy with school and hockey, and now with helping at home and taking care of Danielle, you won’t have much time for work.”

  “But me and Hannah are in the school play together, remember?” Danielle said.

  “I know, honey.”

  Danielle started crying. “I don’t want to leave. We just got here.”

  “It’s my fault,” Charlie said flatly. His head made him feel as if he were floating on air, but his stomach felt tight and heavy. “I used the range even though I knew I wasn’t supposed to, and then I forgot to turn it off.”

  “I told you, you can’t blame yourself,” his mom said, almost angrily. “This is on the insurance company. Things happen, sometimes bad things.” She closed her eyes for a few painful seconds. “I believe we all know that.”

  All three sat quietly for a moment.

  “You can go watch TV again, dear; and don’t worry about Stanville.” She raised Danielle’s chin with her finger. “Okay?”

  “I won’t tell Hannah,” Danielle said. “She’ll cry too much.” She hugged her mom. “I’m going to watch TV.”

  His mom looked at him. He couldn’t meet her gaze. Leave Terrence Falls? For real? The Rebels, his friends, school — all gone. He could not let that happen. He would get ten part-time jobs before that. The doorbell interrupted his dire thoughts.

  “Perfect timing,” his mom said. “Who could that be?”

  He had forgotten to tell her about his friends. “Uh … I invited some of the guys over to watch hockey. Sorry, I should have told you.”

  “That’s wonderful,” she said. “It’ll be nice for you — take your mind off this …”

  Danielle poked her head into the kitchen. She was holding the phone. “Can I invite Hannah for a sleepover?” Danielle said.

  “I have to go out later and meet Pudge’s father at his restaurant. Maybe another night is better.”

  “I’ll babysit,” Charlie said.

  “I’m not a baby,” Danielle said.

  “I meant, I’ll watch the two young ladies.”

  The doorbell rang again. His mom pointed toward the front door. “Your friends?”

  “No probs, Mom. I’ll feed the girls, even play with them a bit, and get them to bed. I promise.”

  “Will you agree not to give Charlie a hard time?” she asked Danielle.

  “We’ll be good as gold — but only this one time.”

  She gave them each a kiss. “You’re both great kids, and I’m very proud of you. Thanks.”

  Danielle dialled a number. “Hey Hannah, you can come over. My dumb brother will watch us …” She drifted away.

  “You should get the door,” his mom said.

  He crossed his arms. “I should tell them to go home. I’m not into it,” he said.

  She got up and grabbed him by the arms. “It’s one more challenge, but we’re still together, still a family. We have another bump in the road, that’s all.”

  “We seem to have more bumps than other people,” he said. The doorbell rang three times in a row. He left before she responded.

  “Hey, Joyce. Trying to freeze us to death?” Scott bellowed, as he marched into the house. “There’s a little thing called winter, and he’s introducing himself again.”

  Pudge, Matt and Nick followed him in.

  “Mind your manners, little boy,” Nick said to Scott, “or you won’t get your warm milk tonight.” He poked him with his cane.

  “But … but … how will I ever get to sleep?”

  Zachary hobbled in. “Yo, dudes. Hall party?”

  “Charlie’s decided it would be more fun to stand at the front door and make funny faces all night,” Scott said.

  “If the hockey game is boring that’s a good fallback,” Nick said. “Not your best idea, though, to be honest.”

  “Not his worst, either,” Scott said. “That was inviting you.”

  “That glass of milk is so gonzo,” Nick said.

  “We could try watching the game,” Charlie said, hoping he sounded normal. “But I really like the hall idea too.”

  “So let’s leave Nick here and go downstairs,” Scott said.

  Charlie noticed something. “Nick, no cast. That’s progress, isn’t it?”

  He sighed and tapped his knee with a cane. “Barely. Now it’s physio, physio, physio. I went this morning. My leg has the strength of spaghetti.”

  “That’s weird. I didn’t expect your leg to get stronger in a cast,” Scott said.

  “Dude, physio is the worst,” Zachary said. “My knee kills and the guy keeps bending it and making me work out. Use it or lose it, he keeps telling me. And when I tell him I’m happy to lose it, he orders me to do more anyway.”

  “At least you guys can work out,” Matt said. “With my concussion all I can do is wait.”

  “When is the waiting o
ver?” Zachary said.

  “I’m waiting to find out,” Matt said, to the boys’ amusement. “Actually,” he added, “I’ve been symptom-free for about two weeks. I go one more and the doctor should clear me to play.”

  “Please don’t tell Spencer or Brandon I said this, and I’m not making a joke here, but I can’t wait,” Charlie said. “We’re barely treading water. Last practice was a disaster. I mentioned to Hilton, in a general way, that some of the guys are unhappy about the new system, and then Hilton tells that to everyone and Spencer thinks I dissed the new guys. The new Rebels regret coming to the team. They don’t think much of me as captain; the dressing room is about as much fun as homework and we’ve got a game in two days.”

  “What is this strange word he uses — home-work?” Scott said very slowly.

  “Maybe I should talk to Spencer and Brandon straight out,” Charlie said.

  “I say forget the talk. You gotta prove it on the ice,” Zachary said.

  Nick tapped the floor with his cane. “Nothing will be solved without us sitting on our butts and watching the hockey game. We must go downstairs forthwith … or fifthwith … or sandwich … or now.”

  “Did you say sandwich?” Scott said, licking his lips. He put a hand to his ear. “Hark. Do I hear a life-form in the kitchen?”

  “Shh. I will investigate,” Nick said.

  “The boy’s an idiot,” Scott whispered. “He’s going to ask for a sandwich and forget about dessert — and appetizers.” He tiptoed after him.

  “Hello, Donna,” Nick said. “How are we today?”

  “I’m quite well, Nick. How’s the leg?”

  “The head’s the real problem,” Scott answered for him.

  “And how are you, Scott?” she said.

  “Fabulous, Donna.” He patted his stomach. “It has been a long time since my last meal, however, and I am quite light-headed — starving, really. Not that I’m complaining. It’s nice of Charlie to have us over, granted the hallway thing was dumb —”

  “Would you boys like me to make you a snack?” she interrupted.

  “Not if it’s a bother,” Scott said.