by David Skuy
“Number eight. In the box,” the ref snapped.
A penalty on him! “For what?” he demanded.
The ref skated to the scorer’s bench, and he made a chopping motion with his right hand to his left arm.
“Slashing?” Charlie yelled. “I never touched the guy.”
“Into the box, number eight,” Mike said from behind. Charlie whirled around. Mike flashed a toothy grin. “Learn to play by the rules.”
“I never slashed you,” Charlie said.
“That’s not the point,” Mike said. “The referee thinks you did, which is good enough for me.”
“Forget him,” Pudge said. “Dumb call. We’ll kill it.”
“Or the Dunnster will snipe his second,” Mike chimed.
“You’re hard to take, Dunn,” Charlie said.
Mike laughed. “I’ll give you the puck after I score.”
“Now that’s actually funny,” Charlie said. He tapped Pudge’s shin pads and headed to the penalty box.
Hilton sent out Matt and Nazem for the kill, with the twins on D. Charlie felt bad for Pudge having to miss his shift, and doubly bad for putting the Rebels in such a bad spot, even if it was a bogus call. Matt won the draw and Christopher blasted the puck off the boards and down the ice. The Hornets goalie trapped the puck behind the net and left it for his left defenceman, who waited for his teammates to set up. Mike curled in front to the right, and the defenceman followed him up ice. Matt forced him at the top of the circle and the defenceman lofted a pass up to Mike, who was looking back for the puck the entire time.
Charlie had noticed Robert cheating up from the blue line. He could feel the pain coming. Robert lowered his shoulder and Mike was lifted off his feet and crashed to the ice on his back.
Instantly, the ref’s hand went up, and a groan sounded from the Rebels supporters.
“No way,” Charlie said, smashing the glass with a glove. “You’re still allowed to hit in hockey. Two bad calls in a row.”
Scott and Nick were booing in the stands, and the Rebels were on their feet yelling. None of it did any good, of course. The referee tapped his shoulder to indicate charging, and Robert came over to the penalty box. Charlie opened the door for him.
“You’re gone, number five. That was a hit to the head,” the referee said.
“That was perfectly legal,” Charlie said, leaning onto the ice. “He never came close to touching his head.”
The ref’s eyes blazed. “One more word out of you, number eight, and you’ll be outta here too. Now shut that door.”
Charlie had to use every ounce of self-control not to diss him back. Refs were hard to take sometimes. They had all the power and they never listened, even when they were wrong. He knew it was a tough job, but still. Robert stared at the ref, and was about to say something, when he simply shook his head and left for the door. Boos cascaded down from the stands.
Pudge came over to serve Robert’s five-minute penalty.
“A two-man advantage for five minutes and thirty-eight seconds,” Charlie said, as his buddy sat down. “How much worse can this get?”
The sat glumly and watched the Hornets pass the puck around the Rebels’ zone. About thirty seconds later Charlie found out that things could get a lot worse, as the Hornets left defenceman sneaked in the back door to convert on a sharp cross-ice pass that nicked Martin’s blocker and bounced into the bottom corner of the net.
“It’s been a slice,” Charlie said. “Catch you back at the ranch.”
This was supposed to be the start of the playoff run. He did not know what was worse, to be losing 4–0 in the first period or to have to listen to Mike Dunn bragging about it at school. Brandon was setting up at centre, so Charlie went to the bench. Hilton remained in his arms-across-the-chest pose, his frown now much, much more pronounced.
22
BITTER SWEET
Crack!
Matt tossed the broken tile into the garbage can.
“This is impossible,” Matt cried, throwing his gloves on the floor. “It can’t be done. The guy at the hardware store said this would cut any tile. We’ve busted six already.” He slid the tile cutter across the floor and threw his gloves at it.
Julia took her gloves off too and, shoulders slumped, shook her head from side to side. “I’ve read and re-read those instructions ten times. We’re doing everything right. Maybe we got a defective model.”
Charlie came over. A bunch of floor tiles in the kitchen had changed colour because of the splattered oil. They had agonized over whether to replace them; but when they found tiles at the car dealership that were very close in colour they decided to do it. Charlie thought the luck in finding the tiles was a sign that they should go for it, and he figured it would be a nice thing for his mom to see. The only problem was the new tiles were bigger. They had laughed when the first tile they cut had broken. It did not seem so funny now.
“This could be a job for your dad,” Julia said to Matt. “Is he going to be able to come?”
Matt looked pained. “He promised to try, but I wouldn’t hold my breath. The owner is crazed about the job getting done before Christmas, and my dad’s been working fourteen-hour days.”
This was their fourth straight day working after school. Things took so long, though. Things Charlie thought would take ten minutes would still not be finished two hours later, and half the time whatever it was looked so bad it had to be redone. The cleaning up had gone so well, but it had been all downhill from there, and Charlie could tell the boys were getting discouraged. It had taken them a day to just chisel the broken and scorched tiles out, and they had made a mess of the job on top of that. He was thinking they should have left the tiles alone.
“Speaking of impossible, I can’t put on the drywall mud without leaving a massive line,” Zachary said. He had white muck all over him. “The YouTube video made it look like a joke — but the joke’s totally on me, dudes.”
He was right. The walls looked like garbage. In fact, the café looked like garbage.
Dalton turned around from the stove. “I am really getting cross with this appliance. I cannot understand why the timer will not function. I’ve checked it ten times. Now I’m worried the used motherboard is defective.”
“What’s a new one cost?” Charlie asked, bracing himself.
Dalton’s face fell. “It would be prohibitive. Maybe seven hundred dollars, or more like a thousand.”
“That’s crazy,” Charlie said.
“Not as crazy as the ceiling tiles,” Pudge said. His face was beet red and covered in sweat. “They are held up by these metal tracks with slots. The new tiles are a tiny big bigger than the old ones and we can’t get them into the slots without damaging the tracks. We’ve wasted an hour on one tile. And don’t suggest cutting them. We butchered a few tiles already.”
“Have we made any progress today?” Charlie said in a loud voice.
“Scott learned to hold a hammer,” Nick said.
His joke fell flat. Charlie struggled to keep calm. “Okay. Not a big deal. We need a new plan. Maybe we should all focus on one thing instead of everyone dividing into little groups. Maybe …”
Spencer came down from the ladder. Tapping his hand with a screwdriver he said, “Charlie, I understand this is seriously important for you. It’s just that … Well, I’m not sure the plan is the problem.”
“I’m open to any ideas,” Charlie said.
“That’s just it — I don’t have any,” Spencer said.
“Not sure that will work,” Charlie said.
Spencer waved his hand at the walls. “Look around, Charlie, Nothing is working. We don’t have the skills.”
“And I’m gonna fail my English test if I don’t study,” Philip said.
“I think we’re too tired,” Charlie said. “The guys who need to study or go to sleep should take off. That’s cool. Get stoked for tomorrow and …”
“We have a game tomorrow,” Dalton said. “Against the Wildcats.”
<
br /> “Great. I really feel like getting stuffed by Jake,” Scott said.
“Because we suck so bad? I’m really getting tired of being told how great the Rebels will be when you guys are healthy. I know you can play, it’s not that, but come on — it’s not like we’re not trying. ” Spencer said.
Scott turned pale and he spun the hammer he was holding in his hand. “No one sucks. I meant … we’re tired …” He didn’t finish.
“Rule Five, guys,” Charlie said. “Let’s not get down on ourselves, or each other. Once we nail Hilton’s new system, we’ll smoke the Wildcats, and the Snow Birds for that matter. We’re just going through a rough patch.” He picked up another tile.
“I’ll stay and work a bit more,” he continued. “No problem. There are probably too many bodies getting in each other’s way. I’ll figure out some shifts, too. That way we aren’t working all at the same time and guys can get homework done and stuff. I’ll email something to Dalton tonight, and you too, Pudge. Look it over and let me know if it makes sense. You guys should take off and rest up.”
“It’s not that …” Spencer said.
Charlie was getting frustrated. “What is it then?” he said.
“We need a professional. We don’t know what we’re doing. This might’ve worked if your mom had hired some people,” Spencer said.
“It’s not her fault she doesn’t have the money,” Charlie shot back. He felt his blood beginning to boil.
“No one said it was,” Pudge said.
“There is a bit of a skill gap,” Nick said.
Charlie struggled to take it in. He could understand Spencer getting tired of working, and he assumed the other new Rebels were fed up also. To hear Pudge and Nick, his closest friends, side with Spencer — what was going on? He looked around. None of the guys would meet his gaze, including his buds, and they all seemed to be shifting their weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.
Crash!
Charlie spun around. A newly installed ceiling tile had fallen onto the floor, breaking into large pieces. A thin film of dust floated in the air. He felt sick.
“We should call it a night,” Zachary said. He looked totally worn out.
“Probably makes sense,” Matt said, wiping his hands on his sweatshirt.
“Sorry, Charlie,” Jonathon said. “It was a good idea …”
All of a sudden he understood. It hit him like a thunderbolt. They were not just going home for the night. They were leaving for good. The new plan was to give up. They didn’t have the skills. It was as simple as that. In a flash he accepted what he had suspected but had ignored for the past couple of days. The weirdest part was he did not really feel upset. In fact, he felt calm, even relaxed.
“You guys are right. What can you do? That’s life. Leave the tools. I’ll deal with it tomorrow. Most of them are Matt’s dad’s, or my mom bought them. Thanks for the help. I still owe you. You didn’t have to do this, none of you. We’ll focus on the Wildcats. That’s a huge game.”
“Can’t lose to the Wildcats. It’s against the laws of nature,” Scott said.
Spencer came over. “This isn’t right. There’s gotta be something we can do.”
Charlie waved him off. “You guys have been awesome. Way above the call. Let’s win that game tomorrow.”
Spencer held out his fist. “We still good?”
“Definitely.”
They bumped fists.
Zachary held out his fist next. “See ya later, dude.”
“Cool,” Charlie said.
The guys said their goodbyes and began to file out. It was all very low key and almost surreal for Charlie, as if this was just a normal day instead of the end of the Rainbow Café. His mom had been right after all. It had been a big waste of time.
“If you’re lonely playing tomorrow you can climb into the stands for a hug,” Scott said to him.
“We’re here for ya, baby,” Nick said.
“I know it,” Charlie said. “I’ll definitely see you there after the second period.”
A horn sounded. Dalton ran out to see who it was. He came right back. “Matt, I believe your father is here.”
“Now my dad comes?” Matt said, throwing his hands in the air.
Pudge placed his gloves down on a table. “Catch you later,” he said to Charlie, and turned to leave.
Charlie grabbed his sleeve. “It was a good try. Our luck just ran out.”
Pudge nodded, and seemed about to say something when he shrugged, crossed his arms and looked toward the door. Matt was coming back.
“I may as well take my dad’s tools now,” he said.
“I’ll help,” Charlie said, and he began to pick up a few tools around him. He reached for a hammer lying on the floor.
“I got that,” Julia said.
“Thanks. Cool.” He and Julia gathered a bunch more tools and loaded them in the truck. The driver’s side window rolled down.
“Hello, Charlie. Sorry I cannot help with café more.”
Charlie could see how sorry he was by the look in his eyes. Charlie had a soft spot for Matt’s dad ever since he had done some work for his mom when the café first opened.
“No worries. We tried, and I sure learned a ton, mostly that there’s a reason people do this for a living.” He tapped the bottom of the window frame. “I really appreciate the tools.”
“I do anything for Miss Donna,” he answered. “I am stuck at job too much. Very sorry. Tell her I am free after Christmas — as much as she need.” He gestured to the back seat. “You kids need lift? Jump in.”
“I’ll call my mom,’ Charlie said. “I have some stuff to load up too. But thanks.”
“I called my dad already,” Julia said. “Thanks.”
Charlie tried to catch Pudge’s eye, but he looked away and got into the truck. Matt hopped into the front passenger seat, and the truck pulled away. Charlie waved and turned to face Julia. He hoped her dad would come soon. He wanted a little time by himself, to take it all in.
Julia interrupted his thoughts. “I think Pudge was kind of upset,” she said.
Pudge had put everything into this. Of course he would be totally bummed out. He would call Pudge tomorrow to make things good again. Pudge sometimes blamed himself for things that were not his fault.
“I guess I’m not too happy either, to be honest,” he said. “But I’ll get over it. I feel bad for my mom. She loved this place.”
“It’s awful what happened.” Julia rocked up on her toes and with a rueful look said, “Um … This is awkward … but I should tell you that I didn’t actually call my dad to pick me up.”
Charlie laughed. “I didn’t call my mom either. I wanted to be here a bit longer. I know I have to deal with reality, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to put it off.”
She grasped her wrist behind her back. “I should’ve realized you’d want to be alone. I’ll call now. Sorry. That was stupid of me.” She pulled out her phone.
He let out a carefree laugh. “Put it away. I’ll walk you home. No biggie. It’s not that cold. I’ve spent enough time here.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind.”
“Seriously. It’s cool.”
She put her phone in her knapsack, took a deep breath and looked at Charlie with an intense expression. “That would be nice — and I wanted to talk to you, anyway.”
“Let me lock up first, and we can talk on the way,” he said.
Charlie went back into the café. A few of his mom’s tools were still scattered about. The broken tiles were piled in the corner. White dust from the drywall coated the floor. He could only shake his head and chuckle, a bunch of kids making a mess. Just like that it was over, as if it had all been a dream, and now he was back in reality. “It’s been nice knowing ya,” he said, giving the empty room a salute; and with a lump in his throat he turned off the lights and locked the door.
They crossed the street and headed toward Julia’s house.
“So what’s up?” Charli
e said. He could tell she was nervous about something.
“Ever since the game against the Hornets, I wanted to finish our conversation. I think I might’ve given you the wrong impression about us going to the movie with Brandon, Nazem and Spencer, and about that party. I only went because Alex begged me — to even out the numbers, if you know what I mean.”
Charlie wasn’t exactly sure. “I didn’t think anything. I mean, you can go, obviously … I mean, you can do what you want. It’s cool. And I think those guys are cool too, and I’m going to make it right with them, let them know I don’t think they’re the second-raters on the team.”
“The Rebels aside, I wanted you to know that, for me anyway, they’re just friends. Nothing more,” Julia said.
They continued in silence, and then Charlie said, “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I was being lame. I shouldn’t have presumed anything was going on — not that it’s any of my business. Anyway … sorry.”
“Charlie Joyce, now you are being lame!” She put a hand on his arm and they stopped, facing each other. She looked sad. “There is only one boy I want to go to a movie or a party with.” Her eyes were a bit misty and she wiped them. “I was trying to work up the courage to ask you to come to the party with me, to go together, and then Alexandra came and blabbed about it, and with everyone there it was too weird.”
They continued walking, and Charlie didn’t know how or when it happened, but by the time they arrived at her house they were holding hands.
“I … um … probably would’ve said yes,” he said, suddenly.
“About what?”
“The party. It would’ve been fun.”
With a mischievous smile she asked, “Do you remember how we met?”
Of course he did. “At the dodge ball game last year. You tricked Jake into throwing the ball at you instead of me. You caught him out — and then got me out, which was a vicious double-cross, by the way.”
“I was only trying to get your attention.”
“You did.”
She slid her hands to his shoulders and, leaning forward, gave him a kiss. “Goodnight, Charlie.”
She waved from her front steps before disappearing inside. Charlie began to dribble a piece of ice along the sidewalk as he walked home. It was really not that warm out. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and picked up the pace. Soon his house came into view. He saw his mom’s silhouette in the living room.