The Ice Chips and the Grizzly Escape

by Roy MacGregor

  At the end of the season last year, Coach Small, Mr. Finnigan, Mayor Abigail Ward, and Quiet Dave the Iceman—the mayor’s father and the rink’s maintenance guy—had called the leaping Chips to the rink for a meeting. They said they’d found out the kids had been hiding some kind of award—one they’d probably stolen. They’d also discovered that an engine part Sebastián Strong—or “Crunch”—had brought to Mr. Finnigan to fix was something the kids had taken from the rink. They swore that they’d given the award back, and that they were only trying to fix part of a machine they’d broken by mistake, but they were still in trouble for their rink shenanigans.

  “Did you come in through the Zamboni door again? I said no more leaping through time,” Quiet Dave had hissed, glaring at them, once the other three adults had walked away. The engine part the kids had broken belonged to Scratch, and Scratch belonged to Dave. Quiet Dave knew what the robot-like machine could do, and he’d already warned them never, ever to use it again. “This is over. It’s too dangerous. Once I have a free weekend, I’m taking Scratch back to my farm.”

  Today, pausing in the entrance of the arena, Lucas was rubbing his lucky quarter and trying to visualize the morning ahead of him, just as Edge always did. He wanted to forget that this weekend would be the end of their adventures. He was imagining stepping onto that clean sheet of ice—his very favourite thing in the world—when Shayna and Nolan walked up to him with their cousin August.

  “You’ve already met Lucas, right?” Shayna asked her cousin.

  August, who had dark straight hair pulled up into a loose bun on the top of her head, smiled.

  “He’s the captain of the Ice Chips—one of our regular-season teams,” Shayna added.

  Lucas didn’t feel like correcting her. At that awful end-of-year meeting, Coach Small had also told him he wanted to give some other players a chance at being captain. Edge didn’t know it yet, but he’d be taking over the C in the fall. Lucas was happy for his best friend, but he wasn’t quite sure where he’d fit on the Ice Chips team.

  “This camp is cool,” August said with a giggle as the group spotted Jack in the lobby, sleeping on top of his own hockey bag. “I’ve never seen ice in the summer.”

  With some help from Shayna, Nolan explained in sign language that August had come from Northern Ontario, where her town was still trying to raise money to build a rink of its own.

  “We skate on the bay in winter, but otherwise, all we’ve got is road hockey,” August said with a smile and a shrug.

  No rink? No money for a rink? Lucas didn’t know what to say to that, so he just smiled sympathetically. Then he leaned in for a drink of water, and Shayna, Nolan, and August continued on toward the dressing room.

  “There you are!” said Swift, sliding in beside Lucas at the fountain. She had her equipment and a goalie stick with her, but not the good stick she used during the Chips’ practices. Swift had stood out so far ahead of the other goalies last season that she’d decided maybe this summer, for the first time in her life, she could slack off a little. She had been a major part of the Chips’ championship win, after all.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Lucas asked as he wiped his mouth on the bottom of his shirt.

  “What do you mean ‘what’s up’?” Swift asked, rolling her eyes. “Edge called me after you talked last night. We got your message. We’re all set for Thursday night’s leap. And this time, we’ve thought of everything.”

  Chapter 4

  Riverton Rink, Thursday

  Can we even leap without our Crunch-onator?

  The thought occurred to Edge while he was hiding his high-end bike in the bushes outside the Riverton Community Arena, waiting for Lucas and Swift to show up with the keys. (Quiet Dave still didn’t know that Swift had stolen the keys from her father’s home office and copied them.)

  Edge’s basketball camp, like the other kids’ hockey camp, was still in Riverton. He slept in his usual bed, ate at the same dinner table, and saw his regular friends in the evenings and on weekends. Crunch, however, was at a crime camp way over in another town, near his grandmother’s house.

  And he had his tablet with him.

  Nervous that the Chips wouldn’t be able to leap without the team’s tech wizard, Edge jumped out of the bushes the moment his friends arrived.

  “Crunch took his tablet!” he blurted. “How will we get Scratch to clean the ice?!”

  Swift, who already had the keys in her hand, looked back at Lucas, her eyes wide. Maybe they hadn’t thought of everything this time. Lucas, who was walking behind her with his rusty bike, stopped in his tracks—just as Mouth Guard roared up behind him on his skateboard. The Chips’ super-charged talker was saying the word “marshmallow” over and over again in different tones.

  “We’ll try the orange button on the remote. Maybe it’ll get Scratch started this time,” said Lucas, looking hopeful. But now he was worried, too. Dave was taking Scratch away this weekend, and this was supposed to be their last leap through time. Their last chance. Their last great adventure!

  Before their leap back to Ottawa in 1892, Crunch had had the terrible idea of “improving” Scratch. He’d taken the small flooding vehicle they’d found hidden away in the Riverton rink and separated him into little pieces. The leaping Ice Chips knew their science geek liked to take things apart, but they never guessed he’d do it to their time machine!

  At first, Crunch’s so-called improvements had meant Scratch couldn’t even move. Then he’d moved backwards across the ice and started spinning. When he was finally able to make proper circles on the ice, though, that perfect sheet had once again stood before the time travellers. The young hockey players had then made their way across the centre line and—poof!—disappeared, just as they had on their other leaps.

  Of course, that was after Crunch had pushed the reset button on his tablet to get Scratch started when the remote wouldn’t work.

  “Let’s hope Crunch fixed that orange button-a-bob on the remote before he left,” Edge said, using one of his made-up words because he was nervous. But Swift was already turning her key in the door.

  “It’s gotta work,” said Swift, determined. “It has to.”

  “Marshmallow,” mumbled Mouth Guard as he let the door close behind him.

  * * *

  Lucas’s back hurt. His shins were bruised. And his arms ached.

  Rolling Scratch out from his hiding place and into the rink had been tough. Edge and Swift had helped, but the little machine was the size of a ride-on lawn-mower and much heavier than anyone had expected. They still didn’t know how he worked or how his floods sent them travelling through time, but at least now he was on the ice!

  Mouth Guard had been busy in the stands, fiddling with Scratch’s remote control. He sometimes went with Crunch to the Fix-it Club meetings at Lucas’s parents’ store, but so far that hadn’t helped him at all.

  “Why did you invite Mouth Guard?” Lucas asked Swift under his breath. He sat down on the bench beside her and opened his bag to take out his skates.

  Ever since the leaping Chips got in trouble after their championship win, Lucas had done his best to avoid his hyperactive linemate. Someone had told on them—someone had said that the leaping Chips were up to something. Edge thought it was Jared who’d blabbed about that silver bowl from the past—the award they’d been hiding. Swift thought Quiet Dave had just figured it out on his own. But Lucas had other ideas.

  “Mouth Guard wouldn’t have said anything,” Swift whispered back, hoping their teammate in the stands couldn’t hear them.

  “We all know he says everything. ALL the time,” Lucas said with his eyebrows scrunched. “Slapper and Lars were asking so many questions. What if our non-stop talker answered them?” He watched out of the corner of his eye as Mouth Guard lifted the remote control, shook it beside his ear, and then tapped it and its orange button on his forehead.

  Swift shrugged and quickly put her strawberry-blond hair back into a ponytail. She was ready to ste
p onto the ice. Even if Scratch wouldn’t move, she could go for a skate and enjoy the cool air in the arena. The kids who’d stayed for the afternoon at hockey camp had gone indoor rock climbing today, but she’d been running around the track in the hot sun all afternoon. There was no way she was putting on her full equipment this evening.

  Lucas had also decided to pack light for this trip. He was in his shorts and a sweatshirt—no shoulder or shin pads—although he’d thrown some emergency supplies into his backpack.

  Edge was nearby re-taping his stick, thinking about the fact that this would be their final leap. He missed this—the rink, the excitement, skating with his friends. But he didn’t dare say that out loud. Lucas had to find his place at hockey camp without Edge, and Edge didn’t want to make that harder.

  In not too long, they’d be back together on the same line. Lucas—the Chips’ “Top Shelf” Captain—would be back in his regular position, joining in at the end of their team cheer, and leading the team on the ice. But this summer? Lucas would have to figure that role out for himself.

  “UGGGGGH! It won’t work. It’s never going to work!” Mouth Guard shouted suddenly, standing and holding the remote control over his head. “No one’s leaping through time tonight!”

  “Shhhh! Not so loud!” Lucas called back sharply as he opened the door in the boards. “Quiet Dave’s meeting with the mayor could end early. You never know who might be—”

  But the Chips’ centre was cut off.

  The doors to the arena had opened.

  And two players wearing Riverton Stars jackets had stepped inside.

  * * *

  “What are you—” Edge and Lucas both started at the same time, their mouths gaping.

  “Crunch sent us.”

  Shayna was smiling as she and her brother, Nolan, made their way over to Lucas, Edge, and Swift at the side of the ice.

  “How did Crunch know we were here?” Lucas whispered to Edge before noticing that Nolan was watching him.

  Nolan said something to his sister in sign language, and Shayna translated. “Nolan wants to remind you that he can read your lips,” she said with an even bigger smile.

  Lip-reading was just one of the deaf athlete’s amazing skills. Nolan was tough and a good hockey player, but he could also read body language better than anyone else. He could guess what other players had planned. And he could stickhandle while watching both the ice and the reflection in the glass to see what was happening behind him. Superhero skills, really. It was too bad he and his sister played for the Chips’ rivals!

  The Stars’ defender continued their story, with Shayna translating whenever the Ice Chips didn’t know the signs.

  “Nolan’s the one who told Crunch you were here,” Shayna said, watching her brother’s hands and facial expressions. “Lucas! He read your lips when you were at the water fountain, talking to Swift about sneaking into the rink at night. You said you were going to leap or something? What is that—a leap? Some kind of drill?”

  “Yeah. Uh, we always start with a . . . leaping drill,” Lucas answered nervously. “Jump over a stick, jump over a puck, jump over a player . . .”

  “Crunch and Nolan talk all the time because they play some silly game together online,” Shayna added on her own. “Even while Crunch is living at his grandmother’s house. Crunch plays on his tablet and Nolan plays on his phone. They’re pretty boring.”

  The Chips already knew Nolan had a phone. They’d seen him use it before to make video calls where he’d sign to his parents or other deaf hockey players he knew. When Shayna wasn’t around to translate, he also used it to type for people who didn’t understand sign language. Many of the Chips and Stars were still learning.

  “Okay, fine. You told Crunch,” said Swift. “But why are you here? Not to be rude.” Crunch would have told them to stay away from the rink, wouldn’t he? She wondered. Is Crunch the leak?

  “What exactical-ifically did Crunch tell you?” asked Edge, now wondering the same thing.

  “Nothing,” Nolan said by making his hands into the shape of two zeros.

  “But he told you to come here?” asked Lucas, confused. If the Atlookan siblings knew what the Chips were up to, did that mean the Blitz twins soon would, too?

  “Lucas is the one who told us you were breaking in, remember?” said Shayna, crossing her arms. “You mean you don’t want us here?”

  “We, uh . . .” said Lucas.

  “It’s not that . . .” started Swift.

  “I’m joking,” said Shayna. “You can keep your secrets. Crunch just asked us to come here for this.”

  She was pointing her thumb at Nolan, who had typed something into his phone and was now turning it around to show them. It had a light blue screen, the same colour as Scratch, and right in the middle of that screen was a picture of a bright orange button.

  With the word “reset” on it.

  * * *

  “Someone is going to have to stay behind. To be our Crunch—to make sure it all goes smoothly,” Edge said reluctantly, leaning in to huddle with his teammates. Nolan and Shayna were over near the Zamboni chute, giggling as they watched Scratch clean the ice.

  “Are you volunteering?” Swift asked with her eyebrows raised.

  “Well, we do trust Edge,” said Lucas, still with his eyes on Mouth Guard, who wouldn’t stop jiggling a board on a broken bench.

  “What do we do with Shayna and Nolan, then?” asked Edge. “Do we ask them to leave so they don’t see what we’re about to do?”

  “If Crunch trusts them, I trust them,” said Swift. “They helped us get the cup back after our last leap, don’t forget.”

  “Yeah, but—” started Lucas.

  “What if we take them with us?” Mouth Guard asked loudly. He’d given up on the bench and was now flipping his stick back and forth on the ground, like Jack had been doing in practice—only without a puck. Or the skill.

  “What do you mean, Mouth-ometer?” asked Edge. “Take them where?”

  “On the leap—one of them, at least,” said Mouth Guard with another flick of his stick.

  Lucas was now watching Shayna and Nolan, who didn’t understand what the Chips had planned and had begun dragging a net out onto Scratch’s perfect flood.

  “That could work,” said Lucas, not sure if it would. “If we take one of them, it’s not like they’ll tell on us after, right?”

  “Nolan stays with me,” Edge said firmly, suddenly getting it. “If something goes wrong, I’ll need him and his phone. He can be the fix-it guy. I’ll be the boss.”

  “Perfect,” said Swift.

  With a giant grin on her face, she quickly waved Shayna over.

  Chapter 5

  “Does it hurt to leap through time?”

  Shayna looked more scared than excited, but she had already agreed to go on this adventure. Of course, none of the kids who were leaping had any idea where they were headed.

  “Hurt? Not exactly,” said Swift, hooking her arm around Lucas’s and making a face. “Sometimes there’s a bright light. Sometimes a noise.”

  “And sometimes we fall in the water,” added Lucas, laughing at himself for falling in on two separate leaps—once off a boat and once through the ice.

  The plan right now was for Lucas, Edge, and Swift to skate up to the red centre line. Next, Shayna—who hadn’t brought her equipment—would come running in behind them in her shoes, grabbing their hands as they all made their way across the centre line and through the wormhole opened by Scratch’s flood.

  “We’d better go fast,” said Lucas, who was always worried about Quiet Dave. “Keep your eyes on us,” he called out to Edge. “And thanks again for the light!” He looked at Nolan and made the sign for a flashlight.

  When Lucas was packing his emergency supplies for the trip, he’d remembered everything but his flashlight. He’d asked if any of the other kids had one, and Nolan was the one who’d nodded yes. The defenceman’s “flashlight,” it turned out, was actually his own
project from the Fix-it Club. It was an invention. A very bright invention, shaped like a hockey puck.

  Nolan said he got the idea from watching videos of the Deaflympics hockey games held in Italy in 2019. Since the deaf hockey players couldn’t hear the whistles and buzzers, the host country had put lights on poles around the rink. Those lights flashed when a goal was scored or the play was stopped, helping everyone stay in the game.

  For now, Nolan’s puck only lit up with a red glow so he could use it for games on the outdoor rink after dinner, when it was too dark to sign and the puck was hard to see. He said a Danish girls’ hockey team had once done something similar so they could play in the dark. Nolan hoped that one day he’d be able to link his puck to the arena scoreboard so he could have different coloured lights go off for penalties and goals, but that would take some more research.

  “Are you ready? This should be fun,” Swift said, smiling at Shayna and trying to look confident. Last time, Scratch had stuttered while cleaning the ice, and there’d been glitches. The Chips had leaped . . . and then leaped again and again to different places and times, as though they were flipping through shows on an old TV. Hopefully, Crunch had fixed those problems before leaving for crime camp.

  “Ready? Are you kidding me? I can’t wait!” said Shayna, a sparkle of adventure now twinkling in her eye.

  The moment the leaping kids crossed the centre line, the light around the rink seemed to bend. Shayna felt like they were looking through the lens of a goalie butt-cam.

  The rink was warping. The boards were bending and curving.

  The light was growing brighter.

  And there was a sound. A bending sound, like a metal spring being stretched. A twisting sound. The groan of a building.

  And then, the rink was gone.

  * * *

  It took several seconds for the travelling hockey players to realize that they had appeared at another rink—an old rink. And that they they’d fallen, piled on top of one another, into the corner of a stinky, old-fashioned dressing room.