The Ice Chips and the Grizzly Escape

by Roy MacGregor

  He stood there as if waiting for something important.

  When Lucas finished, he spit out his toothpaste and reached for a glass, filling it with cool water and taking a long drink.

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Sam all but screeched in his high voice.

  “Huh?” Lucas replied, swallowing the water hard. “What do you mean?”

  “Why are you drinking straight out of the tap at your house?” Sam said, not believing what he had just seen.

  Lucas giggled, thinking it must just be Sam’s sense of humour. “Good one!” he said.

  “You don’t boil it first?”

  “Brush my teeth with hot water?”

  “No—boil it to clean it.”

  Lucas looked oddly at his guest. “Wha—?! It comes out clean.”

  “You just turn on the water at your house and you can drink it?” Sam said, blinking. “We have to boil ours first, then let it cool. Only the rink and the school have water you can drink straight out of the tap.”

  “How long has that been going on?”

  “For as long as I can remember.”

  Chapter 13

  The kids and parents from the Stars, the Ice Chips, and the Bears had almost finished setting up chairs around one of the two hockey zones they’d created when the guests started to arrive at the outdoor tournament.

  Three families were already seated around Rink A, right in front of the boards, when Lucas unfolded the twenty-fifth chair he and his friends had brought out. That’s when Mouth Guard, in a very exaggerated way, tapped him on the shoulder.

  “We’re going to need some more of those,” he said, pointing to the area of the parking lot where the tickets were being sold.

  Lucas blinked and moved forward, half tripping over the chair he’d just placed down. There was no way any of them had imagined this turnout when they were sitting around the cafe table in the Whatsit Shop a few weeks earlier.

  “When Slapper and I were looking for a trophy,” said Mouth Guard, his eyes growing wide, “we thought we were looking for something for a small tournament.”

  That day in the Whatsit Shop, Mouth Guard had presented Slapper with a plastic dinosaur and a set of old silver wedding glasses. Slapper had said no to both. The big defender had searched through a few more bins, and then he’d asked, once again, why some of the Chips had broken into the Riverton Community Arena at the end of last season. Slowly, Mouth Guard had backed away to search in another aisle. He couldn’t risk letting the time-leaping kids’ secret slip out. And he didn’t want to make Lucas mad at him again.

  In the end, they hadn’t chosen any of the objects they’d found. Unfortunately, that meant there was still no trophy for the tournament.

  The kids couldn’t believe that their ticket lineup now went around the corner, and every minute, more and more spectators seemed to be arriving—people Lucas recognized from Riverton, and others he’d never seen before in his life.

  “Look at the cars!” Bond said, in shock. One after another, vehicles were snaking their way down Centre Street and turning into the Blitz Sports Complex’s parking lot.

  Mouth Guard looked over at Shayna, August, and Nolan, the bosses on this project, who were staring down at a clipboard and making sure that all their planning was going well. They need to see this, too, he thought. Quickly, he turned both of his hands into scoops and cupped them together with his thumbs in front. Then he blew . . .

  WHO-UUUUH-UHH-UUH-UUH-OOOooo!

  WUHHHHH-OOO-OOO-OOooo!

  On hearing the loon call, Shayna and August lifted and turned their heads, just in time to see what else was rounding the corner into the parking lot: two chip wagons, a lemonade stand, and having made their way on foot from the Riverton District High School, a fully dressed marching band! When Nolan looked up a second later, his mouth dropped open.

  “Yep, this is going to be waaaay bigger than we expected,” said Lucas, eyeing the number of seats they now had around the two parking lot “rinks” that the coaches and parents had created with portable boards and nets.

  “Wow, isn’t this just the best news?!” asked Beatrice. She’d just walked up blowing a bubble with her gum.

  From a few feet away, Nolan looked at her suspiciously. He also looked disappointed—when Beatrice was chewing gum, he could no longer read her lips. She was carrying one end of a basketball bench and Jared had the other; they’d taken it from one of the Blitz’s gyms.

  “If anyone deserves a rink,” she said earnestly, pointing at August and her cousins, “it’s these guys. They’re amazing.”

  Mouth Guard and Lucas both looked at the normally mean and horrible centre of the Riverton Stars and then at each other, confused.

  Neither of them said a word.

  * * *

  A few days earlier, when the kids from the three hockey teams and the camp were helping their parents set up boards around the two rinks, a television reporter had come out with her camera operator to get some shots of the parking lot’s transformation.

  The reporter was excited that two novice teams from Riverton, a small town with two good rinks, were helping a northern village where the kids had no rink at all. She’d done interviews with Shayna, Nolan, and August about the village. And then she’d asked them how they’d convinced Riverton’s two rival teams to work together to make this tournament happen.

  “Oh, and who do you think will win the tournament? Any bets?” the reporter asked the kids.

  Nolan signed back for the camera, and Shayna translated into the microphone with a smile: “No one is better at ball hockey than a group of players who’ve never had an ice rink of their own.”

  August, who was leaning on a hockey stick that she’d just re-taped red like Shayna’s, blushed. Wouldn’t that be great? she thought. She was proud of what her village had done so far to raise money back home, with bingo games, craft sales, and fifty-fifty draws. She was also excited about this tournament she and her cousins had planned. Imagine if our Bears were able to take a trophy home! She didn’t dare say her wish out loud.

  In her First Nation territory, the kids skated on the river or the bay when the ice was thick enough for it to be safe—that’s all they had. And even that was sometimes difficult because of blowing snow and cracking ice. One thing they could do year-round was play ball hockey. No ice required. Dry road, wet road, snow-covered road—they could always play.

  And they could dream.

  One of the biggest obstacles to getting an arena for their village was the fact that it was so remote. There weren’t many other teams around—even just for games. The Bears had to take a boat or floatplane to get anywhere, making any kind of tournament unthinkable.

  Until today.

  August knew that she wasn’t the greatest skater, but she had quick hands and was as good as any of the Riverton kids at plucking the puck away from another player. She’d done well in the morning keep-away sessions at camp. And she could also ping the puck off the crossbar and into the net better than a lot of the skaters at camp.

  The Riverton Ball Hockey Tournament was a great opportunity for her village’s fundraising efforts, but it would also be the Bears’ first real chance to compete.

  * * *

  Lucas, Mouth Guard, and Bond couldn’t believe their eyes as they watched the spectators roll in for what was supposed to be a small fundraiser.

  They knew that interest had been growing. After the television interview aired, a few newspapers had come calling. And then a sports channel had sent a crew over to do more interviews—with the Atlookan cousins, but also with Edge, Slapper, and Jared Blitz. More and more teams had signed up to play, and a few local businesses had donated items for the auction.

  But this?!

  “You’re never going to believe what I just heard,” said Slapper, running up to the group. Lucas pointed to the crowd that was gathering, and Slapper nodded quickly and said, “Yeah, I know, but that’s not it.”

  “You found a trophy?” asked Mouth Guard, exc
ited. He’d realized that there was no way they could now give away some used silverware or a toy from an old sandbox.

  “Better,” said Slapper, breathing heavily. “Somebody called the car company that runs the Hockey Heart Cup, and they’re sending someone out to watch our tournament!”

  Chapter 14

  Right after Slapper had announced his update about the Hockey Heart Cup—a trophy that was awarded each year, along with a large sum of money—Swift had come outside with her own big scoop.

  “Uh, guys? You’d better come look in the arena.”

  Her face was so pale that her friends thought the Blitz Sports Complex had caught fire or something equally catastrophic had happened.

  The one thing they were right about was that the goalie’s news was HUGE.

  Inside the complex, the three hockey teams had set up a silent auction with the help of Mrs. Finnigan and Mayor Ward. The items for the auction had been donated by people in Riverton, but also from far beyond the town.

  “Did you hear that someone from the Hockey Heart Cup is coming?” Lucas asked, still overwhelmed, as the players followed Swift inside.

  The Chips’ goalie nodded. She took Bond’s arm in hers as though she needed to steady herself.

  The Hockey Heart Cup was an award Lucas had never even dreamed the Ice Chips might have a chance at winning. Each year, it was given to a novice U9 team that had done something amazing and caring in its community. Previous winners had raised money for injured players, restocked a struggling food bank, and in one case, helped clean up a small town along the Ottawa River that had been hit hard by floods.

  The team that won got a big chunk of money to donate to a good cause of their choosing. Of course, all the Chips and Stars already knew what that would be: the arena in August’s village. The village had been doing okay with its own fundraising efforts and this tournament would help, but the money that went with the Hockey Heart Cup would blow the roof right off the arena—or at least put one on it.

  Swift led the way to an empty wedding reception room where the silent auction was being held. Volunteers had placed each auction item on a table with a clipboard, a pen, and a piece of lined paper beside it. People could write their names down and say how much they’d bid for each treasure, and the highest bid at the end of the day would be declared the winner.

  “Do you remember when we were telling Nolan about the leap—right when we got back home?” Swift asked as she walked Bond, Lucas, and Mouth Guard past the nets and other hockey equipment on display.

  “You mean when he didn’t believe us?” asked Mouth Guard. “Or when he found Lucas’s fish hilarious? Or when he saw that eagle feather you—”

  “He believed us about the leap,” said Swift. “And he had an idea about who we might have met. But first, I had to make sure I was right.” She hadn’t wanted to tell any of her friends who she thought they’d met—not until she’d had a chance to look the player up on her family’s computer. Swift had checked it that night, but by the next day, the tournament idea had already come up. After that, the leaping kids had been too busy to hear her theories. Or curious Slapper and Beatrice Blitz had been nearby. There was no way Swift would chance getting in trouble again for leaping.

  “We play at ten o’clock,” said Bond, checking the time on her comm-band. “That’s soon. And we’ve got some kind of special warm-up before that. Can’t we look at this after our first game?”

  “Absolutely not,” said Swift, pulling her along more quickly.

  Swift marched her friends past several framed and signed photographs of famous players—Alexander Ovechkin, Willie O’Ree, Connor McDavid, Marie-Philip Poulin, Alexis Lafrenière, and Brigette Lacquette, the first First Nations hockey player to make Canada’s women’s Olympic team. They walked by T-shirts, jackets, and hockey bags with team logos on them, then past two sets of golf passes, some dinner coupons displayed in a fan, and even a shiny new cedar canoe.

  “This!” Swift declared, suddenly stopping at the last table and putting her hands on her hips. She was standing in front of the prize of the day. It was covered in glass so no one could touch.

  The others gasped.

  They stared.

  The object was glossy, smooth, and painted red and white with a little blue. It was the most beautiful work of art any of them had ever seen.

  It was a mask—a goalie mask.

  And it was signed.

  Carey Price.

  “Now take a good look at that mask,” said Swift, her voice hinting at tears, “because there’s something I’ve been dying to tell you.”

  * * *

  At first, Bond, Mouth Guard, and Lucas didn’t believe Swift when she told them that Carey Price was the young goalie they’d met in Anahim Lake. Lucas was still sure they’d leaped through time to meet Manon Rhéaume; Mouth Guard thought it was Jacques Plante. And Bond didn’t have a clue, since she wasn’t there for that trip.

  “But Suchai didn’t live anywhere near a high-level team,” Lucas protested. “Even playing on a minor team was so much work for him and his family. I thought he might quit hockey and just do rodeo competitions when he grew up.”

  “Well,” said Swift, glowing, “have a look at the collage of photos your mom made to go along with the helmet bidding.”

  The photos Mrs. Finnigan had chosen made Lucas clap his hand over his mouth in disbelief. There were a few expected ones: Carey Price reaching out from the crease of his Montreal Canadiens net for a poke check; Carey in the Canadiens’ dressing room, carefully taping his stick. But there were also these: Carey as a teenager, fishing out of an aluminum boat with his father, Jerry; Carey riding on a horse as a kid, and then again as an adult; and Carey standing with his mom, wearing a gold medal around his neck.

  “Look closely at the dressing-room photo,” said Swift. In it, Carey Price was wearing a shirt with cut-off sleeves, and a tattoo was showing on his arm. The image was of a mama bear and her baby bears wandering near the water at the foot of Anahim Peak. It wasn’t the same bear they’d seen together, but it was the same place, the same paradise.

  “Amazing,” said Mouth Guard, clearly impressed.

  “And he still does rodeo!” cried Lucas, pointing at a photo of Carey on a galloping horse with a rope clutched at his side and a silver feather in his black cowboy hat.

  “That’s what Carey Price does in the off-season, over the summer.”

  It was the voice of Mayor Ward, who’d just walked up to tell the kids that Coach Small was looking for them. They’d better get the rest of their gear on, she said, because their game against the Guelph Gravel was starting in an hour! And they still had to fit in the special warm-up—the one planned by the mayor and Coach Blitz—before that could even begin.

  “Remember, we’re going to get all the teams out for a little free-for-all to start off the day,” said the mayor. “We’ll throw in a few balls and let you guys pass them around a bit, and then we’ll introduce the teams. You can’t miss it—the Chips, the Stars . . . everyone’s got to be there.”

  “Okay, okay,” said Mouth Guard. “But first tell us, which Olympics is that?” He was pointing at the gold-medal photo of a grown-up Carey Price standing next to his mother.

  “That’s from the Olympics in Sochi, Russia, in 2014,” said Mayor Ward. “Carey Price played well. He was named the best goalie for that entire competition.”

  “The best of the best,” said Swift, beaming.

  * * *

  Lucas was trying to tape his stick in one of the dressing rooms at the Blitz Sports Complex, but he couldn’t stop shaking his head. How did I NOT I know that was Carey Price? Why didn’t I guess? He’d been so impressed with the kid from Anahim Lake’s fishing and rodeo skills that he’d almost forgotten he was a hockey player, too!

  “Everyone ready for our warm-up?” Coach Small asked as he walked into the dressing room with a list in his hand. The Chips’ coach was also excited about this tournament. His players would present themselves at Ri
nk A, along with the rest of today’s ball hockey teams, and then they’d move straight into their game against the Guelph Gravel in Rink B.

  Most of the Ice Chips were already dressed—in shorts and big socks to cover their shin pads—but Edge was nowhere to be seen. It was a weekend, so there was no basketball camp. He was supposed to be here. But where is he?

  Technically, Lucas was still the captain of the Ice Chips. He didn’t know where he’d fit next season, which made it hard for him to feel confident, but he still felt he should say something before the game.

  He stood, ready to speak, with no idea what he should say. The team cheer that Edge normally leads? Something inspiring? Something a guy like Carey Price would say?

  Lucas had just opened his mouth—he really, really wanted to tell everyone how afraid he was to compete without his best friend on his line—when the door to the dressing room swung open.

  “Greetings, my old teammater-taters! Who’s ready for some ball hockey?!”

  It was Edge, dressed for the game.

  And he’d brought a handful of friends from his basketball camp with him. They were behind him in the hall, talking to August and Nolan.

  “Awesome, awesome. Great idea! Thank you,” August was saying with a huge grin on her face.

  * * *

  As the competing hockey teams ran around Rink A for the warm-up—really just an introduction and a quick jog around the “rink”—Lucas mumbled Coach Small’s starting lineup to himself: Swift on goal; Bond and Slapper on D; Mouth Guard, Lucas, and Edge up front.

  He loved that last bit. Lucas and Edge were back together. Finally. This might not be ice hockey, but it was close enough.

  “We can still kick your butts on a clean sheet of parking lot,” said Beatrice, smiling, as she ran up behind Lucas and Edge and scooped away their orange ball.

  Normally Lucas would have tried to think of something funny or mean to say in return, but this time he didn’t. Edge was back. This was a perfect day. And their team was about to be introduced.