Authors: Sigmund Brouwer
illustrations by Dean Griffiths
Text copyright Â© 2006 Sigmund Brouwer
Cover and interior illustrations copyright Â© 2006 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 chase / Sigmund Brouwer; illustrations by Dean Griffiths.
(Howling Timberwolves series)
I. Title. II. Series. III. Series: Brouwer, Sigmund, 1959-.
Howling Timberwolves series.
PS8553.R68467T543 2006 Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â jC813'.54 Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â C2006-903012-X
Library of Congress Control Number:
Hockey action and humor that will appeal to young readers.
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.
Design and typesetting by Doug McCaffry
Cover and interior illustrations by Dean Griffiths
Orca Book Publishers Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Orca Book Publishers
PO Box 5626, Stn. B Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â PO Box 468
Victoria, BC Canada Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Custer, WA USA
V8R 6S4 Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 98240-0468
Printed and bound in Canada.
Printed on recycled paper, 60% PCW.
09 08 07 06 â¢ 4 3 2 1
To Sylvie Tarnowsky and her beloved JerryâD.G.
Johnny Maverick thought he saw something move inside his hockey bag. Things in hockey bags should not move, he told himself.
Johnny was in the dressing room with the rest of the players on the Howling Timberwolves hockey team. It was the first practice of the year. His hockey bag was open on the floor in front of him. He was ready to put on his equipment for the practice.
But something in the bag had moved.
He leaned forward to look inside the bag. He pulled out a hockey glove. Something fell from the inside of the glove. It landed in the bag and disappeared.
“I hope I'm wrong,” he said to himself. “I hope I didn't just see aâ”
“Johnny!” Coach Smith said to him. “Are you listening?”
“Um, no,” Johnny said. He was worried about his hockey bag. He looked in it again.
“Please,” Coach Smith said, “look at me when I talk.”
Johnny looked up. Everyone on the team was staring at him. Twelve players. All of them lived in or near a town called Howling. It was a small town. There were not a lot of hockey players for this team. They needed everybody they could get.
“Coach,” Johnny said. “My mom made me keep my hockey equipment in the storage shed all summer. She thinks hockey equipment smells bad.”
“She's right,” Coach Smith said.
“That means I might have a problem,” Johnny said. He looked back into the bag. He hoped the thing in the bag wasn't what he thought it was.
“The problem is you weren't listening,” Coach Smith told Johnny. “Look at me when I'm talking. Please. I don't want to say it again.”
“No buts,” Coach Smith said. “I'm the coach and I need to talk to the whole team.”
“Not another word, Johnny. Please. You know I like you very much. But I would like to go just one hockey season without any trouble from you.”
Johnny didn't say anything else. Even when he thought he heard something move in his hockey bag. But he was afraid to look down. Coach Smith didn't like it if he thought a player wasn't listening.
Coach Smith spoke to everybody. “We have a new player this year. His name is Tom Morgan.”
Coach Smith pointed at a boy in the corner. The boy had brown hair and brown eyes. He wasn't smiling.
“Tom and his parents have just moved here from Toronto,” Coach Smith said. “I hope you make him feel welcome.”
Johnny felt something on the top of his foot. That made him look down.
He saw a mouse.
Yes, it was a mouse. A big fat mouse. From inside his hockey bag. The hockey bag that had been in the storage shed all summer.
The mouse stared at Johnny. Johnny stared back. Then the mouse tried to crawl up Johnny's pants.
He kicked his foot straight up.
The mouse flew high into the air.
“Johnny!” Coach Smith said in an angry voice.
Johnny was watching the mouse. He saw where it was going to land.
“Coach!” Johnny yelled.
But it was too late.
The mouse landed on Coach Smith's head.
Coach Smith frowned. He didn't know what had landed on his head.
But Johnny did.
Johnny wanted to help Coach Smith. He grabbed his hockey glove. Coach Smith was short, and Johnny knew he could reach the mouse on top of his head.
Johnny swung the glove at the mouse.
He missed the mouse.
But he didn't miss Coach Smith's head. He hit Coach Smith in the head with the hockey glove.
Something hairy landed on the floor.
Johnny yelled again. He wondered if he had knocked off Coach Smith's head. But right away Johnny saw that it wasn't Coach Smith's head. It was Coach Smith's hair.
Coach Smith wore a wig?
Johnny never knew that.
He did now. So did the rest of the team.
Coach Smith's face turned red. It always did that when he was going to yell at Johnny.
“Are you crazy?” Coach Smith said. “Why did you hit me on theâ”