Undergrounders (12 page)

But the refs didn’t call it, and lucky for me because I finally had the puck without that centre all over me. I spun around in the corner and headed up ice. Derrick cut across the blue line. I held onto it. There was time for me to take one more rush. No point passing.

I got across centre and raced in on their defence.
Like a doofus one of them tried to hit me at the blue line. I dangled him and bounced outside easy enough. It was a two-on-one with Derrick on my right, yelling for a pass. That bugged me. I do all the work and he wants the glory. So I faked it, and let a shot rip for the top corner on the goalie’s glove hand. The goalie dropped into his butterfly and got his glove on it. Maybe I should have passed.

But the hockey gods were on my side. The goalie muffed it. The puck nicked the top of his glove and rolled in. The next second I was sliding into the boards face first. That moron centre drilled me after I scored.

Rasheed pulled me to my feet. “You’re off the freakin’ hook, dude. We kill this thirty seconds and we’re into the playoffs.”

I tapped his shin pads. “Goalie’s a total loser. Can’t believe he let that in.”

Collin came over and gave me a tap on the helmet with his glove. “I knew you’d score. Never any doubt.”

I took my time skating over to the bench to enjoy the moment. The guys were acting real calm about it. I figured they’d be more hyped, but it made sense when I thought about it because there was still time on the clock. So I stayed low-key too. Near the bench Derrick came over and said to me, “Why didn’t you pass? I had an open net.”

The guy was so lame. “I scored. What’s your problem?”

“Forget it,” he said.

That killed the fun a bit. I guess I probably should
have passed. The goal was lucky and Derrick would have scored for sure. I admit I was getting a bit worried about what the other guys thought about me. I knew Rasheed and Collin were buds. The others were nice enough, although I once heard Derrick call me The Hog. Maybe I deserved it. Malcolm was constantly giving me a hard time about passing.

A few parents were yelling from the stands.

“Keep it out of our end, Rangers.”

“Play it safe.”

The whistle blew. “Nationals timeout,” the ref said.

I reached over the boards and grabbed a water bottle, and we crowded around our coaches. “This is where we want to be,” Lou said. “They’re going to pull their goalie, so let’s keep the puck in their end. And no icing. We don’t want faceoffs in our zone. Wingers play it absolutely safe. Off the boards and out. Defencemen, put it off the glass if you have to. No soft clearances at our blue line.” He pointed at me. “Jacob, take over for Jonny at centre. Change it up.”

I was in shock. I’d just scored the goal to put us in the playoffs and he was taking me off for Jacob. I pushed the door so hard it made a big crash, and sat down, leaning against the wall.

Malcolm leaned over me. “I’ve been talking to you about passing. Derrick was wide open there. I’m glad you scored, but you got lucky. The smart play was the pass. The defenceman and the goalie were playing you all the way.”

I knew he was right, but I was so angry about
getting taken off … well … I lost it a bit. “If I score ten goals you still diss me. That’s all you ever do, and it’s getting real lame.”

A hard look came into his eyes. “That’s not how we talk to a coach on this team. I’m trying …” He took a breath. “I’m trying to teach you about hockey, about teamwork.”

A huge roar interrupted him. He and I looked up at the same time. Peter was chasing a guy who had a clear breakaway. I couldn’t believe it.

Real close to the net the guy made a move to his backhand and Andrew slid across in a butterfly; only too much, and when the guy switched the puck to his forehand, he had an easy shot to the glove side.

So the moron rings it right off the post. I swear. He missed it. I started laughing like a maniac it was that bizarre. Peter slapped the rebound to the corner and Rasheed did the rest, skating the puck to centre and dumping it in. The buzzer rang to end the game before the Nationals could even get the puck out of their zone.

The Rangers had made the playoffs.

All the guys jumped the boards and charged Andrew in net. I gave Malcolm a look when I left, as if to say, that’s what happens when you take me off.

“Great game,” I said to Derrick. I figured I should try to make it up to him for not passing.

He obviously didn’t hear because he went over and began pounding Rasheed and Collin on the helmets.

“Way to hold the fort, Andrew,” I said to our goalie.

He mumbled, “Thanks,” and skated over to Jacob and Peter.

“On to the playoffs,” I said to Rasheed. Derrick shrugged and joined Jacob and Peter.

“You were on fire again,” Collin said, kind of mellow this time.

“What happened at the end? Did Peter give the puck away?” I said. I still could not believe Lou had taken me off. Rasheed looked away and Collin tapped his stick on the ice a few times.

“I didn’t see what happened. Malcolm was ragging on me at the bench,” I said.

“I guess we didn’t need that last breakaway. But we’re in the playoffs,” Rasheed said.

“Let’s line up, Rangers,” Peter said.

I joined the end of the line and began shaking hands
with the Nationals. About halfway I noticed I was getting close to that centre who’d shadowed me. I braced myself for anything, even a punch.

“Great game,” he said to me. “Good luck in the playoffs.”

He moved on before I could say anything. That was weird. I thought he hated me. This entire game was weird, and it continued in the dressing room. I figured everyone would be going nuts, but it was real quiet, and the guys were just getting undressed. Lou usually came in right away and spoke to us, but not this time.

I was an expert at listening to people talk without them knowing I could hear. That’s how I heard the gossip lining up for the washroom in the morning, or figured out was going on in Executive Alley. So when I saw Peter, Derrick, and Andrew speaking quietly to each other I decided to listen in. I opened my bag and bent forward pretending to be looking for something.

“Stink Bomb’s such a puck hog. I know he can put the puck in the net, but he could pass once in a while,” Peter said.

Is that what they called me? Puck Hog was one thing — but Stink Bomb? Did I smell that bad? Really?

“Try playing on his line,” Derrick said. “He couldn’t care less about this team. Malcolm talks to him every game and he still never passes.”

“The team was more fun when we were losing,” Andrew said.

“So what if he can score. I’d score too if I never passed,” Derrick said next.

I began to untie my skates, all the while listening intently.

“My dad’s talking to Lou right now,” Derrick continued. “He’s so mad, he wants him off the team.”

“And he didn’t even pay. That’s what my dad says,” Peter added.

“Ever seen a guy wear the same clothes every day of his life? No wonder he smells,” Andrew started laughing.

“Try sitting next to him on the bench,” Derrick said.

“No thanks,” Andrew said, laughing harder.

“Collin told me Rasheed plugs his nose when he gets into their van,” Peter said. All three were laughing now.

Rasheed actually did that? What did Alisha think of me?

“He lives in a nice house, I think. Rasheed’s seen it. But it’s weird. Is he poor or something? If his family doesn’t have the money, okay. But I don’t think it’s right that he gets a free ride just because he can score,” Peter said.

“And the guy has Graf skates. I mean — come on,” Andrew said.

“I know Rasheed’s dad is tired of having to drive him all the time,” Derrick said.

“Rasheed and his dad are too nice to say anything,” Andrew said.

“It was his idea to get Stink Bomb on the team. He should be the one to suffer,” Derrick said, and they
laughed.

I stopped listening, and I ripped my equipment off. So they called me Stink Bomb, did they! Bunch of stupid Reggies, I thought. Idiots. I’m done with the Rangers. I’m taking my skates, gloves and stick, and I’m out of here. I tied the skate laces together and threw the skates over my shoulder. One of the skates banged into my ribs and it hurt, but I was way too mad to care.

I went over to the door to grab my stick. Someone’s stick was crossed over mine, so I pulled on it real hard and all the sticks fell to the ground. A few bounced off a garbage can and made a huge racket, like someone drumming.

“Smooth, Einstein,” Derrick wisecracked.

I kicked the sticks to the side and one hit Andrew on the leg.

“Watch it. What are you doing?” he said, his face all screwed up tight.

“You’re all such a bunch of losers, I can’t believe it!” I screamed at him.

His face turned beet red.

“You think you’re so smart? I know everything. Only reason I stuck around was I felt sorry for you losing every game. You want me off the team — fine. This team is a joke — a total joke — and I don’t need to waste my time.”

I pointed at Rasheed. “You don’t have to plug your nose anymore.” Then I pointed at Derrick. “You want me to pass the puck? Well, it’s your puck now. You score since you’re so great.”

I spit on Derrick’s bag, I was so insanely mad, and flung the door open and left. Lou and Malcolm were talking to some parents off to the side, including Rick and Derrick’s father.

“Hey there, Jonny,” Lou said, all friendly. “That was some effort tonight. Can I just have a quick word with you before you go to talk about …”

Like I was going to have a nice chat. “I left your smelly equipment in the smelly dressing room, so get off my back.”

Lou’s eyebrows got all tight together. “Why are you yelling at me? I only want to discuss …”

“I know what you wanna say. You think I smell. Well, you’re fat and stupid and ugly … and stupid. I’m done with this team and I can’t believe I bothered playing.”

“Jonathon, you need to calm down,” Rick said.

“You need to shut up!” I yelled back. “I know you’re all mad that I didn’t pay. But I ain’t gonna. Here’s two bucks, and get Rasheed’s skates sharpened ’cause he can’t skate for nothing.” I threw the money at Rick and hit him right in the chest. I watched the coin spin around and around on the ground until it toppled and stopped.

Only then did I notice everyone staring at me, all the Rangers’ parents and strangers too. Rasheed and Collin stood in front of the dressing room door, in their hockey pants and shin pads, their mouths wide open. I knew I had to leave or I’d start to bawl, and I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction.

Soon I was outside, running through the parking lot toward the street. I remembered turning right when we got here, so I went left to get to the main street. That’s when I heard my name called over and over. It was Alisha. I stopped and turned around. She was the one person who always treated me well. At least I could say goodbye to her.

“Jonathon, where are you going? How are you getting home?”

“I called my uncle,” I lied. “He’s coming to get me.”

Rick came up behind her. “We don’t deserve this type of treatment,” he said. I could see he was steaming mad. “I’ve given you a lift to every game and practice.”

“You’re like the rest,” I sneered back. “You can’t fool me. I saw you talking with Derrick’s dad. You all want me off the team.” I stomped my foot. “You don’t like my smell … well … I don’t like you, or Rasheed, or the Rangers … or Alisha.”

“I hate you all — stupid Reggies!”

Rick looked all serious at me. “I’ll wait until your uncle arrives. But I don’t understand where you got this idea anyone wanted you off the team. No one does. I can tell you that.”

It didn’t matter. There was no going back anyway. And besides, Reggies always lie. You can’t trust them. Lewis told me that, and I’d seen it with my own eyes a million times. They promise you some money and then never give it, or they snatch you from the streets and put you in juvie. “I don’t need your help. My uncle will
meet me at the corner. I called him on my cell phone.”

I wanted to say more only the words wouldn’t come out, so I turned and left. Playing hockey with a bunch of Reggies was plain dumb of me. So hockey was done. Fine! Big deal.

Stink Bomb!

Stupid Reggies!

The sun was down and it was getting real cold. I hopped off the sidewalk to go down the hill to the Underground. My head was still dizzy and I couldn’t think straight, and I’d had to buy a subway ticket, which was money I really did not want to spend. All the way back on the subway I’d gone over the game, and what I heard in the dressing room, and what Rick said to me. I remembered a bunch of times when I maybe could have passed to open guys. Most of the time I thought I could do it better myself, and I did score two goals. I guess I was a bit of a hog, and I probably did stink, and my clothes were dirty.

I did the secret knock and waited. Nothing happened, so I did it again, and the door opened a crack. Brachy peeked out.

“Mouse has arrived,” he said, with a laugh. “Rigger wants a conversation right now.” He pulled the door open a little more and I slid in.

“What’s he want?” All I wanted to do was curl up in my sleeping bag.

“Go ask,” Brachy said with a smirk, and he sat back on the chair.

It would be a waste of time asking him for info, so I headed down the ladder. I should have put my skates,
gloves and stick in my hiding place. It was totally awkward trying to carry them down. The stupid skates banged into my sides, and climbing down a ladder with hockey gloves is no picnic, either.

Rigger was spread out on his chair, one leg sprawled over an armrest, sipping on a drink that smelled like coffee.

He held out his palm. “Any chance I’m gonna get paid, Mouse?” he said.

I pulled out fifty cents and put it in his hand. He shook his head.

“This ain’t no charitable institution. You owe me five bucks.”

“I do not! I only owe for tonight.”

“What about the hockey equipment you stored and didn’t tell me about?” He swung his feet to the floor. “Nobody rips me off. I’m charging you extra for that. So it’s five bucks or you’re outta here.” He put his leg back on the armrest.