Making the Cut (8 page)

“… and I want Charlie, Simon and Gabriel as the other line. We only have about ten minutes for a scrimmage — but too much drilling dulls the senses. We need to put some of this stuff into action.” Clark blasted his whistle. “Line ’em up, boys.”

Simon tapped Charlie on the shin pads. “Let’s wheel and have some fun.”

“Sounds good to me,” Charlie said. He could tell Simon loved to play, and that he was never happier than when a coach announced a scrimmage, even a short one. He knew because he was the same way.

“This is our puck,” Gabriel said, joining them as they skated to centre for the faceoff. “Careful of neutral zone turnovers — and we go hard on the forecheck.”

Savard’s line was out against them. Richard was on the left, and a kid named Tan was the right winger. The two lines were evenly matched. He knew all about Savard, and Charlie vowed to watch him all over the ice. Richard was a tough-minded player, kind of like Simon,
although maybe not quite as skillful. Tan was a bit on the small side, but his speed was a killer, easily a match for Gabriel.

Trevor dropped the puck hard and it bounced off the ice. Their sticks clashed and on the rebound Savard was able to swipe it to the boards with his forehand. Richard and Simon were on it, but Simon got there a touch faster and he flipped it back to his D, who rifled a pass across to the right defenceman. Charlie anticipated the play and curled deeply in the neutral zone and cut up just as the defenceman took the pass. The puck barely touched his stick before it was on Charlie’s — a perfect pass. Savard reached in to head him off just as Simon came off the wall at a 45-degree angle. Charlie took a step and snapped a pass. He had to put it slightly behind him to avoid Savard’s stick, but Simon kicked it up to his stick easily.

The right defenceman stepped up to force him, and Simon flipped the puck up high into the near corner. Gabriel let Simon continue on to force the play, and he glided in behind to add pressure. Charlie hovered up high, worried about leaving Savard alone. Simon went in hard and jarred the puck loose. Gabriel jumped on it and went behind the net. With the puck in his possession Charlie switched into offence mode and moved into the slot. Miller had told him to be confident, so …

The left defenceman charged at Gabriel in the corner. The left winger backhanded the puck along the boards. Charlie swept in to retrieve it, and immediately felt Savard’s presence. With not much choice, Charlie moved
it back towards the blue line slowly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Simon creep in behind the net. They were set up for the cycle. Charlie didn’t hesitate. He backhanded it to Simon, who took it to the other side, where Gabriel moved in to help out. Three times Charlie had the puck behind the net or along the boards, and each time he chopped it down low to a waiting linemate. It was grinding hockey, and all three forwards took some punishment, but it was also satisfying to keep the puck for so long. Finally, Charlie spotted his right defenceman open at the point and he snapped a carom pass to him along the wall.

Simon immediately crashed the net. Charlie remembered Clark’s advice and the drill they’d done. Keep those feet moving, Joyce, he said to himself, and so rather than wait for the shot he charged to the slot. The defenceman faked the shot and passed it across to his partner, who let it rip from about five feet inside the blue line. Simon offered himself as a screen, so Charlie decided to camp out at the top of the crease to the goalie’s left. The goalie ducked low and dropped into his butterfly. The puck bounced off his left pad and ricocheted off Charlie’s skate. For a second he thought he had the short side open, until Savard lifted his stick momentarily and the left defenceman swept the puck out of danger into the corner.

Richard swooped in neatly and drove up ice. Exhausted after a hard shift, the right winger dumped it in and changed up, as did all the players on Charlie’s side. On the bench, Charlie took several deep sips of water, and
passed the bottle to his linemates.

“Good effort,” he said. “We had the puck the entire shift. We’ll put one in next time.”

Simon sent a small stream of water onto the ice in a high arc. “I should’ve tipped that shot. Just missed it.”

“The D got his stick between my legs and got me off to the perimeter before the shot. I was useless. As least Charlie got close to the puck,” Gabriel said.

Charlie thought all three of them had played great. Simon and Gabriel had worked like monsters on the boards, cycling the puck, and the shot was right on. If Savard had been half a second slower, Charlie would have scored. They were so hard on themselves, but it was in a good way. It fired him up to work even harder. He turned his attention to the game. The play raged back and forth at a tremendous pace. He found himself getting antsy watching — he had to get back out there!

Soon enough the centre signalled a change and Charlie hurled himself over the boards. Jake had the puck in his own end, curling in front of his net, moving slowly. Charlie went straight at him, figuring he’d be tired at the end of a long shift. Jake saw him and looked to his right to pass to his winger, so Charlie held his stick out to intercept. That changed Jake’s mind and he swerved back to his left, one hand on the stick, driving hard for open ice.

Charlie had the advantage of being well rested, and he was able to double back and swing his stick as Jake crossed the blue line. He caught a piece of the puck, and it hopped over Jake’s stick. The two defencemen had
spread out wide to give Jake an outlet, which meant Charlie had an unobstructed lane to the net. Charlie kicked it forward with his right foot and brought the bouncing puck under control by tapping the top of the puck with the bottom of his blade.

The goalie immediately came out, crouched low, his glove held out wide a little over waist level. His name was Theodore; lightning quick and fearless, he loved to challenge shooters on breakaways, and he was very difficult to beat on a deke. His only weakness was his height. Not the tallest kid, he could be beaten upstairs. Both defencemen were charging to close the gap, so he didn’t have too much time. Charlie dragged the puck behind his back foot, feinted to his backhand and then took a step to his left as if he wanted to deke stickside. The goalie backed up, ready to drop into the butterfly.

“Perfect,” Charlie thought. He pulled the puck towards his skates with the tip of his stick and snapped a forehand to the top corner. The goalie had given him too much net, and the puck flew over his arm and in.

Charlie curled back to his end, stick across his knees. It was only a scrimmage, so he wasn’t going to make a big deal over a goal, although it felt awesome to pick Jake’s pocket. In fact, he saw Clark speaking to Jake against the boards. Jake was looking at the ice, nodding occasionally. Maybe that would shut him up.

Gabriel and Simon held out their hands and he high-fived them.

“That’s the way to forecheck,” Gabriel said. “Let’s keep getting on them real quick.”

Charlie rapped his shin pads with his stick and lined up for the draw. Savard came out for Jake.

“That’s almost two goals in two shifts,” Savard said to Charlie. “Take it easy. You’re making us look bad.”

That was typical J.C. He always made it seem like everyone else was amazing and he was just an average player. Charlie had played against him enough this past year to know he was capable of scoring two goals on any shift if the other team wasn’t careful.

“This time Gabriel’s gonna score, so don’t worry about me,” Charlie said, to his right winger.

“I thought I was gonna get two?” Gabriel said.

“Can we play some hockey already?” Richard growled.

Clark obliged, dropping the puck. Savard showed he was ready by winning the draw back to the right D. Charlie scolded himself for losing the draw so easily. He hadn’t been focused and Savard made him look bush.

He forechecked, one hand on his stick to take away the inside lane, waving it side to side slightly to make it harder to pass. The defenceman was smart and only faked the inside move, hitting Savard with a pass in the seam about six feet from the boards. Simon left his man to force Savard, who deftly flicked the puck over Simon’s stick to Richard. The burly winger took three powerful strides over centre and dumped it into the opposite corner for his left winger.

Charlie hustled to cover Savard. But he wasn’t the easiest guy to keep in check. He took off without warning to the left side and before Charlie could get
there the puck was on his stick, courtesy of a sharp pass from the winger who had outraced the defender to the corner. Savard threw on the brakes at the hash marks, with his back to Charlie, as his teammates streamed into the zone. Charlie felt good, however. He had Savard trapped against the wall, and there wasn’t much he could do.

He couldn’t have been more wrong. Savard whirled towards the blue line with the puck on his forehand and snapped a pass down low to the left winger who had managed to sneak past the defenceman. The winger one-timed it across the crease to Richard, and the puck was in before Charlie or any of his teammates could move.

Charlie slapped the ice with his stick. “We were supposed to score,” he said to Savard in admiration.

“That wouldn’t be fair,” he replied good-naturedly, as he skated to the net to congratulate Richard.

It was a different Charlie Joyce who lined up for the faceoff this time. Corey had said it all: You can’t take a shift off. This time he blocked Savard’s stick, and knocked the puck with his forehand to the boards close to his right defenceman.

In a repeat of the previous play, Savard forechecked and Charlie took a short pass from his defencemen. He spun and headed up ice, crossing the red line before firing it into the corner for Simon. He corralled the rolling puck and ringed it around the wall to Gabriel. Charlie followed the play intently, looking for an open seam. Gabriel didn’t hesitate. He took the puck, drove hard back behind the
net, and cut into the front of the net past a startled defencemen. The goalie dropped to his knees and pressed up against the post.

That wasn’t a problem for Gabriel. He pulled the puck back a fraction and flipped it up under the crossbar, before taking a late hit. He spun to the ice on his knees and popped back up seemingly in one motion.

Charlie marvelled at his right winger’s skills. What a goal — truly worthy of the highlight reel. As they lined up for the faceoff, Charlie noticed Savard was dead serious for the draw this time, as were all the players. Lesson learned by everyone: don’t take a shift off or the puck’s in your net.

Charlie leaned into Savard and inched his stick forward in anticipation of Clark dropping the puck.

Corey’s phone rang. The door to the bathroom flung open, and he came bounding across the room to grab it from the nightstand next to his bed.

“Hol’ on a sec, Da …” he struggled to say, his mouth full of toothpaste. He returned to the bathroom to spit and rinse his mouth.

Scott and Nick came into the room. “Is there a Joyce in the house?” Scott called out.

“You dudes ready to play?” Charlie asked.

Corey had spent most of last night talking about the capture the flag game they were playing this morning.

“The winning team gets a cup,” he told Charlie, “and the other guys gotta clap you off the field; and they have to wait for you to eat breakfast. It’s totally awesome. And last year I snagged the flag for the win and the guys carried me on their shoulders. It was a total riot.”

He had laughed about that for what seemed like forever. But he didn’t look too happy now as he came out of the bathroom and tossed his phone onto his bed. His
mood changed instantly when he saw Charlie’s friends. “I’m totally stoked for capture the flag,” he said to them. “Did I tell you I found the flag last year to win it?” he asked Charlie.

Charlie nodded.

“I did not know that,” Scott said. “Please, tell us all about it.”

The last thing Charlie wanted was another play-by-play of how Corey had nabbed the flag.

“We’ll be late if we don’t get going,” Charlie interjected. “I don’t need Jen busting me for a punctuality infringement again.”

“Those are big words, Charlie,” Nick said. “Have you been taking your smart pills?”

“You can get smart pills?” Scott exclaimed.

“You can,” Nick said, in a sad voice. “But unfortunately, you need to have a brain first or the pills don’t work.”

Scott’s shoulders sagged. “I should’ve gone to the Wizard of Oz for some brains when I had the chance.”

“Why didn’t you?” Nick asked.

“It’s a long story. There were these flying monkeys, and a tin guy, and a dog, and this nice girl with an awesome voice …”

They all headed to the front doors.

Corey tugged on Charlie’s shoulder to hang back. “Your friends are good guys, but they’re kinda weird, aren’t they?” Corey whispered to Charlie.

“You have no idea,” Charlie said.

It was still early and there was a chill in the air. Charlie was a touch cold and he bounced lightly on his toes to stay warm.

“Didn’t your mommy tell you to go to the washroom before you left the house?”

Jake exchanged a high-five with Zane.

“Good timing, dude,” Markus chimed.

Charlie stopped bouncing.

“What’s going to be your excuse for cheating at capture the flag — a weak bladder?” Jake continued.

The guys around Jake laughed loudly. Charlie rolled his eyes.

Jake kept going. “Heard about your lost equipment. Maybe you should tie a string from your bag to your finger so you don’t lose it again.”

Charlie bit his lip to help control his temper. Jake would love for him to say something. Then he’d diss him back and all the guys would laugh some more.

“You must be all happy and giggly ’cause you scored a goal in scrimmage yesterday. Mommy would be so very proud of her little Charlie-Warlie.”

Charlie caught Slogger’s eye. Then he noticed that Simon and Gabriel were watching him too. Nick and Scott were also staring at him intently, and Savard, Burnett, and Cameron were quietly looking on. Were they waiting for him to respond? He took a deep breath. All camp he’d ignored Jake as best he could, figuring he shouldn’t lower himself to his level. His instincts told him maybe he’d let things go too far without standing up for himself. He ignored the growing knot in his stomach.

“You’re not too chatty today, Charles,” Jake continued. “Run out of lame things to say?” Zane snickered behind him. Jake snapped his fingers. “I have an idea. Why don’t you regale us with the tale of how I pounded you out this season?” He turned to Zane. “Unfortunately, my good buddy got so scared after our tussle he didn’t play for a month. Ain’t that right, Char?”

The fight was a low point in the season for Charlie. He’d just been cross-checked by Jake and was totally out of it. After the fight, Jake had acted like he was the heavyweight champion of the world.

“Why don’t you tell the guys who won the championship this year,” Charlie said quietly.

He snorted. “Worst team in the league gets totally lucky, and you act like you won the Stanley Cup.”

“But the Rebels did win — and the Wildcats did lose; and I think you play for the Wildcats. Doesn’t that make you … I don’t know … a loser?”

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “We were winning until the ref gave the game to you.”

“I think you mean you were winning until you quit on your team.”

About half the camp was listening to them now.

“On second thought, I think you talk too much,” Jake snarled, stepping towards him.

Charlie had no intention of fighting. “You’re like a bad video game,” he said. “Same thing over and over. We all know that when the pressure’s on, you quit. You quit our high school team in the semifinals, and you quit against the Rebels in the championship game.”

“I think that makes him a quitter,” Scott said to Nick.

“It all adds up,” Nick said.

A buzz rose amongst the players. Charlie guessed that tidbit of information surprised them big time. Jake acted like the toughest guy at camp — but tough guys don’t quit.

“Attention, everyone,” Jen yelled.

That broke things up and they all turned towards her and Trevor. She waved red and blue cloths over her head, and dropped a canvas bag to the ground.

“As those of you who’ve been here before know,” Jen said, “the only thing bigger than the Challenge Game is the Capture the Flag Cup.” Trevor held the cup over his head, which garnered a loud cheer.

She continued. “We’re going to do something a bit different this year. Instead of matching the teams against each other, we’ve divided the camp into two groups — Blue and Red.” She pointed to a pile of pinnies on the ground. “I’ll call out the Blue team first and you’ll take the south end. Trevor will help organize you. Grab a pinny when your name’s called and head down there. As you can see, in each end zone there’s a banner with your team colour.” Jen held up the two bands of cloth. “These are your flags. You can hide them in the forest, but they must be clearly visible from at least one direction. Hiding your flag completely will result in automatic disqualification.

“I’m standing on the centre line. Tackle an opposing player on your side of the field and that player must go
to jail. You’ll see a big circle around the banners in chalk — that’s jail. Jailed players can be freed if a team member runs through the chalked circle.”

“Do you have to run through it or can you just put a foot inside?” someone asked.

“What do you think, Trev?” she asked.

Trevor scrunched his face to the side. “One foot inside is good,” he declared dramatically.

Jen laughed. “One foot it is. First team to find the other team’s flag and carry it back to his own side is the winner. The boundaries are the rinks on my left and the ridge of the escarpment in the forested area, overlooking the ravine on my right. Careful of the forest. There are fallen branches and logs everywhere and the escarpment is very steep. We have two hours, so we might have a few games. But the cup goes to the winner of the first game. Good luck.”

“Jen and I will be judging,” Trevor said, “so keep to the rules. Just like in football, if your knee touches the ground, you’ve been tackled.”

Jen began calling out names. Charlie got called early for the Blue team, and he was glad to hear Slogger, Gabriel and Simon were also on his team. Scott and Nick were Red, unfortunately.

“Charlie, I don’t want you crying and having a tantrum when we win,” Scott said. “It’s so embarrassing, and it reflects very badly on me since everyone knows I’m your mentor and idol.”

“I’ll try to keep it together,” Charlie said, forcing himself to joke around. He was still preoccupied with his run-in with Jake.

“And let’s remember to just have fun — and use your words,” Nick said.

“And no put-downs,” Scott said emphatically.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Nick replied.

Slogger was laughing his head off. “Let’s get away from these dudes. They’re a bad influence.”

Corey came over to Charlie with his fist extended. He wore a red pinny. Charlie punched his fist. “You guys stoked?” Corey said to Scott and Nick. “We gotta smoke these guys.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Scott said slowly. “We just gotta … smoke them — big time.”

“If we don’t, then … we won’t have … smoked them,” Nick said.

“I’ll see you boys down at the banner,” Corey replied, oblivious. “You’ll see me running down the field with the blue flag.”

He slapped Charlie and Slogger and ran off, high-fiving Trevor as he passed him.

“I have to admit I think he wants this more than me,” Scott said.

“Gentlemen, could you please get to your team ends. We want to get started,” Jen said to them.

“I’d like to apologize for my friends,” Scott said solemnly. “They simply won’t listen. I pleaded with them to go to their respective banners, but they refused. The problem is they want me to tell them more stories about my hockey career, and of course, how I play the game and strategy and all that. I guess it’s my fault for being so interesting.”

Jen slung her arm across Scott’s shoulders. “Perhaps you could show some leadership skills and get going yourself, Mr. Slatsky.”

“That was my plan, except —”

Charlie intervened. Scott could go on forever. “Jen, order him to go, or this’ll only get worse. Trust me.”

She nodded at him. “Now that’s good advice.” She pointed at Scott and Nick. “You two — get going. Red needs you.”

“Did you hear that?” Scott gasped. “We’re needed!”

“Heigh-ho!” Nick sang.

“Heigh-ho!” Scott replied.

“Heigh-ho … Heigh-ho … it’s off to Red we go!” they sang in unison.

Simon and Gabriel waved Charlie and Slogger over.

“Hey, Trevor,” Gabriel called out. “Us four will be an attacking unit. Okay?”

Trevor nodded, and turned back to sorting out the rest of the Blue team. Charlie surveyed the scene while everyone waited for the game to begin. The forest wasn’t that wide because of the escarpment, but it did offer the only cover.

“Maybe we should slip off into the forest before the game starts,” Charlie whispered, “and we can use the cover to get deep into Red’s end before they know we’re coming.”

“Charlie, that’s sneaky, devious and underhanded,” Slogger said. “So let’s do it.”

Simon and Gabriel nodded, both grinning broadly. Charlie walked behind the crowd of Blue players milling
around their banner, and when he thought the Red players couldn’t possibly see them he snuck into the forest, with Slogger, Simon and Gabriel close behind.

“Attack mode, Zebra Squad,” Charlie said. “Move out.”