The Intrepid Canadian Expedition (3 page)

The next morning Stanley and Nick said good-bye to their hosts and found the dogsled team in the village. There was only one seat, so Stanley gamely volunteered to ride flat, under everyone’s feet. The ride was bumpy, but every time he was tempted to complain, Stanley recalled the magical sky he and Nick had seen.

At last they arrived at the city of Calgary. The dogsled driver dropped them off at the address Tulugaq had provided. Stanley and Nick knocked.

When the door opened, Nick cried out, “This must be the wrong address! We’re looking for Tulugaq’s cousin.”

“Cousin Tulugaq sent you? Well, come on in, little pardners! This is the spot, all right!”

“But how come you’re not…How come you look like a cowboy?” Nick demanded—a little rudely, it must be said.

“And native people can’t be cowboys, is that it? Well, guess again, little pardner. This is Calgary, the Wild West
of Canada. I’m Nauja and I’m Inuit…and I’m also a cowboy! Now come on in from the cold and meet my family!”

“I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that a cousin of Tulugaq would be a cowboy,” Stanley said thoughtfully after being introduced to Nauja’s wife and children. “A girl I met at Mount Rushmore—Calamity Jasper—taught me that anyone can be a cowboy. She was part Lakota Sioux.”

A smile came to Stanley’s face remembering her. “She taught me some other things, too,” he said. “Do you have a rope I could borrow?” Nauja brought a length of rope, and then Stanley
entertained everyone with lariat tricks the cowgirl had shown him.

Nick sat in a corner, scowling. “Nobody likes a show-off, you know!” he muttered.

Just then a knock came at the door. There on the steps stood a man wearing a bright red coat, a big tan hat, and tall brown boots. He towered over everyone, so straight and powerful-looking, Stanley wondered for a minute if he was real.

Nauja gave the man a big bear hug. “Mountie Martin! What are you doing here, so far from Quebec?”

“Working. My partner and I chased
a dangerous desperado out here. I figure…I’m so close to
mon cher
cousin I might as well stop by for a quick visit…
non
?”

“You’re Nauja’s cousin, too? And Tulugaq’s?” asked Nick.

“
Oui
. The French-Canadian side of the family, by marriage. Mountie
Martin, at your service,” he saluted to the boys. “And who might you be?”

The boys introduced themselves and explained they were trying to get to Niagara Falls. Then Stanley asked what he was dying to know. “That dangerous desperado you were chasing…did you get him?”

The Mountie beamed. “But of course I got him,
mon ami
!” he cried. “I am a Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer. We always get our man! Now, how would you fellows like a ride to Quebec? My partner had to fly back with the desperado, and I could use the company. I could get you a lot closer to Niagara Falls.”

Nick and Stanley made their goodbyes and got into Mountie Martin’s cruiser. The Mountie made adjustments to Stanley’s seat belt until it held him snugly. “Safety first, eh? No matter the shape!”

Mountie Martin insisted they begin the trip with a big meal of Canadian specialties. “My treat,” he said. “The United States of America is our neighbor. I am just being neighborly while you are visiting us!”

The boys—having the healthy appetites that travel brings on—enjoyed everything. Stanley’s favorite was
poutine
. “French fries with cheese
and gravy…what could be better?” he asked.

“Maple taffy,” answered Nick. He poured more hot syrup over snow for a second helping of the sticky dessert.

Back on the road, Mountie Martin was a good guide. He pointed out mountains, rivers, and cities as they covered the vast and beautiful lands of Canada. All the sights seemed to remind him of a story or an interesting bit of history. Whatever he said, Nick seemed to already know about it.

On the second day, the conversation turned to sports. “Canada was a good choice for the 2010 Olympic Games,” Mountie Martin said. “We are a nation
of winter-sports lovers!”

At that, Nick listed all his favorites: skiing, skating, luging, and snowboarding. Nick was an expert at everything. Stanley slid down in his seat and stared out the window. At least, he thought, at least with every minute we are getting closer to Niagara Falls. And closer to home…

“How about you, Stanley?” Mountie Martin interrupted his thoughts. “Who’s your favorite team?”

“Excuse me?”

“We were talking about hockey. Here in Canada, it is our national sport—the greatest sport in the history of the world!”

Stanley slid even farther down in his seat. “I’ve never seen a game,” he mumbled, almost to himself.

“I’m a huge fan!” Nick exclaimed. “I’ve been to lots of games!”

Mountie Martin braked abruptly—but with caution and complete control. He pulled the cruiser over to the shoulder of the road and snapped the flashing lights on. “Safety first,” he explained. “Now, would you please say that again, young man?”

Nick beamed. “I said I’ve been to lots of hockey games—I’m the biggest fan!”

“No, not you,” the Mountie said. He nodded to Stanley. “You,
mon ami.
What did you just say?”

Stanley felt himself blush with embarrassment. “I’ve never been to a hockey game,” he admitted.

“Well,” said the Mountie, “here in
Canada, that is a very serious offense—a crime! And since I am a sworn officer of the law, I cannot let this crime continue. I’m afraid I’m going to have to arrest you and take you to a…”

Stanley gulped, waiting for his punishment.

“…a hockey game!” Although Mountie Martin said this in a stern voice, he wore a big smile.

In the backseat, Stanley grinned and saluted. “Yes, sir, Mountie Martin, sir! I’m sorry for breaking the law!”

“No fair!” cried Nick. “I’m a bigger fan than he is!”

Mountie Martin turned to face Nick.
“A team that competes with itself is not a very strong team. You understand?
Oui?
”

“We?” Nick asked. “You mean Stanley and me, do we understand?”

“No,” Mountie Martin began. “
Oui
means ‘yes,’ in French. But
oui
, I do mean you and Stanley. Look: You tell me stories about snowboarding as a pair, traveling across Canada together, flying through the air, relying upon each other. You make your way back across this whole country—again, because you are a team. Why must you always compete? In the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, we learn to rely on our partners. We must always be
we
. Now if
you are ready to be a real team, I think I will take you
both
to this hockey game tonight!”

“Sure. For a hockey game, we’ll be a team!” Nick smiled, but Stanley noticed he had crossed his fingers.

That night, as promised, Mountie Martin stopped in Ottawa and took the boys to a hockey game. “The Maple Leafs are playing. They’re my favorite team, even though I am from Quebec,” he admitted.

The game was as thrilling as Stanley had always heard. At halftime, a contest was announced. The fan with the best
sign would be invited down to the ice and given one chance to score a goal. If the fan made the shot—a one in a hundred chance—he or she would win a trip to the Maple Leafs’ next game, which was in Toronto.

Toronto! Stanley looked around at the packed stadium. Hundreds of fans were waving signs. Suddenly he had a terrific idea. “Do you think you can hold me up if I stand on your shoulders?” he asked Nick.

Nick flexed his muscles. “Of course! I’m probably the strongest kid here!” He caught Mountie Martin’s warning look, and then he said, “Well, you’re pretty strong, too, Stanley.” He made
a step out of his hands. “Here, I’ll give you a boost.”

“Not yet,” said Stanley. He pulled his red scarf way down over his face and pulled his red turtleneck up to meet it. And then to Nick and Mountie Martin’s amazement, he folded his upper body into a perfect maple leaf. He pleated his legs, in their brown pants, into a stem!

“I learned origami while I was in Japan not long ago,” came Stanley’s muffled voice from somewhere inside
the leaf. “Now hoist me up, Nick!”

Nick did, and the crowd went wild.

“There’s our winner!” shouted the announcer. “No question at all! Come on down to the ice!”

Nick, holding the Stanley–maple leaf up in triumph, made his way down to the rink, surrounded by the admiring crowd. When he reached the centerline, Stanley jumped down and unfurled himself. And the fans went wild.

When the applause finally died down, the captain of the Maple Leafs skated over and handed Nick a puck and a hockey stick.

Stanley whispered something to Nick. Then Nick handed the puck back
to the team captain. “No thanks,” he said. “We’ll use our own!”

And then Stanley lay down on the ice and coiled himself into a tight disk. Nick took aim and swung the hockey stick hard, whacking Stanley on the soles of his boots. Stanley skittered crazily across the ice. He was hurtling for the side line—nowhere near the goal. Stanley quickly calculated the angle and adjusted himself. When he hit the boards, he ricocheted off, now aiming
right for the…

“Goal!” yelled the announcer. “I don’t believe my eyes, but these two boys have just done the impossible!”

“You did the impossible, Stanley,” Nick said when Stanley uncoiled himself. “Mountie Martin was right…. We really do make a good team!”

The captain of the team skated over and shook both boys’ hands. He handed them the box seat tickets and airline tickets. “See you in Toronto!” he said.