The Ice Chips and the Magical Rink Page 6

“Let’s go again!” Swift shouted, shaking the snow out of her ponytail.

  The three began skating back toward the other end. Only now, they were going against the wind. It was hard work and getting harder, with the wind picking up. Edge put his hands in his armpits again and hunched his shoulders.

  The wind blew even stronger, and the three put their heads down and dug in as hard as they could. Swift dropped Lucas’s hand and pushed off, eyes closed with the effort.

  And then, in an instant, they found themselves crossing the centre line in the old Riverton arena.

  They tried to stop as best they could, but they were going fast—too fast, now that they were no longer fighting the wind. Edge and Swift smacked into each other and fell to the ground. And Lucas kept going . . . straight into the boards.

  Chapter 15

  Riverton

  “That’s unbelievable! I don’t believe any of it!”

  Crunch was laughing so hard he had a cramp in his side. His tablet bounced with him as he giggled, and the images it was recording were shaking, too.

  “That’s completely, utterly bananas!” he said, sliding his glasses up into his thick black hair so he could wipe the tears from his eyes.

  “It’s true!” protested Lucas. He also seemed close to tears, but for a different reason.

  “How gullible do you think I am?” asked Crunch. “I watched you skate over the red line, all the way to the boards. I recorded it. How can you expect me to believe you flew off in a time machine and played some game on a frozen pond?”

  “Slough,” Swift corrected.

  “Slough?” Crunch said, shaking his head. “Is that even a real word, or is it one of Edge’s made-up ones?”

  “Oh, just forget it, then!” said an exasperated Edge. “We don’t care if you believe us. It’s true and we know it’s true.”

  But is it? Lucas wondered. It sure didn’t seem to make sense now. But how could three people have exactly the same dream at the same time? And in the middle of a skating race? Impossible!

  “I’ve got it all here, don’t forget!” said Crunch, tapping the side of his tablet. He’d already stopped the recording and was calling it up on the screen. Edge slid over on the bench toward Crunch while Lucas and Swift gathered around him. “I’ll show you,” Crunch said confidently.

  The camera was focused on the rink—first the right side, then the left, where Swift, Edge, and Lucas had just stopped. Swift pushes away, suggests they race . . . and they all take off. They pass the blue line and then hit the red centre line—all three of them at once. There’s a slight flicker, as if the video has skipped a frame. And then there they are, across the line, falling all over each other and slamming into the boards.

  “Awesome crash, Top Shelf,” Edge said, smiling at the video.

  Edge was too busy falling when Lucas, with barely enough time to turn his shoulder, had crashed almost face-first into the boards. Edge had tried to stop on his own when he’d reappeared, but that’s when Swift had plowed right into him from behind. Together, they’d spun around, their arms reaching to grab hold of something, and had both fallen flat on their bums.

  “Did you edit it?” Swift asked suspiciously, squinting at the screen. Maybe it was Crunch’s story they should be questioning.

  Crunch set his tablet down and stared at her. “Do you think I had time to do that?” he asked, confused.

  Lucas knew that if he were the Ice Chip who’d stayed behind, he wouldn’t believe the story either. It simply made no sense.

  Why didn’t we bring anything back with us as proof?

  That’s when Lucas remembered his quarter—the one that was now from 1936. The proof was there—in his pocket!

  He pulled his gloves off and threw them down on the stands in front of him. He reached into his pocket just as the main doors of the rink burst open with a loud clack.

  Quiet Dave the Iceman was back . . . and he had Sadie with him.

  * * *

  “You kids are NOT allowed in here!” the Iceman yelled. Halfway through the sentence, his voice had cracked, as if he wasn’t used to yelling at people and didn’t know how.

  Lucas hunched over immediately, a guilty look on his face. Edge just stared back in disbelief.

  They’d been caught.

  And they were about to be in big, big trouble.

  Dave had Sadie by the elbow—he must have found her on his way back into the arena. In his other hand was an enormous white towel, the kind someone might put on the back of a flooding machine before it cleaned a rink. That’s what Dave must have gone home to get. He’d been faster than expected, and now he was back—and Scratch had . . . they’d gone and . . . how would they explain what they’d done?

  Did Dave already know?

  Sadie looked at Swift. She had fear in her eyes. She was trembling. Had she been crying? Slowly, Sadie shook her head in Swift’s direction.

  “She didn’t tell him anything,” Swift whispered to the others, translating her sister’s gestures. “He doesn’t know that we have my dad’s keys.”

  They should have given Sadie a comm-band when she left—at least to make sure she’d arrived home safely, Lucas thought, kicking himself.

  Where has Sadie been all this time? he wondered, worried. And then he remembered: they were the only ones who had experienced the time in Saskatoon with Edna and Gordon. As far as Crunch was concerned, Sadie had left only ten minutes ago.

  It could take that long just to walk around the building.

  Dave had probably caught Sadie near the Zamboni exit. And he must have missed Lars, Lucas realized, relieved. Lars hadn’t seen the rink—all beautiful and perfect—and Lucas didn’t want him to see it. He didn’t want to share any of this moment with Lars—this perfect moment that he now felt he’d stolen.

  They’d stolen it, and Dave had caught them.

  Suddenly, Sadie freed herself from Dave’s grip and threw herself toward the Plexiglas by the far gate in the boards. Her face was twisted . . . into a smile? What? She wasn’t crying now—she was banging on the glass, beaming.

  “Whooooo did this?” Sadie yelled toward the Ice Chips, grinning at the now perfect ice. “HOW?” she yelled back at Dave, who didn’t seem to have noticed she’d escaped.

  That’s because Dave, too, was staring at the rink. Only he wasn’t surprised like Sadie.

  He looked very, very worried.

  Chapter 16

  “Guys, the ice!” Swift yelled. Then she jumped back through the hole in the boards as fast as she could. What else could she do? Dave had already found them out, but he couldn’t drag them home to their parents if he couldn’t catch them on the ice.

  Or . . . in Saskatoon!

  Edge couldn’t believe she’d take the risk.

  “Swift! What are you doing?!” He glared after her and then turned back toward Lucas for support.

  But Lucas wasn’t watching Swift. He wasn’t watching Sadie, either, as she bent down on the other side of the rink, opened her skate bag, and rushed to lace up her skates—the freshly flooded ice too delicious to ignore. No, Lucas was watching Dave, who was now angrily marching toward them.

  “He’s going to tell our parents,” moaned Crunch, running his fingers through his hair in a panic, forgetting that he’d left his glasses on top of his head. “They’re going to find out, and I’m going to be grounded.”

  “Just wait . . .” Lucas said quietly to Crunch and Edge, slowly raising his hand out to his side like a crossing guard.

  Maybe we aren’t in trouble—at least, not the usual kind.

  Lucas didn’t know why he had that feeling. He just did.

  Edge, however, couldn’t wait. Not knowing who to protect—Lucas and Crunch from Dave, or Swift and Sadie from another leap through time—he bounded back onto the ice, ready for whatever happened next.

  Soon Dave was in front of the stands, in front of Lucas and Crunch, looking unbelievably stressed.

  “What you’ve done is dangerous—incredibly DANGE
ROUS! Do you understand that?!” Dave said loudly. He was dragging his big white towel with him like a blankie.

  “I guess . . . I mean, yes,” Lucas answered. In his skates, he was almost the height of Dave’s shoulders, but that didn’t make him feel any better. Lying and getting caught always made Lucas feel as small as a mouse. Embarrassed, he kept his eyes on Dave’s towel so he wouldn’t have to look the Iceman in the eyes.

  Wait! Dave knows we cleaned the rink, but does he already know what Scratch can do? Where he can go? He must!

  Lucas was putting the pieces together as fast as he could.

  He paused for a moment . . . and then went for it.

  “We . . . we found Scratch around the corner—Crunch did,” Lucas suddenly confessed.

  “Lucas!” moaned Crunch, cupping his forehead in the palms of his hands. “I’m not the one who—”

  “Then we used our hockey towels, put them on the back,” Lucas continued, ignoring Crunch. “We fixed Scratch . . . and then he . . . cleaned the ice.” Lucas let this last word fall out of his mouth like a drop of water from a dripping tap—a dull thud with a question mark. There was more to this story and he knew it.

  Dave looked like he might yell again, but he didn’t. He turned around and rubbed his hand over his chin, and when he turned back, he was Dave the Iceman again. Defeated, he offered Lucas a frustrated smile—as though to say, “What’s done is done.”

  “Look, kids, this rink is . . . broken,” he said carefully. “It’s closed. This is the end.”

  Was that relief Lucas sensed? Or sadness? He couldn’t tell.

  “It doesn’t have to be the end,” Lucas offered, trying to be optimistic. He desperately wanted to talk about the time machine, but he didn’t know how.

  “I’m afraid it does, Lucas,” said Dave. “I found some old-style fuses at that Whatsit Shop in town, but now I can’t even get into the chiller room because the city—the mayor—took away my key for that door. So what you’ve seen here tonight . . . that was this rink’s last flood.”

  “Or . . . not!”

  It was Crunch, suddenly standing at Lucas’s side with his tablet under his arm. He was excited, as if he’d just solved a hard math problem or discovered a new planet.

  “The chiller room is behind that big blue steel door, right? The one you hit with the puck, Lucas?”

  Lucas and Dave both nodded.

  “Well, in that case”—Crunch grinned and cleared his throat—“I think we might be able to help you.”

  * * *

  “Don’t get mad,” Crunch warned, looking at Dave. Then he turned to Lucas. “I noticed this when I was still looking for the broom, after the shootout.”

  Carefully, Crunch reached his hand out toward the blue metal door and turned the doorknob slightly. It twisted, detached, and then fell to the ground with a metallic thud.

  Lucas’s cheeks flushed red. The knob must have come loose after he’d slammed it with the puck!

  Crunch looked over, and Lucas nodded and moved toward him. Together, the two boys gave the metal door a heavy check with their shoulders. Something clicked where the door handle used to be—and the door gave.

  Slowly, it began to open.

  Good, thought Lucas. Swift can keep her keys hidden. Dave might not tell anyone that they’d broken into the rink, but he’d definitely have to tell Swift’s dad that his keys had been stolen.

  Dave looked upset about the door, but he seemed to realize that he couldn’t react that way because the Chips were helping him. Instead, he put his hand into his pocket and pulled out several small glass bottles of slightly different sizes and shapes.

  “These are the fuses,” Dave said, jostling them around a little in the palm of his hand. “They’re safety devices. If a surge of electricity is too strong, the fuses burn out and need replacing. The Whatsit Shop’s got boxes of them—all different kinds. I haven’t changed a chiller fuse in ages and couldn’t remember the size, so your mother just gave me a handful.”

  Lucas had to stifle a laugh. Bits and bobs for the oddest jobs, he repeated in his head. He was sure that his parents had no idea how odd this job was.

  As Dave sifted through the fuses, he told them that he hadn’t even had a chance to see if any of them fit before his key had been taken and the rink closed. “I think it’s either one of these round ones or the one with the yellow—” he started.

  “That one,” said Crunch with complete certainty, poking his finger down into Dave’s palm and touching one of the small glass objects. Then to Lucas: “What did you think I was looking up on my tablet?”

  “Thanks,” said Dave. “But this is just the first step. Even if this fuse works, I’ll still need to find a belt for the pump—one that fits.”

  But the Chips already knew the answer to that: No one had been able to find one anywhere.

  * * *

  With her arms out to her sides, Sadie skated over to the goal line, where Edge and her sister were standing, and wrapped her arms around Swift. They hugged each other as they turned once together on the ice.

  “Are you . . . okay?” Edge could hear Swift whisper into her sister’s white fluffy sweater before they separated.

  Sadie nodded to say that she was. In fact, now she was ecstatic—she couldn’t believe what she was skating on!

  Edge and Swift watched, mesmerized, as Sadie’s blades glided across the crisp surface of the rink, her legs criss-crossing in a fluid motion as she flipped from backwards skating to forwards nearing the centre ice line.

  She was getting ready to jump . . .

  “Sadie, nooo!” Edge suddenly called out, remembering where they were—what could happen on this ice.

  But it was too late.

  Sadie put all her weight on her right leg, swung her left one around to turn halfway, and then dug the toe pick of her left skate hard into the ice. As she vaulted her body into the air, she crossed the centre line in mid-flight . . .

  . . . and landed cleanly on the other side.

  Swift and Edge turned to each other. Their hearts were beating so fast, they were almost in their throats.

  How had Sadie crossed the line without—? Wait! Had they missed seeing the flicker?

  “Do you think she jumped here and then jumped again in Saskatoon, at exactly the right time?” asked Edge, looking at Swift as he went over each thought. “Simultenaciously? Or something like that?”

  “Impossible,” Swift said. Then she called out to Sadie: “How’s the . . . ice?” There was suspicion in Swift’s voice—and worry—but she had to know.

  “AH-mazing!” Sadie replied enthusiastically as she circled again, her speed blowing her curly brown hair across her face. Completely oblivious to the fact that something magical had happened on that very spot only moments earlier, Sadie turned twice more and did another toe loop over the centre line.

  In the corner of the arena, Dave looked sheepishly at Lucas, as if he wanted to say something but thought he shouldn’t.

  “Wait, did she just—?” Lucas started, but he, too, was afraid to continue.

  Crunch, on the other hand, hadn’t even noticed that Sadie had crossed the centre line. All he’d seen, spinning through the air, was Sadie’s outfit—specifically, her figure skating tights.

  What did Lucas say about Little Robert and the invention with the belt? Crunch still didn’t believe that his teammates had found a time machine, but Lucas’s story had given him an idea.

  Crunch was about to call out to Sadie—to see if she had another pair of nylons or tights in her skate bag—when Dave suddenly blurted: “Don’t worry, Lucas. She’s fine. It only works right after the flood . . . That’s when you travel through time.”

  “Through what?!” Crunch said, nearly choking.

  Chapter 17

  Butterflies in the stomach . . .

  Lucas wondered where on earth that saying had come from. His mother had asked him if he had “butterflies in his tummy” before he headed off to the Riverton Community Ar
ena for the fall tryouts.

  No, he didn’t have butterflies in his tummy. He had crocodiles and pterodactyls and Tyrannosaurus rexes and wildcats and boa constrictors and at least one angry ape with a big ugly sliver in his bum cheek!

  But that was good, Lucas thought. You should be nervous. Nerves make you sharp. They make you go harder, try harder, play better. Nerves make you want it—whatever it was—all the more.

  Lucas knew what he was aiming for: a place on the Ice Chips.

  He definitely didn’t want to play for the Riverton Stars. He didn’t want to play with the Blitz twins, or with Lars—Lars was the worst. “I’d better make the Ice Chips,” Lucas chanted as he rubbed his lucky quarter (the quarter that was back to saying 2002 . . . he had no idea how!).

  Lars and the Blitz twins can have the Stars.

  To make the Ice Chips this season, Lucas knew he’d have to make a real impression. There was no other option—even while his face still burned like he’d fallen asleep on a beach without sunscreen on. It was windburn from when the wind had whipped them down that frozen slough—Swift and Edge had it, too.

  Lucas couldn’t believe how much had happened since then.

  Dave had fixed the chillers in the Riverton Community Arena with the fuse, and then he’d fixed the pumps using Sadie’s figure skating nylons as a belt for the motor. Lucas was surprised that it had all worked, but it had. And the Ice Chips had helped! Soon, the machines were freezing again, and Mayor Ward had reopened their arena.

  But not just that: it was their rink where this morning’s novice tryouts were being held.

  Their rink. Their ice. And Lucas and Edge on the same line again—or so they hoped.

  As Lucas packed Speedy’s stinking, mismatched equipment into his bag, he knew he’d never been so ready to compete.

  * * *

  There was motion everywhere at the Riverton Community Arena—players moving toward the dressing rooms, parents moving toward the stands, and the rink’s regular Zamboni (not Scratch—thank goodness!) making slick, glossy half ovals around the ice.