Arctic Thunder (17 page)
GRANT BONNETPLUME (Goalie): Gwich'in boy of average height and build. Good reflexes and skill for a hockey goalie. Still adjusting to lacrosse stance and mentality. Having a terrible time with bounce shots and will need to work on that. Should be fine, but will needs lots and lots of work. Great passer.
M
ike and Ben pushed through the RCMP office door and stepped into the cold evening air. Pausing for a moment, Ben placed his hands on his hips and arched his back, exhaling loudly. “That sure was a long day,” he told his son. “Thanks for coming by. You know, I'm really getting the hang of things now, and all the extra paperwork doesn't seem so bad, after all. And that lacrosse team! I've never seen a bunch of kids learn the game so quickly.” Glancing to his left, Ben saw his blue RCMP pickup. “How about we go for a spin, Mike? I always find it helps me unwind before heading home.”
“Sure, Dad.”
Unlocking the door, Ben hopped into the driver's seat, waited for Mike to climb into the passenger seat, then started the engine. He threw the truck into reverse, backed into the street, and headed toward Mackenzie Road. The light was green, so he turned left and drove down Mackenzie to the centre of town. The streets were pretty much deserted at this time of night on a weekday.
“You know, Mike, I've been thinking. Now that things are getting easier at work, I'm going to spend more time with you and Victor at his camp, especially since the weather's getting better every day. That snowmobiling we did out to Victor's camp was a real treat, and I hear the boating in the summer is incredible.”
Mike grinned and nodded. They were gliding by the Northern Store, and Mike smiled to himself when he recalled his mother's first reaction when she discovered it was
the
store in Inuvik. Continuing on, they passed Ingamo Hall before turning right and driving toward the residential area. Suddenly, Ben hit the brakes and skidded to a stop.
“What's wrong, Dad?”
“I'm not sure, but I thought I saw a light moving in one of the windows at Ingamo Hall.”
Turning left, Ben continued for a block before making another left and then another back onto Mackenzie Road. He came to a halt opposite the hall and stared at the building.
“I don't see anything, Dad.”
“Hmm, neither do I. Maybe it was just the reflection from my lights when I drove past. Still, I think I'll take a walk around the outside of the building just to make sure. You stay here. And I mean that, Mike. Stay here.”
Mike watched his father hop out of the pickup and quietly close the door until the handle clicked. Looking both ways, he walked across the street and up along the right side of the building. His curiosity getting the better of him, Mike got out of the pickup and followed his father, who continued around the back, then stopped at the rear door.
Ben pushed the door, and it moved inward slowly. His father edged cautiously through the doorway, and Mike followed suit when his father disappeared into the building. As he passed through the doorway, Mike didn't see any sign of forced entry, something he knew about from his father. But he did notice that someone had taped over the recess in the lock so that it wouldn't engage when it was closed. As Donnie would say, Mike could feel his Spidey sense tingling. Allowing his eyes to adjust to the light inside the building, Mike moved farther inside, following his father's footsteps.
As Mike quietly moved through the rooms, nothing seemed out of order to him. Nothing was broken or smashed. When his father stopped in the kitchen, Mike hesitated just outside. On the counter there were at least five empty chip bags and cans of pop. When his father opened the fridge and peered inside, Mike saw that it was pretty much empty. From the microwave the smell of fresh popcorn was obvious. What type of thief, though, stopped to pop a bag of popcorn?
Leaving the kitchen, Ben continued his exploration of the rooms. As his father came to one last door, he hesitated again. It was partly open, and Mike saw a dim light flicker beyond the entrance. A television was on! Pushing open the door, Ben turned on the light.
A boy who had been lying on the couch leaped to his feet, wide-eyed and glaring. His fists were clenched, and it was pretty clear by the kid's expression that he was ready to bolt.
“Hey, there,” Ben said, “I'm Sergeant Ben Watson. Watching some TV? I saw a light through the window and thought I'd check it out. If you don't mind, I'm going to sit over here.” He motioned to an easy chair by the wall. Walking over, he casually sat down and turned to the boy. “Look, son, I don't know why you're in here, but right now I just want to talk. Why don't you sit down and we can see how things go?”
Just then Mike stepped into the room. “His name's Joseph Kiktorak, Dad.”
Ben and Joseph both spun in the direction of the new voice.
“Mike, didn't I tell you to stay in the pickup?” Ben asked, almost scowling.
“I know, Dad, but â”
“You know this kid?”
“Yes, he goes to my school.”
During all this, Joseph didn't move. Mike noticed that his face remained tense but that his fingers relaxed as he unclenched his fists. They all stared at one another for several long moments. Then, slowly, Joseph resumed sitting on the couch.
“Pleased to meet you, Joseph,” Ben said.
Joseph grunted.
Looking beyond the boy, Ben nodded at the television. “Jeez, that's quite the set. These big screens are amazing. You've got the Oilers game on. I forgot they played tonight. What's the score?”
Joseph rolled his eyes in the direction of the television but didn't turn away from Ben or Mike. “The Oilers are up 3â2,” he muttered.
Ben smiled. “Against Calgary, too. Battle of Alberta, man. It doesn't get any better.”
The boy gazed at Ben, then quickly averted his eyes.
“Look, son, you know this is a break and enter, even though you haven't really messed anything up in here. You can't just go into places, eat food, and watch TV. That's what you do at home.”
“I live with my granny,” Joseph said, “and she doesn't have a TV. I just wanted to watch the game and then I was going home. I can pay for the chips and stuff. I ⦠I fixed the door with tape this afternoon. Can I go home now?”
“Actually, you can't, son,” Ben said, shaking his head. “First of all, there's only five minutes left in the game and there's no way I'm going to leave before it's finished.”
“I'm all for that!” Mike said a little too enthusiastically.
“I'm sure you are, Mike, but you and I are going to have a talk later about following orders.”
A confused expression spread across Joseph's big face. It was obvious he didn't know how to read this situation.
Ben turned his attention back to Joseph, his face more serious now. “Son, I can't just let this go, though. I have to take you home and talk to your granny. Then I have to decide how we're going to handle all of this. Now let's watch this game and hope the Oilers can hold on.”
Joseph stared at his feet, seemingly not paying attention to the action on the screen. With a minute left in the game the Flames pulled their goalie for a sixth attacker. For a moment Joseph seemed to forget his situation, raised his head, and followed the play as the Oilers held on for the victory.
Ben sighed and slumped back in the chair. “Now that's what they call an old-fashioned barn burner. Do you play hockey, Joseph?”
The boy looked up with passion in his eyes. “I do!” Then he frowned and let his massive shoulders sag. “I did ⦔
Ben nodded thoughtfully. “Were you any good?”
“I'm really good!” the boy said proudly, passion returning to his eyes.
“If you don't mind me asking, why did you quit, son?”
Mike knew the answer but thought it better if Joseph told his own story.
Joseph glanced at Mike, then gazed out the window, his mind appearing to wander off. Ben and Mike sat patiently, not wanting to push the boy for an answer. There was no rush. After a while, Joseph turned back. His eyes were watery, and he seemed close to tears. Taking a deep breath, he asked, “You're the new cop, aren't you?”
Ben nodded. “That's right.”
The boy shrugged. “I got caught smoking pot. You don't have to say it. I know it was stupid. There were scouts, you know? Hockey scouts. They said I had it all. Everything they were looking for. I'm big, I can hit, I can shoot, I'm fast, and for a guy my size I've got pretty good hands.” As if trying to prove the point, he stretched out his fingers.
“It was dumb,” he continued. “I started to feel pretty big. A big fish in a little pond, my granny says. Some of the guys gave me booze and pot and whatever I wanted just to hang out with me. Everybody wanted to be my friend. It felt good, you know? My dad left when I was pretty young. He's from Tuktoyaktuk. I was just a kid with no dad until I found hockey. Then I lost all of that, and my mom had to move to Cambridge Bay for a job within a couple of months. That's when I started to live with my granny. No dad, no mom, no hockey, and no friends.
“It sucks! People suck! People just like you if they want something. Well, screw them all!” He glowered. “I don't need any of them. The same guys who sucked up to me are scared of me now. And that's fine by me. I don't need anybody.” Close to tears once more, the boy turned to the window.
Coughing slightly, Ben got to his feet. “That's pretty harsh, Joseph. I can't imagine how all of that must hurt. But some lessons in life have to hurt, or they really wouldn't be lessons, would they? I don't expect you to answer that. I don't really know what's happened to you in the past. And I just met you tonight and not really under the best circumstances, either, if you know what I mean.”
Ben's grin was infectious and inspired a slight smile from Joseph.
“I barely know you, Joseph,” Ben said, “but you seem like a nice guy. I think you've got a lot of frustration built up inside and no way to let it out. I'll make a deal with you. I know Victor Allen pretty well. You probably know that he's on the Community Justice Committee. They use alternative sentencing, kind of like circle sentencing in some aboriginal communities. Mike and I are going to take you home, but we're not going to bother your granny with this tonight. I'm not going to write up a report, either.”
Joseph stared at the floor and mumbled, “Thanks.”
“You're going to go to school tomorrow and not miss any time there from now on. If you've been skipping any classes, you won't be doing that anymore. Are we clear on that?”
Joseph nodded.
“Okay, then, when I let you know, you'll have to come here and meet with the Community Justice Committee. I'll do my best to work something out with Victor, but you'll likely have to do something to make up for breaking into the hall. Understand, son?”
Joseph nodded. “Thank you, Mr. ⦠uh, Sergeant Watson.”
“You can call me Ben from now on, Joseph. By the way, how old are you?”
“Fourteen.”
“Jeez, you're big for your age,” Ben said. “Mike's fourteen, too, and you make him seem short.”
“C'mon, Dad,” Mike said, “he's not that big!”
When Joseph got to his feet, he towered over Mike, causing everyone, including Mike, to chuckle. Ben then led the boys through the building to the back door. Stepping out, Ben turned to Joseph. “Close the door, son. But do me a favour. Take the tape off before you do.”
Shooting Ben a guilty look, Joseph picked off the tape and stuck it in his pocket before closing the door behind him.
A
t the next meeting of the Community Justice Committee, Ben and Victor spoke on Joseph's behalf. Some of the members were hesitant to provide the big boy with a second chance, but in the end things worked out. Joseph stood quietly while they explained what he would have to do: three months aiding elders with chores, no missing school for any reason, spending time assisting Victor at his camp, and helping Ben with the lacrosse team. It was a lot to expect, but Joseph accepted the verdict politely. Ben explained to Joseph that the lacrosse team had one of its most important practices the next night and that he should arrive at the gym no later than 5:00 p.m. There would be lots to do.
The next evening Mike, Donnie, Tommy, Bobby, Gwen, and the rest of the boys marched down the hall toward the gym. Mike knew what was up, but his father had asked him to say nothing until Joseph actually showed up at the gym. Ben had told the players that practice wouldn't be until 6:00 p.m. and that under no circumstances were they to get there any sooner.
Donnie, anxious as usual, was slightly ahead. Pushing one of the gym doors open, he stopped in his tracks, tugged the door shut again, and turned to face his friends. Mike had seen his eyes when he was excited and knew how big they could get. This time they were literally popping out of his head. His mouth hung open, and he kept mouthing something silently over and over again.
“What?” half of the players cried at the same time.
All Donnie did was motion over his shoulder and sputter.
Mike had a pretty good idea what had shocked Donnie, but he played dumb, anyway. “Jeez, Donnie, for Pete's sake, either spit it out or let us get by and see for ourselves. What's in there?”
Donnie gulped. “The ⦠the ⦠it's the Walrus!”
Now Mike really was stunned. He hadn't expected this. “Are you telling us Todd Lorenz is in there?”
Donnie nodded, but when Mike tried to push past he stopped him. “There's more!”
“What do you mean more?” Tommy demanded.
“Jimmy Quinlan's in there, too!”
“What?” everyone shouted in unison.
As they all shoved against Donnie, he held up his hands. “There's more!”