Off the Crossbar (2 page)

“Hey, I got some toe jam for you to nibble on.”

“Nah. I’ll leave it for you. I know how much you love it.”

“I could scrape some crust from my armpits.”

Charlie stood in the doorway of the classroom, listening to the four boys dissing each other. He recognized them from the pickup game. He checked the number on the door and looked at the schedule in his binder. This was definitely his homeroom. He braced himself and walked in, sitting as far away from the four boys as he could.

They took no notice of Charlie at first, and carried on with their trash talk. The rest of the class was quiet and subdued, probably intimidated by them. It didn’t take long for Charlie to put names to the faces. Jake was the guy who’d tripped him after he scored the goal, and it seemed that he was the leader of this little gang. The rest of them took their cues from him, always laughing at his jokes, agreeing to whatever he said. Jake had a rather
menacing figure. Tall and well built for his age, he had dark, intense brown eyes framed by pronounced eyebrows, short jet-black hair, and an angular face. He wore oversized jeans, basketball shoes, and a Los Angeles Lakers jersey.

Matt sat next to Jake. He’d been the one in the Montreal Canadiens sweater. He was a short, stocky boy, very muscular, with curly black hair, a thin face, and large deep blue eyes. Sitting on a desk behind them were Liam, the lanky goal-scoring forward, and Thomas, the defenceman who wouldn’t pass Charlie the puck.

Off to the side, looking uncomfortable, but laughing with the others, was the boy who told Charlie that his mother was waiting in the lobby. He was chubby, his complexion pale, almost pink. He seemed soft all over, an impression reinforced by his large, round face, which was covered in freckles. The boys called him Pudge, if they spoke to him at all.

Charlie had just opened his binder to check on his classes for the rest of the day when Liam spotted him. He elbowed Jake to draw his attention to the fact, and said aloud to his friends, “There’s the dude from the hockey game who can’t stand up.”

“Maybe he’s here to meet some real players,” Jake said.

Charlie pretended not to hear, keeping his gaze fixed on his schedule. He felt his face flush, however, and butterflies started to act up in his stomach.

“I think the guy’s too dumb to understand you,” Thomas said.

“I think he wet his pants and is too embarrassed to
talk,” Matt added.

They all laughed, and Charlie felt himself flush even deeper.

Charlie realized he had to do something. He turned his head sideways, as if he could barely be bothered with them, and then, looking Jake squarely in the eyes, raised both eyebrows mockingly. The two of them watched each other for a good ten seconds before Charlie turned back to his schedule.

Liam elbowed Jake in the side again. “I think he likes you.”

Jake was about to say something when a man entered the classroom. In three strides he was behind the teacher’s desk. He took a moment to arrange some papers, which gave Charlie a chance to study him more closely. He had to be at least six feet tall, athletic, with broad shoulders and a thick chest. Charlie was impressed by his commanding presence. The rest of the class apparently felt the same way, because everyone straightened up in their chairs and sat quietly, even the four rowdy boys who had been harassing him.

“My name is Mr. William Hilton,” he said. He paused for a moment, and then added with a slight twinkle in his eyes, “but you can call me Mr. Hilton.” The class laughed politely, and he continued. “I will be your English teacher this year; this will also be your homeroom.”

Suddenly he broke off and turned to his right to face Jake and Liam, who had started whispering to each other.

“I’d appreciate your full attention,” he said forcefully. They immediately stopped whispering to each other and
looked up anxiously. Hilton smiled slightly, but without warmth, and turned back to the class.

“I’m going to hand out the syllabus in a moment and go over it with you, but first I’d like to lay out some very simple and straightforward rules. First, get here on time, or go to the office and get a late slip. Don’t come in late and wait for me to ask, and please don’t try to sneak in when I’m not looking. Second, please be quiet during announcements and when I am speaking. And that’s just about it. Only two rules, so I don’t expect them to be broken, at least not too often.”

He pointed at a girl sitting in the front row. “You’re Julia Chow, right?”

She nodded.

“Didn’t you play hockey last year on the Thunderbirds? I think my niece Sarah played with you.”

“That’s right,” she giggled.

“I remember. I saw you play, and I might have even met you at Sarah’s house. At least this means I have one less name to remember. It also means I am going to pick on you right now and ask if you would come up here and hand out the syllabus to the class.”

Julia got up to get the papers.

“While we’re on the subject of hockey,” he continued, “I should mention that tryouts for the high school tournament are starting tomorrow. Terrence Falls usually has a girls’ and a boys’ team in both the junior and senior draws. I expect this year will be no different. Last year I had the privilege of coaching the girls’ teams. Ms Cummings will be taking over that duty this year.” He
nodded at Julia, who had sat down. “Julia, I have no doubt, will be on the junior team — I regret that I won’t have the opportunity to coach you, Julia. She could probably teach a few of you guys a thing or two about goal scoring, believe me.”

Julia blushed deeply and looked down at her desk.

“Anyway, I have been given the opportunity to coach the junior boys’ team, so if there’s anyone here who plays hockey, and happens to be a boy, then I invite you to come out and give it a shot, and also mention it to your friends. I’ve attached a notice to the cafeteria bulletin board.”

“When’s practice?” Jake called out.

Hilton didn’t answer right away. “When you ask a question, I’d appreciate it if you would put your hand up first,” he said finally. “Since this is our first class together, I’ll cut you some slack. The first practice is tomorrow at 4:15 at the Ice Palace, right after school.” He smiled wryly, adding, “I can expect to see you on the ice, then?”

“I was the captain of the grade eight team at Humewood Junior High and of my Triple-A peewee team, so yeah, I think so,” Jake replied.

Hilton appeared to consider the information carefully before replying. “Would you be Jake Wilkenson, by any chance?”

“You got that right.”

“That’s terrific,” Hilton said coldly. “I look forward to seeing you out there.” He reached for a clipboard on his desk and wrote something. “Jake, you have the honour of being the first name on the tryout list. Congratulations.”

He held up the clipboard for all to see. Jake’s name was written on the top of a blank sheet of lined paper.

“You may as well put me down as number nine,” Jake said. “That’s my number. It’s always been my number.”

Hilton tapped his clipboard with his pen. “Number nine is quite the number, Jake — Gordie Howe, Bobby Hull, Johnny Bucyk, not to mention Gretzky, who needed two of them.”

“Not a problem,” Jake said laughing, his friends joining in.

Matt put up his hand.

“Yes?” Hilton asked.

“While you’re at it, you should add Matt Danko to your list. And I’m number ten.”

“Put down Thomas Biggs, number four.”

“And Liam Johnson, number fourteen.”

Hilton held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hold on a minute, boys. First off, numbers will be handed out when the team is picked. Grade nine and ten students are eligible for the junior team, so the competition will be tough. Why don’t I just leave this on my desk and you can sign it after class. If you make the team, then we’ll worry about numbers, all right?”

They nodded and grinned at each other.

“Excuse me, Mr. Hilton.” The door opened slightly, and a man with a shock of grey hair, bushy grey eyebrows and long grey sideburns poked his head into the narrow opening. It was the school principal, Nathan Holmes. “I am so terribly sorry for interrupting, but I do rather need to discuss an important matter with you. Would your
students mind if I borrowed you for a moment?”

“Of course,” Hilton replied. The door closed, and Hilton rolled his neck, taking a deep breath. “I’ll be right back. Try not to create too much havoc while I’m gone. I’d recommend looking over the syllabus, so that we can get right into it.” With that he nodded and walked out into the hall.

The students began to talk quietly among themselves. Jake and his gang first began to discuss who would make the team, calling out names and deciding who didn’t have a chance. The discussion then turned to their teacher and coach. Charlie tried not to listen, but he couldn’t help overhear Liam say that he heard Hilton had been a star junior player. He had played with the Canadian junior team, and had even been drafted by the Boston Bruins. Charlie found his tone rather disrespectful. Liam made it sound as if Hilton was a loser who couldn’t make it in the big leagues.

Pudge got up and stood at the back of the class, looking out the window at the schoolyard, kicking the floor absentmindedly with the heel of his right shoe. He slowly wandered along the window, running his hand across the heating vent, until he came close to Charlie. He stood there, not saying a word, until finally Charlie asked if he wanted something.

“Oh no,” Pudge replied, as if he’d been caught doing something wrong. “Just wondered. Are you going to try out for the team?”

“I didn’t know about it until now.”

“Every year the eight high schools from the district
have a tournament. Not every school sends a junior and senior team, but we do. Anyway, the tournament starts in two weeks. It’s called the Champions Cup. Our school has a regular hockey team, but it’s not very competitive since most of the best players play rep hockey. The tournament is totally intense. Everyone comes out for the games, and we have some pretty good rivalries going, especially with Chelsea.”

“Are they any good?” Charlie asked.

“They’ve won the tournament, junior and senior, for the past five years.” He lowered his voice. “I bet our junior team has a bunch of grade nines on it. The grade tens aren’t supposed to be very good. Anyway, a lot of the guys think with the new grade nines, we have a good chance. You saw a bunch of them play at that pickup game.” He pointed at the four boys at the other side of the room. “Those guys over there will definitely make the team. They’re probably the best grade nine players at the school, especially Jake. Our senior team should be really strong this year too. We’ve got this awesome guy, Karl Schneider — he’ll definitely be captain — so our senior team has a chance to win.” Pudge paused and looked out the window, and then added suddenly, “You looked good at the pickup game, so you should give it a shot.”

Charlie had assumed Pudge was part of Jake’s gang, but now he wasn’t sure. He seemed genuine and friendly. Charlie wondered if he should try out for a team that would be dominated by those four guys. He knew bullies when he saw them, and he also knew that Jake had taken a dislike to him.

“I’m going to think about it,” Charlie answered. “The thing is that we just moved to Terrence Falls, into a new house and all, and with school and everything I don’t think I’ll have much free time. Thanks for the info, though, all the same.”

“What info?” a voice asked harshly.

Charlie and Pudge turned in unison to see Jake sitting on his desk glaring at them indignantly. Pudge’s face became bright red, and when he tried to speak, nothing came out. Finally, he said nervously, “I was just filling him in on the tournament team, like how it’s organized, and Chelsea winning every year, and Karl Schneider. I don’t know if you remember, but Charlie played yesterday at the Ice Palace.”

Jake smirked. “I can remember all the way back to yesterday, Pudge,” he said. “From what I saw, he shouldn’t waste his energy.” He looked over at Charlie. “Why don’t you try out for something else.”

“We need a towel boy,” Thomas quipped. “Maybe he could do that.”

Liam burst out laughing and added, “Or maybe he could fill the water bottles before practice, and serve us snacks afterwards to keep our energy up.”

“I could use a skate tightener,” Jake said dryly.

The rest of the class roared — Thomas, Liam and Matt the loudest. Charlie felt that familiar flush rise in his face. He hated when that happened. He knew he couldn’t flinch now, or he’d be a target for abuse for the rest of high school. He fought to keep his cool, turned towards them as nonchalantly as he could manage, and started to
laugh. It was not a loud laugh — it was more dismissive — and it sent the message that Charlie Joyce was the kind of guy who didn’t care in the least what anyone thought of him.

That quieted the students down. Charlie gathered himself and said, “The coach said the team hasn’t been picked. Let’s talk after the tryouts — and by the way, I’m number eight.”

Charlie’s response prompted a nervous tittering from the class. Jake and his friends seemed too surprised to say anything at first. They hadn’t expected Charlie to stand up to them.

Jake was the first to speak. “It looks like the water boy’s a tough guy,” he fired back.

“I think he has a death wish too,” Thomas added.

“Hey guys, take it easy,” Pudge intervened, his face blushing furiously. “I mean, we’ll probably all be on the same team, and like I said, I was just telling him about the tournament.”

“Shut up, Pudge,” Jake ordered. “When I need your opinion, I’ll send you an e-mail.”

Pudge made his way back to his seat and sat down without a word.

“As for you,” Jake said, pointing his finger at Charlie, “I’d advise you to watch your big mouth, or go back where you came from. The tournament team’s for hockey players, and you’re not qualified.”

Matt called out, “You could always join the needlepoint club or the chess team. Maybe they have tournaments coming up.”

“If it’s hockey players the coach wants, then why would
you
be trying out?” Charlie said.