Timberwolf Hunt

  Timberwolf

  Hunt

  Sigmund Brouwer

  illustrated by Dean Griffiths

  Text copyright © 2007 Sigmund Brouwer

  Illustrations copyright © 2007 Dean Griffiths

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in

  any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

  recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be

  invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Brouwer, Sigmund, 1959-

  Timberwolf hunt / written by Sigmund Brouwer ; illustrated by Dean Griffiths.

  (Orca echoes)

  ISBN 978-1-55143-726-2

  I. Griffiths, Dean, 1967- II. Title. III. Series.

  PS8553.R68467T45 2007 jC813’.54 C2006-907058-X

  First published in the United States, 2007

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2006939249

  Summary: In this third book in the Timberwolves series, Johnny and Stu must figure out

  what to do when the weakest player on their team is getting the most ice time.

  Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs

  provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Book

  Publishing Industry Development Program and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the

  Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council

  and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.

  Typesetting by Christine Toller

  Cover artwork and interior illustrations by Dean Griffiths

  Author photograph by Bill Bilsley.

  ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

  PO Box 5626, Stn. B PO Box 468

  VICTORIA, BC CANADA CUSTER, WA USA

  V8R 6S4 98240-0468

  www.orcabook.com

  Printed and bound in Canada.

  Printed on 100% PCW recycled paper.

  010 09 08 07 • 4 3 2 1

  To Dan Kersey: He shoots, he scores!

  D.G.

  Chapter One

  A Trapped Bat

  “Shut the door!” Stu Duncan said to Johnny Maverick.

  “We need help!”

  Johnny had just walked into the dressing room with his hockey equipment. Stu was his best friend. They played for the Howling Timberwolves. The team was getting ready to play the Grizzlies.

  “I agree that you need help,” Johnny said to Stu. “A doctor should see if you still have a brain.”

  The rest of the players laughed. It looked like Johnny was right.

  Stu was standing in the middle of the room. His hockey bag was at his feet. He was holding a hockey stick straight up. He was pushing the butt end of the

  stick against the bottom of a plastic bucket. It pressed the top of the bucket against the ceiling.

  “I’m standing here for a good reason,” Stu said. “I have trapped a bat under the bucket.”

  “A bat?” Johnny said. “A hairy bat? With wings? And fangs?”

  “Bats don’t have fangs,” Stu said.

  “Yes, they do,” Johnny said. “Big fangs. Dripping with blood. You should see them in my comic books.”

  “Johnny,” Stu said, “I hate to break it to you. It’s like Santa Claus.”

  “Santa Claus has fangs in your comic books?” Johnny said. “Cool. Can I borrow your comic books?”

  “No,” Stu said, “Santa Claus is not real. Just like the bats in your comic books. Real bats don’t have fangs. Now can you help me?”

  Johnny put down his hockey bag. “Sure.”

  “Good,” Stu said. “Hold this stick and press it hard against the bucket. Keep the bat trapped while I get Mr. Gregg.”

  Mr. Gregg was in charge of the arena. He ran the ice-cleaning machine and cleaned the dressing rooms.

  “I can get Mr. Gregg if you like,” Johnny said.

  “Please hold the stick,” Stu said. “Let me get Mr. Gregg. My arms are tired. I don’t want the bat to get loose.”

  “All right,” Johnny said. “Just make sure that Mr. Gregg doesn’t bring Stinky with him. That would be worse than a bat with fangs.”

  Stinky was Mr. Gregg’s dog. It was big and fat and slow. Everyone in the town of Howling knew about Stinky. They knew there was a good reason that Stinky was called Stinky.

  “I want to live,” Stu said. “I’ll make sure Stinky does not come into the dressing room with Mr. Gregg. Now will you hold this bucket for me?”

  Johnny took the stick.

  Stu stepped away.

  “Hey,” Johnny said. He looked up at the bucket. “This is heavy!”

  Stu did not answer. He pulled his own hockey bag away from Johnny. He moved Johnny’s hockey bag closer to Johnny’s feet.

  “This bucket is heavy!” Johnny said again. “It must be a really big bat!”

  “The bucket is filled with water,” Stu said. He laughed. “Don’t let go or you will get wet! And you will get your hockey bag wet too!”

  Everyone else laughed too.

  “Water?” Johnny said. He pushed the hockey stick hard against the bottom of the bucket. He did not want to get wet. He did not want to get his hockey bag wet. “You played a trick on me.”

  “It’s a good trick. But it wasn’t my idea. It was Tom’s.”

  Tom Morgan was another friend. Johnny had once made him wear a dress to a hockey game, but that was another story.

  “Tom’s idea?” Johnny said.

  Tom was in the corner of the room. He grinned.

  “Yes, Johnny,” Tom said, “we’ve played this trick on everyone. They all had turns holding the stick. Stu was the guy who came in just before you did.”

  “Great,” Johnny said. The bucket was heavy. He didn’t want all the water to drop on him. He kept pushing hard against the bottom of the bucket. “I’m the last guy.”

  “No,” Tom said, “you are the second last guy. Remember? While Coach Smith is gone, we have a new coach who just moved to Howling. I heard his son plays hockey too.”

  “Right,” Johnny said. “His son is Eldridge Elwell.”

  Just then, a new kid walked into the dressing room with his hockey bag.

  “Hi,” the new kid said. He was not too tall and not too short. Not too fat and not too skinny. He had dark hair. He also had a shy smile. “My name is Eldridge. My dad is the new coach. He is going to be here in a few minutes. He just had to park his truck.”

  “Hi,” Johnny said to the new kid. “Glad you’re here. I need your help.”

  “Sure,” Eldridge said. “What is it?”

  “Well,” Johnny said, “I’ve got a bat trapped under this bucket. Can you keep it trapped while I go get Mr. Gregg? He is in charge of the arena.”

  “Yes,” Eldridge said, “I’ll help.”

  “Good,” Johnny said. “Hold this stick and press it hard against the bucket.”

  Chapter Two

  Don’t Make the Coach Mad!

  “Eldridge,” Coach Elwell said. He had just walked into the room. “What are you doing?”

  Coach Elwell was a big man. His head was half bald. He had a moustache. He was wearing a suit and a tie. It was the first time the players had seen him. He was Coach Smith’s new boss. Coach Elwell was going to be their coach for four weeks while Coach Smith was on vacation. Coach Smith never wore a suit and a tie. Coach Smith would be back for playoffs.

  “I’m holding this bucket up against the ceiling,” Eldridge said. “If I let go, it—”

  “I can see you’re pushing a stick up against a bucket,” Coach Elwell said. He had a big voi
ce to match his big size. “Didn’t I tell you that the first thing you needed to do was fill the water bottles?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Don’t make excuses,” Coach Elwell said. “I expect you to listen to me. Now put that hockey stick down right away.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Young man, I just said I expect you to listen to me.”

  “Excuse me,” Johnny said to Coach Elwell. “I can explain.”

  “Did I ask you to interrupt?” Coach Elwell said to Johnny. “All of you should learn right now that I don’t like to be interrupted.”

  “Yes,” Johnny said, “but you should let us help Eldridge with the bucket or—”

  “Enough,” Coach Elwell said to Johnny. “Or you will be benched for the whole game. Players don’t tell coaches what to do.”

  Johnny didn’t say another word. He did not want to be benched.

  All of the other players were quiet too. Coach Elwell was big. Coach Elwell had a big voice.

  Coach Elwell looked at Eldridge. Eldridge was still pushing the bucket against the ceiling. “Put that down this minute!”

  “But if I let go of the stick—”

  “When will you learn that I don’t like back talk?” Coach Elwell said. “Players don’t tell coaches what to do. Sons don’t tell fathers what to do.”

  He stepped right up to Eldridge.

  “I want you to fill the water bottles,” Coach Elwell said to Eldridge. He put his hand on the hockey stick. “Do it now!”

  Eldridge held on tight to the hockey stick. “But—”

  “Enough!” Coach Elwell said. He yanked the stick from Eldridge’s hands. The bucket at the top of the stick fell from the ceiling. It landed on Coach Elwell’s head.

  It made a clunking sound on his skull. It fit over his head like a helmet. The water soaked his suit and tie.

  The room was very quiet.

  Except for Johnny Maverick. He remembered what Scooby-Doo would say when something like this happened.

  “Ruh-Roh!” Johnny Maverick said in his best Scooby-Doo voice.

  Stu and Tom giggled. Coach Elwell had a bucket over his head. He was still holding the hockey stick. His suit was very wet. The rest of the players started to giggle too.

  Coach Elwell pulled the bucket off his head. His moustache looked like a drowned mouse.

  The room became very quiet again.

  “Who played this trick on Eldridge?” he asked. His voice sounded like thunder. He was big and he looked angry.

  “He did!” Johnny said, pointing at Tom.

  “He did!” Tom said, pointing at Johnny.

  “That’s it!” Coach Elwell said. “You are both benched for the whole game. You will watch it from the stands.”

  Chapter Three

  The Stinkiest Dog in the World

  “Tom,” Johnny said. He and Tom were sitting in the stands. “You are disgusting.”

  The referee was ready to drop the puck. The hockey game between the out-of-town Grizzlies and the hometown Howling Timberwolves was about to begin. Eldridge Elwell was starting at center ice for the Timberwolves. Usually Tom started the game.

  “The bucket with water seemed like a good idea at the time,” Tom said. “I already told you I’m sorry. How could I know that Coach Elwell would grab the stick?”

  “Not that,” Johnny said. He sniffed the air. He gagged. “I mean really. Did you have ten pounds of beans for breakfast? You should go into a bathroom if it’s that bad.”

  Tom sniffed the air too. “Yuck, that is disgusting. I promise, it wasn’t me.”

  Tom and Johnny looked at each other.

  Then they looked down at the floor beneath the stands.

  “It’s Stinky,” Johnny said, groaning. “Wow. They don’t call him that for nothing.”

  The stands in the arena were the kind that could be pushed back. There was a lot of space beneath them. Often there would be popcorn and litter on the cement floor. Sometimes little kids walked around under the stands looking for lost coins.

  Sure enough, there was Stinky. Mr. Gregg’s dog was big and fat and slow. And stinky.

  Stinky looked up. He saw the boys looking down. He wagged his tail. Maybe they would drop a piece of hot dog by mistake. No one ever dropped food on purpose if Stinky was around.

  “Don’t feed him,” Johnny said. “Then he will follow us no matter where we sit.”

  Stinky made a long rude noise. The long rude noise didn’t come from his front end. Right away the bad smell reached Johnny and Tom.

  “Yuck,” Tom said. “There he goes again.”

  It was bad enough that they had been benched from the game. Now this?

  Tom and Johnny jumped up. They moved to another part of the stands. Just as they sat down, Eldridge Elwell skated into the Grizzlies’ zone.

  He fell.

  He got up. He chased the Grizzlies’ center.

  He fell. He got up.

  “The new player doesn’t look that good,” Johnny said. He wasn’t being mean. He was just stating it like a fact.

  “Yes,” Tom said, “he needs some different equipment.”

  “What equipment?” Johnny asked.

  “He needs a pillow on his butt,” Tom said.

  Eldridge got up just in time to receive a pass from one

  of the Timberwolves’ wingers. The puck landed on his stick. He fell again. It looked like the puck had knocked him over. The Grizzlies’ defenseman took the puck and skated to center. The Grizzlies’ center stayed close with Eldridge.

  The Grizzlies’ defenseman passed the puck to a winger. Suddenly, it was a four on two.

  The wingers for the Timberwolves tried to catch up. They couldn’t. Eldridge tried to catch up. He fell again.

  In the Timberwolves’ end, the Grizzlies’ center dropped back. If Eldridge had been able to keep up, he would have been guarding the Grizzlies’ center. Instead the center was wide open for a pass.

  The Grizzlies’ winger dropped the puck back to the Grizzlies’ center.

  He was all alone. He took a big slap shot. It bounced off the Timberwolves’ goalie. But a Grizzlies winger was there for the rebound. He knocked it into the net.

  Just like that, the Timberwolves were down 1–0. Less than thirty seconds had passed after the start of the game.

  “Great,” Johnny said to Tom. “You’re one of the best players in the league. Without you, the team is in trouble.”

  “You’re one of the best players in the league too,” Tom said. “How much worse can it get that we are both benched?”

  They heard a loud rude noise.

  Johnny sniffed the air. He wanted to throw up.

  Tom sniffed the air. He wanted to throw up too.

  “That’s your answer,” Tom said, pointing down at the floor under the stands. Even though they had not given Stinky any food, he had followed them. Stinky wagged his tail, hoping for some food. “It can get a lot worse.”

  Chapter Four

  Honk! Honk!

  “Here he comes,” Tom whispered to Johnny. “Remember, if we talk to Eldridge when he sits down, he won’t notice our trick.”

  “You shouldn’t do it,” Stu said. “It’s not his fault.”

  Tom and Johnny and Stu were in their classroom. They were waiting for the bell to ring and for the teacher to arrive. Eldridge Elwell had just walked through the door.

  Eldridge saw Tom and Johnny and Stu standing by his desk.

  “Hey, guys,” he said. He put his books on his desk.

  “Sit down,” Tom said. “We want to talk to you.”

  Eldridge sat down. The plan had worked. Eldridge was so busy looking at them that he had not looked down at his chair.

  “Sure guys,” Eldridge said. “What is it?”

  “The Howling Timberwolves have lost four games in a row,” Tom said. “You need to do something about it. Now we have to win two out of our last three games. Otherwise we won’t make the playoffs.”

  “I try my har
dest,” Eldridge said. “I’m just not a good player like you guys.”

  Stu nodded. Stu wasn’t the best player either. He knew what Eldridge felt like.

  “We know you try hard,” Johnny said. “We like you on our team. But you have to do something about your dad before our game tonight.”

  “My dad?”

  “Yes,” Tom said, “your dad is the coach. He puts you on the ice more than any other player.”

  This was true. When the Timberwolves had a power play, Coach Elwell put Eldridge on the ice. When the Timberwolves were shorthanded, Coach Elwell put Eldridge on the ice. The other coach had always put Johnny and Tom on the ice together to kill penalties or for power plays. But Coach Elwell always made one of them sit on the bench while Eldridge played.

  “I am sorry about that,” Eldridge said.

  “Sorry isn’t good enough,” Tom said. Tom hated losing games. “You should tell him you don’t want to play as much. You don’t want the team to keep losing, do you?”

  “I don’t,” Eldridge said.

  “Do you like being part of the team?” Johnny asked. He felt sorry for Eldridge too.

  “Yes,” Eldridge said.

  “Do you agree the team would play better if you didn’t get so much ice time?” Johnny asked.

  “Yes,” Eldridge said. “Do you think I like making mistakes when better players should be on the ice?”

  “So we agree,” Johnny said. “You’ll talk to your dad.”

  “I will think about it,” Eldridge said.

  “See?” Stu said. “I told you Eldridge was a good guy. We don’t need to—”

  “Thinking about it isn’t good enough,” Tom said to Eldridge. Tom hated losing games. “Otherwise things will get worse for you.”

  “Worse?” Eldridge asked.

  “Worse,” Tom said. “We like you on our team. You have to help the team win two out of our last three games. We want to make the playoffs.”

  Before Tom could say anything else, the bell rang. The teacher, Mr. Griswald, walked into the classroom. He took attendance.