Picks and Sticks Page 8

  “Came to play.”

  “How’d you know about us?”

  “Rumour.” Tina smiled slowly at Susan. “Player’s intuition,” Susan said, grinning. Jane looked back at Ivan. He nodded.

  “Put your skates on, then,” Jane said, accepting them point-­blank. Tina sat to take off her snowshoes. The other girls followed her lead. When she was half-­finished, Tina said, “This is my sister, Rose. Those are Lily, Leslie, and Laura Rice.”

  The trio of sisters made no acknowledgement of the introduction, but worked quickly to take off their snowshoes and lace up their skates. Their long black hair, filled with tiny icicles from their freezing snowmobile ride across the ice, curtained their almost identical, round faces. They were ready so quickly, it was clear they had done this many times before. While Tina finished her laces, Jane asked, “Did you snowmobile across the Big Sound?”

  “Yup.”

  “Isn’t that dangerous?”

  “It’s frozen.”

  Tina put on a homemade goalie mask, got up, and skated to the goal crease. Ivan got the girls ready to take shots. They flew at Tina from all angles, snagging rebounds, passing, and getting back into position. Jane analyzed them. Rose was a left-­winger. The Rice sisters were fast and skilled, but were unable to score. Barb managed one shot on goal. Wendy managed a weak wrist shot. Only Jane was successful at getting anything past Tina: a blistering slap shot between her legs; Tina, fortified by her Eaton’s catalogues, was a brick wall.

  As Jane circled around the net, Irina tugged at her jersey and smiled. Her smile was so rare and beautiful, it took Jane by surprise.

  “Some good luck!” Irina exclaimed.

  “For sure!” Irina almost sounded Canadian. They each took deep breaths and raced each other around the pond and back to Tina. Jane was the first to slap her fake goalie pads. “We’ll have to get you some real ones,” Jane said. Tina grinned and said, “Naw. These are my friends.”

  After a scant fifteen minutes with the girls from the reservation, a distracted Jane realized the time: six-­thirty. The figure skaters were already half an hour late and counting. She told Ivan, who blew his whistle. He left the ice. The three figure skaters tore off their skates and equipment to reveal figure skating dresses underneath. As Ivan, Jane, Wendy, and Barb put on their parkas and prepared to leave, Tina shyly asked, “Mind if the rest of us stay, Coach?”

  “Is not my pond,” Ivan stated.

  “Okay,” she said, and skated back to the net.

  “Just don’t miss school,” he flung back at the remaining players. “Especially you, Irina.”

  “I’ll give her a ride on my snowmobile,” Tina offered.

  Irina’s smile lit up the morning.

  “So you’re recruiting now?” Jane challenged Susan as they walked out of English class, her joints aching from the morning of bone-­numbing hockey practising, and mind-­numbing chastising from Leonard. Wendy and Barb skipped figure skating practice altogether, heading home to warm their aching toes. Jane pretended she had slept in. Her body was tired, and her jumps had been shaky, especially her combination. Leonard yelled a lot, and her cranky mother, arriving from her graveyard shift, had grounded her for two days.

  “Someone has to recruit,” Susan snapped.

  “I’m worried the rumour will spread too far,” Jane said, stopping Susan with a hand on her arm. “I can’t get found out, you know?”

  “Well, it’s gotta spread far enough for us to make a team.”

  “True.” Jane did a quick calculation in her head. “But we’ve got fourteen now. That’s enough.”

  “You’re just mad that you didn’t think of Tina. I could tell she was a player from way back.”

  “No. That’s not it. I’m just worried … You saw how Leonard was the last time …”

  “You’re a little screwed up, eh?”

  “No. I know what I want. I want to play. You just … saw how it was. I really don’t need the hassle. The fewer people who know …”

  “Maybe you need to make a choice,” Susan said.

  “That’s impossible and you know it,” Jane retorted. Yet, she recognized the truth in Susan’s words. They walked toward the science classroom. “How could you tell Tina could play?” she asked, deflecting.

  “I told you. Intuition.”

  Jane thought about Tina’s quiet presence in class, her don’t-­say-­anything-­until-­you’ve-­got-­something-­important-­to-­say attitude. She’d always admired Tina’s calmness and composure, but she was hard to read; she never gave anything away. Her personality seemed submerged behind the calm exterior. “I’m sure Tina’s always thought I’m some kind of ice princess,” said Jane reflectively. “We’ve never had anything to do with one another.”

  “You are an ice princess,” Susan said. “You could easily have tried harder to get to know her.”

  Jane bristled, but held her tongue. “Well, now we have something in common,” she said. “We’ll have something to talk about.”

  “Yeah,” Susan allowed. They walked on a few paces.

  “I had no idea playing on a team could be so fun,” Jane said.

  Susan flicked a glance at her. “Me, neither. It’s the best thing there is.”

  After a week of freezing dark mornings on the pond, a daylight practice opportunity presented itself. Report cards were coming up, and a day had been scheduled off school. The temperature hovered just above the freezing mark — typical during the January thaw — and the sky was very blue. Layers of clothing were abandoned. Jane was giggling hysterically beneath her new-­fangled helmet, pushing Irina playfully as they jumped the snowbanks and competed to fish out the buried puck. Snow flew everywhere.

  “JANE!”

  It was her brother. Three boys were standing with him at the edge of the pond.

  “I figured you’d be here,” Mike said.

  “You figured right. Proud?”

  “What’s up, Ivan?” George asked, staring out at the circle of girls, and at the snow-­covered Jane in particular.

  “Oh. Hello, George, Mike,” Ivan answered warily. “What you doing here?”

  “Susan told us to come,” Trevor piped in.

  Ivan glanced sharply at Susan. George, Trevor, Mike, and their buddy, Pierre, continued to gawk.

  “Holy cow. Those are girls under them helmets,” said Trevor, stating the obvious.

  “Well, what did you expect?” Susan tossed back.

  “Cool,” said George. “We’re cool.”

  “Mom’s wondering where you took off to,” Mike said to Jane. “Leonard came by. He booked you an extra practice for today.”

  “Oh,” Jane said. “What did you tell them?”

  “That I didn’t know where you were.”

  “Do I have to go?”

  “Leonard left. He gave up.”

  “Oh.”

  “Mom’s really mad. You’re gonna get grounded again.”

  “Yeah.”

  Ivan turned to her. “Jane,” he said, “you tell me you have permission to play.”

  “No … I … I was going to tell you …” Jane hung her head. She had felt a little sick each time she had lied to Ivan when he asked about her mother’s attitude toward her hockey. She was glad the truth was out. She tried to explain: “My soul is here, Ivan.” Her coach stared, at a loss. “I … I can take the heat,” she continued lamely. “I’ll say I was out with friends …”

  Ivan shook his head. “You should go,” he said. “I don’t like these lies.”

  “Naw. Leave her,” Mike said. “She’s just impossible. You’ll know when she gets found out ’cause she won’t show up anymore.”

  Ivan nodded at Mike, then eyed the rest of his mates. “Well then, come boys,” he suddenly invited. “You play little game of pick-­up with us? Was this your plan, Susan?
”

  Susan nodded enthusiastically.

  “Don’t wanna hurt them,” Mike mumbled.

  “It’ll be all right,” said Ivan, “just — you boys can do no checking. Okay? Go get ready.”

  Mike shrugged his consent. “Come on, George,” he said, nudging his still-­gaping friend. “Stop starin’ at my sister.”

  Jolted, George threw down the net he was carrying, and put on his goalie mask and gloves. He took them off again, having forgotten to take off his boots and put on his skates. Jane watched him, amused. George threw on his goalie pads, put on his skates as fast as he could, and joined Trevor and Jane at centre ice, unfazed by the fact that he was a goalie and Ivan was about to drop the puck.

  “Hey, Jane,” he said.

  “Hi, George.”

  “George,” said Trevor, “go set up yer net, fer Pete’s sake, we’re ready.”

  “Yeah.” George stood still for a few seconds more, staring at Jane.

  “You look beautiful in that red helmet,” he said. “Almost as good as you do in your red figure skating dress.”

  “What?” she said, laughing.

  “It goes nicely with your hair.”

  “Thank you. I think.”

  “Come on, George,” Ivan said. “We play.”

  “Yeah.” George backed away, and then hurried toward Jane again.

  “I watched you win that competition a while back, Jane. You were in your red dress then. You know, the one with that choker-­necklace collar and the … um … opening at your …” He gestured at her general chest area. Jane laughed again. He swallowed, and continued hoarsely. “Your program was exquisite.”

  “Yeah. You told me that before.”

  “We play now?” nudged Ivan. George backed away, eyes on Trevor and Jane.

  “Good luck, Jane,” he said. Then he shot out, “Trevor never once watched you skate!”

  “I know!” Jane laughed. “You told me that before, too!”

  George walked up onto the snow, grabbed his net, and set it up while Jane stood watching him. He’s got a crush on me, she admitted to herself. When George was ready, Ivan positioned his players, with Jane at center. Mike abandoned his usual center position, moving to left wing so Irina would have to guard him. Trevor faced Jane. As Ivan was about to drop the puck, Mike distracted Jane by moving closer to Irina, crossing one leg in front of her skates, then his stick ahead of hers. She did the same and moved even closer. They crowded the centre. Ivan blew his whistle to separate them and inched them back. They did it again, and Irina giggled as her father blew the whistle again. She jostled Mike back to their starting position. We’ll never get going, Jane, the matchmaker, thought contentedly. But Ivan scowled at them and was finally able to drop the puck.

  “MIKE! YOU SEEN JANE?”

  Both kids looked up, their cheeks red from exertion, the puck between them, and continued elbowing each other. Jane was beaming until she saw her mother. She watched Deb take in the scene, judge it, and get ready to blow. Jane had envisioned that look of disappointment on her mother’s face for weeks. She willed herself to be numb to the inevitable tirade. Numbness eluded her; dread crowded in.

  “Jane!! Jane … what are you … what are you doing?” The game came to a halt. Each player straightened up, nervous. Jane couldn’t move. She wanted to jump over the snowbank, get on a snowmobile, and drive across the Big Sound. She fantasized of escape while Ivan skated over to Deb. Jane listened to her own choppy breath. When Mike elbowed her roughly, she started, took off her helmet, and skated to her mother. Mike slowly followed. Players everywhere stood riveted.

  “Hi, Mom,” Jane said simply.

  “What on earth are you doing?” Deb was turning from white to red. Mike tried to interject.

  “Mom — ”

  “Be quiet, Michael.”

  Jane spoke, trying to sound normal.

  “We’re, um, just having some fun. Ivan and uh, I … got this group of girls together, and um, well, we’re just learning some skills — ”

  “Hockey skills?”

  “Uh. Yeah.”

  “You could get hurt so easily.”

  “Oh. I’ve been careful. I thought … I thought maybe Leonard already told you and you … you were okay with it.”

  “He knows about this?”

  “Uh. Yeah. He, um, saw me at the arena one morning a while back and uh, said he was going to tell you and then you didn’t mention it, and so I just kept on … doing it ’cause I guess I figured you thought it was okay …”

  “Why would I ever think that, Jane? Why would you ever think I would?”

  “I guess I was just hopeful … How did you find us?”

  “Instinct.”

  Mother and daughter stared at one another, at an impasse. Deb pressed forward. “Len called just now, so excited. Gerald Finch from the national office wants you to move up to the senior level of competition, permanently. No more junior. A senior, Jane! Linda Johnson injured her shoulder in practice and she can’t skate. So, as alternate, you move up!”

  Jane stood speechless, her mind reeling. Her heart felt like it was splitting in two, one half dying, one half soaring. Only Wendy and Barb, standing awkwardly nearby, understood the significance. The figure skating powers-­that-­be had faith that Jane had the innate artistry and skills to go all the way.

  “Bud’s godforsaken place.” Deb gesticulated wildly at the pond. “This — this is crazy. I will not allow you to blow this opportunity.” She laced into Ivan. “Did it never occur to you that she would not be allowed to do this?”

  “I am sorry, Mrs. Matagov. Until today, I thought you knew.”

  “You were deceived. Jane is not coming back here,” she said forcefully. She turned on Jane again. “Canadians start in five days! Five days! Skating and school, that’s it for you. Now take that ridiculous equipment off and let’s go.”

  “Mom. Wait …”

  “Don’t cross me now, Jane. Not now.”

  “Are you sleeping with my coach?” Jane asked loudly.

  “What? Don’t you dare try that again!”

  Mike tried to stop her. “Jane …”

  But Deb was already plowing through the snowbank, grabbing her daughter, and pulling her off the pond, skates and all. Jane stumbled through the snowbanks as Deb tugged her along and flung her forward, pressing her hand to Jane’s back all the way to the car. Jane protested — her skate blades would be ruined — but it was as though her mother couldn’t hear. Jane slammed herself in and stared out the back window. She watched the team get smaller as her mother drove away, and a black hole opened in her heart.

  They had their blow up, and Jane barricaded herself in her room, coming out eventually when she got hungry. Deb ate eggs in front of the TV, ignoring her daughter’s entrance. Piling scrambled eggs onto a plate, Jane stood in the doorway between the living room and kitchen, observing her mother, wondering if she should engage her. She never saw Deb this quiet and still; in her calm, slack face, Jane saw worry lines etched deep. Always pretty and petite, her mother seemed suddenly aged and haggard.

  It was as though Jane was seeing her mother for the first time for what she was: a lonely widow.

  Jane left Deb alone, and ate a solitary meal at the kitchen table, regret for her many deceptions threading through her thoughts.

  But not enough regret to make her want to quit …

  The next day, the hodgepodge of team members found each other in the school cafeteria. They sat together, mournfully chewing. Jane sat in their midst, picking at her food. Irina, moody, sat apart, but within hearing distance of her mates. Susan was the most irate.

  “This sucks,” she exploded. “Why does your mom have to ruin everything? Just when I wanted to organize a game — a real game — to test us. I talked to some of the guys yesterday. They’re into it.”

&n
bsp; Jane instantly perked up. “You’re kidding. For when?” she asked.

  “Whenever.”

  “Why not tonight?” The rest at the table eyed Jane suspiciously.

  “Really?” said Susan.

  Wendy tried to fire the first warning. “Jane …”

  “Look, I’ve got figure skating every morning and night this week ’til I go to Canadians in New Brunswick. Now I’m a senior, I’m completely overwhelmed. Leonard’s gonna be impossible. Besides that, Mom grounded me, but if you can get it together, Susan, I’ll get there somehow. It’ll be like a break. A break for my brain.”

  “I understand that,” Susan said, enthused.

  “Can the rest of you make it, say, around eight tonight, at the pond?” Jane asked.

  Most of them nodded, but Tina and Irina were motionless. “Be careful, Jane,” Tina said. “You’ll overdo it.”

  There were murmurs of agreement. “I know you’re concerned. But I need it, you know?” Jane whispered. “It clears my head.”

  Her teammates were silent. Cafeteria noise filled the void. Irina got up and walked behind Jane’s chair. “My father must work. He cannot be there,” she said in a low voice.

  “Jane,” Wendy tried again, “don’t be crazy. Remember. Senior — senior — ”

  “Drop it, Wendy,” Jane snapped. She looked to Susan, the only one smiling, the only person in agreement with her. “Please. Let’s go for it,” Jane asked them.

  Susan’s smile turned into a grin. “Let me see what I can do. Everyone else in?”

  “Only if Jane is,” Tina said. The rest of the girls nodded, except Irina. “What about your mother?” she persisted.

  Jane sat silent for a moment and played with her fork. She felt such a weight of guilt. But it seemed that her mother had been preventing her from doing what she wanted forever, since her father died. Despite her recent understanding of Deb, Jane knew she could only get to do what she wanted if she took a stand.

  Jane had her back to her friend — Irina, the voice of reason. “I’ll … I’ll figure it out,” Jane stuttered. “I … I guess I’ll have to tell another fib. Or two.” She stood, faced Irina, and took her hands into her own. “Mike will be there if this gets going. And if you’re at the pond to distract him from yelling at me, Irina, then that’s all for the better. Be there for me, okay?”