Boys, bags of chips, and bottles of pop were scattered everywhere in the living room of the Watson home when Ben walked in one night after work. As soon as Mike spotted his father, he got up from the DVD player and grinned. “Hey, Dad!”
The room became quiet as all the boys glanced at Ben.
“Hey, Mr. W!” Donnie chirped.
“Hey, yourself, Donnie,” Ben said.
Mike motioned at his father. “Guys, this is my dad.”
“Hey, everybody,” Ben said, waving.
There was a rumbling of hellos and some waves as the boys shyly acknowledged Ben.
“You guys make yourselves at home,” Ben said as he threaded his way through the bodies to get to the stairs. “I’m heading up to change out of my uniform. I’ll see you in a bit.”
When Ben returned downstairs, he took a chair from the kitchen and joined the boys, who were watching a portion of a DVD where all the big lacrosse hits were being shown.
“Jeez!” David Elanik cried. “They can’t do that. That guy wound up and gave the other guy a two-handed chop.”
“Oh, yes, they can,” Mike said. “In lacrosse you can cross-check, and as long as it isn’t too vicious, they let you hammer a guy like that.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Mark Kikoak said.
“I’m not kidding. Ask my dad. You can cross-check or body-check. Either way.”
Everybody turned toward Ben, who cleared his throat. “Well, you guys are watching the National Lacrosse League. They let a little more go at that level than at the level you boys would play. But you’d still be able to cross-check, hit, and chop each other a bit like you see on TV.”
“Oh!” the boys shouted collectively as two players sandwiched each other at full speed, sending their sticks into the air as they fell heavily to the floor.
“Oh, man, I’d love to play this game,” Mark said.
“It’s even rougher than hockey.”
“That might seem to be the case,” Donnie said to everyone’s surprise. “However, statistically there are far fewer injuries in lacrosse than hockey. This might interest you guys, too. I’ve been surfing the Net. Lacrosse was our only national sport before they officially added hockey. It was invented by aboriginal peoples, and one game could last for days. It was like a big game and party all at the same time. Box lacrosse came later, and though it looks rough, more guys get hurt bad in hockey and football. Most of the injuries in lacrosse are smaller stuff. Right now it’s one of the fastest-growing sports in the world.”
The room was silent for a moment, then Tommy shouted, “Oh, my God! Did you see that!”
Everyone’s attention was on the television again. Donnie looked around sheepishly. Ben caught his eye, nodded, and smiled. Seeing some form of validation, Donnie grinned and resumed watching the television, too.
As they followed the action on the screen, Mike faintly heard the doorbell ring and his mother greeting someone at the back entrance. His attention drifted back to the screen, and he let go with a “Yaaaa!” as a Rochester Nighthawk player scored a great behind-the-back goal. It took a few seconds, but he finally realized the rest of the room had grown quiet.
When Mike turned away from the television, his smile faded. Standing in the doorway to the kitchen were his mother and Gwen Thrasher.
“Well, aren’t you boys lucky,” Jeannie said cheerfully. “This beautiful young lady says she’s come to watch the lacrosse DVDs, too.”
Mike didn’t know who blushed the most, though he did see Gwen’s face redden. His own face was hot, so he figured it was beet-red. When Mike turned away, he caught sight of Donnie, whose cheeks were a deep reddish-brown, while his eyes were the size of hubcaps. Later Donnie told Mike he was feeling “sympathetic embarrassment.”
Gently, Jeannie pushed Gwen into the room. “Well, Gwen, I see some room by Mike over at the TV, so make yourself at home. I’ll get you a glass of Coke and bring in some more chips.”
Gwen nodded numbly and made her way over to where Mike sat. They glanced at each other shyly, then trained their eyes on the television.
The entire roomful of boys seemed stunned into silence at the sight of Mike and Gwen sitting together, then David shouted from the other side of the room, “Holy crap! Donnie farted!”
“Awwwwwwwwww!” everyone moaned, holding their noses and pushing Donnie.
“I did not!” Donnie cried, giving David a shove.
“Jeez, that coach looks like a walrus,” Tommy said. “He’s in half of the stuff on this DVD. His moustache is one big boogie catcher.”
“That’s Todd Lorenz,” Mike said. “He lives in St. Albert and used to coach me. Spencer, his son, was on my team. Todd was an amazing player. He’s in the Canadian Lacrosse Hall of Fame, and now he’s one of the Edmonton Rush coaches.”
All of the boys turned to Ben, who nodded in affirmation. They looked back at Mike with a new level of respect in their eyes.
“As a matter of fact,” Donnie said, “Todd Lorenz won nine Senior A Mann Cups in thirteen years with the New Westminster Salmonbellies. When he played Intermediate A, he was the first player in Richmond, British Columbia, lacrosse history to score more than fifty goals in one season. He accumulated 857 points with the Salmonbellies. That’s 380 goals and 477 assists.”
“My God, Donnie!” Gwen cried. “Where do you come up with all of this stuff?”
“It’s not stuff. It’s important trivia. Mike mentioned Todd when we were shooting the ball around one day, so I Googled him.”
Everyone once again turned and stared at Ben. Smiling, he shrugged and held up his hands. “The boy knows more than I do, but I think his numbers are right.”
After that each time Todd Lorenz appeared on the screen everyone attempted to be the first to shout “Walrus!” as loudly as possible.
“Oh, man, watch this,” Mike said. “This guy is Jimmy Quinlan from the Edmonton Rush.” As Mike spoke, a player wearing a white-and-black jersey with number 81 across the back took the ball beside the net. Faking one way, he spun the other and drove hard to the net. When he reached the crease, he launched himself into the air and dived across in front of the net, flying horizontally while shooting the ball into the bottom corner for a goal.
“Ohhhhhhhh!” everyone gasped.
“You see, guys,” Ben said, “you can’t step into the crease, the circled area around the net, while you have the ball. What he did there was fly through the air above the crease and score before he hit the floor. If any part of him had touched the floor in the crease before the ball was in the net, it would be no goal.”
“Man, I want to do that,” Tommy said.
The gang continued to watch the DVD as clip after clip of spectacular goals flew by, then David said, “Hey, guys, let’s go over to the school before it gets too late.”
Everyone shouted agreement, jumped to their feet, and pushed past Ben in a scramble to get out of the living room.
Mike stopped as he passed his parents. “Thanks, Mom, Dad. That was great. Dad, you should come and watch these guys practise Arctic Sports. It’s amazing. And you should see how good they are at lacrosse already.”
“If your mom doesn’t mind supper being a bit late, I might just do that.” Ben glanced at Jeannie.
She kissed her husband. “Have fun.”
Victor watched from the police yard as body after body tumbled out of the Watsons’ back door. When Ben and Mike emerged, he waved. Mike waved back and ran over to Victor. “Hey, Victor!”
Victor nodded and smiled.
“Sawubona, Victor!”
Victor’s smile turned to puzzlement.
“It’s hello in Zulu. Cool, eh?”
“Very cool, Mike.”
Ben caught up to Mike. “Hey, Vic, the boys are heading over to the gym to practise Arctic Sports and fool around with the lacrosse ball. Want to join us?”
“You know, Ben,” Victor said, “I think I’ll do just that.”
Soon after they all arrived at the school gym, Mike started practising the airplane. Tensing his body on the floor, he gave his handlers the go-ahead and they lifted him about a metre off the ground. Then the boys slowly moved Mike around the edge of the gym, with Mike visibly fighting the urge to collapse.
On he went until he finally collapsed as they lowered him to the floor.
Mike ran over and joined Ben and Victor. “What do you think?”
“You’re a good Inuvialuit,” Victor said, laughing.
Ben chuckled. “It looked great, son.”
“Oh, man, Dad, watch this!” Mike pointed excitedly. “Tommy’s going to do a high kick.”
They watched as Tommy walked under the small toy seal hanging from the metal pole. He stretched his hand above his head and touched the seal with his fingertips. It was a full arm’s length above him. Without turning his back he slowly stepped away, stopping when he felt comfortable with the distance. Rocking back and forth, he began to jog. As he reached the area in front of the seal, he swung his arms and sprang into the air. His right foot shot above his head, and the tips of his toes brushed the seal. Deftly, he landed back on his right foot and hopped in place with his arms in the air until he regained his balance.
“Isn’t that something, Dad?” Mike asked.
Ben shook his head. “I don’t believe it. That was out of this world.”
“Hey, let’s play some three-on-three!” David shouted.
The group ran to the lacrosse net and passed out sticks to the first two teams of three that would play. Some of the passes were off and the shots often went wild, but for not having played long they all looked really good. Gwen, in particular, seldom missed a pass unless it was completely wild, and every pass she made was perfect, every catch effortless. When she shot at the net, it was fluid and obvious that she was picking her spots. She wasn’t good for a girl. She was just plain good. It was like watching poetry.
The boys laughed their heads off as they tried the moves they had seen earlier on the DVDs at Mike’s house. Every so often Mike glanced over at his father when one of his new friends made a good pass or shot. Ben always smiled and nodded. The boys soon tired, but they had one last scrimmage that saw Tommy and Mike zip the ball back and forth so quickly no one could stop them.
Running hard, Tommy cut behind the net. “Ball, ball!” he shouted as he came around the other side.
Mike ripped a hard pass, and as it hit the mesh in Tommy’s stick, he left his feet. In full flight he sailed in front of the net horizontal to the floor and popped the ball into the mesh. Landing hard, he rolled onto his back and raised his arms in the air. “Jimmy Quinlan scores!” he shouted.
Mike turned excitedly to see Ben’s reaction. “Where did my dad go?” he asked, running over to Victor.
Victor shook his head. “I don’t know. After Tommy pretended he could fly, your dad mumbled something under his breath and almost ran out of here.”
Mike glanced at the large door. What had gotten into his father?