Most of the other Owls had already headed for the team bus for the ride back to the hotel when Travis, Fahd, Lars, and Nish decided to take the shortcut out the Zamboni chute and through the back door.
They were just moving into the Zamboni chute when a familiar voice barked, “Halt! Who goes there?”
Earplug!
They couldn’t see him, but they could hear him. “What is this?” Nish said. “A pirate movie?”
Travis cringed. The old Nish was back – but this was hardly the time to kid around.
“Identify yourselves immediately!” Earplug barked.
“T-Travis Lindsay,” Travis said.
“Fahd Noorizadeh.”
“Lars Johanssen.”
“Paul Kariya.”
Travis winced.
“Drop the bags!” the voice ordered.
The four Owls dropped their equipment bags.
“Up against the wall!”
The four boys moved towards the wall. Nish, having seen it so many times on television, automatically faced the wall and leaned against it, his hands high, as if he were about to be frisked.
Earplug came around the doorway, his hand tucked inside his jacket like it was petting his revolver.
“That’s the idea, Kariya!” he called out. “You others do the same!”
The three followed Nish’s lead, Fahd letting a giggle slip out as he did so. Kariya?
“What’s so funny, you?” Earplug snapped.
“Nothing,” Fahd said in a quick, small voice.
“What are you boys doing here? This is a restricted zone!”
“We’re taking a shortcut, sir!” Nish barked back, as if he were a marine recruit.
This time both Fahd and Lars giggled. Let it alone, Nish, Travis thought. Let it alone.
“Shortcut?” Earplug said, for the first time speaking in a nearly normal voice.
“The team bus is out back,” Travis said. “We always go through this way. It’s shorter.”
“You’ll go through this way no more, young man,” Earplug said. “The FBI and Secret Service have declared this off limits to the end of the tournament. Understand?”
“Yessss, sirrrrr!” Nish snapped back over his shoulder.
“You other boys act more like Kariya, here,” said Earplug. “And we’ll understand each other just fine. Now get out of here, the long way!”
“Yessss, sirrrrr!” Nish snapped again.
The four Owls gathered up their equipment bags and sticks and turned back the way they’d come, heading the long way around for the bus. Mr. Dillinger and Muck would be wondering what had happened to them.
“What’s with the ‘Paul Kariya’?” Lars asked Nish as they went through a door into the corridor heading toward the front entrance.
“First thing that came into my mind,” Nish said.
Travis shook his head. Life would certainly be a lot easier if only his friend would wait for the second, third, fourth – or two hundredth – thing that came into his twisted mind.