Never had Travis seen a tournament so wonderfully run. The organizers even took each team’s equipment after the players switched over to the new tournament bags, and special locked “cages” had been provided in a rear storage area so teams could, if they wished, keep their equipment at the main tournament rink. Sarah and Sam, for example, wanted to take their equipment back to the motel and wash things out in the laundry room. Nish, red-faced, said he wanted to do the same and yanked his new pride and joy–“official Competitor, First International 3-on-3 Hockey Tournament, Vancouver, B.C., No. 44”–off the nearest trolley, threw it over his shoulder, and headed out to catch the bus back to the motel.

“Nish has never washed his stuff in his life,” noted Data as several of the Owls watched, astounded.

“He always says his stink is his good luck,” said a mystified Jesse.

“He just wants to play with his new toy,” said Travis. He made shaking motions with his hands and pretended to turn over a snow globe, his eyes widening in mock amazement.

“Didn’t he have a childhood?” Wilson asked.

“He’s still having it,” said Sarah. “It’s his missing adulthood that worries me.”

The motel was simple, but nice, with a good view of English Bay and, on the far side, the green edge of Stanley Park. Sarah and Sam headed down to the laundry facilities to wash their hockey gear, Data and a few of the players started up a Nintendo round-robin, and Lars and Travis, who were rooming with Nish and Andy, lay down for a quick nap before dinner.

Travis was just dozing off when the quiet was broken by a cursing, angry Nish.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” Nish wailed. He sounded truly upset.

“What?” Travis shouted.

“My snow globe’s broken!”

Travis sat up. At the foot of his bed was Nish, crouching over his new equipment bag. The box his snow globe had come in was torn at his feet and the beautiful gift in his hands.

“What’s wrong?” Travis asked.

“Look!” Nish said, holding it up.

Travis stared at the snow globe. Only the snow inside wasn’t swirling. It wasn’t tumbling or falling.

It was doing nothing. More a solid snowball than a snowfall.

“What happened?” asked Travis.

“I dunno,” said Nish. “I just pulled it out and it was busted.”

Lars was already on his feet. He took the globe from Nish and rolled it over slowly in his hands. Nothing moved. “You must have shaken it awfully hard,” he said.

“I didn’t shake it at all,” Nish protested.

“Maybe it got shaken on the bus,” suggested Travis. “Or when they threw it on that trolley.”

“That’s probably it,” said Lars, nodding. “It got so badly shaken it crystallized.”

“What?” Nish asked, his face twisting into a puzzled prune.

“Crystallized,” repeated Lars. “Sometimes things that are in liquid can crystallize and turn solid. Kind of like ice–only it doesn’t need the cold.”

Nish looked baffled. But he seemed to accept Lars’s explanation. “I guess,” he said. “But I don’t want a broken one. I want a good one.”

Lars smiled. “You can have mine. I don’t care about it. I just like the equipment bag.”

Nish looked relieved. “You’re sure?”

“Sure. I’ll give you mine next time we’re back at the rink. It’s in my new bag. That’s where the rest of us put them.”

Nish took back the broken snow globe and stared at it. “What’ll we do with this one?”

“Put it in the drawer,” Lars said. “Maybe I’ll show it to someone and try to get a replacement.”

Nish nodded. Perhaps he didn’t understand crystallization, but he understood what he needed to know: that he would have a good, working snow globe to take home to his mother. Travis grinned slightly to himself. He knew Nish too well. If only the others knew what a big softie Nish was when it came to his mom. It was good of Lars to make such a generous offer–but then, that was typical of Lars, too. Always helping out. Always doing the right thing.

There was a loud rap on the door.

“You in there, Travis?” a voice called.

It was Sarah.

“Yeah, whadya want?”

“Muck wants to see us all down in the lobby–right away.”