Travis’s hand.
“Next time,” Billings said with a smile.
“Next time,” Travis smiled back.
15
“I need to talk to you.”
Travis had taken Sarah aside as soon as the victorious Owls had returned to Station Square. They had been singing and laughing on the bus, but Sarah had noticed that Travis sat quietly on his own, staring out at the river as the shuttle carrying the team crossed the bridges and twisted through the streets. She figured it was for good reason – he was better, but not completely recovered from the concussion. Besides, Travis was naturally quiet. Asher father often said of those who spoke little, “Still waters run deep.” And that pretty much summed up Travis Lindsay in her mind.
But now he wanted to talk.
“Shoot,” she told him, but he shook his head.
“Not here.”
“We can walk down along the river,” Sarah suggested. “I’ll get my coat and meet you in the lobby.”
“Bring Sam,” he said.
Sarah nodded and headed for the elevator. What could all this be about? she wondered as the elevator doors closed.
Travis went up to his room for his own coat. He pulled his bulky team jacket over his tracksuit and was just leaving again when Nish – the Iceman – came running along the hallway so as to make the sheet with the big
I
on it fly out behind him like a real cape. The sheet was frayed. Nish had clearly been working at it with scissors, trying to get it to a size where it wouldn’t trip him up on his skates.
Nish stopped, and the cape fell around his shoulders and dangled as far as his knees. He was puffing.
“Wazzup?” he asked.
“I’m just going down to meet Sarah. We’re going for a walk.”
“Can I come?”
Travis swallowed. He had originally thought to tell only Sarah. He imagined that the two of them, as captain and assistant, might go to Mr. Dillinger for advice on what to do. But he’d already told Sarah to bring Sam along.
“I guess,” Travis said.
He knew if he said no, there would be no end to the teasing from his big-mouth friend. Nish would carry on as if Travis and Sarah were going off for some romantic stroll in the moonlight, which wasn’t the case at all. It wouldn’t stop Nish from teasing, though.
There was a sharp wind coming in off the river. The Owls all had their jackets zipped tight to the throat and hats pulled down over their ears. Nish, with no gloves, had his hands stuffed deep into his jacket pockets.
A light snow swirled across the water. The river looked cold and gray. Much better, Travisthought, for lakes and rivers to freeze hard, as they had back home. He didn’t like this damp cold and half wished they’d just met to talk in one of the fast-food outlets in the square.
But he didn’t want anyone else to hear. Not yet, anyway. Not until he knew what he had. Or could accept that in reality he had nothing.
He told them the whole story. He admitted that he’d been confused and confessed that for a while he had thought it was all in his imagination, a dream of some sort, or a misunderstanding. Maybe it had been a television program on loud. Maybe it had been nothing.
He told them about cutting his foot on the broken glass and how that made him realize he had really overheard something being planned in the other room. He did not mention the chocolate bar, as he knew that would immediately send Nish’s thoughts elsewhere, and he needed all three of his friends to concentrate hard on what he was saying.
The two girls listened intently. Nish half listened, but at least he shut up and let Travis do all the talking.
Sam was the first to say it was the Stanley Cup. She said it so matter-of-factly that Travis instantly knew this was exactly what he himself believed but had been too afraid to say. He’d thought for sure they would tell him he’d been dreaming, that there was no way someone would try to steal the cup again.
“They plan to steal the cup,” Sam said again, carefully thinking it through. “They have some
“Next time,” Billings said with a smile.
“Next time,” Travis smiled back.
15
“I need to talk to you.”
Travis had taken Sarah aside as soon as the victorious Owls had returned to Station Square. They had been singing and laughing on the bus, but Sarah had noticed that Travis sat quietly on his own, staring out at the river as the shuttle carrying the team crossed the bridges and twisted through the streets. She figured it was for good reason – he was better, but not completely recovered from the concussion. Besides, Travis was naturally quiet. Asher father often said of those who spoke little, “Still waters run deep.” And that pretty much summed up Travis Lindsay in her mind.
But now he wanted to talk.
“Shoot,” she told him, but he shook his head.
“Not here.”
“We can walk down along the river,” Sarah suggested. “I’ll get my coat and meet you in the lobby.”
“Bring Sam,” he said.
Sarah nodded and headed for the elevator. What could all this be about? she wondered as the elevator doors closed.
Travis went up to his room for his own coat. He pulled his bulky team jacket over his tracksuit and was just leaving again when Nish – the Iceman – came running along the hallway so as to make the sheet with the big
I
on it fly out behind him like a real cape. The sheet was frayed. Nish had clearly been working at it with scissors, trying to get it to a size where it wouldn’t trip him up on his skates.
Nish stopped, and the cape fell around his shoulders and dangled as far as his knees. He was puffing.
“Wazzup?” he asked.
“I’m just going down to meet Sarah. We’re going for a walk.”
“Can I come?”
Travis swallowed. He had originally thought to tell only Sarah. He imagined that the two of them, as captain and assistant, might go to Mr. Dillinger for advice on what to do. But he’d already told Sarah to bring Sam along.
“I guess,” Travis said.
He knew if he said no, there would be no end to the teasing from his big-mouth friend. Nish would carry on as if Travis and Sarah were going off for some romantic stroll in the moonlight, which wasn’t the case at all. It wouldn’t stop Nish from teasing, though.
There was a sharp wind coming in off the river. The Owls all had their jackets zipped tight to the throat and hats pulled down over their ears. Nish, with no gloves, had his hands stuffed deep into his jacket pockets.
A light snow swirled across the water. The river looked cold and gray. Much better, Travisthought, for lakes and rivers to freeze hard, as they had back home. He didn’t like this damp cold and half wished they’d just met to talk in one of the fast-food outlets in the square.
But he didn’t want anyone else to hear. Not yet, anyway. Not until he knew what he had. Or could accept that in reality he had nothing.
He told them the whole story. He admitted that he’d been confused and confessed that for a while he had thought it was all in his imagination, a dream of some sort, or a misunderstanding. Maybe it had been a television program on loud. Maybe it had been nothing.
He told them about cutting his foot on the broken glass and how that made him realize he had really overheard something being planned in the other room. He did not mention the chocolate bar, as he knew that would immediately send Nish’s thoughts elsewhere, and he needed all three of his friends to concentrate hard on what he was saying.
The two girls listened intently. Nish half listened, but at least he shut up and let Travis do all the talking.
Sam was the first to say it was the Stanley Cup. She said it so matter-of-factly that Travis instantly knew this was exactly what he himself believed but had been too afraid to say. He’d thought for sure they would tell him he’d been dreaming, that there was no way someone would try to steal the cup again.
“They plan to steal the cup,” Sam said again, carefully thinking it through. “They have some
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