Undergrounders Read online

  Of course I couldn’t play with these guys, but he wasn’t moving, so I had to say something.

  “Don’t think I can do it tomorrow. Got stuff goin’ on … tomorrow. Maybe.”

  Rasheed shrugged. “Come out if you can. We could always use another skater.”

  I assumed that was that, and began tying my other skate.

  “Where do you go to school? I’ve never seen you around.”

  Street kids learn to think quick. I was ready. “I’m not from around here. My family’s visiting my uncle. Got so boring I had to escape.”

  Rasheed bought it. Lewis always said that Reggies believe anything.

  “Awesome-looking skates,” he said. “Did you get them for Christmas?”

  They obviously looked new. I pretended he’d figured it out. “Got new gloves too.” I held them up.

  “Sweet gloves. Wish I had new ones.” He held his up — they were kind of old and beat-up.

  “Come on, Rasheed. We’re going to Derrick’s.”

  “I’m coming.” He nodded to me. “See you later. Our hockey team practises Tuesdays or Thursdays, and games are usually Friday or Saturday, and we’re here most other times.”

  “Yeah … okay … maybe …”

  That sounded so lame. Rasheed didn’t say anything mean, though. “Thanks for getting our puck,” was all, and as he left he called out, “That was our last one.”

  It was strange how nervous I got around Reggies. I put it out of my mind and hit the ice. I didn’t do too badly, either, considering I hadn’t skated in so long and the skates weren’t sharpened. It might sound like bragging, but I was the star player on my team. When my mom still had a good job I played AA. I was a centre and scored a ton of goals. She couldn’t afford for me to play competitive last year, and then she got sick.

  The skating came right back to me. Before long I was whizzing around. Then I got my stick and puck. It was rough at first. The puck wouldn’t behave and my stick was a bit long. I did okay after a while. Besides, this was better than hawking at the Market any day.

  I don’t really know how long I skated — a few hours definitely. I could have kept going but my hands and feet were becoming ice blocks again. I blasted one more slapshot at the net.

  Clang!

  It pinged off the post — the sickest sound in the world. More fun hitting the post than scoring sometimes. Nice way to end it, I thought, and collected the puck and went in. The change room was empty. As soon as I sat down I got hungry again. The vending machines were torturing me because I didn’t have enough change. Usually, I ate a Chinese bun for dinner, but not tonight. I was going to get me a hot dog from the vendor in front of the train station.

  “You need something for blisters.”

  A man in a dark-green shirt and dirty overalls pointed at my feet. I noticed two huge blisters on the outside part of my feet.

  “You should not skate so long. Bad for feet.”

  His English wasn’t the best, but he was right about the blisters. They looked nasty.

  “No big deal,” I said. “The skates are new. I gotta break them in better. Thanks.”

  He shook his head, peering at me funny. His face was baggy and had little bumps and marks all over it, and he had a thin scar over one of his eyes. “Not good skates,” he muttered, and left.

  I figured he was the janitor or something. I ignored him and tossed my stuff into my bag. I was about to leave when he came back.

  “Here.” He pushed a load of Band-Aids into my hand. “Use to make better.”

  The blisters were stinging a bit. “Thanks,” I said, and put a couple on. He nodded and said, “My name Pavel. You ask if you need something.”

  I needed tons of stuff. Pavel hardly seemed the type to give it to me. He didn’t look much better off than a Streeter himself. We talked a little and I found out he worked for the city as a janitor, going around to different rinks and community centres to clean up.

  I said goodbye and hustled to the Market to see if I could hawk a bit of cash. On the way I stashed my stuff in my secret hiding spot behind the Theatre. There were these two huge metal garbage bins, and behind them were two window wells. Lewis had told me ages ago to find a secret hiding spot, and this was mine. I used it all the time and had never lost anything.

  I wasn’t surprised to see the front door of the Market crawling with Streeters and Undergrounders. We had rules about crowding. Once you set up, no one could come within five metres without permission. Skidder had the front door, with Happy D and Fitzy. They were big kids and would never let me in. Creeper was at the side doors. He sometimes cut me some slack, so I went over with as friendly a smile as I could make. His face was kind of angry, maybe because of the cold. But then he was usually in a bad mood.

  “What’s up, Creeper? How’s the money flow?”

  “It sucks big time,” he snarled back. “I ain’t got no time for you, Mouse. Get scarce.”

  That didn’t go well. Once Creeper got like that there was no point trying to be nice. My last chance was the passage to the parking lot in the back. It was the worst spot. Lewis had told me that. People hate feeling bad about themselves and street kids depress them. They feel guilty about how much money they have, and especially guilty when they won’t give it to street kids. They feel real bad carrying bags of food from the Market, and the farther they walk away from the Market the worse they feel. So if you beg by the parking lot, you’ll have a killer time trying to get a slimy cent out of them.

  I wasn’t too worried because of the five bucks in my pocket, and my hands and feet were freezing again. The Market was definitely slow today because after like twenty minutes maybe ten people walked by me, and they didn’t so much as turn to look my way.

  A mom with two small kids headed toward me, the kids so bundled in snowsuits all I could see were their tiny noses sticking out. Moms almost never give to street kids, and absolutely never when they had little kids with them. Best target is a guy with a lady; the guy will want to show off.

  One of the kids pulled on his mom’s coat.

  In a whisper I heard the mom say, “Joshua, it’s freezing and we’re late. I can’t stop every time.”

  “Give me a quarter, Mommy. Give me some money.”

  I got hopeful. Definitely time to make a move. I hunched my shoulders to look real small and pathetic. “I haven’t eaten today. You got any change, even a nickel?”

  Best to ask for crazy small change. Makes Reggies feel cheap if they don’t give you something bigger.

  “Joshua, stop pulling on Mommy’s arm when I’m carrying heavy things.”

  Joshua kept tugging away and his mom was going to lose it, which was bad because that would mean she’d just bolt to her car.

  “You don’t have to,” I said, making my voice crack a bit. “I’ll be okay.”

  She put her bags down and began to dig around in her purse. Joshua wouldn’t stop pulling on her coat, and then the other kid started asking for money.

  “I don’t have any change,” I heard her mutter as the kids kept pulling away. “Stop it, you two. That’s enough already, please!”

  She pulled out two five-dollar bills. I swear. I couldn’t believe it. She gave one to each kid, only the wind picked up and Joshua’s brother dropped the bill and it blew away, with both kids tearing after it and their mom yelling at them to be careful and to stop. The bill went under a car and Joshua actually crawled under to get it.

  “Joshua, get up. It’s dirty and there’s ice everywhere.”

  He obviously wasn’t big on listening. He kept at it until he got the money, and ran over and gave the bills to me.

  “You’re legit, dude,” I said to him. “Stay cool.”

  “Let’s get going. Mommy’s going to the car now. Daddy’s at home waiting for us.”

  I guess they loved their dad since they ran to the car. Joshua turned and waved, and I waved back, and why not since he basically got me ten dollars. That did it for hawking today. I’d never been
so loaded in my life — $15.50. This really was the best day ever.

  I cut up to Union Street toward the hot dog vendor around the far side so I wouldn’t have to deal with Creeper. I smelled the dogs before I even saw the cart. All the Undergrounders love these hot dogs, and if anybody has the coin to buy one they brag about it forever. I’d only eaten a few. One time a dad bought a hot dog for his little son and the kid threw it on the ground. The dad lost it and yelled and screamed and wouldn’t let the little kid pick it up, and as the dad pulled his kid, who was having a total temper tantrum, I ran over and snatched it. I didn’t get to choose my own toppings, though, so this would be way better.

  “One hot dog,” I ordered in a loud voice.

  The man eyed me suspiciously. “Hot dogs ain’t free,” he said.

  “No kidding,” I shot back, holding out one of my five-dollar bills.

  He squinted at me, making his face lopsided before cooking me up the dog.

  “I see you here with the other boys. You ever go to school?” he asked me.

  “Every day, sir. I’m in university.”

  “Another wise guy. All you kids are wise guys.” He gave me my dog. “You want something to drink?”

  The dog smelled so good I couldn’t resist. “Give me a Coke,” I said.

  I loaded up on toppings until I could barely get my mouth around the hot dog. The heat from the hot dog warmed my mouth and my throat as I swallowed. It felt so good. If only this day could last forever. I ate as slowly as I could, wandering along the street past the railway station and around the back.

  I tossed the hot dog wrapping and the pop can into the bushes and clambered down the steep hill past the old, rusting railway tracks. Only a loser brought food to the Underground, unless you were Rigger or Lewis or another big kid. I learned that the hard way when two kids jumped me for some bread and gave me two black eyes. Lewis called me raccoon-face until the dark circles went away.

  Footprints in the snow dotted the way. A Reggie wouldn’t notice the grey metal door in a million years. We called it the drawbridge, because drawbridges protect the only way in and out of a castle, and so did this. The Underground was our castle, and it protected us against the outside world, the weather, the cops, the Reggies, and most of all, Streeters.

  I knocked the code as quietly as possible. Rigger would pound you if you made too much noise: two knocks — wait a second; two more — wait two seconds; three more knocks. The door opened a few centimetres.

  “It’s Mouse.”

  The door opened the rest of the way.

  I was in.

  Chapter 4

  Brachy was guarding tonight. His name was a joke because it was short for Brachiosaurus, which was the biggest dinosaur ever, and Brachy was barely bigger than me and he was seventeen years old. I knew better than to talk to an older Undergrounder. I went to the elevator shaft and climbed down the rope ladder. The first rule of the Underground was pay Rigger, so I lined up behind a few others to pay the rent. Creeper was in front of me.

  “Can you loan me tonight?” Creeper asked me.

  Creeper was the biggest mooch in the Underground. I’d lent him three dollars over the past couple of months. Kiss that money goodbye, Lewis said to me when he heard, and he was right. Whenever I asked for it he always said he was broke.

  “Can’t do it,” I said. “You saw me. I had to go to the parking lot.”

  I turned around to end the conversation. Soon it was my turn. Rigger was sitting in his armchair outside his store like he always was when it was rent time. I handed him a toonie, which was the change from the hot dog vendor.

  Rigger reached into a bowl for my change. He rarely spoke to junior Undergrounders, and I just took my money and headed for my store. A few of the older kids were hanging out in the Executive Suites, which is what we called the row of stores leading from Rigger’s. All the older kids took those. The Executive Suites were the biggest and also the warmest. Mine was way in the back. It was cold, and sometimes water got in. At least winter was dry.

  We stayed together in one store to keep warm — Will, Rose, J.J. and me, that is. It’s not that they were my friends, really, not like Lewis, and most of the time Will and Rose treated me pretty bad. Will and Rose were twins, although they didn’t look alike. They were fourteen, but acted like they were five years older than me. J.J. was twelve like me, and he was a total whiner and practically the only Undergrounder I could pound, so he didn’t give me a hard time. Of course, since me and Lewis were buds I didn’t have much trouble with anyone.

  “It’s getting cold in here,” I said, as I got into my sleeping bag. I didn’t want Will to think I was afraid to talk.

  “Thanks for the weather report,” Will snapped. He was already in his sleeping bag.

  I noticed a big bruise on his cheek. “What happened to—?” I never finished the question because Rose jumped in.

  “Will got his butt kicked by some Streeter today,” she said, as if it was funny.

  “Shut up,” he growled, pulling his sleeping bag under his chin. His right eye was also puffy and he had a cut on his chin.

  “Who was it?” I asked.

  “None of your business,” Will said.

  But I knew Rose would tell. “We were at the subway station hawking the rush-hour crowd when some Streeters told us to move. Will said we were there first, and this guy in an army jacket pounded Will something awful.”

  “Was he also wearing a green hat, with an American flag on the side?” I asked.

  Rose nodded.

  “That’s W5. I wouldn’t mess with him. He’s a serious dude.”

  I delivered packages from Lewis to W5 about two or three times a week and I knew all about him.

  “Hey, Mouse. Come on over for a sec.”

  That was Lewis calling for me. I hopped out of my sleeping bag double quick. I was dying to tell him about my day, anyway.

  “It’s cute the way the little doggy runs after his master,” Rose said.

  Sometimes she bugged me so much, and she had this way of talking slowly and real sarcastic about everything. Will was way bigger than me, so I couldn’t do anything about him. Rose was tough too, and to be honest, although I’d never admit it, I was kind of scared of her.

  So I just ignored her diss and raced over to Lewis’s store, which was about five down from Rigger’s. He was stretched out on his couch, as usual. He’d somehow been able to score a couch and lower it down. Only he and Rigger had something to sit on other than a milk box or cardboard. Sometimes Lewis let me sleep on his couch when he was out on business, which was a lot, especially lately.

  He spotted me right off, as always.

  “Yo, Mouse. What shakes in your world tonight?”

  “Will got pounded by W5 at the subway.”

  His face darkened. “You were there?” he asked me.

  “No. Rose told me about it. I didn’t see nothin’.”

  Lewis laughed and patted the couch. “Sit down and relax. Was that a cold day, or what?”

  There was nothing better than his couch. It was so soft. I told Lewis about my day, and every once in a while he’d whistle real low and his eyes would get wider. “You nicked that stuff all by yourself, for real?” he said, when I’d finished.

  “Sure did. I admit I was a little scared at first.”

  He winked at me and put his arm around my shoulders. “I think you’re ready for something more than just delivering packages. Give me a few days and I’ll have something for you. You can help me out, and I can give you some money for it. Does that sound good?”

  I nodded.

  He stood up and held up his hands like a boxer, moving slowly to his left. This was my favourite game. I began to bob and weave, jabbing with my left like Lewis taught me, waiting for an opening. I knew I had no chance against Lewis, who was four years older and totally ripped, but it was fun to try.

  I swung my right fist hard at his stomach, but he was too quick with his block and followed it up with a f
lurry of jabs. I covered up best I could until he wrapped me up in his arms and tossed me on the couch. That was his signal for game over. I scrambled to my feet ready to go back to my store. I learned the hard way about messing with Lewis. He was my best friend, but he had a wicked temper. Once I kept trying to box and he hit me for real on the side of the head. I got a huge lump and had a bad headache for a couple of days, but I deserved it for not listening.

  “Don’t get up,” he said, pushing me onto the couch. “I gotta go out, and probably won’t be back until morning. Got some business to deal with. Stay here and watch my stuff.”

  I couldn’t believe my luck today. “Sure thing,” I said, trying not to sound goofy. “I’ll get my sleeping bag and be right back. Thanks, Lewis.”

  “No worries, Mouse. I may need you to take a package for me in the morning, so be ready. I’ll catch you on the flip side of life.”

  Lewis grabbed his knapsack and left. I ran to get my bag.

  “Where are you going?” Rose asked me.

  “Lewis wants me to watch his stuff while he’s out,” I said.

  “Out where?” she said.

  “He’s got business.”

  She had a laugh like a witch, real creepy, and she gave me an extra long one this time. She was so weird.

  I wanted to diss her real bad. What was so funny about Lewis going out? I kept quiet, though, since Will was in such a bad mood, even for him. He could be real mean to his sister, but he’d protect her if anyone else tried. Besides, I had a couch to sleep on, while these losers were going to sleep on a cold floor.

  My legs felt tired as I lay out on the couch, and my eyes got heavy real fast. Usually, I had trouble sleeping. I wasn’t going to have much trouble tonight. The blisters on my feet bugged me a bit. Otherwise, it was like sleeping on a cloud or a bed of feathers.

  I wouldn’t ever forget this day — the best day of my life.

  Chapter 5

  Lewis must have had a lot of business because he wasn’t back when Rigger rang the wakeup bell. I waited in line for the toilet. Rigger was strict about that: no doing your business except in the washroom. That rule I agreed with. Some guys were total pigs and they’d be peeing all over the place if they could. I never minded waiting. It was worth it to have a real toilet at least once a day.