Undergrounders Page 7

  Why would W5 be after me? Yesterday I’d dropped a package off and everything was fine. I sat up.

  “What’s the deal?” I said, rubbing my back.

  He kneeled down and grabbed me by the shirt. “Tell that puke Lewis that he owes me fifty bucks, and I’d better get it soon or he’ll be dead. I mean it.”

  The two jerks next to him thought that was hilarious. I picked myself off the ground, went over and pulled on J.J.’s sleeve. “We gotta go. No action here. Will’s waiting for us.”

  He kept his stupid face pressed up against the window. “Chill. There’s a show on.”

  “We’re going,” I hissed, pulling his arm. I was so mad at him I swear my head was going to explode.

  “Let go, you freakin’ … What’re ya doing?”

  The loser put up such a fuss everyone was looking — not good.

  “I don’t think he wants to dance with you,” W5 said real loud.

  That got a big laugh, of course. I let J.J. go. “I’m leaving,” I whispered.

  A big hand closed on my shoulder and a thumb dug under my collarbone. It hurt so bad I was paralysed by the pain.

  It was W5. “Why so eager?” He eyed me real close. “I bet you’re loaded.”

  My heart was about to jump out of my chest.

  “Let’s see what you got in your pockets,” he growled, and slapped me kind of hard across the face.

  “I … I … don’t have anything,” I managed.

  “Prove it.”

  He let me go, but now his friends had me surrounded — no escape. And then out of the corner of my eye, what do I see but J.J. crossing the street. Stupid jerk.

  “Start with the right pocket,” Scrunchy Face ordered. His hair was greasier than usual. I pulled the pocket out. “Now the other one,” he said.

  This time the loonie fell out, and Scrunchy Face picked it up. “I thought you didn’t have nothin’,” he snarled. His breath smelled gross, like fried chicken. “I bet he’s got more. Let me work him over and find out.” He pulled me by my collar.

  “I don’t have more, I swear. I gotta go meet someone. I gotta … I gotta …”

  “I gotta. I gotta,” W5 mimicked in a high-pitched voice.

  Scrunchy Face threw me to the ground. “You look scared,” he said. “Is it ’cause you’re about to get pounded?”

  Lewis had taught me what to do in a street fight. Get the first shot in, and hit him where it hurts. Then run like the wind. I got to my feet.

  “Should I start with your face, or loosen you up with a couple of body shots?”

  “Start with this,” I yelled, and smashed him right in the crown jewels. I didn’t wait for more questions. I sprinted across the street, and kept going even though I heard car tires screeching.

  “You’re dead, dude. Dead!”

  I didn’t dare look back. J.J. was such a traitor! They were going to kill me for sure, especially if they found the loonie in my sock. Where should I go? They’d get me soon. Big kids are fast. The only thing I could think of was the Theatre. Maybe Will or Rose would be there, not that they could do much against W5.

  I turned the corner and snuck a look. W5 was catching up. I kept running, dodging Reggies the whole way. No one gave me a second look; who was going to help a street kid? My legs hurt and so did my shoulder where W5 grabbed me. I’d be hurt a lot more when he caught me.

  “No chance, puke. Stop or I’ll punish you worse.”

  I came to a red light but I didn’t stop for a second. A big truck came barrelling down the street and W5 had to wait, which let me turn the corner again and get a lead. I turned down a small street behind the Theatre. Up ahead was the garbage bin. Something crazy came to me. I looked back and they hadn’t turned down the alley yet. Without thinking I jumped up and rolled into the bin, pulling some bags over my head, praying he hadn’t seen me. The smell was unreal — rotten eggs mixed with vomit, I swear. But that was nothing compared with the torture of waiting for him to find me.

  I forced myself not to make a sound — not to move a muscle — not to even breathe — so I held my breath for as long as I could before taking another one real quiet. Try doing that when you have a cough. I thought my lungs were going to burst.

  I heard someone run by but couldn’t be sure it was him. At least the garbage was soft. Maybe it was from a restaurant, because I know there’s one in the Theatre. I counted to a hundred three times, and then slowly peeked out the top of the bin.

  I took my first deep breath; the coast was clear. I pushed the garbage bags off, and then slumped back down. This is great, I thought: sitting in garbage, the nastiest Streeter in the world after me, J.J. runs off, I smell like crap, and I have my first hockey game tonight with the Rangers. Maybe because no one was around, but for whatever reason a tear snuck out of my eye, and after that I couldn’t stop. Why couldn’t I just play hockey all the time? On the ice, I didn’t think about the Underground or Streeters, or always being hungry, or living with idiots who bugged me, or missing my mom so much I got a sick feeling in my stomach.

  Thank God the tears finally ran out. What really sucked was I’d lost my extra dollar to W5 and couldn’t buy a Coke unless I hawked some more cash. Fat chance of that, smelling like this, and I felt my butt was all wet from something — now that was gross.

  Stupid J.J.

  Chapter 15

  “Mouse. Where have you been? I’m tired of waiting. J.J. said you were right behind him.”

  Will glared at me with his hands on his hips. Rose looked at me with her nose all pulled back like she couldn’t understand something. J.J. slunk off to the side.

  “I had some W5 problems to deal with,” I said, real calm.

  All of a sudden Will didn’t look like he wanted to pound me.

  “You got blood on your coat,” Rose said.

  “Did you fight W5?” Will said, his eyes wide.

  “That loser took my money. But I popped one guy in the crown jewels and took off.”

  “Yeah, right,” Will said, waving me off.

  “It’s true,” J.J. said. “W5 whacked him in the face a few times and then this tall, skinny guy was gonna pound him. Jonathon punched him good. I saw it.”

  Will actually laughed. “You surprise me sometimes, Mouse. I wish I could’ve seen it. Just thinking about it is worth a bun, anyway. Come with us, and I’ll buy you one.”

  “Okay. Thanks. It was a good shot too. The loser fell right to the pavement.”

  “Too bad it wasn’t W5,” Will growled. “Do that to him and I’ll buy you a hot dog.” He pointed down the street and walked off.

  “You got some blood on your face too,” Rose said as she passed me.

  I licked my fingers and rubbed my face to get it off. The taste was salty and beefy, and it nearly made me sick. J.J. kept away from me the whole way to Winston’s. I figured the best thing was to say nothing and let him stew. I guess there wasn’t anything he could have done to help me, and he did back me up in front of Will and Rose. Still, I wasn’t going to be nice; he didn’t deserve it.

  The sun was going down. Rigger could tell me the time. I hoped I had a chance to rest before the game. I had to meet Rasheed at his house by six thirty, and since I was so low on cash I couldn’t take the subway. I could have eaten ten Chinese buns, I was so starved.

  We got our buns and went back to the Underground. Creeper was guarding the door. He nodded at me. “What happened to you? Run into a truck?”

  J.J. answered for me. “W5 pounded on him. Stole his coin too. Mouse punched one of W5’s crew in the nuts and got away.”

  Creeper whistled softly. “Mouse the enforcer. Didn’t figure you for a scrapper.”

  He didn’t say it in his usual mean way. Maybe this fight would be a good thing, make me more legit to the Undergrounders. Everyone seemed impressed, even Will.

  “That loser fell like a sack of potatoes. You shoulda seen it,” I bragged.

  “That’s a rough crew,” Creeper said seriously. “Have you
told Lewis yet?”

  That’s when it hit me. How could I make deliveries to W5 for Lewis? This was serious bad.

  I shrugged as if I didn’t care. “I ain’t afraid of them. I’ll do what I want.”

  “You comin’?” J.J. said, his foot on the ladder.

  “Yeah. Yeah. Quit buggin’ me. Go ahead,” I snapped, and J.J. started climbing down. Creeper was looking out the window. “I’ll see ya, Creeper,” I said to him. He didn’t turn around or answer, so I followed J.J. The climb hurt like anything with my hurt shoulder. I’d also jammed my wrist when I jumped into the bin. I ignored it and kept going, hopping down the last couple of rungs the way all the legit Undergrounders do. I prayed it was only five o’clock so I could relax a bit and clean up, or the guys would think I was a freak.

  J.J., Rose and Will were waiting for me.

  “Can you ask Lewis for his cards?” J.J. asked. “We wanna play Crazy Eights.”

  “I’ll ask him — but I can’t play,” I said.

  “Why not?” J.J. demanded.

  After what happened I didn’t figure I had to answer to him. I started off to Rigger. Will wasn’t so easy to ignore. He grabbed my arm.

  “Our Mouse is all fired up after his W5 experience. Don’t you be disrespecting me or getting ideas,” he said.

  I felt like giving him a shot to the crown jewels. Nowhere to run, though. “I’m going out later, so I don’t have time.”

  “We can play until you go,” J.J. said.

  Suddenly, we were best freakin’ friends. To shut them up I decided to come clean. “I have a hockey game tonight, and I can’t be late.”

  Will burst out laughing — not exactly the reaction I’d expected. Rose yawned. “You actually made that hockey team?” she asked.

  “I’m playing for a AA team, for your information,” I said, and stomped off.

  “Hey, Rigger. What time you got?”

  He stretched out in his chair and slowly raised his arm. “Five thirty, my little Mouse.”

  I groaned. I had to leave in fifteen minutes.

  “So what happened to your face?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I said, and rushed to the washroom to clean up. The blood came off my coat pretty good, but my sweatshirt was stained. I had my backup one in my sleeping bag. It was ugly, but it was better than showing up smelling like garbage. I washed the dirty one as best I could. Hopefully, it would dry by tomorrow. I was going to have to change into my other pants too, which was not good because I had worn them all last week and they were still dirty. I had to scrub real hard to get the dried blood off my face. It was all I could do to keep my eyes open, so the cold water felt good in a shocking way.

  Halfway up the ladder my shoulder started to burn like it was on fire, and my wrist was all achy. I stopped three times, and usually I didn’t stop at all.

  Creeper peered down at me. “What ya doing, Mouse?”

  Speaking would take too much energy. I had ten rungs to go. One at a time, I told myself.

  “Hurry up, Mouse. You having a baby?”

  I scrambled up the last few rungs.

  “What’s the deal? Did you forget something?”

  “Nah. I … um … I got a hockey game.”

  “Give me a break. How’s that?”

  “I was asked to play … on this team … the Rangers.”

  Creeper whistled. “That’s crazy stuff, Mouse. An Undergrounder playing hockey. What’s next? You going to go to school?”

  “Nothing that crazy.” I wanted to get going. I still had to pick up my stuff from my hiding place behind the Theatre.

  But Creeper seemed to have a million questions like everyone else. “So where do you play?”

  “Not sure exactly where. I’m meeting up with some guys on the team near the outdoor rink at Cedarview Park.”

  “Long walk — and it’s cold tonight. You should take the subway.”

  “Yeah, right. W5 took all my money.”

  Creeper nodded slowly and reached into his pocket. “Take this,” he said.

  It was a ticket for the subway. Why would a guy like him do that? It was nice all the same, and suddenly I felt like using his real name, but all I knew was Creeper. “That’s awesome. Thanks.”

  “I played a little when I was … your age. I was pretty good too. You can take it off the money I owe you.”

  We looked at each other. “Well, thanks again. I better get going.”

  “You go for it, Mouse. Score one for me tonight.”

  I flashed a thumbs up and opened the door.

  “Remember, the drawbridge locks at eleven o’clock tonight. Don’t be late.”

  “No problem. Game starts at seven thirty.”

  I stuffed the ticket into my pocket and headed to the subway, the hard snow crunching underfoot as I ran.

  Chapter 16

  Lou slapped his clipboard against his hand a few times and the guys quieted down.

  “Now that’s more like it,” he said. Lou was all red in the face and laughing and happy; all the Rangers were. Rasheed and Collin probably high-fived like a hundred times, and the parents had crowded the dressing-room door and clapped us in. They’d gone nuts when the game ended.

  “The monkey’s most definitely off our backs. See what happens when you work hard and commit to the system? Not to mention four power-play goals.”

  The guys let out a big cheer.

  “Three of them by Jonathon,” Rasheed yelled.

  Collin reached over and I high-fived him. I had to use my left hand because my wrist was really aching. My shoulder hurt too. Stickhandling hadn’t been too bad, but shooting was painful.

  I noticed Peter whispering to Jacob. They weren’t cheering along with the others. Lou had put me back on the point for the power play in Peter’s place, and he’d taken Jacob off Rasheed’s line for me.

  “Great win, Rangers,” Lou continued. “I can hardly wait for the next game. We practise on Thursday, so enjoy the victory and let’s see if we can build on it.’

  The coaches left, and I began to get undressed. But first I had to cough about ten times.

  Collin slapped my shin pads with a stick. “So, J-Man. Four goals in your first game — you’re practically our leading scorer already.”

  All of a sudden I felt weird in my head, like I was floating and looking at myself, and there was this empty feeling in my stomach.

  “What d’ya say, J-Man,” Collin said. “Big win, or what?”

  The room was quiet, and it dawned on me that all the guys were looking. The room smelled so bad, like dirty socks, even worse than the Underground, which is saying a lot.

  Rasheed leaned forward. “You okay, Jonathon?”

  Why was it so hot? “I’m good,” I managed. “That was fun. Good game.”

  I had to leave: it was a furnace, and now there was a pounding in my head. “I’ll wait for you outside.” I got up to go.

  “Did you come in your equipment?” Peter said, laughing at me. “This ain’t house league.”

  I was still wearing my pants and shin pads. I hated that jerk. A wave of hunger hit me. It wasn’t so bad during the game. I could have eaten my right hand now. Quick as I could, I ripped off my equipment, stuffed it into my bag, and without a word charged out.

  I must have looked like a freak, but if I hadn’t left I would have passed out for sure. The cold arena air cleared my head a bit and I headed for the lobby. How was I going to survive tonight? Maybe Lewis would have some bread. I’d never been so hungry in my life.

  “Jonathon, that was a fine game. On that third goal, I think you deked out the entire team. Well done.”

  It was Rasheed’s dad. And I couldn’t believe it when he handed me a carton of chocolate milk.

  “Best thing after a game,” he said. “Replaces the sugars after exercise. Of course, once you get to a certain age …” He patted his stomach.

  I inhaled it. I think he really saved my life — no kidding. I was that close to dying. I never tasted anythin
g so good — ever.

  “I see you like chocolate milk,” Rick said dryly.

  I kept forgetting Reggies were different, and they cared about manners and stuff. “Sorry. I didn’t really have time for dinner and I was … thirsty.”

  He laughed. “After that performance, you don’t have to apologize for anything. And if you’re hungry, let’s go to Johnny’s for burgers. We should celebrate the first win of the season.”

  A woman came over. “It’s getting a bit late, honey. Maybe we should do it another day.”

  Johnny’s was the burger place Rasheed loved. But I had no money.

  “This is a big occasion,” Rick said. “We’ll be quick, I promise. Besides, I’m hungry too.”

  She took a deep breath. “Well … okay. I guess this is an important moment.” She whispered to Rick, “I confess I didn’t think we were going to win a game all year.” She turned to a girl next to her. “Alisha, do you want to go with the boys to Johnny’s?”

  She rolled her eyes, as if her mom was wack for even asking.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” her mom said, laughing.

  Her laugh was nice. She squeezed Rick’s arm. “Try to get them back quickly. It is a school night.”

  “Let me introduce you to Jonathon,” Rick said, “our new scoring machine.”

  She held out her hand and I shook it. If she only knew about the garbage bin, she wouldn’t be doing that so quick.

  “You certainly had a wonderful game,” she said. “My goodness, how you can skate. I can only imagine how excited the boys are to do so well.”

  “They are … excited … to win, I guess, ma’am.”

  My mom taught me ladies like polite kids. Rasheed’s mom burst out laughing, though.

  “And good manners to go with his skills. What a charmer. Please call me Cynthia. It’s great to meet you, Jonathon. I’ll see you later, Rick.”

  Then came this killer awkward moment standing around with Rick and Alisha that felt like forever. Alisha looked at me a few times, but always turned away as if she’d done something wrong. I probably smelled like a garbage can, so I bet she was scared of me.

  I was never so happy to see Rasheed and Collin. Those guys take forever to get changed, and boy, are they loud. Next thing I know we’re all in the van, including Collin, off to this Johnny’s place. This was a nightmare. I had no money. I could not sit and watch them eat. It would be like torture. That chocolate milk was good, but I needed food.