Wingman On Ice (6 page)

“Thanks, Coach,” said Tod.

He assisted for another goal during the second period. The game was going strong in the White Knights’ favor. When it ended,
the score was 8-5.

“Nice game, Tod,” someone said as they went off the ice.

Tod looked to see who had said that. It was Skip. He could hardly believe it.

“Thanks, Skip,” he said. “Guess I just had a lucky day.”

Riding home in Mr. Jones’s car, Tod thought,
If I can just play a few other games as I did today, maybe I could take that new hockey stick out of the closet. It would
be great to play with it. Just great.

They played the Trojans to a 3-3 tie on February 16. But Tod felt he didn’t do well, that he still did not deserve the new
hockey stick.

Manna Rink was crowded to the rafters the night of the Ice Show. Tod sat with Mom and Dad about halfway up and near the center
of the row of seats. They had a perfect view of the show.

Below them a band started playing. A moment later, from both ends of the rink, the performers came skating in in two long
lines. From the left were the boys, dressed in black tuxedos and black stovepipe hats. From the right were the girls, wearing
white
blouses, white skirts, and white stovepipe hats.

And, trailing after the girls, then skating up between them and the boys, came the two smallest girls in the whole show!

“Mom!” cried Tod happily. “Look! It’s Jane and Marylou!”

The crowd cheered and applauded. The noise almost crowded out the sound of the music.

At last the cheers and applause died away. Only the music was heard, mixed with the soft whispers of the skates. The skaters
danced to the music, each boy finding a partner to dance with. Jane and Marylou danced by themselves. Tod watched unbelievingly.
He had never dreamed that those two girls were that good.

He saw Ms. Hudson, too. And again he couldn’t get over what he had once thought about her.

For an hour the show moved on with breathless beauty and excitement. Intermission followed. The crowd stretched their legs
and many of them bought something to eat. After a while the show started up again. The spectators quieted down. The music
played. The skaters reappeared on the ice.

The show was going along beautifully when suddenly a terrific blast seemed to rock the whole building.

People screamed. The skaters on the rink stopped dead.

Someone shouted, “Look!” Faces turned and fingers pointed toward the left end of the building. Thick, black smoke was belching
through the doors. Seconds later, tongues of orange flame leaped out.

More people screamed. They rose from their seats and began hurrying to the exits.

A man shouted, “Don’t panic! Please, don’t panic!”

Tod realized it was Dad. He was standing up, his arms raised as he shouted. But few people paid any attention to him.

Down on the ice Tod saw the skaters heading for the exits, too. He couldn’t see Jane and Marylou. Already a lot of the spectators
had gotten on the ice. Many of them, while trying to hurry, had fallen.

“Tod! Mary!” cried Dad. “Go down there, find the girls, and take them out! I’m going to call the Fire Department!”

D
ad vanished in the crowd.

For a while fright gripped Tod. He took Mom’s hand and felt her sweating palm against his. He looked at her and saw her eyes
searching the rink.

“We must find Jane!” she cried.

They squeezed through the rows of seats to the aisle. People pushed, stumbled. Some fell. Whistles shrilled, and Tod saw several
policemen trying to keep the crowd from getting panicky. They did not have much success.

Tod and Mom reached the aisle. They hurried down the wooden steps to the cement walk that ran between the seats and the sideboards.
They started for the gate that was down at the end of the rink. But the crowd held them back. It would be ages before they’d
reach it and get on the ice.

Tod stared worriedly at his mother.

“Let’s climb over the boards!” she said.

She lifted herself up on them, swung her legs over, and jumped to the ice. Tod sprang over them and was instantly beside her.

“You’re in good shape, Mom!” he said.

They held each other’s hand as they tried to hurry across the ice. But hurrying was difficult, and Mom had trouble staying
on her feet. She hung onto Tod’s arm as tightly as she could.

They looked and looked for Jane. They came face to face with many of the performers but not Jane.

And what of Marylou? Perhaps the two girls were together. But where were they?

“Mom!” a voice shouted. “Mom! Tod!”

They turned. There was Jane, almost lost among the grown-ups who were trying to cross the ice. She skated toward them and
swung her arms around Mom, almost knocking Mom down. She looked up. Tears filled her eyes.

“Marylou’s back there!” cried Jane. “She fell on the ice! I think she’s sprained her ankle!”

Mom’s face turned white.

“Let’s go after her,” she said.

“Tod! Mrs. Baker!”

They looked around and saw Ms. Hudson skating toward them. Together they went after Marylou. They found her about ten feet
away. She was on her feet, but unable to skate. She was crying.

“I can’t move!” she sobbed. “I can’t move!”

Tod’s heart pounded. Marylou wasn’t very big, but still she would be almost too heavy for him to carry. Then he thought of
a way.

He got in front of her, turned around, and crouched on his haunches.

“Climb on my back,” he said. “I’ll carry you piggyback.”

She got on his back, and he started to carry her off the ice. This way she hardly felt heavy at all.

They reached the gate. Smoke poured thicker now from the end of the building. Flames were eating through the wood partition.
It wouldn’t be long before the fire reached the roof.

Tod choked back tears. He was thinking,
What if this beautiful building burned down? There would be no more skating. No more hockey.

Where were those fire engines? Had Dad called them yet? What was delaying them?

Tod, Mom, the girls, and Ms. Hudson just reached the exit when men in yellow slickers came rushing in, carrying water hoses.
They were here!

Outside, a fireman wearing a Fire Chief’s helmet stopped shouting orders as he saw Tod staggering out of the building with
Marylou on his back.

“Is she hurt?” he asked.

“Her ankle is sprained,” said Mom.

“Let me take her,” said the Fire Chief. “I’ll have one of the men put her in the ambulance and take a look at her ankle. Don’t
worry. She’ll be all right.”

He took Marylou off Tod’s back and started toward the white ambulance that was parked nearby. All at once a man and a boy
came running forward.

“Chief!” the man shouted. “Chief Brown! Just a minute!”

Tod stared. It was Mr. Farmer and Joe. They ran up to the Fire Chief and Mr. Farmer took Marylou into his arms. They stood
talking with Chief Brown for a moment, then the chief led them to the ambulance.

“Let’s go to our car, Mother!” cried Jane. “I’m freezing!”

“Dear me!” Mom said. “I’d practically forgotten you have so little on! Do you want to come with us, Ms. Hudson?”

“No. I have my own car. Brrr! I’m freezing, too! Good night! I’ll see you tomorrow, Tod!”

They walked hurriedly to their cars. Jane did the best she could with her skates on. Mom took a set of keys out of her purse
and got in behind the wheel. Dad, she said,
would come home with the fire truck. That might be in the wee hours of the morning.

As she drove out of the parking lot, Tod looked back at Manna Rink. Huge searchlights shone on the building. Smoke poured
through the windows where the fire had started. Flames licked through the outside wall.

Tod turned away. He didn’t want to look anymore. He closed his eyes and prayed that Manna Rink would still be there in the
morning.

T
hey didn’t go to bed. Mom said she would stay up and read until Dad came home. She wouldn’t be able to sleep, anyway.

Tod and Jane persuaded her to let them stay up, too. They changed into their pajamas and sat on the sofa together. They read
books. Every once in a while Tod glanced at the clock on the television set.

They sat there almost an hour. Then Jane began to yawn. She yawned several times. Finally, she said that she was going to
bed. Mom took her.

“Good night, Tod,” said Jane, yawning again.

“Good night, Jane,” Tod said, and had to yawn, too.

Half an hour passed. It was eleven o’clock, and Dad wasn’t home yet.

Tod reached the bottom of the page and realized he didn’t remember a thing he had read. His mind was on Manna Rink. He was
thinking of those frightened, screaming people. He was thinking of his dad. He was thinking of the flames licking at the walls
like the hungry tongues of a thousand dragons.

Manna Rink is gone. It’ll burn to the ground. There will be no more hockey games for us this year.

And what of my brand-new hockey stick? Oh, why did I make such a stupid promise? Why?

Twenty-five minutes after eleven. There was the sound of a motor outside. And voices.

“Dad’s home!” cried Tod.

He dropped his book and rushed to the window. Mom went with him. They pushed the draperies aside and looked out. They saw
the fire truck, its big headlights shooting huge beams through the darkness.

A moment later the truck drove off, and Tod saw Dad coming up the walk. Mom opened the front door for him. Her face was filled
with anxiety, just as Tod’s was.

Dad came in. He looked tired. He was still wearing a yellow slicker and a fire-man’s helmet. Mom closed the door and Dad stood
in front of it. He looked from Mom to Tod. His face was as sober as could be.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” he asked seriously.

“Dad!” Tod almost shouted. “How about Manna Rink?”

A smile flashed across Dad’s tired face. “Oh, one end got scorched. A partition was pretty badly destroyed. But that’s all.”

Tod’s eyes widened. “You mean the roof didn’t burn? You mean Manna Rink is still
there?”

Dad put his arm around Tod’s shoulder and gave him a firm hug. “Of course, it’s still there. Matter of fact, I’m sure that
hockey will keep going on as scheduled.”

“Whoop-e-e-e-e-e!” shouted Tod.

“Sh!” Mom said. “You’ll wake up Jane. Oh, I’m so glad that the fire didn’t get any worse. What a shame that it happened tonight.”

The ache in Tod’s heart melted away. He felt so happy he wanted to wake up Jane anyway and tell her the good news. But Mom
wouldn’t let him. He could tell her in the morning, she said.

He went to bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

He talked with Ms. Hudson the next day.

She already had heard the good news about the rink. She said that she felt sure there would be no more Ice Show this season
but hoped that there would be one next year.

“I called up Mrs. Farmer this morning,” said Ms. Hudson. “Marylou’s ankle is a little better.”

That evening, after supper, someone knocked on the door. Mom answered it. It was Mr. and Mrs. Farmer.

“Please come in!” she said.

Marylou was with them. She limped when she walked, but on her face was a bright, happy smile.

“Just wanted to tell your son how thankful we are about the way he took care of Marylou,” said Mr. Farmer. “Guess I was so
scared something real bad had happened to her last night that I didn’t even think about asking who had brought her out of
the building. Later on it was Marylou, herself, who told me.”

“We thought that was pretty quick thinking, Tod,” said Mrs. Farmer happily. “And it took a lot of spunk, too. We are all very
grateful to you.”

Tod blushed. “Lucky she wasn’t very heavy,” he said.

They stayed a while longer and talked with Mom and Dad. Then they left.

About seven-thirty the phone rang. Tod didn’t think it was for him, but he answered it anyway.

“Tod?” a voice said.

“Yes, this is Tod.”

“This is Mr. Haddock, Skip’s father,” said the voice. “I’m on the Father and Son Banquet Committee, Tod. The banquet will
be
held in honor of the boys who are playing hockey. The date is February twenty-eighth. The place, Packer Hotel. The time, seven
o’clock. Got all that?”

Tod swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

“Fine. Don’t forget. Tell your dad about it, and make sure you both come. You can pick up your tickets Saturday at the rink.
It’s reasonable—ten dollars will cover both of you. Good night, Tod.”

“Good night,” said Tod.

He hung up. His neck was red as he rose and went into the kitchen.

“Who was that?” Mom asked.

Tod shrugged. “It wasn’t anything important,” he said.

T
od took a drink of water, then went to his bedroom. From the top shelf of the clothes closet, he lifted off his large drawing
tablet and carried it into the dining room. He got a pencil and tried to think of what to draw.

Everyone else was in the living room. Dad had his shoes off and was reading the newspaper. Mom was reading a women’s magazine.
Jane was in her little rocking chair “feeding” her doll from a bottle.

For a while Tod sat there with the blank paper in front of him. He couldn’t think of
what to draw because he was thinking of that telephone call from Mr. Haddock.

He didn’t want to tell Dad about the Father and Son Banquet. Of course, Dad might consent to go. He might not want to hurt
Tod’s feelings.

But Dad didn’t care for sports anymore. Not since he had injured his knee while skiing. And what did he know about hockey?
Nothing.

A lot of those other fathers had played hockey. Most of them could skate. Some of them were coaches of the teams in the young
boys’ league. What would they think of Dad, who hadn’t seen a hockey game yet this year?

Of course, Dad worked Saturday mornings. But there had been practices at Manna Rink three nights a week just before the league
games had started. He would have
attended one or two of them, at least, if he had felt any interest, wouldn’t he?