Jack smiled wryly from where he sat halfway up the stands at centre ice. The arena was packed to capacity to see this exhibition game between the visiting Cree River Warriors and the Saskatoon Wolves. Yelina had left him with her half-eaten smoky-dog and half-drunk pop, and was now down in the corner at ice-level with Tina, Asta, and three of their team-mates. It was difficult to tell who the girls were cheerleading- whether it was one of the teams or certain of the boys on both teams- probably the latter.
The game got off to a bruising start. There was a lot of hitting. Jack got the impression right away that there was a history of bad blood between the players. The star of the Cree River Warriors was a big, athletic young man, Matthew Thunderchild, who stood out like a grown man among boys. It wasn't just his size that made him stand out. It was his poise, his grace, his athleticism, his intelligence-
The crowd stood up with a roar!
-his booming slapshot, that had found its mark from just over centre ice!
'Whoa!' a man in front of Jack said to his wife, 'that kid's going all the way to the NHL! Just you watch!'
Jack watched with wry wonder as the young man waved to his fans- no hamboning, no pretentious, overblown emotional display- skated to the corner, and began speaking to the girls. And to Yelina. Jack chuckled at the sight, and found that he was smiling, foolishly.
'You could have a fresh one,' Jack said as Yelina rejoined him and promptly ate her cold smoky-dog and drank her flat pop.
She shrugged, her mien thoughtful. 'Can I have some friends over tonight?'
'Until eleven, sure,' Jack told her. 'But not past eleven. It's a school night, remember.'
She sighed, elbows resting on knees, chin resting on her cupped palms, her expression dreamy. 'Okay. Can I have an ice-cream bar?'
'Sure, if you bring me one, too.'
To Jack's unsurprise, Yelina cadged a ride, along with Tina and Asta. They went with Matthew Thunderchild, who owned a beat-up but well maintained light-blue Chevrolet pickup. Once back at the house, of course, the kids disappeared into the basement.
As eleven o'clock drew near, Jack heard quiet drumming coming from the erstwhile carport, that was now converted into a band room. He didn't mind the kids making noise this late at night, as with the Whyte house gone, the nearest neighbours lived a block away.
Going to the band room to remind the kids of the time, he was surprised to discover that it was only Yelina and Matthew, and that it was Matthew who sat at Yelina's massive drum kit.
'Sorry, Sir, was I making too much noise?'
'Call me Jack,' Jack told him to put the young man at ease. 'No, you're not bothering anyone. I just came out here because it's almost eleven.' He looked over the musical equipment, wistfully. 'I used to play a bit myself. He nodded at the Taiko sticks Matthew was holding. 'How're you making out on that thing? You sounded pretty good.'
Matthew nodded in Yelina's direction. 'Short Stuff here can really wail on this setup! I've never seen anything like it. I thought I was pretty good, but-' he huffed. 'She really kicks my butt!'
'You've got fast feet,' Yelina told him. 'I could teach you.'
Matthew smiled at that. 'What, drum lessons? Sure . . . that is, if your dad doesn't mind.'
There was an awkward silence as Jack and Yelina struggled a moment with that, but at last, with a sigh, watching Yelina's reaction carefully, Jack said, 'No, he doesn't mind. He doesn't mind a bit.'