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    The Mask
    The Mask
    The Mask
    Ebook112 pages1 hour

    The Mask

    By Eric Howling

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Fourteen-year-old Logan Grant is the star center for the Westside Wolves bantam hockey team. He has all the skills and all the looks, but he has alienated many of his teammates with his me-first attitude. One night Logan's life is forever changed when a fire sweeps through his house. He survives, but his face and body are badly burned. Too embarrassed to show his deformed face on the ice, Logan believes he'll never play hockey again until he stumbles across an old goalie mask that gives him the courage to get back to the rink. Taunted by the other players, Logan is defended by an unlikely ally, a teammate he once bullied because of his own facial disfigurement.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOrca Book Publishers
    Release dateAug 28, 2018
    ISBN9781459818811
    The Mask
    Author

    Eric Howling

    Eric Howling is the author of several sports-themed novels, including Plunge, Gang Tackle and The Mask in the Orca Sports line. His books have been shortlisted for the Hackmatack Children's Choice Book Award, named Resource Links Year's Best and picked as a CCBC Best Books selection. Eric lives and plays sports in Calgary.

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      Book preview

      The Mask - Eric Howling

      One

      Chapter One

      Logan Grant’s skates flashed across center ice. His strides were short and crisp. The puck stuck to his stick like it was on a string. A huge defenseman wearing a red uniform moved in to challenge him. Block him at the blue line. But he was no match for Logan’s speed. Nothing would stand in his way this afternoon. He shifted to his left and stickhandled around the big D-man like he wasn’t there.

      Now there was only the goalie to beat. The netminder edged out of his crease to cut down the angle. But Logan saw an opening on the right side. He wound up and blasted a slap shot. The goalie stabbed the air with his glove hand. But it was too late. The puck sailed right past him, bulging into the net behind.

      Logan raised his stick to celebrate. But there was no cheering from the crowd. No mobbing by his teammates. No skating by the bench and fist-bumping the other players. Instead, he skated straight to the corner of the rink. He turned sideways, cut his skates sharply into the ice and stopped, sending a spray of snow into the air. Then he smiled and said, Milk! It’s for everybody!

      Cut! shouted a man with a thick black beard who crouched behind a big video camera. Another man held a microphone on a long pole over Logan’s head. Bright lights shone down on the spot where he had stopped.

      That was really great, Logan, the bearded man said. But let’s do one more take. This time give me your biggest smile, right into the lens. He pointed at the front of the camera. Okay, let’s go again!

      Logan skated back to the other end of the rink and waited for the command.

      Action! The director’s voice boomed across the arena.

      Logan made his way up the ice, scored and stopped in the corner, sending another snowy spray toward the camera. He smiled the biggest, toothy grin he could and repeated his line.

      And cut! This time the smile on the director’s face was even bigger than Logan’s. I think we’ve got it, Pam.

      The director looked over his shoulder at Logan’s mom, who was watching a small video screen replaying the last take. Looks good to me, she said giving a thumbs-up.

      If the ad agency is happy, then I’m happy, the director said loud enough for all the crew to hear. That’s a wrap!

      Within minutes the lights were taken down, the camera and microphone were packed away in hard black cases and the ice was cleared of all the video equipment.

      Can we go now, Mom? Logan asked, skating slowly beside her. She was walking carefully across the slippery surface, but Logan didn’t offer his arm for support. I’ve got a real game to play. And it starts in less than an hour!

      His mom looked relieved as she grabbed the gate and stepped off the ice. She looked up at Logan, who was a lot taller in skates, and said, Do you want to change out of your uniform?

      What’s the point? I’m just going to put it on again in half an hour. I’ll ride in the car like this, he said, pointing a glove at his Westside Wolves blue jersey.

      Will you keep your skates on too?

      Logan rolled his eyes. Funny.

      Okay, see you out there.

      Logan put on his street shoes and then found his mom’s Jeep in the parking lot. As they pulled out, Logan looked through the frosty windshield at the bumper-to-bumper traffic. Oh, great, he said. Now I’m going to be late.

      But it was worth it. His mom shot him a quick grin. The commercial is going to turn out really well. You’ve got a great smile.

      It wasn’t Logan’s idea to be in the milk commercial. But his mom was the creative director at an advertising agency, and she was always asking him to be in her commercials. The last one he’d done was for some sort of cheese snack. Now he was recognized everywhere he went. He had to admit, he kind of liked being a little bit famous. It wasn’t every fourteen-year-old who got stopped on the street and asked, Haven’t I seen you on TV? Plus, he got to miss school for the photo shoots. That was the best.

      The team can start without you, she said, keeping her eyes on the snowy road. They know you’re on the way.

      What do you know about hockey? he snapped.

      I’m doing my best, Logan. I’m driving you to games and watching you play. I’m trying to learn.

      Dad knew a ton more.

      Well, your dad isn’t here, is he?

      Logan clenched his jaw. I can’t miss any of the game. Our team only has one player who can score—and that’s me. If I don’t get there on time, we don’t have a chance. We’ll lose for sure.

      You make it sound like you’re a one-man team.

      "Yeah, well, we are," Logan said.

      His mom’s fingers gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. I’m tired of fighting with you, Logan, she said quietly. I’ll get you to the arena as fast as I can.

      Logan looked away and spoke under his breath, I was never late when Dad drove me.

      Did you say something?

      No.

      The Jeep made one last turn, and the arena came into view. Just in time, Logan thought. The Wolves were probably on the ice, warming up. But if he hurried, he could be on the bench before the ref dropped the puck.

      As Logan hopped out of the Jeep he looked up and saw his grinning face high on a brightly lit billboard. He was holding a cheese stick, and the words SAY CHEESE! scrolled across the top in giant letters. Logan just shook his head. He didn’t feel much like smiling.

      Chapter Two

      Logan shot a glance at the scoreboard. He didn’t like what he saw. The Bowness Bruins were beating his Westside Wolves Bantam squad 1–0. He had managed to get to the game in time, but he hadn’t been able to score in the first two periods of play. Not even close. Now it was late in the third. The clock was ticking down.

      The Bruins had been pouring it on all game long. Blasting into the Wolves zone right from the opening face-off. Beating them to the puck. Digging it out of the corners. Winning every battle. Now they were on the attack again.

      Logan sat on the bench, waiting for his next shift. His eyes darted around the ice. He couldn’t wait to get back out there to show his teammates what he could do. He was the Wolves’ best player. He knew it. The rest of the team knew it. They depended on him to score.

      Logan hung a glove over the boards and watched the Bruins’ next rush. Their star winger was bursting up the right side. Long strides. Head up. Puck glued to his stick.

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