Chapters (56)
- Cover
- Dedication
- 1.1 [close to the bone]
- 1.2 [and introducing...]
- 1.3 [half-split]
- 1.4 [the Semple challenge]
- 1.5 [Brickpower]
- 2.1 [shaker up]
- 2.2 [heavyweight]
- 2.3 [♀]
- 2.4 [hired hand]
- 3.1 [wheels and deals]
- 3.2 [don’t cry over spilled ...]
- 3.3 [three’s a crowd]
- 3.4 [“If You Want Blood (You’ve Got It)” or “Night of the Long Knives,” take your pick]
- 4.1 [all the comforts of home]
- 4.2 [white knight]
- 4.3 [pay dirt]
- 4.4 [book learning]
- 5.1 [AQ]
- 5.2 [kihon, kata, kumite]
- 5.3 [pride and prejudice]
- 5.4 [hurt and humiliation]
- 5.5 [“King of the Road”]
- 6.1 [“Father and Son”]
- 6.2 [nothing succeeds like success]
- 6.3 [naked]
- 6.4 [nakeder (I know, there’s no such word)]
- 7.1 [42 km/hr]
- 7.2 [first aid]
- 7.3 [interest is mounting daily]
- 8.1 [kiai]
- 8.2 [kumite (sparring)]
- 8.3 [white knight II]
- 8.4 [Hope is the thing with feathers—that perches in the soul ... Emily Dickinson. American poet, 1830–86. I’m showing off.]
- 9.1 [white knight III]
- 9.2 [“Dead Man Walking”]
- 9.3 [tattletale]
- 9.4 [scat]
- 9.5 [painstaking]
- 10.1 [buzzed]
- 10.2 [amethyst: spiritual calm and healing]
- 10.3 [self-defense]
- 10.4 [self-disclosure]
- 11.1 [self-respect]
- 11.2 [guerrilla warfare]
- 11.3 [Sensei (teacher)]
- 11.4 [“The Razor’s Edge”]
- 12.1 [man to man]
- 12.2 [Tully]
- 12.3 [Hockey Night in Hilchey Bay]
- 12.4 [“If You Want Blood (You’ve Got It)”]
- 12.5 [rerun]
- 12.6 [“the end is the beginning ...” Japanese koan composed by Brickson MacAvoy]
- [author’s note]
- [acknowledgements]
Her nose and my nose—it worked just fine.
12.3 [Hockey Night in Hilchey Bay]
WHEN CASSIE and I go home, Opal and Floyd are both in the living room. Floyd says, “Where have you been?”
“We took a picnic by the river.”
“Cassie, where were you?”
She shrinks back. Says nothing.
“You’ll both eat supper at home from now on.”
Keep your cool. It’s too soon to provoke him. “Yes, sir.”
His lips thin. “I registered you for hockey today.”
“No.”
Silence thick enough to serve as porridge for breakfast. “What do you mean, no? You’re in Midget this year.”
I stand tall; the muscles in my legs tighten. “I’m not playing hockey this winter.”
“You’ll do as I say.”
“I’m into running. And weights.”
“Good. Perhaps your hockey will improve.”
“I hate hockey! I have for years.”
“You think I care?”
“I know you don’t.”
Opal interrupts. “Cassie, it’s past your bedtime. Go upstairs and clean your teeth. Brick, you’ll do as your father says.”
“I’m not playing hockey. What’s he going to do—tape my mouth shut and drag me out on the ice?”
Right now, RQ feels as cold as ice. Bizarre. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Opal, I’m not a kid anymore. Next time he hits me, I’m going to report him to the cops.”
“We’ll see about that,” Floyd says.
I brace myself, but he doesn’t make a move, just stares at me like he’s never seen me before.
“I’m going upstairs,” I say. “Good night.”
Turning my back on him feels like teetering, blindfolded, on the edge of a cliff with a firing squad behind me.
Nothing happens.
I walk up the stairs, go into my room, and close the door. For a long time I lie awake, thinking. Floyd, Docker, Rolf, Mr. Semple. Which one do I want to be like when I grow up? Or will I turn into Floyd regardless?
12.4 [“If You Want Blood (You’ve Got It)”]
TWO DAYS later, I’m home by myself for once. Opal has taken Cassie into town to register her at Happy Whale Daycare because the unpaid babysitter—me—will soon be in school.
Floyd’s biding his time. AQ is astronomical.
It’s the hottest day so far this summer, the humidity like wading upriver. I go through my routine anyway then turn on the TV, just because I can.
A vehicle drives up to the house. The Hummer. Floyd never comes home for lunch.
I stand back from the kitchen windows and watch. His shirtsleeves are rolled up. No tie. He marches to the backyard and starts tugging logs from the woodpile, tossing them on the grass. Has he gone out of his mind?
Serious question.
Has he?
I decide I’d better find out.