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Timberwolf Trap

Timberwolf Trap

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Timberwolf Trap

50 pagine
1 ora
Oct 1, 2007


Johnny Maverick and Tom Morgan are in a race for the league's goal-scoring trophy, but one or two other things are getting in the way. Like a joke on the coach. And, worse, the smelly socks of death...
Oct 1, 2007

Informazioni sull'autore

Sigmund Brouwer has written more than 100 books for readers of all ages including the 2015 Arthur Ellis Award-winning novel Dead Man's Switch (Harvest House). He is the author of the Justine McKeen series and the Howling Timberwolves series in the Orca Echoes line. He visits over 150 schools per year, speaking to over 60,000 students. Sigmund lives in Red Deer, Alberta.

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Timberwolf Trap - Sigmund Brouwer


Chapter One

A Secret Mission

Not again, Johnny said to his dad.

It was night. Game time was a half hour away. Johnny and Dad were standing beside Dad’s big black 4x4 truck in the parking lot of the rink. Dad had parked his truck beside Coach Smith’s small blue car.

Again, Dad said to Johnny Maverick. Dad lifted a small gas can from the back of his truck and put it on the snow at Johnny’s feet. I’ll watch for cars. You pour. Remember that Coach Smith can’t find out we’re doing this.

Dad, this will make me the last guy in the dressing room again, Johnny said. He was a center for the Howling Timberwolves hockey team. Just like last game when we did this. And the game before.

Coach Smith can’t catch us when he is in the dressing room, Dad said. Besides, you’ll have plenty of time. Who cares if you are the last guy in the dressing room?

I do, Johnny said. The last two guys always have to sit beside Dale. The rest of the dressing room fills up first as far away from him as possible.

I’ve heard about the smelly socks of death, Dad said. I didn’t know it was that bad.

It’s worse than bad, Johnny said.

Sorry. Dad released the cap of the gas tank of Coach Smith’s small car. Help me with this, and I will owe you. How’s that?

I wish instead you would just tell me why we are putting gas into Coach Smith’s car three games in a row.

I heard you once locked Eldridge in the janitor’s closet with Stinky, Dad said.¹

Stinky was a slow fat dog that hung around the rink. Stinky made loud rude noises that did not come from his front end. Getting stuck in a closet with Stinky was not good, at least not if you liked breathing. Eldridge knew that now.

You heard about that? Johnny asked. He wondered if he should try to tell his Dad it had been an accident.

Don’t try to tell me it was an accident, Dad said.

Of course not, Johnny

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