These are Reggies, after all: what do they understand about street life? There’s trouble at the Underground, too. Soon, comments fly behind Jonathon’s back about how he hogs the puck, how he always gets a ride from fellow teammate Rasheed, and how he smells. It all seems too good to be true, and it is. A few games eventually lead to an offer from the team’s coach to join the team. But after stealing some brand-spanking-new (and expensive, too) hockey equipment, Jonathon can’t resist joining in a few games. He didn’t mean to get involved with the Reggies, the regular kids, and their hockey games. Paying fifty cents a night to Rigger, the guy who runs the Underground, is worth having a roof over his head at night. Twelve-year-old Jonathon has been an Undergrounder on the streets ever since his mom died. I like to help.”īefore I could say anything he spun around and pushed the bucket back down the hall. “I know what it means for boy to skate alone in the morning. Then he reached into his pocket and dropped a toonie in my lap. “You skate good,” he said.Ī bit random, but I said thanks all the same. He shook his head and began to mop the floor. He stopped in the middle of the room and stared at me so long I started to think I’d done something wrong. I’d barely got my skates off when that scraggly janitor walked up the hall, pushing a bucket by the mop handle.
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