Ice Time by David Skuy Read Free Book Online

other. Hockey was a fairly small world, so maybe it wasn’t that weird. But couldn’t the guy let go of something that had happened ages ago? Rocket had only been twelve!
    Rory was right. Rocket would butter Barker up and ask for advice. The “suck up” was the perfect play.
    He felt better already. Hopefully, the apartment would be okay, and he’d get that out of the way. Then tomorrow he’d have the best game of his life.

CHAPTER 10
    Rocket choked back a cough as the bus pulled away, leaving a belch of black smoke. That trip took a lot longer than he’d thought — forty minutes. He should have checked the distance to the arena. There’d be a lot of travel time if he lived here.
    The first three places he’d looked at were near the arena, but they were crazy expensive. Plus, they weren’t furnished, so he’d have to spend a fortune on furniture and kitchen stuff.
    This was the last viewing he’d booked. If this didn’t pan out, he’d have to stay in the hotel even longer. At this rate, he wouldn’t have anything left to send home for Maddy’s tuition.
    He looked around. This place reminded him of his old neighbourhood, and that wasn’t a good memory. The buildings were old and grey, the stores generally rundown and small — ma-and-pa shops, or fast food. He noticed a dingy second-hand clothing store and a lot of bars.
    He checked the address on his phone. This was definitely it — 78 Headley Avenue. It was a squat, ugly red-brick apartment building with small balconies running up each side of the front. A few units had air conditioners sticking out of windows. Rocket pressed the superintendent button.
    “Hello?” a man said.
    “Hi … It’s Bryan Rockwood. I emailed you about the place for rent.”
    “Who is it?” Rocket heard a woman ask.
    “Someone is here to see the room,” the man said.
    The door buzzed, and Rocket went into the lobby.
    The room? How small was the apartment?
    To his right, he noticed a door with a gold nameplate:
Superintendent
. The door opened, and a short, slight man with thick black hair and a big smile stepped out. His eyes were bright, his movements quick and decisive, and his handshake was firm. Rocket took an instant liking to him.
    “Very nice to meet you, Bryan. I am Ricardo, but everyone calls me Ritchie, ever since I was a little boy. I am thirty-six years old, and still I am called by my boy name.” He laughed heartily and motioned Rocket to come into his apartment.
    “That’s kind of a coincidence — you’re thirty-six and that’s my new hockey number,” Rocket said.
    Ritchie’s eyes grew big. “You are a hockey player? I was thinking you are here for schooling. We get many students in this place. But who do you play with?” His English wasn’t the best, and he had a heavy accent. Rocket wondered where he came from.
    “I’m playing for the Pinewood Racers, the AHL team.”
    “My son loves hockey very much. I do not understand it well, but I like it, too. We play mostly football where I come from — what you call soccer.” He paused. “The Racers play hockey at the Pinewood Barns, yes?”
    “That’s right.”
    “My wife is working there, as a cleaner.” Ritchie’s smile faded. “They do not treat her very nice. But it gives more pay than fast food places.” Suddenly, his good humour seemed to return, and he laughed. “We knew we would be making much sacrifices to come here, but our children will have a better life. So we will work hard. Anyway, please come in and see the room.”
    But instead of leading Rocket to another apartment, he pointed into his own unit.
    “The room is where exactly?” Rocket said.
    “Rafa and Leona will move in together, and you can take Rafa’s room,” Ritchie said. “It is a little small, the room, but very nice — and it has a window that you can open and get fresh air.”
    Rocket wasn’t worried, more like confused. They wanted him to live here — with them?
    He noticed a picture on the wall.