Maddie's eyes sparkled. "I can do the lutz on dry land. I've been practicing."
My heart swelled. "Then you’ll get it on the ice. Once you have the feel, all it takes is a little bravery."
"And speed. Can we go on now?"
The ice gleamed, and if Maddie fell she'd be soaked. But I didn't want to put the idea of falling into her head. She was focused and raring to go. Why dampen that?
She nailed the lutz on her third attempt, then repeated it when her dad showed up. After she left, I turned off theWizard of Ozsoundtrack, put on my skating playlist, and started with some lazy laps. My hair whipped at my cheeks as I turned backwards, launching into an easy single axel. Inspired by Maddie, I picked up speed and did a double toe-loop, then a triple. It had been years since I'd attempted a triple lutz, and since Maddie was willing to fall on her ass a few times, I pickedup speed, glided on my left foot, the right poised to stab the ice and launch me into my lutz, but I hesitated, and popped it.
By now I was breathing hard, and rested my hands on my knees as I recovered. Maddie was a recipient of the Chance Rapids Women's Benevolence Society's sports program. The ladies raised funds to pay for ice time for kids whose parents couldn't afford to send them to the regular lessons. Debbie, one of the organizers, tried to pay me for coaching, but I refused. My mom had been the first of the society's figure skating coaches, and if it wasn't for the little old ladies and their bake sales, I wouldn't have made it to Nationals at the age of fifteen.
The town gave the program a highly reduced rate for its ice time. Would the owner of a multi-million dollar sports complex let little girls skate for free? I knew the answer. If this rink got torn down, kids like Maddie would slip through the cracks.
"Try it again!" A voice echoed through the building.
Donnie, the Zamboni driver, leaned on the boards, holding his work gloves. I hadn't noticed that he'd opened the doors and the machine sat idling behind him.
"My time is over." I pointed to the faded Coca-Cola time clock.
"They canceled public skating,” Donnie shouted. "You've got all the time in the world, and I've seen you land that one before."
Donnie had been the custodian at the rink since I was a kid, and I think he'd had a thing for my mom. He always let her stay a little longer so I could run my routines alone on the ice. I wasn't ready to try another lutz. I skidded to a stop next to Donnie and propped my hip against the boards. "Why did they cancel? The weather?"
"I'm not sure, kid. The mayor called and left a message telling me it was canceled."
Mavis.
"Hey, Donnie. Have you heard anything about a new hockey team coming to town?"
His furrowed brow told me he hadn't. "A new hockey team? No. I haven't heard anything about that, but I'm usually the last to know about these things." He put on his gloves. "It'll be tough to fit another team on the schedule."
I jabbed the toe-pick of my skate into the ice. "Yeah. This morning Mavis was at the cafe meeting a developer. The town is thinking about selling the rink. They want to put up townhouses here."
The toothpick in Donnie's mouth stopped moving. "What else did you hear?"
"I probably shouldn't say anything, but then again, if they didn't want anyone hearing their shitty plans, they shouldn't have held their meeting at the coffee shop. Some NHL team owner is expanding the Northern Professional Hockey League into the west. He wants to build a big fancy rink here for his team."
Donnie lips formed a line around the toothpick. He nodded. "I see. So why tear this down? This barn is a classic, and we really could use two ice surfaces in town."
Leaning my elbows on the boards, I studied the scratch marks in the ice, noting the gouge I'd created on my flubbed lutz attempt. "I think the hockey team and new rink is a ruse. The developer just wants to build townhouses on the land, and by building a new rink, he'll get this land for basically nothing. Or something like that."
Shaking his head, Donnie clapped his work gloves together. "What is happening to this town?"
"I know.” I sighed. "I'm worried about the skating program, Donnie. Do you think we can stop this?"
His shoulders sagged. "I doubt it, honey. But we've gotta try. The church ladies are a lot more powerful than you think. I'dstart with them. Wait a minute." He tilted his head. "What does Logan Brush think about this? The Bobcats fill this rink every weekend."
"I don't know, Donnie. I think Charlotte was a little caught off-guard this morning too."
"BJ was there?"
Donnie was old enough to remember when Charlotte's name was Billie-Jo. "Yes."
"Start with her. Get her on your side. Logan grew up skating here. If there's anything I know about hockey players, it's that we're superstitious and sentimental. He'll want to save this place." Donnie's eyes shimmered. His job could be on the line too.
"Not all of them." I kicked at the ice with my toe-pick. "Guess who is representing the developer." I didn't wait for Donnie to guess. "Beckett Shepherd."
"No shit." Donnie put on his gloves. "He was a good kid, but money does funny things to people."
