Undergrounders (11 page)

“Fits nice,” he said. “I knew it. Perfect. I totally dig it, dude.”

“Thanks, Lewis. I … uh … it’s great.”

I looked like a complete doofus.

“Why don’t we hang out today,” he said all sudden-like. “You doing anything?”

“Not really. Just going to the Market with J.J., and maybe Will and Rose. Dunno.”

“Blow them off. Stick with me. I got a way to make way more money than hawking with them.” He put an arm around my shoulders. “You’re better than them, Mouse. You need to take advantage of your skills. Why waste your time hawking a few quarters a day just to give them to Rigger.”

He said Rigger like it was a dirty word. No one talked about Rigger like that. Of course, Lewis wasn’t afraid of anyone.

He pointed toward my store. “I also noticed you picked up a sweet sleeping bag. Where’d you snatch
that?”

It had been three weeks since I’d stolen it from Rasheed’s van, but as much as I loved it, I couldn’t shake the guilty feeling, and I didn’t want to sound like a slimer to Lewis, so I lied.

“The army surplus store had it outside. I guess like what you called a sidewalk sale. I grabbed it when they weren’t looking.”

Lewis slapped the couch. “That’s what I mean, Mouse. You’re good, dude. That sleeping bag will keep you healthy. Keep your eyes open for stuff; stake a place out and make your move. You’re small, so people won’t notice you.”

“Okay, Lewis.”

He reached into another box and pulled out some bread and a jar of peanut butter, and handed me a Swiss Army knife from his pocket. It was a sweet knife, gleaming black with like a hundred blades and gadgets attached. I didn’t waste any time making a sandwich. I had only eaten three Chinese buns yesterday, and I was starved.

“I hear you’re still playing hockey?” he said.

I had to swallow hard to get the bread down. “I made a AA team. We won five games and then lost to the first-place team. We got a game tonight, and then three more after that. If we win two or three games we should make the playoffs, which is a miracle since we hadn’t won a game before I joined.” That last part sounded like bragging, and I wished I hadn’t said it.

“I don’t really like the idea of you hanging around
Reggies … but I gotta admit I’m impressed. And it gives you something to do other than hawkin’ with J.J.” A look of disgust came over him when he mentioned J.J.

“You’re right. He’s so lame.”

“Have one more piece and I want to go to the mall.” He grabbed his knapsack.

I slathered another slice of bread with peanut butter and followed him to the ladder. This was going to be an awesome day. Hang with Lewis, and then a game tonight.

I hadn’t been to the mall since that lady had caught us in the stairwell. Lewis didn’t seem too interested in the story when I tried to tell him on the way over. We went in and wandered around. Didn’t seem like Lewis was interested in anything, least of all me, because he barely said a word the whole time. I knew better than to bug him with questions.

We’d walked to the end of the mall and back twice, when he steered me toward the food court. “You want some fries?” he asked.

I said, “Sure,” even though that was maybe the dumbest question I’d ever heard. He even got me a large, which was cool because they were hot and perfectly crispy.

“You want any?” I offered.

Lewis shook his head.

“Big mistake. These are truly good fries. Are you sure?”

That pushed it. “I don’t want your fries. Eat them yourself,” he said in his tough voice. But then he laughed, and reached over and grabbed a few. “Thanks, Mouse. Maybe I will.” He sat back and put his hands behind his head. “Hawking is kinda tough, ain’t it?”

I munched down a few more fries and nodded.

“I used to be like you. Struggling to hawk some cash, lucky to get two bucks a day, and after you eat and pay Rigger or someone else for rent what do you got? A big fat zero, that’s what.”

I dug my fingers deep into the carton to get the last few fries.

“Hawking is a waste of time. So I’m gonna teach you how to make some real money — not two bucks a day, but two hundred.”

“How can I do that?” It sounded impossible. Did Lewis make two hundred bucks a day?

“Are you finished?” he said, pointing to the carton.

“I am.”

“Good. Come on and I’ll show you.” He pulled a hat out of his pocket and put it on, and then I followed him into an electronics store.

A skinny guy with a bright-red shirt was talking with a customer as we walked in, and another guy with the same red shirt stood behind the cash. Lewis led me to the other side of the store around a tall display unit. Before I could ask what we were doing here, Lewis stuffed some boxes into the pockets of my coat. It happened so fast I couldn’t do anything. He just did it.

“Follow me,” he ordered.

He stopped behind another display and stuffed more boxes into the inside coat pockets, and added these keychain-looking things into the outer pockets.

“What are you …?”

“Shut up,” he hissed. “Do what I tell you and everything will be fine. I’m going to buy something at
the cash. Did you see the two white columns at the front of the store when we walked in?”

I nodded.

“Those are the alarms. You can’t walk between them or the alarm will go off. But to the right there’s a space, between the pillar and the window. I’m too big, but a little guy like you can sneak through no problem. Walk through that space and head out of the mall and wait for me.”

He walked away before I could answer. The taste of the fries in my mouth made me feel sick and I suddenly felt like I had to go to the toilet real bad.

Lewis was talking to the guy at the cash. The skinny one was still dealing with the customer. If I tried to return the stuff to the shelves they’d see me for sure, not to mention Lewis would definitely kill me. What choice did I have? I tried to ignore the gross feeling in my gut and walked slowly to the front, pretending to look at some batteries.

I looked at the right column. Like Lewis said, there was a small space. I looked over to the cash. Lewis was handing the money over. He shot me a glance, which I knew meant get going!

I held my breath and walked out.

Nothing — no alarm. I’d made it.

“Can you come back to the store, please.”

I felt a hand grab at my coat. I looked over my shoulder. It was the skinny guy, and he was laughing.

“I might want to see what’s in those pockets,” he said.

Not a good idea, I thought, so instead I started to run forward. He pulled hard on my hood. “No you don’t,” he said, still laughing.

I heard the crackling sound of Velcro separating. He stopped laughing pretty quick when the hood came off. I was free.

I ran like crazy, weaving in and out of people.

“Stop that kid!” he yelled.

A few Reggies looked at me funny but no one did anything. Up ahead I noticed the washroom sign, and that gave me an idea. I cut left and ran down the corridor and smashed into the door marked
No Exit
. I knew it led to the secret stairwell. I practically flew down the stairs and was sprinting down the street before I knew it.

I ran and ran and ran until I couldn’t take another step. I just had to stop for a second. Hands on my knees, struggling to breathe. I looked around for any signs of the skinny guy, or anyone in a red shirt — or a security guard. I didn’t see anyone and took off again, this time a bit slower. Only then did I notice I’d run all the way back to the train station. I figured I should keep going to the Underground and Lewis would meet me there. I wondered if he’d got caught.

Lewis was going to blame me for sure. But it wasn’t my fault the skinny guy saw me. It was a lame plan. I had a coat that was like five times too big. And how obvious is it to try to sneak around the alarm columns? And why didn’t he tell me what we were doing? I’d rather hawk all day than go through that again. No way was I stealing from a store again. I felt bad enough
about the skates, and then the sleeping bag. But the skates were supposed to be a one-time thing. Without hockey my life would be … I don’t know … not worth the trouble. And the sleeping bag, well, that was different because I needed it to stay warm. But this?

I pulled out something from the inside pockets. It was an iPod. The keychain things were memory sticks for computers. This stuff was expensive.

The drawbridge flew open and Rigger came out. I’d never seen him outside, and he didn’t look too happy to see me.

“I told you guys no loitering,” he barked.

“I’m not … loitering.” I didn’t know what the word meant, only that Rigger didn’t like it. I knew Rigger would ask more questions, so I lied. “I’m waiting for Lewis. He told me to meet him here.”

“I don’t care. Beat it. You’ll attract the cops, so get lost.”

You didn’t argue with Rigger, unless you wanted some bruises. I went back up the hill and was thinking of what to do next when I spotted Lewis waving at me across the street. A huge smile crossed his face as he came over.

“Mouse, that was grace under pressure. How’d you get away?”

I told him about the door to the stairway.

“That’s using your street smarts, Mouse. I knew hawking was a waste of your talents.” He pulled me toward the hill. “I wanna check out the haul.”

“Rigger’s down there,” I said, pulling away. For
some reason, I didn’t like him touching me.

“Okay, fine. We’ll go to the field behind the station.”

Lewis talked the whole way about what a great team we were and how much money we were going to make together and another store he knew that would be twice as easy to steal from, and that now he could pay W5 the money he owed and he could do business with him again. He talked so fast my head was spinning. The whole time I couldn’t stop thinking about what my mom would say. I’d once stolen a pack of gum from a store when I was a little kid and she’d made me take it right back and apologize. She was dead set against stealing. She used to call me her “angel boy.” Those were the last words she ever said to me.

I wasn’t an angel; I was a criminal.

When we got to the field, Lewis pulled all the stuff from my pockets. “Total score,” he announced. “Two iPods, at least fifteen memory sticks, four iPod shuffles, and a few earphones to boot. Your first major heist, and it’s a beauty.” He stuffed it all into his knapsack. “I’m gonna move this stuff — and you’ll get your share. Trust me. This is fantastic, and it’s only the beginning. You did great. Tomorrow I have an even better idea.”

“I don’t want to do this again.”

Lewis’s head jerked back, like he’d been punched. “
What?
You don’t want to make lots of money?”

“I don’t want to steal like that again. My mom told me …”

“What’s your mom got to do with anything? We just
made a ton of cash, and you’re backing out on me, after everything I’ve done for you? Don’t forget, I got you into the Underground.” He looked at me real hard.

“I know, Lewis, and I’d do anything to help you, I swear. Only, I don’t want to do this again. It’s … It’s …” I was going to say it’s not right, but that would make him mad. “I just don’t want to.”

He shoved me in the chest and swung the knapsack onto his back. “You think you’re a big shot? We’ll see. You’re called Mouse for a reason. I’ll take this as payback for all the free stuff I gave you. Don’t expect any more from me. Better yet, you should stay as far away from me as you can, if you know what’s good for you. You can go hang with your hockey team, instead. Tell them you’re a street kid, while you’re at it. I bet they’d love to know that.”

I watched Lewis stomp off. He was my best friend, I told myself. It would be okay. He had a bit of a temper. I just needed to let him calm down. Anyway, I guess I knew now how Lewis made so much money. He was a criminal. That’s why he was into Fitzy’s plan. And now I could also guess what was in the packages I delivered to W5.

Maybe I was no angel boy. But I hoped my mom would be proud of me right now, just a little.

I took a deep breath. My legs were a bit shaky. I’d played practically the whole third period. We had to at least tie this game or we’d miss the playoffs. Things hadn’t gone as well lately, and we’d lost two of our last four. And now it was down to this game. Everyone thought it would be no problem because it was against the Nationals, and they sucked. But here we were, down a goal, with just over a minute to go.

“Draw it back to me,” Peter said, which is what he says every faceoff. That would be a great idea — so he could give the puck away! Sometimes I did it anyway because a few guys were giving me the gears about hogging the puck and too much ice time. Even the parents were making comments.

Rasheed tapped my shin pads. “We’ve got to get it in deep, so we can pull our goalie. Their winger will be parked at the top of the circle. Knock it to me and I’ll get it out.”

That sounded like a better plan.

“Let’s get that goal, Rangers,” Collin bellowed.

I’d been shadowed the entire game by this one guy, and sure enough there he was — a total pest, and dirty too. He’d been hooking and slashing me all game, and the ref hadn’t called anything. He pointed to his winger,
as if he were going to win the draw. Fat chance.

I watched the puck in the ref’s hand, and slapped it to Rasheed. Unfortunately, their left winger got on it quick, and Rasheed couldn’t get enough on it to send it out of our zone. Their defenceman wired it back along the wall and around the net, with Peter in pursuit and Collin in front.

I checked out the time — one minute. Great! The game would be over before we touched the puck. I drifted into the slot.

“Get outta my way, runt,” the centre said, and he cross-checked me in the back. As usual, the refs did nothing.

“Don’t feel like it,” I said, and slashed his ankle real quick. Before I had a chance to enjoy his reaction, the jerk gave me a butt-end into my side. It hurt bad. I was happy that Collin came over. “I got him covered,” he said, which let me go after the puck. I was glad to be rid of him.

Rasheed and Peter were battling two Nationals for the puck. Rasheed spotted me when I was about ten feet away. He grabbed a guy’s stick and was able to kick the puck free. I figured he’d get a penalty for that, and maybe the Nationals did too because they slowed down.