Free Timberwolf Hunt by Sigmund Brouwer

Chapter One
A Trapped Bat
    â€œShut the door!” Stu Duncan said to Johnny Maverick.
    â€œWe need help!”
    Johnny had just walked into the dressing room with his hockey equipment. Stu was his best friend. They played for the Howling Timberwolves. The team was getting ready to play the Grizzlies.
    â€œI agree that you need help,” Johnny said to Stu. “A doctor should see if you still have a brain.”
    The rest of the players laughed. It looked like Johnny was right.
    Stu was standing in the middle of the room. His hockey bag was at his feet. He was holding a hockey stick straight up. He was pushing the butt end of the
    stick against the bottom of a plastic bucket. It pressed the top of the bucket against the ceiling.
    â€œI’m standing here for a good reason,” Stu said. “I have trapped a bat under the bucket.”
    â€œA bat?” Johnny said. “A hairy bat? With wings? And fangs?”
    â€œBats don’t have fangs,” Stu said.
    â€œYes, they do,” Johnny said. “Big fangs. Dripping with blood. You should see them in my comic books.”
    â€œJohnny,” Stu said, “I hate to break it to you. It’s like Santa Claus.”
    â€œSanta Claus has fangs in your comic books?” Johnny said. “Cool. Can I borrow your comic books?”
    â€œNo,” Stu said, “Santa Claus is not real. Just like the bats in your comic books. Real bats don’t have fangs. Now can you help me?”
    Johnny put down his hockey bag. “Sure.”
    â€œGood,” Stu said. “Hold this stick and press it hard against the bucket. Keep the bat trapped while I get Mr. Gregg.”
    Mr. Gregg was in charge of the arena. He ran the ice-cleaning machine and cleaned the dressing rooms.
    â€œI can get Mr. Gregg if you like,” Johnny said.
    â€œPlease hold the stick,” Stu said. “Let me get Mr. Gregg. My arms are tired. I don’t want the bat to get loose.”
    â€œAll right,” Johnny said. “Just make sure that Mr. Gregg doesn’t bring Stinky with him. That would be worse than a bat with fangs.”
    Stinky was Mr. Gregg’s dog. It was big and fat and slow. Everyone in the town of Howling knew about Stinky. They knew there was a good reason that Stinky was called Stinky.
    â€œI want to live,” Stu said. “I’ll make sure Stinky does not come into the dressing room with Mr. Gregg. Now will you hold this bucket for me?”
    Johnny took the stick.
    Stu stepped away.
    â€œHey,” Johnny said. He looked up at the bucket. “This is heavy!”
    Stu did not answer. He pulled his own hockey bag away from Johnny. He moved Johnny’s hockey bag closer to Johnny’s feet.
    â€œThis bucket is heavy!” Johnny said again. “It must be a really big bat!”
    â€œThe bucket is filled with water,” Stu said. He laughed. “Don’t let go or you will get wet! And you will get your hockey bag wet too!”
    Everyone else laughed too.
    â€œWater?” Johnny said. He pushed the hockey stick hard against the bottom of the bucket. He did not want to get wet. He did not want to get his hockey bag wet. “You played a trick on me.”
    â€œIt’s a good trick. But it wasn’t my idea. It was Tom’s.”
    Tom Morgan was another friend. Johnny had once made him wear a dress to a hockey game, but that was another story.
    â€œTom’s idea?” Johnny said.
    Tom was in the corner of the room. He grinned.
    â€œYes, Johnny,” Tom said, “we’ve played this trick on everyone. They all had turns holding the stick. Stu was the guy who came in just before you did.”
    â€œGreat,” Johnny said. The bucket was heavy. He didn’t want all the water to drop on him. He kept pushing hard against the bottom of the bucket. “I’m the last guy.”
    â€œNo,” Tom said, “you are the second last guy. Remember? While Coach Smith