Theo's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Theo was four years old, and he wanted to play for the Ottawa Senators. But he had no skates and no stick. You cannot become a hockey player with empty hands. He knew this, and it made his chest hurt. He searched the whole house for his stick. He looked under his bed and behind the couch. He found dust and one old sock. No stick anywhere. His backwards red cap slid low over his eyes, and he pushed it up. So Theo went outside to look. He walked past a thick patch of green ferns. Something stuck out of the leaves. He pulled it free. It was a tree branch, long and bent at the bottom, curved just like a real hockey stick. The wood was smooth and warm from the sun. "This can be my stick," Theo said. He swung it. It whooshed through the air. Now he needed a puck. He looked for a rock, a bottle cap, anything flat and round. An orange cat watched him from the grass. Beside the cat sat a big black dog, still as a statue. Both animals stared at the fern patch. The dog barked once, sharp, and looked right at the leaves. Theo pushed the ferns apart. Down in the roots, folded tight, sat a green bill of money. He picked it up. It was more than he had ever held. "Whose is this?" he asked. The cat blinked. The dog thumped its tail. Nobody came to claim it. Theo held the branch in one hand and the money in the other. Money could not slide across ice. But money could buy something that did. It could buy real skates. He knew a place. He had pressed his nose to its window many times. The store had a big sign with a skate and a stick painted on it. Behind the glass sat rows of skates and gloves and helmets. Theo walked there fast. The cat and the dog trotted behind him the whole way. When he reached the door, he stopped. The skates in the window shone under the lights. His heart pounded. He pushed the door open and marched to the counter. He could barely see over the top. He reached up and set the money down flat. "I need skates," Theo said. "I'm going to play for the Senators." A person leaned over the counter and looked at the bill. Then they looked at the small boy in the red cap. They counted the money slowly, twice. "This is enough," they said, "but only for one thing. Skates or pads. Not both." Theo's mouth fell open. He had thought money solved everything. Now he had a branch for a stick and just enough for skates. But skates alone would not keep him safe on the ice. And the store would not let a four-year-old rent time at the rink without a grown-up. He held the money tight. He had solved one problem and found a bigger one.