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You are reading from:
NIGHTMARE IN NAGANO
(BOOK 9)
by Roy MacGregor
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"TOASTED BUNS!"
Travis Lindsay could only shake his head in wonder. The Screech Owls had
been in Nagano, Japan, less than an hour - and already Nish was running
out of control.
"WE GOT TOASTED BUNS!"
The Owls had just checked in to the special "Junior Olympics" Olympic
Village where they would be staying for the next two weeks. They'd been
issued door keys and assigned to a half dozen different "apartments" in
the large complex that would be home to all the teams competing in this
special, once-in-a-lifetime "Junior Olympics." Travis was in with his
right winger Dmitri Yakushev, Lars Johanssen, Andy Higgins, fussy Fahd
Noorizadeh - and, of course, his so-called, perhaps-soon-to-be-former
best friend Wayne Nishikawa.
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"COME AND GET YOUR BUNS TOASTED!"
Rarely had Travis seen Nish so wound up. Travis and the other players had
been carefully hanging up their clothes and putting away their sweaters
and underclothing in each of the three bedrooms and Nish, as he always
did, had simply stepped into the room he'd be sharing with Travis,
unzipped his luggage bag, turned it upside down and let shirts and
sweatshirts and pants tumble down into a heap beside his bed -and then
he'd gone "exploring."
It took him less than a minute to find out that Japan was the land of
the heated toilet seat.
"Fan-tas-tic!" Nish had shouted out in triumph. "At least one country
still believes in the electric chair!"
The rooms were cool. The elevator and the stairs were all actually
outside, the wind and even blowing snow powder dancing around the
hallways as the Owls had made their way to their little apartments. The
apartments themselves were heated, but still cool compared to what the
Owls had been used to back in North America. Each bathroom had a
separate heater, and the toilet seat itself was wired for heating, with
a small red dial on the side that Nish, naturally, had instantly cranked
up as high as it would go.
"THIS IS BETTER THAN WEDGIES!" Nish had screamed before heading out into
the hall to crank up all the other toilet seats before anyone else
discovered this little gem of mischief.
Travis just shook his head.
He still had unpacking to do. And after eighteen hours of flying and six
hours sitting in a bus as it climbed up from Tokyo into the snow-capped
mountains that surrounded Nagano, he was exhausted. His own bed back in
Tamarack couldn't have looked more inviting than this tiny bed with the
crisp sheets already folded back, waiting for him.
Travis was so tired that not even the screaming and shouting from down
the hall was going to stop him from slipping in between those covers for
a quick nap.
"YOU'RE GONNA DIE FOR THIS, NISH!"
That was Sarah Cuthbertson's voice. If anybody could get revenge on
Nish, it would be Sarah.
The Screech Owls had come to Nagano through a remarkable series of
coincidences. Several years earlier, their small town of Tamarack had
"twinned" with Nagano, which considered itself small by Japanese
measure, even though there were close to a hundred times as many people
in Nagano as in Tamarack. But "twinning" had been popular at the time,
and centers throughout Japan had been approaching North American towns
and cities and setting up exchanges. Nagano and Tamarack were both
tourist centers. Both had real winters. Both had ski hills within easy
reach. Both were surrounded by bush, but Nagano's bush became mountains,
whereas Tamarack's bush just became more bush.
There had been previous exchanges between the two towns. The Tamarack
Rotary Club had gone to Nagano a few years back, and a Nagano high school
band had come to Tamarack and put on a wonderful concert at the town
hall, but in the past few years - as Nagano had prepared to host the
Olympics - there had been no contact.
Now, with the Winter Games over, the town of Nagano had sent out the
most surprising invitation: Would there be a hockey team in Tamarack
that would like to come over and play in Big Hat?
Big Hat, of course, was the main arena at the Olympic Games. It was here
where Dominik Hasek of the Czech Republic team had stopped five straight
players from Team Canada - Theoren Fleury, Raymond Bourque, Eric
Lindros, Joe Nieuwendyk, Brendan Shanahan - in that amazing shootout
that had eliminated Canada. And it was here where the brilliant Hasek
had then shut out the mighty Russians. In a single season Hasek had won
the Olympic gold medal. Four months after, he was named, for the second
straight year, the most valuable player in the National Hockey League.
Part of the reason that this moment in Nagano would live on forever was
that the city of Nagano had decided to turn Big Hat into a huge
gymnasium. It would never again serve as a hockey rink.
There would, however, be one last gasp. Shoichi "Sho" Tomita, the head
of Japanese hockey, had talked the city of Nagano in putting on one
final tournament at Big Hat. He had even approached, and received
approval from, the International Olympic Committee to use the Olympic
symbols and call this once-in-a-lifetime tournament "The Junior
Olympics." It would feature tomorrow's stars, the future hopes of
Japanese players who had just played hockey in their first Olympics
ever. The best teams in Japan were invited. A team was invited from Lake
Placid, New York, which had hosted the Olympic Games several years
earlier, and an invitation had gone out, as well, to the Canadian town
of Tamarack.
Both Lake Placid and Tamarack readily agreed. Not everyone was able to
go, of course. Jeremy, the Owls' No. 1 goaltender, had a family vacation
booked to DisneyWorld and wouldn't be able to make it, but Jenny
Staples, the backup, was more than up to the challenge. And for once,
the fundraising was not left up entirely to the Owls and their families.
The Rotary Club was pitching in with a new wheelchair and enough money
to cover the cost of Data going along as a special "assistant coach."
The local radio station was putting up some money. The town council
voted $5,000 toward the exchange. Canadian Airlines, as a goodwill
gesture and to promote its own links with Japan, offered free passage
for the players and coaches.
What seemed like a financial impossibility one week, was a certainty the
next: the Screech Owls were off to Nagano!
No one, of course, took it as seriously as Nish. He called the trip his
"Homecoming" - ignoring the fact that his great grandfather, Yasuo
Nishikawa, had left Japan for Canada before the turn of the century.
Nish, who had once proudly claimed he didn't know a single word of
Japanese and didn't care, was suddenly the self-proclaimed "expert" on
the Land of the Heated Toilet Seat.
He had been insufferable since the plane had taken off - and not just
because he twice tried to "stink out" the section where the Owls were
trying to catch some sleep. While everyone else seemed to be having
trouble dealing with the "jet lag" - the dizzying effect of convincing
your body that it hadn't missed a night of sleep and crossed over the
International Date Line into a brand-new day - Nish seemed to be running
ahead of everyone else, as if he had somehow picked up the energy they
had lost.
He acted like he knew everything. He'd called his grandfather up to get
some Japanese sayings, and was shouting "Moshi! Moshi!" to everyone he
bumped into.
"It means 'Hello,'" he explained to Travis like Travis was some infant
who had never heard the spoken word before.
"'Arigato' means 'Thank you.'"
"Thank you," said Travis with some sarcasm.
"Arigato," said Nish, missing entirely Travis' point.
He told everybody to be careful with their shoes. "You can't walk into a
house or restaurant with your shoes on," he said. "You have to have
slippers."
Nish turned out to be right, which rather impressed some of the other
Owls. As they came to their rooms in the residence, they found small
blue slippers waiting at the door entrances, one for each of the Screech
Owls that were checking in. The slippers slid on easily, and almost
instantly the Owls had taken to "skating" about the small apartments,
the new slippers sliding effortlessly on the new, highly-polished
floors.
That first evening, after Travis had had his little nap and Nish had
practically electrocuted the entire building, the Owls gathered with the
rest of the teams in the Junior Olympic tent that had been spread
between the buildings and which would be their gathering place for meals
and relaxation for the remainder of their stay. Tonight was to be the
opening banquet, with the Mayor of Nagano and other area dignitaries
welcoming the teams to the first-ever, and probably only-ever, Junior
Olympic Hockey Tournament.
Muck Munro, the Owls coach, had laid down the law. Dark slacks, no
jeans. White shirt and tie. Team jacket. "You're not just here
representing your town," he told them. "You're here representing your
country."
That seemed to upset Nish's plans. He had told Fahd that he was headed
out to find a store where he could buy a package of adult diapers. He
told Fahd - and Fahd, of course, had believed him - that he was going to
go to the banquet as a Sumo wrestler, his big stomach hanging out over
the diaper, and he planned to spend the evening "belly bumping" the
players on the other team.
"I think he needs a straitjacket, not a diaper," said Sarah.
"You should have been sitting next to him on the plane," said Fahd. "He
needs a diaper, all right."
Nish was, of course, kidding. But he went out and came back about an
hour later even more the Japanese expert than he'd left, if that was
possible.
"Japan," he announced, "is the most civilized country on earth. If you
can't find it in a vending machine, it doesn't exist."
To prove his point, he began laying out his vending machine loot on the
bed, pulling treasures from his jacket pocket as if they were stolen
jewels and the rest of the Owls were black market purchasers gathered in
some back alley.
"Cigarettes," he announced, dropping two packages down on the bed.
"You're not old enough to buy smokes!" Fahd charged.
Nish shrugged a world-weary shrug and yanked something from his other
pocket. A can, and a small bottle.
"Beer," he announced. "And whiskey."
"Where'd you get this?" Fahd almost screeched.
"Vending machines. Anybody can use them. You just put your yen in and
push any button you want."
"You don't even smoke!" said Sarah, disgusted.
"And you certainly don't drink!" said Fahd, still alarmed.
"You just watch what the ol' Nisher drinks," Nish announced, reaching
into an inside pocket of his jacket.
He pulled out a thin, high blue can. On the side was one word in large
white letters:
SWEAT
Nish held out his can of "Sweat," smacked his lips, yanked the pull tab
off and hoisted the drink high, guzzling until he'd half finished the
can.
He pulled the drink away, burped loudly, and held it out, his eyes taken
on their most kindly look.
"A slug of Sweat, anyone?"
"I think I'm gonna hurl!" screeched Fahd.
Nish tossed the blue can to Travis, who caught the skinny can before it
spilled onto the floor. He held it up to his nose and sniffed quickly:
it didn't smell like sweat. The idea that anyone would produce a drink
that would taste like the inside of a hockey bag was a bit much for
Travis to imagine, and he sniffed again. It smelled almost sweet. He
glanced at the writing on the side. Most was in Japanese, but there was
also some English: "Pocari Sweat is a health oriented drink... highly
recommended as a beverage for such activities as sports, physical labor,
after a hot bath, and even as an eye-opener in the morning."
He took a taste: mineral water. Nice. Perhaps it was just a misspelling:
"Sweat" instead of the intended "Sweet."
"Nice," said Travis.
"What do you say?" Nish announced grandly. "Do the Screech Owls have a
new team drink?"
"Sounds good to me," Travis said, passing the can of Sweat on so others
could try a sip of the sweet, cool liquid.
Nish was in his glory. They loved his can of "Sweat". They were hanging
on his every word. Phony or not, he had established himself as the
Screech Owls' living expert on Japan.
"Muck says we gotta look nice," Nish announced. "But we gotta act right,
too. You meet people here, you don't shake their hands, okay - you bow."
To demonstrate, he stood back, set his heels together, and bowed deep to
Sarah, who giggled and bowed back.
"No handshakes," Nish barked. "Bow. You got it - bow."
"What about high fives?" Wilson asked. "What to we do when we score?"
"What you always do," Nish said with a wicked grin. "Shout 'Way to go,
Nish!'"
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