Patrick arrived at the frosty arena, pulling his goalie bag, thinking about the night before. He didn't notice the sound of the wheels on his bag bumping over the concrete floor cracks. Click, click! Click, click!

THUD! He bumped into Liam squatting against the blue concrete wall. "Heh, what's up?" he said to his best friend and opponent in net. "My party wasn't that boring," he teased, giving Liam a nudge with his foot.

Last night, Patrick had celebrated his birthday with friends at the Senators and Red Wings hockey game. What a thrill it had been to see his hockey hero Gordie Howe drop the puck, who also celebrated his birthday on the last day of March.

Liam kept his eyes on the floor. "No you're party was a blast. But I'm real nervous about today's game."

Patrick frowned. "What? I'm the one who gets all whacked and jumpy." He gave Liam a friendly punch in the arm. "Come on nothing ever bothers you." Patrick grabbed his friend's hand and pulled him up. "See you at the other end."

They were playing against each other - the Flames against the Bullets - Patrick against Liam.

Patrick tugged his bag through the dressing room door. "Hey, Jason, are you ever late?" he asked, chuckling.

Jason, the Flames back up goalie sat on the bench playing a video game. "Nope," he said, shaking his mop of curls. "You know me, don't like getting into trouble, so I'm always here early."

Patrick dropped his bag next to Jason's. "Be back in a sec. Gotta make a phone call."

He pulled open the door and bumped into Fred. "Ready for the big game?"

"Yep," Fred mumbled in his quiet way. He was the shyest and quietest guy on the team, but the best defenseman.

After calling his mom to let her know he had arrived safe and sound, Patrick walked up to Liam standing by the janitor's room. "You were joking about being nervous, right?" Patrick asked.

"Yeah. You know me, the teaser." Liam reached out, wriggling his fingers as if to tickle his friend.

BAM! Jason and Fred whizzed around the corner, bumping into Patrick. "Heh, watch it!"

"Oops! Sorry," the boys said, panting and laughing.

As they disappeared into the dressing room, Patrick heard Fred say, "That was a great joke, Jason."

Patrick frowned. "I wonder what those two were up to?"

Liam shrugged his shoulders. "We better get ready," he said. "See you on the ice."

Patrick hurried into the dressing room. Coach Rick stood on the bench calling out the starting line-up. "Patrick, you start in net."

"No fair," Jason grumbled. "I wanted to start."

Ignoring his comment, Patrick reached toward the hockey bag at his feet. "My goalie bag!" he shrieked. "It's gone!"

Jason yanked the bag away, pointing to his name printed on it. "This is mine."

Patrick glared at him and gazed around the room as the rest of the team dressed. Their voices were high and loud. He didn't see his bag anywhere.

Jason eagerly piped up, "That means I get to play in net."

No way was Jason going to be in net, Patrick thought. He had to find his goalie bag.

Patrick thought of Jason and Fred running into him, and about Liam pretending to feel nervous. Something strange was going on. He grinned as he figured it out and came up with a plan. He had one thing to do before telling Liam.

A few minutes later, he rushed into the Bullets' dressing room. "Liam, someone stole my goalie bag!"

"What?" Liam looked surprised. "Who would do that?"

"Jason and Fred, I think," Patrick said, chewing his thumbnail.

"I suppose," said Liam. "Maybe they were on their way back from hiding it when they ran into us." He pulled on his black and red Bullets sweater. "Mmm, I guess Jason will play in net."

"That's exactly what he said." Patrick made his eyebrows and eyes droop. He hoped he looked like a sad puppy dog. "You've got to help me, Liam."

"Um, okay," he said. "I wonder where they'd hide your bag?" Liam looked up to the ceiling as if there were ideas floating up there. "I have an idea," he said. "C'mon, let's go."

"Where?" Patrick asked, following Liam down the hall.

They stopped at the janitor's door and Liam pushed it open. "Voila!" His arm made a sweeping motion into the janitor's room.

Patrick poked his head in, then backed out and shrugged his shoulders. "There's only the janitor's stuff in there."

Liam pushed past him and Patrick watched as he scanned the tiny cubbyhole.

"I don't understand." Liam looked puzzled and scratched the side of his head. "It's supposed to be here."

"What do you mean supposed to?" Then Patrick's eyes widened. "You stole my bag when I went to call Mom! Jason and Fred must have left the room already." He shoved at Liam's shoulder. "Some friend you are."

Liam's mouth fell open, and he lowered his eyes to the floor. "Okay, okay, I took it. But I hid it in here." He looked into the janitor's space. "Where is it now?"

Patrick crossed his arms and squinted. "How am I supposed to know?"

"I don't know. Maybe Jason and Fred found it and took it?" Liam suggested. His voice quivered. "It was only supposed to be a joke."

Coach Rick yelled from down the hall. "Patrick, we're on the ice in five minutes."

"What are you going to do?" Liam whispered to Patrick.

"You'll see." Patrick smirked and glared at his best friend, hoping to make him feel guilty.

Five minutes later, Patrick's team filed down the hall. The Bullets stood by the boards watching the zamboni clean the ice.

The Flames came out with Patrick tagging behind instead of his usual first. He imagined Liam's frown disappearing and his mouth dropping open behind his mask when he saw Patrick dressed to play.

The Flames stopped, and Patrick moved to the front. Liam looked toward him. "Okay, guys," Patrick said. "On three. One, two, three."

And all together they yelled, "April Fools!"

Liam pulled off his goalie mask and looked like he had walked in on a surprise party. He swatted himself on the forehead and laughed. "Oh, man! You got me, good."

"You're April Fools joke backfired." Patrick slapped his friend on the back. "I fooled you in the end, buddy."

"How did you know?" Liam asked.

"When my bag disappeared I knew Jason and Fred hadn't taken it. Jason's too scared of getting into trouble. And Fred's too shy."

Liam nodded. "True."

"And, I remembered seeing you at the janitor's door." Patrick put his arm around Liam's shoulders. "So, I checked the janitor's room and when I saw my bag there, I got this idea to fool you."

Patrick yelled over the sound of both teams slapping their sticks on the rubber mats. "So, I took my bag back to my dressing room, and told my team what you did, and my plan to trick you."

Patrick grinned at Liam. "Then I came to tell you my bag had been stolen."

Now, both teams cheered and hollered hopping on their skates.

The zamboni drove off the ice as a referee opened the gate, and the boys pushed onto the ice eager to play the big match - the Flames against the Bullets - Patrick against Liam.

The End

Marianne Nielsen gets many of her writing ideas from her sons, age 11 and 8. She loves to write poetry, short stories and books for children in the hope of making a difference in the life of a child. Pieces of her work have been published and accepted by Three Leaping Frogs, Kid Magazine Writers, Wee Ones Magazine, Fandangle Magazine, Dragonfly Spirit and Story Station.

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