Tristan Volume 1

Well, as the result of implementing some Microsoft Word codes, I have now restored this book from its book margination/ ebook margination format disaster. Why don't you check that for me?

--Asa

By Asa Montreaux, pen name Andrew James  

My parents split up and I thought it was the perfect opportunity to escape the only things I’d ever known. I told them that their fighting was causing me too much pain and I was leaving to live in Canada. My father assured me that I didn’t need to go and do things all on my own. He was going to come with me to Canada. Maybe I should have left on my own. But I could never say no to the man. You see I was born in Canada, and this is why I have always been better than everyone else. Canadians are better looking, more intelligent, and talented at hockey than any other group of people. Whenever I was given a hard time in school, or in the alleyways, nothing ever affected me. I had already won. I was Canadian, after all. I rose above every conflict because after all I was going back to Canada soon. When was I going back to Canada? Next year. Next year when? Next year, son. My experience of being a child clashes with those pastoral images of the thing. I remember feeling frustrated all the time. If I could just have been given authority over my own life but my only access to power in this world was through my parent’s wallets. Sometimes, when you’re growing up, you feel so frustrated that when something bad happens, it makes you happy. When my dog died I cried for a couple hours but eventually my dog’s death became less about the death of a companion and more about an event in my life. My dog’s death could be one of those moments when things change. I could be the hero in my story and I could be inspired by my dog’s death to be the bestest little twelve year old in the world. I think this divorce thing is the same thing. We like disaster, we love explosions. I took advantage of the explosion to get what I’ve always wanted. And I’ve always wanted to go back. The funny thing about getting what you’ve always wanted is that it always seemed so far away that you’ve been living for other things. I was leaving my whole life, which I had worked so hard at. It was so sad because that life was so valuable, and there was so much more work to do, and I would never see it through to the end. Being a normal person is just as rewarding as being a rock star if you’re good at. We left Vancouver when I was three, but it was already too late for me. I paraded around my uncle’s apartment wearing his hockey gear, however loosely, and I was already scoring the game winner in game seven. I always wanted to be a big time hockey player. Which is why it sucks that I had spent my life in Houston, Texas. But we had some good teams there. However I had just run out of teams to play for, and I needed to leave to play better hockey. I had been planning something less explosive, like playing for the Dallas selects, or Detroit Compuware. But this was just one of those events in life which I really needed to mean something bigger than Detroit Compuware. I had visited Vancouver several times growing up. Cities are always so much more attractive when you don’t live there. A city will give you a free pass if you are just there to visit. You pay a lot of money when you’re visiting the city. But if you’re not paying a lot of money, then the city is nearly as hostile towards you as any new immigrant. You see the seedy streets, and you ride on public transportation with some of the sketchy characters. Backpackers in Europe probably are more struck by the harshness of life than they are by the temples and jewels of antiquity. Which is not to say I was wholly taken with Vancouver. I was taken aback by skid row, and I knew what that meant about the people who made up this city. I knew that some people tried to help the people on skid row, but I also knew that the city was quietly making them extinct, shrinking their areas with high rise buildings and coffee shops, and raising the price of living and transportation. As attractive as Vancouver is, as comforting as it was to know that I would be reunited with my cousins, to be returning from an extended period away, I wasn’t coming for the city or any of its people. I was coming for its hockey. We chose to live within five minutes drive of twelve sheets of ice. There aren’t twelve sheets of ice in all of Houston. Just driving to the rink everyday was a reminder that I would forever be at a disadvantage. Ice time was the most precious commodity for a hockey player. The team I wanted to play for was the Northwest Giants. It was a major midget team comprised of the best players from Burnaby, North Vancouver, West Vancouver, New Westminster, Squamish, and Whistler. That was a lot of hockey players to draw from, and a lot of good ones. Burnaby and North Vancouver were home to the winter clubs. Those winter club teams made me shake my head at how good they were. It seemed as illustrious to play for those teams as to play in the NHL. I revered this team, and it was really very silly to be trying to play for the North West Giants. They were the number one nationally ranked team the previous season. How was a kid from Texas going to squeeze his way in there? I suppose if I didn’t make that team then there were other teams I could have played for. But I was very very set on having things one way. I didn’t know how to compromise. If I had known how to do things like that then I probably would have graduated a year early, like I was supposed to, and gone off to a U.S. school, forgetting about any call to Canada. As it was I was going to be loitering around for my Senior year. I decided to pretend that I needed physics and chemistry and so I took them, all in all I still had three spare blocks left. People stick around for Senior Year so they can go to Prom, but I had left all the people I had grown up with, and I don’t want to talk about it.  My father and I rented a four bedroom house. We were perfectly aware that we didn’t need four bedrooms, but we weren’t willing to live in a regressed way. We had always lived in houses; we weren’t going to live in an apartment now. The exterior was dark blue, and stood well above the street with an attic, the third floor, whatever it is. With so much space, this way it seemed like maybe my mother and my brother were still there with us, though they had just gone to do some shopping. Did I mention I have a brother. Well, I do, a younger brother. I’m mentioning him now. There was still two months before tryouts and two and a half months before school started and I was determined to make up for lost time. There wasn’t enough ice in Texas. There were two stick and pucks everyday at eight rinks, and I went to all of them. Something about practicing on my own, made it even more intense, and I think it was easier to get better that way. There was no time playing around. When I came home I would shoot pucks until my hands started to throb. Then I’d shoot a hundred more, then that would be enough. After, I would go back inside, upstairs, and Skype with Agnes, the girl I was supposed to go to prom with, for three or four hours. She asked me a lot of questions. My Dad worked a lot. He seemed to be on an adventure too. Every once and awhile we would watch a movie together on the flat screen. ‘That wasa good movie’, he’d say. ‘Yea, pretty good’, I’d say. I really liked the routine. It made me feel like I was together. One thing I really liked was cooking for myself. My Dad didn’t care much for it. Mothers always want to tell their sons that their deficient. They are obviously reliant on their mothers for survival, and if they do cook for themselves on occasion or even generally, they obviously would be eating better if their mother was cooking for them. At least, that was the way my mother was. I felt healthier than ever before though. When I looked at myself in the mirror everything in my face seemed clearer. I think if my step mother were here, the first thing she would ask if she were to suddenly appear would be, did you miss me? And there’s really only one answer to this, and she would have already made up her mind anyways that I was dying without her. But I didn’t miss her in the least. My mother, who passed away, well I miss her a lot. And I can’t think of anyone ever replacing her, or really even being like her. It was nice the way my Dad recognized I was together. It was nice to be left alone. I seemed to have so much enthusiasm, like I was five years old again. I was reading a book every week, that seemed like a good thing. like harry potter, all over again. I was an outsider entering into this world, and I couldn’t help but sense impending peril everywhere. Something had changed in me since I had left my home. I didn’t trust people so much anymore. The people I had known all my life took on a villainous quality that I had never noticed before. The people I met in this world were crawling over one another to reach success. I suddenly believed every monster story I had ever heard. The things in fairy tales existed and they were right there in our lives. I didn’t want to be friendly; I was there to become successful. This was about divorce, but it was about me. My life was my responsibility. I kept thinking about how I was starting school. And the best scenario would be that it’s as if I’m not there. I was practicing how to look successful in the mirror. It was the same thing as looking like you didn’t feel things. You had to look a little angry, like you were trying to scare people. I’m not trying to scare anyone, of course. I wouldn’t have been ok with that before but it felt appropriate now, for one reason or another. This was a big adventure for us, and a lot of things, from now until when we were to leave, could go wrong. But if you could see all of that at once then you could also see that it was possible to stay out of any troubles. 

*

 Before I was anywhere near ready school started. I walked myself up to it from our house and before I went inside I knew I wouldn’t like it. I walked into the building and I wasn’t sure if I was in Burnaby, British Columbia or if I was in South Korea. I felt like I should be wearing one of those masks people wear on the streets of Tokyo, if only so the smell of noodles wasn’t so strong. Really, though. I went to my first class, which was shop. The teacher sounded like a veteran of Vietnam, cursing twice during the class and excusing himself glibly. The first project was to build a cabinet, but I figured I could use the first class to save my energy, so I pretended to spend a lot of time working on a pencil design. My next three blocks were spare, and I decided to go home and sleep. I was certainly going to take this adjustment thing slowly. My last class was Calculus and I came back for it. I sort of liked the teacher. The math was interesting. I didn’t mind it. Right after class I left school and went home again, successfully having no interactions or confrontations on my first day. The second day was more interesting. My first two classes were Chemistry and Physics. To my horror, I was forced to get to group work, and I got to know quite well one of the fellows in my physics class. I went home for lunch, but I didn’t really feel like eating anything. When it was time to go back to school, I lugged my hockey bag with me. It was the first day of Burnaby North Hockey Academy. A bus pulled into the horseshoe where parents dropped their kids off, and all of the kids were putting their bags in the bus. Some of them were very lively and some of them were very quiet, new to the program as well and observing how everything worked. All the same it was easily the most obnoxious bus ride I’ve ever taken. Several times the driver pulled over and said he was going to turn around if we weren’t quiet. Every other day Hockey Academy kids left school at lunch for an hour and forty-five minutes of ice time. It was quite the contrast from my life in Houston. If only I had ice time as readily available as we have it here, as they have always had it here. When we got to the rink, there were three rooms. One was for the girls. Yes, there were girls in the hockey academy, and resultantly there was a significant amount of drama in the hockey academy. They were all very nice and sweet, except for when we tired from skating hard and they were fighting amongst themselves. The drama was also present in the dressing rooms set up for the guys. I only saw a handful of players go into the first dressing room, while the majority of players crowded into the second dressing room. It was my first day, so I was feeling a little hesitant to make waves and went to the second dressing room, and I was crowded in on one side of the dressing room, while five or six guys took up the majority of the dressing room. One of them was Paul Spelling, the young phenom. He was remarkably skinny, and not particularly tall either. The only things that might have given him away, had I not seen him in magazines and the like, is the intensity in his expression. The first fifteen minutes of the ice time where ours to work on whatever we wanted. Spelling and a few other players were playing a game of crossbar, trying to hit it as many times in a row as possible. Spelling had the most. He was very good at it. He had an amazing release. When the drills started, I saw for the first time how effortless a skater he was. I had one of those bad skates. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and as if there was lead in my veins. It seems that when I get too worked up, I get those feelings. By the end of the session, I was hating myself for making a bad first impression. But having had that experience a few times already, I wasn’t surprised when, in the dressing room, it was if I was every bit as undifferentiated as before the ice time. There were too many damned teenagers in that room, and they really were quite loud and obnoxious. I’ve always equated not standing out with sucking, and as I sat there I felt unsure of myself, as who knew how good the players in Canada were. I was coming to realize that I had too much to deal with, and I was feeling tense and I was powering through exhaustion. At this point I would have tried to power through that, thinking that I could work myself into better shape, but as time would go by I would realize that human beings have limitations. I felt largely excused from doing homework on only the first day of school, and that helped. My father didn’t get off work until six, and so I was going to have to wait at the rink until he could pick me up. 8 rinks is equipped with quite lovely lounging areas, and so it wasn’t so difficult to lounge there for three hours. They had a heavenly ninety-inch tv, and I saturated myself in their NHL package. I flipped back and forth between five and six games at once. The lockout had only occurred a few years back, and the game since then largely consisted of power plays. That was the only thing that seemed to matter anymore, the power play. I sipped my powerade. When I used to go to tournaments, I would drink three or four of those a day. Looking back, my electrolytes were probably fine without them, but goodness did I believe that powerade helped. It was marvellously advertised. Rather than make me feel better, it seemed to make me want to sleep even more. My father arrived. He said hello the way he would and then he asked me how my day was. I told him a little about the hockey academy, and my classes, not saying but suggesting that it had been a much better day than it actually had been. He sort of nodded and continued listening to sports radio. There really wasn’t anything else to talk about. My step mother always insisted on talking about something, but never about anything important. I never felt like her child, but like a pawn which she was trying to whip into shape, as a defeated and very meek protégée, that took a lot of abuse and liked it. They should be so lucky to get off with just that in this tough, tough real world, she might say. I liked that about my dad, that we could drive together, and we could just be quiet together. I hung up my equipment to dry. As we ate dinner we watched the Canucks game. My father got very into games, his way of watching hockey was funny. He was in another world, another world of masculine virility and manly codes and honour and war. I suddenly realized that we were running away from something. Like any child that had ever read a fairy-tale or any teenager that ever read a comic book, we were getting our kicks out of a world of wish fulfillment. Whatever we were running from, it would catch up with us. Life could be ignored only for so long until it started to spin around inside you. I was watching the game, and I had that feeling again, like there was lead in my veins, and I knew what it was now, it was revulsion. 

*

 I really don’t know why, but I went to school the next day. I had no intention of listening to anything my teachers had to say. In Calculus, anyone could have mistaken the doodling I was doing for note taking. I went home and slept through second block, lunch, and third block, and then I came back for physics. I walked in when the class was full up so I didn’t have to sit next to that kid who had talked to me two days earlier. He seemed alright, it was nothing personal. Five minutes into class I started thinking about tryouts. They were coming up soon. They were this weekend, in fact. I have never considered it a possibility that I wouldn’t make the team, but what if that feeling came back like it did at hockey academy? I used to think that worrying wasn’t thinking, and that worrying was somehow unhealthy. But I realized the thing to do is just to worry your heart out, and you find within yourself the answers that calm you down. Pretty soon you’re thinking clear thoughts. I trust myself a lot more now, and I can act based on my thoughts and know that I’m right. I thought like this for the entire class, and I was quite pleased with myself for successfully being there while not being there. I began to pack up my things. I would go home and make a pizza, and watch the O.C. That kid I thought I had avoided came over and said hello, his bag in his hand. Dammit, I thought, I’m going to have to walk out with him. I smiled meekly at him, and I told him a little bit more about my life back in the states as we walked out of class. In the hallway, we looked at each other, and I could see that his eyes were quite bright. He had assumed that I hadn’t sat next to him because I was shy. He was opening doors for me, thinking that was what I wanted. ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Do you want to come to the cafeteria with me. I’ll get you something.’ ‘Okay.’ His buddies name was Kenneth, and I nodded at him, but that wasn’t enough, he wanted to shake hands. He found it infinitely pleasing that I was from Texas and took to calling me that right away, the first time I heard that eponymous nick name. They were the best of friends. I sort of loathed being there. I thought they had just bumped into each other by accident, but now I realized that they probably met in the cafeteria after class like every day. ‘Your in the hockey academy, right?’ ‘Yea,’ ‘Oh yea. Have you watched Paul Spelling play?’ ‘Yea.’ ‘Is he really that good?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘You have physics with Laurel?’ Oh. So that was his name. That was nice to know. ‘Yea we just had it then.’ ‘O.K.’ It wasn’t a very nice cafeteria. Despite the fact they met there often, they didn’t stay there long. ‘Were going to take off now,’ said Laurel. Where you headed? ‘Home I guess.’ ‘Where do you live? ‘Napier.’ ‘Oh really? I’m just up at Kitchener. Want to walk with us?’ ‘Nah, I have to pick up a few books before I forget about it.’ ‘O.K., later bud.' Well, that was alright. I walked towards the other building, towards my locker. I didn’t have to grab any books because I didn’t have any to grab, and I didn’t have a backpack to put them in. I had left a cliff bar in there. That was worth grabbing. 

*

 Tryouts came around finally, and I was very excited. From what I had gathered speaking to people around the team, the team was already picked. That was hardly surprising. At most there were one or two spots that were ‘available’, and perhaps a couple more if certain players played well below expectation, and some kid from nowhere played exceptionally well, like me. Whatever my numerical chances, I was entirely convinced of my inherit greatness, ready to unravel this weekend (I’m being mildly facetious). The Burnaby winter club was not a very nice rink. It was kept going, it was built, by the parents or the alumni who cared about the place, a club in every sense of the word. I showed up a little late I suppose, and I was shocked to see that the dressing room, the tiniest one I had ever seen, was full with every player except me, and they were all fully dressed, contemplating the game. For a moment I felt wholly unprepared and unconfident, but I couldn’t hold that feeling as I saw that all of these kids looked very scared and tense. Rather than wanting to be there and be already dressed, I preferred never to go in that dressing room. I found a chair and dressed in the hallway. As I was putting on my jockstrap one of the mother’s walked by, but I don’t think she saw anything, and she certainly didn’t know who I was. I liked this feeling of separation. It was far smarter to be out here, in the quiet, then in there with a bunch of tense strangers. When we got out there you could tell who the returning players were because they were wearing their gear from last year. On the first shift I skated the puck out of zone and went one on one with one of the defencemen. I made a couple of moves, and I got by him, had a decent shot on net, didn’t score that time. The play went like that, it was very sloppy and it was hard to get things going out there. Those same tense kids in the dressing room were the same tense kids on the ice now. But by the second period, the immense talent was easily evident. Things became easier. The best players started to stand out, and five goals were scored before the third period. Things hadn’t clicked for me yet, but they did then. I made some agile moves and some good passes that would have been sure goals with a better player. Finally in the last five minutes, I scored two goals. I was pleased with myself because it felt like just the beginning of something wondrous. Normally when there isn’t more than a three hours break between games, I’ll just leave my bottom equipment on. I did just that, and I resisted watching the second game, instead I found a quiet place in the other building of the club, in the lounge area, and I read my favourite book, the Great Gatsby. Gatsby, old sport. I think I would look a lot like Gatsby. I once called my stepmother old sport. It felt right for some reason. I recall she was less than fond of the term, though. It was the best feeling to be on the ice again, and I couldn’t have cared less whether I was playing for all the right scouts or for a full house. That’s the place to be when you’re an athlete, if you’re any good, where it’s as if you were still just a little kid, playing for no other end. It gets tough to maintain that in a sport as rough as this one, though it is good to try. The play in this game seemed to have continued where the last game had left off. The pace was a little frantic, but that’s where I want to thrive. I’m the guy that can slow things down when I get the puck. If I’m not scoring all the goals, then I’m at least winning the puck possession. As it was, the game was going exceedingly well. I scored another two goals. I was feeling pretty confident about my chances of making this team. Our team won this game handily, and this was the way it seemed it was going to be. Our team was stacked, probably because no one had considered that I was on this team. Right after us, Spelling was on the ice. His team was less stacked than ours, but he made up for it all on his own. He scored six goals in that game. I was full of awe about him as a player. If you wanted to know how good you were, you compared yourself against Spelling. So where did I stand? The following day was the last day of games, and the first round of cuts. I had two more games to show myself. At this point, the coaches knew who was getting those few open spots. Now I was jockeying for a good position in the lineup. Was I going to be fourth line or first line, if I am going to be so dauntless as to declare that I’ve made the team. My preliminary thoughts were confirmed. At the start of the third game, the assistant coach came onto the bench, and he made line combinations. There were four lines of players, but he only made two lines. The kids that didn’t make it were rather bluntly informed so at that point. Playing with better players, that seemed to help. In that third game I didn’t score any goals, but I had six assists. Following that game, the players in the dressing room were quiet and glassy eyed. Collectively, we knew that it was all over, though the temptation to add up all of the things you had done, reconsidering the plays you had made with an extra sense of heroism, building yourself up so that if the coaches neglected to notice how good you were, then it was through some obvious personal fault peculiar to the whole coaching staff. In the last game, the stands were empty and we weren’t playing for anything. One evaluator had been there for the first period, but he had left to join the coaches, to make final decisions about which players to continue with. I was thankful for this really, I’d done enough and I was tired. I didn’t make any attempts to get to the net, or make any offensive rushes which might have meant I had to get back on the defensive side of things. I stayed on the defensive side of things, rather, and made some very deft passes here and there. It was a very low scoring game, I suppose everyone being tired and complacent by that point. Then, after the game, was the first round of cuts. I really didn’t know why they couldn’t just post them. Although I hated the waiting, it was fun to watch players come out of the office and try and read their faces, I knew hardly anyone so I wasn’t about to ask them. The ones who made it generally were beaming, by which I mean not necessarily smiling, but full of colour or something or other. When I was almost in the office, the next in line, I was a little nervous because I wasn’t sure why the meetings were taking so long. I thought of questions a coach might ask, and I thought about how he would ask them. The kid who went before finished his meeting, and he came through the door pale as an agoraphobic. I caught the door and went in, and sat down opposite the head coach. ‘Name and team.’ ‘Tristan . The red team.’ He turned a few pages, seeming to have previously guessed I was someone else. He already had a very stricken look. Though it wasn’t a brutal face; it was a boyish one, and he wasn’t anyone who had anything to take out on people, he came from money and ease. Now, his face took on a threatening aspect. ‘O.K’, he said. ‘We have a lot of returning players from last year. I’ve got five players at junior A tryouts that are coming back. But good job so far.’ ‘O.k.’ I said. ‘You obviously had a good showing today, and we’ll see you at the skate tomorrow. It’s at 2 30. Do you understand?’ ‘Yes. See you tomorrow.’ ‘O.k.’ he said, and went back to looking at his clipboard. That was my cue to leave, and I did. 

*

 ‘Well, that’s good son. I’m proud of you.’ ‘Thanks, Dad.’ ‘Well. Work hard tomorrow.’ ‘Alright.’ ‘How’s dinner.’ ‘Really good.’ ‘It’s not bad.’ ‘Ahuh.’ ‘How’s Agnes. ‘Good.’ ‘You emailing here.’ ‘Sometimes.’ ‘Why not. ‘I am. Just not as much lately.’ ‘I taped the Penguins game.” ‘O.k.’ Agnes was extremely worried I had forgotten about here, and she was worried I was seeing someone else. Neither was true. I just found it difficult to find things to say anymore. Our lives weren’t connected by locality anymore. I couldn’t see any scenario where I would ever go back to where I had come from. We shared that world, as much as two people barely seventeen year-olds can share any world. The thing about Agnes and I is we had been friends since we were 11, when we had a class together. — I suppose it wasn’t just in my one class, it was also my French class, and my English class, and my History class. That sounds more significant than it really is, as most of my classes were with the same people, because honours was only so many people. But we were always around each other, even if we weren’t talking all the time or even or sitting next to each other. She was so motivated. She wanted to be a doctor, as probably ten million other American kids do, and she wanted an Ivy education. We were studying all the time. I know as much as that I felt compelled unto something new and it wasn't as simple as I wanted to finish school and it wasn't as simple as moving away from home. When I walk late at night, and those noises that so are tiring during the day: the chatter in the hallways; air conditioners; traffic; sirens; then my perceptions open up, I draw forward; the trees against the star-smitten sky, the undulating city lights, the street lights colouring the pavement green; then my mind can stretch way out into the future and I feel like I'm in an infancy; like my life hasn't even begun yet, nor should it have. I just get this feeling like I should create a higher aim in life; something never done before and intricately set out for me. That thing, I am certain, is there. But I have no words for it. I have only the words around me, and I wonder whether I will ever find those proper words. If I could only express what I am feeling in those moments, but I can't retrieve it through memory, if I could recreate it then it might not take words to share it. As much as I wanted to keep the feeling of anonymity and adventure, and steer away from a return to the suffocation of an environment in which everyone knew who you were, people had been seeing me and perhaps talking about me, and my desire to keep to myself only displaying that I had an interesting internal life and drawing on what was inevitable all along anyway--forgive my pomposity. 

*

 In the  entrance meetings he said that he expected us to be good students. He gave the impression that he was keeping an eye on us. He would need to if Universities from the states were calling him. Though every tuesday and thursday, I would lean back in my chair in chem, and there would be Paul Spelling, walking right into class with little worry, five minutes late. The first game of the season was approaching; we were taking a road trip to the interior of the province. The practices were more challenging than my previous teams, like 30 km sprints with the choreographic intensity of a symphony. The previous years team had gone undefeated, though they were then swept in the second round of playoffs. The pressure was on the coach to repeat last years regular season performance, and then better it with a post-season triumph, a regional championship. The talk was that we were even better than last years team, though that was hard to believe. My spot on the team seemed quite set. I would be as high on the depth charts as I could be while still being behind Spelling. It would be tough to get points if he was going to get all the ice time, all the power play time, all the passes. You can imagine that if I had enough will to put together this trip, then I could deal with this adversity. If that meant that in every second of ice I received, I had to be that much better, than the only option was to convince yourself an unflagging full-out effort however insane was the only way to approach the game. The first set of games would be against Prince George. They were a big, rough team and generally one of the better two or three teams in the league. They had knocked out the Giants last year, and they were the defending league champions. All week at school I couldn’t help but to consistently visualize the upcoming games. I felt a keen anxiety about getting pushed around and beaten up. That didn’t prevent imaginings of end-to-end rushes and top shelf goals from the halfboards. We were to gather at the BWC for the bus to drive us up to Prince George on Friday morning. It was our first road trip and a long one, and I suppose if we were going to go then we would go and we would have ‘a bonding experience.’ I had my new Macbook with me. My father for years had been saying that there was nothing special to Apples, though my MacBook Pro convinced me otherwise. It felt very good to wield it. It was almost a necessity to fitting in on this team, as everyone had iPhones and all of those privileges of upper class youth. I sat nearer the front of the bus. Everyone wanted their own row on the coach so they could get comfortable, so everyone was pretty spread out, except for in the back where the returnees from last year and a few of the players were busy i.m.’ing as many girls as possible on their phones. It was smooth going and we stopped halfway through our trip in Kamloops for Lunch. We had Joey’s, as we would have many more times in our adventures in carb-loading and good eating. We would rack up many a dollar and many an appetizer from then to the end of the season. l Being nearer the front this time, I could listen to the Coaches conversations. They talked about getting out to scout players to be affiliates, they talked about past players and teams, they bantered a little. The highways were long and straight and then there were no highways. The roads were winding and vertical and the cliffs steep and the views hard and enveloping, mountains standing solidly and the waters primordial, still, the skies white. It was nearing four o’clock when we passed a sign indicating Prince George ahead. When we got to the hotel it was pleasant, it was four stars, and I headed up to my room once we got our keys and just crashed on the bed. There was so much information coming my way, so many sensations that I had felt and I fell asleep until 6 when we had dinner prepared in the hotel, and then tickets to a WHL game that night. I can’t say I knew who many of the players out there were, but in talking with the guys I got to know who to watch. There was Colis Holman, a sixteen-year-old who had a decent midget season for Prince George last year, and was playing really well tonight. There were some other good players, many of them were from Burnaby or at least the Lower Mainland. The crowd was enthusiastic and a good turn out considering that it was only a town of 70,00 when all counted up…I didn’t at all feel enticed towards playing in this league, though several of the group I was sitting with would play in this league, and I felt okay knowing this. They would have the times of their lives, I don’t doubt it. But for me, schools south of the Border beckoned. Prince George beat Seattle 3 to 2, and Holman had two goals. He was the only real stand-out. Walking back to the hotel through the town, I couldn’t help feeling that it was a romantic little place, street lamps here and there with a soft white glow, a few small groups peopling the tranquil streets, away from the stadium, almost back to the hotel, which admittedly was situated rather unromantically against a major road. Though, once inside, I felt enveloped in a quietness, reading. When I got our wake-up call, it didn’t take long to get dressed and make my hair look semipresentable so I could head down for breakfast. Keane was a little reluctant to wake up, but eventually he got up when I reminded him it would be a bad idea to be late to breakfast. It was a rather relaxed atmosphere at breakfast. We had an evening game, so there was the whole day to prepare. There was a lot of appropriately muffled though still juvenile laughter going around. I loved being on the road when I had a full breakfast of eggs and sausages and toast and a full plate of fruit. I took my time eating so as to digest everything well. I would be nervous later in the day, it was important to get everything now down. Who knew what I would feel like when we were to have dinner at five. Everyone seemed more friendly today, in something of an inquiring mood. Where in Texas did you live? What were the teams like? It was all fine and well, as quiet and reserved as I was. After breakfast I put on my sweater and headed out for a walk. This is the peculiarity of my temperament. There was no one else on the team that would take wandering solitary walks. I thought about the game, I visualized different scenario’s and how I would need to react. I reminded myself of things I needed to do on the ice and the way I play when I play my best. This all might sound a little excessive, and indeed it might be, and I will tell you all about Peter Twist at some point along here. But yes, my mind drifted to wondering whether this game really meant anything at all. Couldn’t I be doing something with my time other than preparing mentally? I might as well have drifted into an evaluation of my life as whole and found a copy of “No Exit” in a bookstore and just skipped the game. No—I started heading home and I’d catch up with Keane and do something silly and inconsequential to escape the pain of being alive. Keane brought his PS3. I doubted he would be allowed to have it if Iain knew, and there was an eeriness to Albert where you figured he knew things he shouldn’t. The whole room smelled like lotion. I jumped on my bed. We played NHL 09 and I beat him twice, though certainly there were many interesting spin moves and Michigan moves that gave him some sort of style points. At dinner we had a rather sumptuous assortment of pastas. I ate well…fine…and I got on board the bus. We only had to wear our track suits to out of town games(aside from the Macs and playoffs). The rest of the time we had to wear suits. If there is one thing about this generation that I cherish it is iPods, and I played my favourite songs to arouse good feelings. Walking off the bus, I tried to look composed and serious and focused, though not psychotic. It was a nice building, not very old. We had a long time to get ready. I put on my running gear, and then I put on my gloves and grabbed by stick and my smart ball, and went to warm up my hands. This was a long time ritual, and I felt like a big deal during these moments. I am a very good stickhandler. We had our team run then. We lapped the rink twice, and then did some standard dynamic warm-up stuff—knee raises, leg kicks, lunges, etc. What I remember most fondly is our games of footie: trying to keep the soccer ball in the air. I wasn’t the best on the team at this, I would have had to have been at least part Italian, but I won sometimes, and the whole team enjoyed it. In this way we were on level with NHL teams, who warmed up in just this way. Eventually we had our gear on, our sticks taped, and the Zamboni was preparing the ice. With all due apology to Coaches, pre-game motivation speeches are to be forgotten, and when I got out on the ice there was a lot of adrenaline pumping, and my hands were a little jumpy, but I was ready for a season of dangerous, fast-paced, worthless, meaningless hockey. I wasn’t expecting to start the game — again, I’m a kid from Texas. I didn’t get on the ice until the second line change, and I have to say that I had a great shift, very energetic and all of that. I found that everyone else was really nervous. There were a couple missed passes, and a few odd-man rushes given up by our team in the first period. Our line only had a few shifts in the offensive zone, most of the play was in the neutral zone. I was trying really hard to be an unselfish player. Although I played really really selfishly when I lived in Texas — which I sometimes got in trouble for, actually which which my teammates used to yell at me about — because I just kept scoring goals. Here I figured players would be more adept at a team game. But I would soon realized that the more often you give the puck to your teammates, the more often they stop giving it back. I finished the game with one assist, but I only had one shot on net, and it was from the half wall. Overall I think I played a smart game. I avoided checks like I had to being the skinniest kid on my team, likely in the league.(I must have had three percent body fat). Well anyways I played smart, the way the coach had drawn it up in practice, and then etc, etc. After the game I wondered at what where I was. It was so hard to make your expectations of a thing into reality. My day-dreams were filled more with thoughts of the rewards that would follow from being a star athlete, than of the actual process of being a star athlete. As I was waiting for face-offs, or just having a sip of water I tried to make the moment feel very momentous. Looking back instead of trying to make it last forever, I should have tried to make it go by as quickly as possible. Try to power through to the reward. People say that you should just enjoy being on the ice, but the game is not the fun part. The game is the part that you can’t wait for it to be over. For the second game, which was at 9:30 the next morning, I felt emotionally drained. There had been so many nerves, so many thoughts going through my head the previous day, there had been so much anticipation of that moment that I was a little spent the following day…it didn’t seem to matter because we won handily, and the stands were much emptier. The only unfortunate thing is that I only had one assist in the second game as well. It wasn’t such a big deal, it was only the first weekend. On the drive back to van city I listened to my iPod, and watched the mountains go by in the window. I was thankful to be doing something with my weekend other than partying, even if I couldn’t say that I was hanging with my best friends; it would be a long, long season and even if hockey is just a game, my life had taken on a much different tone. The next day I made it to school nice and early and I went to the library like I used to and read some of my physics textbook. It wasn’t great morning reading, then again I wasn’t having breakfast and coffee in the library. We’re clearest in the morning, which is probably why people seem to study late at night, in other words pull allnighters, because who would study the textbooks assigned by high schools in their right mind? Well, I’m perhaps over dramatic, and on this occasion I wanted to do a bit of catch-up, or else I would have read something more pleasing. Thank god I was done with my English classes because there was no way I could be adequately assessed in a school like this. It was great preparation if I wanted to study Engineering in China. Nonetheless I felt fairly comfortable by now, more or less going to hockey school and not going to the high school at all. One person was catching my eye from time to time as I moved around the school. I don’t think she knew who I was, but she had probably heard about me. I would see her congregated with a few people, smiling and laughing politely, and there was a little glimmer of recognition in her countenance and we both knew we were there. She was there and I saw her pale looks, her tall slender body. My eyes saw and every time I saw her thereafter, my whole being seemed to soften a little, until eventually everything within sight seemed to soften as well. Beginning the semester I had been much more inclined to read in the library during my copious spare time, though now I was being a little more social. There were a lot of people to meet going around, and I was liking Canada a lot. There are indeed many things to like about Texas, but the political environment or the religious fundamentalism were not reasons to like living there. I was starting to think about Allister a lot and thinking how they were getting along together. It made me uneasy. All the way down there and I could have no influence over the way my step mother treated him. From everything I was hearing things seemed alright, though I felt like they might get worse, and I would start to feel guilty about having left home. But I couldn’t have expected that he would be staying when I made the decision. Now I knew I had to get through this year, working with as much intensity and simultaneous grace as I could manage, and with some divine help we would all make it through it and be in a better position next year. I went home right after school, though I felt like soon there would be many adventures or at least diversions. The Canucks later were playing and I watched the first period, and then i curled up in my room and read articles, and talked on messenger for a bit. i didn’t have Facebook. I thought it was fake or for social climbers or something like that. Now i have it only because it's basically a part of reality now. When i got it i was determined to try and change the Facebook culture, or at least in some way have one that was different and somehow part of a mass culture yet without the mass culture psychology. i like Facebook, even though i still think we use it too often and our time on it should be kept to a minimum. i was expecting Agnes to be online but she wasn’t, and i was feeling a little adverse to calling her. i’d done enough thinking for the day. Tomorrow practice started again, and there would be no time to breath until next monday… 

*

 it was starting to become a little crisp outside. The temperature was beginning to fluctuate, where somedays we would have summery weather, yet more and more we would have days where i in particular would shiver. i think i adjusted rather quickly being in good shape. But at first it was enough to give me the sniffles. in Chem. class, i didn’t want to blow my nose in class, so i asked to go to the washroom. i closed the door gingerly, and at the same time, i saw Maisie come out of a door very demurely just ahead of me on the other side of the hallway. i walked in my rhythmic pace. She walked about the same speed. Maybe a little slower. i think normally i wouldn’t have said anything. i didn’t feel nervous. i just really hoped i didn’t make any weird noises, because i really needed to blow my nose. Your Maisie, right? Yea. Your Texas, aren’t you. Well, i prefer tristan. but i’m, as far as i know, the only person here newly arrived from houston. Do you take offence to me calling you Texas? Yes. Your weird. i try. Stop. Maybe i’ll stop being weird when i’m older. For now I prefer the term enduring. i’m going to go to the bathroom. Why? What’s the rush? i have to get back to class. i saw into the classroom when you opened the door, it was just you and one of the teachers. i have to run. Well, okay. She turned around, though she looked back at me before i couldn’t see her anymore. She looked at me, though she didn’t portray any emotion. They were very clear eyes, sans malice. And, she needed only to survey me for a split second, and we reached an understanding. i wouldn’t say she had me all figured out, no—she had not met someone like me before. i was sure of this. When she left my eye sight, i hurried away quickly —but not too quickly — and i blew my nose thoroughly. Later, practice was less than fun. i was beginning to find the Coaches slightly sadistic. Much of what we did day-to-day felt like disciplining. i don’t think we need to do so much extra conditioning. For that reason i was happy to be in the hockey academy. The extra skills practice was extremely useful. Moreover it was fun, and the time we spent in the dressing room, or just lounging at lunch time, i’m sure that’s where any real learning might have happened. it seemed we were all good kids, whereas many other kids in the school were busy smoking and working, we were exercising, creating strength and balance, coordination, and studying ……. ….. i continually made a point of being friends with the female students in the group. Such a thing is never as easy as being friends with the guys — we are in the dressing room together, we play in the same leagues and associations. Alice was going back to her old school in the spring. My other friend Jeanne was one of the better players in the school overall. We spoke about my new infatuation. She is very pretty. Yes. Did you talk with her? She’s really nice too. i said hello to her, and we did speak briefly. That’s sweet. Don’t hit on her or everyone will think you are not a nice guy. And why would they think this? Because it looks like your trying to cheat on your girlfriend. That’s a bad guy. I could see you being the bad guy if you aren’t a little careful. Thank you for the warning. i’ll be o.k. Ya because i warned you. Exactly. We had our first family get-together. i spoke of the state of the world and of earning millions of dollars in the NHL, or where i might go to school. Mostly however, i listened to my Aunts and Uncles, and let them make the opinions of worldly things. The younger ones stuck together. We could just lie on the couch watching silly t.v. shows, and be content. The relatives, even if I was getting older, scared me immensely. I felt very safe when all the cousins were together. At least then there was a sort of surveillance, so no adult could come and pick on me or ask me to do something without feeling at least a little bit of guilt. At Dinner, I felt some hesitation as to whether I should sit with the adults, or whether I should sit with the cousins. I felt in between, that was all. The cousins where all sitting along the bar, which was only just adjacent to the dining room, so that a few times I ventured over to thank my aunt — for her cooking, or to ask my Dad about the Canucks score. I asked more for his sake, not because I really couldn’t wait to know, but that probably goes without saying. We do things for people we love. It was a good evening, all in all. Eva and I were growing closer spending time together at these. She was the closest in age to me. I went to bed pretty much right away. So much had happened, I filed it all away for a few days later, maybe when we would be on the ferry to Nanaimo, and quite possibly for years later. 

*

 i woke up and I found myself missing my little bro, and i was feeling more and more unsure about how he was doing. The reports from my stepmom sounded mostly what you would expect at first, every things fine, we’ll see how he does with the adjustment. But as time went along, her reports were similarly unrevealing and evasive, and i couldn’t help but wonder what was going on between the two of them. A lot of the time she wouldn’t make him available to talk on the phone. Oh, it was the time change. Oh, he’s busy right now. When i did get him on the phone, i couldn’t engage him at all, he just gave one word answers as if i couldn’t be much support and as if she were listening, ready to take the phone back. He didn’t seem to have a voice, she spoke for him, and that concerned me. Then again, maybe i was just overreacting, maybe i was just seeing my own feelings of adolescent alienation reflected in him or, you know, maybe i wasn’t. Whether or not he would be better off here, it’s hard to say. i would like to say that i could take good care of him, or at least that here with me and Dad he’d be safe and supported, and sort of understood. Whereas there was probably no understanding between my step-mother and him. But the influence of our relatives might not be the best things to introduce him too. And i don’t have time to be his babysitter. Dad works all the time, but my step-mother doesn’t work at all. i miss my real mom and i wish she was here for him. it’s not her fault, and i wish he knew everything about her i know. Since then, i sometimes feel like i have a kid of my own. But i try not to think about it. My life I do try and think is still my life. it’s pretty straightforward, i think. that morning after our thanksgiving get-together, my Dad called out to me from the table where he was eating his breakfast. Hey kid, you’re in the paper. Really? Ya, come look. See here, pretty cool, hey. Oh it’s just my picture. Ya but your names there too. Ya pretty cool. The caption was that we had an unbeaten streak of ten games. it was pretty impressive. i went into the living room where my laptop was, sitting on the coffee table. i looked through Facebook and commented on one or two things. Usually i don’t, because i find most conversations on Facebook to be totally inane, and yet still i have the anxiety that were using it as a replacement for face-to-face talking. No one values one-on-one time enough anymore. i can’t say I followed any profiles particularly, but lately my facebook consumption if you will was far too much. Talking to my friends from Houston, i missed being a part of everything. Things were different here, it was a lot easier to get depressed, especially if you dwelled too long on the differences between the two. i think i played pretty well, the next game. i had two assists. i came home, ate another dinner, restively watched t.v., and then I’m up again at 6 30 for the next game. The rest of Sunday flew by and on Monday i had two classes and there was no practice, so i went home and i got started reading Faulkner. i really liked the short stories, but i found many of the novels too reaching, the multiple perspectives are really cool and all but seriously, who wants to read a novel narrated by a country bumpkin, or by someone with a strain of autism? it’s very well to get to know people such as the ones just referenced now, however i cannot say it connotes with great reading pleasure. By the time my Dad got home, i put the books aside for a while and we talked about the step-mom and Allister. Even my Dad was a little concerned about what could be happening between the two of them, as much as he ostensibly trusted her. On tuesday i had a feeling i would see Maisie again. i’m sure she was in the classroom just across the hall, even though she said she wouldn’t be. After class i walked by there, and looked around for here but i couldn’t find her. it wouldn’t happen this way. The next day, i asked Jeanne if she knew her. apparently they were friends and they had lunch together sometimes. maybe next week, she said, i could come along. Well this was good news, and i was looking forward to it. i missed Agnes. But lunch was just lunch anyways. The coaches were starting to work with players more individually now. At first, we would work on positioning and breakouts and always on the power play, though now we were watching more video, they would say you’re not shooting enough when you’re in this area, he’s not getting the puck out of the zone, your gaps with forwards are too wide. And we had more time to work on skills. We had skills practices once a week, and more and more we would do small area scrimmages, or have time to work on puck handling. Wednesday rolled around and Jeanne said her and Maisie were going for lunch again if I wanted to come along. I was a little nervous, and felt like I was being a bit presumptuous, but I was sure it would all be sterling eventually. We walked out towards the courtyard where on sunny days sometimes students sat at break. There was a nook made by two ledges separating the pavement and the greenery. We sat there. She was already there, with one other friend of hers. The weather was crisp though the sun was beaming. Maisie was flushed a little from the sun, her dress rippling lightly in the breeze. She was moving her fingers with her phone. They were all very eager to gossip. They talked about this person and that person, all very seriously. ‘i’m from the eastern side, but the drama programs are better here.’ it was good to know that about Maisie. Jeanne used her hands too much when she was speaking. They did not make up for anything. The breeze was less frequent. Sometimes lunch hour was very long. ‘I always wait for the winter to come, and then I miss the thunderstorms. summer is when the best one’s happen. ‘not here though.’ ‘no, there isn’t,’ maisie said. she sat very still, balancing us. Sometimes students walked by us, but no one touched her strange composure. ‘My Dad works for the University. He is a professor of soulology. A professor of what did you say? I said he is a professor of biology. Did i mishear you? Yes I think so. i was bored. i’d be in physics soon. it was more fun to talk about parabolas than people i hardly know. No I don’t think we’re going. We should. What day are you leaving? Friday, but i’m dying until then. We should perish in style. i think i had eaten enough. i felt more interested in the cocktail version of this. We walked to class. Maisie’s was right by mine. So, i wasn’t worth getting to know last time?, i asked her. i don’t need to get to know you. i can tell how you are. i feel in some way violated. Don’t. i can’t tell how you are. i can tell how most people are. But you i’m still trying to figure it out a bit. That got a small smile from here. Well, you better be quick about it or you’ll never get to figure me out. Is that an innuendo? i don’t think so. What kind of time frame are you suggesting? A few weeks. We walked for a while and we were on a covered path, almost to her building. Are you getting together with Jeanne soon? She dropped her head a little, and after a short pause she said they were going to do something next week. We were at the southeast building, and she said bye. She went through the door, and i headed to my first class of the afternoon and later that day, cozied up in my room, i thought all about our lunch. i did some homework, and i made myself some dinner, and then i went to bed early, feeling very content. 

*

 A few days rolled by very smoothly. My Dad was doing well, hockey was alright, and the weather was nice so i was spending lots of time in the sun. i was at a park nearby on sunday with my skateboard, which I still have, even though i rarely use it. There was a nice little rail that i think was for bikes. i tried a nose grind out a few times, but i wasn’t wearing a helmet so i was just taking it easy. After an hour or perhaps two, i sat down on a ledge facing the school. There was lots of trees around, i was in shade and the colouring was green. i was sitting in front of a bush, so people on the street or in the houses opposite the park couldn’t see me, and if i spoke in hushed tones, they couldn’t hear me either. My phone lit up. i was wearing light shorts, so i could see its screen through them. It was Agnes, who i hadn’t heard from in a while, though i had sent a few messages. She was sounding a little bit high strung, maybe a little anxious. But i spoke softly and i think she could feel that i was in a private space. Her voice became less high strung, and took on the slow, soothing tone I was hearing in my voice. She didn’t say i haven’t heard from you in a while, and neither did i, we just started talking where we left off last time, although it wasn’t so smooth a transition at first. So i can’t decide whether i want to stay local or leave the state. i still want to go somewhere in the West but my parents and everyone want me to stay here and like everyone is going to UT. Well i think you should probably go there, it’s a pretty stellar school. Its too big for my liking, but it would be fun as long as you fit in. Which probably only requires liking the longhorns and being at least moderately conservative… besides you already know half the freshman class. Why start over when everything is fine there? Ya. Well. erm. what are you doing? Are you staying over there? That’s what we talked about. Probably for next year and then we'll see. But don’t you want to be back here? Ya, i do. But its like we talked about. i have to see this through. If i don’t see it through, then i’m not the person i was a few years ago, and I’m not the person i was when i was kid. Ya. But it sucks being away from everybody. i haven’t talked about it with anybody, but its like i’ve just been ripped out of my own life. i feel very alone. Well then why don’t you move back here?, i was moving the board side to side gently. After a pause i said to her i’m going back just after christmas so i’ll see everyone then. Ya but thats not the same. i know. but at least we’ll see each other. Ya., We didn’t say anything for a few moments. Then she told me some of her friends weren’t hanging out with her anymore, and she was hurt about it. She had always gotten along with everybody, and now for the first time she was having a little trouble having time for all the friends she had. But i’m glad i’ll get to see you. i’m excited. i miss you so much. i miss you too, i’m going to get going home now, its dusk. love you. love you too. i boarded home pretty quickly because it was all downhill. The air was a little bit chilly now. The soft light quietly pervaded everything around me. i could see very well, with enough light to give colour to the suburb, and just dark enough so my eyes weren’t strained and they were receiving ample light. My personal life was complex, but it felt pretty good to be only seventeen. 

*

 The Mac’s happened in a couple months and at practice we were preparing for it all the time, the coaches were always talking about it. I think coach’s talks are useful — and its like getting one-on-one teaching all the time for the whole school year — but it feels excessive and a little too intense. Iain was actually pretty good at having something different to say, he was always pretty well prepared for practice. And in the gym they were working us so hard — but I think we would have been a much better team if he had us doing actual strength building — even if the exercises were hockey specific, all they did was tire us out and use up our energy. And finals were coming up soon too. I guess they were sooner on the calendar, and were the more important thing. Agnes had been bugging me about starting to study for them, and I started with a little reluctance but I started nonetheless. I did some extra readings for English, which was well beyond what most students were doing. I was writing a short allegory based on Orlando. At home, I was on my laptop and Agnes sent me something about a festival in Austin when I’d be there. I didn’t feel like going away while I was sort of away already. Agnes’ facebook was still the most full, seeming to represent a very full busy happy life. She had over 2,000 pictures she was tagged in and I didn’t even know a lot of the people that posted on her wall, and she seemed to be adding new friends all of the time. I’m sure all that networking will steer her right into med school and early retirement and all of the things she wants, though she worries she’s not going to be able to achieve. Lots of people want that, and lots of people pray to God for them as well. I felt like I had gotten to know almost everyone in our year, though I wasn’t building a massive facebook. We had another get together with the relatives. Eva and I went down by the beach and bought ice creams. I don’t like mine. Why did you get it? I wanted what you got but I didn’t want to copycat you. You can have some if you want. No I like mine now. You change your mind quick. I know your right and I want some of yours again. Have a bite. I took a bite of her ice cream. That was good. That’s why I got it. Well I trust your decision making when it comes to buying ice creams. She laughed a little. The sun was halfway to the horizon, and sunset was not so far away. There were lots of boats on the water, there pace was calm, not flustered with the five knot limit. The water rippled and glimmered, the wind perusing it. Did you miss me all the way down in texas. Did I? So much, just intensely. Okay, don’t poke fun at me. We went all the way down to the water and walked with the water up to our ankles. We went a little ways, and then turned back around, going in little lines. We were together a lot when we were kids. I remembered a lot of it. Ailein was running around up by the picnic table, and we went and sat down on a blanket where mostly everyone had made there way now. I heard earlier that Aunt Aimee wasn’t feeling well. And now she looked it. Lloyd was sitting right next to her, and she whispered something to him, and then he said they had better drive to the hospital. I think a new Luthais was about to come into the world. It was late when we got home, and if only for a short while, we had a little quiet and calmness. 

*

 At school everything was wrapping up for the holidays. Whenever I was not on the ice I was studying. There wasn’t time for much of anything else. And yet it wasn’t unpleasant. I did study the things I wanted to, by this point. On the ice, whenever, I constantly thought about how much energy I was using and if it might be too much. I began to go a bit easier on hockey academy, so that I would have energy to go full on with my team. Away from hockey, I couldn’t avoid my personal relationships. And I was chatting more with my bro, and even though I couldn’t get him to tell me very much about what was happening at school or with his friends, we talked about a lot of things, PS3 games that he plays a lot, the explorations of our little dog hollander, about t.v. shows. I was getting anxious to be back and see what was happening with him. The plane ride was less than an hour, and even though we were well-behaved as far as hockey teams go, our excitement was everywhere on the plane. Anyone in a sour mood could have been brought up a little. There were going to be a lot of good players at this tournament, I guess some of my teammates had played against them already, or been at camps with them, or just knew there names from the bantam draft. Parents and siblings came, and restaurants, stores, proshops, they all were involved in the tournament. As we landed, it was dark, and the yellow lights of the city grew brighter and brighter, the city’s property’s were like big squares, the land exceptionally flat and the city organized in a no-nonsense manner. All the same, Calgary was sort of interesting. It was dry, near to the rockies, and absolutely scorching in the summers. We gathered our luggage and our equipment and sticks, which looked very impressive, everyone having four, or five of the same sticks and always top of the line. For three hundred dollars the sticks broke too often, but you needed to have them to be successful. We boarded another coach bus, and once again I put my ear phones on. We were staying at the Westin in downtown Calgary. Our room was nice, we had two beds and another room with a couch and another t.v., and the bathtub was well-sized, and that would be about the only positive about all the ice baths we would be taking. We went to dinner at Earls, and this time everyone was there including the parents, we must have filled out more than half the restaurant. It was enjoyable. Things were a little different here, there was a long bar with a big open kitchen behind it so they could show off their cooking—they did have lots of good steaks in Calgary. Mine was good. Our first game was the next day. I woke up and then I nudged Keane for breakfast, not that he needed much of one, and there was a buffet waiting for us. It was different than our previous weekends. There was a buzz in the building, and there were so many scores, players to watch, things to consider. We had a meeting, watched video from earlier in the season, and talked about some of the teams we would be playing, and then we just hung around for the morning. We were at the rink two hours before game time, and I taped all of my sticks, and I am sure I have never taken so long to tape them. I spent longer warming up my hands too. I had a wooden hockey ball and it was more fun doing toe-drags and flipping it up in the air than the games ever are. But I was pretty excited about this tournament, and the nerves were something to be dealt with, I wanted to be on my game, but at least I was feeling something. The first team we went up against was the Calgary bisons. They were rated fairly highly in their league, though they were in the middle of the pack in this tournament. One thing that was noticeable is that there team was a lot bigger than ours. But it didn’t turn out to be much of a game. We won 8-0, which seemed to confirm our ranking as the best team in Canada. Rankings, I don’t think they mean too much. Regardless, the pace was pretty fast, faster than our league is. We had a game in the morning the next day and we won that as well. Then we had a bit of time to recuperate. The tournament was six games in six days if you weren’t knocked out before the end. After our third game, which we won pretty handily, we had a day to recuperate and we needed something to do. We walked around in downtown Calgary, despite the minus twenty degree weather. We went through the shops, Keane bought things, everyone else looked. That night there was a power outage in downtown Calgary, but no one was sure just yet what was the cause of it. We were in our hotel rooms when it happened, and we went into the hallways and talked about what the heck was going on. Hey Keane, you happen to purchase a flashlight today? No, but there is one on my blackberry. For three hours, we used our phones to light our ways. I wondered if it affected all of the teams, or just the ones from different places. There weren’t any winds, or particularly bad weather to cause this large of an effect. Soon though it ended rather as inexplicably as it started…. Our game went ahead, delayed a couple of hours. At that point, we were already into the elimination games, and if we won this game, then we were automatically into the second round. That way we wouldn’t have to play another game the next morning. There were two other B.C. teams here, and they had done o.k., though they weren’t going to be placed very well for the elimination round. Our last game of the round robin was against the california selects. There wasn’t really anywhere higher to play unless you left California, so they had a bunch of veterans of one and even some of two years. It was a close game almost until the end. Some of their forwards were really skilled, and they liked to go carry the puck end to end like roller hockey players, and they scored a few goals before our defence men adjusted to their style. Spelling was the only one who really stood out. It was hard to really get space out there, or make plays, especially because the Coaches were stressing quick puck movement and safe plays. It was fun when he scored a couple goals that game, because both moves were ones that he practiced in hockey academy. A few players came up to me. Joining the Canadians now, eh? They thought that was funny. By the end of the third period it was 3-2 but Laurence scored an empty netter and then the game was pretty much over. Leonor and Lennie scored as well. The coverage of the tournament on the local t.v. news or in the papers all mentioned us and most news sources did a profile on Paul. When we got back to the hotel we had our ice baths and I managed the requisite ten minutes. That evening I talked with Agnes again and we were all set for my trip down there as soon as the Mac’s finished. You played well and everything. Yes. That’s good. I was looking things up on the web. It’s pretty cool. See I told you it would be exciting. Yea it’s exciting. So, just get here and then I’ll tell you like what plans we’re having and stuff. okay. I was going to join them in Austin two days after they left, and she said she was super excited. I was going to stay in the old house for four days, and I wasn’t sure how that was going to go. I found I was thinking about Maisie more and more. I had been seeing her more often. I was with her the next weekend after our first thing with Jeanne. It was a quaint house. It was nice, not too nice. It was new. Well furnished, a little bourgeoisie. Her Dad was a lawyer or banker, I believe. We were hanging out in the living room mostly. I guess her parents were away that night. We did peruse their liquor cabinet. There were a few quality malt whiskeys, not too beady but with some bite. I guess I wasn’t really supposed to be drinking, and if my Coach new, he would be upset. I guess it can take a lot out of you, but I’m pretty sure a moderate night of drinking, when we didn’t have a game the next day, well that’s nothing to be very worried about. Maisie was sitting right across from me, and I just wanted to talk with her. I enjoyed everyone’s company. Gerard was even a pretty good musician. We talked about the bands he liked but he lost me somewhere around motor head, which isn’t anything I like very much. Jeanne and Maisie got up at one point and went upstairs. I had another drink and they were smoking i guess but I can’t do that. It was a nice house, but I didn’t like it that much. I wasn’t having the time of my life with these guys, but there was a reverential quality to sitting on the floor somewhere new but comfortable. I admit that I glanced at the stairs a couple times to see when they were coming back. It was another fifteen minutes before they came back down, and then they went out back. I think they might have been going out there to meet someone, or just to talk about all of us somewhere new, with something to look at… I got up with something of an intention to join them, ostensibly checking to see what they were up to, and whether they weren’t ready to call it a wrap. I opened the backdoor, they had closed the screen door and the actual backdoor. Hey Jeanne said. What are you guys up to in there. Just wondering what you guys are doing. Just hanging out. Girl talk. Ah. I was wondering, not that I’m ready to leave yet, how everyone’s getting home. I am not sure, we’ll decide later. can I sit with ya’ll for a bit. It's nice out here. Did you get in touch with Edwin yet? Not yet. I think he’s still on his way home. About time he gets back to me though. Whatever I’m sure you can just see him tomorrow, Maisie said. Yea. Edwin is totally out of it now. Ya they’ve all had a lot to drink now. We should probably send them home about this time. Ya. K all be right back Maisie I’m just going to go talk to them and check my messages upstairs quickly. Finally we were alone for a bit, with some privacy. She had been looking off into the distance softly, but presently she turned her head and smiled at me. So do you like me, tristan? Well of course I do. Really? Because that’s what everyone is saying, just so you know. I’m surprised. I thought I was being subtle. You were kind of, but you’re always subtle so everything is a give-away. Everything you do you do on purpose. I just looked down after she said that. What are you doing out here? Jeanne is freaking about Gerard and like we’re just kind of over it now. It’s almost two. Ya, I can’t believe were still here. So, do you miss Houston? Yes I miss it and I wonder a lot of the time why I came at all. Everyone knows why you came too. Again with this everyone. Well they are all interested in you. I don’t think she meant to say something with big implications, she was just messing around a little bit. I think she was almost resolved to go back inside because it had been quiet for too long before I just told her ok so I like you a lot. You’re right everyone knows. Do you have that feeling too. Hmm. I’m not sure what you’re talking about. Now I was looking at her again, trying not to be pleading. It wasn’t so funny. She just said, without much inflection, what are you going to do about this? I averted my eyes, looking pensive, and I looked at here again. We weren’t very far apart now. I dunno, I said. I was looking at her with seriousness now, and she mirrored my look. Then I kissed her. She let me, she smiled while we kissed. Her lips were cold, and mine were still warm. Sometimes you kiss someone and it feels like nothing but this was a lovely first kiss and I just wanted to say I love you. I figured it wouldn’t last very long but we were alone for some time, she ran ran her palm and fingers across my abdomen, and then caressed my forearm and led it towards her. We heard someone coming and we disengaged gently, I let go of her hand just before the door was opened and Jeanne came out. She said Hey — he’s coming here now, and by the end of her sentence her breathless excitement dissipated into the feeling of quiet and intimacy that she had just walked into, hey I didn’t think you’d still be out here. It’s crisp out here, I said. Oh, she sat down, took out her phone and started texting, and after a few minutes of talking, mostly her, Edwin’s car could be heard, the car coming to a stop, the headlights travelling through the fences narrow perforations. He was a bit of a diffident human being, all in all a pretty decent guy and I didn’t have any qualms with his and Jeanne’s ‘thing’. They talked for a while, and Maisie and I rather quickly slid away back inside with everyone else. They were talking about an incident at school that everyone had been talking about, but it was clear they had been listening while we were outside. There countenances and their arousals changed when we came inside. Edwin was explaining something, and he finished explaining it, and then the quiet was palpable, I just said It’s getting pretty late. Ya we should take off, Edwin said. Anyone need a ride, I asked? Nah, were good. Elsa lives down the street and were gonna crash there. Okay. how about you, Maisie? I have to go home and put the animals in their cages, and feed them in the morning too. I think Jeanne’s going to give me a ride. Well, I’m leaving now if you wanna come. That’s fine, I’ll just wait until she’s ready. Alright. But are you sure? It’s not out of the way, and you know Jeanne’s going to be a while. She looked down a little shyly. She smiled. I’ll just ask her quickly. She went outside walking quickly, closing the door so as not to let the cold air in, and when she came inside and ran back over to us, Gerard was supposed to drive us, but he’s had too much to drink, even though he drove over here. He says he really feels it now… Coming with me then? Yup, just let me grab my stuff. We left without particularly ceremonial goodbye’s, — the regal formality would come later. We got in my Dad’s Infiniti. Want to drive? You can. I had been playing blonde on blonde. It was my favourite cd in his collection. I turned to the fm radio and kept the volume low. We drove for a little while, her home wasn’t too far, and when we got to her street, she told me which house was hers. Can I see your pup? Ya! We spoke quietly, the night having hushed the city. She unlocked the door, and she stepped into the dark entry before she turned on some of the lights. The animals were simpering and scratching to greet her from a room ahead of us. When she let them through the door, they ran for her and licked her hands, moving around excitedly as you might expect from any well-cared for pet. Then very quickly they came to meet me, and I knelt down and pet them both. We were there for a little while, we sat down on the couch and we laughed about the evening, and the overall course our new friendship had taken, was taking. We started hooking up again right away. Slowly, I took off all her clothes. She had a very frail waist. She didn’t have to take mine off. I don’t actually need to move myself so slowly? This time you do. That’s promising. After a few hours, I drove home. And when I got there I entered quietly, not to wake my Dad at four in the morning, and I brushed my teeth and made my way to bed, serenely forgetting the world for a few hours. 

*

 The day the finals came along was the same day as the winter classic. That was the second year it had taken place. The first was spectacular, with Pittsburgh and Buffalo. The players in toques and turtlenecks, it was reminiscent of winters spent on ponds by many generations of Americans and Canadians. This year, Detroit and Chicago were playing, two powerhouses, and it would have been great to get to watch it, but our game was at one in the afternoon, and we started preparing first thing in the morning. The game was at the Saddledome, so the ride there took a little longer. We were at the rink three hours before the game, and actually being there for such a long time, it was a bit of a let down — we were so happy to play there, but we spent more time preparing for the game then playing it. Before the game, camera crews came into the dressing room, while we were about halfready, tying our skates and taping sticks. The big story was Paul, and the cameras spent a little more time on him taping a stick than on anything else. When the t.v. program went to commercial, they had him on the camera, raising anticipation about what he might accomplish on the ice today. When Coach Iain came in, he wasn’t scared to say that he thought we had a good chance of winning, and he was right, we had a really good chance of winning. This team wasn’t very good, they were bigger and maybe stronger, but they weren’t very talented or fast. I guess we were all pretty good hockey players at this level, I wasn’t really sure how much better players were at the next level, or in the NHL, I guess a lot better in the NHL, but everyone on this team would get to the next level if they wanted to and we all did want to. In the opening ceremony, looking around, I could see 10,000 people. My Dad was by their blue line, looking at the players like a scout might, and looking at the arena in a modest admiration. The Ice was a little softer than you’d expect for an NHL arena, but it was still pretty good. And the temperature in the arena, it was warm in there. That was a little winding, especially if you were used to playing in the Burnaby Winter Club, like we were. The pace was so much more intense than the previous games of the tournament. Paul started along with Layton and Keane and they didn’t score, or have any good chances, but they gave us puck control and set a good pace that the Calgary team would hopefully have problems keeping up with. My first shift, the puck was in there end when I got on the ice, and their d-man made a turnover because of our forecheck, and I got the puck, made a crisp pass back to the blue line, and Leonor got a good shot off, but without much of a rebound. I won the face-off, and tried to get a bit of space with puck and wait for someone to come to me to create an open person as per usual, but Lennie bobbled my pass a little bit in front of the net, there was a defencemen tying up his stick that couldn’t get loose from in time. Otherwise it would have been a good chance. We kept our shifts short because this was our sixth game in six days. We were back out shortly, and we had a smooth breakout and good rush, but it was tough to make plays. They were pretty good in their own zone. There were no goals before the first commercial break, and Coach Iain was screaming about puck movement and getting more shots, it was seeming that he felt a lead needed to happen soon, otherwise it would get tougher and tougher if we didn’t shut their lights out early. They were already starting to get a bit of hope. It wasn’t until ten minutes into the period that we got our first power-play. It was a gorgeous set-up with Spelling on the half wall, and Lawrence on the point, and he walked the puck across the line, and then saucer passed it to Spelling, and Spelling moved in from the boards and put a slap shot just over the pads, like had happened thirty times already this season. We had the lead now. After that, we had momentum for the rest of the period, all though they had a few chances in the last minute. We didn’t get another goal before the buzzer went and we went to the dressing room up 1 to 0. The energy was still pretty good, and there were lots of snacks and powerade to get us refueled. Usually I wouldn’t eat anything, but I had a muffin and half a cliff bar, because we had eaten so much earlier, and left so much earlier than usual. The game was on the t.v.’s in the room, though there was no sound. The highlights from the period were shown, and I was in there just briefly with the very crisp pass to the point. The energy was still good in the room, although I felt a little heavy. I was skating as hard as I could, and the six games were draining. Coach Iain was a little flustered, but he spoke positively, and everything still was looking okay, we were usually up by at least two or three goals by now, but it could be expected that in a final game the other team would have more jump than most days. The second period, there was more buzz in the crowd, and although Calgary had a large supporting group, it was mostly because it was a close game. It was not easy to cheer against a team like ours. Our passes weren’t as smooth as usual, and we were a bit jumpy, but we did calm down and outshot them by a wide margin, though we weren’t able to put one in. Paul always played unselfishly, but he was starting to carry the puck too much, as if he felt like he had to take all the responsibility on his shoulders, and he turned the puck over once when he had a clear pass to a line mate, and took shots from bad angles when other players were open in better spots. On our fourth power play though, he got it done again, scoring an easy backdoor goal, and we were up 2-0. It wasn’t a great period all together though, they got one goal right after Spelling's goal, and then they got another one before the period ended. It was crushing to see our lead disappear. We were rather silent as we went into the dressing-room. But everyone was trying to stay positive and get the energy up again. After all, we only had to get one more goal to win. I think if this were a normal game, Coach Iain would be throwing things, screaming very loudly, and berating players, coaching staff, parents, managers, news reporters, the referee’s, and whoever else there was in or near the Winter Club. Here, his voice was more quiet than is normal. I think he was with us more on this one, it had been a long six days, and he felt about the same as we did. We deserved to win this game, we were the better team, we were the harder working team, we were going to leave everything on the ice so that we could win. When the intermission was done with, fans were already cheering when the teams came back onto the benches, and onto the ice, and people were along the sides of the walkway, looking for a fist pump from the players. I could feel the lactic acid in my legs, I had many bruises, and I hadn’t told the coaching staff, that when I wasn’t playing I could barely move my back. It was just stiff, I think. When my body was warm, it was o.k., though every time I got hit it was a searing pain in my lower back. We really took it to them to start the period, and we got a goal seven minutes in by Sam. It was a rebound, a hard-working goal, with several players crashing the net, the goalie flailing desperately. We just had to hold the lead now, for another thirteen and a half minutes. I was having an excellent game as far as plus-minus, defensive play, creating chances, but we hadn’t lit the lamp yet. That didn’t matter as much this late in the game as keeping the lead, and winning the Mac’s. We were keeping them to the outside, they weren’t getting very many chances, and we even had a few times when we almost went up 4-2. By the five minute mark, they still hadn’t created any good chances, and really they hadn’t the whole game, but they had gotten a few lucky goals. Now everything was tighter and their goalie was starting to give the Coach anxious glances, wondering if they should switch to six attackers soon. They still weren’t getting many good chances. With two minutes left, they pulled their goalie, and got puck possession in our zone. They were strong in the corners, and our defence men were a lot smaller than their forwards. They got an okay shot on net from just about the top of the face-off circles, and Kevin didn’t have many plays but to cover the puck, because there were two players right on him. They called a time-out, what would be expected, and it was a little frightening. If they won the draw, then they might score, and more than half a period of carefully protecting the lead would be meaningless, and we’d be heading to overtime. The Coach made a huddle with the players, Spelling would be at centre taking the draw. They were going to try and draw the puck back to a forward at the top of the circle, and then have two wingers going to the net to screen. It was a pretty typical play, and apparently, they did it every time. Spelling got ready for the draw, it was on his strong side. He dug in his skates, put his stick down just before the Calgary player, and he won it cleanly. They forechecked really hard though, and nine times in ten, the d-man would have gotten the puck out of the zone. Erin didn’t want to go up the middle so he bounced the puck off the glass, and one of the Calgary defencemen caught it with his body. It him in the chest, and he must have been six seven on skates. Erin probably could have gotten a little more strength in his clearing attempt, but he didn’t have much time to make a play. The defenceman waited for the puck to settle for just a couple moments, before there was a forward on him, and sent the puck back into the corner. There was a scrum that lasted nearly five seconds, and one of their players recovered the puck. He walked halfway out of the corner, and shot on net, and there was a rebound. Kevin made the next save too, but it was pad save, and though his rebound control was pretty good, they had a player at the side of the net who got the second rebound, and one-timed it into the net. Then they were celebrating, and our whole team felt the wind taken out of us. We would have to have another intermission, and we would have to have sudden-death overtime as well. In the dressing room, we all had a little something to eat, lots of Gatorade, lots of water. If it went more than two or three overtimes, then we would probably have pizza brought in or something. We are young and we are going on fumes, but it was as if the game had just begun. We had a lot more hockey to play in us, and hopefully we could get the first goal, and the sooner the better. In overtime, you had to be extra-cautious, because any mistake could be a goal for the other team, and then it would be that person’s fault that we lost the game, and no one wants that. Both teams were playing safe, though whenever we got in their end, our only concern was scoring. The longer the game went, the more of a crapshoot it was. And that wasn’t very fair, considering all the work we had done, all the first half of the season, all of the pre-season. There were three or four times when, even if it was overtime, the referee’s definitely should have called a penalty on the Buffalo’s. But they weren’t calling them, and it was making Coach Iain furious, and even I had to wonder, if there wasn’t obvious favouritism going on in this game, especially now in overtime. Those suspicions seem on the mark, when we got a penalty against us in the last minute of the period. It was a marginal call at best, even on the replay, and now they would have a minute of powerplay before we got to recover, and another minute after when the ice was fresh. Spelling took the draw again, he must have taken more draws than the players on either team together, and he won this one, though it was a little less clean. We got the puck out though, and they didn’t regain entry into our dzone before the end of the period. In the intermission we were quieter this time, everyone acknowledging our collective need to recover. The minute left remaining on their power play hung above our heads like the darkest of clouds. When we got back on the ice, the lights actually hurt my eyes a bit. I was feeling the drain by now, and by the looks on everyone’s faces, as much as we were staying positive and speaking encouragingly, we were a little low on spark…but we did kill the penalty, and we were able to play strong throughout that period. We had so many chances, but there goalie was playing exceptional, and he was giving their players a big boost in confidence. They were feeling like they could win, like they could take chances and feel sure he would stop them. We still hadn’t gotten a power play since the second period. I guess they knew that our power play was lethal, whoever they was, the buffalo’s, perhaps the referee’s, perhaps the city. I guess it is a better story for them if the hometown team wins, than if we were to win. The period was over and still there wasn’t a winner yet. This intermission Coach Iain didn’t give a speech, he just gave us the whole time to recover. When we got back on the ice, it was very choppy now, even with the fresh zamboni. It was hard to make good passes, and there was even a good chance of tripping in some of the rougher patches in the corners. You could tell both teams were getting worn down. Players were taking very short shifts, and a lot of the time now they would just make the safe play, like dumping the puck, instead of making a rush, which meant using a lot of energy. Paul wasn’t double-shifting anymore, but playing every third shift. To make the game seem that much more unfair, they got another power play before we’d had one in overtime, and it didn’t feel very good this time. They might score. The faceoff was in the neutral zone, and they got set-up in our zone. It was looking innocuous enough, until a seam opened up in the middle of the ice, and the winger saw it, sent the puck across the ice, and another forward one-timed from the hashmarks, and into the net. They won the game then. And they threw their sticks, and their gloves, up in the air, and they began celebrating. We had to stay on the bench, feeling pretty awful, until they were about ready to line up and shake hands. Then they presented player of the game and player of the tournament. Their goalie got player of the game, and Paul got mvp of the Mac’s. He accepted it with solemn grace, and he handled it all well, only smiling very lightly for a second when the request for a picture with some of the major sponsors of the tournament was requested of him. After that, they brought out medals, presenting us with our silver medals, and then gold medals, and the trophy for the Calgary team. And as soon as we could then, we got off of the ice while they were celebrating. It was a bitter feeling, and there was not much to say after the game. To try and find a silver-lining out of it, even with our ranking, no one thought we would make it out of the roundrobin. We got packed quickly, left the rink, went back to the hotel, ate what might have been a celebratory feast, and went to bed early for our red-eye flight back to Vancouver. 

*

 Everyone was still a little shaken up as we got on the bus to the airport, and it wasn’t until we had almost landed that the boisterous energy of being a group of teenage boys that spent most of our time together began to show again. My Dad drove home, and bringing my bag up the stairs to our house stunk. I didn’t unpack my suitcase or my equipment, and just lay down on the couch for a while, my dad watching t.v., me half-watching, mostly thinking about what had gone wrong, and what was going to happen now, whether I was going to feel like going to School in a week, because right now I didn’t feel like I could go around and explain how we almost won. And I wondered if I was going to be able to leave tomorrow, and go to houston, and to explain to everyone that it was going well except that we lost our most important game so far, after winning twenty games in a row. I would explain it once, then try not to talk about it again. Ask Agnes, I might end up saying to people. How I was going to stay with my step-mom, and how I was going to be be a good big-brother in such a short amount of time. He really should have come with us. I wish he had. 

*

 II. The day I had to depart for Houston was one of dread and a nervous anticipation. It was horrid, it was unpleasant, it was full of promise for renewal, it was a little romantic. Mostly, I was not looking forward to it as I sat on the plane, my head still hurting, my back aching, bruises on my legs, stomach, a gash on two of my fingers, and the weighing unfortunate responsibility, the irresistible pull into adulthood. I was able to sleep for a few hours on the plane, and I felt better afterwards. I had a few juices as well, and the sweet taste roused me a little. For the last while of the trip, I watched the curious case of Benjamin Button. Was it Fitzgerald’s best short story? Probably not. Was it one that he wrote for money? Yes. It was an interesting rendition with an exceptional looking cast, as is fitting for any Fitzgerald story, I suppose. Arriving, it was just getting dark in Houston, and the vast size of the city struck me again. I had been through the airport many times, riding the moving sidewalks, the same restaurants, the same feeling, the same sounds. My step-mother was supposed to be there to meet me, with my little brother, but I couldn’t find her. I texted her and then she wasn’t replying. I was just about to start calling friends when she text me back. Got held up. Will talk later. Take a cab hon. I wasn’t really in the mood for that, and it would be an expensive cab-ride, but oh well I guess. I suppose this way the car ride with screaming had no chance of occurring. It took all of forty-five minutes to get home, the traffic was pretty light. It was something of a gaudy house, I had to admit. After accustoming myself to Vancouver, this quality was more apparent. There were probably another thousand of these homes, strewn across the city in various neighbourhoods. It was distinguished by its perch on a slight hill, which were rare in Houston. It was a slightly unsatisfying brown colour, like one of those adobe huts but without the authenticity, or the hand-made pride… I walked up the steps, all the lights where on, and when I knocked on the door, there was no immediate answer, but I found that it was open. I stepped inside, and Allister was just coming to the door. He was a little stooped over, but I could see he was getting taller. He looked thin, though he still had those chubby baby cheeks that he had for years. I was so happy to see him, and to see him looking well, not in any way ravaged by his present circumstances, which I would learn more about in the coming week. I put my things down by the entrance and I let him walk over to me and I gave him a good hug, a light noogie on the back of his head, not a real one, because that would be lame. Good to see ya, kiddo. How are things? Good. Ya? Where’s your step mom? Upstairs I think. I don’t know. Okay. Have you eaten yet? No. Did she make something? No. Really? Well, o.k.. I’ll get you something in a second. I brought my things up the stairs to my old room, and then went over to my parents old bedroom. I figured she’d be in there. She was. She was lying in bed with a rather facile novel. Hi there. Oh hello. When did you get in? Not very long ago. Just then. Oh. Well I’m glad your here. You can have your old room there. How do you mean, where you thinking of giving it away? Well I wasn’t sure if you were coming back or not. It’s not as if you like talking to me or being here except when your father’s here. Good point. Well, nice to see you. Did you guys have anything for dinner? No were fine I think. We had salads four or five hours before. Ah. Alright then. I went back downstairs, and I looked in the fridge. There wasn’t a whole lot. There some leftovers, but from how long ago I wasn’t sure. Bud you want something to eat. Yaa. Okay, I’m going to go get something. One thing about being home, is I could drive here, whereas in Canada I only had a learner’s permit. There was a fiven’guy’s up the street where Teagan had been working. Well — it was five minutes away, by the old middle school. He was working that night, and it was great to see his face. His hair was very long, and he looked a little bit goth or i’m not sure what you would characterize it, but it was only slight, he still looked like the fresh-faced kid he had been when we were kids, just with a little bit of edge. His bangs were in his face, but he brushed them off his forehead with his hands, and when he smiled he didn’t look so angsty. We talked about Vancouver, inevitably about the tournament that we lost, and about Westside. He said it was good, except that the transfers from Louisiana were causing some trouble. Hurricane Katrina had displaced many people, and a lot of them had come to Houston temporarily. A gun had gone off in the cafeteria, and there was a string of fights. He said that the sports teams were really exciting, even if he thought some of the guys were dicks, and he said that the seniors tried to haze the freshman all the time, but he said it could be a lot worse, for instance, in Sharpstown. I envied being with the same people we went to middle school and elementary. We would have to hang more before I left, though I said not tonight because I need to rest or I’ll be out of it for weeks. When I got back to the house, Allister and I sat around the t.v., watching whatever for a couple of hours. He was definitely hungry, and thirsty, and I wondered if anyone was looking after him at all. 

*

 The next day, I was up at about six, the timechange seeming to leave me no worse for wear, I could have gone to bed early anywhere in the world. I felt a little better now. And so I made myself some cereal, there was that there, with some milk, that was in there, and I read the paper for a while, though no one was up for the next hour. I thought about waking Allister up, but I didn’t know his sleeping patterns. It was a weekend, so maybe he slept in then like I did sometimes. Paige didn’t come down until nine o’clock. She made some coffee, and I was feeling a little stir crazy by then, and I went out for a walk just to the school park that wasn’t very far. It was where I went to school when I was a wee kid. I sat on the swing-set, and pushed back-and-forth for a while. I guess if this were a weekday I would probably know everyone walking around. As it was now, there wasn’t really anybody out and about. Texans were a bit more so homebodies. They liked to watch Sunday football, I suppose. I made some plans for the next few days, and after a half hour or so I thought I should see if Allister was up yet. He wasn’t and I was a little surprised. He slept in late, and finally at eleven, I had been reading for an hour and a half or so, I went and woke him up. I said let’s do something today. He was obliging, and he was up and looking o.k. to go in fifteen or so. He had taken a shower the night before. I told him he could grab a snack now, and I would buy lunch. The weather wasn’t very nice, it was threatening to be another day of thunderstorms, the whole day pockets of rain would probably be falling, with an intensity enough to make you have to pull your car over because you couldn’t see, listening to the thunder, seeing the lasts bits of lightning while you drove home through puddles hours later. We headed out toward Katy Mills mall. It was a half hour drive, and when we got there, it was just a little nauseating, driving around the enormous mall, to where the theatres where. We watched the Chronicles of Narnia, even though he wasn’t a big fantasy fan, we had watched all the previous ones together. This time, I sort of liked Prince Caspian, though I suppose the most admirable male lead was Peter. It was quite beautifully done, though the story was a little bit threadbare, in comparison to the novels. Even so I liked it, and I couldn’t help but wish I had that much money to make a movie. I’m sure I could do something special. Well, to be a bit more modest, it would be hard not to with a crew as long as the credits in this movie. Goodness. Allister didn’t want anything too healthy, so I got him a hot dog…we would have to eat healthier in the next couple days. He payed attention the whole time, and when I asked him if he liked it, he said he did. I didn’t ask him very many questions, I felt like we should be talking, but maybe he had something of the quiet thing too. When it was over, we walked around. We had a vague destination of eb games, though there was no hurry to get there. I suppose it was likely we would encounter a familiar person or two, though it is a very big city. He was interested in the items that could be seen through the store windows, some faces amused him, he seemed well at ease. Inside eb, I was looking at all the years of NHL games, and it was peculiar that he had never become interested in the game—the game as a whole, and not just the ea sports video game. I guess it was more peculiar that I got in to the sport at all. There wasn’t much new that was of interest, and I refused to buy him call of duty, though I knew we would enjoy playing it. I’m sure all the explosions and missiles and guns and deaths were nothing good for his very young brain. We bought a new controller, the old one being bitten up severely by our stepmom’s ferocious little chiwawa like mutt. Even though it’s a mutt, she paid a lot for the little guy. And she pays more and more as the months go by, and he is possibly more and more spoiled every day. When we got home, I went to my room and lay down a little, winding down from the stimulation of driving long distances on a busy highway, being in a crowded mall, and watching a long movie on a near imax screen. I hadn’t gotten many calls. I guess the thing to do was call Agnes. She was expecting my call. I gave her a ring on her cell. She didn’t answer, which was surprising, usually even if she was driving or running or maybe even in the shower, she would answer her phone. I left a short message, saying I had arrived yesterday, and I was just hanging out now with Allister. That was a good afternoon, it was great catching up, and that feeling of longing to be home, most of it was gone right now. My phone vibrated, and Agnes had called back pretty quickly. I answered with brightness, hiding the extent of my feelings of comfort. We talked about what she had been up to the past week, waiting for me to come down here. They were in Austin now, and they were having fun she said and I’m sure they were having a ton of it, with me there or not there I’m sure they were having fun. She ran into this person, and that person and they were staying here but they didn’t like it so they paid more and went over to there and her Mom was calling her Dad was having trouble walking on his bad knee again and she felt bad for him and had to tell someone so and they were doing this today and eating there and going here afterwards and they would have room for me on this day and I know your busy but try and get here by then ok. Things were going so well since I had been back, Texas seemed great, though it took something of a new aspect now. It couldn’t always be me and Allister. Other people would multiply our things to worry about. For only so long could we stay far away from what we knew only knew so little about, the real world and its malcontents. 

*

 There was some screaming upstairs and I went out into the living room and listened to see what was going on. Something about Allister being lazy and needing a shower and go outside and do something. Perhaps the disagreement between our generation and the previous about what is a useful way to spend our precious youth. But something more, something personal but also trivial and I didn’t particularly like her yelling at my family, even if it was under the guise, even if it was for the explicit purpose, of trying to help him. Rounding the corner at the top of the stairs, he was sitting on his bed with his head down at his shoulders slouched as if he actually were the miniature monster with soft little fingers and pearly teeth(but surely something fierce behind that precious facade) and she was leaned forward yelling at him in what might as well be a high school students vernacular. I asked what’s going on up here? Nothing you need to worry about. Are you sure? Yes, just go back to your room or something. Okay but can you stop yelling at him? I’m not yelling I’m just trying to get him doing something. It sounded like you were yelling. You were yelling. Well he won’t listen to me. Well just leave it for now, I’m sure he’s tired right now, kids don’t have the same kind of energy as adults do. We did a lot of walking and activity. I think her blood pressure dropped a little, and she went back to whatever she was doing before, and I went downstairs and went to visit Teagan. It was a nice street, and a nice house — yes, I like my friends. It was only one story, and it wasn’t a new anymore, but the brick walls in front still had the same modern freshness, and inside it was always so meticulously clean, though they were so careful as to continually turn off lights, and so it was always dark. Like often, we went to his pantry and ate half the food there, sitting on the kitchen counters, catching up about everything. It was so nice to have a friend again. New friends can have more fun than old friends, perhaps, though there is nothing as recuperative or warming to be with an old friend when your both in good spirits. Who better to listen to me whine about the finals, or about Agnes, and I could sure wine about her. I needed to get some of that off my chest and there really might not have been anyone else I would have turned to. Mostly we laughed and reminisced about our humour, which was elementary at best, which makes sense considering that’s when we became friends. We talked about when school ended in Canada, and what we were going to do in the summer. I said I really wanted to go to Europe and he did too. We wondered if we were too young for a trip like that, and I said probably but that’s why it would be cool. If we needed to we could go with a tour group, I said, and we could just ditch the group whenever as long as we seemed like we had our wits about us. I told him we were probably going to Nationals, so who knew when our summer would start. We were going to meet up on thursday before I headed to Austin. When I got back home, the t.v. was on, but there was no one downstairs. I walked upstairs, and the t.v. was on in the master bedroom as well, they were both in their rooms, though it was only 6 30. I peeked into Allister’s room, and the lights were off, and he was just lying in bed. Hey, whatsup? Nothing. Okay I said. I walked over to our stepmom’s bedroom, and her lights were on, though she was lying in bed not doing anything as well. Hi Paige, what are you up to? Oh, nothing. Okay. Are you gone to bed now? Oh, I might get up later. I’ll have to think about it. Okay. Are you hungry? Oh all that breakfast you made I think were all full. I walked back downstairs, and sat on the couch, feeling a little befuddled, and most certainly hungry. 

*

 Those next few days, nothing much happened in the household, they were perversely inactive, and all I could surmise about it was what the heak was going on? Any eating was of something I made. Any excursions were of my volition. I think they were happy to have me there, in some pleasurable child-like surrender to being taken care of. In any case, on my fourth day there, early in the morning I put my bags in our suv, and very quickly made my way onto the road. It was only three and a half hours to Austin, so I would be there for the day. Driving across Texas, there wasn’t anywhere much to stop except the occasional family restaurant, or a Wendy’s or something similar. I packed some snacks, though I did stop for a quick bite to eat halfway as per tradition. Usually the trips were longer, and often the meals were a little unhealthier than this time, when I happened upon a Quizno’s, which did not please me tremendously, as I had gotten quite sick after eating there several years ago, and I avoid them generally. I texted to say I was on my way, and I got the very most enthusiastic though sort of I would admit unspecial reply. I guess I couldn’t just hop back in as if I hadn’t left, but we would of course try. It was raining when I started driving, but when I started to enter the Austin city limits, the sun was emerging, and the weather wasn’t any worse than seventeen degrees. It was a good city, with its undulating hills, it held more promise than Houston. I drove past the University, to the other side of downtown, near where the hotel was. No one was there when I got in. They said just to come meet them. I went into my room and lay down for a while. I had been thinking quite a lot preparing in the morning, driving here, and closing my eyes, without the movement of a vehicle, not trying to think for a few minutes, I felt a little refreshed, and it was half an hour before I felt like leaving and going out to face an exuberant happy mass of festival people. I wasn’t too into the music that day. There were some big acts, though a lot of smaller alternative ones that weren’t very distinguished. All I really wanted to see was the Shins, I guess they fit somewhere into or between those two categories. They were sitting on a hill, fairly far back from the stage. They weren’t looking for me. I walked to the end of the field before I turned towards them, coming up sort of in there peripheral vision. I had to say I’m here now before they realized I was there, and it was a little bit of a jarring homecoming, not only had I just arrived for the event, but I’d just arrived home to them for the first time in four months. Agnes and I hugged, and she kissed me lightly, and then I was hugging everyone, shrugging off questions so as to sit down and enjoy whatever the music was to try and not be annoyed by the atmosphere, hopefully it would grow on me. Agnes was telling me all about their happenings in the past few days, and what she had planned for the following few days, in the same manner as the previous days, as if there was no debating what exactly was going to happen. It was still the afternoon and I was talking with the guys as well, and it was starting to bother me how much Agnes was chatting with some baseball knucklehead. I was going to ask if he came up with us or with another set but that would be a little obvious. I think after a while, as the sun began to fall, we settled in and listened to the music, which in the form of another group, became mellower, and I felt so happy. Our bodies were really noticing the night air after all of the heat we had taken in from the sunshine. Walking home, a little bit before the rest of the crowd, mostly everyone hopped in a taxi, though Agnes and I had plans for a late dinner. Though we were just walking, and I said I wasn’t feeling very hungry. Oh, that was fun. Do you think every one had fun? Yes, I said. What about Irwin, I don’t think he likes music. No, he does. Well don’t just disagree with me. I’ll think about it and then I’ll disagree with you. She wasn’t impressed. We just walked in the quiet streets, the occasional group of loud people, a few big hills, which we braved a little slowly. How’s Lachlan? Who? That guy you told me about? Oh, that was a while ago. No you went on and on about him. I only mentioned him. Pretty sure you went on and on about him. Pretty sure I did not. Whatever. He’s good. His Dad is leaving the hospital. They didn’t think he would. Are they giving up. No, his condition is improving. Oh. Indeed. Did you listen to the cd’s i sent? I haven’t yet but I will. That was like two weeks ago though. That’s not very long. That’s forever. How am I supposed to be romantic without all of those ballads? You we’re never romantic anyways. I resent that. I resent you. No you don’t. No your right I don’t. Are we going to go for dinner. I don’t feel hungry anymore. I wasn’t listening when you said that earlier. But you remember me saying it? Ya weird. Well, how far to the hotel? It’s like so far. Fifteen minutes? Well not that long but so far still. Alright we’ll walk back to first and get a taxi. Back at the hotel, I said I had to go up to my own room for a sec, and then I’d come join her for a while. I only turned on one light and made my way over to the balcony. I felt a little empty inside, a small quavering in my body. My eyes were wide and sober, and I took in the city as best I could with the obstructed views… it was all a little wanting. Pretty, but a little wanting I would say. We had so much fun tonight, and I felt very good whenever I was with her. And we walked it must have been for half an hour, and there were years of memories that her presence swirled in me, it was all very sweet, it is wonderful, though I feel removed, and halfway through our walk that I guess didn’t really evolve into something more, I didn’t feel quite so connected with her anymore I thought, and it did occur to me that this could be one of the last times we ever see each other, though ostensibly, we might have went on together for many more years. Hey. I’m going to go back to my room, grab a few things. Alright. Just knock on the door. I went up in the elevator, used the card key, and went into the bathroom, and washed my face, brushed my teeth, thought about showering. I went into the bed area, and wanted to watch some of the highlights. I lay down with the volume on a medium level, and after a short while I fell asleep. When I woke up, I realized I was still in my room, and sort of remembered falling asleep. I showered and put on some new clothes. And went down stairs and looked at the buffet breakfast. It was okay, not great, so I walked across the street and grabbed some coffee’s and some bagels. I went up to Agnes’ room, and knocked on the door, a little later than we planned. Hey. Sorry, I fell asleep. That’s okay. I brought some food and stuff for you though. I’m actually really hungry. I think everyone else is in their rooms. Do you enjoy it? We had so much fun. You missed a lot of the good acts. We were there like all day. I saw who I wanted to, I wasn’t too interested in the other bands. It would have been nice to be with you anyways. We don’t have the same musical interests. Not really, I guess. I keep trying to get you interested in other stuff. Your music is hipsterish. You’re not a hipster. I thought you liked these things before. Kind of, I don’t mind them. I’m not going to change my musical tastes. I couldn’t if we tried. Just be satisfied that I’ve gone to these, and that we’ve spent time together. Who knows what’s going to happen now. Last night wasn’t good was it? Not really. Things aren’t great with family in Houston. I’m worried about Allister. I think we should be able to be okay even if there is something wrong with my family. I don’t think I’ll stay late today though. I have to make it home soon. I think you should as well. Yes. I should. Let’s go walk the capitol buildings, I’ve actually never been there either. Me neither. We walked through the lawn, the building looming above us. It is a nice building. I don’t even really want to go inside, though. It is nice from here. Let’s go inside. Another day. The weather is better here. It’s cooler. The people are healthier too. It’s an okay city. It’s up there with them. Maybe. I wonder if it will snow this year. I hope so. That would be so much fun. It never snows in Houston. Snow holds less appeal after you’ve been in Calgary for a while. Well, I wouldn’t know. I like this anyways. I hope it snows. Mhmm. Hey, do you ever put your phone away? Well I’m texting. That’s the problem. There is always someone else your talking too. You can text to if you want to. Whatever. I’m ready to do something else. Let’s visit some shops. I’ll buy you something. We sifted through the souvenir shops, then we got to some of the nicer stores, with purses and nice jackets. I’ll buy you something nice, just for this occasion. See anything you’d like to have? Mmm. I’ll keep looking. Sometimes she had something in her hands to feel the texture or try it on. She wasn’t looking at price tags. We went through a few stores. I want this. That looks like an animal. What are you an activist? It looks like an animal. It isn’t an animal. Whatever. This is what I want. Can I see it? It was nice. Okay, it’s yours, Agnes. Then I looked at the price tag. I sighed as I walked to the register. Well, I’m pretty much ready to go home now. This has been fun. I missed you. Don’t go. Let’s stay in the room and you can nap with me. It’s better that I just drive now. If you come back a little earlier, we’ll see each other. I’ll try. But I’m telling you, you should stay now. I should start driving now. See you soon, Agnes. Back in Houston, I spent my last day with Teagan. What do you think you’re going to do next year? I thought I was going to play hockey for a year, but I’ve been thinking differently the last while. For someone like me, hockey doesn’t seem like a good use of energy and time anymore. Were not kids, were mostly kids, but our adult years are pulling us up to our proper stages. What the hell does that mean? I’m being a little stiff. But school is my goal, it’s just a question of if I’ll play hockey. When I’m there, I don’t think I want hockey to be my main focus. I want school to be my main focus. I would say don’t worry about it too much. Just enjoy it for now. It is really stressful with scouts in the buildings, and then they bring in TV cameras and national audiences. You should feel my heart rate before we step on the ice sometimes. It disappears into playing heart rate, but all the nervousness is hard to get rid of, and my hands are almost jittery, and there are the worst feelings in my stomach, I get migraines after the games, and it just drains my energy so that getting undressed, and packing the bus is something that I am astonished I ever accomplish it. You should definitely go to school. Your too smart. And the players are getting bigger as your moving up. You already have two concussions. One more and I don’t think I can play anymore. Yea I think that’s right. Maybe, it depends on the severity.. I don’t want to think about it at all. So you hated this past weekend right? I didn’t hate it. I wish it could have been more fun, because it’s the only time I’ve been here, will be for a while. It would have been better if you were there. I don’t like that group of people. We’re definitely not the same set. Ahh so what? You know we don’t get along. They don’t like me. I don’t really have a problem with all of them. No, it’s okay. I don’t like them either. That’s not true. No but I like you better. You like me better than anyone. This is true. I won’t tell Agnes. I’ll tell you myself. Love you too. Seriously, did you fight? Honestly, we fought a lot. I just kept making jokes, but we fought constantly. That’s not good. No, it’s not. Are you through? I was pretty sure so after the first night I was there, but you know I miss here, and I want things to work, but I think we both have new lives now. We all used to have the same one, now there’s several. Ya. Come back more often. Yea. Home was deathly quiet. I packed my things and considered getting an earlier flight, but I hung around until my flight in the morning, getting Allister going, having some breakfast with him, then leaving without much fuss, the step mum still asleep in her room with the blood red walls. I felt pretty energized in sitting in the airport. Even if there is something of a slurred quality to Southern speech, it is a bit musical, and full of the sun, and there were lots of people around from all over, that looked healthy and were headed to more beautiful cities. Sometimes being wakeful and calm is the best prelude to sleep; being over-tired I can never slip into my dreams. The whole flight was through and I was at YVR trying to get out of there and driving home and having lunch with dad and doing some free-reading before school started again, lugging my hockey bag into the car again the next morning. It was different feeling to be there now, because now everyone knew who I was in some sort of one-way intimacy. Class went on just like before, a new unit here and there, and I monitored its passing second by second, time relentlessly, hour by hour, ending each class, vanquishing the school day, pushing forward into the next day, our lives being run clockwise. After the day I was talking, gradually making my way to the rink, walking to the parking lot, and Maisie was waiting for someone in the horseshoe. She was on a bench by herself, her phone in her hand, anxious for a phone call or a text message, and I sat with her, she smiled reservedly, knowingly of at least some of what had happened during my winter-break. I was just home, she said. Some family was visiting from Ontario, so there were people visiting or talking and stuff all the time. I think we broke up. Really? aww. Whatever. That’s coarse. Ya it sucks. Indeed. You look very nice today. Texan girls don’t dress so sharply. And they’re bodies aren’t as enveloping. What does that mean? I’ll let you know when I’m sure what it means. They don’t have legs like you do, for one thing. Your very brave to be wearing shorts in this weather. So I heard about the hockey. I’m sorry. It’s okay. At least we made the finals. I don’t know. Ya. I don’t really want to go to practice today, it will make me feel down to see everyone so soon. I could use more time away from the ice. Even if we had one, it’s never been like this were I just play games all the freaking time. Well we can hang out tomorrow if you need to take your mind off things. Okay. I better go to practice, the pain I have to endure will be multiplied if I’m late. Wouldn’t want that to happen. Glad someone cares. Yup. K see ya. Bye. It was quiet at first in the dressing room. Though once everyone was there, it was hard to laugh and smile like usual. When we got on the ice, the coaches were a little somber. The head coach wanted to watch this one from the stands, he was a little emotional I guess. It was more of a skills practice, fine-tuning some things we could have used a bit more of during crunch time if you will, a little more finish and a lot more grit and hustle. I think once we got going, my energy levels were good, though I couldn’t help the rising feeling of why was this all worth it, why were we doing it, and I continually fought my mind, resisting impulses in my body that said to slow down or to cut corners. Practice felt like that for weeks. Then our regular season became something worthwhile in itself, keeping the streak alive something to get motivated about. Despite the enormous time commitments, the sport was starting to slide into the background of my life. Practice was routine, it was a well-thought out routine, but I didn’t have to think about the routine anymore and even pregame prep was a routine, and it was monotonous and hard to get through when all the good rewards lay well ahead yet in the future. The next day at lunch I found Maisie though she was heading off with some friends. Don’t come with, we’ll get together later, she told me. And we met up after school, past the soccer fields where there’s a table, but I wanted to sit in the grass. We talked a little bit about that day and then about the last time we were together. Are we just friends still? I said it quietly, and she said yes. Yes? That’s what I say. So we can spend time together next weekend and it’s not going to be awkward? Don’t think so, unless you make it so. You are a little strange. You mean like magical? Maybe but no mostly just strange. Your making this up. You’ll just have to find out by some means of your own. So wait, you’re worried about your brother? Yes. But you said everything seemed fine, except that your step-mother has crazy yelling moments and she doesn’t cook. Mhmm. Well everyone has a few problems with their parents, right? Well, it’s not just that. He doesn’t talk with her, and he wouldn’t really open up with her, and I’m not sure if he’s talking to anyone. I think I worry it might not be good for his development if there’s no person to support him in his life. He needs someone to talk to you think? I guess you could put it that way, if you must. Do you miss him? Yea. I’m sure everything will be fine. He’s still really young. You don’t want to expect too much from him. Well maybe that’s the problem is I expect the world from him. Or do I mean of him? Just go back in the summer. Stay here with us. Well I think if I left Iain, or someone somewhere… would have a stroke. See, you can’t leave, even if you wanted to. We talked a while longer, how well did we know each other yet? Then it was around dusk, the days held short by the winter. She had to go help her mom with things, we got up from the grass, and she started walking towards the horseshoe again. Maisie, I called her name, and she came back. She came in close as if we were going to hug but we both went for the kiss. Then she ran off again, over the fields. My car was in the other direction. At lunches, sometimes I would sit with Ellis, and we’d talk about our classes, and then when we were finished eating we would walk around the school, talking to whoever. Usually, we would find Gary and Isaak, and got our bags from the dungeon. I don’t think it had anything to do with Harry Potter. There were lots of things written on the wall in the dungeon, though. It was kind of scary down there, and I preferred not going in there alone, especially if we were to get stuck in there. We always put our bags right in the corner, so that no one messed with it, so that if someone went in there, they would be unlikely to go through our stuff. Hey Ellis, when is the bus coming? Another five minutes. Are you going with us, or are you getting a ride again? I’m going to go with you this time. Cool. The bus was already there, when we walked into the horseshoe, lunch was almost over. The girls were already on the bus, and they were talking about their boyfriends, laughing, and being rambunctious already. We sat on the curb for a while. Think we’ll get on the ice early today? Probably. Usually on thursdays the ice is free beforehand. I’ve already taped my sticks too. I haven’t but I’ll tape them quickly. Sometimes I take fifteen minutes to tape untape them, tape them, wax them. I want them to be perfect. I think it is a bad habit from games, because we have so much time before them. I’ll go quickly today. We can probably scrimmage beforehand, just us and Gary and Issak. Mr. Hayes was doing a headcount on the bus, so we got on, and it left for the rink. When we got there, we went through the double doors, and we were on the red rink again. Usually I would visit the pro-shop, but I the ice was free and we were going to skate right away today. The ice time wasn’t very hard that day. Isaak and Gary were really good skaters, they didn’t score much though. If I didn’t pair up with Spelling, then I would pair up with Ellis, and we scored all the time. It was good for the confidence. Some of the goalies weren’t so good, though Luca was playing Jr. A, and Lee was always about as good as he was. Lee, Issak and Gary all played on the same midget team, along with Erick and Kyler, Sometimes, Mr. Hayes brought his son to play with us. That was probably why he went so easy today. Afterwards, when Paul and I were driving to BWC, and he was eating slices of pizza for energy, and I was eating sandwiches, and then Iain had us skating for another hour and a half, I was appreciative of this. I think you could see players improving over the year. We were getting better at the dry land too. Mostly at soccer. Those were probably the most fun. Whenever we had breaks from drills, we would be doing free-kicks. I always went top corner, sometimes I hit it. The hacky-sack games were still pretty difficult. I even practiced those at home, so I wouldn’t embarrass myself. The drills were tiring. We were always doing squats, lunges. One foot on top of a bench, on platforms, sprints and acceleration drills, crossovers and jumps. In school, we all had classes together. I was the only one that really participated, read literature. at least in my year. They were all fairly smart, Vancouver is a fairly intelligent place. When it wasn’t raining it was a beautiful city, though it rained most of that winter. Driving the streets everything was grey. The mountains and the water still had some allure, not yielding entirely their blues and greens. The season kept going well, there wasn’t any other team that was up to our level.