Icing Page 4

  Kyle walked into the locker room. The usual suspects were present. They had shared the joy of dry land workouts together. They had to remain strong and fast off the ice to be 100% when they hit it. Sprints, long runs, medicine ball toss, even a little yoga – helps with flexibility I guess. Coach would try anything to prepare us. It was so much more than fitness training they were creating a brotherhood. A diverse set of guys with hockey dreams.

  Con was a defenseman from a boarding school or academy as they called it. An imposing figure. He was about 6’ 4” and filled a door frame. His parents sent him there because they had the money to do so. His size belied his gentle spirit and he hated being sent away as opposed to spending his youth sailing the waters around his family home in Ipswich. He was just a kid and sold to school before he could even drive. He dreamed of hockey and it got him through. Kyle liked the gentle giant. Glad he was playing with him, not against him.

  Patrick was a junior college transfer. He had a handbook of regulations from junior college, UMass and the NCAA. Kyle never really understood all of the hoops Pat had to jump through. He was hard working. He knew he was fortunate to be where he was and wasn’t going to let a chance at the NHL slip away. He was a forward like Kyle, both left wingers so they would compete for ice time. He was a worthy opponent and a friend. He was from New Hampshire somewhere, didn’t matter.

  Dom was a junior. He was a goalie or goal tender. Don’t call him a keeper or minder - this isn’t a soccer field. His parents had him on skates before he could walk and it showed. He was highly suspected to jump to the pros because he was definitely on their radar. Another year of college was a gift to the team and kept his mom’s hope alive that he would be the first in the family to graduate from college. He was a Midwestern farm boy grew up watching the Blues. He would make his money. Waiting was a risk but he felt comfortable in Amherst.

  Then there were Danny and Rick. They were twins from Utica NY. Rick was fast on his skates and his brother was surgeon like with his stick. They were journey men looking for their home. They were well travelled kids who gave it a shot trying to get noticed. They decided on College because they needed a place to grow both athletically and educationally. Both guys were smart. They had dreams of med school and pursuits of that nature. It could be guessed that they were following someone else’s dream until now.

  Stewie was the ladies’ man. He was a center from Florida. Kyle was confused by this one – a well- manicured boy from a warm climate. He did not present himself as tough enough for the ice. With skates on and a stick in hand he disproved his doubters. His mom was a Russian ice princess who was granted asylum here so she could twirl around the ice. It could be debated who was more protective of the other, him or her. It had not been easy to get to Amherst. Do the math to figure out she was a child herself when Stewie came along. He was loyal to the core.

  “Welcome ladies. Glad you could join us. We get going at five sharp. We are not here for coffee talk. Schedule that on your own time. Laced up and ready to work your asses off. I can’t allow ½ hour to get prepped and prettied up. I’m in charge and you will want to be on my good side. Miss practice time and you encounter decreased ice time when it matters. Yes, grades matter keep them up or I hear it and it’s out of my hands. Questions? Good.”

  Coach was a man of few words but the ones spoken were vital. He held our futures as hockey players in his hands. It was his show. Like it or leave. Kyle was deeply entrenched in studying war and the military and this was a little like it.

  Every ounce of focus was required in Division I hockey, they were competing with talent from the minor leagues and Canada. They all aimed for the same target and it was getting smaller and farther away. UMass was a good school but not one of the power house schools that drew scouts early. They were lucky men, while chasing the dream they would earn a diploma and a lot of lessons.

  ****

  Taryn diligently did some soul searching. She loved field hockey and it was great to be attending a University with a respective program. She was not in Concord anymore. She was a star there because she was quick and crafty. It was also a social thing. She saw the team practicing and quickly realized she would not even stand a chance as a walk-on, not a chance. It would suffice to be a fan in the stands and she would be open to some sort of intramural option. She had a beautiful vocal gift and she would follow it. She loved to run and Amherst was home to a lot of trails. Give and take. Lesson learned from her Dad was put to good use.

  Taryn was taking a lot of the necessary classes to earn a BA in music history. It would open up her selections later on to focus on vocal performance. She had a piano background which bolstered any singing career. She would find some time to keep those skills sharp. There were plenty of classrooms with pianos that she could borrow. It was officially trespassing but she had friends in high places. A custodian could become a friend…….Taryn was resourceful.

  On her to-do list was obtaining a personal voice coach. She did an internet search and picked through some names. She would visit professors she knew to be approachable. There must be grad students qualified and willing to make a few bucks.

  Tim found her on the student union steps jotting down her list. It was a perfect fall day, one of the last before mid-term exams and Thanksgiving break.

  “Hi Taryn. Can I join you?”

  “Yeah I’m just enjoying the day while it winds down. I have a bad habit of writing down this stuff. Feels more certain when I do it with paper and pen. I know my phone is made to handle it all, but I like to see at it dog eared on my desk with tasks scribbled out. Someday I’ll catch up with technology.”

  “Don’t you dare Taryn. It suits you. Seeing pen and paper in hand is a rarity. You’re unique!”

  “Thanks Tim. Are you set to go home to Jersey?”

  “No. I’m going to the Big Apple to visit my brother. My mom will have a houseful at home with my oldest brother and grandkids. I can’t leave my other brother alone for the holiday and he has to work on Friday. It will be an adventure!”

  “Tim my dear. I try but I can’t keep track of all your brothers. I want to meet your Mom. She did a good job with all of you boys.”

  “Yeah. We were a handful. Five boys and no husband. We do our best to make her proud. Do you think it’s a sin to tell my Mom I attend mass every Sunday?”

  “Tim - you don’t. Whatever, you’re going straight to hell”

  They exploded and walked together to dinner. Tim could always provide levity when needed. You could tell he was raised by a woman because he sure knew how to treat one. His Dad died before he was born. He seemed to fit the role of big brother, but maybe he was just being the father he wished he had.

  ****

  “Are you alive Kyle? I haven’t seen you in about a month. I get an occasional look at you in class but you come late and leave first. Are you avoiding me Kyle? Truman smiled.

  “It has been the toughest month of my life. I have practice tomorrow and I’m back on Monday. Don’t call me at home I’ll be sleeping. I’ll see you in March.”

  “Really dude. I need you to tag along with me tonight. I need my man by my side. Protection and shit like that. Let’s blow off a little steam. We will make the last bus home. I’ll have you in bed before one. I promise.”

  “Off campus party. I just can’t do it Tru.”

  “Kyle, you’ve gotta come out. Maybe you will see the hot blond. It’s love……..remember?

  “Fuck you Truman. I haven’t given her a thought since that night.” Kyle lied.

  “Consider it a favor. The boys of 2012 hitting the town. You owe me one.”

  “I don’t remember owing you anything.”

  “Give me a minute. I’ll come up with something. Well maybe not, but it sounded good.”

  “Tru”

  “Please?”

  “Give me 15 minutes. Don’t ever mention the blond again.”

  “Ouch – sensitive. O.K. thanks Kyle.”

  They hopped on the b
us to the apartment complex on the outskirts of town. Off-campus keg parties were strictly advertised by word of mouth. Invitations did not go out for these underage drinking soirees, they were based on vague tales. It was common to find nothing at all or you might luck out finding an affair thrown by some trust fund kid. Lots of free beer if you came upon the latter. This one was based on something Tru heard of at his stock trading club. It was a Wallstreet fantasy league preparing for the real thing. They concentrated and truly believed they had hit it big if their portfolio was fat. It was said that these guys racked up serious credit card debt as the lines between the game and real life blurred. Kyle had no time for the folly and kept an eye Tru.

  A crowd was filling the hallway and the stairs leading to the second floor accommodation. Students poured on to the lawn, red cups in hand filled with the amber brew that appeared to be flowing freely. It was only assumed being that the attendees were pleased and certainly relaxed.

  Truman and Kyle fell in line. One cup of beer would not throw Kyle off the course of good reason. He had a couple of days to rest after tomorrows practice. Mark’s basement at home would be skipped in exchange for long naps in front of the fireplace. His daze was interrupted when he was pushed ahead to the beer tap. He pulled. He filled. He drank. He pulled. He filled. He drank.

  “Take it easy Kyle. The locals are sure to make a call any minute and we’ll be headed back to campus. Don’t waste the buzz man, you’ve got early practice.

  “You can’t change your tune now Tru. This is just what I needed.”

  Kyle had been tipsy in the past off a beer or glass of wine but he was charting untested waters. He was ripe to get really drunk. Truman had never seen him like this. Kyle was fiery. In went the beer and out came the stress.

  “Con man, what are you doing here? Hey! We have practice in the morning are you going?”

  Con from the team was there and happy to see Kyle. He realized it was a rare night out for his buddy. Con was a big guy and he sensed Kyle could use his kind of presence just like he needed on the ice.

  “Hi Kyle. What kind of question is that? I didn’t know it was optional. Of course I’ll be there. It’s a little past my bed time but I’ll present.”

  “Man I’m getting a little drunk. Make sure you get be on the last bus outa here.”

  Mayhem ensued and Con lost Kyle. Truman had disappeared. Kyle was a good guy with manners especially when it came to women. He wasn’t often in a situation where his strict moral code, so delicately laid out by his Dad would be challenged. He was inebriated and so were the girls. A red head kissed Kyle hard and sloppy. Not gentle like Janey in high school nor like he imagined the blond would kiss. Kyle was dizzy and the red head was unbuttoning his shirt. That was about all he remembered until the walk home. The last bus puffed by as the girl was leading him inside although he didn’t resist, at least he thought that was the case.

  Con was a superb defender on the ice and handled his job just as well on dry land. He found his friend shirtless and disoriented in the kitchen. He was shoeless. Kyle looked pathetic and lost. Con threw his arm around his friend’s waist and escorted him out the door and down the stairs. They stood in the courtyard. It was a three mile walk back to Kennedy 2012. They walked with a few stops to extract the juice from Kyle’s belly.

  They were back at about two with only three hours until the whistle blew. Truman was MIA so Con bunked on top. Kyle was put on the bottom berth – closer to the toilet, but he most likely wouldn’t make it that far.

  Con would be friend for life – a brother.

  Cold rag thrown over his head like a shroud Con woke him up. Tru had made it back and there was no time to hear his tale.

  “Let’s see what you’re made of Caldwell. Your eyes tell the story. Coach will see and smell last night on you. No excuses – they’re undignified.”

  “Tell coach I’m sick.”

  “Somewhere, somehow he’ll find the truth. Don’t be a pussy.”

  They were out the door. It was dark and the campus was a ghost town as most of the kids were on their journey back home. Practices were rare and optional for some athletes on this Wednesday morning but hockey followed a different calendar. Con and Kyle sprinted across the fields and into Mullins.

  “You O.K.?”

  “No.” Kyle sputtered. The bathroom was cold and very fluorescent. He ran into a stall and puked. Nothing left but some bile.

  He stepped tentatively onto the ice. He fell into formation, stick in hand, with the addition of training weights. Every puck to stick contact initiated a resounding crack immediately felt by his tender head. He didn’t see 100% and balance was tentative. Coach stood before Kyle.

  “Last night slow you down a bit Caldwell.” His comment was joined by sinister laughter. He seemed maniacally pleased that Kyle was struggling. ”Every freshman learns his lesson. I get worried if they don’t. Humbling isn’t it? Remember this feeling – it’s all part of it. “

  That was it. Kyle finished the workout and limped back to 2012. What the hell happened to the red head? It was a mystery that’s ending would never be told much less remembered. He caught a shower and waited for his Dad under the security of his brown and yellow sheets.

  Kyle welcomed his father. He carried a bag of laundry out to the waiting blue sedan. He was quiet and his Dad let him be this way. Mr. Caldwell joyfully drove west and tapped away on the steering wheel with his college ring. Kyle would never forget the joyful knocking as his father listed to bad radio music. His head felt every sound. His Dad knew. He too had experienced what his son was going through. It was a rite of passage and the lesson was learned.

  ****

  Thanksgiving in Concord was planned to follow the same customs as it had in years before. Mrs. Wright was in charge, grandparents, Josh, Taryn and Dad in attendance. Brett was always welcome. He was not the official boyfriend anymore but he was considered a part of the family, if only by habit. He passed on dinner this year. He and Taryn held each other in high esteem and would always share sweet youthful memories.

  The table was perfectly set. A tradition performed the evening before. They would have a rare pizza night out. Preparations were underway in the kitchen and dinner on Wednesday could not accommodate them. It was a lighthearted reunion out for the Wright family. They had a round of sodas and a couple of large pies, one veggie and one meat. None were vegetarians but they ordered both for variety. The meat always disappeared first and the veggie next.

  “T, I see you took my advice. No pregnant belly. Good girl.”

  “Josh – haven’t changed a bit. You are a healthy teeny bopper with a one track mind. Keep an eye on this one Dad.”

  “Tell us a story T. What kind of outrageous stuff did you do? Is your roommate cool? We want details and no lying. Did you have sex or anything?”

  “Stop Josh. Like I would share details you – my little brother. No really Dad I have been too busy for shit like that. I have tons of questions. Maybe we can go for a run tomorrow before dinner and I could bounce some ideas off of you. I’m really focused on music and I have a lot of stuff to figure out. O.K?”

  “Sure, Taryn.”

  Before he spoke further Mrs. Wright reminded everyone that dinner was at four sharp. Television off and phones too. Everyone was to be showered and wearing appropriate attire. The Wrights were not among the majority with a dress code at a family dinner.

  Dinner on Thursday went off without a hitch. The side dishes were superb. Taryn liked the stuffing best with extra gravy. It was great leftover too – she liked it cold. Three different kinds of pie were served; pecan, pumpkin and deep dish apple. It was nice and comforting despite all of Mrs. Wright’s rules.

  The next morning Taryn and her Dad had time to catch up. They slept in too late on Thursday morning to go for their scheduled run and subbed in a walk at Walden Pond instead. Air crisp and warranting a warm jacket they strolled arm and arm down the trail.

  “So Dad, mmmmm, this feels awesome. I missed y
ou most of all. My RA. Tim listens to me babble and has good feedback but there’s no one like you.”

  “Glad you have Tim. Is there anything…..well you know?

  “Absolutely not. No. He loves women and he’s cute in a way but it’s platonic. I never had a good male friend. It’s a good fit. He looks out for me and the other women on the first floor.”

  “Good. Any ideas about a major?”

  “I think about it a lot Dad. The classes right now are basic requirements. I’m doing well – probably going to get about a 3.5. Don’t really care for human anatomy but it satisfies an E core so I’m glad to get it over with. I’m taking entry level entomology in the spring to keep the science classes interesting.”

  “Um Taryn, you hate bugs.”

  “Yeah I know. They call them insects by the way.”

  “O.K. then, that makes all the difference in the world.” He laughed.

  “I was thinking about music history. It’s a good direction for me and I can keep an eye on vocals because I will become a part of the music department. The history part will make it a more relevant when I graduate. Who knows how far my voice will take me. It’s a dream to get long term success. I can hear the whispers now…she can sing, but not much else.”

  “Long term? Sounds like my baby is growing up. You’ve done your research. Will you get the opportunity to perform? You don’t want to lose that ability and you project confidence now. It can slip away if it’s not practiced.”

  “Don’t worry Dad I plan to keep that going. The options are endless.”