Icing (7 page)

Mark and Kyle eventually got a moment to catch up on the previous month’s events.  Mark was in Allegheny which was a pretty spot tucked away in Northwestern PA.  Kyle went through with his Dad on a college tour swing.  It was serene and only two hours away but with no hockey program it was not among his choices.  The entire town population was less than UMass alone.  It was great for Mark.  He had decided to study international politics with a minor in Spanish.  He was nearly fluent because he had an adopted sister from Mexico.  His folks insisted she stay true to her ethnic heritage which resulted in his entire family being bi-lingual.   Kyle had reason to believe he would be casting a ballot for Mark someday. 

“Sounds like you’re living the life in Amherst.  Good for you man.  Good things are deserved.  Are you happy, don’t mean to sound all mental but you seem – I don’t know.  If you have something going on you know where to come.”

“Beer?”

That seemed to be replacing vitamin enhanced water in the basement.  Kyle was unable to partake due to his recent experience with the stuff.

“No – I have pre-season games and practices coming up.  I think I’ll lay off the beer for now”

“No prob.  My Mom brought a couple of six packs.  She would rather have me drink here than elsewhere.”

“Your Mom is great.  Mine has Cancer Mark.”

“Oh, sorry.  I had no clue.  How long has this been going on?”

“September I think.  A couple of hours for me.”

Kyle laid out what he knew.  It was a story he would re tell to a lot of people.  The words were a part of him now.  He finished, speaking expecting more sorry and pity.  He was alone in his confusion, left by himself to find his way.  Things were different.  It began a road for Kyle.  One with people who really gave a shit and had experience in dealing with heartache and advice – a lot of that.

“Yeah, when my Mom had a mastectomy I felt helpless and disoriented.  I needed someone to reach out to.  It was my Aunt who had an instinct.  She let me open up to her and provided unbelievable support.  She died of breast cancer herself this past summer.  You need to find that person – your true North.

“Mark, why am I just hearing this now?  You’re Mom? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was 14 and I thought it was better kept as some sort of secret.  You weren’t supposed to talk about breasts and death.  It was personal.  I’ve been there Kyle. If you need me at any-time I’m here for you.  I can hitch a ride back here or come all the way to UMass.  Don’t be afraid to ask for help.  Keep making Mrs. C proud.”

Crying, Kyle reached out and embraced Mark.  He breathed – it had been a couple of hours. 

“Hey guys. I’m gonna bounce.  I’ll be in town more often so I’ll call when I’m around.  No more tats Nelson – we get it.  Christmas will be longer.  No drop-outs yet so we must be doing something right?”

Kyle had a peaceful jaunt on his journey back to the house.  Home was different now but it’s all part of it.  He was ready to face what the future held.  He has been blessed with an easy road up until now and he had what it took to be the man his parents raised him to be.  Was there a choice?  He thought of Coach who knew he was sick Last week but expected him to practice.  Focus, what he had learned in hockey was necessary as his Mom struggled.

The Caldwell’s gathered together in their cozy nest for the rest of the weekend.  Drawing on each other for strength and humor.  They were a team.

“Mr. Cohen.  Good to see you man.  You look fat.  What happened to keeping up with the puck?  You said you would. Now it looks like you could use the work-out.  Seconds on the potatoes and pie?”

“Thanks Kyle.  I’ve been busy with studying and shit.  That is why we’re here?  Last I checked it hadn’t changed.”

“Really Tru, it’s great to see you back.  I still plan to hear where the hell you disappeared to the other night.  Not nice to keep secrets from your roommate.”

“Whatever.  Want to go studying to the library tonight.”

“Yeah, I have a game on Friday night.  It’s pre-season but I’d love to have a fan out there.”

“Where else would I be?”

****

Across campus Taryn was filling the frig with leftovers sent by her Mom.  There was a lot of stuffing and some coveted apple pie.  She had a bag of sweets from the café she obtained when she stopped in for a visit.  She had enough to share with the entire first floor.  Blueberry bagels set aside for herself.

Hellos were exchanged by all.  They had not been gone long but missed their new friends.  It was chatty and not good a good atmosphere for prepping for tomorrows history of Jazz refresher quiz.  It didn’t count for much but Taryn was a perfectionist and didn’t want to seem otherwise.  She would hit the library.

She entered and immediately hit the eleventh floor.  It was a stack floor with narrow book isles running from floor to ceiling with a study carrel pushed against the end of each one.  They held a panoramic glimpse of the campus below and the surrounding Berkshire Mountains.  The sky usually held clouds but it wasn’t cloudy.  Hopeful blue or the black of night was always peeking through – an optimistic look of the surroundings.  There was a monitor at a desk close to the elevator.  He or she was likely a library sciences major fulfilling a work-study commitment.  Their resources rarely needed they were like sentinels.  Taryn liked the silence most of all.  No One just ended up on the eleventh floor.  It was a secret spot of hers.  Phone set on vibrate she was set to find out what this Miles Davis was all about.  Tomorrow’s jazz quiz would be a breeze.

Kyle took his usual seat on the first level with Di, Rosemary and this time they were joined by Stewie from hockey.  He was tan due to his recent trip down to Florida to spend Thanksgiving with his Mom.  He was involved in writing a psychology paper.  His grades were above average and he was working hard to keep them that way.  He had class.  You would think it all came easy to him but he had obstacles to overcome like everyone else.  He was one of the people often rooted for to make it far and it was suspected he would.

Kyle was looking at numbers again.  He was not a natural and yearned to find his niche academically.  His Dad always told him that an NHL career presented a slim chance.  A diploma would offer security and a career beyond the ice.  He still had to plow through this calculus thing.  The girls were there to help him.  They couldn’t help his wandering eye though.  Kyle gazed around and guessed their stories.  A longer glance was directed at the women.  Sometimes they noticed.  He liked when they were lost in their own world.  He could turn them into anyone he wanted them to be.

Taryn decided to take a break from the solitude and Miles Davis.  She would go down to the meat market on the first level and say hi to Maryann and Kim.  She deserved a break and knew they would have some candy.  She needed a little sugar rush.  She was down the elevator in her jeans and Irish knit sweater, something her parents picked up while visiting the British Isles last summer.  It was winter now and time to pull out her warm stuff.  Her hair was pulled up and secured by a pencil.  She always had a lipstick or balm in her pocket and treated her lips with a quick swipe.  She looked ready for the runway and could have cared less.

She saw Maryann. On her way to the table she laid eyes on the athletic guy from months ago.  Passing him was necessary to get to Maryann so she plowed on.  Kyle laid eyes on Taryn.  He thought she was approaching him.  The soles of his feet and palms of his hands were dewy.  He smiled and the gesture was returned.  She didn’t stop and he didn’t follow.

****

4:30 and he was up and out the door.  By now no alarm was necessary.  He saw the twins and they joined him on the now familiar walk to the rink.  They found the atmosphere in the locker room intense with a renewed sense of urgency.  They would hit the ice right away and warm up before scrimmage began.  Kyle had worked hard on his power.  Speed was one thing but power was something else.  It made all of the difference in hockey. Short bursts of power were asked to accommodate the quickly changing shifts.  The wind sprints both on and off the ice had paid off.  The hours in the weight room showed as well.

Kyle spent a lot of the time on the bench.  It was expected as a freshman on a fairly deep club.  He had worthy competition for ice time with Patrick, Stewie and the twins.  Coach made sure no one grew cob webs waiting for his time.  Fresh legs mattered and he wanted to make sure we all got our chance to play for the scouts.  He was good this way but a win was always foremost in his mind. There was no pass or pity offered.  They were men and that type of treatment was for pee wee hockey.

Coach was fair and dignified.  He demanded his players to be responsible men.  Flip the coin and you could see that he would tie himself in knots to help anyone of “his boys”.  Any good father followed this agenda.

“Coach.  Can I have a minute?” Kyle stopped him in the hallway on the way back to the locker room.

“Caldwell.  Feeling better?”  He winked.

“Yeah great.  I will just come out and say it.  My Mom is sick.  Cancer.  I’m only telling you cuz I’m not sure what this might do to my schedule.  I don’t plan on ….”

“Don’t say another word.  Its life, welcome to it.  I’m sorry about this Kyle.  We are your team, your family. We will provide support.  It starts with me and I’ve been there.  I can offer you what I can.  Let’s just take it one step at a time. You will find out that you have made friends both on and off the ice.  Some have been in your shoes and some not.  Keep me posted.  Anything you need from me now?”

“No coach.  Thank you.  See you this afternoon.”

The next morning a sapling was delivered to the Caldwell home on Admiral Road.  It was the Massachusetts state tree – an Elm.  The card read “To Mrs. C…….Love, the Team.”

Kyle was off to play student with the classes beginning in just over an hour.  He had time to grab some breakfast before the DC closed.  He had some egg casserole, meat and a bowl of cereal.  He grabbed a couple of bananas for the road, breaking the rules but everyone did it.  That is what back-packs were for.  Laptops were increasingly taking the place of books which made more room for usurped goodies.

He ended up in Geography where Patrick joined him.  Neither had a keen interest in the subject but it added 3 credits to the piggy bank.  It wasn’t all bad.  They learned about the genesis of the Earth and how it has evolved.  It sure took a long time and this in itself was interesting.  It made a person feel small, and less relevant in the grand scheme of things.  Kyle thought it would make him better at earning the blue slice of pie in Trivial Pursuit.   Patrick added that the game of T.P. was created by a Canadian.  Hockey, it was inescapable.

Back at the arena for practice.  Kyle was assigned number 12.  It held no specific meaning to him but he started to think of a few.  It would make for better stories.  December was the 12
th
month and he liked Christmas and Bree’s birthday was the 27
th
.  He loved bagels and doughnuts and they often came by the dozen until the bakers dozen ruined it all by adding number 13.  Important was former Buffalo Bills Quarterback Jim Kelly was number 12.  He liked little bits of information like this.  He now had reason to be proud of his jersey number.

They had chosen their team captain, Sean.  He was a junior heavily considered to be drafted in the second round.  He would be one of the rare guys who made it to the NHL.  He hailed from the Toronto area and they called him Deker.  The captain was the unofficial team leader and the only one able to approach the referees to debate a call.  He was voted in by the players and coaching staff and the role suited him. Dom would have gotten Kyles vote but he was partial and goalies don’t qualify.

There were two Assistant Captains who would step into the official role if the captain was off the ice.  Con was one of them.  He earned everyone’s trust both on and off the ice.  He wore the “A” proudly.  The other voted in was Matt.  He was a stand-up guy from Michigan.

Four more days until they faced off against Lowell.  It was at their house about 80 miles east towards Boston.  Close enough so Truman and a good number of Mass Attack fans would be in attendance.  They were the Minutemen, but the nickname was given a nick name.

Kyle was focused on the upcoming game but thoughts of his Mom were ever-present. He performed numerous internet searches and visited all the usual medical sites.  He knew them to create unnecessary fear and hypochondria.  He wasn’t immune to this and self- diagnosed his head aches to be brain tumors.  It could not be linked to being hit in the head with a frozen puck.  It was a slippery slope and he had to keep his mind on why he was researching this stuff.  He looked into alternative medicines and treatments.  A lot of them were worth a try and made sense.  She might benefit from a little meditation. 

It all circled back to more surgery and chemotherapy.  It made no sense that something producing heartless side effects may save her life.  Questions remained and he did not like the answers.  How could this happen to a lady like Mrs. Caldwell?  To her credit she never had a “why me” moment and her positive attitude gave proof that she would not.

****

Taryn was preparing to cross another item off her list – find a voice coach.  She was taking History of Jazz and had developed a healthy rapport with Professor Willer. It seemed a good place to begin.  She was directed towards classical but he may know someone within the department who could help.  Taryn was aware that she could get help when needed based on her appearance.  Part of her charm was that she was not reliant on it.  She checked Professor Willer’s office hours and made her way to his office across campus.