Power Play (9 page)

I
shifted uneasily in my seat. Coach sat beside me in the booth. Meetings with principals were never happy occasions, and even though it was summer and we were in a restaurant and the guy was dressed in shorts, I didn’t expect this one to be any different. The principal had already sat down with Josh and Jake, and I had no illusions that Coach was saving the best for last. Josh had said it was “no sweat” when he came out, but Coach had told me that he was a really good student. Apparently he was as much a golden boy off the ice as he was on it. Another reason to dislike him.

In some ways it would have been better if I had gone before Jake. The principal must have asked him about his face. It had stopped bleeding hours earlier, during the car
ride here, but it still looked like somebody had mugged him. Maybe the principal hadn’t asked, or maybe Jake had actually kept his mouth shut about how it happened. Actually, judging from the silent treatment Jake had given me on the five-hour car ride, the only chance of him keeping quiet was if he was afraid of me. He had
reason
to be afraid of me.

Finally, after studying my student record, the principal, Mr. Paisley, looked up at me. He smiled, although it didn’t look like a real smile.

“So, Cody, do you believe in fresh starts?” he asked.

“I guess I’d better.”

He laughed. “I guess we’d
all
better,” he said. “This is certainly not a record to be proud of.”

“Believe me, I’m not proud of it, sir.”

“That’s good to hear. Some people do pride themselves on being tough guys. There are lots of notations on your record about fighting. Do you see yourself as a tough guy?”

“I can take care of myself,” I said, and then thought better of it. “But really, I see myself as more of a stupid guy who gets into stupid fights about nothing without thinking.”

“Like today?” he asked.

“Like today,” I replied. So much for Jake keeping his mouth shut. But what did I expect? If he’d kept his mouth shut to begin with, none of this would have happened.

“Impulse control seems to be an issue,” Mr. Paisley said.

“Not to excuse what happened today,” Coach said, “but he didn’t really start it. He kept his temper the first half-dozen times he was provoked … not that he was
right
in finally reacting the way he did.”

“I appreciate that you tried to control yourself, but you’re going to have to try harder,” the principal said. “Fighting on school property is an automatic suspension for both parties.”

“What if I didn’t start it and only swung back?” I asked.

“
Both
parties. If somebody swings at you, then you are to come down to the office and report them,” Mr. Paisley said.

“Yeah, I can see how that would work,” I mumbled sarcastically.

“It
does
work.” He paused. “I know that it’s different from what happens in hockey. I’ve played a little shinny in my time, and I was pretty good, if I do say so myself.”

I wanted to say, “Yeah, right, that’s why you’re a principal,” but I didn’t. At least I had
some
impulse control.

“And I know that out there on the ice, you have to take care of yourself. You have to be a tough guy. If somebody drops the gloves, you have no choice but to answer the bell. But
you
have to understand that I’m running a school and not an arena. Here you have to be tough enough
not
to fight back.”

“You’re exactly right,” Coach said. “School requires an altogether different approach to challenges. On the ice, I expect my players to back down from nobody,
and believe me, Cody is one of the best—he’s a tough-as-nails player—but that’s not the right attitude for school. Maybe nobody has ever explained it to him that clearly. I’ve got to be honest, nobody has ever explained it to
me
that clearly.”

I wasn’t sure if he was agreeing or simply buttering up the principal to get him on our side.

Coach turned to me. “Cody, do you realize how fortunate we are to have a principal who not only agreed to give up his time during the summer to meet with us, and who understands hockey, but who also understands some issues on a level that I hadn’t thought through?” He turned back to Mr. Paisley. “Again, I want you to know how grateful I am.”

“It’s my pleasure. But perhaps I should be thanking you,” he said. “You’re the first coach who has ever taken the time to meet with me. You’re going above and beyond too.”

“I can’t imagine why all coaches
wouldn’t
do that,” Coach said. “We’re not just trying to produce hockey players, we’re trying to produce well-rounded young men, and that has to include a partnership with the school. We’re all on the same team, and in matters surrounding the school, you, sir, are the captain, coach, and owner all rolled into one. I’ll do whatever is necessary to help make this partnership a success for
our
boys … because they really are
our
boys.”

“What a wonderful attitude!” Mr. Paisley beamed. “You know, a lot of the players and coaches for the Warriors have
given me the impression that school, for them, was nothing more than an inconvenience that got in the way of hockey.”

“That would be incredibly short-sighted,” Coach said. “While we hope that some of these boys will move on to professional careers, we all know that the vast majority will not, and without a proper education, they’ll have nothing.”

“Again, I really appreciate your attitude, Coach. Perhaps I can get out and see a few more games this year.”

“That would be wonderful!” Coach exclaimed. “In fact, I’m going to arrange for there to be two complimentary tickets for you at the door for every one of our home games.”

“That’s … that’s so generous, so kind of you!”

“They’ll be seats right by our bench. I think it would be incredible for the boys to see you there and know you’re on their side.”

“I
am
on their side. I think the whole town is on their side … although I’m not sure how happy the town is going to be with your decision to suspend them from hockey if I suspend them from school.”

“What?” I gasped.

Coach looked directly at me. “I’ve told Principal Paisley that it is
my
decision that if any player is suspended from school, he will also be suspended from the team for the same period.”

“Something no coach has ever done before, I might add,” Mr. Paisley said.

“It’s all about getting the boys to take school more seriously, by reinforcing the lesson, adding consequences for their behaviour,” Coach said. “Cody, do you think that will stop you from fighting at school?”

I held up my hands in surrender. “I’m not fighting anybody who isn’t wearing a pair of skates.”

“Excellent,” Mr. Paisley said. “Of course, the other issue for you is around your academics. Your marks are very low, and we also suspend students who fail courses.”

“I think that’s an important life lesson,” Coach said. “Anybody who fails is simply failing to try hard enough.”

“Those are my thoughts exactly!” Mr. Paisley exclaimed. “And I want you to know that we have additional help available at the school.”

“I’ll make sure the boys avail themselves of those services,” Coach said. “But with Cody here, I’m going to go the extra mile.” He reached over and placed a hand on my shoulder, and I fought not to react to his touch. “I am going to
personally
tutor him. After all, a coach is just a different kind of teacher.”

“I wish all coaches—heck, all parents—had your attitude and ideas,” Mr. Paisley said.

“And I wish all principals were as dedicated and visionary as you, sir,” Coach offered.

“Just doing my job.”

“As I am mine,” Coach said. “And together, you and I, we can do right by these boys.”

I could see what Coach was doing—what he’d
done
.
He had turned this whole thing around. The principal was on our side now—was on
Coach’s
side. He just had this way of saying the right things, doing the right thing, so that people couldn’t help but like him. I wondered how much of what he’d said he really believed.

“Young man, you are fortunate to have a coach like this,” Mr. Paisley said to me. “So often at this level the only thing that a coach cares about is winning and losing. I know that your coach actually cares about you as a person, and that is rare.”

“Again, you’re being too kind,” Coach said. “Cody, is there anything you want to say to your new principal?”

I knew what was expected. “I want to thank you, sir, for all that you’ve said, and I promise you that I won’t let you down. I’ll work as hard at school as I will on the ice.”

“And we’ll work hard for you as well,” Mr. Paisley said. “Now, is there anything you want to say to your Coach?”

There were lots of things I wanted to say, wanted to ask, but I knew I couldn’t ask any of them. “I guess I just want to say thanks.”

He smiled at me. “You know it really is
my
pleasure.”

Later that day, I’d moved from one seat to another, from one place to another. This time, instead of a booth in a restaurant, it was a seat in the living room of a house. And instead of Principal Paisley, it was a whole family—mother,
father, twin eleven-year-old sons, and a baby. They were going to be billeting all three of us during the season. My first thought was about how much I didn’t want to live with Jake. The only good thing was that I knew that he wanted to live with me even
less
.

Josh, on the other hand, was being Josh. He was bouncing the baby and talking to the kids and the parents like he was trying to win the audition for adorable older brother. They were all friendly and happy to have us. They seemed like the perfect family, in a Sears catalogue or an Old Navy commercial sort of way.

I shouldn’t have been surprised that Josh was just as comfortable with them as they were with us. He’d grown up in a family—a
real
family, the kind with a father and mother and younger sister, where everybody was normal. Not that they couldn’t be something different under the surface. I looked over at Coach talking and smiling.

I was having trouble concentrating on the conversation. I’d hardly slept at all the night before, which made it even harder to make sense of everything. My mind kept circling around, looking for an answer, a reason, a solution, a way out, an explanation. But each time it cycled around, I came up with the same answer. My coach—this man who everybody seemed to love, this man who said he wanted only the best for me, this man who held the key to my whole future—had been groping me.

No, that couldn’t be true. My mind started the same cycle again. I had to have missed something, or I didn’t understand … something. I’d been there and I still couldn’t believe it … not Coach … not with me.

“So, Cody, you’ve been very quiet,” Mrs. Olsen said.

“Just thinking,” I said. That much wasn’t a lie. I was wondering if this was a safe place, if they were good people. I had lots of questions that a brief meeting wouldn’t answer. “You really have a beautiful home,” I said, knowing they were looking for more.

“Thank you so much. I really hope you’ll soon come to think of this as
your
home. I hope all of you boys will,” she said.

“I already feel at home,” Josh said, eliciting a smile from everybody.

“You still need to see your rooms,” Mr. Olsen said. “I’ll show them to you.”

We got up and followed him down the basement stairs.

“With the exception of the laundry room, you have the basement to yourselves. The bedrooms aren’t huge,” he said, “but you each have your own. I know how important privacy is to a teenage boy.”

From the outside it didn’t look like a very large house, but the basement was big. Mr. Olsen pushed open the door to the first room and flicked on the light. It was small, but it did look neat and tidy. The ceiling was partway above ground, so there was a window that let in a lot of light. He showed us the other two rooms. They were basically
repeats of the first, just painted in different colours and with different patterned quilts on the beds.

“You three will also be sharing the same bathroom.” He pushed open another door to reveal bright lights, a double sink, big mirror, a toilet, tub, and a separate shower stall. “We also make it a rule that our own boys are not allowed downstairs,” Mr. Olsen said.

“Oh, they can come down if they want,” Josh said. “They won’t bother us.”

“No,” Mr. Olsen said forcefully. “It’s important that you have your privacy. We’ll make sure our boys respect that.”

“And
my
boys will remember that respect goes both ways,” Coach said. “Cody, Josh, Jake, while you’re living under this roof, you are to give Mr. and Mrs. Olsen your
complete
respect.”

We all nodded our heads solemnly.

“Not just here, but in the community,” he continued. “This is a small town where everybody knows everybody.”

“And gossips about everybody!” Mrs. Olsen added, and then laughed nervously.

“Exactly. What you do out there in the community reflects on this fine family, and I want you to do right by them.”

Again we all nodded.

He turned to the Olsens. “My boys will comport themselves as gentlemen. You have my home and cellphone numbers, and if there’s any problem, and I mean
any
problem, twenty-four hours a day, I want you to call me.”

“We appreciate your support, Coach,” Mr. Olsen said.

Coach went on to give a slightly different version of the speech he’d given to the principal about us all being “partners” and offering them tickets to every game. They seemed as impressed as the principal had been. Again, no surprise. He did impress everybody he came in contact with. He always knew what to say. I listened closely, trying to find a clue that he was just giving them a line, “playing” them, but I couldn’t. You couldn’t help believing what he was saying because he really did say it like he believed it. The important part was that
they
believed him … or even more, believed
in
him.

W
e pulled up to the Wendy’s restaurant.

“Josh, go get us some food. Four number-one combos,” Coach said. “And take Jake with you.”

“Why don’t we just use the drive-through window?” Jake suggested.

“Because I don’t want to drive while I eat … if that’s okay with you!” His whole tone and expression had changed in an instant, from pleasant to angry.

“Sure, of course,” Jake mumbled.

“Good, then get us our food … pronto!”

Josh and Jake jumped out of the car.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Coach said, “I think we need to talk.”

I didn’t know if I
could
talk. I couldn’t even look at him. I felt like I could hardly breathe.

“Or maybe you just have to listen and I need to talk.”

I could listen. I could maybe even understand.

“I know you’re pretty confused about what happened last night.”

I nodded ever so slightly, still not able to look up.

“You know that you’re special to me … with some people there’s just more of a connection … a closeness,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. He placed a hand on my shoulder and my stomach did a flip. I tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip—I was held in place, shocked by his power. “I knew I could trust you not to tell anybody,” he said. “Like you didn’t tell anybody today.”

“But … but why me?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

“I told you. You’re special, and with my help you’re going to become even more special.” He loosened his grip but kept his hand on my shoulder. “You’ll be my confidant. You’ll be taken into my deepest trust, and you’ll have control over things. Take Jake,” he said. He gestured toward the front window of the restaurant, where we could see Jake and Josh standing in line. “Like I told you, if you want, he’s gone.”

“Please don’t do that.”

“Then because you don’t want him traded, he stays, just like that. I’m the coach. I can trade him or keep him. Or … I can simply
destroy
him. I can sit him on the bench, ride him, ridicule him, until he quits, and then I’ll make
sure that no other team will waste time on him. I can do that.”

I knew he could. He could destroy Jake. Or anybody else on the team.

“Well, what do you want me to do with him? Are you sure you want him on the team?”

I looked at Jake. He was inside, joking with Josh. I didn’t like him, but I didn’t hate him.

“I told you, he can stay.”

“Good answer, but it was nothing less than what I’d expect from a future captain of mine. You’re putting the team ahead of yourself. You know, over the years, I’ve selected a few young men … you’re not the first … but you are the
only
one … right now.” He paused. “You even met one of them—at the Leafs game. He’s one of your favourite players.”

“You mean that Brad Simmons was …?”

He smiled. “He was my special friend then, the way you are now. I did for him what I want to do for you. I want to help you to become a professional hockey player. Isn’t that what you want too?”

“Of course.”

“I’m going to make that all happen. I’m going to invest in you all of the time you need, give you all the opportunities, coach you, teach you. You’ll become the captain, but you’ll become so much
more
than that.”

“But what does that have to do with what you did … what you did … to me?”

“It’s about your transformation into a
man
. This has been going on forever. A great man takes a young boy as his protege and turns him into a man. This has been happening since the beginning of time, and it still happens today … much more than you’d think … it’s just that nobody talks about it because some people wouldn’t understand. And that’s why you can’t tell anybody. Do you understand?”

I didn’t answer.

“I’m trusting you to keep
our
secret. Besides, if you
did
tell, nobody would believe you. It would be your word against mine.”

I looked up at him. He was right. Nobody would believe me. I knew it and he knew it.

“All that you’d do if you tried to tell is destroy your future. Nobody would ever take a chance on you again. You’d be blacklisted. You’d be nothing … you’d become
nothing
. It would be awful for you to throw away all that you could become, to lose your future, which is so bright.”

He stared directly at me until my eyes dropped to the ground.

“But, but, I’m not gay,” I stammered.

“Of course you’re not. And neither am I. I just have
needs
. We all have needs.” He took a deep breath. “Cody, you’ll learn that sometimes you have to be prepared to give a little to get a lot. I’m prepared to give you
everything
. You’ll get so much more than you’ll be giving and—”

The back doors popped open and Josh and Jake climbed in. Coach released my arm.

“Here’s your food.”

“Thanks, boys.”

Jake handed me a bag.

“Thanks,” I mumbled. I just didn’t know if I could eat … or hold it down if I did.