Megan had been called in early to help set up. While she worked in the back to organize cutlery, napkins and takeout containers, Earl stormed by on the way to his office.
Shortly afterward, Megan had turned and seen Curtis standing there. She noticed the dried-up blood and swollen knuckles on his right hand.
“Um, Curtis,” she began, “are you okay?”
“Did your son go on the trip?” Curtis asked.
“The trip’s tomorrow, but yes he’s going. What happened to your hand?”
“I don’t think you’re a whore or anything. I just wanted to do something nice for you because you’re nice. And I never went on trips.”
Megan nodded. Curtis pointed at the manager’s door.
“Yeah, he’s in there,” Megan said.
Curtis walked by her and used his good hand to open the office door without knocking. Earl looked up from his paperwork. Without being asked, Curtis sat down in a chair in front of the desk.
“What the hell happened to your hand, Lewis?” Earl asked.
Curtis stared at him blankly, but he did not respond.
“Well, whatever. Make sure you clean that up before your shift.”
Earl pushed a piece of paper across the table.
“There’s your schedule for the next month…back on your regular shifts,” Earl said. “Glad you came back to your senses, and I need you tonight so wrap that hand up and let’s go.”
Earl turned his attention back to the never-ending pile of receipts. Curtis looked down at the paper Earl had given him. He quietly grabbed a lighter that was on Earl’s desk, picked up the paper, lit it and tossed it back on the pile..
“Holy shit!” Earl exclaimed as he searched for something to put out the little flame. “Lewis, what the hell is wrong –”
In one motion, Curtis overturned the heavy desk with just one hand. The piles of paper scattered everywhere. A bowl went flying and smashed into pieces when it hit the floor. A lamp that had been on the desk also came apart. Earl pushed his chair back and got out of the way just before the desk crashed. Curtis’s schedule fizzled out on the floor.
“What the hell?!” Earl yelled. “I’m going to have you arrested, Lewis!”
Curtis stepped toward Earl, who backpedalled until there was nowhere he could go. Earl leaned against the wall, visibly trembling.
“Don’t you touch me, Lewis,” he warned. “Don’t you touch me.”
Curtis stood inches from Earl and glared at him. Earl turned his face away and closed his eyes.
“Curtis!” Megan yelled from the doorway.
“Please, Lewis,” Earl begged. “Just don’t, okay? Please?”
Curtis held up the index finger of his bloody hand and pointed it inches from Earl’s face.
“You are not a good person!” Curtis said through gritted teeth.
With that, Curtis turned around and left the office. Megan caught up to him.
“Curtis, wait,” she whispered. “Your hand…it might get infected. Meet me outside. I’ll get the first aid kit.”
Curtis looked at his hand and then at Megan. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“Five minutes,” she said while carefully caressing his injured hand.
Curtis left the restaurant. He managed to smile at the bartender on the way out.
Now in Megan’s living room, he looked at his bandaged hand, which he’d successfully hid from his coach and teammates during the last game. No one seemed to notice that he had one of his hockey gloves on the entire time he was in the dressing room, even before he put on his gear. Curtis knew that Ken would not have let him play if he saw the injury, and Curtis needed to play. He even scored a goal, despite a limited and painful grip on his stick.
“I mean, weren’t you worried he’d call the cops?” Megan asked.
“Maybe. I don’t know. What would’ve he told the cops?”
“Are you serious?” Megan scoffed.
“He’s not a good person.”
“Yeah, and you told him so, didn’t you?” she laughed.
He looked at Megan and tried to ignore how attracted he was to her. Her son Jimmy was in the house somewhere.
“Listen, Meg,” Curtis began, “Like I said, I really appreciate this, but I can’t crash here again.”
“Sure, you can,” Megan nodded and sipped her coffee. “At least for a while. I mean, where are you going to go?”
Curtis stood up and put on his shirt. “I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”
“Mom!” a young voice called. “Mom, where’s my backpack?”
Curtis pointed at the door. “Want me to go?”
“No, he won’t come in here because he knows you’re here.”
“Mom!”
“Hold on!” she called back to her son, then turned to Curtis. “When are you leaving for New York?”
“Later tonight. Bus is gonna drive through the night so we’re there in the morning.”
“Okay, well, at least come by for dinner before you go,” Megan said. “I’m off tonight. If you still need somewhere to stay after you get back, you can come here.”
Her smile was melting Curtis, and he could not help imagine what her body looked like under that long T-shirt, tattoos and all.
“Mom! I’m going to be late!”
“Besides, you asked me to have dinner with you, right?” Megan asked.
“Yeah.”
“So, let’s have dinner,” she smiled again.
“MOM!”
Megan faced the door. “You could always come out here, you know!” she called out.
“I’m not fucking coming out there!” Jimmy yelled back.
“See you later,” she smiled at Curtis before walking off in the direction of her son’s room. “Watch your mouth!”
Curtis plopped back down on the couch and winced because of his hand. He wasn’t sure where he would go after returning home from the road trip, or what the days ahead would look like – yet somehow he felt better than he had in a very long time.
36.
The team bus to New York City was gassed up and ready to go by 10 p.m. Helen had made these arrangements once again.
On some level, she wanted to believe that Corey appreciated it. He certainly had been more attentive recently. They even planned to have a fancy meal together before going to New York to meet up with the team.
Alex was the first one on the bus, and this time Isaac climbed aboard too and sat down in the seat behind him. Isaac was back to wearing his sunglasses and carried an old mp3 player that Alex gave him so he could “rock out.”
“New York City, baby,” Isaac said. “Good thing I don’t have my guitar because I’d jam out there and get discovered. Then you guys would have to play without me again.”
“Yeah, well, we got through it okay the first time,” Alex replied.
Isaac grabbed Alex’s shoulder and rocked him back and forth.
“New York City, baby!” he repeated. “Times Square! We’re gonna go there and meet chicks.”
“We are?”
“We’re hockey players, man. Chicks dig that.”
Alex’s roommate Todd from Ottawa peered over from his seat.
“We’re not hockey players,” he said. “We’re just a bunch of guys playing hockey.”
Mike Hill smiled.
“Whatever, my man,” Isaac said. “They don’t know the difference.”
The team was soon accounted for and the bus doors were closing. Matt stood up suddenly and asked the driver to let him out.
“Just for a minute…please,” Matt insisted.
“Hurry up,” Ken said from the first row. “We’re on a schedule.”
The door opened and Matt jumped out. The team watched him run to a woman who was standing in the terminal. Alex didn’t remember her being there earlier when they were boarding. She was dressed in a cheap-looking fur jacket and miniskirt.
“Some guys just can’t wait for Times Square,” Isaac commented.
; Matt hugged the woman tightly and after exchanging a few brief words, they kissed, and Matt ran back to the bus with his hands in his coat pockets. As the doors closed behind him amid the jeers and catcalls from his teammates, he took one hand out and stuck up his middle finger.
Toronto’s goalie slumped down low in his seat. He was certain that no one really saw what just occurred between him and Rachel, his on-again and off-again junkie girlfriend.
As he approached Rachel, he could feel everyone on the bus staring at him like they were burning holes in the back of his head with their eyes. Matt blocked their view of Rachel and pulled her in close.
“Hug me and put it in my coat pocket,” he said into her ear.
Rachel did exactly as he asked. To make it look more believable, Matt thought they should lay it on a little thick.
After they pulled apart from the hug, he held her by the shoulders.
“Let’s make this look good,” Matt said. “Let me kiss you.”
“You want to kiss me so this looks good?” Rachel laughed.
“Come on,” Matt replied quickly. “They’re watching.”
She laughed again, but did not resist as Matt pulled her in close and they kissed.
Back on the bus, Matt fell asleep with his left hand firmly clutching the vial she slipped into his pocket.
37.
During the height of her withdrawals, Diana didn’t want to walk around or do much. The foaming-at-the-mouth episode had only occurred once. It lasted for one extremely unpleasant hour, and she hoped it would not happen again.
On the day before she was supposed to leave for home, Diana managed to drag herself to the reservation desk at the resort and extend her stay for another week. She paid a penalty for rebooking her flight and did not care one bit. She rarely spent money on anything.
As she lay in bed with her eyes opening and closing, Diana drifted in and out of sleep. She kept waking up after seeing very raw images of various people in her life, especially her late sister. Over the years, Diana had dreamed about Tamara every now and then, but there were four or five dreams in the last two days, and they seemed so much more vivid than usual.
In the most recent one she could see her sister sitting across from her, but she couldn’t make out what Tamara was saying. Diana also tried to speak during the dream but did not hear her own voice at all.
Although they had only been a few years apart in age, they’d been quite different from each other and this was evident early on. Diana, the first born, was a high-achieving, obedient child, while Tamara was more of a free spirit. Diana’s responses to her parents, particularly to their mother, were always “Yes.” In contrast, Tamara’s replies, particularly to their mother, were “Maybe” or “No” – or “Okay” only when really pushed.
Diana did not have a rebellious bone in her body. Tamara, on the other hand, always seemed like she was fighting back against something. If Mrs. Cross made the girls ponytails when they were small, Tamara always changed hers, which annoyed their mother. If they were at a park and it was time to go, Tamara made sure to stay on the monkey bars a little longer just to make the point that she would leave when she was ready.
By the time they were teens, there was significant tension in their home. Diana was an honour roll student and Tamara brought home average to below-average marks. Her teachers all said the same thing: Tamara was capable of more, but just didn’t really seem that interested.
Tamara never responded to their mother’s lectures. Diana still remembered the expression on her sister’s face: she would simply zone out and not listen. When Mrs. Cross finally finished, Tamara always left the table with a little smirk.
Everything became worse after Diana’s parents learned that Tamara had started hanging out with a drug dealer from their high school. Their father came out strongly and instructed Tamara to stop seeing him. Their mother did the same. Diana even tried to talk her out of it. The more they all pushed, the more Tamara refused to listen.
“Why can’t you be more like your sister Diana?”
Tamara did not appreciate the comparison.
One day their father found a bong in Tamara’s bedroom. He uncharacteristically grabbed Tamara by the arm and pulled her close. If she ever brought drugs into their home again, he warned, there would be hell to pay. Tamara pulled away and her father immediately regretted his actions.
Tamara left and did not return to the house that night.
The next day, while her worried parents stayed home from work and contacted police, Diana packed some extra clothes for her sister, hoping she would show up at school.
When Tamara did, in fact, go to school, a relieved Diana gave her the clothes and called their parents to say that she was safe. Tamara decided to go home that night and her parents didn’t bother her, but for the next several days no one talked to anyone else in the Cross home.
And then the unspeakable happened.
Tamara’s drug dealer boyfriend pumped her full of pills and vodka at a house party. He was pushing Tamara hard for sex, but she kept turning him down. So, he drugged her up to have his way with her.
Paramedics were finally called to the house party by one of Tamara’s less-stoned friends, who noticed her lying on the floor convulsing. Despite their valiant efforts, Diana’s little sister died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.
Under the Youth Criminal Justice Act, the boyfriend was convicted of manslaughter as a youth under eighteen. He was sentenced to two years in an open custody facility. Tamara was dead and he got to go home on weekends and attend a rehab program. Even at that young age, Diana fumed quietly.
At the resort, Diana got out of bed and went to the bathroom to pee. She thought about being in the hospital room with Alex when his mother passed away. As incredibly sad as that was, it gave him (and her, for that matter) an opportunity to say goodbye. The Cross family never had that chance with Tamara.
Diana sat on the toilet and peed continuously for nearly thirty seconds because of all the water she’d consumed. She was angry at her mother for constantly berating her sister. She was disappointed in her father. She was mad at Tamara. She felt tremendous guilt for not figuring out how to do more at the time.
She put her face in her hands and finally allowed herself to really let go. It was okay to feel all this now, she told herself as she cried and cried.
After several minutes, Diana finally got off the toilet and splashed water on her face.
No more pills. No more hiding.
She would get help when she returned to Toronto.
It would be okay.
38.
The Toronto players had thought the overnight accommodations in Ottawa were bad, but the cheap motel in New York was a step down by any reasonable account. The team bus ended up stopping at a place that was forty minutes outside New York City. The sign out front was supposed to read MOTEL. Instead, it read MOTE with the L burned out.
The players lined up in a gloomy and dusty reception area for their room keys. Alex looked at the carpet and saw red ants crawling on it. Eddie stood ahead of him with Mike. The single key they were given for their room had an old skeletal shape. Eddie took the key from the receptionist and stared at it.
“That open up a treasure or some shit?” Isaac called out from behind Alex.
“Yeah, Room 59,” the clerk behind the counter said impatiently. “Next!”
When Alex and Isaac finally unlocked the door to their room and turned on a light, they both heard little feet scrambling on the cheap linoleum floor.
“Mice,” Alex sighed.
Isaac threw himself onto the only bed. “I get the middle.”
Alex dropped his bag and looked around. Half of the ceiling tiles had water damage and were sagging directly over the bed. He wondered if the T-bar in the ceiling was stable. He imagined the ceiling caving in while he was sleeping with Isaac spooning him.
“Check it out, my man,” Isaac said and pointed up at a large ceiling mirror directly above
the bed. He pushed his pelvis up and down and humped the air.
“You keep that up and you can have the middle,” Alex said.
“Oh yeah, c’mon baby, you know you want it,” he said to his own reflection.
“Come on, be serious,” Alex said. “We need to sleep. New York’s ranked number one right now.”
“Yeah, so what?” Isaac responded. “I’m here, so whaddya want from me?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve kind of sucked so far.”
“Fuck you.”
“You think New York’s the big time?” Alex asked. “Times Square and all that?”
“Yeah?”
“So…go out there and be Mr. Big Time.”
39.
Similar to Toronto, the small committee that organized New York had found an abandoned arena between LaGuardia Airport and New York City and turned it into a reclamation project. They were also the only city besides Detroit filling up their home arena – with about eight thousand people, just under the building’s capacity.
“I hope none of you were expecting to pull up in front of Madison Square Garden,” Ken quipped while swaying back and forth on a speedy and turbulent subway.
Isaac had a pale expression on his face as he sat by himself at the far end of the subway car. He grimaced at every bump and looked like he might throw up at any second. Alex got up from his seat and walked over to him.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“I don’t know, baby,” Isaac answered. “Stomach bug or something…I was leaking out of both ends before we left.”
“Great. Now I’ll probably catch whatever you have.”
“Don’t overdo the concerned bit.”
Alex studied his friend’s ghostly face.
“Seriously, tell Coach. You shouldn’t play.”
Isaac looked up at a map of the city’s multiple subway routes.
“How many more stops? I’ve got to get to the can again.”
New York had five wins against one loss.
Toronto was coming off back-to-back wins, but their overall record was still only 2–3–1.
The Tournament Page 22