The Tournament

by Angelo Kontos

  The first thing he saw after going inside was a single piece of luggage on the floor. He heard a noise in the bathroom and then Diana appeared. They looked at each other for a moment before Diana spoke.

  “Maybe just for one night,” she said quietly.

  Alex dropped his hockey bag on the floor and went to her. Soon they were grabbing each other and kissing without taking a break to come up for air. Alex lifted Diana onto the kitchen counter to be eye level with him.

  “You smell like sweat,” Diana gasped.

  “I can shower,” Alex promised. “I’ll shower.”

  “I could use a shower,” she said as they continued to grab and kiss.

  Alex scooped Diana up in his arms and carried her into the bathroom.

  44.

  A dare was a dare, as far as twenty-year-old Alex was concerned. His girlfriend Diana challenged him after he made a flippant comment about how easy baking was. They were supposed to meet up later that night and Diana dared Alex to bake a cake.

  “Fine,” Alex had replied confidently.

  He ran out to the nearest convenience store, purchased a generic chocolate cake mix and went to work. His mother watched him curiously as he struggled to measure and mix the box’s contents into one of her rectangular cake pans.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m making a cake,” Alex replied.

  A half hour later, the most Alex could say about the “cake” was that it was probably edible. It was also completely lopsided, and the top of the cake had caved in on itself. Alex tried to compensate by overdoing the icing.

  His mother became more and more entertained by this as the night went on. After he appeared to be finished, she laughed out loud.

  “You’re going to give her that?”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  His mother howled with laughter.

  Alex started searching through cupboards.

  “Wh-what are you looking for?”

  “I need to wrap it in something.”

  “Yes, you should hide it,” his mother wailed, nearly out of breath.

  Alex found a roll of aluminum foil and ripped a large sheet off.

  His mother held her sides and continued to laugh as she watched her son awkwardly wrap the cake in the foil.

  He broke out giggling a little himself, after seeing her wipe away tears.

  “She’s going to love it, you’ll see,” Alex predicted as he picked up the cake and went for the door.

  Alex and Diana lay in bed together for the first time in well over a year. Diana liked to rest her head on Alex’s chest and hear the beat of his heart, something Alex thought about often during the numerous dark nights he had more recently occupied that bed by himself.

  “That cake was ridiculous,” Diana said. “But I thought the whole thing was incredibly cute.”

  “That was a great cake,” Alex said. “We ate it, didn’t we?”

  “I remember you gave me the side that hadn’t fallen over. I thought that was sweet.”

  They laughed together.

  “What made you think of that now?” Diana asked.

  “Well, that was the first night we…you know…”

  “I remember,” Diana recalled. “What did your mother say to you when you left with the cake?”

  “She said…you’re going to marry that girl one day.”

  45.

  The “Butcher” on Ottawa, Greg Leon, could not resist running his mouth again prior to Game 7. With Brooks Edwards and other reporters happily sticking a microphone in his face, the Butcher predicted that Ottawa would not just win the game against Toronto, but also destroy Alex and company in the process. He named Toronto’s captain specifically.

  “It’s our time now,” the Butcher said. “We’ve got The Wall and they don’t.”

  He advised Toronto players to secure their chinstraps and keep their heads up, because he planned to single-handedly bowl them all over.

  COLE

  Aaaaaaaaaaand good evening hockey fans from coast to coast and to our neighbours in the United States. Cole Foster here with you for a Game 7 thriller between Toronto and Ottawa at the Old Arena Gardens in beautiful Toronto.

  These teams have gone at it back and forth with a couple of double-overtime games. A close series, and great goaltending from both sides, but especially Joseph “The Wall” Walter of Ottawa. The winner tonight will go on to face Wayne Vanstone and New York in the final.

  The ten thousand delirious Toronto fans cheered at the top of their lungs as Eddie leaned in to take the opening draw.

  It occurred to Eddie while he kicked the puck back toward Alex that he’d never heard such an ovation for simply winning a draw. The building was rocking.

  Alex moved up as Toronto fired the puck in around the boards. The Butcher retrieved it behind the Ottawa net, and as he skated around Alex came flying in and levelled him with a hard, clean hit. Alex skated past the Butcher’s fallen body to thunderous noise from the fans.

  Moments later, Toronto looked like they had a sure goal when Isaac fired a one-timer with Ottawa’s goalie out of position. At the last second, though, The Wall pulled off another incredible save as he dove across the net and caught the puck.

  Ohmigoodness! Joseph “The Wall” Walter with another unbelievable save! You cannot believe the Wall and the save he just made. There’s Ken Hornsby on the Toronto bench shaking his head. He can’t believe it either!

  There was no time to worry about how hot The Wall was or how many highlight reel saves he would make. Toronto knew they had to keep coming, and they did.

  Here’s Davis at the point. Throws it over to Bucco and gets it handed back…fires it and missed the goal! Rebound! Scooooooooooooores! Lewis in front! 1–0 Toronto!

  A few minutes after Curtis’s goal, Alex raced back into the Ottawa zone with the puck and had Mike trailing the play.

  It is Bucco and Hill. Bucco gets it behind the net…throws it out front… Scoooore!!! 2–0 Toronto!

  On the second goal, Toronto got another break as Alex’s centering pass hit the Butcher in front of the net, similar to what happened to Alex during the round robin, and the puck snuck in past a surprised Joseph Walter.

  Isaac had it next and was skating up the side of the rink. He made a move to get by a backchecking Ottawa forward and kept going. The crowd cheered him on as Alex raced hard to catch up.

  Now here’s Banion and Bucco coming in! Delayed penalty coming up against Ottawa! Banion to Bucco… diving…SCOOOOOOOOOORES! Banion and Bucco…on a beautiful play! And it’s 3–0 Toronto!

  Alex picked himself up and danced on his skates behind the net with his arms raised. He skated back around and met Isaac across the ice. They both pumped their fists before jumping on each other as their teammates piled on.

  Angus Miller was on the Zamboni near the gate and nearly fell off from all the excitement. He also noticed Helen looking on and smiling, and then he saw Corey watching Helen. They weren’t sitting anywhere close to each other. For a brief moment, Angus felt sorry for the poor bastard.

  As for Toronto, they were wearing out every Ottawa player, including their star goaltender.

  Now here come Banion and Bucco again. Bucco has it and is home alone! Home alone…aaaand…SCORES!

  Alex launched a nasty snapshot into the top corner of the net right over the Wall’s shoulder. The fans seemed to expect that every Toronto shot was going to go in now and were in full party mode. Some of them were cheering the goal before Alex had even fired the shot.

  At the end of two periods Toronto had a commanding 4–0 lead, and barring an unforeseen collapse, they were one period away from advancing to The Tournament’s final against New York.

  The home crowd were all on their feet to start the final period, and no one sat back down. Collectively, Ottawa looked like they wanted nothing more to do with this game and were simply going through the motions. Early in the period, Alex received another drop pass and fired a clapper that hit
The Wall’s mask so hard it came off. Walter got to his feet immediately after the whistle blew to stop the play. He was clearly shaken, but not hurt.

  Ottawa took several risks with their defencemen pinching in a desperate attempt to try and score at least one goal. This resulted in an odd man rush for Toronto, with Mike carrying the puck up ice. Timing it perfectly, Mike fed the younger defenceman Todd a pass, and Todd one-timed it through The Wall’s legs for the only soft goal Joseph Walter had allowed during the entire series.

  5–0 Toronto.

  It was the first thumping by Toronto during the playoffs, and the fans were jubilant.

  Bucco grabs the puck in the Toronto zone and turns away from a check… He hits Hill with a pass. A breakaway! Hill in on goal… He scores! Hill! And it’s 6–0 Toronto!

  Ottawa players were all looking at the clock as the game was finally about to end.

  Five seconds left…6–0 Toronto…and they’re on their way to the Final. Listen to the crowd! This game is over!

  The Toronto players embraced and tapped each other’s helmets, all except for Barry Davis – everyone was wary of him. Alex skated right over to Ken and gave him a big hug.

  “We’ve got one more for you, Coach,” Alex said.

  46.

  Curtis was on his way to Megan’s after leaving the rink, as happy as could be following his team’s powerful win against Ottawa.

  He hoped to avoid another episode tonight involving Megan’s son. The volume had just been cranked too high on that drama lately and Curtis was unsure of where it was all going. The boy walked around with a chip on his shoulder. Curtis wanted to reach out to Jimmy, but the kid could not stand the sight of him.

  During the drive home, Curtis’s Bluetooth went off in the car. He was indeed going to be involved in more drama before the night was over, but it had nothing to do with Megan’s son.

  His mother.

  She had been admitted to hospital after collapsing on the front steps of their neighbour’s home. The neighbour called 911 and ran out to cover her with a blanket until paramedics arrived. The neighbour’s initial fear was that she suffered a heart attack or stroke, but Curtis realized that must not be the case. Otherwise, she would not have ended up in the geriatric psychiatry ward.

  When he arrived at the hospital, his mother was walking in the hall with a nurse beside her. She was using a walker and moving very slowly. Curtis approached but was intercepted by a doctor who asked Curtis to join him for a private conversation. They went into a conference room and the doctor laid everything out.

  Mrs. Lewis was brought in earlier that evening, around the time Curtis scored the first of Toronto’s six goals during Game 7. She was evaluated in the emergency ward for a possible cardiac episode and all the tests came back negative, including her blood work. From a physical standpoint, she was fine.

  “Has your mother ever been referred to a psychiatrist?” the doctor inquired.

  “You think she’s crazy?”

  “We need time to evaluate her properly,” the doctor replied. “But she strikes me as histrionic.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Well, it can mean different things,” the doctor explained. “The person needing to be the centre of attention, everything revolves around them, that kind of stuff.”

  Curtis nodded. “Oh.”

  “Any of that sound familiar?”

  Curtis took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “To be honest, yeah.”

  “We’d like to keep your mother here for a while.”

  “How long?”

  “At least the next two or three days, maybe a week or two. It’s hard to say. Depends on how things go.”

  “Okay.”

  The doctor stood and shook Curtis’s hand.

  “I don’t watch hockey, but someone mentioned you’re playing in this tournament that’s going on?” the doctor asked.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Curtis responded.

  “I heard you advanced to the finals. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.”

  47.

  Matt was high as a kite as he stumbled along the pier in another drug-fuelled haze following post-game celebrations with his father. In the past few months, he’d managed to go from sitting around his boat with Rachel to playing hockey again with old friends and reconnecting with his old man. How great was his life now?

  As for using, Matt could take it or leave it, but he was taking it now because it helped him stay sharp. He could stop right after The Tournament was over, no problem. He also wondered, as he often did, when he might ever get a response to all the e-mails he sent. Admittedly, he’d only been trying to send them for the past six months, but during that time there must have been at least fifty messages without a reply. He knew that both e-mail addresses he used were active, but he was still getting nothing back. He decided to send a new one off as soon as he got back to the boat.

  Tonight just might be his night.

  Matt saw a light on in his boat again. Did he screw up another date with Rachel? He could not remember having any communication with her at all since their little domestic. Matt had actually registered a bit of guilt about that when he woke up the next morning, but he blew it off.

  When he opened the door, it took him a moment to fully comprehend what he was seeing.

  There were no microwaved dinners or candles or bottle of wine…no Rachel standing there. In fact, there was nothing at all. Matt leaned against the door frame for support after realizing that his personal laptop was missing.

  Everything was gone.

  48.

  Mary Sinclair had seen a lot in her role as a hospital administrator over the years. More often than not, she dealt with very sensitive and painful situations while helping families find closure.

  Some meetings were harder than others and she had no idea how this one would go. Sitting in her office were Eddie Mark and Tommy’s parents, who had requested the meeting.

  “Good morning,” Mary started cheerily. “Thank you all for coming.”

  Tommy’s parents smiled politely. Eddie’s Just Toronto baseball cap was pulled down low over his eyes.

  “I think it’s important to start off by acknowledging we are dealing with a situation that is difficult for everyone here,” she said.

  They all sat there awkwardly for a minute after Mary’s comment. Tommy’s father finally cleared his throat and spoke.

  “What’s best for Tommy is to put a stop to all this now,” he said.

  Mary turned to Eddie.

  “What are your thoughts, Mr. Mark?” she asked.

  “About what?”

  “About what Tommy’s father just said,” she replied.

  “My thoughts are that he wouldn’t know what’s best for Tommy,” Eddie stated bitterly.

  “Now just a minute…” Tommy’s father started to object.

  “Why did you abandon him then?” Eddie asked, raising his cap.

  Mary noticed that Eddie’s hands were shaking. “Perhaps we need to focus on the issue and avoid –”

  “We did not abandon him,” Tommy’s father said angrily.

  “What would you call it?” Eddie asked.

  Tommy’s father leaned forward to respond, but his wife put a hand on his knee for him to stop.

  “Eddie, we have never doubted how much this has haunted you,” she said. “And once we got over the shock of what happened to our son, we never blamed you. It wasn’t your fault.”

  Eddie shrugged. “I don’t understand your point.”

  “You need to let go now,” Tommy’s mother said.

  “You sure did that pretty quickly,” Eddie said.

  Mary shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

  “That’s not fair,” Tommy’s mother protested. “We made sure Tommy was taken care of, that his needs were met, that he was in the best facilities…”

  “Your money did all that,” Eddie replied.

  “Alright, perhaps we should stop,” Mary s
uggested.

  “You want me to agree to pull the plug on him?” Eddie asked. “Well, I’m not going to.”

  Eddie stood up and glared at Tommy’s parents.

  “How could you not visit him all those years?” Eddie demanded. “It bothers you now that a machine is keeping him alive?”

  “I think we need to stop and take a break,” Mary Sinclair suggested more forcefully.

  “Don’t call me here for another meeting like this,” Eddie fumed to Mary. “I don’t need to ever talk to these people again.”

  49.

  Ken Hornsby hadn’t contacted anyone from the university in years. He never had a reason to, and considering that he’d left so abruptly, why would he?

  He took a chance that one of his old friends in the registrar’s office would still be there. Ken asked her to obtain some information for him discreetly. Even though it was a questionable thing to do, Ken’s friend did not seem to mind and called him back quickly to tell him Macdonald’s whereabouts.

  “I never liked that old jerk,” she told Ken over the phone.

  Ken thanked her and hung up. A few hours later, he arrived in the reception area of the seniors’ home where Macdonald lived. Ken falsely identified himself as one of the curmudgeons who’d served on the university’s board of directors with Macdonald. The place seemed pretty relaxed, but Ken was still asked for identification by the receptionist. He patted his back pocket and grimaced before informing her that he must have forgotten his wallet.

  “Please just let him know I’m here,” Ken said. “I’ve come all this way and it’s important I speak with him.”

  The receptionist smiled politely and asked one of the orderlies to pass the message on to Mr. Macdonald.

  “He never gets visitors,” the receptionist told Ken.

  This apparent visit from a former board colleague must have intrigued Macdonald because a few minutes later Ken was being escorted to the lounge area where Macdonald spent most of his day.

  Ken thanked the orderly and pulled up a chair to sit beside Macdonald. At some point while Ken was entering the room Macdonald must have recognized him, because he was clearly ignoring him. He stared blankly at the television.