by Les W Kuzyk
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As their last in-flight prep meeting finished, Harry stood to stretch in the onboard conference room. André slipped eye covers on and leaned back. The last discussion turned to Canada’s need for extra energy due to a cold climate and the long travel distances due to the great expanse of the country. How to respond to comparisons made to Nordic countries. Copenhagen with all those bicycle riders. Canada had a transnational cycling trail that would take an Olympic rider an entire summer to traverse. Proving the point of long distance. Bicycle trails in Ottawa functioned fine for the young and the athletic, Minister Kendall said, before retiring to his private room.
Harry glanced at the time. Half their ten hour flight had passed so their plane must be somewhere over the mid-Atlantic. And so very close to game time.
“You ever been on the Prime Minister’s plane, Harry?” Paul walked up.
“Never have,” Harry said, turning.
“Sophie has. She says they’ve got an oval office conference area. Chairs are connected to that hologram All-Round-U system,” Paul said. “A full Float’n’Hover sound system.”
“Yeah?” Harry said. “That’d be so cool for watching a game.”
“Oh yeah,” Paul said. “Like you’re right there in Scotia Place.”
Harry felt a glow of camaraderie watching Paul’s expression. “You want a drink?” He grabbed two and another for André before sitting again. Flicking the remote for this plane’s older hologram projections, they tuned in to adgram beers, babes and buster trucks rolling through the back country. A dancing icon counted fifteen minutes of pregame left, and then game time! Excellent.
“Gonna be a lot warmer in Italy than Ottawa.” Paul took his drink from Harry.
“Yeah…still not as warm as the Caribbean,” Harry said.
“You go south for the winter?”
“Oh yeah, we love it there. We’ve got tickets booked for St Lucia early January.” He told Paul they might squeeze another trip in too. That place they heard of other side of the Dominican. “We’ve got a family excursion map posted in our downstairs rec room. So every place we explore gets a green pin and a yellow for all the wanna go places we haven’t been yet. My boys miss a couple of their junior league games, but they love putting up those pins.” The map was just above the pool table. One reason they needed to buy a bigger house, so they’d have space for that twelve foot table.
“We got it tough,” Paul said. “Living up in the cold north.”
“Warmer than Mars,” Harry laughed. “Wonder what they’ve got for vacation spots on that planet?”
“My wife sent a hundred bucks to the bring-Jackie-back fund,” Paul nodded. “Leave Haydon there, she says.”
“Ah, my wife figures Jackie would get lost in the crowd back here.” Harry shook his head. “Keep her famous, she says. So she sent a couple hundred to the send-a-nursery fund.”
They checked the screen. Still a few minutes before the game.
“Yeah, man, Canada’s the best by far but life can get tough.” Harry went on. “My family’s happy enough when we grab our scuba gear and hop a plane for a bit of reef swimming. Those resorts are the perfect place to clear your mind. You know, you laze around on a sandy beach for the day. Great way to relax and get away from the snow. You?”
“Ah, been south a couple times,” Paul said. “We’ve got skidoos and we downhill ski a lot.”
Noise in the crowd signalled pregame over, and the game beginning.
“You must be a Sens fan,” Harry said.
“Bruins,” Paul stated. “They’ll be taking this game and any other.”
“André’s got the Habs.” Harry shook his head. “I feel sorry for the guy.”
André pulled his eye covers, lifting one fist. “Montréal.” He rolled the name out in his first language French.
“Spezza’s gonna take the Sens into the playoffs easy this year.” Harry told Paul. “Then, the real and only team takes it from there.”
“That’s Ottawa’s captain?”
“Absolutely.”
“Hey, game’s starting.”
The game came and went fast as Harry fell into the comfort of his cheering zone. He rose from his seat at a couple hard hits, and when the game ended in overtime his loud cheer and Paul’s belated groan echoed around the boardroom. With a couple hours yet until arrival, they held the game’s excitement talking over the best plays until Harry felt his energy sag. He could see the same in the others. Flight hours and the European time change kept a team, international hockey or negotiating, adjusting for jet lag. But the best trick was setting the game time delay, Harry told them, just as if you were watching that evening. You trick your circadian rhythm with the greatest game on Earth.
Late Sunday evening Florence air traffic was light as their plane circled. Harry rubbed at his tired eyes. Angie and the boys would be eating breakfast.
As they followed each other off the plane, their Climate Minister gestured over at a Challenger coming to dock at the next terminal. Harry felt the cool Italian night air refreshing his spent face. That would be the Prime Minister’s plane he vaguely heard Paul say.