Hockey Fever

by Glenn Parker

  Don shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I have no intentions of playing any hockey. I —”

  “We’ve got a good team here,” Lew continued. “It’s a young team with a few veterans mixed in.”

  “Like I said, I’m not prepared —”

  “You don’t have to give me an answer now,” Lew interrupted. “Think it over for a few days. We’ve had a couple of practices already. We practice on Tuesday and Thursday nights. If we haven’t got a game, we practice on Sunday afternoon too. We’ve got an exhibition game coming up next weekend.”

  “Mr. Simons, playing hockey is out of the question. I’m sorry, but I’ve quit hockey for good. I made that decision weeks ago and I mean to stick with it.”

  Lew Simons grinned. “Well, like I said, don’t rush things. You can let me know sometime this week. Better still come to practice on Tuesday night at seven.”

  It was Don’s turn to laugh. Was the man deaf he wondered? He couldn’t have made his intentions more plain.

  “I understand you’re going to work for Jess Abernathy. He’s a good man. You won’t have any trouble getting time off to play hockey with old Jess. He’s a great hockey fan.”

  He stood up and extended his hand. “Real nice meeting you, Don. Sure hope you like our town. Like to see you stick around for awhile. If you need anything, just let me know.”

  After he had gone, Don sat down on the bed to take stock of their conversation. He had the feeling that he had been given a snow job. Obviously Lew Simons was not a man who took “no” for an answer. Well, he would have to be more firm next time. The man needed convincing. The last thing Don wanted was to give Lew the impression that he was interested in playing for his team. That kind of thing could have disastrous results for him, especially if it got around the town and then he didn’t play. What a way to make a start. He would be singled out as a person who couldn’t be trusted, who gave his word and then went back on it.

  It was after ten o’clock when Don entered the café called The Dew Drop Inn and ordered a cup of coffee. The place was empty. He had considered going to the dining room at the hotel but had changed his mind. It was well past breakfast time and he didn’t want to seem presumptuous by appearing there at such a late hour.

  He had just received his coffee and was pouring liberal amounts of cream into it when a girl who had been sitting at the counter came over to him. She looked about nineteen and smiled as she approached.

  “You wouldn’t be Don Jordan by any chance, would you?”

  Don blushed slightly. “Yes, I am.”

  “I’m Jennifer Simons, Lew Simons’ daughter. Has Dad spoken to you yet?”

  “He has,” Don said. “He woke me up about an hour ago. If it wasn’t for him I’d probably still be sleeping.”

  “Do you mind if I sit down?” When Don nodded and gestured toward the seat across from him, she joined him. “I have to apologize for my father. He’s very impulsive at times. Stubborn’s more like it. I hope you didn’t get the wrong impression of him.”

  “Well, I…I must admit, he seemed a little overbearing.”

  “That’s Dad all right, but he doesn’t mean anything by it. It’s just his way. When he heard you were coming to town, he was just like a kid with a new toy. I’m afraid he’s rather banking on you playing for the Blades.” She looked at him searchingly as though trying to measure the effect of her words.

  Don sighed. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint him. I didn’t come here to play hockey. I came because I had a job offered to me. I’ve quit hockey for good.”

  The girl looked disappointed. “I was afraid of that. Did you tell Dad?”

  Don laughed. “About a dozen times, but it was like trying to talk to a fence. He seemed convinced that I’m going to play and no amount of explanation on my part seemed to have any effect on him.”

  “I hate to say this, Don, but you represent a kind of salvation to my father. I know that’s a terrible thing to have hung around your neck when you’ve just arrived in town. The trouble is that hockey means everything to Dad. He lives and breathes it every day of the year. Even in the summer, he’s thinking about what he’s going to do the next fall with the team.”

  “It sounds like a real obsession,” Don said. “I can’t say I blame him though. I love the game myself. Been playing it since I was about five years old.”

  “In the last few years things have been going badly for him. The team hasn’t been performing well and the crowds have dropped off. There’s a rumor that the hockey executive is thinking of replacing father. I don’t think it’s going to happen, but I shudder to think what that would do to him.”

  “Was your father coaching when they won the Canadian National Title?” Don asked.

  She nodded. “That’s just it, nobody remembers that any more. They want results now and it looks as though this year might be his last if something doesn’t happen.” She paused and looked down. “That’s where you come in. You could help the team a lot from what I’ve heard and you’d be doing a great favor to my father at the same time.”

  Don was silent for a moment. He was annoyed. It wasn’t fair, he knew that, but he should have known. If only he could have come to this town anonymously. It would have made everything so much simpler.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish I could help, but I can’t. I’ve got good reasons for not playing hockey. If I decided to play, I wouldn’t be playing here, I’d be in Saskatoon.”

  She made a move to leave, but he stopped her. “I said I wouldn’t play — but maybe I could help in some other way. Maybe I could help him with coaching, something like that.”

  She smiled at him. “Thanks Don. I’ll tell Dad. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

  “Perhaps I had better tell him myself. After all, he still thinks I might be playing for him. I want to set him straight on that score first.”

  “There’s a game next Saturday night. Maybe I’ll see you then?” she said.

  He watched her as she walked away from him. He liked her. There was something straightforward and honest about her. He felt worried about Lew Simons though. It gave him a queer feeling in the pit of his stomach to think how important he had become to one man and that he could well be the undoing of that man.

  He paid for his coffee and walked back to the hotel. Tomorrow he started work at his new job. He tried to put everything else out of his mind.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The Pioneer Lumber Company was a short three blocks from the hotel. Don walked the distance in five minutes. He felt somewhat like he did just before a big game. There were butterflies in his stomach and his heart pounded a little. It was the first permanent job he had ever had and it was important for him to do well. He had always taken pride in everything he had done and this job would be no exception.

  Jess Abernathy was just opening up when Don appeared. He was a short, stocky man with iron grey hair — a man who looked as though he was used to giving orders and having them obeyed. When he smiled, an unexpected softness replaced a normally dour expression.

  “Well, you must be Don Jordan,” he said, extending his hand. “I’ve been expecting you. I’m Jess Abernathy.”

  “How do you do, sir,” Don said, shaking his hand. “I’ve looked forward to meeting you.”

  “Come into the office and I’ll explain your job to you so you can get started.”

  Don followed him into a tiny office just off the main counter of the store. He was impressed by the obvious effort on someone’s part to make the store pleasant and attractive. This was no ordinary small town lumber store with inch thick dust on the paint cans and last year’s calendar on the wall. Someone obviously cared and Don suspected that someone was Jess Abernathy.

  “Have a seat, Don,” he said, taking some newspapers off his chair before sitting down. “How’s your mother these days?”

  “She’s fine, thank you sir. She said to give you her regards.”

  Jess Abernathy smiled and regarded Don
reflectively. “You know, you remind me of your father sitting there. I can still remember when he first came to me for a job. I turned him down the first time, but he was a persistent fellow. I finally had to hire him just to get him off my back. I never regretted it though. He turned out to be one of the best men I ever had.”

  Don smiled. “I’ll try to live up to him,” he said.

  “I’m sure you will. Now, I understand you haven’t had any experience in a lumber yard. I believe you mentioned that on the phone the other night.”

  “No sir, I haven’t.”

  “Good. That means I can train you the way I want you — you won’t have to unlearn any bad habits. I imagine you are used to heavy work being a hockey player and all.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “You’ll be doing a lot of different things to begin with. I’ve got two other men working for me. They’ll show you the ropes. For the first few days you can just get the feel of the place by following them around and helping them when they need it. Okay?”

  Don nodded as Jess rose and led him out into the yard. Don squinted against the bright fall sun. He was beginning to like Jess Abernathy already.

  By the end of the week, Don knew his initial feelings about the job were right on target. He liked the job and he felt as though he was a part of the company. He liked the orderly, neat way in which it was run and the no-nonsense attitude of his boss.

  During the week he had been too tired to do anything after work but go for the occasional walk and email a few of his friends in Saskatoon. He had not turned out for the practices on Tuesday and Thursday and he had heard nothing from Lew Simons. A vague hope lingered in the back of his mind that perhaps Lew had seen the light and had given up on him, but he knew that was wishful thinking.

  On Saturday night he decided to take in the game. Despite the fact that he had no intentions of playing, he was still curious about the team and the caliber of hockey they played.

  The Fairmore arena was a large Quonset structure that had housed grain for five years before its intended use had been realized. The arena, in fact, had been built on the revenue received from the storing of the grain.

  Don sat along the boards across from the players’ bench and watched the opposition warm up. The arena had a capacity of about twelve hundred and less than half of the seats were occupied. When the home team appeared on the ice, there was a burst of cheering. They skated out led by their goalkeeper, dressed in white uniforms with blue trim. The crest on the front of their uniform spelled out the word BLADES and had the silhouette of a sword on it. Don had to admit that for a team that had occupied last place for the past few years, they looked impressive.

  Their opposition was a team from Rockview, a town fifty miles away. The two teams were in the same league, but while Fairmore had occupied the basement, Rockview had notched a place for itself at the top of the league. The Blades had not beaten Rockview in their last seven encounters and a restlessness amongst the crowd indicated that they were anxious to see an end to this dominance.

  When Lew Simons appeared from the dressing room followed by the trainer and began walking toward the player’s box, there were some catcalls from the spectators.

  “Hey Lew,” one old man who was sitting close to Don called out, “where are your skates, Lew? You’re going to need them before this night’s over.”

  Another man shouted, “Why don’t you hire a band, Lew? That way when you lose, they can play the Last Post for you.”

  A few minutes later the teams lined up along their blue lines for the singing of the National Anthem, then the referee blew his whistle and the game was about to start.

  “So you decided to come,” a voice beside him said and Don looked up into the face of Jennifer Simons. “What do you think of our fair team so far?”

  “Hello,” Don said. “They look impressive if that means anything. Let’s see if they can play as well as they look.”

  She sat down beside him and opened her program. “Well, here’s hoping,” she said, holding up her hand and crossing her fingers.

  The teams started cautiously, feeling each other out. After five minutes had elapsed, it became apparent which team was the stronger. The Rockview squad was a better balanced team and skated with more authority. Their passing too, was superior. Don allowed himself the luxury of wishing he was out on the ice to give the home team some help. It had always been hard for him to sit on the sidelines and watch.

  At the seven minute mark, a speedy Rockview winger got in behind the Fairmore defense, took a pass from his center man and beat the goalie with a twelve foot slap shot.

  There was some scattered cheering, but for the most part the place buzzed with discontent. The fans had supported their team for several years and had become accustomed to seeing them defeated — but it was a grudging acceptance. It wouldn’t be long before their fans began to get cynical in their frustration.

  The goal seemed to shake the confidence of the Fairmore team and their passing became more and more erratic with the Rockview team taking advantage at every point. By the time the first period was over, they had scored twice more and had barely missed on several other occasions. The Blades hadn’t been able to mount any kind of attack and were constantly on the defensive.

  “Poor Daddy,” Jennifer said. “He had such high hopes for tonight. This game is important to him. It could mean the difference between keeping some of the more loyal fans who have stuck with the team for so long and losing them altogether.”

  “The game isn’t over yet,” Don said. “If he can get them fired up enough, they could still come back.” He didn’t believe it himself but somehow felt compelled to cheer her up.

  Lew waved at them as he followed the team to the dressing room. “Has Dad contacted you about playing? I mean since you met him last week?”

  “No, he hasn’t. I have to admit I’m relieved he hasn’t. I hate to disappoint him.”

  “How’s the new job coming?”

  Relieved at having the subject changed, Don smiled over at her. “It’s really great. I enjoy working for Mr. Abernathy. He’s a good boss.”

  When the teams returned to the ice, Don observed the Fairmore squad. He had become adept at gauging a team’s attitude. He knew that whatever Lew had said to them had had no apparent effect. They had a look of defeat written all over them. The pattern of the game had been established and except for one dazzling play by number 7 of the Blades, the game came to a predictable end. The score was six to one.

  “Who’s number seven?” Don asked as the teams skated to the dressing room.

  “That’s Gary Ackerman. He’s the golden-haired boy of the Blades — or at least he was until he started drinking.”

  “That was a nice bit of stick handling,” Don said, “even if it was in a losing cause.”

  Late in the third period, Ackerman had picked up the puck in his own zone, faked a pass to his winger and then broke up the middle, split the defense and scored with a blistering wrist shot from twenty feet out.

  “If he could do that a little more often, it would sure give the team a lift.” They had begun moving toward the exit and Don instinctively took Jennifer’s arm.

  “Well, he’s got his troubles. If he could stay away from the bottle, he could be an outstanding player according to Dad. Trouble is he shows up to practice half stoned, when he does show up. I guess the little success he’s had went to his head.”

  “Success?”

  “Or lack of it. He played junior a few years ago. Everybody said he was going to make the NHL. Nobody seems to know what happened. He’s pretty independent and doesn’t say much.”

  As they walked out of the arena, Don pulled his collar up and glanced at the sky. It had cooled off considerably and it had started to snow.

  “I’ve got my car,” Jennifer said. “Can I give you a lift back to the hotel?”

  Don grinned. “Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”

  They sat in front of the hotel watching the snowflakes
drift by the windshield. It was coming down heavily and already the ground was sprinkled with a layer of white.

  “It looks like we’re in for it,” she said. “Although at this time of year, I don’t think it’ll stay.” She sighed and turned to Don. “I wish I could change your mind about coming out and playing for the team.”

  He looked over at her. By the light of the street lamp she looked a little pale, a little vulnerable and was obviously worried about her father. He hated to disappoint her.

  “My offer to help with the team is still open,” he said. “I think I can help a lot. I could see a lot of mistakes out there tonight.”

  “I’m sure Dad means to contact you soon. If he doesn’t, I’ll let him know.”

  As he was about to leave, she put her hand on his arm. “I’ve got the car tomorrow. Can I show you some of our fascinating countryside?”

  “I’d like that,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I own a few acres around here somewhere and I haven’t seen them yet. Maybe we could drive out and have a look around.”

  “I’ll pick you up around one,” she said.

  He watched her drive away before turning toward the hotel. It had been an interesting evening. He looked forward to seeing her again.

  CHAPTER 5

  When Don awoke the next morning, he looked out the window and was surprised to see only a sprinkling of snow on the ground. A bright sun shone in a cloudless sky and already, here and there, the snow was beginning to melt. It was a perfect autumn day, he thought as he leaped out of bed, and he had no intentions of wasting it.

  He dressed and went down to breakfast. By the time he had finished and got outside, the snow was all but gone. He was in the mood for walking and set out in the direction of the hills. Just as he got to the edge of town and was about to ascend a hill that overlooked it, he heard someone call his name. He turned and saw Jess Abernathy approaching.

  “Good morning,” Jess greeted him. “Going for your Sunday stroll?”

  “I thought I would have a look at the town from the hill,” he said. “From what I’ve heard, it’s quite a view.”