Author's Note: Not as long as I had hoped it would be, but here it is.
Before the Ducks, I used to like thinking I belonged in war. There existed some sort of challenge and fascination behind it that I believed nobody else could see. I had been a solitary figure within a loud, rebellious boy's body.
And look where I am now. A young adult in the midst of bigger conflicts. I had wanted the feeling of war surging up and down my spine, as if the tremors in my body were an earthquake rampaging in and over the earth itself. I realize now that I hadn't wanted to be getting into this by myself. But I am; at least, physically, I was alone.
"How're you feeling, Hall?" Lieutenant Groby said from behind me, sounding bright and ready.
"Nervous," I replied.
He laughed lightly. He was always chuckling at me, but I'm sure he didn't mean any harm by it; he did things for the good of the troops. "You'll be fine. Your team's right over there. Come on. I'll introduce you." He started in the direction of a group of about ten men who appeared to be my age, add or take a few months or years.
As we approached them, Lieutenant Groby yelled out in his commanding voice, "Men!"
I had been looking down at the gray and graveled take-off strip for the planes and jets. I wasn't the kind of person who took it easy when meeting others I didn't know.
"Damn, Jesse! You're here too?" I heard Portman call out in surprise.
My head snapped up, catching the glare of the sun in my eyes. Yes, this was definitely my team. I was speechless.
"I take it you all know one another?" Lieutenant Groby asked, just as astonished as I was.
Charlie stepped forward and nodded, holding out his hand to me. "Welcome back."
I grinned at the sound of those two words. I never thought "welcome back" could feel so refreshing. "Thanks, Conway," I said, shaking his hand.
A loud, ringing chorus of familiar voices greeted me, and I drowned in their brotherly hugs and handshakes.
Rain began to fall; it seemed almost as if this had been planned. I felt the drops of water at first softly hitting my skin, and the drops, in a matter of seconds, descended from the sky in buckets. They poured mercilessly from the clouds, stinging my arms.
"Beautiful day, huh?" Guy commented sarcastically as we rushed into the building to wait for the plane.
I shrugged, readjusting the light backpack on my left shoulder. "At least we got the Ducks, man."
Guy looked around at the other guys. "Except for Connie and Julie."
I frowned. "What are they doing?"
"Connie's teaching some hockey stuff over in Minneapolis. Last time I checked, Julie was majoring in English Lit. and managing a high school hockey team."
I placed my hands in my pockets. "I've missed a lot. Why didn't we ever keep up with the e-mail thing after those couple years?"
"Not sure. I think most of us were just busy. You know, the usual excuse."
I nodded in understanding. "So, what's really been going on? More hockey stuff, I'm guessing?"
"Basically. Goldberg and Dwayne hung together and opened up an ice rink in Texas. That went pretty well. And Averman, well, he got a job teaching geometry. Charlie went off to play for the Anaheim Ducks."
"I should have guessed," I laughed.
"That's Charlie for you," Guy said.
"What about Banks?"
"Same as Charlie. They stuck together after college with Portman and Fulton. Russ went back to L.A. and opened up a shop."
"For hockey?"
"You know it."
I shook my head. "We're all really obsessed with hockey. I just realized that."
Guy grinned. "You're so slow, Jesse."
"Yeah, yeah." My gaze rested on a taller Ken and Luis chatting in the corner with the other guys.
"What about the Cuban and the figure skater?" I joked.
"Hockey in Miami and hockey in San Francisco. What else would they do?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. Speed skating and Olympic figure skating?"
"Same difference." I heard Guy sigh. "This is going to be one heck of a ride," he commented, as we made our way to the group of guys.
"Always is."
Inwardly, I sighed as well. War was going to nerve-wracking. They tell us that all we really have to truly worry about is the protection of our nation's future, but we all know that we're also thinking about death.
We're never sure how we may die or if we'll even return home one day. The unpredictability of it wasn't at all soothing. The thought that I could be coming back within a year with only one and a half of my legs remaining wasn't what I planned to order from the never-ending menu of war souvenirs.
I never believed this could happen with the Ducks, either.
Don't ask me how all of this came to be. What are the chances of a hockey team reuniting for a war with the outside world, the one that we could be playing a good game of hockey with right now instead of holding up the ends of our guns on our shoulders and pulling the trigger... instead of igniting bombs in their homes? It could be pure coincidence, a miracle. It could be fate, if you believe in that. As for my own opinion, I think it's because we all wanted to fly together again. After all, we are the Mighty Ducks. This was the real thing.
Before the Ducks, I used to like thinking I belonged in war. There existed some sort of challenge and fascination behind it that I believed nobody else could see. I had been a solitary figure within a loud, rebellious boy's body.
And look where I am now. A young adult in the midst of bigger conflicts. I had wanted the feeling of war surging up and down my spine, as if the tremors in my body were an earthquake rampaging in and over the earth itself. I realize now that I hadn't wanted to be getting into this by myself. But I am; at least, physically, I was alone.
"How're you feeling, Hall?" Lieutenant Groby said from behind me, sounding bright and ready.
"Nervous," I replied.
He laughed lightly. He was always chuckling at me, but I'm sure he didn't mean any harm by it; he did things for the good of the troops. "You'll be fine. Your team's right over there. Come on. I'll introduce you." He started in the direction of a group of about ten men who appeared to be my age, add or take a few months or years.
As we approached them, Lieutenant Groby yelled out in his commanding voice, "Men!"
I had been looking down at the gray and graveled take-off strip for the planes and jets. I wasn't the kind of person who took it easy when meeting others I didn't know.
"Damn, Jesse! You're here too?" I heard Portman call out in surprise.
My head snapped up, catching the glare of the sun in my eyes. Yes, this was definitely my team. I was speechless.
"I take it you all know one another?" Lieutenant Groby asked, just as astonished as I was.
Charlie stepped forward and nodded, holding out his hand to me. "Welcome back."
I grinned at the sound of those two words. I never thought "welcome back" could feel so refreshing. "Thanks, Conway," I said, shaking his hand.
A loud, ringing chorus of familiar voices greeted me, and I drowned in their brotherly hugs and handshakes.
Rain began to fall; it seemed almost as if this had been planned. I felt the drops of water at first softly hitting my skin, and the drops, in a matter of seconds, descended from the sky in buckets. They poured mercilessly from the clouds, stinging my arms.
"Beautiful day, huh?" Guy commented sarcastically as we rushed into the building to wait for the plane.
I shrugged, readjusting the light backpack on my left shoulder. "At least we got the Ducks, man."
Guy looked around at the other guys. "Except for Connie and Julie."
I frowned. "What are they doing?"
"Connie's teaching some hockey stuff over in Minneapolis. Last time I checked, Julie was majoring in English Lit. and managing a high school hockey team."
I placed my hands in my pockets. "I've missed a lot. Why didn't we ever keep up with the e-mail thing after those couple years?"
"Not sure. I think most of us were just busy. You know, the usual excuse."
I nodded in understanding. "So, what's really been going on? More hockey stuff, I'm guessing?"
"Basically. Goldberg and Dwayne hung together and opened up an ice rink in Texas. That went pretty well. And Averman, well, he got a job teaching geometry. Charlie went off to play for the Anaheim Ducks."
"I should have guessed," I laughed.
"That's Charlie for you," Guy said.
"What about Banks?"
"Same as Charlie. They stuck together after college with Portman and Fulton. Russ went back to L.A. and opened up a shop."
"For hockey?"
"You know it."
I shook my head. "We're all really obsessed with hockey. I just realized that."
Guy grinned. "You're so slow, Jesse."
"Yeah, yeah." My gaze rested on a taller Ken and Luis chatting in the corner with the other guys.
"What about the Cuban and the figure skater?" I joked.
"Hockey in Miami and hockey in San Francisco. What else would they do?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. Speed skating and Olympic figure skating?"
"Same difference." I heard Guy sigh. "This is going to be one heck of a ride," he commented, as we made our way to the group of guys.
"Always is."
Inwardly, I sighed as well. War was going to nerve-wracking. They tell us that all we really have to truly worry about is the protection of our nation's future, but we all know that we're also thinking about death.
We're never sure how we may die or if we'll even return home one day. The unpredictability of it wasn't at all soothing. The thought that I could be coming back within a year with only one and a half of my legs remaining wasn't what I planned to order from the never-ending menu of war souvenirs.
I never believed this could happen with the Ducks, either.
Don't ask me how all of this came to be. What are the chances of a hockey team reuniting for a war with the outside world, the one that we could be playing a good game of hockey with right now instead of holding up the ends of our guns on our shoulders and pulling the trigger... instead of igniting bombs in their homes? It could be pure coincidence, a miracle. It could be fate, if you believe in that. As for my own opinion, I think it's because we all wanted to fly together again. After all, we are the Mighty Ducks. This was the real thing.