"The Road is Long"
AUTHORS NOTE: I should probably clear up a few things in this story. It will be told primarily from the view of Adam, and takes place during the Ducks senior year at Eden Hall. It does not closely follow the movies, and is rather just my imagination in play. Note some differences: 1. Coach Orion is now the varsity coach, and 2. all players live in the dorms. Anything of familiarity belongs to Disney. Anything other characters belong to me. Warning: scenes of self injury and depression, read with caution. Thanks for taking the time to read, and please take a second to review!
"Adam, I'm so sorry. I hate being the one to break the news to you, but they felt I was the best one for the job." I looked at Bombay as he patted my shoulder comfortingly.
"When did it happen?" I asked, feeling like I was in a daze. The room spun around me, and I became very interested in a button that was about to fall of my shirt, anything to take my mind off the current situation.
"This morning, on his way to the airport, your father pulled out into traffic, and the car came out of nowhere. He—he was killed instantly," Bombay told me simply.
I could only nod as the blood began rushing to my head, my father was dead, he was gone, I felt sick, and alone. Absentmindedly, I played with the thread on my button, until it finally broke off, but I think I hit the ground before it did.
The next couple of weeks became a blur of memories that passed painfully slow for my mother and me. I had temporarily stopped going to school so I could stay with my mother who was obviously devastated. She was having a difficult time coping with the reality of the situation. I was supposed to be her shoulder to cry on I guess, but I had my own problems, and she found solace in friends anyways. I don't really remember crying at all, I kept everything inside of me, and tried to be strong for my mother in her fragile condition when she needed it. The last thing I wanted to do was break down and cry in front of my mother. I didn't even play much hockey during that time.
Eventually, things gradually became a little better. I was back in school doggedly trying to catch up and get back into shape. I was to busy and to tired to think about the past month, although the school guidance counselor kept telling me I should come and see him at anytime, claiming it would help. I politely told him no, as I thought to myself that nothing was going to help.
But as hard as I tried, I couldn't avoid the fact that my father was gone. Even without him as the driving force of my hockey career, I was still under enormous pressure. After all, it was my senior year and I had to impress college coaches in order to even be considered for scholarships. During my first game back, I just couldn't seem to hold my concentration. For the first time in years, I was actually nervous and I had no idea why.
"Adam? Hello? Earth to Adam," somebody was tapping my shoulder with a stick.
"Huh?" I looked up to see Charlie shaking his head at me, "The game is about to start," he told me pointedly.
"Oh, right," I looked around the room to realize that the locker-room had already cleared. "Sorry about that," I mumbled, embarrassed.
I followed Charlie out onto the ice, and tried to get my mind into the game. I skated a couple laps and guided a puck around trying to get my composure back.
"Nice shot, Adam," Julie called as I deked a shot around her.
The whistle blew and the team gathered around Orion as he called out the starting lineup. Feeling somewhat relieved that I didn't have to start, I sat down on the bench, trying my best to concentrate on the game, but I absentmindedly found myself searching for my father in the stands. When I realized what I was doing, I put my head down, fighting back the urge to break down right then and there. I was oblivious to anything that was going on in the game.
"Banks change it up!" Coach Orion gave me a tap on my shoulder. I took a deep breath as I hopped over the boards and got into the game. Skating into the corner, I and tried to grab the lose puck, but I wasn't fast enough getting it passed off, and before I knew, it I was checked hard into the boards and went down.
My teammates stood up on the bench yelling to the refs, but Coach Orion told them to quiet down, when they all realized I was hurt. I hadn't moved. The pain in my body was excruciating. I tried to sit up, but pain immediately shot up my leg. "You OK, Adam?" Guy stood over me, concerned. "Get some help!" he yelled to the bench.
A trainer and Coach came onto the ice and began to look me over. I was dimly aware of what was going on, as they managed to get me off the ice and into the locker room. "I'm sorry Adam, but I'm afraid your going to have to go to the hospital," Mr. Anderson, the trainer, told me gravely as he examined my ankle, which was starting to swell and bruise.
I could only nod as I fought back tears, and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. "Things could get worse," I thought as I tried to ignore the throbbing pain in my leg. Before I knew it I was in the hospital in a daze, where I received a shot and suddenly began to feel very sleepy.
"Adam? Adam? Where is he?" I was could hear my mother's worried voice as I listened to it mix in with the doctor's voices.
"Mrs. Banks? I'm Dr. Larson. Your son has a broken ankle and a fractured shin bone. It is nothing serious, and luckily he won't require surgery, but it will take 6-8 weeks for it to heal. Hockey will be out of the question for quite sometime, however. He must wait for it to completely heal or else he could risk damaging it permanently."
I heard all of this and turned away from his mother's face as silent tears fell out of my eyes. As the doctor began to work on my ankle I closed my eyes and dozed off.
"How are you feeling, honey?" My mother asked me, with concern in her voice, after I had woken up.
"Alright I guess.
"Are you in any pain?" She asked.
"Not really."
"Good. We are just waiting for the physical therapist and then I can take you home."
As if that was the cue, a blonde haired woman walked into the room carrying a pair of crutches. "Hello Adam, I am Dr. Thomas." She shook my hand then helped me sit up. I groaned as I moved my ankle, it was in a cast that went from my shin to my toes. Dr. Thomas handed me a pair of crutches and I slid them under my arms.
"Have you used crutches before?" she asked.
"Unfortunately, yes." I thought of my past hockey injuries.
"Alright, after you try them out, you are free to go home, and in a few weeks I will be seeing you for rehab."
I nodded as I stood up to put my full weight onto the crutches. Each time I swung my injured foot forward pain shot up my leg, but I wasn't going to say that it hurt as I gritted my teeth. Dr. Thomas seemed satisfied, however, and told me that I could finally go home. She also gave me a prescription for pain medication. A nurse eventally came with a wheelchair, and wheeled me out of the hospital where I waited for my mother to bring the car around.
The ride home was mostly me staring out the window and my mother talking to me. "The doctor says that you should try and stay off your ankle as much as possible, and keep it elevated whenever you are sitting down. I'll stop and get your medication, and then we can go home."
I sighed and tried to doze off. "We're here, honey." I opened my eyes and stretched, trying to ignore the throbbing in my ankle. As soon as I got into the house I took some painkillers, and slowly made my way upstairs to my bedroom. I shut the door behind me, and then collapsed onto my bed, tossing the crutches onto the floor. Tears began to well up in my eyes, but this time I freely let them fall. I cried for the loss of my father, my injury, and life in general. After awhile, I realized I was tired, and feel asleep.