Author's Note (Mary): I don't normally procrastinate, but this is a long
chapter. After this chapter, the plot is ours.
Author's Note and Review Replies (Chelsea): Lalala...I'm a procrastinator too...but that's okay...because no one cares...
Sarah- Yes...our poor, poor little Charlie...Thanks for the review! ^_~
Rachel- Oh, yes, teenage life is ever so joyous. We're so blunt in our requests, huh? Lol...^_^ Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you like the chapter!
Banksiesbabe99- I'm glad you enjoyed the "tension." Hee hee. I was shooting for tense. ^_~ *feels uber-proud* Aww! You're so nice to me. *huggles* I'm honored that you feel I write Charlie good...I think I would cry if I didn't...lol...it's not for a lack of practice. Rah for making you hate people! Lol...we're good at that, huh? ^_~ Heh...yeah...thanks for reviewing, and enjoy the chapter!
-Chapter 7-
Charlie's POV
Fulton and I sat at a table at the food court inside the Mall of America munching on our fourth hot-dog-on-a-stick. I grabbed a garbage pail and shoved all of the empty wrappers and cartons into it.
"Do you want anymore fries?" I asked Fulton.
Fulton groaned and shook his head. I had to agree. I was stuffed. Maybe this food isn't so good for the body. At least it tasted better then the café food that they served at Eden Hall. Stupid traitors. They picked the Ice Nazi instead of me.
I still can't believe it. It's just like it was back in pee-wees. When Fulton and I were the only ones to join Bombay. Except this time it's the opposite. We were right back then, and we are right now. Apparently they haven't learned a thing.
"Me neither. Hey, you want to take another ride on the coaster?" I asked hopeful. We've been on it six times already. I know it's just for kids, but for one day I would just like to forget everything and toss my worries to the wind.
"Nah," Fulton decided, clutching his stomach. "Six times is enough for me."
"Yeah," I agreed. "Great, huh?"
Fulton smiled at me. I leaned back in my chair and laced my fingers behind my head.
This is the life. No school, no parents, and best of all, absolutely no Ice Nazi. "Sure beats school, huh?"
Fulton didn't answer. I wanted this day to be as relaxing as possible. If you call going around the viper six times relaxing. "Tomorrow will be more fun," I promised even though I couldn't think of anything at the moment.
Fulton leaned forward and became serious. "Yeah, but ... after that. I mean, we can't do this forever."
I knew this conversation was coming. Fulton was also the serious one. Especially when Portman wasn't with him.
"I know," I reassured him. "I've got it all figured out. "I figure we go to public school for a while, then go play junior hockey in Canada. You only have to be seventeen to play."
"Charlie, I don't know if I can make juniors."
Fulton must be out of his mind. We're the best two players on the team. Even better then snot-nosed Banksie because he'll never survive in juniors. Fulton and I, and possibly Guy, are the only people on the teams gritty enough to last in major juniors. I've seen some Western Hockey League teams play before. And they play it rough. I can handle it. And if I can handle it, Fulton could handle it. All we need to do is to stick together because everyone else doesn't seem care anymore.
"Are you kidding? With your shot?" I asked.
Fulton sighed and took a deep breath. "I mean I don't know if I want to play hockey for the rest of my life."
I was dumbfounded. Not want to play hockey? Who wouldn't want to play hockey for the rest of their lives? It's all I've ever wanted to do. And up until now, that's all Fulton wanted to do too. Or at least that's what I thought.
"You're going back," I said realizing what he was saying.
"We can deal. The Ducks are there," he told me.
I can deal. Like hell I can deal. What's waiting for me back at school? Snot-nosed snobs? Mean teachers? Lots of homework? Being pushed around by the Varsity jerks? Ordered around like slaves by Ice Nazi? I think I'll pass.
"Just go, then. It's all right," I said, not wanting to look at him. He hesitated and I couldn't take it anymore. "Just go! I told you I don't need you! Will you just get the hell out of here?"
Fulton stared at me, stared at his feet and walked away. Just like everyone else. I walked to my house. I walked in and surprising my mother wasn't there. Neither was John for some reason. The only thing my mother left was a note.
'Charlie
Gone shopping. See you at the game. I'll be working late. Supper in the microwave.
Mom'
I tossed the note in the garbage and looked what mystery meat my mother had left in the microwave. I peaked in and saw that it was all eaten. John must have eaten it before he left. I wasn't even hungry. I tossed the dish in the sink.
I looked at the clock. "Eight thirty," I mumbled.
For the first time I felt this eerie feeling come over me. The game. For the first time in years, I wasn't at the game with the rest of the team. It feels weird being by myself with all this extra time on my hands. All this time to spend by myself.
I walked over to the answering machine to check to see if there are any messages from me. It was blinking, and I pressed the button.
"You have five new messages," the automated computer voice said.
I waited. "Your first message is from 1 – 798 – 2354."
"Hello Charlie," Gordon's voice said through the machine. "It's Gordon. I've called three times this week. I just want to let you know that I'm here for you."
"Yeah right," I mumbled.
"Your second message is from 1 – 345 – 4514."
"Hello Casey. It's John. Some old friends are in town for a bit. I've gone over to their place to catch up on old times. I'll be back late."
Well, that's one good thing. No more John.
"Your third message is from 1 – 345 – 5132."
"Hello Cassandra? It's me. Ted. I was wondering if you'd like to go get some coffee with me and catch up on old times. Nice talking to you again. It's been a long time."
I quickly jotted down the number and slipped it into my pocket with the simple inscription of Ice Nazi.
"Your fourth message is from 1 – 345 – 6234."
"Hello Charlie. Fulton calling. I was wondering if you would like to go to the movies tomorrow night with me and the guys."
I could hear some whispering in the background.
"We really miss you here. We'll be at Joe's Pizza after the game if you want to meet us there."
I doubt that they really missed me. After all, no one else stood up to the Ice Nazi. I'll think I'll pass tonight.
"Your fifth message is from 1 – 345 – 9331."
'Hello John. This is Sandy calling. I want to talk to you about last night. Call me after seven."
I pressed delete on the machine, erasing the messages. I grabbed my coat and walked to Hans's place. It isn't as long as walk as it used to be since my mother and John bought an apartment together.
I walked to the shop and stood there at the door debating whether I should go in or not. I know that once I first started working there, Hans told me to think of this place as my own and to not bother knocking. But it feels different now.
Hans was sick and I didn't want to disturb him if he was already asleep. Then I heard the radio.
"Moreau passes it up to Germaine. And he is checked hard to the ice as the Cardinals go on the attack. These Warriors can't seem to get anything going tonight. Even with the late addition of Fulton Reed into the lineup, this team still lacks the grit and killer instinct that it showed in years past, and even in the Blake game last Friday night."
I stood there and peaked in the window. Hans wasn't in his favorite chair. But the kitchen light was on.
"Point of fact folks. Charlie Conway is a healthy scratch tonight. There are unconfirmed reports that he has left the team. However, when we asked Coach Orion about this particular issue, he declined to comment which leaves for more questions about the teams chemistry, both on and off the ice."
Hans came back into the living room with a cup of tea and sat down, turning up the volume. I decided to walk in.
"You're mother called," he told me, not even looking up. How he knows that it's only me, I'll never know. "She's been looking for you."
"I'm right here," I said.
"Your Warriors are having a difficult time," he said, even though I'm sure he already knew that I already aware of that.
"They're not my Warriors," I said glumly.
Hans nodded.
"I see," he said pulling up the blanket higher.
He coughed roughly. I wish he would hire a nurse; but he's stubborn. My mother tells me that I get it from him. And I got everything else from Bombay. She also said that I was a lot like my father. I once asked her if that was a bad thing, and she said that she didn't think that it was. Even though they aren't together anymore.
We listened to the rest of the second period. The Warriors were down four to one against the Oak Crest Cardinals.
"It sounds like the team needs you," he told me.
They do need me. I know that. I just wish they would show it sometimes. Rather than pretending like I'll always be there to pick them up when things turn bleak.
"They don't need me," I said bitterly. "They need a new coach."
Hans sighed. "Coach Orion won't let you just skate by," Hans explained. "He demands more. He wants it because he knows it is there inside of you. Just like Gordon did. He needs you to lead."
That is the most absorbed thing that I have ever heard.
"How can I lead when he takes away my C Hans?" I asked appealing. "I was the captain."
"It's only a letter, Charlie," Hans told me.
He's wrong. It isn't just a letter. Not to me. It's the only thing that I had left. I lost Bombay, I lost the Ducks, and now I lost my C. I've lost everything that has ever defined me as a person.
Hans reached into a drawer beside his chair and pulled out a handful of Cs. "Here. Have one. I have hundreds."
I was taken aback. He's treating it like a joke. Like I'm a joke.
"Don't make fun of me, Hans. It's not the same."
"He took away the letter, Charlie," he said, trying to make me understand. He sounds like Bombay when he talks like that. "He did not take what was underneath."
"What does that mean?"
"Under the C is you. Charlie Conway."
"Yeah. So?"
Hans leaned back and sighed expansively. Then he looked thoughtful.
"So just be yourself, Charlie. Be the boy on the pond, loving the game, learning to fly. Be the boy who became a leader and held the Ducks together through thick and thin. Now go be with your friends. You are the heart of the team."
I just stared at him. I need to think by myself for a while.
"I've gotta walk. I'll see you later, Hans."
I walked out the door, but not before I hear Hans say, "Goodbye, Charlie."
I didn't know where to go from there. I walked for what seemed like hours. I walked to Joe's Pizza and looked inside. Sure enough, the Ducks were all there. Laughing and having a good time. Even though they had just taken a beating from the Cardinals.
But here they were, sitting and laughing like nothing is wrong. They don't miss me. Not one bit. Everyone is making jokes and smiling. No one seems to care that I'm not there.
Some friends.
I walked around in Minneapolis Central Park for hours when I spotted John. With another women. Kissing another women. My stepfather was having an affair.
I'm not sure if I was happy or mad about this. But before I had a chance to digest it all, I felt like I was sinking. Like something has gone wrong. Very wrong. I wanted to throw up. But I couldn't. All I could do was run all the way to Mickey's Dining Car.
I walked in the door. The place was pretty much empty. It was almost time to close. My mother was sitting there, and she looked like she had been crying.
"Mom?"
She turned around and sighed. She stood up and put her arms around me.
"Hans...passed away."
How can that be? I was just talking to him a few hours ago...
"What?"
"It was his time to go."
She wiped away a few tear and grabbed her purse.
"Let's go," she said. I followed her out to the car. I was hoping to spring the news about John's infidelity and hopefully convince her to leave him...but for some reason, I fell silent.
When we got home, John still was nowhere to be found. Mom and I said little to each other, but before I was about to go to bed, she said, "I know you two aren't talking and you're shutting him out of your life right now, but Gordon needs to know."
I stared at her. But she persisted. "Charlie, he's still a part of you. Just call him."
She handed me the phone. I dialed the number and walked into my room.
"Hello. You've reached Gordon Bombay. If you'll leave your name, number, and a brief message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible."
"Hans is dead," I managed to choke out.
My mother knocked on the door. "Did you phone him?" she inquired.
"I left a message," I said, handing her the phone.
She closed the door and turned off the light. I closed my eyes and all I saw was my last conversation with Hans. My eyes flew open, filled with tears. I didn't get the chance to say goodbye. And now it's too late. And for the first time in my life, I realized that I'm alone in this world. All alone.
Author's Note and Review Replies (Chelsea): Lalala...I'm a procrastinator too...but that's okay...because no one cares...
Sarah- Yes...our poor, poor little Charlie...Thanks for the review! ^_~
Rachel- Oh, yes, teenage life is ever so joyous. We're so blunt in our requests, huh? Lol...^_^ Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you like the chapter!
Banksiesbabe99- I'm glad you enjoyed the "tension." Hee hee. I was shooting for tense. ^_~ *feels uber-proud* Aww! You're so nice to me. *huggles* I'm honored that you feel I write Charlie good...I think I would cry if I didn't...lol...it's not for a lack of practice. Rah for making you hate people! Lol...we're good at that, huh? ^_~ Heh...yeah...thanks for reviewing, and enjoy the chapter!
-Chapter 7-
Charlie's POV
Fulton and I sat at a table at the food court inside the Mall of America munching on our fourth hot-dog-on-a-stick. I grabbed a garbage pail and shoved all of the empty wrappers and cartons into it.
"Do you want anymore fries?" I asked Fulton.
Fulton groaned and shook his head. I had to agree. I was stuffed. Maybe this food isn't so good for the body. At least it tasted better then the café food that they served at Eden Hall. Stupid traitors. They picked the Ice Nazi instead of me.
I still can't believe it. It's just like it was back in pee-wees. When Fulton and I were the only ones to join Bombay. Except this time it's the opposite. We were right back then, and we are right now. Apparently they haven't learned a thing.
"Me neither. Hey, you want to take another ride on the coaster?" I asked hopeful. We've been on it six times already. I know it's just for kids, but for one day I would just like to forget everything and toss my worries to the wind.
"Nah," Fulton decided, clutching his stomach. "Six times is enough for me."
"Yeah," I agreed. "Great, huh?"
Fulton smiled at me. I leaned back in my chair and laced my fingers behind my head.
This is the life. No school, no parents, and best of all, absolutely no Ice Nazi. "Sure beats school, huh?"
Fulton didn't answer. I wanted this day to be as relaxing as possible. If you call going around the viper six times relaxing. "Tomorrow will be more fun," I promised even though I couldn't think of anything at the moment.
Fulton leaned forward and became serious. "Yeah, but ... after that. I mean, we can't do this forever."
I knew this conversation was coming. Fulton was also the serious one. Especially when Portman wasn't with him.
"I know," I reassured him. "I've got it all figured out. "I figure we go to public school for a while, then go play junior hockey in Canada. You only have to be seventeen to play."
"Charlie, I don't know if I can make juniors."
Fulton must be out of his mind. We're the best two players on the team. Even better then snot-nosed Banksie because he'll never survive in juniors. Fulton and I, and possibly Guy, are the only people on the teams gritty enough to last in major juniors. I've seen some Western Hockey League teams play before. And they play it rough. I can handle it. And if I can handle it, Fulton could handle it. All we need to do is to stick together because everyone else doesn't seem care anymore.
"Are you kidding? With your shot?" I asked.
Fulton sighed and took a deep breath. "I mean I don't know if I want to play hockey for the rest of my life."
I was dumbfounded. Not want to play hockey? Who wouldn't want to play hockey for the rest of their lives? It's all I've ever wanted to do. And up until now, that's all Fulton wanted to do too. Or at least that's what I thought.
"You're going back," I said realizing what he was saying.
"We can deal. The Ducks are there," he told me.
I can deal. Like hell I can deal. What's waiting for me back at school? Snot-nosed snobs? Mean teachers? Lots of homework? Being pushed around by the Varsity jerks? Ordered around like slaves by Ice Nazi? I think I'll pass.
"Just go, then. It's all right," I said, not wanting to look at him. He hesitated and I couldn't take it anymore. "Just go! I told you I don't need you! Will you just get the hell out of here?"
Fulton stared at me, stared at his feet and walked away. Just like everyone else. I walked to my house. I walked in and surprising my mother wasn't there. Neither was John for some reason. The only thing my mother left was a note.
'Charlie
Gone shopping. See you at the game. I'll be working late. Supper in the microwave.
Mom'
I tossed the note in the garbage and looked what mystery meat my mother had left in the microwave. I peaked in and saw that it was all eaten. John must have eaten it before he left. I wasn't even hungry. I tossed the dish in the sink.
I looked at the clock. "Eight thirty," I mumbled.
For the first time I felt this eerie feeling come over me. The game. For the first time in years, I wasn't at the game with the rest of the team. It feels weird being by myself with all this extra time on my hands. All this time to spend by myself.
I walked over to the answering machine to check to see if there are any messages from me. It was blinking, and I pressed the button.
"You have five new messages," the automated computer voice said.
I waited. "Your first message is from 1 – 798 – 2354."
"Hello Charlie," Gordon's voice said through the machine. "It's Gordon. I've called three times this week. I just want to let you know that I'm here for you."
"Yeah right," I mumbled.
"Your second message is from 1 – 345 – 4514."
"Hello Casey. It's John. Some old friends are in town for a bit. I've gone over to their place to catch up on old times. I'll be back late."
Well, that's one good thing. No more John.
"Your third message is from 1 – 345 – 5132."
"Hello Cassandra? It's me. Ted. I was wondering if you'd like to go get some coffee with me and catch up on old times. Nice talking to you again. It's been a long time."
I quickly jotted down the number and slipped it into my pocket with the simple inscription of Ice Nazi.
"Your fourth message is from 1 – 345 – 6234."
"Hello Charlie. Fulton calling. I was wondering if you would like to go to the movies tomorrow night with me and the guys."
I could hear some whispering in the background.
"We really miss you here. We'll be at Joe's Pizza after the game if you want to meet us there."
I doubt that they really missed me. After all, no one else stood up to the Ice Nazi. I'll think I'll pass tonight.
"Your fifth message is from 1 – 345 – 9331."
'Hello John. This is Sandy calling. I want to talk to you about last night. Call me after seven."
I pressed delete on the machine, erasing the messages. I grabbed my coat and walked to Hans's place. It isn't as long as walk as it used to be since my mother and John bought an apartment together.
I walked to the shop and stood there at the door debating whether I should go in or not. I know that once I first started working there, Hans told me to think of this place as my own and to not bother knocking. But it feels different now.
Hans was sick and I didn't want to disturb him if he was already asleep. Then I heard the radio.
"Moreau passes it up to Germaine. And he is checked hard to the ice as the Cardinals go on the attack. These Warriors can't seem to get anything going tonight. Even with the late addition of Fulton Reed into the lineup, this team still lacks the grit and killer instinct that it showed in years past, and even in the Blake game last Friday night."
I stood there and peaked in the window. Hans wasn't in his favorite chair. But the kitchen light was on.
"Point of fact folks. Charlie Conway is a healthy scratch tonight. There are unconfirmed reports that he has left the team. However, when we asked Coach Orion about this particular issue, he declined to comment which leaves for more questions about the teams chemistry, both on and off the ice."
Hans came back into the living room with a cup of tea and sat down, turning up the volume. I decided to walk in.
"You're mother called," he told me, not even looking up. How he knows that it's only me, I'll never know. "She's been looking for you."
"I'm right here," I said.
"Your Warriors are having a difficult time," he said, even though I'm sure he already knew that I already aware of that.
"They're not my Warriors," I said glumly.
Hans nodded.
"I see," he said pulling up the blanket higher.
He coughed roughly. I wish he would hire a nurse; but he's stubborn. My mother tells me that I get it from him. And I got everything else from Bombay. She also said that I was a lot like my father. I once asked her if that was a bad thing, and she said that she didn't think that it was. Even though they aren't together anymore.
We listened to the rest of the second period. The Warriors were down four to one against the Oak Crest Cardinals.
"It sounds like the team needs you," he told me.
They do need me. I know that. I just wish they would show it sometimes. Rather than pretending like I'll always be there to pick them up when things turn bleak.
"They don't need me," I said bitterly. "They need a new coach."
Hans sighed. "Coach Orion won't let you just skate by," Hans explained. "He demands more. He wants it because he knows it is there inside of you. Just like Gordon did. He needs you to lead."
That is the most absorbed thing that I have ever heard.
"How can I lead when he takes away my C Hans?" I asked appealing. "I was the captain."
"It's only a letter, Charlie," Hans told me.
He's wrong. It isn't just a letter. Not to me. It's the only thing that I had left. I lost Bombay, I lost the Ducks, and now I lost my C. I've lost everything that has ever defined me as a person.
Hans reached into a drawer beside his chair and pulled out a handful of Cs. "Here. Have one. I have hundreds."
I was taken aback. He's treating it like a joke. Like I'm a joke.
"Don't make fun of me, Hans. It's not the same."
"He took away the letter, Charlie," he said, trying to make me understand. He sounds like Bombay when he talks like that. "He did not take what was underneath."
"What does that mean?"
"Under the C is you. Charlie Conway."
"Yeah. So?"
Hans leaned back and sighed expansively. Then he looked thoughtful.
"So just be yourself, Charlie. Be the boy on the pond, loving the game, learning to fly. Be the boy who became a leader and held the Ducks together through thick and thin. Now go be with your friends. You are the heart of the team."
I just stared at him. I need to think by myself for a while.
"I've gotta walk. I'll see you later, Hans."
I walked out the door, but not before I hear Hans say, "Goodbye, Charlie."
I didn't know where to go from there. I walked for what seemed like hours. I walked to Joe's Pizza and looked inside. Sure enough, the Ducks were all there. Laughing and having a good time. Even though they had just taken a beating from the Cardinals.
But here they were, sitting and laughing like nothing is wrong. They don't miss me. Not one bit. Everyone is making jokes and smiling. No one seems to care that I'm not there.
Some friends.
I walked around in Minneapolis Central Park for hours when I spotted John. With another women. Kissing another women. My stepfather was having an affair.
I'm not sure if I was happy or mad about this. But before I had a chance to digest it all, I felt like I was sinking. Like something has gone wrong. Very wrong. I wanted to throw up. But I couldn't. All I could do was run all the way to Mickey's Dining Car.
I walked in the door. The place was pretty much empty. It was almost time to close. My mother was sitting there, and she looked like she had been crying.
"Mom?"
She turned around and sighed. She stood up and put her arms around me.
"Hans...passed away."
How can that be? I was just talking to him a few hours ago...
"What?"
"It was his time to go."
She wiped away a few tear and grabbed her purse.
"Let's go," she said. I followed her out to the car. I was hoping to spring the news about John's infidelity and hopefully convince her to leave him...but for some reason, I fell silent.
When we got home, John still was nowhere to be found. Mom and I said little to each other, but before I was about to go to bed, she said, "I know you two aren't talking and you're shutting him out of your life right now, but Gordon needs to know."
I stared at her. But she persisted. "Charlie, he's still a part of you. Just call him."
She handed me the phone. I dialed the number and walked into my room.
"Hello. You've reached Gordon Bombay. If you'll leave your name, number, and a brief message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible."
"Hans is dead," I managed to choke out.
My mother knocked on the door. "Did you phone him?" she inquired.
"I left a message," I said, handing her the phone.
She closed the door and turned off the light. I closed my eyes and all I saw was my last conversation with Hans. My eyes flew open, filled with tears. I didn't get the chance to say goodbye. And now it's too late. And for the first time in my life, I realized that I'm alone in this world. All alone.