And…the usual disclaimer: Disney owns the Mighty Ducks. The name, the characters, Orion, the Varsity players, and Linda are not mine. However, I do own any characters you don't recognize…i.e. Ken's parents, Ken's grandfather, Elaine, Brian, Sky, Tony, Sonja, etc.
The song used in this chapter belongs to a local band, Foolish Things, who is one of the most inspirational bands ever.
Yay for not taking a whole month to write this! And yay for all of you who review! Keep it up! Words cannot express how much they mean. And anne918, sure you can have Adam if you have nightmares…we all need a Duck of our own…!
Ken stuck to his lack of sleep story and opted not to join the rest of the Ducks who were going to see a movie. He sat on his bed, trying to decide exactly what he should do. He wanted to go back to the rink and have another go on his figure skates, but after two hours of hardcore hockey practice plus the nearly two hours of skating he had put in that morning, Ken wasn't sure he could walk, let alone attempt to skate or jump. Maybe tomorrow he could get some ice time in, but tonight wasn't an option.
Ken had just decided to take a hot shower in hopes of relieving his hurting muscles when someone knocked on his door. He opened it to find Tony, holding a pile of mail and a box.
"Hey, Ken. I just picked up my mail and saw you had a package so I grabbed it. Here ya go." He said quickly, tossing it into Ken's hands, who nearly dropped it.
"Thanks." Ken called to Tony who was already heading down the hall toward his own room. He shut the door, looked at the return address label on the box, and saw that it was from his parents. He set the box on the floor, slit the packing tape with scissors and ripped the box open. He pulled out the letter on top and started to read.
Ken,
Was planning on sending you a letter to see how you were doing and to wish you well and I realized I had some stuff to send you. You left a few sweatshirts in the dryer when you left, here they are.
Ken reached into the box and pulled out three hooded sweatshirts. "I was wondering where those went…" Ken laughed to himself. He also pulled out a large plastic container full of cookies.
I made some cookies the other day and thought you might like some. I know the food at school isn't the greatest. I hope there's enough to share with your team.
The rest of the letter was full of the normal stuff, how Ken's dad was doing and how work was going for each of them and how they missed him, but there was something at the end that caught Ken's eye.
I was at the rink the other day, dropping off some of your old pairs of skates at the pro shop to sell and I ran into Elaine Porter. She asked me how you were doing at school and asked me to send something your way.
Ken peered into the box and frowned, puzzled. He pulled out a blank CD case with an envelope attached. He pulled a small piece of paper out of the envelope and unfolded it.
Kenny,
Hope you doing well in Minnesota and having fun playing hockey. This is just in case you need to remember why you started.
Elaine
Ken popped the disc into his CD player. Within the first few notes of the song, Ken grinned, knowing exactly what it was. He pulled it out and placed it on his nightstand. He'd save it for tomorrow morning.
Ken was up early, as usual, even though it was a Saturday. After he reached the rink, he ran through his off ice warm-up of stretching and jumps and quickly laced up his skates. He skated over to the stereo located in between the two penalty boxes, popped the CD into the stereo and turned up the volume. He listened to the acoustic guitar chords for several seconds, remembering back to the many times he'd heard this song when he was younger.
Elaine had always brought her own CDs or tapes to listen to when skaters weren't performing to their music. Ken always felt that this one was especially appropriate since it talked about flying and was always one of his favorites. He grinned for a moment and thought about how funny it was that both hockey players and figure skaters always viewed skating like flying. Personally, Ken agreed; to him, it didn't matter what you were doing, speeding down the ice was as close to flying as you could get.
Now, Ken took several laps around the rink, losing himself in the lyrics and the music.
If I could talk to you, would you listen?
If I could hear you, would you talk to me?
Sometimes I like I'm all alone
Sometimes I feel like I'm at your throne
I know you are there
So I have no doubts, I have to fears
And I wanna fly away
And I wanna see you in a new way
If these walls could talk, would they show how strong's my wall?
If these walls could sing, would they make heaven real?
And I wanna fly away
And I wanna see you in a new way
I know you are there
So I have no doubts, and I have fears
And, and I wanna fly away
And I wanna see you in a new way
As the song played over and over, Ken tried to recall every bit of technique each move required, every move, step or turn for each spin or jump. He could do simple jumps now, without losing control and a few spins as well. Slowly everything was coming back to him, including all the reasons why he kept skating for so long.
So caught up in his skating, Ken didn't even notice a figure standing near the doorway, watching him. He didn't hear the figure exit the doors to the rink, or the door click behind him.