Chapter 6: 'Breaking The Silence'
(Fulton)
I join the team as they crowd against the bleachers, staring out across the ice in total silence, our breath misting slightly in front of our faces. No one moves, unwilling to be the first to disturb the heavy atmosphere. There's a slight tremor lingering in the rink, something that makes every one of us shiver and cower back, wishing for the warm safety of the changing rooms.
As though they'd rehearsed the movement, the others all turn to Dwayne and me, their eyes gazing unswervingly at us. I understand and nod once, walking forwards as they part; Dwayne following closely. Together we make our way the edge of the ice, the clattering of our skates seeming to shatter the silence. I stop before I can step onto the rink, staring at the smooth surface, my memories overwhelming. This is the place he died…it's where whatever was inside him left…spirit? Soul? Ghost? I don't know. Whatever it is, it feels like it hasn't gone…but its not a nice sensation. I can almost feel all the rage, depression, blackness from him, not the gentle, soft person he really was. The back of my neck tingles and I shift slightly, hating the deep shiver it sends down my spine. I turn to Dwayne, but he doesn't seem to sense the same thing…his eyes are unnaturally bright, but he's oddly peaceful. But he's not a betrayer; of course he wouldn't feel anything. Whatever I'm experiencing comes from my paranoia, I'm sure of it.
Because there are no such things as ghosts.
I hear Dwayne take a deep breath and look down to see him hover a skate over the ice. I follow suit, the feeling of darkness almost overwhelming, but I shake my head slightly and defiantly step into the rink.
I realise now that I've missed the feeling of ice gliding beneath my skates and I allow myself to smile, enjoying the rush of cool air on my face.
I'm back.
"I so wasn't ready for that!" Moans Goldberg, limping along beside me, causing me to smile. It certainly was a rigorous training session, owed to the fact that Orion tried to push us past our normal limits. We've got a match in a month, so he's working us harder than usual, in an attempt to raise our endurance, I suppose.
"Can it Goldberg," Sighs Portman, shaking his damp hair from his eyes, "we've heard it all before."
"Yeah, like a million times before." Laughs Connie, poking Goldberg in his rather prominent stomach. He fends her off indignantly.
"Hey, hey, hey! What have I told you about touching the Goldmeister?"
"Goldburger more like!" Jokes Averman.
"What was that?" Demands Goldberg, glaring at him.
"Uh… I mean…well…its not that you're overweight or anything but...uh...bye!" He grins and shoots off down the corridor, Goldberg attempting to follow. I laugh a little, starting to feel slightly more 'normal' at last.
"Hey Fulton," Kenny nudges me and I glance down at him, my eyebrows raised.
"You prodded?"
"I did, yeah," he gives a grin, "we're all going to the diner down the road, wanna come?"
I consider his offer…it's been a while since I did anything with the rest of the Ducks, and I'm starting to feel a little lonely. The time for enforced solitude has long gone, in my opinion. "Sure" I shrug, "why not?" It might be fun, knowing these guys. "How 'bout it Dwayne? You up to some socialising?" I look across at the tall, silent figure, his red hair gleaming darkly after his shower. He gives me a smile and nods.
"I guess so, yeah. Being alone just isn't fun anymore." He grins in his gentle way at the others and they huddle closer to clap him on the back. Yes, things are starting to feel a lot better.