Chapter 8: Logan
Logan wasn't surprised when he arrived home and found that his father wasn't there after school. It had been this way since he moved to town two months ago, after the courts proclaimed that Harris LaRue would have sole custody of Logan, which meant he got the approval to move out to Minneapolis. Harris had told Logan it was would a good thing, that his aunt, who was widowed and wheelchair-bound, needed someone to help out around the house and take care of things temporarily while she recovered after the car accident she'd been in that had taken her husband. And it didn't help that her two children, Jen and Pace, were away at college and couldn't help out because they were paying their own way out of college debt by working their own part-time jobs.
But the longer Logan stayed here with Aunt Zoey, the longer he felt that things weren't good.
His dad had spent the next month following their move looking for a new job, which proved difficult because he'd never finished college. And Logan's mom had been the one to provide most of the income with her job as a news anchor for their local news up in Toronto; it had been her co-anchor she'd slept with. This meant his dad needed to take a job waiting tables at Twin City Slice and another local steakhouse, making just enough from his tips from the two separate jobs until he could find something that paid better; the problem was that not many places were willing to hire a man with no education.
Logan sighed. He decided he needed to start his homework at least. His Golden Retriever, Murphy, came up to him in a warm greeting with a toy; his father and Aunt Zoey had bought Murphy, as if that would make it up to him that his dad had to work a lot and Logan had more responsibilities; not that Logan minded the dog, he loved dogs and grew up with at least two dogs at a time, but he really wished his father and mother gave up with trying to somehow make things up to him, as if buying him expensive hockey gear and a dog made up for anything or filled a void. He wanted to scoff at the thought, but he smiled at Murphy and yanked on the toy, scratching the dog's head in appreciation.
As he passed by the kitchen, he saw his dad left a note on the countertop.
Logan,
I had to head to work earlier. I also have to work both Sunday and Saturday lunch shifts, so I'll be home for dinner this weekend. If you have nothing going on, maybe we can go to the movies after my shift on Sunday.
I left you some money for dinner. You can order whatever you want. Or if you feel like cooking, there's pasta and a jar of sauce in the cupboards.
Love, Dad
Logan sighed. He was tired of this, his dad constantly working and not being home to eat most nights. Sure, Mr. Bombay and Coach Conway had been nice enough to allow him to eat dinner with the Conways last night, and even Teddi had invited him to play some hockey with her and her little brother, but even that couldn't fill the void.
He knew his dad intended to potentially go back to school so he could earn enough credits to become a substitute teacher, but there were days like this when he was reminded that the finances weren't there yet, and probably wouldn't be for a while even though his dad kept saying the day would come soon. He was shocked that his dad had even made it to back-to-school night, and he'd seen Coach Conway's face when he and his dad met, how Coach Conway looked concerned that his dad wasn't at all present in the meeting between them. No wonder Coach brought it up with Bombay. They probably thought his dad wasn't fit to parent him.
Sighing, he walked over to the phone and saw that there was a missed call from his mom up in Toronto. And he knew what the voice message would consist of.
"Logan, honey, I really want you to come to the wedding next month. I promise you'll really like Jack. And his children are wonderful. If you'd just give him a chance . . ."
He didn't want to give the man who'd had an affair with his mother any chances. It just wasn't fair that his mom called him up to talk about her new life, her new soon-to-be-husband, and her new family. What made her think he wanted to hear about any of that?
Sighing, he grabbed a snack from the refrigerator before going to his bedroom, passing Aunt Zoey's room and seeing it empty. She was probably out with a friend running some errands. He dumped his bookbag on his bed before biting into his apple.
Pulling out his math book, he knew he needed to study for tomorrow's test. But he also hated pre-algebra with a passion. There was no way he'd pass, not when he could barely understand any of these equations. And the reading he needed to do for Coach Conway's class on the novel The Outsiders? He read what he could stomach; they talked so southern, and he didn't see how he could relate to anything in that book so far, aside from Ponyboy Curtis coming from a broken home. Coach Conway had picked it for the curriculum because he said the book was "life-changing," but Logan struggled to get into it; he was never much of a reader anyway, and he was quicker to pick up a comic book or a hockey magazine or watch a movie than he would read an actual book. Maybe Mr. Bombay could help him with that, too.
Science was no better. And history bored him to death. Deciding to give up doing any homework until he got to the Ice Palace later, he closed his eyes and decided to take a nap. Plus, he didn't have to worry about dinner; Bombay said he was buying.
When six-thirty rolled around, he decided to get ready to head out. He gathered up his hockey gear and Maple Leafs jersey, put on his coat and shoes, and headed out the door to walk the twenty-minute walk to the Ice Palace, where Bombay for sure would be waiting. He also stuffed his school books into his hockey bag, because he needed all the help he could get.
The twenty-minute walk was a good warm-up, and it helped him clear his head for a while until he got to the rink, though he felt apprehensive as he noticed some Ducks there, skating around; there wasn't anything that said other people couldn't use the facility since it was a public place. He decided he'd be better off changing in the bathroom near the concession stand, where the Ducks wouldn't see him, because the last thing he wanted was to run into Kyle Morris and Anthony Wilson, who never failed to give him crap while at school, and for sure would find new excuses to bully him after that humiliating loss against the Cardinals on Saturday; it didn't help that they already disliked him because he was associated with Owen Averman, whom they picked on for being a "nerd," even though Averman's dad had been an OG Duck who brought Team USA the win at the Jr. Goodwill Games in 1994. And he didn't quite know why the Ducks at District Five Middle School disliked him so much. Was it because he was the new kid that moved in from Canada (he'd had them call him a Canuck multiple times)? Did they find out about his mom cheating on his dad? Was it because he couldn't skate at all? They never gave a specific reason why they treated him the way they did. Then again, they quickly turned on Teddi, Gordy, and Evan, which showed that their loyalties only lay with winning.
Sighing, he didn't bother with chest and shoulder pads, just knee and elbow pads and his helmet. The skates would be the last thing he'd get on before he hit the ice with Gordon. He decided he'd hide near the concession stand until the Ducks left; Gordon's office was nearby. It was safe. At least, he thought it would be.
Logan watched as the Ducks filed off the ice and headed for the locker room to get dressed into street clothes. He decided now was the time to head down there and get his skates on, and at least try to warm up before Gordon got there. But that turned out to be his mistake as he sat down to put them on, because Wilson and Morris, two of the Ducks' enforcers, were rounding the corner. Even though Cole and Riley were the primary enforcers due to their massive size, Wilson and Morris were worse, because they went to school with the Don't Bothers at District Five; they were bigger, meaner, and downright sneaky with their bullying, making it look like it was nothing while they pretended to be model students in front of the teachers. Only Coach Conway didn't seem fooled by them at all; he was the only teacher who noticed any bullying happening, and he wasn't afraid of calling out teachers that stepped out of line, either; maybe that was why Teddi was always made fun of, it was no mystery the District Five Middle School Ducks called her a teacher's pet, because they thought due to her father's position as a teacher, she got by through favoritism and that she was nothing but a spoiled little daughter. Maybe that was why they never bothered really trying to hide their bullying behavior from Coach Conway anymore; they'd grown to be so brazen that they did it out in the open in front of him, as if they were daring him to give them detention.
In fact, Wilson and Morris garnered such a reputation for working together to go after opposing players by doing many illegal checks, high stick penalties, and tripping, to the point where opposing teams and kids around school called them "The Bash Brothers," a nickname that had been given to Portman, Reed, Kenny Wu, and Goldberg, the difference being, those four only got aggressive when protecting each other, themselves, and their teammates against bullies; Wilson and Morris used that nickname as a way to let it be known that they were thugs and bullies. Logan had eaten at Goldberg's restaurant a couple of times since moving to Minnesota, and from what Goldberg said, he'd been to a few Ducks games to support Teddi, Billy, and Gordy; he said that Wilson and Morris's behavior both on and off the ice, assaulting opposing team members for no good reason at all, it was nothing short of a disgrace and downright embarrassing, and that they may be known as the modern-day Bash Brothers, but they didn't deserve that title at all.
Logan sighed. He knew what was coming. He seemed to be Morris' favorite target of all the Don't Bothers to pick on.
"Oh, look, we've got one of the losers from the B team," sneered Morris.
"Heard about the game on Saturday, La Rue. Did you score?" laughed Wilson.
"Leave me alone, guys. I don't wanna talk about it," Logan pleaded.
"Obviously, he didn't. I wonder why you were even let on the team. Maybe Mr. Conway pitied you. Doesn't surprise me since his spazz of a kid is on it," said Morris with another sneer.
"Were your parents there? Oh, that's right, your mom's not around. Where is she, La Rue? Out sleeping with her boss? How does it feel, knowing your mommy's a whore?" Wilson added snidely.
Logan felt a flare of anger go through him. He didn't know if they meant it as a cruel joke, or if they actually knew his mom was a cheater. Still, his eyes felt hot as his breath hitched in his throat so far back, he thought he'd be sick.
"Please, just stop. I don't wanna talk about this. Just leave me be. I haven't done anything to you guys."
"It's not that you've done anything. It's just the fact that you exist," sneered Wilson, reaching a hand out and giving Logan a shove to the ground. Logan didn't bother getting up. He knew what they'd do. He'd seen it done to Averman, Evan, Nick, and even Gordy. And they were no strangers to getting physical with girls; he'd seen them shove Lauren and even Teddi occasionally. They'd have no mercy at all if he tried getting back up. They'd just shove him again.
However, before he or the enforcers could say or do anything else, he heard footsteps and Mr. Bombay's voice, and he counted his blessings that Gordon showed up when he did, holding a hockey stick and already laced up in a pair of skates. "What's going on here?"
Seeing he almost got caught, Morris quickly said, "Nothing, sir. He just fell over, and we were helping him up."
Bombay looked at him as if that were the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. "Yeah, you see, I don't believe that. Now get out of here. And keep your hands to yourself, and when someone asks you to leave them alone, you leave them alone. Have a little respect." His voice was icy, his blue eyes just as hard and just as cold as he glared at them, his jaw a rigid line.
"Whatever, Dad," Wilson said, rolling his eyes as he and Morris left, snickering.
Gordon sighed, shaking his head. Somehow, he didn't look surprised by this. He leaned over and extended his hand as his face softened into an expression of compassion. "Are you okay?"
Logan nodded shakily. "I'm okay." He swallowed hard to quit crying as he allowed Gordon to pull him to his feet.
"Listen, don't pay any mind to them. It's not worth it; none of that crap is gonna matter. Trust me. I've dealt with plenty of that, too. I had plenty of guys shove me around in gym class and harass me for my height, and it didn't help the high school I went to was filled with a bunch of former Hawks, either."
"But aren't they, like, one of the worst teams right now?"
"Back in Coach Conway's day, they were the best and obsessed with winning. That's one of the three biggest diseases right now. We've got this need to be right, a fear of being wrong, and as a result, we take everything personally," Gordon explained, grabbing Logan's arm and leading him out onto the ice. "Did you ever watch the first Spider-Man movie? The original one?"
Logan shook his head no. "No, I grew up with the Andrew Garfield one with Martin Sheen's Uncle Ben."
"Well, you should. I saw it with Coach Conway when it first came out," Gordon explained. "And there's this one scene toward the end of the film, where you have Spider-Man facing a choice that the Green Goblin tries making for him: either save Mary-Jane from him, or, save a school bus filled with children about to fall. Green Goblin tells him to decide between saving the girl he loves or saving the kids. But there's always a third, a fourth, a fifth option: people were joining in throwing things at the Green Goblin; there was a boat passing under the bridge at just the right time, giving Spider-Man the thought to come up with that third choice. Before you panic or say you can't do something or feel like you need to choose between failure and success, you have the option to find the gray area; you just need to take the time to look for it and really consider what all your other choices are. It's all a mental thing. Do you understand?"
Logan shrugged. "Yeah. I guess."
"You'll understand it better if you see the movie," Gordon said gently.
They continued steadily until they reached the center of the arena, and Gordon had him stand a couple of feet away as he held onto the hockey stick in both hands.
"So, skating," he said, getting straight to the point, "it's not that hard once you get the hang of it. It's kind of like riding a bike."
"I don't know how to do that, either," Logan admitted, feeling his face flaring embarrassingly.
"Okay," Gordon said, clearly thinking his work was cut out for him. Nonetheless, he extended the stick out to Logan and held it in two hands. "Grab hold of it."
Logan sighed. This was downright embarrassing, needing the equivalent of training wheels. But he still latched onto the stick; he was willing to try anything at this point.
"All right, hang on tight. Now, I'm gonna pull you, and you're gonna push. All right? We're gonna start." Gordon started pulling him along; despite knowing Gordon had a grip on him, he still nervously looked down at his feet, a habit he hadn't broken yet. But as Gordon moved back, pulling him along, he moved his feet slowly, still looking down. But he wasn't as nervous, and it wasn't as bad as he thought. In fact, he actually found he was enjoying himself; he laughed, albeit nervously, as Gordon pulled him to move to the right, and then the left, but soon his laughter eased as he found this was fun.
"All right, good, nice and steady. Keep pushing; put some muscle into it," Gordon told him. "And keep your head up, don't look down. Keeping your head back changes everything; having your head up and your shoulders back instills confidence; even if you fall, at least you did it with confidence. Remember what Orion said."
Logan nodded nervously, but decided he'd take Bombay's words to heart and give it a try. He lifted his head upward, keeping his eyes on Gordon, seeing him looking at him with an easy smile. Almost instantly, his stomach settled, and he eased into it, allowing Gordon to pull him along gently, guiding him at a steady pace. It was nearly enough for him to forget what Morris and Wilson had said to him earlier, like their voices and taunts were moving away and couldn't be heard for miles.
"Okay, you got this," Gordon encouraged. "You've got it. Good job, Logan. Good. Now, I'm gonna let go."
Logan felt the color draining from his face at the mention of that. "No! Don't!" The snares of panic wrapped around his chest, clenching at his heart. If Gordon let him go now, he would just fall on his face again. "Please, don't do that!"
"It's gonna be okay," Gordon assured him, his voice comforting. But it did little to settle him.
"No, it won't," Logan argued back.
"Well, okay. Just look at me. Talk to me then. About anything you want. What's a guy like you got all this pro-hockey gear, and you don't know how to skate?" Gordon asked him, curious.
"I . . . I don't know," Logan stammered. "I mean, my parents, they were going through the divorce. I guess they thought they could make it up to me somehow by buying me stuff. So, they bought me all this equipment, but nobody's ever taught me how to use it. Mom got me the world's greatest guitar, and I don't even know how to play it. Dad got me the dog, thinking that would somehow help and make up for him not being home. And I have all this hockey gear, and I don't know what half of it does. I just wish they'd stop trying to make everything okay by buying me things, as if those things will make up for Dad working all the time and Mom planning her wedding to the guy she cheated on Dad with."
Gordon looked at him sympathetically. "Yeah, I remember what it was like after my dad died. Mom thought she could make it up to me by sending me to fancy private schools for middle and high school; it didn't do much. And I know Coach Conway feels similarly; his mom tried compensating for his dad not being there, but it was never the same. So, did you ever watch hockey?"
"Dad always took me to Maple Leafs games before the divorce happened," Logan replied, smiling at the good memories of when he and his dad did stuff together.
"When was the last time you and your dad did anything together?" Gordon asked.
"It's been maybe three months? Four?"
"That long?" Gordon looked surprised. "That's too long for a dad not to do anything with his kid."
"He says it'll get better soon, but I don't know."
"Hey, look at that," Gordon said, grinning. "You're skating."
That was when Logan realized Gordon had let go of the stick, and he was skating, actually skating by himself! Was it really that easy? Or maybe, Gordon made it easy, doing something as simple as offering to talk to him about anything; maybe he was overthinking something that should be so simple, and Gordon proved that to him. Not only that, Gordon starting a conversation with him helped him relax and made him a lot less nervous; it made him forget that he was even on the ice at all. He felt a wide smile stretch across his face as he moved by himself, laughing, unable to stop laughing as he skated.
"I'm – I'm doing it!" he said, stunned as he kept moving, though there was one little problem . . .
He didn't know how to stop once he got started.
"Pump the breaks, Logan!" Gordon called out to him right before he crashed into the goaltender's net. Gordon walked over, laughing with him as he reached over and grabbed his hand. "That's okay. We'll work on stopping next time. At least you got started."
"Yeah," grinned Logan, still laughing as Gordon got him back on his feet.
"Let's go for it again. Keep at it. You'll get there. Remember, don't overthink it, and don't get stuck in your own head or tell yourself you can't do it. You can. Just change your mindset. There's no right or wrong way to learn; it's not that black and white. Find the gray area somewhere."
Logan nodded in agreement as Gordon kept hold of his head, pushing him along the ice as they did a couple of laps. Gordon helped him have some control over his edges, even when his feet went out wider. However, Gordon gently pushed his feet together to prevent them from moving out too far. They kept it up for a good half hour until Logan realized how hungry he was, and Gordon decided they'd raid the snack bar's freezer space, which had ground beef and frozen French fries sitting in there; he said not to worry, that because he owned the rink, he'd pay for it.
Logan eagerly followed Gordon up to the concession stand and into the kitchen area, where Gordon pulled out the hunk of ground beef, fries, hamburger buns, cheese, pickles, and ketchup. He got to work defrosting the meat, and after he finished, Logan took it upon himself to form them into flat patties while Gordon lit the flattop. Once it was hot enough, Logan put the patties down on the flattop and watched as they cooked relatively quickly to medium well before he grabbed the spatula, flipping them over with ease.
Gordon glanced at him. "You're pretty good at that."
"I've learned a thing or two. I'd never let Aunt Zoey near a stove."
"But how you flipped that," Gordon said, "you should think of the puck that way. Remember what I said about soft hands? Concentration? The same thing applies here. Why don't you think of it that way?"
Logan took a moment to consider this. "I never did."
"You should try it that way," Gordon suggested. "Next practice, we'll work on it. First, let's get this food going, and I'll help you out with some of your assignments. What book are you reading in Coach Conway's class?"
"The Outsiders," Logan said.
"Great book. At least Coach Conway's got good taste," Gordon approved.
"I don't know if it's for me, though," Logan sighed. "I mean, I get what the story's supposed to be about. But I just . . . It doesn't hold my interest."
"It's one of the easiest novels you can read," Bombay noted as he put the French fries in the frier. "Tell you what; you read the first two chapters tonight, and I'll help you with your math and history. If we have time, I'll show you the movie the book is based on afterward. I've got the extended edition. That's the better one. Trust me."
"Okay, I'll take your word for it," Logan sighed as they finally assembled the food and sat at one of the tables, eating. Between bites of his burger, Logan pulled out his copy of The Outsiders and started reading from the beginning. Once he began to concentrate enough, surprisingly, he found himself liking it by the time he reached chapter two, which was what they'd needed to read up to for the homework assignment. After finishing it, Gordon helped him start his math, and they finished it with history; surprisingly, Gordon was an excellent tutor and never once lost any patience, even when Logan needed stuff repeated to him several times, making Logan wonder if the former Ducks coach ever helped out the original Ducks with their homework.
Afterward, he and Gordon disposed of the trash and went to his office, where he turned the TV on and placed the disk into his Blu-ray player. The movie started up with the credits before it closed in on Ponyboy, and it started how the book started: With Ponyboy leaving the movie theater and getting jumped by the Socs; his ass was getting handed to him by the time the other greasers came in and saved him, except when Two-Bit came up on the screen, Logan was quick to crack a grin.
"Hey, he kind of looks like you," he laughed.
"No, he does not!" Gordon protested, shaking his head.
"Yes, he does!" Logan pointed out that Emilio Esteves's features made him and Bombay look like they could be twins.
"Oh, please! I do not look like Estevez!" Gordon rolled his eyes, though based on his laughter, he was enjoying himself as he gave Logan's shoulder a light shove while the movie kept playing.
"Okay, tell yourself that, old man!"
Gordon looked at him with a mocking grin as he paused the movie at the point where Tom Cruise's Steve Randall was telling Ponyboy, "It is my business! Look at my nose!"
"Old man?" Gordon repeated, and the next thing Logan knew, he was being pinned to the sofa by the former Ducks coach, and he felt the sensation of ten fingers attacking him underneath his armpits, causing him to burst into a hysterical burst of laughter, to the point where he felt tears coming to his eyes. "You've just entered the tickling zone! When you've had enough, say mercy!"
Logan just kept laughing; he could hardly breathe but didn't care. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed this hard. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been tickled like this, either. He laughed so hard he fell off the sofa, hitting the floor with a thud, but Gordon was just as quick to follow him.
"Get back over here, you little devil! I'm gonna get you."
Logan made him keep going. He wasn't quite sure he wanted it to end. But when he felt his bladder giving out, he gasped, "Stop! Stop! I give!"
Gordon grinned, stopping instantly before reaching over, ruffling his hair before pulling him forward, giving him a noogie, and further messing up his hair as he led him over to the couch so they could continue watching the movie. It was probably the most fun Logan had ever had in a while.
A/N: Yes, the moment where Bombay is teaching Logan how to skate was taken right from the show; I found a clip on YouTube and I've seen it quite a few times.
This was also one of the more personal chapters I've written because I know the impact of having a good teacher/coach in your life - I study taekwondo and my masters and CIs are the people I credit for changing my life; Gordon's talk with Logan about the Spiderman movie comes from a speech my taekwondo master gives every year, and I can also attest Gordon's method of talking to Logan while letting go of the stick is something that works; sometimes all you need is someone talking you through it and helping you not overthink things that are so simple.