Between the Pipes

Chapter 2

Sarah sighed with relief when she saw that the seat reserved for the team doctor was close to the rink doors and protected by glass. She sank down and tried to focus on the fans.

The inside of the arena was as impressive as the entrance. Four jumbo screens around the rink flashed 3-D images, and fans watched from navy cushioned seats. Each row had a programmable drink and snack service, with orders delivered directly to the seats. The second and third decks had mini screens and audio jacks so fans could tune in to watch and listen to the game as it was broadcast. The temperature felt like a balmy autumn day. Sarah had expected it to be colder because of the ice surface, but it was warm and comfortable. Fans peeled off their coats, filling the arena with a sea of navy and silver Quakes jerseys.

There was a buzz in the air. A group of five young men in the first row of the next section laughed and cheered when their blue-painted faces filled the Jumbotron. A pair of older women, off to the left, proudly sported crocheted Quakes hats, shaped like oversized baseball caps, and matching navy crocheted vests. Every once in a while, they blew into kazoos and waved their hands. A young couple held a little boy no older than a year of age and decked out in a tiny hockey jersey. The child clapped and flashed a toothless grin at his parents.

That was the trigger.

In that moment, Sarah was slammed back years ago to the arena with her dad.

She could hardly sit still. She was ten years old, and it was the first time her dad had taken her to a hockey game. Her brothers had been left at home. It was her turn to sit beside her dad, pepper him with questions, eat hot dogs and popcorn, and stay up late.

She'd watched games on television, but this was so much brighter and bigger – the players, the fans, the music, the noise.

She was looking up at her dad when it happened.

A look of horror flashed across his face. He pushed her down. Just grabbed the side of her head and literally threw her off the seat. She hit the back of the seat in front of them.

A slap shot had deflected off a stick and flown into the crowd, the newspaper reported the next day. A child, a little boy sitting behind them, had caught it in the head. It had been lightning quick. The boy had screamed. There had been shouting, people had scrambled onto their feet, and the parents had been frantic.

But what she remembered most was the silence. When the little boy had stopped screaming and the anger was directed at her, that was worse, so much worse.

The child had been carried out on a stretcher. The newspaper said it was a brain hemorrhage. He hadn't stood a chance.

It should have been her. The puck was meant for her. If her dad hadn't reacted, if she hadn't moved, it would have been her. Instead, it was the little boy. And his parents hadn't reacted because they hadn't expected her to move out of the way.

She'd sat with tears running down her face, and finally her dad had taken her home.

She'd overheard her parents whispering about it the next day. She had asked about the little boy, but they never discussed it with her. It wasn't until she saw the newspaper article that she knew.

She hadn't been back to a rink and hadn't watched another game of hockey since that day.

A loud buzzer brought her back to the game. Shaken, Sarah blinked away tears and tried to focus. She did not need this to spiral into a full-blown panic attack. She took three deep breaths and tried to ignore the pressure in her chest.

The Quakes mascots came out and sent the already-wild crowd into a frenzy. Fans cheered the two "tectonic plates" as they ran at each other and collided. The crowd responded by stamping their feet and rumbling until they erupted into a Clarington Quakes cheer. One group of enthusiastic fans on the opposite side of the rink, all wearing identical blue and silver T-shirts, stood up and raised their arms over their heads. It took three tries, but the crowd adjacent caught on and sent the wave around the arena with all three levels in synchrony. It made its way around the rink, and dazzled, Sarah rose to her feet and joined in.