The Tales of a Professional Hockey Player

Chapter 3: One

~Ben~

"This is good, considering you're new in the pros. I'd take it if I were you," Connor announces as we exit the building. I want to ask him how many offers like these he saw in the past to be able to tell if it's a good one or not, but I refrain myself. Of course, he wants me to take it, he has no idea how to negotiate a professional contract. He had trouble when I was in Major Junior, how can I expect him to be able to now? I should fire him, I think as he hails us a cab. I don't even know why he is doing this for since I wouldn't know where to go. We didn't book a hotel room because we didn't know how long we'd stay for, so we don't have anywhere to go. A yellow cab stops in front of us. Connor immediately gets in, but Alexander and I hesitate.

"C'mon boys, we're celebrating," he announces, shaking his shoulders in an awkward dance. "I'm buying," he adds when he sees that neither of us are moving. I look at Alex who is already looking at me. I bet his eyes are saying the same thing as mine: how can we say no to free booze? My agent asks the driver to take us to the closest bar. He looks at us as if we were crazy but starts driving anyway.

The Julius Baris almost empty. There are two men sitting at opposite ends of the bar and a woman who is sitting alone at a table in the back. I don't know if the fact that it's barely two pm is affecting the popularity of the place of if it's just a shitty bar. Personally, I would opt for the shitty option. The walls are covered in wood making the whole place dark and the beer cap glued to the wall acting like art on the wall behind the bar makes the place look cheesy. Frankly, I don't care at all how the place looks when the barman places three shooters in front of us. He didn't ask for Alex and I's ID or told us it was too early to drink. We asked for shots and we got them seconds later. We end up ordering more shots followed by bottles of beer. As time goes by, more and more people walk in. Alex and I still are the youngest people here and none of our new drinking buddies seem willing to celebrate with us. If I wasn't this drunk, I would probably be scared of them with their leather jackets and long beards, but not now. I ask a few to have shots with us and, even after telling them that I just got and offer for a two-year contract with the NHL, none seem interested. We end up leaving around seven pm when the barman tells us to stop bothering the other customers. We get into another cab even if we still have nowhere to go.

"A hotel," I say when the driver asks us where we're going.

Connor books Alexander and I a room at the Sheraton in Times Square for two nights even when I argued. I don't want to stay here longer than I have to. New York is filled with too many bad memories that no amount of tequila will erase. I lay on the bed as soon as we walk into the room. Cozy, I think. The bed is soft enough for me to feel as if I was laying on a cloud. I probably won't think this way tomorrow when I'm sober enough to feel the needles that are already making my head throb, but, right now, I ignore the buzzing my phone created in my back pocket and fall asleep the only way I know how: completely intoxicated.

I wake up at two am. The needles transformed into chainsaws. I open my mouth multiple times to eliminate the dryness but the air hitting my tongue only makes it worse. Water, I need water. And food, I add when I hear the grumbles in my stomach. I haven't eaten since we got off the plane, a decision I really regret right now. I rub my eyes as I unlock my phone. The light is burning holes in my head making me regret opening it. Another regret to add to the already long list of things I did wrong. Three missed calls and a voicemail from an unknown number. It's an American number. The Islanders probably want to pull off their offer. I don't dial the number, no one would answer me at two am, and I am not in the mood to be let off by voicemail, so I turn off my phone. Now, where can I get food? I am already dressed, so I get out of the room, grabbing a key as I close the door.

Lucky for me, there's a McDonald's about five minutes away from the hotel. I expected it to be empty like the 24/7 ones we had in BC and Windsor, but this one is filled with people who look like me. People who drank too much or smoked too much and need to eat. We all look like crap with red puffy eyes and clothes that have been worn for too long. I sit at a small table by the window with my food and my huge glass of water that I down in one big gulp. I get up to fill it up again when something hits me. It's probably my first coherent thought since I woke up, but it's a good one. I pull out my phone from my pocket to look at the unknown caller's number again. . These numbers look so familiar. To get rid of the unpleasant feeling in my chest, I open the contacts app. I click on her name and I know where I've seen this number before. Her old number, when we still lived in Canada was 250-290-7669. Hope strikes in my chest at the same time as fear. Was she the one who called me three times? Is it because something happened? I click on the voicemail before pressing my phone to my ear.

"Hey Ben, it's Eleanor. I don't know if you remember, but it's Ophelia's birthday Saturday, so I was wondering if you would like to see her. This is my new number. You can call or text me. Have a nice day." I listen to it four times before turning off my phone. Of course, I remember that it's her birthday. I bought her some toys back when I was in Germany. I was so excited to give them to her until I realized that I didn't know when I would see my daughter again. They're not wrapped or anything. I didn't even bring them with me. I didn't think I would have the chance to see her for her birthday. I listen to her voicemail one more time, trying not to dwell on how sad she sounds or on how impersonal the words she chose are.

I'm not hungry anymore. I clean up my table and head for the exit. Today is Friday meaning that I have a complete day to find my daughter a new birthday gift that I'm hoping will erase one year of absence.