The Tales of a Professional Hockey Player

Chapter 23: Photo

~Ben~

Mr. Bailey was right. The picture we took last night is in every newspaper and appeared on every sports channel on television. It even made it all the way to Victoria because my mother sent me a text saying she had seen my face in the local newspaper. The title of the article was: Local Hockey Player Signs with the New York Islanders. My mom said she was thinking about framing the article and hanging it in her living room. She told me that both she and my dad were proud of me, but he declined coming to the phone to tell me himself, so I doubt that he actually said that.

I tried to call Eleanor last night when I came back to her place, but she didn't pick up. I texted her to call me, but she still hasn't contacted me. I try to convince myself that it has nothing to do with what happened at Will's wedding, but I struggle to believe my lies. So, instead, I tell myself to give her time. If the roles were reversed, I would probably want to avoid her too, but I still wish I could share the good news with her. We kept talking about the day I would finally make it pro since we started dating. It just feels normal for me to want to celebrate with her.

To try and get rid of some of the excitement that has been sticking to my skin since yesterday, I decide to head to the arena. I haven't trained or worked out since we left for BC and I miss it. I miss the adrenaline running through my veins while I run and the way I feel when I'm done. I love the ache in my legs after I've done sprints on the ice. I found out that working out is the best therapy when I was in Germany and I intend on using it the most I can.

Two people asked for my autograph when I came out of the locker room. They had recognized me from the newspaper and wanted to prove to everyone that they really did see me. Even if we train in a small arena during the off-season, supporters recently found the place making it almost impossible for us to train without having people shouting in the bleachers. Some like having the extra push from the fans, but I prefer working out by myself. I hate feeling the pressure to perform even during trainings. I put enough pressure on myself, I don't need more people telling me I should skate faster or shoot more precisely. One of the two men who asked for my autograph tried to give me tips on how to be a better player. When I asked him for how long he has been playing hockey, he told me he stopped when he was eleven but has kept watching it on TV. "I have forty years of NHL experience which is more than you'll ever have. I'm telling you, you should listen to me," he said to me while pointing his finger at me. I stopped listening after that but kept nodding every five seconds to make him think he was important. This is the thing with hockey supporters, if you tell them to go screw themselves, they'll only get mad or, in worse cases, violent. And once it gets known that you aren't nice to fans, everyone else will start hating you which isn't good for business. Absolutely no team wants to hire a player that every sports' fan hates. Everyone knows that the advice supporters give you isn't worth listening to, but you still have to pretend to listen to not hurt that person's feelings to, in the end, protect your career.

I decide to take a cab back home instead of taking the subway like I did earlier in the day. My driver, Nassir, a nice Iranian refugee, kept telling me stories about his wife and children, even requesting to see a picture of Ophelia. This is why I like cabs more than the subway. You always meet new people who can bring you so much if you just take the time to listen to them. Nassir, for example, had his first child at only nineteen years of age, just like me. Him too acted like an idiot and almost lost his wife whom he now has three other children with.

"The secret, Mr. Ben, is to never give up. You still love Miss Eleanor, don't you?" A question to which I nodded without hesitation. "Then you give it your all. Want to know what I did to get Ester back?" He had the proudest smile I have ever seen on someone's face before. It reverberated in his eyes making them glow. "She loves fish. I sometimes think she loves them more than me. So, I bought a huge fish tank on craigslist, filled it with water and our son and I drew fish and other things that live under water like seaweed and starfish on paper and we glued them to the front of the tank. We didn't have enough money for me to buy all those things, but she didn't care. I did something to show her I would do anything to make her happy." He stopped talking after that. We were almost in front of my apartment building, but I refused to get out until I got to hear the end of the story.

"Did it work?" I hopefully asked. He turned his face towards me, grinning.

"Let's just say that nine months later, Farzin had a sister." We had just pulled up in front of my building.

"Thank you, Mr. Nassir," I say, extending my hand for him to shake. I hand him the money for the course plus a generous tip before getting out of his taxi.

"You have to find your own fish tank, Mr. Ben," he shouted at me. I nodded as I watched him drive away.

I spent the next few days thinking about my own fish tank move. I went to the arena every day to clear my head but felt the heaviness coming back to haunt me every time I stepped into an empty apartment when I got back. I called Olive a few times to try and check on Eleanor, but Olive hasn't heard from her since she picked up Ophelia the morning after the wedding. I started to worry a little more everyday causing my workouts to lengthen as time went by. Eleanor and Ophelia are supposed to come back today. I decide to call her once again, but, like every time I've tried, it goes straight to voicemail. I check her flight plan online, and, at the time she's supposed to land, I am standing in the arrivals department at JFK airport, flowers in my hands. I wait until her flight number disappears from the arrival board to text her. I decide to hand out in the airport a little longer, just in case there was a problem with her passport or something. Just as I'm about to buy myself a cup of coffee, my phone buzzes. I immediately pull it out of my pocket and feel the excitement in my stomach when I see Eleanor's name on the screen. Two simple sentences are written underneath. Two sentences that hold the power to break my heart.

I decided to extend our trip. I don't know when I'll be back. 

Short chapter, but more exciting things are coming soon! Thank you all for the 2000 reads and for the undying support you show these books xx