Snapshots at the Rink - Conclusion

Circa 1986

Phil sat in the penalty box, as he did many times before, convinced once again that he had received the shitty end of the stick.  He had, after all, taken a high stick that rang off of his ear.  He had only returned the favour.  Yet, his nemesis was still out on the ice, while he sat in the box.

"Laugh it up, Pederson!" he yelled over the boards.  He had 30 seconds left in his penalty and he wasn't finished with Pederson yet.

The referee's whistle echoed and this stopped the clock.  15 seconds left in the penalty.  Pederson would have to wait 15 seconds to meet his Waterloo.  That was fine with Phil.  He tightened his skates while he waited for the puck to drop.  As soon as play resumed, he was going to make Pederson wish he'd chosen tennis instead of hockey.  He'd show him.

Phil allowed himself to look up into the stands.  There was a healthy crowd on hand.  Across the ice, over the player's bench, a large gaggle of girls had gathered.  He and Pederson were going to dance.  He would show Pederson, and those girls what he was made of and he was going to show his 'man stuff'.  Janet was there.  Her blue eyes, and long blonde hair, and jeans that god's seamstress must have fashioned themselves always caught his attention. He sure was sweet on her, though for all his 'man stuff', could never bring himself to go talk to her.  Pederson didn't know what he was in for.

Pederson kept looking over at the penalty box.  He gestured to Phil that he was ready.  As soon as he'd be freed from the sin bin, the fight would be on.  The play resumed, and Phil watched the clock count down his sentence.  Three, two, one.  Phil was over the boards in a flash. Paying no attention to the puck, Phil skated straight for Pederson.  

The two came together behind the net and the grappling began.  One minute Phil was about to school Pederson in dangers of Phil, but the next, Phil could only see flashes of light, and pain.  He couldn't see a thing, as Pederson had managed to pull Phil's jersey over his head.  Pederson landed punch after punch about Phil's nose and mouth.  Phil could feel and taste the blood.  He was soon on his back, and the punches mercifully stopped as he could feel bodies grab them and pull them down to the ice.  The referees had jump in be break up the one-sided beating.

He was helped up, and managed to free himself from his jersey.  Immediately he was steered to the gate.  He looked down at his jersey and could see the crimson covering the Elk on his team's logo.  He could hear the crowd cheering. Or jeering.  He wasn't quite sure which.  He ran his tongue over his front teeth.  They were all still there.  

Phil had showered, and was sitting in the locker room, as the trainer did his best to patch him up.  Billy was in grade 10, as was Phil.  Billy had received the same amount of first aid training as Phil did; grade 10 health class.  If Billy knew the evils of smoking, and the importance of good nutrition, he'd surely know how to patch Phil back together.

"You sure got a tuning out there.  Wow, he made of mess of you" Billy said smiling.

"I'm glad you're enjoying this."

Billy did what he could.  Phil got dressed, gathered his gear and left, with Billy in tow.

Phil emerged into the lobby carrying his duffle bag.  Some folks were milling about in the lobby of the rink while the game continued on. Phil was dumping loose change into the vending machine for a coke.  He had have to find a straw, since his mouth was now beginning to swell badly.  

"That was quite a fight!"

Phil turned to see Janet standing behind him.  Paula was there with her.  

It was quite a beating you mean, Phil said inside his still-throbbing head.

"I like fighters!" she said beaming.

"Phil fights a lot, fighters actually win fights" laughed Billy as he was passing by.

"Fuck you, Billy" Phil replied though his mashed lips.  Billy laughed as he himself walked up to the vending machine.

"So, are you going to the dance on Friday?" Janet said smiling.

"I guess." was all Phil could say, though later he would surely come up with the suave reply he could have had, if only he'd mastered all of that 'man stuff'.

"I guess I'll see you there!"  Janet kissed him on the cheek, on the one that Pederson had not lacerated, turned and headed for the door.  That sent his head spinning more than Pederson had.

****************************************************************

Circa 1993

"I do." said Phil.

"You may kiss the bride."

Phil lifted her veil, kissed Janet gently.

******************************************************************

2012

Phil knelt to one knee.  He was surprised on how deep the hole had been dug.  Holding her in his right hand and steadying himself with his left.  He lowered the urn to the bottom of the grave.  It surprised him how heavy it felt.  As she rested in the grave, he gathered a handful of sand and let it go to settle on the urn below.   His daughter did the same, followed by his son.  They backed away as the other mourners followed suit.

******************************************************************

As Paul Harvey would have said:  "And that is the rest of the story....."

And yes.....she was a spitfire....