They Play Hockey In Heaven - Chapter 7

    There are two wooden benches on one side of the frozen pond. Alex is sitting on one and is already done lacing up his left skate. I think to warn Alex that the ice may not be safe but I am strangely certain it is. I get my skates on and start to tie them when I hear the unmistakable sound of skates carving into ice. I have to pause and look up at Alex flying around the ice. He takes a puck the length of the ice and buries it in the top right corner of the net. He celebrates to an imaginary crowd. The mountains are looking down on him. I let out a one syllable laugh. The kind of laugh that cannot be suppressed. My brother is smiling despite concentrating on beating the imaginary defenders and goalie. I continue tying my skates with a smile of my own.

    That unmistakable crunch underneath my feet follows me around my first lap of the frozen pond. The ice is immaculate. Alex and I begin passing the puck around. We set up a few one-timers and practice our saucer passes. We are in a place where nothing matters. There are no great concerns of the world or weight on our shoulders. A place of peace rarely found in the world. Other people begin to show up and the potential for a game of shinny seems strong. I was happy to see other people. I so badly wanted to share this oasis with others. But there is one person who would really appreciate it who isn’t here. I wanted to share it with my Dad.

    Sticks get thrown into the middle of the ice and sorted evenly to each side. I recognize my brother’s stick and it is on the same side as mine. I liked playing with my brother more than playing against him. We were always so competitive against each other that I enjoyed this rare opportunity to play together. There are no goalies so the scoring system is designated as ‘posts’. This makes me even happier that my brother is on my side. His shot accuracy is incredible. My accuracy is questionable. My brother shoots like a sniper. I shoot the puck hard, in the vicinity, which is often good enough. The game goes back and forth with no one finding iron. Pucks go into the snow bank behind the nets and I am surprised how easily they are found. 

    My brother fishes the puck out of the back of the net, after another failed attempt by the other team to hit a bar. I start a deep curl and pick up speed with my crossovers. Alex pulls the puck free and starts up the ice with it. He beats two defenders before sending a perfect two foot high saucer behind the two other defenders. It lands flat and springs me on a breakaway. I look at the crossbar, setting my sights on the target. I will the puck to hit it. I load up a wrist shot that hits the crossbar dead center. Another unmistakable sound of the game. The dense sound of a puck hitting iron. In most cases a close chance. In this case a goal for my team. I instinctively pump my fist. I can’t hide my joy. An old coach of mine used to say I had all the moves, especially the ones for after I scored a goal. I skate over to my brother and pat him on the head. That’s when I see my Dad.

    I realize this has to be a dream. But that doesn’t stop me from being caught completely off guard. I skate slowly, deliberately, over to where my Dad is sitting on the bench. Alex doesn’t follow. He continues playing. My Dad looks up from tying his skates and smiles.

    “You and your brother are looking good out there.”

    Hearing his voice again reminds me of how he used to be. Calming, certain.

    “I will be out there in a second to show you and Alex a few moves.”

    I turn around and join the play. I am no longer 12 years old. The scenery hasn’t changed but I have. The game hasn’t changed but I have. I am older, grown up. I am still experiencing the same joy as my 12 year old self did. My Dad steps onto the ice. I admire his wooden hockey stick. A true twig. He skates around testing his edges. I am impressed with how smooth a skater he is. He is big on skates too. A presence. My Dad joins Alex and me. He is on our team. The game begins again. The mountains are laughing, the heavens are smiling. How did I get so lucky to have such an amazing dream?