Chapter 2: Chapter 2

But as I stood in the face-off circle during a stoppage in play during our broomball season opener against our arch-rivals, the Spring Chickens, I couldn’t help finding the event bittersweet. Aching muscles had become more and more the norm during the recently-concluded softball season, and I had to face the fact that one day, the clock would run out on my team sports career.

Already, I was playing on borrowed time. The same could be said for most of the players on the Crush, the team for which I served as player-coach. Like aging actors coming out for the curtain call, we had to face the fact that sooner or later the applause dies out. There is, after all, an end for everything.

I glanced around at my squad-mates. To my right stood winger Debbie Spinders, her well-worn helmet concealing her short salt-and-pepper hair. Behind me, right defense Vickie Hartt shifted her weight from foot to foot, as though anxious to get things moving again. Su Smithson at left wing and Carrie Sanders at left defense assumed their ready positions, knees bent and brooms touching the ice. Within the confines of the net, Dora “Duckfoot” Jones checked her position instinctively, then tapped her broom on the ice. Still reliable, even though she couldn’t make the highlight-reel saves she’d once been capable of.

I’d heard it said that youth is wasted on the young, and could attest to the truth of that from personal experience. When I thought of all the years, all the seasons, all the games I let flow by unappreciated…

I glanced up as the opposing centre took her stance. The time for rumination was over. The game was afoot. And I, having the foreknowledge that this could not and would not last forever, intended to savor every ticked-down second.

The ball dropped, and I tipped it back to Vickie, then took off. Like actors in a play, we’d all rehearsed these moves, over the years, so they became second nature.

Vickie bounced the ball off the wall to Debbie, who relayed it to me. A quick give and go, and I was able to get off a shot on the net.

Which the other goalie repulsed. But we couldn’t expect to score on every shot. And we still had it, for old girls.

I grinned to myself. The way I felt today, they’d have to pry the broom out of my reluctant hands to get me to give it up. “Let’s go, ladies,” I said as I jogged to the bench for a line change. “We can take these guys.”

* * * *

After the game, I leaned my head back against the dressing room’s concrete block wall, closing my eyes for a moment. We had, indeed, defeated the Spring Chickens, on this occasion at least. If they made their usual post-game trek to their sponsor’s wing place, the mood, I was sure, would be muted by the fact that they’d come out on the wrong side of a 5-3 score. On the flip side, Debbie’s left knee had buckled part-way through the final period, and it looked serious enough to sideline her for the bulk of the season.

We’re already running so lean! My eyes narrowed as I corralled my shin pads, gloves, and elbow pads into my gear bag. We could ill afford the attrition. On the other hand, we had until Game Three to add players to the roster. We’d have to see who else we could arm-twist into playing.

Deep in thought, I grabbed my broom on the way out of the dressing room. A few strides later, I stopped in place, causing Dora to bump into me from behind.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, inching out of the way to let the goalie squeeze past without taking my eyes off on the person I’d spotted chatting with Judith, our second-line centre. Unless memory totally deceived me, it was Val, the woman I’d met at the mapping event. But how did Judith know her?

The mystery resolved itself in short order. Judith turned to smile at me. “Kayla, I’d like you to meet my sister, Val. She’s staying with me for a bit.”

Val’s mouth twitched, as though she intended to make some reply or protest to that, but she settled for a curt nod of greeting instead. “I meant to make it on time for the game. Had a problem with my car.”

“In time for the game?” I said. I shot Judith a look. “You mean—she’s going to play for us?” I couldn’t repress a grin, which quickly faded. “You were planning to tell me—when?”

Judith looked down for a moment, then looked up. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up. Until she actually showed up.”

Val shifted position, but remained silent.

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