Page 16 of Breakneck Hockey

He jumps, landing without too much trouble on the dock and I’m out right after him, giving my landing a little hockey-man flourish. I let Eric do the bulk of the work, giving a little help via my arm strength. Joey manages his side with minimal bouncing against the dock.

“C’mere. I’m gonna show you how to tie a proper cleat hitch. It’s got to have just enough give.” I show him slowly, looping figure eights around the dock cleat, and then I undo it. “Your turn.”

Charles cuts the engine. He and the other boys hop off the boat, their bare feet landing with thuds onto the polished dock.“Did we earn some free time, sir?” Charles asks, gaze drifting to Joey.

I know what they want to do. It’s like lookin’ at a young me and Alderchuck. Fight all day, devolve into other shit the rest of the time. God, I hope they’re only planning on making out, but teenagers are walking, talking hormones. I would know. I used to be one.

“You two can have free time but stay in the communal areas. The rest of you, meet me by the latrines.”

All five boys groan for different reasons and there’s some swearing, but I could give a fuck. Heavy feet plod off and I check on Eric. His tongue’s poking out of his mouth. He’s working so hard on that knot. Instinct has me itching to jump in and do it for him, but that won’t help him. That’s not how he’ll feel proud of himself.

I’m not a guy with a lot of patience, and I don’t have much left after a day with angry teenagers, but I find it in me to kick it while I wait for Eric.

“Finished,” he says. He looks around. “Did they leave without me?”

“Trust me, kid. You don’t want to have to participate in what any of them are doing. We’ll find your brother after this and you two can hang.” His brother’s older, so he’s in the age group above with Francisco. I suggested—more than once—for Francisco to put Eric in the younger group with Counselor Joshua. It just so happened that this round, we got more kids in the upper age range. But Francisco wanted Eric with me for some reason. “Show me your bowline knot.”

His tongue sticks out as his small hands fumble with the rope. It takes him a few tries. I tug on it a little, testing it. “Solid. Awesome job. We’ll make a sailor out of you yet.” I ruffle his mop of hair.

His eyes are round as marbles. “Do you think … you think my dad would be proud of me?”

My heart constricts. Waves of bile crash in my stomach. I’m near to hurling over the dock, but I suck it the fuck up.

Francisco doesn’t do things that’ll only help the boys. He does things that help the counselors, too. Most of us counselors—but not all—are graduates of the program, which requires a minimum of two years as counselors if you’ve begun as a camper. I stayed on after that mostly voluntarily. I’d be here even if I wasn’t Francisco’s son, but it plays a factor. And so, I’m not in the program, but as Francisco says, “Life’s the real program.” He knows I’ve still got some shit hanging around.

I take a deep breath. “Your dad would be so fucking proud of you, Eric.” The words sink into both of us.

“Leader Francisco is your dad, right?”

“That’s right.” I don’t correct people. Francisco’s my dad in every way. He just wasn’t my dad first.

There’s a glint in between the wooden slats by the kid’s foot.

“Wow,wouldja look at that?” I say, inflecting a little whimsy into my voice for his benefit.

“What? What is it, Counselor Mitch?”

My skin breaks out in gooseflesh. A buoyant tingle rises in my chest. Happens every time I see one. I fish the penny out and flip it between my fingers. Yep, this one’s American, but I find the odd Canadian penny lying around in random places. Canada stopped minting the penny in 2012. They went out of circulation in 2013, but even when I come home, pennies find me. As if they’ve dropped out of another dimension.

I mean, this one could have been lost by an American visitor.

Or.

“Hold out your hand.” I place the penny in his small palm. The wind picks up, blowing through his messy red hair. This kid’s got freckles galore. Two big front teeth. Also kinda athletic.Will be interesting to see who he grows into. “My dad used to tell me that whenever I found a penny, and he wasn’t around, it was because he was thinking about me. Looks like your dad was thinking about you, kid.”

“Really?” He squeezes the penny in his hand. His eyes fill with the magic of the world.

“Really. Now, c’mon. Let’s get up there before those guys can cause more trouble.”

The first thing I do when I get back from Camp Kawkawa? Look for a hookup. I’ve done nothing but fantasize about Alderchuck for fourteen days. I’m going to fork my brain out of my skull if it goes on any longer. There are a million messages on my phone. Some from Rhett, some from the guys—my boys—from the old neighborhood. One from Mom and little sis. There’s already one from Dad, too, even though he just dropped me off, thanking me for volunteering again. I took home another Counsellor of the Year award.

Everyone can fucking wait. I need to get rid of this Alderchuck fixation.

I don’t need anyone special. I hit up my Benduovr profile. Just like always, hundreds of messages. I have my pick, anyone I want, but none of them have me as excited as the idea of Alderchuck. That’s a problem. Am I really going to let my dick dictate my life?

Maybe it’s because he makes me so fucking mad. No one’s ever gotten under my skin as much as Casey Alderchuck. Skating around the ice. Thinking he’s hot shit. All his dirty cheap shots.I also kinda just like getting his goat. There’s nothing more satisfying. If I’m not trying to kill him on the ice, I’m tormenting him just for fun.

Fuck it. Maybe the only real way to get him out of my system is by fucking him. The season will come along, which will force an end to fucking him anyway. Why not have a little summer fun?

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