Page 22 of Sporting Goods

“Sell any hockey equipment? Yeah—that’s the one.”

My knees weakened and I dropped back onto the bench. Logan…a pro hockey player. Not just any pro-hockey player.Theplayer.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Just a little dizzy, I skipped lunch.”

“I’ll get you some water. Don’t move.” He disappeared but I barely noticed.

My chest was tight. My vision blurred. And my throat was dry.It couldn’t be.Logan couldn’t be.

It was as though the clouds cleared over the haziness of the night and I replayed the whole thing in my head.

Speaker announces Withers creaming Danes against the board.Whistles blowing from all directions.My head spun watching it. On instinct I run toward the injured player until a coach stops me telling me he’s not one of ours.

What the hell did it matter?

Doctors were by his side almost immediately though. And they didn’t need PA assistance. But I remembered wanting to help. As if I owed him.

That was the last game I worked. I asked to be reassigned to the medical office to see regular patients on a nine to five basis. Accepted everything that went along with that. The pay cut, extended hours, a lack of freedom and the endless evenings of catching up on paperwork.

But it was worth it.

Especially after what I witnessed that night. It was practically assault and he should have been arrested.

And here I was.

Begginghim to call his son.

Tears welled in my eyes and I burst out of there before Josh returned.

You’ll never learn, Ray.

He was wrong.

I will get this right. I will get out of here one day and find a better life. Toxic free. Somewhere where half the town didn’t know who I was and treated me like I’m the piece of trash, instead of the man who imprisons me here.

The other half feeling sorry for the single mom who couldn’t get it together.

Logan being one of them.

Saturday morning, I was fighting with the idea of cancelling Jax’s next session with Logan. Or hell, telling the ex-hockey player what I’d learned and have him cancel himself.

Or tell you to go fuck yourself.

Somehow that didn’t sound like anything Logan would ever say. He didn’t seem like a harsh individual. Rough yes, stony for sure, and sometimes a little abrasive.

But I doubted he could be brutal even with his words.

One way or another this couldn’t go on.

But Jax…

I hadn’t seen my kid this happy and eager in years. And I was pretty sure, even in the short time he’d known Logan, he looked up to him.

What’s not to like?

There was no winning this. It’d be a selfish move no matter what I did. Tell Logan the truth; my kid pays the price. Keep this cruel coincidence to yourself; and suffer with my own guilt. Every day. Because I knew it wouldn’t be right.

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