Page 52 of How We End
Post-Game Report, Colorado vs Las Vegas, Final Score 2-4
City Center Arena, Las Vegas, NV
November 26
“And there you have it, a four to two victory for the Las Vegas Desert Coyotes.Alice White is on the ice with Julian.”
“Julian, how are you feeling after that hit?”
“Uh… a little shaken up but still have all my teeth.”
“That’s always a good sign.You guys are coming off an overtime win against Philly.How are you feeling health-wise?”
“Fine.Minus the stitches on my nose.Looking forward to a couple days off for the holiday, and then we have a three-game stretch here at home, so it will be good to play in front of the fans.”
“You scored the first goal within the first three minutes.How did that feel, especially with your dad being here?”
“Uh… any goal feels good, but of course when my family is here, it’s always good.”
“I saw your dad, Quinton, in the locker room before the game.Did he have any words of wisdom for you and the team?”
“The same thing he always says.Games are won with pucks in the net, so put some pucks in the net, boys.”
“Good words to hear.Congratulations on your win, Julian.”
“Thanks.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
WYATT
November 26
The grocery store was exactly as I expected it would be the day before Thanksgiving.It was as if everyone in Deadwood decided today would be the day to shop.But the Cool Whip was secure in the trunk and so were the buns and the last-minute added cream of mushroom soup.
As much as I hated the grocery store, it was better than where I sat now.The nondescript building was tucked down some side street in Deadwood.Christmas lights had been strung on the two large spruce trees that flanked the door.A silver cross was stuck to the wall with the words “St.Mary’s” under it.
The light snow that had fallen last night was melting, making the air damp and cold.Inside, the tile floors reflected the florescent light, and the powerful smell of cleaner and age hung heavy in the air.A large reception desk and wall of windows separated St.Mary’s from the rest of the world.
“Can I help you?”the receptionist said, shuffling papers.
“Yes.”I stepped forward, still not sure why I was here.“I’m here to see Vail Halliday.”
“Are you family?”The woman still hadn’t looked up.
“Yes.I’m her youngest daughter.”Cheery Christmas music was playing.I could see people through the reinforced glass.Some were milling around.Some scooted along in wheelchairs.I couldn’t picture my mother here.She wasn’t old.
“I’ll need an ID, and you’ll need to fill out this form.Have you traveled internationally?”she asked, pulling out some forms and putting them on a clipboard.A white name tag with a candy cane stuck to it read Crystal Peterson.“Any illness?Cough, fever, vomiting?”
“No.”I handed her my ID and took the clipboard.
“Las Vegas?”Crystal said, looking at the ID.“People actually live there?”
“Yeah, about three million people.Do you have a pen?”
She handed one to me, along with my ID after scanning it.“I’ll see if she can have visitors.You can have a seat over there.”
I sat down and scanned the paper.Questions about where I had been in the past three months.Any illness.My full name, address, and phone numbers.My relationship to the patient.I hadn’t realized it had gotten this bad.I finished the paperwork and handed it back to Crystal.
