Page 49 of Until We Burn
KAI
It’s game day.
Travis Scott makes the locker room walls shudder and vibrate. The boys bob their heads along to the beat as they get into gear.
I reach for my jocks and pull them on with shaking hands.
I’ve put everything I’ve got into the last few practices leading up to this day. Pent-up anticipation rages inside of me now; I’m just restless and eager to get out there and snatch the first win of the season.
Luke snorts at something on his phone. “Guys! Guys! Check this out.”
He smacks Rowan and me on the arm, making us gather around his cubby to look at a photo his dad sent him.
Ron King squishes Aunt Edie and Uncle Manu into a group hug. The tension on my face cracks as I smile at their matching DHU Griffins merch.
After the boys and I moved to Vancouver for university, the three of them became close after realizing they had empty nests. Ever since first year, they’ve always come down from Surrey together to watch us play in the first game of the season.
“Aw, that’s amazing.” I nudge Luke’s shoulder. “Send that to me.”
“You got it, bro!”
My smile suddenly falls. Lurking in the corner behind Ron is a familiar neon green poster that shows my face caked in powder and smoke.
Panic swells in my chest until it swallows me up. I shoot to my feet and shove my way to the washroom. My eye twitches. I jerk the faucet on and scrub cold water over my face. I do it again and again until my attention hitches onto the sound of water surging out of the tap and the painfully cold splashes sinking into my skin. They tether and ground my thoughts back to reality.
But it’s like taming a pack of wolves with a string. They jerk at the restraints, trying to take control and break mine.
No matter how hard I work on the ice, I fucking hate that I fall apart at a single sign of my reputation being mocked and slandered. An old therapist said it comes from a fear of never reaching my dream of playing for the NHL. It’s such bullshit, though, because the greats have their reputations torn apart all the time. If I can’t handle this now, how can I handle it later?
My grip tightens around the sink. I stare into the mirror, my attention drawn to the tattoo that trails all the way from my right shoulder down to my wrist. It sinks me back into a memory I’ll always cling onto.
“These tattoos are important to our culture, Kainoa. They tell the story of your lineage and your life path. Lolo didn’t just spend three hours listening to you talk about yourself for no reason.”
Eighteen and insecure, I look up at Uncle Manu for reassurance. He sits crisscrossed beside me while I lie back on a bamboo mat. Across from him, Lolo is preparing to ink my skin.
“Someday, your parents are gonna understand why you chose this route. Even if that never happens, I want you to stand tall in your convictions and never let anyone make you forget them.” He holds out his hand with a confidence I've always admired. “Soyez fiers jusqu'à la fin.”
Be proud until the end.
Those words awaken enough strength and courage for me to grin back at him.
I clap his hand in mine just as the needle comes over my skin.
“Soyez fiers jusqu'à la fin.”
My hand runs over the line of spearheads that symbolizes victory in battle, or in my case, victory on the ice; I trace the edges of the curved five-pronged symbol that represents Uncle Manu’s steady presence in my life, and I linger on the vivid black patterns set side to side, the gaps of unmarked skin looking like eyes peeking out. It’s my favorite part of the whole tattoo because it renders a spirit that’s fuelled with good luck, giving power to the one wearing their mark. All of it is woven together by bold, black shapes and rounded lines that trace the chronology of my life: My journey of venturing from the sea to the snow, deciding to go against the carefully laid path of business to play hockey in Canada, and the courage and determination six-year-old Kai had to make this decision.
“Hey, Kai!” Rowan shouts, “There’s someone here for you.”
A grin breaks across my face. I quickly put on the rest of my gear before I rush towards the main doors of the locker room.
Uncle Manu’s eyes light up when he sees me. He grins, revealing a row of knocked-out teeth.
“There he is!”
I crush him to my chest. Uncle Manu cackles and thumps my back. “You ready?”
“Always.”
