There’s another person I need to talk to. Now that I know my eyes are good, I need to tell Val. Better yet, as soon as practice is over, I’m heading to her work to take her out to lunch. I’ll be starved by then and need the caloric intake.
Stick in hand, I head down the tunnel and step out onto the ice. The cold air hits my face, and I soak in the feeling of being back at practice.I’m no longer banned!If anything, my grin widens as I lap the rink. I ignore the guys’ looks and enjoy the rightness of being here once again. When I finish making a turn around the entire area, I pick up my pace, then cut to the middle where the pucks sit. I slap one right into the net.
“Goal!” I shout, throwing my hands up in the air.
The arena is so silent you can quite literally hear a pin drop. In this case, I hear a clattering of hockey sticks before the team surrounds me. My body jolts from their slaps against my pads.
“How did you make that shot?”
“Can you believe that?”
“Are you well enough to play?”
The last question comes from Raimo, and the team quiets. He’s eyeing me like he’s afraid to hope but also wants to very much.
“My vision has been restored.”
“What do you mean?” Tae asks.
“Even I think that was questionable English,” Pascal quips.
I chuckle. “I can see. Got a clean bill of health from the docs. But I have to convince Coach I’m not rusty and can play in our next game.”
Javier’s eyes widen. “You can see me?”
“That guppy expression on your face?”
He nods.
“Yeah. I can also see Trevor putting bunny ears behind you and Pascal crossing his eyes.” I fold my arms across my chest. “I can do this all day, fellas.”
“You’re back,” Javier whispers.
I stare him right in the face. “I was blind but now I see.”
His eyes mist over, then he yanks me into a hug, pounding my back hard enough to remove all air from my lungs.
A whistle pierces the air.
Coach skates onto the ice. “I’m assuming y’all heard Crank’s good news.”
The guys cheer, but Coach holds his hands up.
“Now, now. Don’t get all riled up. Let’s see how he plays before we start rethinking the lines and who’s playing where.”
“Bet,” Raimo says.
We get to work.
I’m not going to lie. Iama little rusty, but thankfully, skating is second nature, and the hockey club I’ve been playing with kept me in decent enough shape. There’s no issue with my speed, just my stamina. Coach’s hockey drills are intense, and soon I’m sweating along with everyone else.
Coach is right. I’ll need more practice before I’m ready to lace up and face our opponents. We’ve got about six games left in the regular season, and the playoffs are beckoning to us. Hopefully, I’ll be back in the game before the regular season is over. If not, I have a high chance of playing in the playoffs.
After half an hour, Coach calls for a break, and I down some water.
He glides up to me. “How you doing?”
“I might need a couple of practices before I’m back,” I pant.
