ChapterFour
Noah
Noel is at the big table in the lounge area of the firehouse, an iPad propped up in front of him, playing footage of last year's game.He has a legal pad and a pen, and he's taking copious notes; every once in a while, he grips the pen in his curled-in lips, rewinds the footage, watches a specific play again and again and again before letting the tape run.He has glasses on, which is new.
I whack his shoulder as I pass him on the way to the coffee pot."Ifyou'rewearing readers, thenIam officially old as fuck."
"Well, youareold as fuck, obviously,” he says, “but these aren't readers, they're blue-blockers.Watching tape always gives me headaches."He flips the tablet closed and tosses the pen onto the table in front of him."I like our lineup this year.Not having Bill on the ice is a hit to our offense, but having him behind the bench takes some of the pressure off me."
Bill Ryerson tripped at home the other day and broke his wrist, taking him out of the game as a player, so he’s filling in as an assistant coach to Noel.He's younger than me but older than Noel, and a talented hockey player; as Noel said, losing him at center is going to suck offensively, but he's as experienced a coach as he is a player.He and I have been Tomlin Falls' primary hockey coaches for more than twenty years.
"Who's taking his place on the O-line?"I ask.
"Well, O'Shaughnessy can play offense or defense equally well," Noel answers, "so I'm thinking I put Juarez on the D-line and move Connie to the center."Connie is Conroy O'Shaughnessy, a ten-year FD vet and solid hockey player.He's not showy or flashy, but he's reliable, powerful, and a real scrapper behind the net.Adam Juarez is a new hire—a transfer from Ketchikan.He played D1 hockey as a starter on the D-line for the U of M Golden Gophers.He's a big lad, a bruiser who's quick to drop the gloves for his teammates; he's a hell of a defenseman besides, and was instrumental in leading the Gophers to a Frozen Four championship his senior year.As a firefighter, he's proven invaluable, quick on his feet despite his size, with excellent instincts.He's a great addition to the department and to the FD hockey team.
"Works for me."I sit kitty-corner to him with a mug of coffee in my hands.
He drops his glasses on the table and eyes me."Still getting reps in before shift?"
I nod."I am.I try to get ninety minutes in, sometimes a couple of hours.I usually manage to get in there twice a week, sometimes three.”
He nods."Good, good.Not gonna lie, with Bill behind the bench, we're gonna need your leadership on the ice more than ever."
"Just saying, youcouldleave the coaching to Bill and lace up the ol' skates, son.The town would love to see you show us your fancy NHL moves."
Noel shakes his head immediately."Nah.I'm not a show pony, Pops.Plus, when I'm on the ice, I've got one setting, and that's maximal intensity."A shrug.“That wouldn’t end up well for anyone.”
"I know, I know," I say."Just putting it out there."
"I have thought about it because I obviously miss playing.But this is about the community.If I go out there, especially with the added attention the game is getting this year, it'd become the Noel Austin show, and I don't want to and will not let it become about me.It's not.It's about raising money in Mom’s honor."
I cover his hand."I understand, son, and I respect that.I just figure there's gotta be a part of you that's dyin' to get back out there."
He lets out a gusting sigh, raking his hands through longish, messy, dark blonde hair."Fuck, Dad, you’ve gotnoidea.I'm behind that bench watching the play, and I find myself leaning and shifting, trying to make them do what I’d do.Like when Mom would hit the invisible brakes when you were driving."
I laugh, shaking my head."God, that drove me nuts.Someone in freaking Kamchatka sniffs their brake pedal, and Taylor would gasp and stomp her foot like we were a split second from wrecking."
He cackles."The Mom Arm was the best."
I frown."Mom Arm?"
He throws out his arm sideways with a freaked-out gasp, exactly the way Taylor used to."If she had to hit the brakes unexpectedly, she'd throw out the Mom Arm like an extra seatbelt."
I snort."Oh, that.Yeah.She did that to me, once…while I was driving."
"Her protective instincts ran deep, I guess," he says.
I swallow hard, nodding."That they did.Bone deep."
He gets up and pours coffee into a TFFD mug and sits back down, sipping noisily."Heard you had a little incident with Morgan Wheeler at practice the other day."
I frown."You did?From who?"
"Gotta protect my sources, Pops."
"It wasn't an incident."
"I was told she stormed off."
