Splash,
We played the Bruins last night. Packed house, completely deafening. I scored the game winner in the third period, and when the buzzer went off, and the whole arena stood up, all I could think about was how much you would have hated the noise. You always said civilian crowds were too loud.
Donovan tried to drag me out to a bar to celebrate, but I couldn’t do it. I came back to the hotel, ordered a pizza that tasted like cardboard, and boxed up another shipment for you. This one has triple chocolate chip cookies. Don’t let the other guys in your unit steal them. If they try, tell them I will fly down and sort them out myself.
Also, an update on Puck. That little guy is officially trying to make the roster. This morning, I was rushing to grab my gear for practice and couldn’t find him anywhere. After twentyminutes of tearing the house apart, I finally heard a muffled ‘meow’ coming from inside my massive equipment bag. That little troublemaker had burrowed deep into my chest protector, treating it like his own personal sleeping bag! He didn’t even look guilty when I pulled him out; he just looked annoyed I’d interrupted his nap. I’m pretty sure he’s trying to practice his goalie stance; he’s been swatting at my socks for the last hour!
I know the silence over there must be loud right now, Soldier. I know you’re fighting a different kind of war in those barracks. But I’m still here. I’m holding the line on this side for you. Every single game, every single shift.
Just breathe, my soldier. I’ve got you.
Jackson
57
Jackson
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm that had nothing to do with the pregame rush. As I skated out in that camouflage jersey, the usual roar of the arena felt muted, replaced by a cold, heavy weight in my gut. I hadn’t received a letter from Splash in weeks. Every time the silence stretched, the worry gnawed at me. Was he hurting? Was he even still there? I felt like I was holding my breath, waiting for a signal that wouldn’t come. But then I looked up and saw Anna and Cory in my seats, and a small, bright anchor of hope caught in my chest. Seeing them safe and smiling had to mean the world was still turning, and I had to believe that meant Splash was ok, too. Tonight wasn’t just a game; it was a vigil. I was determined to make it count.
The game itself was a brutal, relentless grind. Every hit felt personal, every shift a battle for a man I’d never met. We were tied deep into the third, the tension in the rink thick enough to choke on. I poured every ounce of my frustration and my hopeinto the ice, and when the final buzzer sounded on our hard-fought win, I felt a wave of relief so sharp it made my head spin. I was steered immediately toward the media zone, the cameras and microphones blinding under the harsh lights. “Jackson, incredible win on Military Appreciation Night,” a reporter pressed. “What did this mean to you?” I wiped the sweat from my eyes and looked straight into the lens, thinking of the man behind the ducks. “Tonight was everything,” I said, my voice thick. “It’s about letting people know they’re seen and valued. Even if they are miles away. Every shift tonight was for them.”
I took a breath, ignoring the flashes, locking my eyes on the lens because I wasn’t talking to the press anymore. I was talking to the desert. “People see the uniform, and they see the heroes, but they don’t see the cost. They don’t see the weight of the silence that these guys carry when they’re off-duty, or the war that doesn’t stop just because the sun goes down. There are men and women out there right now, thousands of miles away from a home they aren’t even sure they have anymore, who are fighting a battle that no one else can hear. Tonight, I wanted to do more than just wear a jersey. I wanted to tell them that they aren’t invisible. That even in the deepest, darkest parts of their deployment, someone is always here for them. That they have a home crowd, even if they can’t hear the cheering yet. This wasn’t for the record books. It was for the men and women who are still out there, holding it together when the rest of the world has forgotten what it’s like to live in the quiet.”
I excused myself as quickly as I could, my only focus finding Anna and Cory by the entrance. Cory was clutching the custom jersey I’d got him, his eyes wide. “That was incredible, Jackson,” Anna said, her gratitude written in her tired smile. “My dad always said you were a fast skater, but wow, you were really fast!” Cory shouted, and I knelt down, my heart aching. “Your dad was a hero, Cory. He loved you more than anything.” Ilooked up at Anna, the silent question burning in my throat,Is Ryan ok?She just shook her head, her eyes red. “No word, Jackson. We’re still waiting, but thank you. Thank you for tonight. We had a great time. It’s great to do this with Cory, he loves hockey just as much as his dad did.” My chest tightened, but I just nodded. I’d keep writing. I’d keep holding on. I look up into the bright stadium lights, hoping and praying that Splash is out there somewhere, fighting like I know he can.
58
Letter
Splash,
These letters haven’t been returned to sender, so I assume you’re still getting them. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Just know that I miss talking to you. I wish I could hear your voice and give you massive cuddles. I miss you.
The trainers are mad at me because I’m refusing to take off this camouflage wristband I wore for Military Appreciation Night. They say it violates the team dress code. I told them they can fine me whatever they want; it’s staying on, at least until I hear from you.
I was sitting on the couch just now, re-reading your last letter because I really miss you. I set the letter down on the coffee table for two seconds, and it was gone! I found a certain little four-legged tiger under the dining room table, batting your letter back and forth like it was some kind of prizedtrophy. He had the corner of the envelope in his teeth, and when I tried to take it away, he literally growled at me. Not a cute kitten growl, but a serious ‘back the fuck off” warning. He curled up right on top of it, purring like a chainsaw, and gave me this look like I was the intruder! I swear, he’s never acted like that with any of my stuff. I think he knows exactly who wrote that letter, and he’s decided he likes you a hell of a lot better than his own foster dad. I’m currently sitting on the floor negotiating for my own mail, and I think I’m finally losing it!
Not cookies this time, but my actual jersey from that night. I played the entire game for you and Brody. With each letter I send, I promise to keep trying to make you see how worthy of happiness you truly are. Yours always.
Jackson
59
Letter
Splash,
The guys taped my entire locker shut today. Every single piece of gear was completely covered in heavy-duty packing tape. I had to spend twenty minutes hacking through it with a skate blade while the whole locker room laughed. I played along, obviously. I did a whole dramatic comedy routine, bowing and making jokes, because that’s who I am to them. Jackson, the fucking Joker. The guy who never takes anything seriously.
But I hated every second of it today.
I didn’t want to laugh, Splash. I wanted to tell them to shut the hell up. I wanted to tell them that the only person whose laugh I actually care about hearing is thousands of miles away, hurting in the dark. I’m so tired of wearing the mask. I’m so tired of being the team clown when my heart feels like it’s being crushed in a vice.
I only feel like the real me when I’m writing these to you. I don’t have to put on a show here. I can just be Jackson. The guy who misses you.
You don’t have to put on a show for me either. I know you’re locked down over there, hiding who you are from everyone around you. But I see you. I know exactly who you are, and I’m holding onto him until you come home to me, where you belong.
Jackson
