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I’m carrying a large duffle bag full of D.C. Eagles stuffed animals, but I pretend I’m holding a cane instead, and start walking the way an old man would. “Boy howdy, young man. I think I forgot my dentures.”
He studies my mouth. “Naw, your teeth still look great. Thank goodness for implants.”
I snort a laugh and throw an arm around his shoulders. “No joke. We’d all be toothless.”
“Speak for yourself, mine are all real.” He waggles his blond eyebrows.
“Maybe we all should wear goalie masks.”
He ponders for a second, then nods. “Wouldn’t hurt.”
We enter the large sliding doors at the front of the hospital then walk to the front desk. Norris, an older gentleman who mans the desk, recognizes us and smiles. “Good to see you both, how’s training going?”
Bruce grins. “We’re working hard, man. But I love it. Happy to be back on the ice.”
He hands us our badges and we slide the lanyards around our necks before taking the elevator up to the cancer treatment floor. When Tom Parker, the Eagles’ general manager, first asked me to volunteer with the children’s hospital, I was hesitant. I knew it would be sad, seeing the sick kids. But that first day I realized how much joy we brought them by visiting, and it brought me joy too.
It would suck to be stuck in the same room for weeks, or even months at a time. Our visits break up their time here and give them something to look forward to. Half of them don’t even know who we are, they’re simply thrilled to have a new face to look at.
When we step off the elevator, Nurse Becky greets us. She thinks she’s my number one fan… but she’s one of a million. This is probably why I’m drawn to a certain professor. The one and only woman who doesn’t think I have rainbows shooting out of my ass.
“Hi, Colby.” She looks up at me with her sweet smile. She has a freckled nose and two reddish, blonde braids that hit right at her shoulders. “And Bruce!” she adds on.
Bruce shoots me a side eye before she can see it. Bruce tells me I’m an attention whore, and he doesn’t get any chicks when I’m around. I tell him chicks aren’t into blonds. Then we fight and go round and round about it. It’s our thing.
We turn our attention back to nurse Becky and smile at her before she ushers us toward the first room. We usually trail her as she makes her rounds. The kids who haven’t seen us before always seem comforted by her presence.
We come to the first room; I know this one. It’s Broderick, a six-year-old boy with leukemia. His face lights up when we walk inside. I shake the duffle bag I’ve been carrying, and he claps his hands together.
“Hey, bud. You get first pick of the goodies today,” I tell him, unzipping the bag and coming toward him. His parents are on the little sofa in the corner of the room, smiling as they watch.
He takes a quick peek at the various stuffed animals, choosing a stuffed eagle clothed in a number twenty-seven jersey… my number.
“Great choice, man!” I wink at him, knowing Bruce is right beside me, probably annoyed.
“You know, Broderick…” Bruce grabs an eagle from the bag, one that’s wearing his own number thirty-nine, and sits at the foot of the hospital bed. “Goalie is arguably the most important position on a hockey team.”
Broderick glances between the two eagles; I note his new cap is made from D.C. Eagles fabric and smile to myself.
“It’s a really hard choice.”
Bruce chuckles and hands him the Eagle in his hand. “You can have both. Our little secret, okay?”
The boy’s dark eyes widen. “Really? Okay, I won’t tell.”
Bruce pretends he’s locking up his mouth and throwing away the key, pulling a hearty laugh from Broderick. It’s the best sound. I glance at his parents; his mom’s eyes are filled with tears and his dad has his arm around her. I wonder if Broderick’s laughter isn’t something they get to hear often.
We talk to Broderick about preseason training camp and who our first game is against before he starts yawning. Nurse Becky gets our attention, nodding once so we know it’s time to let him rest and head to the next room.
The next room is a little girl, probably around the age of ten. I haven’t seen her before, but she’s wearing a wig that’s bright pink and makes her blue eyes pop. There’s a woman seated in an armchair beside her bed, she has the same blue eyes so I’m assuming it’s her mom.
I peek at the dry erase board to find out her name as I walk to her bedside. “Well, hello there Emma.”
She smiles bashfully then looks down at her blanket. “Hi,” she whispers, peering up at us for a second.
Bruce rests his hip against the bed and grins at her. “Your hair is awesome. Do you think mine would look cute in that color?”
She purses her lips together, trying not to laugh. But shakes her head slowly from side to side.
