Chapter Eight #2
Nate pointed the key fob at his “iced mocha” Navigator.
Man, he loved this car. The color, the luxuries—he loved the whole package.
Nate braced Wesley’s arm as the man gingerly settled himself into the passenger seat, wincing as he maneuvered the seatbelt across his chest. Nate jogged around to the driver’s side.
“You wouldn’t happen to know a really good local mechanic, would you?” he asked, climbing into his seat and pushing the start button. The engine revved to life.
“Is there something wrong with it?” Wesley asked, wincing as he attempted to reach across his body and secure his seatbelt.
“No, but I want one in my back pocket. I love this car, and I want someone who’s gonna look past my salary and be honest about its condition.” Nate buckled himself in.
“Thanks,” said Wesley. “And no, I don’t know a local mechanic. I can ask around the school once I’m back at work.”
Nate nodded. “Much appreciated. Which way?”
“Highway 75 south, also known as 480. We’ll stay on that for a good twenty, twenty-five minutes. Then exit Webster Road.”
Within ten minutes, they were at cruising speed and headed south.
“We talked mostly about my teaching career over lunch. You didn’t tell me how your morning went. Did you get all your fittings done or whatever?”
“I did. Tried on my interim mask and pads. Freddie, the head equipment manager, took note of all my preferences as though I was royalty. We talked for, like, forty-five minutes and all the while he keyed everything in to a database that all the equipment guys use.” Excitement bubbled up in his chest again as he talked.
“Fancy. But why interim? What will happen to them?”
Nate glanced at Wesley. His head rested on the seat, but he rolled it in Nate’s direction.
“Custom masks and pads take time. They might be ready in time for the pre-season, but I couldn’t take that chance, so I got some plain gear in the team colors.
” He’d left his Lumberjacks gear in Portland when he’d left.
His trade wasn’t mid-season, so he hadn’t needed to haul it halfway across the country.
Part of him wished he had all those dark red and green pieces now so he could toss them in a dumpster and set them on fire.
“Once the custom stuff comes in, the interim gear becomes my backup gear.”
“Oh. That makes sense.”
“After I was done with Freddie, a very charming little old Black man named Tyrone showed me my stalls, both in the practice rink and in the main arena. Nice and roomy, a little larger than standard to hold all the extra gear goalies have.”
Wesley glanced at him and Nate saw the smile. “You look and sound a lot happier than you did that first night at the club.”
“Well, yeah. My feelings about this trade have done a one-eighty. At first, I was pissed. I was so damned pissed. They wouldn’t have the Cup without me and a few lucky calls and bounces.
But now—what I’ve seen so far of the facilities, this organization should be the gold-standard for every team in the league. ”
“Really? They’re that awesome?”
“And then some.” Nate laughed, exhilaration filling him. “I can’t even tell you.”
“I’m really happy for you, Nate. I remember how dejected and sullen you seemed when we first met.” Wesley’s voice went soft, quiet.
Nate found the shift in his mindset pretty wild as well.
“Why’d they trade you anyway?”
“You don’t know?”
“Not a sports fan, sorry.” Wesley shrugged.
Nate glanced at him, surprised. He’d thought the whole world knew. Maybe just the hockey world then. “It made the national news.”
“Not a fan of the news, either. My co-workers talk, of course, so I’ll check social media or Google if it concerns me. I stream my music, so I rarely listen to the radio.”
Nate swiped the turn signal to exit the highway. He’d never been this far south, so he took in the lack of houses and the abundance of farm fields.
“Look, sharing isn’t a requirement or obligation, and I won’t go trolling the Internet for the story. I mean, I’m a gay schoolteacher who hides his femme side and his penchant for—”
“Yeah, I get that,” Nate said, wincing at his waspish tone.
He throttled back his anger. Took a breath.
“Sorry. Thing is, despite every precaution taken inside the club, the photos had been snapped outside—in the parking lot—by someone with a phone and no respect for privacy.” Nate slowed on the slope of the off ramp. “Left or right?”
“Oh, sorry. Left. The road will curve a bit, just stay on it until you see the gas station and then take the second left onto Avenue G.”
Nate nodded. “Pictures of me face down in a Portland club parking lot ended up on hockey Twitter. The Lumberjacks weren’t impressed, so they traded me. Didn’t ask questions, didn’t get my side of the story. I found out on my Cup Day.”
“That’s right. You mentioned that the other night.”
“Yeah.” The anger continued to smolder, but every new experience with the Locomotives added another splash of flame retardant to the still-glowing embers.
“For the record, I got the shit kicked out of me for stepping into an ongoing altercation,” Nate said, turning onto Avenue G. “I wasn’t drunk. Hadn’t had a drop.”
“If me being super femme bothers you, you can just drop me off. Turn at the next left and go straight until you can’t anymore and then pull into my driveway.”
Nate couldn’t care less about Wesley’s brand of gay, but he was too focused on maneuvering his boat of a vehicle through the narrow street crowded with parked cars to give the sort of response Wesley needed.
He held his breath through a couple of tight squeezes.
The silence continued until Nate came to a stop next to an older model Camry with a patchy paint job.
Nate let out his breath as he scanned the faded mobile home in front of him. The front door was askew. “Did you leave your front open?” Nate asked.
Wesley sat up and gasped. “No, of course not,” he said, voice shaky, as he popped open the door.
“Stop.” Nate grabbed his arm.
Wesley stopped, turned slowly, eyes open enough despite the swelling for Nate to note their color. Hazel. And his face, despite the bruising, paled.
“We have to call the police.”
Wesley’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Oh, God. Okay.”
Why the prospect of calling the police made him look even more nervous made Nate wonder.