Chapter 41
Jabari
“Put me in, Coach.”
Coach looks up from his computer. “What in the world are you talking about, Crank?” His brow furrows as he stares at me quizzically.
“Guess you haven’t talked to Doc lately?”
He shakes his head slowly. “What are you trying to tell me?”
Before I can reply, his desk phone rings.
“Coach Turner. . . . Hey, Doc, everything okay?” His brows raise.
I watch with glee as his mouth drops, and his wide-eyed gaze latches on to me. He waves a hand in front of my face slowly. I wave back, then laugh when he drops the phone.
“Holy—” His words aren’t fit for kids’ ears but definitely not the worst thing I’ve heard in a locker room.
He picks up the phone just to hang up. “You can see?” he asks in wonder.
“Every single expression on your face.”
Coach stands up and comes around the desk and flops into the chair beside me. “How?”
“God gave me a miracle.”
“No, seriously. How?”
I tell him everything from the moment I had the CT scan in Jersey to now, including my time talking to God and going to Javier’s church.
How when Ms. Elaine prayed for me, an overwhelming peace came upon me.
I figured it solidified what I already knew, sight or no sight, God has my back.
I also can’t discount Javier’s prayers either.
When I woke this morning, my vision was crystal clear. Immediately, I called the team docs, who had me go to the hospital for another round of testing. Like last time, my scans are perfect and show no issues with my eyes or my brain. The headaches have completely left me as well.
Coach sits back, a stunned look on his face. “This can’t be real.”
“You just talked to Doc.”
“Yeah, but maybe they need to run the tests again.”
“Coach, this isn’t my first set of tests. My eyesight confirms what the last test showed. I’m good.”
“You’re rusty,” he spits out, but I can tell under that bluster is a misty-eyed man.
“Actually, I’ve been playing with a low-vision group at a rink near my place. I also never stopped working out. I’m probably not as rusty as you’d think.” I raise my brows, asking the silent question. Will he put me back in?
“How ’bout we talk after practice, then? Go on.” He shoos me away. “They’ll be out there in ten minutes if they haven’t already beaten the assistant coaches to the ice.”
“You won’t be sorry.”
I hurry to the locker room and knock into Javier walking out.
“Whoa, Crank. Where you going so fast? You trying to get hurt?”
I grin. “Nah, I’m good, Javier. ’Bout to lace up.”
He frowns. “Thought Coach said no more skating?”
“He just gave me a free pass.” I hook a thumb over my shoulder to indicate where I came from.
“You need help?”
I shake my head. He’ll see. He’ll get it the moment I slide onto the ice.
Because while I could skate perfectly without aid when my vision was impaired, I couldn’t see the puck to save my life. When I played with the low-vision club, they had a modified puck that made noise and is a lot bigger than NHL regulation.
I can’t wait to slap the biscuit into the net and show the guys what I can do.
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. I am a 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.
He nods slowly. “So you’ll be practicing every day is what you’re saying.”
“Definitely.”
“Get yourself in shape for the game Friday. That means you maintain your spot on the injured list Tuesday and Wednesday. Thursday, last possible moment allowed, we’ll pull you off IR.”
My heart pounds in my ears. “You sure, Coach?”
“Definitely. We don’t have to play you the average fifteen minutes. Even a good five minutes’ worth of game play could make a difference.”
“You’re thinking of putting me on second line?”
Before he can respond, Pascal, Javier, Tae, and Trevor skate up to the coach.
“I’m not going to be bullied.” Coach holds up his hands as if to say Back off.
“Hear us out.” Pascal holds up his stick. “We already know how to work well with Crank. It makes the most sense to put him back on our line. Less memory work for him and gives him the ability to focus on increasing his stamina.”
“Not to mention we can all practice with him on our own time,” Javier adds.
“We’ll get him up to speed, Coach,” Tae adds.
Coach looks at every one of us, and his gaze stops at me. “You good with this?”
“Yes.” No, I’m ecstatic. Getting back to hockey is more than a dream.
I may be thirty-three, but I’m not ready to call it quits just yet.
Plus, I don’t want a life in biz ops. It’s nice being able to talk hockey with potential benefactors, but it’s not the same as being on the ice.
When I am ready to retire, I’d like to coach vision-impaired youth.
“Fine. Show me what you got at Thursday’s practice. You’re lucky we’ve got home games this week.” Coach skates away.
I turn to my line. “Thanks, guys.”
“Pathetic.” Pascal shakes his head. “Imagine losing stamina in three measly months.” He holds up his thumb and first two fingers, looking at me with mock disappointment.
“Guess you better get me in shape,” I taunt.
“Bring it, pretty boy. You’ll be hurting so bad you won’t even be able to skate to the ice bath.”
I laugh. This is what I’ve missed. The camaraderie, the encouragement. Yeah, I will be wishing for that ice bath to come to me instead of the other way around when this is all over, but hard work is never a bad thing.
“Let’s do this.”
The guys pound me on the back, and we dive right back into practice.