Haunting Hallucinations

I met up with my old friend Jonathan Drouin to hang out for the day together, before the preseason officially began and it was time to shake off the familiar rust. Though I was a Colorado Avalanche player and he was a Tampa Bay Lightning prospect/rookie, we were going to be on the ice helping each other out. It was going to be a fun day and it would be nice to see my old Halifax Moosehead friend again. I remembered being the one who would drive him around, mostly to practice. I couldn’t wait to see him.

I pulled up to the Halifax rink, where we were holding the practice. A lot of other people were there too. Sidney Crosby, my idol, Brad Marchand, the Bruins’ pest, as well as a few other alumni people. And it was also going to be during Sidney’s birthday. It was going to be a fun event.

I walked inside and got myself ready quickly. I jumped on the ice, instantly spotting my friend. I snuck up to him and gave him a gentle cross-check in welcome. He crashed to the ice, dropping his stick. He landed on all fours. I laughed as he spun his head around and glared at me playfully.

“Hiya, Jo!”

“Nate, long time no see. I hear you’ve been well.” He scrambled to his skates and gave me a friendly cross-check back. I maintained my balance though.

“Well, I don’t want to brag, but yes...you’ve heard correctly.”

“Winning the Calder Trophy, man. What an honor and accomplishment and you of all people deserve it!”

“Thanks Jo. You’ll get it this year!”

“I sure hope so! It would be a privilege!”

“Ha-ha, don’t let it all go to your head though. Focus on helping the team out first. A trophy is lovely and nice, but it’s nothing compared to Stanley!”

“Ain’t that the truth!” Jonathan Drouin laughed.

We continued conversing for a little bit more, talking about our summer and what we’d been doing since we split up, entering the draft. When we were done, I took a puck from the blue line and we warmed up, passing the disk back and forth between both of our blades. When we were confident that we were ready, we goofed around. We raced around the rink, laughing and having a blast.

After Jo instigated a little battle with me, (and with us both chasing one another back and forth like a weird game of “tag”) I flew down the side of the rink on my third lap, chasing after my Halifax friend. He slammed me into the boards and I wasn’t ready for it. I crashed into the glass and crumbled into a heap on the ice. I scrambled back to my skates and launched after him, laughing.

Before long, I collided with Brad Marchand, the Boston Bruins’ pest. He and Sidney were actually the two leaders and captains of the event. They were in charge and running everything. I liked Sid, but I wasn’t sure why Brad was assisting him. Anyway, the small winger with a fiery temper was standing in the wing conversing with a few other players, including Sidney. I saw him too late, as I tried to pull back and brake with my skates. I didn’t “brake” fast enough and it was too late for me to try and go around, deke, or avoid him. Instead I hit him hard, sending us both crashing to the ice.

“MACKINNON!!” Brad roared, as he retaliated. He punched me in the face with his glove and shoved me to the side, off of him.

“Hey, sorry man.”

“Be careful! You can’t start injuring me before we match up together in the regular season!”

“I said I’m sorry!”

“Nathan, Brad, knock it off! No one is fighting or hurting anyone. This is supposed to be fun!”

“Says a Pittsburgh Penguin!” Brad spat, as he scrambled to his feet and brushed himself off. He pulled at the front of his jersey, to situate it to his liking. He wore a furious expression the entire time.

“Marchy!” Sidney scolded. “This is for fun, let the chirping and toughness go, will ya?”

Sidney put an arm around the small Bruin, who rolled his eyes.

“I can’t help but snap at him. He hit me illegally!”

“Yeah, well you need to work on your discipline still and this is supposed to be a ‘fun’ event, not at all to be taken seriously!”

I saw Jonathan Drouin make a beeline for the group. He came over and helped me up to my skates. We stood together and watched Sidney guide Brad over to the bench. They chatted with one another, before Brad finally smiled his classic cheesy grin and cross-checked Sidney backward.

“You Pittsburgh guys, always doing something dumb!” Brad laughed, as he skated back over and halted before me.

Sidney followed him and folded his arms. He supervised the action like a parent would do if two siblings had a fight.

“Sorry for snapping at you, Nathan. I understand it was an accident.”

“Thank you Marchy. I’ll be more aware next time!”

“You’d better, cause next time I may beat you to a pulp!” He winked.

“Marchy!” Sidney scolded again.

“Just kidding. But seriously I’ll keep this in mind for the regular season. I’m going to get you on the ice, Nathan MacKinnon! When the Avs play the Bruins, you are dead meat! Keep your head up!” Brad brushed past him, heading for a lonely puck at center ice. He scooped it into his stick blade and spun around. “Now let’s play some hockey girls!”

I saw Sidney roll his eyes playfully and then they all grouped together and the scrimmage began. Jo and I were planted across from one another on different teams. It was a classic case of East vs West and I was in the West. Sidney and Brad were with Jo. I was stuck alone and with other western Halifax alumni players. At one point during the game, I remember that I was focused…a little too focused. I zoomed back to prevent a goal from happening and I got a bit carried away. I slammed into my friend Jo, separating him from the puck.

He flew to the side, crashing into the boards and landed awkwardly on his hand. I knew immediately that I had hurt him. I shook myself from the intense “game focus” I had and skated over to him. He was cradling his left hand and he was exuding tremendous amounts of agony, as he doubled over, trying to bite back the pain.

“Jo…”

“Go away Kinny! I don’t want to talk to you right now!”

“Okay…” I was a bit bewildered at how harsh he sounded. I was highly concerned about him and his welfare. I didn’t mean to hurt him and I knew that I’d gotten carried away and I needed to calm down.

“I think my thumb is broken!” Jo wailed.

“Jo, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it!” I reached forward, toward him, attempting to comfort him. I wanted him to know that I didn’t mean it. I was willing to apologize and help him out. He swatted at my hand and I drew back in shock.

“GO AWAY KINNY!!” he screamed at me, moving away from my attempted comfort and then finally howled in pain.

I gazed around, as the play stopped dead. Sidney and Brad, the two captains and players in charge of the event skated over. They looked concerned.

“What happened?” Sidney asked.

“I-I...I think I hurt him!” I stammered, backing away in shock and horror. I couldn’t believe that I had just injured my friend. I hoped that it was nothing and just a little sting. I hoped.

Sidney squatted down to Jo’s level. The Tampa Bay Lightning rookie shakingly removed his glove and showed the Penguin.

“Do you think you can play still?” Sidney asked Jo.

Jo shook his head. As Sidney turned his head to the side, I saw my friend glare at me. I continued to back away. What had I done?

“My thumb is broken, I think. I’ll sit out.”

Sidney and Brad helped Jo up to his skates and over to the bench. He hopped in and sat down. Then the two veteran players zoomed off. I cautiously made my way over to the bench. Jo was still cradling his hand like a newborn baby.

“Jo, I’m really sorry, man. Please, please don’t be mad at me!”

“Kinny, fuck off!” Jo snapped. “You fucking hurt me man and I don’t exactly want to be talking to you right now!”

I stared speechlessly at him. Had I just lost my friend? I struggled for words to say to him, but he spoke again.

“You know what, I could have forgiven you. I really could have. I did for the time you hit me in the head with a puck during an arid pass. And I did when you got taken first in the draft over me. And I really could have when you fucking won the Calder over me! But now you’ve injure me and I will probably have to miss some of the first part of the season because of it! You feelin’ real good about yourself right now? While you get to remain in the league lighting the fucking lamps and scoring a ton of shitty ass goals, I will be at home watching and healing up!”

I took a step back. I was in shock at how pissed off he was.

“When I return, I’m going to kill you! I swear, get a hat trick and see what happens!?”

“Jo--?” That was all I was able to form as a word.

He stood up, kicked the railing of the bench and stormed down the tunnel. I watched as he vanished into the shadows. What had I done?

Notes

So um, yeah, that's why Jo is hurt....? FACT #1: Jonathan Drouin is Nathan MacKinnon's best friend from Halifax. FACT #2: Jo is his real nickname. FACT #3: Jo is actually suffering from a thumb injury, caused by falling on it awkwardly during a warm up practice drill. FICTION: Not over summer or caused by Kinny.
But I thought this idea would be kind of clever. And yes, I think it is pretty obvious what happened to Kinny. Jo is the reason Nathan and Val are hallucinating. However it's going to make compete sense in the next chapter.
I envision Jo as a fiery little guy who can score goals, like if you mixed Marty St. Louis with Andrew Shaw or maybe just a second Corey Perry! ;)

Next up: Jo turns evil and goes after Nathan!