#bro asked me to go night fishing with him in tampa

[psycheternal]

That time a song I was playing on repeat during a walk had a hog snorting sound on one random part of one verse and I kept snatching my headphones out to find out where the gigantic, loose dog was. I even got a dude involved in looking for it with me.

[valencing]

hockey opus part three

hello my esteemed laura @disarmd, i am sure you would agree that a week is not complete without a thoroughly unresearched hockey fiction inspired by your instructions and exhortations. our heroes today are JO SOMEBODY and NATE SOMEBODY ELSE, whom you described as follows:

they played together in minors and NATE WOULD DRIVE JO EVERYWHERE they were together all the time, they had sushi together and were each other’s valentines #confirmed, and then Nate was drafted first overall to Colorado and Jo was drafted third over all to Tampa Bay and THEN Jo ended up having some kind of issue with Tampa Bay, like they weren’t playing him enough, and then he on purpose got his agent to leak that he wanted to be traded and it was like so much dramalama over the summer, and like couldn’t you get into that????? like Nate understands Jo so well but maybe no one else does and they played so well together and now they are TORN APART except that they also got to play together on Team North America this fall and I’m realizing that this might be too much information to really get my point across but like TRAGIC BUT TALENTED CHARACTER WHO IS FACING (AND MAYBE EVEN CAUSING FOR HIMSELF) ADVERSITY AND THE Good and Nobel and True Puppy BFF to supports him and yes?????

i’m sorry that this week, like last week, takes us on a tragic journey of separation but as far as i can tell that’s what hockey is all about. content warning for fish murder. 

*

part one: valentine's day

It was midnight in the hockey orphanage. Young Nate was asleep and dreaming of a beautiful new life where he had a friend. In the dream, he was driving a car down an open highway. He was free. In the seat next to him was a boy to whom he could tell all his secrets. Nate stretched out his hand across the gearshift to hold hands, but just before he made contact, he woke up. He was on his usual lumpy mattress in the boys' dormitory, and he was alone.

At that moment, he heard a choked-off sob in the bunk below him. The bunk had been empty when Nate went to bed. In fact, it’d been empty since its former occupant had been drafted last week. That was what they called it when people came to watch you skate, and then they talked to the orphanage director, and the next morning you weren't in your bunk, and no one ever saw you again. A couple weeks later, there'd be someone new, and everyone acted like nothing had changed at all.

Nate leaned over the side of his bunk to see the new guy, who rubbed his eyes hastily and glared back. "It's okay," said Nate. "I'm Nate, you can trust me."

"I don't trust anyone or anything," said the new guy.

Nate rolled his eyes. "Fine, dude, then I'm just saying hi. I guess they brought you in while I was sleeping."

The new guy seemed to relax a little. "Yeah. Sorry, I'm kinda stressed out right now."

"Of course you're stressed! You're new and you don't know me."

"I guess," said the new guy. He peered up at Nate. "You know what, though? You seem kinda familiar. Like maybe we met before. I'm Jonathan, by the way."

Nate looked at Jonathan carefully. He'd spent most of his life at the hockey orphanage trying to shoot small objects into a net and not getting out much, so a previous acquaintance seemed unlikely. Still, something nagged at the edge of his memory. He'd figure it out later. "Nice to meet you, Jonathan," he said. "Sorry you had to come in today of all days."

Jonathan looked puzzled. "What's special about today?"

"One of the wardens told me," Nate said proudly. "In the outside world it's Valentine's Day."

"Oh," said Jonathan. "So?"

"It's a day for love," said Nate, "but nobody loves us here."

"Wow," said Jonathan. "I heard there's something called the draft. Is that like a good thing or a bad thing?"

"No one knows," said Nate. "But anywhere's gotta be better than here." He dropped back into his own bunk. They both needed to get some rest. "Night, Jonathan."

There was a moment of silence, and then from the lower bunk: "You can call me Jo."

"Awesome, bro," said Nate. It seemed like Jo was starting to trust him, but he didn't want to make an issue of it or anything.

He closed his eyes and tried to remember his dream. The road stretching out before him. Foot on the gas pedal. An open window. The boy next to him, laughing. Nate was half-asleep again, falling into the dream. Where do you want to go? Nate asked. I'll take you anywhere. He took his eyes off the road and looked at the boy next to him. It was Jonathan.

part two: the draft

A year passed––the happiest year Nate had ever known. Off the ice, he and Jo were inseparable. On the ice, they were unstoppable. Periodically, other groups of overworked waifs would be pushed onto the ice with the children from Nate's orphanage and they'd all hit their sticks together and shout athletic-themed insults that the wardens had taught them in advance. There was a small disc that Nate and Jo knocked into the net over and over again because apparently no one was quick enough or smart enough or strong enough to hold them back.

Nate never told Jo about his dream, in case Jo thought it was creepy. He just tried to make Jo happy every chance he got.

That was why, one day after practice, Nate climbed a tree to get over the electrified fence and dove into a cold stream. He returned to the dormitory dripping wet. The smaller children, the ones still years away from the draft, gasped to see the fish clutched in his reddened hands.  With some difficulty, Nate climbed the rope ladder to the secret attic meeting place where he knew Jo would be waiting for him.  Proudly, he tossed the fish at Jo's feet.

"Oh my god," said Jo.

"You like them?" said Nate. "I wanted to get you a treat."

At the orphanage they served mostly stale bread and the occasional potato.

"I love them," said Jo. "But you're so wet, bro, aren't you cold?" He pulled off his dry shirt and gave it to Nate, which meant Nate had to pull off his wet shirt and put on Jo's shirt instead and it was soft and kind of smelled like Jo and also Jo was shirtless now.

Together they worked on preparing the raw fish. Nate glanced over at Jo, but totally not to check out his body. "So I heard something today."

"Yeah?"

"Might be a draft coming."

Jo made a hideous face at the fish he was gutting. "Good for you, I guess."

"What?" Nate put down his knife.

"You used to always talk about how you couldn't wait to be drafted. Who cares if not everyone survives? Anything to get out of this dump, right?" Whack, whack, whack went Jo's knife.

Nate was horrified. "Jo, come on. That was like…a year ago, sweetheart, I mean bro. I don't feel that way anymore."

"You don't?"

"No," said Nate. "Not since––not since you."

"Oh," said Jo, and used Nate's wet shirt to wipe fish off his hands.

"Cuz we might not, like, get drafted together," said Nate. "We could end up on different sides."

"Sides of what?"

"I think it might be some type of war or complicated battle system, I'm not––Ow!"

Jo had grabbed his hand hard. "Nate. If we're on different sides, what are we gonna do?"

Nate frowned. "What could we do?"

Jo loosened his grip on Nate's hand without letting go.  "Listen. I'd refuse. I'd tell them they have to set me free."

"We're not free now," Nate pointed out. "And I don’t see you rebelling."

Jo looked at Nate like Nate was the stupidest person whose hand he'd ever gently caressed. "Because you're here."

"Jo. Oh, Jo." Nate wanted to dive into freezing cold streams for Jo every day for the rest of his life.

"So right now we're together. But if we weren't––" Jo cleared his throat. "I'd escape. I'd skate my way right back to you."

"Babe," says Nate. "Bro. I don't want you to make trouble for yourself."

"I'll be very quiet and discreet," said Jo.

"Hmm," said Nate. "That could be pretty tough to pull off."

"What else can we do?"

"Run away," said Nate. "I know how to get over the fence. We sneak away tomorrow after practice. We make a new life together. I drive you around like constantly."

"What?"

"Doesn't matter. Point is, we get away before they can draft us apart."

Jo's normally moody face was beaming. "Nate, that's perfect. Let's do it. I can't wait!" He grabbed Nate into a fierce hug. He still didn't have a shirt on. Under Nate's hands, Jo's muscled back felt like freedom.

"Tomorrow," whispered Nate. "You and me."

*

That night, Nate had the dream again. This time he was driving through the ocean, and Jonathan was pointing at the fish, iridescent and beautiful. Ooh, I love this one, said Jo, but then there was a flash of underwater lightning and Nate couldn't see anything at all.  Where is it? said Nate, but Jo didn't answer, and Nate drifted deeper into a dreamless sleep.

When Nate woke at first light, Jo was already gone.

THE END

part one part two