Jeff walked over from the shop to say goodbye to his wife, Elaine, as she was getting into her SUV on Sunday afternoon.
“Have a good meeting,” he said.
“I’ll be home late on Tuesday,” she reminded him. “The kids are skating on the dugout. I left stew in the crock pot for you and the kids to have for supper. Oscar’s parents will pick him up around 7.”
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“Too bad you can’t have these meetings in the southeast once in a while,” Jeff said. “Four hours each way to Saskatoon is a lot of wasted time.”
“It’s not the same on Zoom. And I miss all the conversations during lunch and in the evening.”
“I know,” Jeff said.
“But I hate leaving you to look after the kids when I know you have work to do,” Elaine said.
“Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.”
“I hope so,” Elaine said. “But I always worry anyway.”
“At least it’s a nice day for a drive.”
With no clouds in the sky and a temperature of only -10 C, it was a nice day for skating too. As Elaine drove away, Jeff went to the dugout to check on the kids. Jeff and his son Connor had cleared off the ice and painted in “nets” with homemade snow paint the day before. Now Jenny, Connor and Connor’s friend Oscar were out in their helmets and skates. The boys were passing a puck back and forth while Jenny skated on the edge.
“Dad!” she shouted as soon as she spotted Jeff. “Connor and Oscar won’t let me play hockey!”
“We don’t want to run her over!” Connor yelled.
Jeff checked the time. He had a couple of hours before the trucker came to load canola.
“How about if I get my skates and play for a while?” he called.
This made Jenny happy. “Dad’s on my team!”
Soon Jeff was sitting on the hay bale they’d set at the edge of the dugout, trying to stop Flora, the German shepherd, from licking his skate blades while he put them on.
“Okay, Jenny, let’s see what they’ve got,” Jeff said, grabbing his stick and rushing onto the ice. Flora followed him, then tried to chase the puck when Connor passed it to Oscar.
Ice scraped under Jeff’s blades. This was the smoothest surface he’d made in years.
“Don’t let Flora get it!” Connor yelled. They passed carefully around the dog until she got bored and wandered off. Then the game was on. Jeff soon realized that Connor could outskate him this year. And the kid was a better shot, too.
They were still playing when the semi pulled into the yard. Jeff checked the time. “Heck! It’s four o’clock! One more quick goal.”
Oscar, a polite kid for a 12-year-old boy, pretended to lose control of the puck, to give Jenny one last chance.
Jenny was triumphant. “Ha!” she yelled, passing the puck to Jeff. “Shoot it, Dad! Hard!”
So he did.
But Oscar had snuck around in front. The puck smashed right into his face.
Oscar yelped.
“No!” Jeff shouted.
Oscar went down.
Jeff skated over. Oscar’s hands were covering his face, and blood was dripping down his chin. Jeff knew people always said faces bleed a lot, but this seemed excessive. He moved Oscar’s hand and saw a gash in the skin under Oscar’s eye. It looked deep. Was that bone? Jeff tried to stay calm.
“Don’t worry, Oscar. Let’s get our skates off. We’ll take you to town.”
“Does he need a doctor?” Jenny asked.
“Does he need stitches?” Connor asked.
Jeff and Connor helped Oscar get over to the hay bale. Jeff sat down to take off his own skates. But where were all the boots? Oscar’s were still there, and one of Connor’s, but Jenny’s and Jeff’s were gone.
“Look!” Jenny said, pointing.
Jeff looked up in time to see Flora galloping around the corner of the shed, one of Connor’s boots dangling from her mouth.
“Connor! Go get the boots. Jenny, help Oscar. I’ll call the trucker and tell him how to start the auger.”
“Can you call my mom?” Oscar asked quietly.
“Right,” said Jeff. He should’ve thought of that.
“I’ve only got one boot!” Connor said.
“Go. We’ll get you dry socks.”
Connor chased Flora. Jeff called Oscar’s dad.
“This is all my fault,” Jeff said, after he’d described the damage.
“It’s probably not as bad as you think,” Mason said. “Faces bleed a lot.”
“I hope you’re right,” Jeff said. “We’ll meet you at the Weyburn hospital.”
Connor raced back carrying all five stolen boots.
“Why didn’t you put your own boot on?” Jenny asked, looking at Connor’s snow-covered sock.
“I was in a hurry!” Connor said.
They helped Oscar to the truck parked in front of the house. Jeff went inside to get an old towel for Oscar’s face. Connor had to change his socks. Jenny went in to go to the bathroom.
Finally, they were all in the truck to make the 30-mile trip to the emergency room.
“Should we call an ambulance?” Jenny said.
“Oscar’s fine,” Jeff said. Then he saw that Oscar already had half of the towel soaked in blood. Jeff sped up.
“Should we call Mom?” Jenny asked.
“We’ve got it under control,” Jeff said. No point worrying Elaine while she was trying to focus on meetings.
At the hospital, Jeff was relieved to see there were only a couple of cars in the parking lot. Maybe it would be a short wait.
“Is my mom here?” Oscar asked.
“Not yet,” Jeff said. “Soon.”
Jeff and Connor helped Oscar to the hospital door while Jenny ran ahead to pull it open. When the door wouldn’t budge, Jenny read the sign.
“It’s closed!” she shouted.
“It can’t be,” Jeff said. But then he read the sign himself. Emergency services were closed for the weekend due to lack of staff.
“Now what?” Connor asked.
“We’ll go to Regina,” Jeff said.
They helped Oscar back into the truck and were already out of Weyburn and well onto the highway when Jeff’s phone rang and he realized he should’ve called Oscar’s dad. Jeff took the call over the speaker.
“We’re at the hospital! Where are you?” Mason asked.
“It’s closed!” Jenny yelled.
“We’re on Highway 39, going to Regina,” Jeff said.
“We missed you — we came in on 35,” Mason said. “Meet you at the General Hospital.”
“Right,” Jeff said, glad Mason had been specific. Jeff had been heading for the Pasqua Hospital. They’d already had enough confusion.
An hour later Jeff and the kids were waiting in the emergency room. Oscar’s mom had taken control of the situation and a harried-looking nurse had come out to assess the wound. “You’ll need a few stitches, but you’ll survive. Faces bleed a lot.”
Jeff, Connor and Jenny left Oscar with his parents. It was past suppertime, so Jeff took the kids out to Five Guys. They were taking the first bites of their burgers when Elaine called from Saskatoon.
“How was the skating?” she asked. “Was the stew okay?”
Jeff winked at the kids. “Just fine,” Jeff said. “Great day for it.”
