Chapter 477: Joey XXX—Grumpy

Perhaps it had been nothing. In fact Joe knew that dwelling on it even for a moment longer, would be ridiculous. What could be gained from it? Just let it go. You’re paranoid; you’re just looking for a reason to be insecure. Almost out the door, he head Debbie sliding off the bed, to go to the bathroom but it stuck in his mind. Had she rolled her eyes after he’d kissed her?

They had just made love, it had seemed so sweet and honest, she’d sighed and smiled and then just when he’d thought everything was perfect, he saw out of the corner of his glance, Debbie roll her eyes. It didn’t happen, just let it go. “What was that, Debbie?” he asked, unable to contain himself anymore.

“What was what honey?” Debbie replied. She smiled innocently and he realized what an unconfident fool he was. How could he have thought anything like that of her?

“Nothing,” Joe mumbled, “Never mind.” He ran his hands through his hair and began to leave the room, hoping she would just forget it and let it go.

She didn’t.

“No wait, what?” Debbie said a note of uncertainty in her voice. “Joe?”

He closed his eyes and then looked at her. “Nothing, forget it, I’m being stupid.”

Debbie narrowed her eyes, smart as ever, “Which means you were going to accuse me of something stupid, aye? Well out with it Joe, what do you think I did?” She crossed her frail arms, a small woman; she could get smaller with just one bout of sickness and pain. It pained Joe through his entire body.

“I just thought,” Joe shook his head. “Debbie it’s nothing.”

Frown and annoyance left her face, her features softened and it even looked as if she paled somewhat. And that worried him even more. “Joe I’m sorry, honey.” Her cheeks turned pink, with embarrassment perhaps, and she looked away from him.

Now the insecurity fell away, and Joe became just completely perplexed. “Then I did see that?” She’d rolled her eyes; she’d looked away as if disappointed. “I didn’t imagine that?”

“Joe, I’m just a little tired hon, okay?” She scratched one of her elbows.

“What did I do something wrong?” Joe asked, and he thought back to it. What could he have done wrong? Everything had felt so right and smooth, and he’d even tried to be a little daring and spontaneous with her. It seemed to him that everything had gone perfectly. And in fact, Debbie had seemed to respond perfectly. Which means, she’d put on quite an act for his feelings, and she could do it well. “I never seem to get anything right do I? Now was I too rough or something? What did I do?”

“Nothing!” Debbie exclaimed.

“Debbie!”

Joe!”

They both sighed, and the feeling just grew inside Joe that he was suddenly in some weird dreamlike unstable world. “Debbie I don’t know what to do, I give up.”

Debbie grimaced, and she shook her head. “Joe you’re so sweet, I love you, hon, but…” She closed her eyes. “Oh this is stupid.”

Joe held up his finger. “No come on, but what?”

Debbie held out her arms. “But sometimes you try too hard, it’s so obvious you’re trying, hon, I feel sometimes like you’re putting on a show or something, or like I’m obligating you to something. It’s not you Joe, it’s me I think, I mean there must be something wrong. Maybe I’m just tired hon.”

And what was he supposed to take from that? Of course she wouldn’t be outwardly insulting him and he felt worse than she did perhaps. All this time perhaps, all these years he was doing something wrong, still doing something wrong. How could all of this be wrong? “Sure,” he said, “We all get tired, hon.”

She held out her delicate hand to him, he went to it and kissed it and hugged her, tiny bird boned little body, felt her delicate heartbeat. Why couldn’t he just make things so immediately right? God, he didn’t want to think about this either.

“I love you,” Debbie whispered and she squeezed him and he let her go, kissed her once and then she went into the bathroom.

“I’m going out,” Joe said, “I’ll probably head straight to practice afterwards so I’ll be seeing you later, honey. Okay?”

“Sure,” Debbie replied. “Take care.”

“I need a drink,” he muttered to himself in a low voice.

Just a couple drinks. Really Joe did not approve in the slightest of drinking before a game and not after, but by this time his nerves felt so frayed and hurt that he couldn’t think of any other remedy. No one at the bar bothered him, either they didn’t recognize him or more than likely he seemed just so unapproachable. It didn’t matter what they thought as long as they left him alone.

He drank slowly, watched a replay of the previous night’s basketball game on the five million television sets lining the wall and he thought about how Mitchell liked the mountain lion mascot of the city’s professional basketball team. He hadn’t taken the boy to a game in a couple of weeks; he’d need to do that soon. Well that was a boy not hard to please, Joe thought grimly, as long as it was Alex Tanguay giving him the gifts.

Downing to the last sips of his drink Joe then noticed the time. Team practice would be starting soon, if he left now he’d be late. If he wanted he knew he could get away with skipping today’s practice, but today’s game was too important, a four point divisional game against an increasingly heated rival. Even after two beers, his common sense took over. Joe sighed and paid for his drinks.

“So what if I’m late,” Joe said dryly entering the locker room he was appalled to receive nothing but perky and cheerful salutations from his teammates. Where was the game day seriousness, did no one take this game to heart? “I’m here aren’t I?”

And what was Peter Forsberg doing in here? He’d made it clear he wanted all attention focused only on healthy bodies ready to play, fine what did they want today complete anarchy?

Things didn’t seem better at first with Alex’s gift. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that the kid was trying to make him look bad in front of Mitchell, but then he remembered the fiasco with the first toy. And Keane sounded sensible about it, so he decided to just accept it at that point.

Peter, well since he was here, might as well let him stay. He’d asked Peter what he expected to do today and the Swede replied sensibly, strength and therapy, perhaps even a final test on that iffy groin and stomach muscle. “Well at least you’re working towards the comeback,” Joe replied patting him on the shoulder.

He could feel his brain, slow and fuzzy, not impaired but warm, sedated. A couple beers may have been just the thing to have for the day. Of course he wouldn’t tell the guys, and he didn’t know if they noticed any on his breath or anything but it didn’t matter. Thing were looking increasingly better by the moment watching some of the guys skating drills on the ice, other guys on the bikes, some doing agility exercises with the steps and balance ball. Well tuned, everyone dedicated, even Patty seemed serious pedaling away on his stationary bike.

Right in the middle of the floor, Joe noticed Mike Keane doing stomach crunches, he had such a grim expression on his face, so preoccupied that Joe was reminded of a pensive ginger haired leprechaun. Man he could do those fast! One thing that amazed Joe about Keaner, no matter how much the man debauched his body; he seemed to be consistent enough about fitness.

Feeling his grumpiness lift just a little, Joe went to Keane; the man noticed him but didn’t interrupt his regimen. Smiling now, Joe stepped over him, putting his hands on his hips and looking down. “How many does that make, Keaner?”

“Like seventy so far,” Keane replied without losing breath. “Now come on Joe, move it, you’re making me horny.”

Joe rolled his eyes, “Mike.”

“It’s true,” Keaner said solemnly.

Joe didn’t reply however because looking over his shoulder he noticed a decidedly smooth and fresh Peter Forsberg chatting quite amiably with Dan Hinote as he did his own fitness regime. He frowned. Had Peter been doing any conditioning exercises at all so far? “Peter!” He barked. “Come here!”

Joe backed out of Keaner’s way, until he stood behind Keaner’s head on the carpet and he made sure to keep a rather severe looking expression on his face as Peter approached them. The Swede raised his eyebrows, “Yeah, Joe?” He came to a stop, actually standing over Mike’s knees.

“Woah now, you’re gonna be turning me on Pete,” Mike replied.

Peter just ignored him.

“What are you doing?” Joe asked.

Peter grimaced almost like a small child would when caught dawdling. “I’m just, talking with Dan…”

“Eighty nine, Ninety, Ninety One…” Keaner counted his stomach crunches.

“Who is working out for a very important game tonight,” Joe said, “And shouldn’t you be in strength and conditioning?”

Peter’s eyes fluttered almost as if momentarily distracted and he shook his head, “Karns said the pool is being cleaned right now.” He widened his eyes. “Oh wow.”

Joe looked down and rolled his eyes. “Look Peter I don’t have time for you to be messing around like this.”

“Joe I…” Peter shook his head, “Joe sorry but I’m feeling kind of… wow… kind of …. Kind….” He blinked.

Joe rolled his eyes. “It’s because Keaner just started kissing your crotch Peter are you really that dense?”

Peter looked down and saw that Mike Keane indeed was kissing Peter’s crotch as he did a full sit up. “CHRIST KEANER!” Peter cried and he shoved Mike back and tottered away from him. “What the hell were you doing?”

Joe threw his hands in the air.

“Look I’m just trying to do my required exercises and I can’t with you pussies standing over me distracting me, if you put it there Pete, I’m gonna take it.”

“You’re a pig you really are!” Peter cried. “Gross! Joe!”

“Hey I’m just glad that he didn’t do that to me,” Joe replied and he turned away from them, looking for something to do. He didn’t want to be burned out for the game tonight but he did want a certain amount of conditioning.

“Look you’re the only one dumb enough not to notice pretty boy,” Keaner replied.

Just ignore them, Joe closed his eyes, just ignore the imbeciles, just ignore them…

“I don’t know I bet someone else wouldn’t notice straight off,” Forsberg shot back, “I bet you fifty.”

“Deal.”

I wash my hands of it, Joe thought and he went to an empty bicycle, “How ya doing Patty?” He said, pleased that the goalie seemed to be getting a good workout and not even breaking too much of a sweat. If Patty didn’t feel any lingering soreness or injury than their chances tonight were more than good. Finally something good to see, and he felt in a better mood as he swung his leg over the bicycle and began to fiddle with the buttons on the keypad.

“I’m doing a lot better than Alex right now!” Patty exclaimed with a suddenly alarmed expression on his face.

“EWWWWW!” Alex Tanguay howled. “Gross! Keaner why! Why did you do that why! EWWWWW!”

Oh shoot me! Joe thought. Just shoot me now!

Joe didn’t exactly rush off the bike to Alex’s aide either, because everyone else in the locker room was quick to the scene as it was. In fact, by the time Joe did get to Tanguay he had to push through the crowd that had collected. Peter stood like a dumb shit with wide eyes; Joe could imagine how Pete felt now for placing that bet. Mike Keane still sat on the carpet with his arms crossed, grinning like a Cheshire Cat, and little Alex Tanguay stood on the verge of tears, with his face covered.

“What did he do?” Bob Hartley asked sternly. “We don’t have time for this.”

“He kissed… he… Peter called me over to spot Keaner and then Keaner…”

“Don’t,” Joe said holding up his hand. “You don’t have to finish that Sport, listen I’ll punish Keane okay?”

Alex sniffled.

Christ the kid was crying! CRYING! Did no one tell him that crying was ridiculous outside of the junior leagues?

“Alright, Cap’n send me to clean up pucks,” Keane leered, “Punish me!”

How did someone punish Mike Keane? Joe thought suddenly perplexed. Quite simply he had to display some authority here, but he couldn’t take Mike out of the line up, he needed to do something meaningful but yet not detrimental to the game. What could he do? How did someone punish Mike Keane, and make him suffer?

A slow smile spread across Joe’s soul. “Keaner,” he said solemnly and he looked the grinning red-head in the eye, “You’re jinxed.”

“What?” Keane said with a frown and a murmur went through the group.

“You heard me,” Joe replied. “Jinxed.” Oh God it couldn’t be this infantile could it? The answer couldn’t lay here!

Slowly, Keane shook his head. “What does that mean?”

“Didn’t you ever have friends in school?” Chris Drury cut in. “It means that no matter what you say until Joe says the magic word, no one can answer back to you. It’s like your cut off from everyone else. None of us can pay any attention to you. Is that right, Captain?”

And funnily enough Drury said that without a touch of exasperation or irony, he spoke as if everything seemed as it should be. Joe gave him points for that, which meant the kid understood that a punishment was punishment and sometimes unorthodox things had to be done to get a point across. Maybe he’d give him an A for tonight; he’d have to see how things panned out. “Right, Chris,” he said. “You’re a smart kid. Now everyone you hear that? No matter what Keaner says or does no one pays attention to him until I say they can, understand? No one speaks to him or looks at him or does anything with him without my permission. It starts now! Everyone get back to your workouts.”

Everyone dispersed as told, with Mike Keane crossing his arms and standing up. “Aw come on that’s it? That’s all you got? That’s a punishment? Yeah right what a joke. That’s not a punishment. You guys don’t say anything worth listening to anyway, I don’t care if you don’t talk to me, see if I care, yeah yeah big deal you can’t talk to me. I don’t mind if people don’t pay attention to me. I don’t care. See if I care. Watch I’m gonna be glad that I won’t have to listen to any of you and you guys are gonna be the ones missing my company, you’ll be sorry, you hear me SORRY!”

“Well that’s a genius move, Joe,” Drury said in a low voice, “And I ain’t just kissing ass on that one.”

Joe grinned. “Let’s see how long he lasts without attention.”

Five minutes later to be generous and Joe saw a sight he’d never thought he’d see. It embarrassed, repulsed and amused him all at the same time, and the way the rest of the team again stopped their activities to watch, Joe assumed that they all felt the same way. How could one not watch with a sort of morbid fascination as Mike laid sprawled face first on the carpet sobbing his sad life story to the team? Sobbing!

“….and then that puppy that I wanted, it died because little Susie didn’t feed it right. It died. DIED! Oh GOD why won’t you listen to me. Why don’t any of you care!” He huffled and snuffled and wiped tears from his cheeks. “Why don’t you care? It’s a puppy for Crissakes a dead puppy can you imagine his suffering….” Hiccups and coughs, and more sobs. “And he’s dead! OH CHRIST!”

“He’s really… crying…” Chris Drury said slowly. “Joe it’s so…unnatural.”

Joe nodded, “Kinda scary.”

“Oh Joey please take the jinx off he’s crying!”

Joe looked in amazement at Patty, whose eyes glistened with unshed tears of his own, trembling with the need to go to his friend. “Patty are you nuts?”

Patty sniffled, “I just can’t see him like this. The man I love the most in this world and he’s crying.” And the goalie…. Burst into tears….

“For the love of!” Joe began in horror.

“Hey I thought you loved me!” Adam Foote exclaimed. “What do you care about that stupid red head for? I’m the one who defends you! That hurts.”

“And then I wanted a pony…….and then grandma had it cooked for supper!” Keaner wailed.

Patty continued crying.

Joe frowned. What next? And he saw it alright; Adam Foote put his arm over Patty’s shoulder. “Do I really suck that bad? Look I was injured buddy, I couldn’t be there for you but I’m gonna…” Foote sniffled. Oh God NO! He sniffled. “I’m gonna be there for you tonight, you won’t be alone I swear it….” And then came the waterworks.

“You’re the best D man I have!” Patty moaned and he and Foote grabbed each other in a monster bear hug.

“I LOVE you!” Foote wailed.
“I love you too, Footie!” Patty sobbed.

Joe looked at Drury and he imagined that his own expression of disbelief mirrored on the young man’s face. And the madness did not end. Rob Blake, who’d shuffled into the group, eyes glistening, a tear dripping off the tip of his silly nose, tapped Patty’s shoulder. “Are you saying I’m not a good D-man? I can be better for you! I can do more for you, do you want me to make bigger hits? I’ll do open ice hits, I’ll do em I promise. I know I suck lately it’s just that I’ve been eating too much pizza so I don’t have enough energy to OH GOD!!” And it became a crying trio of three.

Really, it was a disgusting sight.

Joe pinched the bridge of his nose and he only listened to the sickness spread. He learned something important that day, that if Mike Keane cried, than so would Patty, if Patty cried then so would Foote, then so would Blake. If those guys were crying, Alex Tanguay would, if Tangs did so did Danny, and if Danny did it triggered off all the Europeans, and the Europeans going rubbed off on the rest of the wingers and grinders and with them going so did the rest of the team. What kind of horror this was Joe did not know but what he did know was that this could never happen again, and this could never leave the confines of the locker room, ever!

Shaking his head, Joe looked to his left where a handful of non-cryers stood, Chris Drury, Peter Forsberg, Kirk Muller, and Mike Modano. “Well at least I know there’s men on this team.” Joe said drily. “So Mike, Chris, you’re unemotional want “A’s” for tonight?”

Drury smirked.

And then a cough, and then a sniffle, and then a sob, Joe looked incredulously at Peter Forsberg who’d suddenly commenced sobbing. “Peter what’s wrong!”

“I wanna be a father!” Pete moaned. “I want a widdle baby!” And he even made a cradling motion with his arms.

Joe’s eyes widened.

“Oh Christ!” Drury coughed and then he and Modano sprung leaks.

“What’s wrong with you two!” Joe exclaimed.

“I’m a dysfunctional piece of shit!” Drury sobbed, “I want a family too but I’ll never be a decent father. I’ll just knock up someone’s wife and get the shit beat outta me I know it! CHRIST I suck!”

Joe blinked and then turned to Modano. “And Mike?”

“I’ll never have a family,” Modano sobbed. “I’m never gonna have a family unit not the kind that I want. I’m cursed! You don’t understand Joe I can never have a family like you! It just won’t happen!”

“Mike…Chris for the love of…” Joe murmured. “Have all of you gone mad? What is with everyone?”

“I ain’t crying Captain,” Kirk Muller said, he had his chin in his fingers, pondering the situation perhaps? Either way, it did comfort Joe to see, that the veteran indeed, was not crying.

“You don’t even feel like it?” Joe asked. “Just a little bit?”

Kirk grimaced. “Nope. I’m annoyed to tell you the truth. I’ve never seen or heard of anything like this, ever. In any sport, even among women. Have you ever heard of this happening among women? Shit the women outdid this team didn’t they?”

Joe shook his head. “Coach!”

Hartley widened his eyes in reply; the entire coaching staff had a sort of shell shocked numb expression on their face. Joe couldn’t imagine the first thing they could do to calm the team down and he didn’t want the responsibility either. Stupid, Keane, somehow this was all his fault. “Yeah, Joe?”

Joe nodded. “Muller and I are going out for a drink. We need one.” He then looked at Kirk. “You do need a drink, don’t you?”

Muller shook his head. “Hell Captain, I need twelve.”

“Sounds great,” Joe muttered. “Come on.”