Page 19 of Snowballed

“Breakfast tastes great.” I take another bite of my delicious toast.

Zoe beams. “That’s because it’s all from our farm. Fresh eggs from the chickens, bacon from our pig, and the strawberry rhubarb jam is made from our fruit.”

I wait in case the Little Red Hen is going to tell me how she grew the wheat and milled the flour for the bread, but she eats her toast instead.

Then her words all sink in, and I stop chewing. “Wait. The bacon came from Hammy?”

“Well, not her obviously, but last year’s pig, Link. Why do you think she’s called Hammy?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re all Hamilton fans.”

Awesome. Hammy and Katman are the only two animals on the farm who like me, and one of them is doomed.

“When do you…?” I make a cutting motion across my throat.

Zoe sighs. “In the fall, so soon. When my father was here, he used to do it himself—with some help. You need a guy who can lift 400 pounds.” She eyes my biceps.

“No way,” I say. “I don’t do well at the sight of blood.”

“It’s not for the squeamish,” she agrees. “My brother won’t do it either. We get a professional butcher.”

My appetite is now shot, but luckily, I’ve already eaten most of my breakfast. I start to scrape my dish into the garbage.

“Stop,” Zoe cries out. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, cleaning up,” I say.

“Food scraps go in here.” She pulls the lid off a green bucket. “Didn’t you notice that we were feeding this to Hammy and the chickens?”

“No. I was too busy with the million other things you’ve been teaching me.” Nobody likes to feel like an idiot, and that’s all I’ve felt since I got here. I’m really looking forward to getting back to a familiar hockey rink.

Zoe is apologetic as we leave for school, the way she acts any time she loses her temper. This time her apology is more concrete.

“I made your lunch.” She hands me an insulated bag which is pretty heavy. “It’s a good way to save money.”

“Oh, thanks.” What’s embarrassing is how little money I have. Denise helped me to do my budget, so both she and Zoe know how meager my finances are. But neither asked any awkward questions about my family. Thrift is a way of life for them.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Zoe says.

“It’s okay.”

We head off in her car.

“The first week of hockey is pretty easy. Mostly gym training. I can’t wait until we get real practices,” says Zoe.

“Yeah,” I agree. But the gym and dryland training show who’s in shape. Separates the men from the boys.

When we get to school, we arrange to meet at the end of the day. Zoe has practice in the morning, and I have it in the afternoon.

It’s an easy day for me. I pick up my schedule and orientation package, attend a grad school information session, and then head over to the arena. I like the rink here. It’s a bit old school, with a domed roof and steep stands. I look onto the ice as I walk towards the gym. Zoe is out there, and I’m surprised to see how tentative she looks. Definitely not Cracky when she’s on the ice.

When I enter the gym, the hum of chatter breaks as the half-dozen guys there check me out.

One guy stands and extends his hand. He’s tall with dark hair. “I’m Jonah Daniels. Call me J.D.,” he says.

“Noah Goodwin,” I say.

“Hey, we heard you were coming. That’s great,” he says. “These jokers are Lex Vonne, Seb Hunter, and Paul Wagner.”

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