Page 84 of Rebound
The thought startles me and my eyes fly open. Nobody at the table even noticed I checked out. Moreover, they still seem to be arguing and getting nowhere. The familiar tingles start in my fingers and I grind my teeth in hopes of holding it off. I lean over to let one of the other coaches know I’m heading to my room and to call if there’s anything urgent I need to be a part of. Quite honestly, they could do this with the managers instead of dragging everyone out of their lives into something so fucking ridiculous.
The solution is simple: cancel it and pick up next year once they have everything in place.
Who am I in this large room? I’m just one of the five people to have won a medal and my opinion doesn’t hold enough weight. So instead of contributing, I slip out while they’re gesturing wildly and speaking loudly at each other. The minute I’m outside, the prickle spreads up my arms and my head gets fuzzy. I blink through the haze and force air into my lungs as I step into the elevator.
When it reaches my floor, I speed walk to my room and once the door is closed, I strip out of my clothes. My knees buckle as I collapse onto the carpeted floor and curl up into myself. The noise, vibrates through every part of me. Every attempt to open my eyes is foiled since I left the bathroom light on and it’s directly in my face. When I stretch my hand out to find something to ground me, everything irritates my skin. So I tighten the ball I’m in and squeeze my eyes shut. It’s not music or static, it’s worse. It’s unidentifiable. It’s chaos, difficult and messy; it’s silence and darkness.
When it finally fades, I suck in a large gulp of air and flop onto my back. I stare at the ceiling, taking too long to figure out where I am. Too long to identify the view above me. The sound of my heartbeat comes into focus first and I blink slowly, letting the rest of the room become clear. I feel the carpet against my bare skin and drag my fingers over the coarse material as I breathe loudly. Once my heart feels like it’s not going to leap out of my chest, I sit up and lean against the foot of the bed.
This is exactly why I didn’t want to be in Chennai. Telling Tamara about it is one thing, but having her see what it feels like? Dominic reminds me I’m not broken. It’s easy for him to say since he’s not the one struggling. I want to get myself together before I put Tamara through it and given we’re seeing this through to the end, I don’t want to be at my worst for her.
The buzzing of my phone gets me to my feet and I see a bunch of texts from my fellow coaches letting me know they’re making a final decision tonight. I want nothing to do with this discussion. As long as they tell me what’s happening and what I need to do, everything else is unimportant. I reply with a thumbs up emoji, then text Dom to ask if he has some time for a quick session. I don’t wait for responses as I head into the bathroom.
I have a long shower that alternates between hot and cold. The only reason I end it is because I can hear my phone ringing continuously. It’s the tone I set for Dom, so I know if I don’t respond soon, he’ll probably send the cavalry to find me and none of us want that. Wrapped up in one of the hotel robes, I return the video call and dry my hair.
“Jesus, Pat. Don’t fucking do that, okay?”
I nod, contrite. “I’m sorry, man. Needed to wash off the day.”
He peers into the phone and I let him analyse me for a few minutes. I don’t let anyone see me like this, certainly not the people I love the most. My family knows I have episodes and depression is one of my biggest demons; I still refuse to let them see me in this state.
“You need water and coffee, get comfortable and call me back.”
I hang up and take my time drying my hair. I keep it down and tuck it behind my ears while I make myself a large mug of instant coffee. It would take room service too long to bring me a pot and I just need something to get the edge off. I take a large sip of water and put it beside my coffee as I call Dominic back.
“I’m sorry about earlier. Feeling a little unsettled and had to shower badly.”
“You’re good, kid. I worry about you is all. How’s Delhi?”
“Fucking ridiculous,” I grumble and he chuckles. “This is what they say ‘could have been an email’. They’ve been in the room all day and I got out while I could.”
“The news is reporting the kid in the coma might not make it.”
Fuck. “Seriously? I hope they cancel the whole thing.”
“So you don’t have to do this job or because it’s the right thing to do?”
Two months ago I would have said it was a combination of the two. Now that I’ve spent time with the team, built a really good rapport and know everyone well, it’s more of the latter. I understand the point of the LHT and the impact it will have on future hockey players. I also believe they should cancel it this year. If it’s all over the news, that means the rest of the players are also hearing about it. It’s quite scary to think the least aggressive sport could have so much violence. Since we don’t know what caused the fight, the right thing is to either cancel or postpone it. I know the organisers are going to stick to the start date and there’s nothing any of us can do about it.
“The right thing to do, man. I’m actually enjoying the coaching gig now,” I reply and Dom smiles.
“That’s an improvement from when you first got to Chennai.”
I shrug. “What can I say? They grew on me.”
He chuckles. “Okay, let’s talk about your future with hockey.”
“Wow, Dom, going straight into the hard stuff today.”
“Gotta find your safe topic, Pat. Is this it?”
I sigh dramatically, but settle in to talk about me and hockey. “I haven’t spoken to Parth in a few weeks, but nothing’s changed about my place on the Indian team. The bronze keeps me secure for at least another year.”
“How long do you wanna keep playing?”
“I haven’t thought about it seriously yet. I’d love to be in LA in 2028, but I might be too old.”
“Nihal will be forty too and he’s the captain.”
