Waiting for Go-Dot
#25 of Hockey Hunk Season 4
Time waits for no lion, and Rory finds this fact out...how could Victor help?
Hello, dearies, and welcome to the Hockey Hunk!
It's Friday again, and Fridays are always fun...because you get a Hockey Hunk chapter on Fridays! Yay! I had much fun today, as always, and I like where this story is going...it's been going on for a while now, but I am very glad to say that I see no end in sight yet...so hold on with me...this story's gonna be happening for quite some yet, I hope! So many stories to tell with these characters. *smiles*
The usual blabbering aside, I hope you'll enjoy the read, and that you'll comment, vote, fave and watch, so that I'll know whether I did a good job or not, and it'll also help others to find these stories to enjoy as well.
Have a fun read y'all!
Cheers!
*
HOWS U? ; )
_ _
My ears flicked softly as I read the quick text, winking smiley and all, and I was definitely smiling myself, too, as I quickly typed down my response.
FINE THANX GONE
TO THE HOSPITAL
MY REHAB TODAY
FROM 1 TO 2 THEN
BACK TO PETER'S
_ _
The phone beeped softly as my message flashed into cyberspace, and I folded the phone against my lap, still cradled in my paw. I rolled my shoulders a little and re-folded my tail between my legs and the couch so that it would not be getting onto anyone's way. The waiting area was just a small alcove along the long corridor of the "J. Stapleton Center of Excellence for Rehabilitation Medicine, packed with plastic couches, equally plastic plants, a small table with old magazines on it, and a TV on a wall holder, and no remote. That all said, it was quite standard as far as waiting rooms went. I had been into a few, most often with Peter, rarely ever as a patient myself. I shuddered a little, thinking about that, and was glad that my own circumstances weren't exactly dire.
I glanced at my lame leg, sitting there so innocently-looking, shoe, pants, the crutches propped against the couch to prevent anyone from tripping on them. The clientele here would've surely been especially opposed to tripping, considering the number of casts and mobility aids I had witnessed on my hobbled way here. From where I was sitting, you could see everyone coming in and out of the rehab, and it was a constant stream of furs with crutches, walkers, wheelchairs, and someone was even pushed in on a bed, I noticed, during my quiet vigil. I had messed up the bus schedules, of course, and gotten here half an hour early, which meant another fifteen minutes of waiting for me. Blah.
Well, at least it had just gotten a bit better with the phone announcing that YOU HAVE 1 NEW MESSAGE FROM VICTOR HOLDEN. The answer to my answer a moment ago beeped itself into my palm just then.
DO I HAVE TO BE
JEALOUS OF SOME
HUNKY MASSAGE
THERAPIST? ; )
_ _
My ears perked a little. It was obviously written in fun, what's with the smiley and all, but still, Victor talking about jealousy and me in the same sentence still managed to make my stomach churl a little, remembering the mess I had gotten into over my incident with that tiger. We sure had handled that one badly...all of us, in all the possible ways, too. But maybe this was a good sign, I though...that we could joke about it.
DOES A 50-YR-OLD
DOE CALLED DOROTHY
COUNT AS HUNKY?
_ _
I smirked at my own writing and sent the message, hoping that it would amuse Victor. I knew that he was still at home, with work starting on Wednesday, so I supposed he really needed some distraction from just sitting around...possibly with a harassing Cobb waltzing around with a duster and singing Adele's greatest hits and making intrusive questions in-between choruses. I was more than happy to provide, even in such an indirect manner.
"Will we go to McDonalds afterwards, mom?"
A little fox girl hobbled into view with curiously small crutches, trailed by the presumed mother who kept a careful eye on the little fox whose tail seemed to swiping with intensity that threatened her balance on those little pink crutches. I presumed that the reason for their use was the Winnie the Pooh cast that covered most of the girl's left leg.
"Well maybe we will, if the physiotherapist tells that you did well!"
"MOM I ALWAYS DO WELL!" the little girl belted out, causing a bear sitting on the opposite side of the waiting room to look up from a 2-year-old copy of General Interest.
"I know you do," the mother replied. "Come on, let's take your backpack and coat off and sit down to wait."
"I don't want to wait!" the girl chimed while the mother tried to remove her gear, so to speak, "I want to start doing that running thing again!"
"Well we'll have to wait until we're with Mister Sam until that!" the mother assured.
"Why is the teevee showing boring news, I wanna watch Sesame Street!!!"
"Well there are many grown-ups here, Nevaeh, they might want to watch it instead," the long-suffering vixen snuffled while she lifted the girl by the armpits and planted her to sit on the rubber couch.
"But nobody's watching it moooom!" the little girl pointed accusing paws on everyone in the room, that being me, the sitting bear, and even the mom, who had just about managed to collapse onto the couch next to her daughter.
"Sesame Street isn't even on at this hour," the mother reminded the girl, "remember what time it is?"
The little fox smiled and flicked her ears rapidly.
"Uhmmm....five o'clock?"
The mother snuffled.
"Well how many hours are there in a day? Did Mrs. Williams teach that to you at school?"
"Of course she did! One, two, three, four, five, six, seven..."
Well that seemed to going well! So did my texting, too, because Victor was back. Oooooh my!
IF SHES BUTCH THEN
MAYBE.
_ _
Ha ha, Dobie! I smiled, looking down at my little screen, and gave him back what he was giving me.
SHE LOOKS LIKE
SHE WEIGHTS
100 POUNDS
BUT SHES GOT
PRETTY STRONG
PAWS
_ _
Well that wasn't joking, not really...I always felt sore after she'd given me some of what she called "passive extension therapy" or whatever it was that she did when she told me to lie on my back on that examination table and breathe deeply. Guess my joints and tendons would thank me later on, once I'd be getting rid of these stupid crutches. At least she'd told me that I was doing fine progress. I smiled and clicked "SEND" and relaxed again. The clock on the wall told me that there were still ten more minutes to go...at best. Hopefully the appointments were running on the schedule again. Last week I'd had to wait for fifteen extra minutes, so I hoped that things were better this time.
Bah. Guess I wasn't good at this whole waiting business. I had usually done this with Peter, over all those years, and it usually involved me sitting paw in paw with a more or less sick cougar, trying to distract him with funny stories from work or something. I wasn't exactly in need of moral support myself, now, knowing that my problems were of transient nature, but still, boredom didn't suit me too well. My tail tended to start to fidget, bouncing up and down against the smooth, cold floor now, play-sweeping it, making a nest there, then going at it again, from another angle. At least I managed to keep my paws folded over my lap and not start to roll my thumbs or something. You'd think that this waiting business wasn't so difficult, but it was hard enough.
Beep-beep. At least there was Victor.
I COULD USE A
NICE MASSAGE
RIGHT NOW :P
_ _
Hmmm...seems that the Dobie was in a certain kind of a mood...just the kind that made me grin a bit as I read the little message again, and tried to compose a suitably cheeky response in my mind.
ME MASSAGING YOU
OR THE OTHER WAY
_ AROUND?_
_ _
Heheh...well...it could go either way, right? I certainly wouldn't mind either way...nice, strong, Dobie paws kneading on my buns...
Well ahem...maybe this wasn't the place to think about that, considering that I was in company, and in a hospital of all places, and that little girl was now complaining that she wanted a raspberry-flavored juice box and not a banana juice box like the one her mother was desperately trying to offer to her as a little snack before "that tiring therapy session, Nevaeh!"
"BUT I WANT RASPBERRY!"
The bear sitting on the nearby couch gave another exasperated look in the direction of the troublesome child and puffed out his cheeks in obvious annoyance. I couldn't find it in myself to really feel anything ill towards the girl. She was probably a bit scared about being in the hospital, having that cast, generally probably just feeling confused and tired and not enjoying herself. I'm sure she would rather be anywhere else except here, in this room that smelled like rubbing alcohol mixed with the scent of an abandoned gym bag.
I sure hoped, for the sake of the clients of McDonalds, that they stocked something that tasted like raspberry.
Oh, Victor...
IM VERSATILE
AS YOU WELL
KNOW : )
_ _
Hmmm...now if this wasn't trying to tease me and Rory Junior into a certain kind of a state of mind, then I probably would've counted as asexual or something, for I sure did grin like a fool when I read that, and imagined just how nice it'd be to have a proper roll in the old silk sheets, along with my silky-furred hockey-enjoying canine...friend...
YOU DO MINE,
I DO YOURS?
_ _
I certainly wouldn't mind some doings alright...maybe in a while, if we managed to sort out another little meeting...I wouldn't dare to just label it a tryst like that, because obviously it'd be nice to just chat, and talk about our everyday lives and our thoughts, and the stuff we saw on the news, and fondle each other with our paws...I could definitely work with that.
Beep-beep!
Well that was quick!
I DO YOU
YOU DO ME?
_ _
Now that was a bit more explicit...damn...I almost blushed right there! That tiny little message was almost enough to make me want to fold my legs...just in case. Just what to answer to that, though...
BEST OF BOTH
WORLDS?
_ _
Well maybe that was a bit lame...hmmm...
I guess I was thinking so hard that I didn't even notice that someone was standing in front of me, and maybe he stood there for a while, too, before I finally put my phone down and looked up. There was someone standing there alright, wearing blue cargo pants and an oversized black hoodie that covered him so much that I barely saw the glint of a pair of eyes and his nosepad peeking out. I could tell by the motion of the cloth that his ears flicked sharply when our eyes met. His paws were stuffed in his pockets.
"Is this seat free?" the hood nodded towards the ample space next to me on the plastic bench.
I looked at the expanse of grey, uninviting plastic, and then nodded, looking up to him again.
"Sure," I smiled.
The unidentified fur moved quickly over and sat down, and I noticed a bushy, grey tail between his legs, which made me suspect that I was dealing with a wolf, even if I hadn't really seen his face. He sat down stiffly, legs together, breathing a bit loudly. As I watched, he pulled out his right paw from his pocket, grabbed his left wrist, and then, for whatever reason, man-handled his own arm into position on his lap. Well, maybe it wasn't such a surprise. Everyone coming here had something wrong with some part of their bodies, guess this meant that he was here for his arm.
Guess I was right, too. I tried really hard not to look, but there was no mistaking the fact that the black paw now resting on his lap was not a paw at all. That blackness couldn't be attributed to a glove or anything, it was just there, shiny black plastic and awkwardly curled fingers that told me that he actually didn't have a paw.
The reflex in a situation like that is a to quickly look away, and I did, suddenly curious of the clock again, on the wall, which told me that there were still seven minutes until my appointment with Dot the physical therapist.
Beep-beep.
THAT'S THE WAY
AHA AHA
_ I LIKE IT_
AHA AHA
_ _
Hahah...well that calls for the heavy weaponry to be deployed....
YOU SOUND LIKE
UR BROTHER
_ _
Well was that a bit too nasty...hmmm...noooooooooo...
"SEND" I sent.
Ha!
We'll see what he says about THAT!
The wolf let out a weird grunting sound. My ears flicked, and I gave him a quick glance. I guess he was looking at me now, though it was a bit hard to tell, since his head was hung down and the best he could he do, I suppose, was one eye, under his brow or something. I could barely tell.
"Hello," I said gently.
It looked like as if the wolf guy shivered, being talked to, and my ears jumped with surprise at that reaction. I wondered whether I was expected to do small talk or not after all.
"Hi," he said, quietly, still not looking at me.
I smiled a little. The hunched guy stared at his knees. I squeezed my phone in my palm and wondered whether Victor would text back soon.
"It's...really sunny today," the wolf guy mumbled.
Guess he wanted to do some small talk after all. I smiled again, more broadly now, a bit more happyhappy.
"Yeah, it's been like that for weeks now," I said. "Really hot."
The hooded head moved in a slight up and down motion that was probably a nod, and I found myself nodding too. I couldn't help but wonder why he was so nervous...I mean...maybe he was feeling self-conscious about not having a paw...or an arm...it was difficult to tell anything, with that hoodie that made him definitely over-dressed for the weather. Even I had only put on some light pants and a shirt so as not to sweat my ass off. And still I wouldn't have minded one of those juice boxes the little fox was now happily suckling on, despite her earlier displeasure.
"I don't go out much," the wolf whispered.
My eyes jumped at the prosthetic paw again, briefly, I know, but I was pretty sure that he saw that I saw, and then I quickly looked at my phone-holding paw.
"Well neither do I," I said, deciding to keep things cool, and patted my thigh, "not since I banged this up."
The hood rustled a bit more.
"What happened?" he asked, polite enough.
"Car crash," I said quietly.
I almost continued with a "You?" , but caught myself at the last moment and almost had to bite my tongue so as to keep the sudden question from lashing out of my muzzle. Somehow I got the idea that it might've been a remarkable social blunder. The hoodie guy nodded again.
"So that's why I don't go out much," I said, hoping to distract myself from my earlier thoughts, "a bit difficult to get around."
He gave what must've been a glance at my crutches, and nodded again, though the only way I could tell was by the motion again...not seeing his face didn't really help much about keeping a polite conversation.
"Yeah."
I wondered whether I should tell that I was getting better every day, but considering that his own injury seemed to be of the sort from which you'd never get better, I wasn't so sure whether that'd boost the morale. I desperately tried to figure out what else to say.
" - hush..."
"...but ...mooooom..."
" - sit now quietly and just wait - "
"...but moom it's all funny - "
"- Nevaeh, it's not polite to point at someone, stop that."
My ears registered the conversation before I looked over at the direction of the mother and the little girl, where the...active...youngster was quite blatantly pointing her finger at the figure seated next to me, despite her mother's attempts to push her paw down. There was no mistaking what the girl was talking about, either, surely I wasn't the one who looked all funny.
" - moom - "
"No McDonalds after this if you don't behave!" the mother raised her voice.
The bear was staring now, too, but not at the girl and the vixen, but at the hoodie guy. Judging by the tense flick of his tail, he could see it too...or maybe he even felt it...that sensation when you knew that you suddenly became the center of the attention, even if you didn't want to. I was starting to feel a bit self-conscious myself...trying to figure out whether I should say something...or do something, or.
" ohhhh MOOOOOM..."
Then something happened. The wolf's right paw, the one close to me, flew up and grabbed the corner of his hood, which was then tugged down, and a voice spoke up, from his throat, deeper and louder than the meek mumble that'd been there before...
"You better listen to what your mom says, kid," the wolf rumbled, not really sounding unkind but...well, I bet the girl was terrified.
A great patch of fur was missing from his neck and his cheek, instead covered in a dark and reddish, partially glistening patch of bare skin, puckered and leathery-looking, and there was a small brown band-aid on his chin.
Now, I've seen a few horrible things in my life, but that still managed to give a stop, enough of a stop that I felt embarrassed right away, and flushed at my own feeling at the sight of the injury that had been hidden by the hood, now in plain sight, as the wolf looked at the girl.
"I'm so sorry," the vixen said, her voice oddly breathless now, an arm about the girl who was staring with even wider eyes than before.
"I'm sure she'll be listening to her mom from now on," the wolf muttered as the hood came back up, hiding his disfigurement, and his eyes, from us.
I'm not sure I'd been able to say anything else at that point. My rescue came in the form of that tiny goat in pink scrubs, appearing at the waiting room, busy and quick in her hooves.
"Mister Gliese!"
I had my own tormentors to face now.
*
Thank you for reading my story!
Hope you had a nice time with The Hockey Hunk, and that you'll bestow me with comments, votes and faves - only that way I'll know whether I did a good job or not.
See you guys on Monday with another exciting installment of The Hockey Hunk!
:P