Merry Christmas to a Lonely Woman
It is the persuasion that he does not exist. Whatever horror that this world lives in, it only looms and lingers with its own stubbornness. It preys upon his heart and shadow and his eyes say it all; he is eternally old and is the caretaker of an arena. The caretaker understands one thing: how to be a caretaker. That’s all he knows. He knows how to switch on the lights, drive the zamboni, and greet the teams. His life is built on the generosity of others for his pay is very low and not much to live on. When everything is done and all the teams are playing he goes out and has his smoke.
The cars stand out to him: BMW; Ferrari; Mercedes; everything you can imagine that wealth can provide. And yes, these executives love to give him tips. They call him the caretaker. His face says it all, hard-work but not much to show for it. His family exists somewhere and they know they value him. Hard work can never change a man’s spirit; it only changes his senses when he gets old. When one dies, who really cares? He has one universal idea and that is to prove his existence even with the absence of a title or rank.
They all come here to play the game. But these games are playoff games and therefore take a different meaning for these executives. He often laughs at the names that they give themselves. These are the titles that they live and play with, and there’s no doubt even the women can play with the men, some even better.
Many times after the game the caretaker is never invited for beer. Every time the caretaker talks about his life they seem to pat him on the back, as if he was a dog or something. The caretaker never has anything to say, he just listens and patiently waits for the time when someone asks him a question. A meaningful question has yet to come. He believes that it has to do with his personality, but then again he also believes that God has a personality. He knows about God’s personality because his father told him.
His father’s mantra rung into his ears, “Only fear death by virtue that one must live in the world of misery.” If his father was alive today he would tell him he could only fear death because it’s permanent. How can you recreate another individual like yourself? How can you create these teams that play amongst each other and yet hate each other’s guts for no other reason than to perpetuate that hate? That is why they’re called winners.
The two hockey teams arrived and made their way to the dressing room. They know why they’re there: to prove something for themselves. Both captains project a speech of similar nature. They mention that the game must end without animal instinct overpowering the game until the last period. However, the caretaker overheard one of the captains displaying weakness by telling his team that we all must go home today. This made the caretaker happy; perhaps today he will not be lonely, perhaps the two teams will come together and invite him for meal. The caretaker assured himself that things have changed. The caretaker’s isolation and despair vanished and all the vexations of the past were lifted. The caretaker’s silence was eerily deep, but it sure as hell knew its effort to morph itself and change with some configuration that sparkles the eyes and flesh.
He opened the door and let the two teams onto the ice. They warmed up for a few minutes and proceeded to start the game. The first period ended without a hitch. Then, the unthinkable happened. In frustration, one of the men grabbed the man that scored the goal and started to fight. The weakness of the individual who scored the goal was evident; he was ravaged heavily with blows to the face and knocked out. Amidst all the commotion, the stronger individual let his rage get to him and stepped on the neck of the knocked-out player, killing him instantly.
The two captains huddled together with both teams and told the caretaker to call someone. They came and took the body away. Both teams silently got dressed and left the arena, only the two captains remained. One of the captains took out an envelope filled with cash and handed it to the caretaker. As the caretaker escorted the captains out of the arena, the other captain told the caretaker, “Buon Natale.” The caretaker said nothing and began to lock the door. As he prepared to put on the lock, he overheard one of the captains whisper to the other captain, “I hate that man.”
For the first time in his life the caretaker needed something to cling on to. He cried as he made his way to the arena door. As he opened the door, she walked onto the ice. Today, she deserves to be frightened, no gentle hands or kind words. She became the victim and she can only hope that if he loves me for today, he will not hurt me. She knew what she had to do; it is no different than a tortured and abused animal that has to make love and curl up with someone that hates it. She waited patiently for him to arrive.
Last edited by Torontohockeyre; 12-01-2016 at 02:14 PM..
Reason: Can the moderator take one of the stories off. I only pressed the button once. Thanks Fio