---

 

This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “Formative” Down in the Dirt, v170 (the Apr. 2020 Issue) Order the paperback book:

Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology Foundations the Down in the Dirt Feb.-April 2020 issues collection book		get the 322 page Feb.-April 2020 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Order this writing in the book 2020 in a Flash the 2020 flash fiction & art collection anthology		get the 296 page flash fiction & artwork & photography collection anthology as a 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Big Night Secret

Isabel Alzate

    The streetlights flickered in rhythm to the rain droplets that fell across the windshield of the 1950s Chevrolet. Ben was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he looked out the car window to see lightning flashing. He glanced at the clock and shook his head as the rain poured harder. A young man came running in his direction with a red hockey bag on his shoulders. Ben unlocked the door and the young man sat down trying to catch his breath.
    “Your late,” Ben said.
    “Have you ever tried running across two parking lots?”
    “Look, Lorenzo, I promised your parents I was going to pick you up from hockey practice on time today.”
    Shaking his head and taking off his wet letterman jacket, Lorenzo opened his black and red bag and pulled out a bottle of water and drank from it. The combination of sweat and raindrops fell down the side of his face.
    “Yes, I know that, Uncle Ben,” Lorenzo said.
    “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to show up?”
    “Sorry, Uncle Ben, but my coaches were talking about perspective teams that I could play with after I graduate.”
    Ben put the car on drive and went through the empty street seeing how the reflection of the street and traffic lights on the ground created a kaleidoscope of color. He eyed Lorenzo’s bag and it caused his stomach growl.
    “Do you have any apples in there.”
    “Here you go, Uncle Ben.”
    He passed Ben a big red juicy apple, who took a big bite of it.
    “Is pushing people against walls and skating on ice really what you want to do?”
    “Yes, of course,” Lorenzo said.
    The car came to a red traffic light and Ben gave Lorenzo an intense stare. He grabbed Lorenzo’s bag in one quick movement and pulled out a garment. The garment was not padded in typical hockey fashion but had rhinestones on it and was similar to a matador’s outfit. He proceeded to get the ice skates out of the bag and touched the shoes’ toe picks.
    “When are you going to tell your parents?”
    “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lorenzo said.
    “How can you say that? I literally have your figure skating clothes in my hands and yet you think you can play innocent?”
    “Okay, okay,” Lorenzo said. “I quit hockey two years ago, I’ve been figure skating ever since.”
    “Singles or pairs’ skating?”
    “Ice dancing.”
    Ben let out a chuckle as the light shifted to green. He stepped on the gas pedal and turned on the radio with the Heartbreaker song.
    “Why haven’t you told anyone?”
    “Because, my father wants me to be the next Wayne Gretzky.”
    Lorenzo stayed silent and grabbed a piece of apple cake from the bag and bit it. “Mom knows about it.”
    “And you don’t want to be a heartbreaker, huh?”
    Lorenzo shook his head at his uncle’s cheesy pun and continued eating his cake with crumbs falling everywhere. After he finished, he looked at Ben.
    “Haven’t you noticed that my dad has only been paying attention to me since I started this whole hockey charade.”
    “And what will you do when he actually wants to watch your game?”
    Lorenzo narrowed his eyes and lowered the volume of the music. He shook his head and let a shaky breath. Ben gave him an encouraging smile for him to speak.
    “Have you met my father,” Lorenzo said. “He never pays attention to me and forgets that I exist almost all the time.”
    “That’s not true.”
    “Yes, it is.”
    Ben pulled over to the side of the street and parked the car, he looked at his 16-year-old nephew.
    “Why would you say that?”
    “He never really talks to me about anything except hockey.”
    “He’s trying to bond.”
    “No, Uncle,” he said. “He specifically told me that unless I talked to him about hockey, we had nothing to talk about.”
    “What did your coaches tell you tonight?”
    “They told my partner and I have a real shot of going to sectionals later this month.”
    As they pulled up the gravel driveway, they saw a man in a khaki suit passing on the porch of the house. Lorenzo tensed and slid down his seat as he heard the shouts and screams of the man that was his father.
    “Well, my guess is that your dad found out the truth.”
    Lorenzo turned and glared at his uncle.
    “You think?” Lorenzo said. “Uncle Ben do you think I can stay at your house tonight while my dad calms down?”
    “Ah,” he said. “You’re taking the easy way out.”
    Ben chuckled until Lorenzo’s pleading eyes got to him. “Alright, you can stay at my place tonight.”
    “Thanks, Uncle Ben.”
    He hugged his uncle tight as Ben did a U-turn to go home, leaving behind the yells. Lorenzo took out his phone and texted his mother that he was going to stay at his Uncle’s until the next day the hurricane of emotions that his father had calmed down.

Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.

Problems with this page? Then deal with it...