Free Ice Time by David Skuy

down.
    Rocket felt a slash on his right leg at the top of the circle. The winger wasn’t able to keep up — they didn’t call him the Rocket for nothing!
    He took it on net. The goalie came out to challenge. The left defenceman broke away from Rory and came across to head off Rocket.
    Looking over his shoulder, Rocket saw Goldsy cruising into the zone, watched closely by the right winger. The centre had hustled back and had a stick on Rory.
    Rocket faked a backhander to Goldsy, then made an unexpected power move on goal. The defenceman was surprised by his explosiveness, and Rocket was able to gain the edge. The goalie dropped into a butterfly a half-metre in front of his crease. He wasn’t giving Rocket much to shoot at, but Rocket figured any shot was better than nothing. He lowered his left hand and let the backhander go. The puck was still flying when the defenceman launched himself into Rocket’s back.
    For a horrible second, Rocket thought he would crash into the post. His chest grazed the iron, and he tumbled to the ice behind the net, his momentum carrying him hard into the boards.
    He heard a siren, and the crowd begin cheering loudly. Rocket looked at the net. The puck was nestled in the corner. Rory was holding his stick over his head in victory. He skated over to Rocket.
    “Did you get a rebound?” Rocket asked, blinking a few times. He felt unsteady.
    “Nope. All you. It was off the goalie’s mask and in,” Rory said. “My honour to assist on your second AHL goal —
this shift
!”
    He helped Rocket up, then pounded him on the back of the helmet. Rocket wished he hadn’t. It made him even dizzier, and it hurt his neck. Goldsy and the defencemen joined in the celebration, and they all patted his helmet. Rocket almost fell. What was wrong with him?
    Beauclair’s line had come out. Rocket gladly went to the bench. He needed some water. The guys were nice enough to hold out their gloves as he side-stepped his way to the middle, next to Rogers and Downey.
    “Nice work,” Rogers said.
    Downey reached a glove out and Rocket punched it.
    When Rocket leaned forward to get some water, the spots came back. He waited for them to disappear. Weird. It was like he was fine one minute, and then he could barely stand up. He took a sip of water. It burned the back of his throat.
    Nadav tapped him on the shoulder. “Bryan, can I run a few tests on you?”
    “What for?” Rocket said.
    “Have you had any dizziness or pain in the head or neck since that cross-check?” Nadav said. He was testing Rocket for a concussion.
    The last thing Rocket needed was to start the third period alone in the dark room, especially after scoring two goals. He had to stay in the game. “Not really. It hurt, though,” he said.
    “Where are you?” Nadav said.
    “On the bench,” Rocket said.
    “No. I mean, name the building.”
    Rocket hesitated. The name had somehow slipped his mind. “It’s called … I just moved here so …” Then it came to him. “Pinewood Barns Arena,” he said with relief.
    “What day of the week is it?”
    “It’s … Sunday,” Rocket said. He had to dig deep for that one.
    “What city are you in?”
    “Pinewood.”
    “Repeat these five words: table, dog, green, boat, shoe.”
    Rocket repeated them.
    “Do you remember the hit?”
    “It was the last shift. Rory passed to me.”
    “What was the score before you got your first goal?”
    It was close. He knew that. Rocket looked up at the scoreboard: 2–0. He’d just gotten two goals so … he gave his head a shake. He was being stupid. “Zero, all.”
    “What were the five words I asked you to repeat?”
    Rocket was stumped. “Green … Um, I wasn’t really listening.”
    Barker came over. He didn’t look happy.
    “Goldsy needs a new stick,” he told Nadav. “Leave Rockwood alone. I told you he’s fine.”
    “He took a hit to the back of the head or possibly the neck,” Nadav said softly. “I’m worried about a