Chapter 75: Joey II

The Land of Nuts and Fruits--Her Sweet Skin

A/N: Disclaimer: What the hell do I know of Joe Sakic’s life? Nada!!

Chapter 75: Joey II—The Land of Nuts and Fruits—Her Sweet Skin

There are times in life when one seems to walk, and one knows clearly everything they are doing and seeing and feeling, and what they’re about to do, and yet the emotion is peeled away leaving one feeling lost and unanimated. There had been so many times in Joe’s life that that was true, and this one of them. He had been feeling like that less and less these days, and in truth he had quite forgotten what the feeling was like outside of a dream or nightmare. But he was feeling it acutely now, and he didn’t know if he wanted it to stop.

Her smile, that brief smile coupled with her bright eyes and soft brown hair had flickered within him instantly, erasing his sense of time and place.

"Oooh, she’s pretty," he had murmured to himself.

It was like the first day he had seen her at school, clutching her books to her chest as she had hopped over a mud hole and laughing as she dropped them on the soft grass. The sun had been on her face, shining through her hair, making it seem like a golden sort of brown. As if she were shining like a jar of sunlit honey. He had grabbed the arm of a teammate and classmate of his, squeezing it and asking in awe, who she was, and how pretty she was.

"That’s just Debbie," his friend had said. "She’s outta our league, she’s a nice girl."

"I gotta have her," Joe had said. "I gotta have her forever."

"You’re dreaming Sack-itch," his friend said. "If you really like her, you’ll never speak or look at her again. Just imagine how much you like her right now and trying to introduce her to anyone else on the team."

Joe had blinked and slowly looked at his friend. Was he making a threat? No. He hadn’t been because his eyes were soft and sorrowful and sincere.

"Think of "the basement"," his friend added. "And now look at her."

Joe did. He had looked at her, he had been filled with anger, and dread at the thought of a million possibilities he knew she should never know. But he also knew that he didn’t just want her, he never wanted to lose her and he didn’t even know the sound of her voice. Friendship didn’t even approach the boundaries of what he was feeling for her. Team unity didn’t either... or the Code. Nothing mattered at that moment.

Joe had looked back at his friend and he breathed slowly. "No one will ever hurt her. Got that? She’s better than all of you!"

His friend had nodded and patted him on the arm, but otherwise he didn’t speak.

Joe didn’t speak to this woman as she led him down the hallway, away from whatever he had been trying to do. She didn’t speak either and he didn’t even know exactly where he was going as he followed her or what he was expecting to do. He felt that dreamlike emptiness all of a sudden. He felt like he could do anything.

He had felt that way a lot as a youth and Debbie had never even known how deeply he was involved in things. She had never known the full scope of everything and everyone he was involved in, whereas he, well he knew what was wrong and right. It’s just that they also trained him real well.

"Rationalize it this way Joey," Sheldon had told him with his brown, constantly spooked eyes, "They’re only puckbunnies."

Joe had not accepted that, and he would never accept that, he knew what was wrong but sometimes one couldn’t control the surroundings and one was forced to close one’s eyes and know that there are better places than a basement.

Her sweet skin. That was a better place. Debbie had been a good girl, all he could get of her was how sweet her skin smelled, and sometimes, she let him taste it, just a bit.

This woman was definitely not sweet, Joe concluded as she pulled him into a room, whispering things that made no sense between two people who had just met. She smelled too strongly of cigarettes and ugly perfume, her mouth tasted like smoke. And when he ran his fingers through her hair, it wasn’t soft at all, it was dry and flimsy. He placed his hands on her cheeks so caked in makeup that the powder almost crumbled onto his fingers, and he gently pulled her face back, away from him to stop the kiss.

Her eyes were alive, but the personality was hidden. These women were paid to have no personality. They were paid not to love. They were paid to deny the natural inclinations of a woman’s heart once she has given her body to a man. They were paid to provide all the things an overgiving, clingy, eager to please groupie can. The difference was, these girls didn’t delude themselves and would not be pestering anyone anytime soon. So many coaches he had known had approved of these sorts of girls to their players, "Less pregnancies and morning after cries of rape to worry about," a lot of them would almost snicker.

Joe closed his eyes briefly. He suddenly remembered what he had been telling the team outside of the elevators. This was not the message he had wanted to deliver to them, their captain walking away with a prostitute. And why? Because for a flicker of a moment he had thought of his wife, and for an instant, this woman had looked like her.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"What?" the woman answered almost airily as she pulled his shirt out from his pants and ran her hands up the skin of his chest.

Joe reacted immediately and pushed her hands away, gently holding her wrists together. "Why are you doing this?" he asked. "I’ve always wanted to know. Is anyone forcing you?"

The woman’s dark eyebrows straightened in confusion, he could see her expression in the blue haze of the room. "No," she said. "I’m just earning a living."

"No," Joe said. "You couldn’t have just... just woke up one morning and say, ‘I just want to earn a living’ it can’t be."

The woman took a step back and crossed her arms. "No of course not." she said frankly. "That’s not true of any woman I suppose. I’m gonna be an actress, I’m just getting by until then."

"Oh," Joe said softly watching her as she cleared her throat and looked away, rubbing a little the skin of her wrists.

There was a long silence between them, and finally she sighed. "I see," she said. "You’re a gentleman, is that it? I can play that too, I can act like I’m an innocent date or a true love or a wife or something. If that’s what you want."

"No," Joe said. "I don’t want you to be my wife."

"Your friends wife then? I can be her."

Joe looked at her in shock until he saw the smirk on her face and then he laughed.

"No, you don’t have to be my friend’s wife either."

She laughed quietly and then sighed again.

"I don’t even know why I’m here," Joe said. "I..."

"Don’t usually do this," the woman finished for him. "Believe me, I’m not judging you. I get lots of guys like you. It’s OK, I know what to do."

Her hand was soft and damp as she gripped his and pulled him towards the bed. She smiled softly and sat down pulling him down as well. Joe looked at her again, she really didn’t look like Debbie at all. How could he have thought so?

She leaned forward to kiss him and as he lips touched his Joe said, "My wife almost died a few years ago, I thought she was going to die."

The woman sat back. "Really?" she said.

Joe nodded. "I had no faith or hope that she was going to live. She lay on the couch day after day closing her eyes in such pain and do you know what I did?"

The woman shook her head.

"I went to work," Joe said. "That’s what I did. I went every morning to practice. It was the playoffs and I practiced and skated and went on roadtrips and I rarely saw her. And every day I thought to myself, ‘When I come home, she will be dead. And I will not have seen any of her suffering.’ And I almost hated her for that."

"Oh," the woman said softly. "I’m sorry."

"I only scored two goals that entire playoffs, two! And I failed her, and Ifailed the team. I had made a choice between the two," he said. "I chose the team and I showed up but I didn’t really. You know? I didn’t show up for either of them...."

Debbie’s pained, begging eyes burned into his brain and Joe tried to brush it away but he couldn’t. "Christ!" Joe exclaimed and he began sobbing into his hands, absolutely horrified that he was.

"Oh," the woman said. But she didn’t run she smoothed her hand over his back. "But she’s not dead is she?"

"No," Joe muttered. "We have twins now."

His sobs turned into silent crying and the woman continued to rub his back, the way only a woman can as she comforts another. And that made him feel worse. She was a woman just like any other, with all the same instincts.

"We’re so horrible to you," Joe said, looking back up at her. "Why do you women tolerate us at all? Why?"

The woman smiled. "Because, that’s how it is."

Joe sighed. "I’m sorry," he said. "It’s been stressful, I’ve had a concussion and..."

Both of them jumped as his cellphone squealed loudly. At this hour?

Joe frowned as he answered the phone.

"Honey!" Debbie cried into the phone.

Joe’s heart nearly stopped and he stood up, looking around as if she were there in the room with him. "Debbie?" he said. "What’s wrong?"

"It’s Mitchell," Debbie said. "I’m taking him to the hospital I don’t know what’s wrong with him but I knew you had to know!"

"I’m coming!" Joe cried. "Honey, I’ll be home in a few hours!"

When he hung up the phone, his heart throbbing to a near fever point, Joe looked down at the woman. "Please," he said. "Become something else. Don’t let us use you like this. Men aren’t worth it."

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