Corey’s time on this earth had only just begun, but his body was aging rapidly. Perhaps that was because the artificial intelligence that created him was a relatively new technology, or perhaps it was because the biological intelligence that he existed solely within was deteriorating rapidly as well. But of course, he didn’t know any of that, in fact, he didn’t know much of anything. He was created and exists purely for one purpose. To be the exact middle player in an imaginary hockey league.
His lack of real purpose made him no less real, however. He was released into the collective reality of humanity without the courtesy of intelligence, and he had been leading a hard short life. Wandering around the streets of Castle Forks in his full gear Corey Waffles had nowhere to go, he simply received data about the best and worst performers in the KIJHL that week and split the difference. The rest of his time was his own to do with as he wished. Sometimes that involved walking, sometimes he hung out at 7/11, he would often look into the windows of pubs, but since he was created less than a year ago and had no valid government issued photo ID, he was never permitted to enter. He could only stare as the real people inside enjoyed their real lives. If he was capable of it, he may have felt longing, loneliness, existential dread, or even sorrow. But he didn’t, and couldn’t, feel any of that. He just felt the need to score half a goal and take 1.2 minor penalties tonight, so he made his way to the rink and did just that. Maybe tonight he will get a taquito. But first, he has a job to do.
-
“Jackie! Time for dinner!” echoed up the stairs. The smell of fresh caught salmon and dill hung in the air of the sensible 7 bedroom house. Jackyln Robertson was just finishing up her math 30-7 assignment.
“Just a minute!” Jackyln hollered back. “30+3=......” she thought, then jotted down a heart in place of any real number. She had never found herself among the gifted students at high school, but that didn’t matter. She was blonde, 5’4”, and attractive in the most boring way you could imagine. Yes Jackyln had 1 path, and her parents fully supported it, she was going to be a hockey wife.
As she made her way down for dinner the rest of her family was already in the kitchen. Her younger twin brothers, Jaxon and Dayton, each one dimmer than the other, were wrestling over a boiled potato on the ground. Her parents looked at her with pride as she walked into the room. Her mom, Terri, had always dreamed of having her looks, while her dad, Terry, always dreamed of getting free hockey tickets. “Are you going to the game tonight?” asked Terri as Jackyln sat down and grabbed a fillet of the freshest salmon the Castle Forks quarry had to offer.
“I don’t know,” replied Jacklyn, slicing into her fish, the smell of sulfur filling the air, like only quarry salmon can. “I still have a little bit of homework to do.”
“Now young lady, you know you’re never going to meet a nice boy if you’re always worrying about your grades. I’ll drive you to the rink right after supper on my way to the legion.” insisted Terry. There was no use arguing when it came to this sort of thing, Jackyln had been to every hockey game in town since puberty. She thought briefly of protesting, she had a big exam coming up and if she could only get 185% she could raise her grade to nearly 20% and be within 10% of the much needed 50% she needed to graduate. But she quickly realized that math wasn’t her strong suit and needing to get nearly every question right to get to 185% would have been impossible. So she resigned herself to the hockey game, who knows, maybe tonight was the night she would finally meet her prince charming, or at the very least, an exact middle of what an average of that Prince Charming might be like. A girl can dream.
-
Corey sat silently in the dressing room. He didn’t have much to do, as he was already dressed and it was 3 hours before game time so his team hadn’t begun to arrive yet. He just starred into the darkness since the equipment manager turned the lights off after laying out the rest of his peers' equipment and Corey couldn’t figure out how to get them back on. He had a brief recollection of somebody touching a square on the wall and being able to see better, so he went around touching wall squares for a minute. One looked promising with a few holes in it, but his fingers were too big to get in so he tried with his tongue.
.....................
Corey regained consciousness to his teammates beginning to file in. His mouth tasted like the pennies he ate last weekend and he liked that. As the dressing room filled and the chatter rose Corey heard, but couldn’t quite comprehend, what his teammates were talking about. He had no emotional response to the things they were saying but since he was created from an amalgamation of all of them he did start to perceive some physical changes. He felt his chest swell when Jonesy talked about how his dad would lock him outside until he shot 200 pucks, what must it be like to have a loving father. He felt his loins tingle as Tilly talked about his billet sister. He felt his ears get hot when Janzy talked about his difficulty ordering his triple triple at Tim Hortons. But none of this detracted from his goal, nay, destiny, nay, inevitable contribution to tonight's game. .5 goals, 1.2 penalties.
“WAFFLES!!” yelled Coach. Corey liked Coach, he was direct. “They want you for an interview in the lobby. Fix your hair first, you look like you were struck by lightning.” Corey licked his hands and tried to flatten his mop of dirty brown hair. “Ehh good enough.” Coach gruffed, “They’re waiting for you.”
-
After dinner Jackie ran upstairs to get ready. Her brothers nipped at her heels as she ran up to her bedroom. They were growing boys, perhaps they were still hungry after Dayton only got ⅔ of a boiled potato and Jaxon only got ⅔ of a boiled potato and a good part of Dayton’s leg. It really didn’t seem like enough food for 12 year old boys, but that wasn’t her place.
She rifled through her closet to find her lowest cut top, her puffiest (and shortest) jacket, and of course her best pair of lulu’s and uggs. Tonight was the night, she felt something magical in the air, and not just the sulfur from the quarries. Kelsi Ballerini blasted from the worn speaker of her iPhone 14 as she slapped on half a tube of mascara. “Let’s go!” shouted Terry, he hated being late for drinking practice, he had regionals coming up and the Legion from the next town over has put together quite the roster. Jackie ran down the stairs and kissed Terri goodbye on the way out the door while Terry fought off the twins to keep them from getting outside, it’s impossible to get them back in once they’re out, and they were off towards their destinies.
As Jackie entered the arena the smell of sweat and stale popcorn washed over her. It brought back memories of her dad holding her up against the glass to show off to all the Atom AA players when she was 12. Memories of her mom showing her how to look like she dressed warm, but actually be cold, but not let anyone know you’re cold. Memories of her little brothers attacking the referee because her parents forgot to feed them before timbits. Yes, the rink was like home to her. She felt so comfortable knowing that staying for the 3 20 minute periods meant she would be out of the house for almost 40 whole minutes.
Jackie was walking up to the ticket counter when a young man in full gear and the wildest hair she had ever seen caught her eye. He was standing, stiff as a board, looking intently into the motorola krazor the Border Rebels used to film all their social media hits.
“What are you looking to do tonight Corey?” asked the over eager part time barista/part time social media manager.
“I will score half of one goal, I will sit in penalty box for 2 minutes and 24 seconds.” Replied the boy who she now knew as Corey, the letters, W A F F L E S across his back. It must be Swedish because it didn’t look like any words she knew.
“Do you think your boys will pull off the win tonight?” the media manager followed up with.
““I will score half of one goal, I will sit in penalty box for 2 minutes and 24 seconds.” repeated Corey. Jackie liked that, it was so confident. It reminded her of when her father insisted he would drink a 6 pack every night this week and the last 78 consecutive weeks.
“Uhhh ok thanks Corey, we look forward to seeing you out there.” before the media manager could finish Corey was walking towards the dressing room. “Jesus Christ his breath smelled like a roll of old dimes. What's wrong with him?” But Jackie didn’t see anything wrong with him. He was far from the ugliest player on the bench, granted, far from the most handsome too, he was somewhere in the middle.
Jackie made note of the numbers on his back as he walked away, it was a 2 and a 1. “What does that mean?” She wondered to herself. Her last birthday cake had a 1 and a 7 on it, so that's close to a 2 and a 1, maybe it was a sign. “What a mysterious man.”
“Who is?” Jackie jumped, she had not heard her friend, Cassidy, approach.
“Oh no one,” Jackie replied, “Just some boy.”
“Let's get to our seats, these kokanee gold battered skunk nuggets arent going to eat themselves.” Cassidy remarked, gesturing to her box of the regional delicacy falling out of her pockets. She was so thoughtful, Jackie was lucky to have a friend like her.
As the game got underway Jackie remembered what the boy had said. I will score half of one goal, I will sit in penalty box for 2 minutes and 24 seconds. Every time she saw the number 2 and 1 jump over the boards she watched him closely.
-
“WAFFLES! Get out there!” Coach barked. Corey jumped over the boards and started gliding around. He never really had a plan, he just followed the pull inside him and hoped it would get him to where he needed to be. Sure enough, he floated down towards the goalie and just as he got there the puck landed on Tilly’s stick beside the open net. Without missing a beat Corey slammed his stick into the back of Tilly’s and the puck went in the open cage and a horn went off and everyone started yelling. Corey hated this part, it was very scary and he didn’t know why the people were yelling at him, but his teammates embraced him and that made his chest feel warm. Corey knew he had accomplished part of his mission for the night, the men in stripes talked to each other for a minute, they were the bosses, and told the man with the loud voice what to say.
“Goal by number 18 Gustav Tillman AND number 21 Corey Waffles at 19:05 of the second period.” the man’s voice boomed. That’s half of one goal down, one penalty and 24 seconds to go.
As time was winding down in the 3rd period Corey knew his chances were going to dwindle, but that didn’t shake his resolve, it never did. He hopped over the boards just as someone in a different jersey was skating by. Corey brought his stick down hard on the man’s ankles, as he did that the man’s stick flew up and hit 4 of his teammates on the bench in the face, the angry 4 boys were irate at this and wound up to slash this incapacitated lad in retaliation. Sensing this as his opportunity Corey wound up as well and brought his stick down at the exact same instant as the other 4 boys. The stripey men raised their arms in aggression and assessed the situation as they saw it. Clearly 1 slash to Corey and 1 to the kid with the broken ankle, but it wouldn't be fair to punish all 5 boys for 1 slash, so after consulting the rules official, 14 year old Brennan McAllister, and ruling out a quickscore minor, they decided to assess each boy simultaneous 24 second penalties. Corey skated to the little room on the ice and felt like a weight had been removed from his body. He knew it was almost taquito time, his job was done.
-
The final buzzer sounded “Final Score, Revelstoke Grizzlies 18, Castle Forks Border Rebels 4” the announcement boomed. Jackie was pretty sure her team had won because their number sounded bigger, but was nevertheless disappointed. Cassidy noticed her shoulder slump and went to comfort her.
“Don’t be sad, Jack” said Cassidy in a soothing voice, “They didn’t lose that bad, only by 3 goals.” Cassidy was always the smart one, and Jackie was happy she now could tell her dad who lost, but was still blue.
“It’s not that Cass. I really wanted that boy from before to do what he said he would do.” whispered Jackie in a somber tone.
“But he did!” remarked the old man that had been trying to give her back rubs all night. “Number 21 got credited with half a goal and 1.2 minor penalties.” Jackie smiled and was happy for the boy, and for learning a new number.
“Twenty one,” she repeated, “ I’ll have to remember that.”
-
Corey left the locker room immediately after Coach had finished yelling. He couldn’t remember what Coach was yelling about but it must have been good because Corey had done exactly what he needed to do. As Corey made his way out of the players entrance and into the brisk night air he lifted his head, scanning the air for the smell of the only place he could get food after a game. He caught a whiff of cheese and spice and knew where he needed to go, that way. Corey took off at a leisurely pace into the night, skates cutting into the sidewalk as he made his way towards the smell. As he drew closer he could see the bright green light spilling into the street. Realizing now they often ask for metal coins in exchange for the delicious, rotating logs of exotic flavour, Corey began scanning the ground beneath him for loose change. He found a handful of quarters and dimes, those he would give to the man with the taquitos, any penny or nickel Corey saved to eat later. The man didn’t like those ones as much and Corey had to trade many for fewer taquitos, so he was better off eating them. The pennies had the best flavour anyway.
As Corey drew near the 7/11 the doors magically parted for him, he loved that part. “Hi Corey, tough loss tonight I hear.” said the man behind the wall. Corey was confused, he had done exactly what he needed to do, but Corey learned the easiest thing to do is to nod his head and agree. “Looking for the usual?” the man asked, Corey nodded again and held out his hand full of big and small coins, not the medium ones. The man rummaged a little bit, picking out his favourite ones and saying the numbers of Corey’s teammates as he did for some reason. “25 (Jonesy), 50 (Stewey), 75 (Cash), 1 (the goalie), 2 (Burno), 4,5 (Hartski), and 6 (that's Rod). That’s enough Corey, here you go, two jalapeno cream cheese taquitos.” The man handed him the two golden logs and let him keep some of the coins, Corey put them in his cup for safe keeping. “See you next time, good luck on Saturday!” Corey nodded and walked outside.
Finding a nice quiet place to squat Corey hunched down beside the ice cooler, the hum made him think of the rink and he liked that. As Corey pulled the taquitos out of their wrapper he studied them closely. It’s so hard to get the inside out sometimes. He placed his thumb over one end and began to suck with all his might. The hard shell hurt the spaces in his mouth where the little bones used to be so extraction was the best option, however difficult. Slowly but surely the delicious filling worked its way out of the taquito and into Corey’s mouth. As he started to make progress he heard an angelic sound, “Need some help with that?” Corey looked up and saw the most beautifully average person he had ever seen. Yellow-blonde hair, about a skate shorter than Corey was on skates, and a symmetrical and inoffensive face only a mother could recognize. Corey started to feel his loins tingle like when the boys talked about their billet sisters and his chest warm like when a loving father is mentioned. What is this? Who is this? Corey couldn’t look away.
-
Jackie had started walking and was nearly half way home by the time Terry finally called and realized he had forgotten to pick her up again. She could practically smell the Coors Banquet through the phone, but this was nothing new. Truthfully Jackie didn’t mind. She enjoyed the crisp air of the town after dark, and every time Terry got pulled over he would make Jackie switch seats with him because, as he put it, the BAC limit has been too low since the 80s and he should have been grandfathered in. As Jackie crossed the street to avoid the famous Castle Forks Rabid Racoon Free Range Rehabilitation Centre and to cut across the 7/11 parking lot she noticed something out of the corner of her eye.
At first she thought it was one of her Dad’s friends smoking crack to help with his drinking for the big event, it was technically a performance enhancing drug, but the drinkopympics stopped testing since everyone always tested positive. But what she saw wasn’t a 45 year old crackhead, it was a much younger, slightly more handsome boy in full hockey equipment. Jackie could see him hunched over, the number 21 protruding from his back. As she circled around to his front to avoid startling the boy, something she learned from the CFRRFRRC Racoon defense training videos she saw in school, and saw it wasn’t a crack pipe he had, but a jalapeno cream cheese taquito, the finest food the town had to offer, this boy had class. Jackie noticed quickly that he was struggling to suck the cheese out and blushed, this boy was healthy too, really the full package. Jackie was familiar with this diet and often would peel the skin off of the taquitos to get to the centre, a trick she learned from her mother. Before she realized what she was doing the words came out of her mouth as natural and instinctive as 2+2=3. “Need some help with that?”