Order (Jon)

Sountrack

Organization; there is nothing better in this world than planning out a day, and having it follow suit perfectly - I literally get tingles every time I check a line off of my to-do list. If there was one thing that I couldn’t stand… it was mess and disorder.
It would be hard to believe that though, if you ever saw the company I kept. No where else on earth could you find such immature, chaotic, irresponsible people than the NHL; I thought, almost sadly, as I looked around the table I was sitting at.
They just didn’t understand it. Burish liked to tell me that I was just ‘being anal’, or suggest that someone had ’pooped in my cornflakes’. But why loosen up when you can stay wonderfully wound up; put-together, prepared and structured? Ahh… sweet structure…

I was pulled out of my thoughts as food started to fly across the booth. “Come on guys… grow up.” I sighed as Sharpie flung a spoonful of ketchup at Kaner; hitting him directly in the face. I looked over at the approaching waitress; she looked a bit put-off, but I knew she wouldn’t say anything about it.
No one ever said anything about it.
Some of the guys thought that aside from the girls; being able to get away with anything you wanted was the greatest perk of all. I would respectfully disagree - everyone needs boarders and restrictions. Without proper lines and rules to follow, people fall into disarray and anarchy.
If you don’t believe me, you obviously haven’t met my team-mates.

If I had to pick one, Patrick Kane would be my best friend on the team. He was also the team’s punching bag, scapegoat, fall-out and the butt of every joke. Don’t feel sorry for him though; what he lacks with the guys he makes up for with the girls - the one thing I’ll never understand. The kid can hardly match his socks but he always had girls crawling on him… oh well. Girls are always more trouble than they’re worth.
Dramatic, mildly-psychotic and needy… no thank you.

Next you have Duncan and Versteeg. Those two always found the most random things to get into; not to mention their relationship borders on creepy. At least they tended to stay out of trouble. All in all, they were alright guys, but they acted more like children then guys in their 20s.

Burish and Sharpie were the worst of the worst. I would say that they acted like children; but only if those children were from some messed-up, Japanese horror film. Like children, they had a hard time understanding the concept of ’no’, or the ideas behind ’rules’ and ’morals’.
The only real difference was that most children weren’t evil or diabolical; Burish and Sharpie most certainly were.



“No!” I yelled loudly, trying to stop Burish in his tracks. It had the opposite effect. He took off full speed towards the door; leaving me standing in the locker-room. I honestly wasn’t sure why he was even running, it’s not like I could physically stop him, even though I wanted to. “I said no!” I yelled one last time as the door swung behind him.
Of course I was going to say no! I wasn’t even sure why he would ask - other than to get a rise out of me I suppose. I sighed, why would I give them my blessing to go out tonight?

We had just suffered a humiliating 5-0 loss to Pittsburgh; and they wanted to go out, gallivanting around! They wanted to take off roaming around the city - ’painting the town red’, as Sharpie had put it; with no regard at all for what really needed to be done.
They needed to calm down - not get drunk. They needed to stay in - not pick up. They needed to work harder - not party their little hearts out. I bet Sidney Crosby doesn’t have to put up with this crap… I exhaled loudly as the rest of the guys left the room, leaving Pat and I alone.

I turned around to face him; finding him staring longingly at the door. “Just go Pat.” I said, nodding at the door.

“Are you sure?” He raised his eyebrows, looking between the door and me, torn between his need to be loyal to me, and his hormones.

I nodded. “There’s no point in you staying in, they’re all gone so… go ahead. I’ll see you later.” He gave me a smile and headed out the door.
I took one last look around the empty room, grabbing my stuff and heading out into the parking lot. Thank god I brought my car, I smiled as I threw my gear in the back. No point of me staying here… I might as well head home.


I drove through the night with no music on. I wasn’t a huge music fan to begin with; especially not while driving. I had obviously never done a study - but I’m sure you’d find most people that get into accidents, do so while listening to music.
Not me! I’ll take a nice quiet atmosphere that allows me to concentrate any day.
The lack of music also allowed one to focus on the sounds of their car; you can never be too cautious when it comes to your vehicle… keep it functional and well-oiled, and it would never let you down.
Never let you down like that… I thought smugly as I passed an old Dodge Spirit on the side of the road; you’d never see that happen to me… just shows you how well it pays to be prepared.

“Speaking of which…” I said quietly as I saw a girl walking down the side of the road. She looked young, and who knows what kind of creeps are out at this time of night…
I slowed down to a crawl-pace, coming up behind her. “Umm… excuse me Miss, are you ok?” She let out a yelp and spun around, coming to face me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Is that your car back there?”

I pointed over my shoulder and she looked back in the direction of the dead Dodge. “Yah… something’s wrong with the engine I guess…”

I nodded knowingly, why you should always get your car checked before taking a road trip…“Oh, do you want a drive… somewhere?” I asked finally, deciding it wouldn’t be prudent to criticize someone I didn’t know.

“Where are you heading?” She asked, as she leaned down towards the opened window.

“Chicago.”

“Sounds like a blast.” I bent over the passenger seat and opened the door for her. She slid in and gave me a shy grin, “You’re not an axe murderer are you?”

“Umm… no. But shouldn’t you have asked that before you got in?” She shrugged, nonchalantly, like it didn’t actually matter one way or the other. I stared at her for a minute, put off by her careless attitude. I knew I wasn’t a creep, but she didn’t know that…

The more I studied her, the more I realized that she was a walking shamble. She looked like something out of a 60s music video. She had long blond-ish dreads, halfway down her back; beads and all throughout it. Her eyes were an intense green; the same color as the green, ripped hoodie that she was wearing. My eyes fell down the rest of her body as I studied the tight, ripped jeans she was wearing… topped off… by bare feet. I just got my car detailed… I sighed as I looked back up at her face, how can anyone be that untidy?
Finally noticing my stare she gave me mock model pose; causing me to chuckle as I pulled out, back onto the highway.



“So what’s your name?” I asked once we were inside the city.

“Ryker Willowfox.” She said easily. I laughed out loud, “what?”

“Seriously? That doesn’t even sound like a real name… Willowfox?” I shook my head, she had the be playing me…

“It’s a Wiccan last name… my parents are Pagans.” She sounded genuinely confused by my reaction.

I looked over at her and pulled the grin off my face. Mr. Serious was back as I put my eyes back on the road. “Oh… sorry.” I was surprised when she started laughing.

“You’re like a robot… how do you control your emotions that easily?” She stared in disbelief, looking at me like she was waiting for wires to pop out of my neck.

I stopped at a red and light and turned around to face her. “I don’t know… practice I guess.” For someone so catastrophic, she was at least perceptive. That was one of my more marketable qualities, my ability to mask emotions and do what needed to be done.

She nodded thoughtfully. “So what’s your normal name?” Her eyes returned back out the window, as I started to drive again.

“Jonathan Toews.” And now the hockey references start… To my surprise, she was laughing

Obviously not a Hawks fan…“What?”

She continued to laugh for a while, I tried to keep a straight face “You think my name is weird? Jonathan Toews? Johnny Toews? It sounds like the alias for a superhero… Johnny Toews, saving Chicago… one criminal at a time…” She snorted before bursting into laughter again; this time however, I joined her.


“So… where do you live?” I asked once the laughter died down.

“Here’s fine.” I looked at Ryker, then out then window.

“We’re in the ghetto.”

She shrugged at the concerned look on my face. “I walk lots…”

I shook my head incredulity, “I’m not letting you out here. If you get shot, I’ll feel bad.”

“Thank you, that‘s a nice thing to say.” I glanced over at her, I was being sarcastic; she was completely sincere.

“You’re welcome…” I put my eyes back on the road and shook my head. What a girl…


I came to a stop outside of a run-down apartment building. “Umm… are you sure you’re ok here?”

“Yep. That’s me up there.” She pointed up at a broken balcony, turning back to smile at me.

“Ok… well… have a good night.” She nodded, reaching her hand out for the door handle.

“I‘m glad you weren‘t an axe-murderer.” I nodded this time - taking that as her form of ’thank you’ - and giving her a smile. She squinted at me for a second, cocking her head to the side.
Before I had time to react, she grabbed my face and planted a kiss on my cheek. I was still in shock as I watched her walk around the front of the car; stopping to talk to some homeless men on the stoop.

I drove away slowly, trying to figure out what the heck had just happened. I pulled into my driveway and shook my head as I slammed the car door behind me. What a girl…