Saturday, April 26, 2008

Chapter 1 - Some Kind of Wonderful

As I got off the plane in Halifax, Nova Scotia I looked around. Despite what I’d said to my Mom before I got on the plane, I was absolutely petrified. Yes, I’d been here once before, but only twice. The first time when I was here, a couple members of the school board who were interviewing me for the position in Dartmouth met me at the airport. The second time, the principal of the school where I would be teaching met me at the airport to help me find a place. This was completely and totally different.

I was here, I was moving, but I was pretty much on my own. There was no one at the airport to meet me. My things were already at the apartment. They’d been unpacked by the movers (which I had only been able to afford thanks to the moving allowance the school board had provided me with) about three days ago.

Or at least that was what was supposed to happen I discovered as I arrived by cab at my apartment in the suburb of Cole Harbour. All of my stuff was in my apartment, but nothing at all was unpacked. I moaned. It was suppertime. I was tired. All I wanted was to grab something to eat, veg on the couch and watch TV and then go to bed.

I’d been traveling since 8:00 am Manitoba time and now I was in Nova Scotia and it was nearly 5:30. It was more like 3:30 to my body, but traveling is always tiring. I wanted a meal so that I could get my body used to Nova Scotia time. Yet I really couldn’t. Nothing was set up, nothing was unpacked all of the boxes were just piled in the middle.

To top it off, none of my furniture was set up. It was just put in the room that it belonged it. To make matters even worse for a hungry traveler, there was no food in the house. Not that I hadn’t been expecting that. What I’d been expecting however, was an unpacked apartment, so I could just call for delivery.

I sighed. I was far, far too angry to bother with ordering supper. And I was far to frustrated to bother trying to set anything up. I was not exactly good with my hands. It was why I had gone to University rather then trade school. I was not good at putting things together.

I should probably tell you who I am before I continue with the story. My name is Darryl Katerina Yelsaveta Koryluk, and before you jump on the name, my Mom named me after hockey great Darryl Stittler. I have never quite figured out why, nor am I really sure I want to know. My Mom isn’t even really a hockey fan, but I guess he impressed her somehow. Either that or she was high as a fricking kite on morphine when she named me a few hours after I was born (although after 48 hours of hard labour – 72 hours total, who could blame her?)

I’m now 22 years old and I’m actually from Yorkton, Saskatchewan, but I moved with my Mom to Winnipeg, Manitoba before my little brother, (Wayne – yes that’s after Wayne Gretzky) Sasha, was born. His name is Wayne Aleksander, but we call him Sasha, and in case the last name didn’t give it away, we’re Ukrainian. I looked around the empty apartment and longed for something, anything, familiar.

Except there wasn’t anything. I wasn’t at home, I was in Nova Scotia, thousands of kilometres away from my family and friends, away from my support systems, and it was really my first time alone. Prior to accepting this job and moving to Nova Scotia, I’d pretty much always lived with my Mom and my little brother in our modest middle class home in Winnipeg, Manitoba. Even when I was going to University, I lived with them.

I’d spent a year subbing in Winnipeg before I really bothered applying all over the country. I wanted a job pretty badly. I didn’t want to live with my Mom and brother anymore.

Little did I realize as I sent out job applications and flew all over the country (thank goodness for a best friend who works for West Jet and buddy passes) doing interviews that the best offer I would receive would be from a junior high in Nova Scotia. But it was where I got the best offer. The one I wanted… the one where I got to teach English and Social Studies. So I took it.

I found a summer job, knowing that I wanted to move before summer so that I had a chance to adjust to being so far away from my family and to being on my own for the first time. I got work at a summer day camp. It was sports, music, and the generic arts and crafts and games. I was excitedly looking forward to it.

I’d been a cheerleader in high school and University, and I’d cheered for the Blue Bombers since I was 18, so I was going to be teaching some basic cheering to girls and boys (I hoped), as well as basic gymnastics and dance. It sounded like a challenge. And if there was one thing that I’d always enjoyed, it was a challenge.

In that moment though, as I looked around my new apartment, I was near tears. I wanted to call my Mom, but first, I’d have to find the box I’d packed the phone in. I didn’t even want to think about where it could possibly be. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

The only things that I had here that I knew precisely where they were, were my clothes. They were in the bags I’d brought with me from the airport. I needed to blow off some steam before I even thought about tackling this mess. So I headed into what was supposed to be my bedroom (mattress and bed frame – unassembled by the way, leaning up against the wall) and changed into my running clothes.

I had my MP3 player in my carryon and I grabbed that, pulled on my sneaker and made my way out of the building. I had no clue where I was going, but I just needed to run. It was a gorgeous early evening and I jogged slowly at first, allowing myself to warm up. Finally, I caught sight of a park and made my way to the path, picking up the pace.

I’m not exactly sure how long I ran. I just ran. The breeze in my face, the late day sun on my skin. It was great. I worked up a great sweat and got back to my apartment feeling a lot better about myself and about the whole situation.

I spent the rest of the night setting up the essentials. My couch and TV especially. I know this sounds bad from someone who’s all athletic and stuff, but I can’t live without my TV. I slept on the couch that night and then I spent the next couple of days getting organized.

I’d arranged to buy a used car and went and picked it up. I called the moving company and was given half of my money back because the movers and packers failed in the unpacking portion of the contract. Then I spent a couple of days in training for my new job.

I also ran. Every night when I got home from doing whatever it was I had been doing that day, I ran. The park was beautiful and I really enjoyed my runs. There were often other runners out in the park, and the night before Canada day, after my second day of training, I went for a run along my usual path.

It was later then usual… closer to 9 and the sun had started to go down. I ran like I always did, glad for the chance to get out of the apartment and to just be alone with my thoughts. I had been totally out of shape that first night, but I had pushed myself, and it was already paying off.

I felt better, and I looked better already too. I know this sounds really vain, but a few good runs does wonders for the figure and wonders for the confidence. I’d run past a lot of young guys in the past few days who’d taken the time to get a second look at me.

It was flattering, but it was going to take a lot more then that to turn my head. Actually, I shouldn’t say that. Because of the young runners DID manage to turn my head. But it had nothing to do with the fact that he stopped to take a second look at me.

In fact, I don’t think he even noticed me. Not that I expected him to, because, well he was Sidney Crosby after all. I might have been good looking, but guys like Sidney Crosby did not look at me twice.

In case you have, I don’t know, been living under a rock for the past, oh three years, Sidney Crosby is the top prospect in hockey history since, well maybe Eric Lindros, but probably Alexandre Daigle. Scouts and GMs in the NHL drool over him. They have wet dreams about this kid.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I knew where he was from, but it had nothing to do with my decision. Despite the fact that the NHL had been locked out for the past year, I knew full well when I accepted the job that the NHL was on the verge of a new deal and I honestly did not think that I would ever see him.

Yet there he was, running past me, saying ‘hi’ as he did so. My jaw nearly dropped to the ground and I struggled to maintain my composure. After all, it’s not every day that a girl gets this close to a hockey phenom.

Of course, little did I know at the time just how close Sidney and I were going to become…

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