South of the Border

South of the Border

I don’t want you to think I’m boy crazy because I’m not at all. I have played ice

hockey practically my whole life and now I’m on the cusp of seventeen. Every year in

Toronto they hold the prospects tournament for girls and boys that are scouted to

participate in scrimmage games for the benefit of being signed to division one schools. I

haven’t decided if I will sign with Cornell or Wisconsin. I totally ruled out Minnesota-

Duluth and North Dakota. I just know I’m going to wind up with some backwards

Evangelical Christian chick, strumming a guitar, trying to get me to come with her to

some youth festival where some dude who looks like David Koresh, gets you to join the

church as if he were selling time shares in Cancun.

I don’t want you to think I’m a total lush too because I’m not at all. I was upstairs

in the restaurant at the Beatrice Ice Rink next to York University. A bunch of the boys

just got finished and I was eating nachos with a girl named Judy from Kingston, Ontario

and Vishna from Barrie, Ontario. Vishna is Indian but was born in Nigeria. She lived in

London for a year and then her father found a job in Canada. She is a really pretty Indian

girl and the first one I ever met that did not smell of Curry when she sweats. In fact I

asked her flat out.

“So do you like Curry?”

“Um… Do you carry a shaleighly and look for your Lucky Charms?”

“Don’t get pissy… It’s a reasonable question, eh?”

“I also don’t have a dot on my forehead, work at Tim Horton’s or drive a fucking


“Damn… What a temper! Do you have a one hump or two hump camel?”

Vishna looked at me as angry as could be. I busted out laughing and she laughed

too. This happened last year and we have kept in touch through email ever since. Barrie,

was the province champions last year and we played them in the quarter finals. Vishna is

really fast.

Judy is tall and has straight blond hair and is really pretty. She plays the tuba and

is the total honour student. She is really quiet but a great hockey player. I come from

Windsor which is just over the bridge from Detroit. The people there love the Red Wings

instead of the Maple Leafs. I followed the Windsor Spitfires of the Ontario Hockey

League. I think watching them and my brother was what got me into the sport.

So I was eating nachos with Vishna and Judy when these absolutely gorgeous

guys from Buffalo, New York came up to our table. Scott, who has blond hair and

dimples when he smiles, sat down and dipped his middle finger in the cheese and put it

into his mouth slowly.

“I just love cheese on the nacho…”

Vishna let into him right away.

“That was really gay…”

To say gay to a male hockey player under the age of eighteen is really an attack on

the essence of his maleness. It prevented him and the other two guys with him from

acting stupid. They suddenly became really cool.

“So like… What schools have talked to you?” Asked a boy named Bill with a

buzz cut and faint freckles.
Bill got signed to Guelph. Scott was going to Lake Forest College in Illinois to

play division three hockey. Colin had not been signed yet but was hoping to go to

Brantford in the Ontario Hockey League. For American guys, they weren’t so bad. They

thought they were all so funny saying “eh” after everything.

Vishna really had a thing for Scott. They talked to each other all throughout the

next day and went down to the Hall of Fame in downtown Toronto on the off day. Scott

invited all of us to a party in Buffalo.

I really don’t care much for the states. It’s dirty, crowded and really have an over

abundance of obese people. Vishna was crazy to go. Judy and I really didn’t want to

cross the border to go to a house party but we did. We got into Vishna’s father’s car and

drove over the border. The American border guard was a nice old man. He never asked

to see our passports. We found the house in a clean suburb. It was actually really low

keyed. There was only like twenty people there and it was nice. A good looking guy

with brown curly hair, came up to talk to me. His pants were sagging and he wore his

Yankees hat cocked to the right. He had all the hand gestures of a rapper including

fondling his penis with his right hand while gesturing with his left hand. Our

conversation was a trip. He kept trying to look down my cleavage when it was my turn to

speak. I don’t think he heard me much.

“Yeah so I play hockey…”

“Cool, cool… You all still wear them skirts and run around with candy canes?”

“Um… That’s field hockey. I play on the ice.”

“Oh hell naw! Girls playing like dudes? Shit… You all be giggling and

squealing and shit?”
That ended that conversation. I wished him well in his endeavours to become a

producer. Other than piss, shit and babies, I don’t know what he could produce.

Anyway, I also talked with a bunch of guys who also played hockey and a couple

of their girlfriends. I had a couple of Coronas and a shot of some licorice tasting stuff

that like burned me on the inside. I think Vishna was in one of the bedrooms with Scott.

I personally think it’s sort of gross since they just met but whatever. Judy and I didn’t ask

any questions and she didn’t tell. We could tell though that she was in a stupid way right

now. Her mind was locked and fixated on the blond kid with the dimples. He was totally

in love with his Indian version of Barbie. They kissed for like five minutes while we

waited in the car. We got to the border and the Canadian border official, who was a short

French guy asked us questions in French purposely.


Vishna must have been riding high from finding love. She decided to give a smart

assed answer to entertain us. The short French guy was not amused.

“No, no it’s a Saturn…”

Of course we laughed. Short men always think women are making fun of them.

He stepped out of his little booth and ordered us to pull around to an area where they dig

through your trunk. Vishna tried to reason with him.

“I was only joking… Citoyen sounds like a car model.”

“Drinking and driving, eh?”

“Oh my god! We’re hockey players! We’re in the prospects tourney in York.”

“Okay. Well it’s one in the morning. I’m sure you’re not playing hockey now,

Vishna backed the car up as if she going to go into the stall where they strip

search your car. Instead she wheeled around and raced back over the bridge, dodging cars

coming towards us. She broke the wooden gate at the toll booth on the American side

and raced down side streets in downtown Buffalo. She called Scott on her cell phone. I

resorted to rhetorical questions.

“Are you fucking crazy?! They’re going to put us in prison! Do you wanna be in

an American prison? No school in North America will take us now… Oh my god,


“You don’t understand! My father will send me to live with family in India if he

finds out that I went over to America. I promised him I would be good and just stay in

the room.”

I had a horrible feeling that my scholarship chances would be gone as well as my

opportunity to try out for Team Canada. We drove aimlessly down streets as Vishna tried

to find her way back to Scott’s house. Judy sat with her arms folded and showed no

emotion. I felt like smacking her face.

“Judy! What the hell?” I said to her.

“What? What did I do?” She asked, quite angered now.

“How can you just sit there and not say a fucking word?” I asked.

“Because I am fucking numb right now. We’re like fugitives.” Said Judy.

Vishna was crying and swearing because Scott wasn’t picking up his phone. We

eventually pulled up and Vishna went back into the house to find them. Vishna left the

car running. There was a Dave Mathews song playing. It reminded me of my last

boyfriend. He had tickets to see Dave Mathews. I couldn’t go with my boyfriend and so he went with a bunch of friends. Kelly from my team last year got drunk and blew him at

the concert. I found out from friends of my boyfriend what had happened. At the next

practice, I took a shit and piss in her hockey bag while practice was going on. I left the

ice and dropped a tremendous shit in her bag. I eat a lot of vegetables and so the fiber

really helped produce the effect I was looking for. She made me feel like shit by blowing

my boyfriend and I made a really large smelly turd for her to deal with. Of course we fist

fought and I beat her ass. It’s not Dave Mathews fault, he had no way of knowing. I

think he’s a good guy.

Somehow Vishna got Scott to drive us over the border in his father’s minivan.

When we got to the border, the same little French guy stopped him. Our hearts were

jumping out of our chests. He gave Scott a hard time.

“Why are you going to Canada at three in the morning?”

“Um well, I’m in this prospects tournament and I live in Buffalo and so I’m just

going back to the rink… To the hotel by the rink.”

Boys are so inarticulate. He was a mumbling mess of lies and the little

Frenchman knew it.

“Which hotel?”

“It’s right by the rink by the university.”

Oh my god! What a blond disaster he had become. Our future in college sports

rested in the hands of an imbecile.

“Um my dad is sleeping in the hotel and I had to go home because I left my skates

there and had to borrow a pair earlier and I like fell asleep watching Buffalo play

Vancouver… It was an awesome game. But anyway, I had three games today and I was fatigued.”

A bit better but still not off the hook yet.

“What do you have in the back of the van?”

“Just my equipment… Do you wanna see it?”

I almost screamed. How could he invite the border guard to check his car?

“The last thing I want to see or smell is your equipment right now… You’re free

to go.”

We were free to get back into our country. We did not get caught. I wanted to

stop and kiss the ground right there at Niagara but the sentiment quickly passed. It was

four before we got back to our room and the alarm clock went off at seven. It felt like I

had just closed my eyes. I played like shit and so did Judy and Vishna. We took a nap

between games and were fine.

Vishna was able to talk Scott into putting New York plates on her Ontario

licensed car. Vishna got her car back into Canada. Scott had to lie again. He said he had

purchased a used car. There were a lot of cars that day and so he got away with it.

Vishna sent his plates UPS and everything turned out mostly okay.

Vishna was eating dinner when the Royal Canadian Mounted Police came to her

door in Barrie. They questioned her about speeding away from the border. She

vehemently denied being near Niagara much less the states. They questioned her over

and over until she broke down and told them the truth. Turns out that the detective was a

former junior league player from Barrie and he worked things out for Vishna without her

parents ever finding out. Vishna actually stayed in contact with Scott. She drove twice to

see him in Buffalo since the incident. She even saw the same border guard. The French guy asked again in

French her citizenship. Vishna learned to say Canadian.

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