Page 5 of Geeky Pucking Orc

I looked exactly like the sort of woman who could turn an orc hockey team into a viral sensation.

And now I had to actually do it.

2

BWAT

In the past few weeks I had watched twenty-four instructional videos on skating. I had read seventeen articles on stopping, edge control, and speed. Unfortunately none of them increased my ability on these stupid knife-blade shoes.

I memorized the regulation dimensions of a hockey rink, the average shift length, and the statistical probability of a successful zone entry given various defensive formations. None of that has made me a better hockey player. Probably because I’ve got no idea what a zone entry is, or a defensive formation. Or a shift.

I sucked, as the humans would say. Sadly, “sucking” was not something new for me.

This reminded me painfully of back home where no amount of study or practice managed to turn me into even a mediocre warrior or hunter. At least here I wasn’t required to catch and kill my own food. The meat section of the supermarket was more than adequate at supplying my needs, as was the delightful selection of fresh fruits and vegetables and endless variety of baked goods.

Ozar shouted, breaking me out of my reverie about cellophane-wrapped rib eye steaks. He’d managed to bully us all onto the ice in an attempt to ensure our next hockey game was less humiliating. Judging from the orcs sprawled all over the rink, his efforts would not be successful.

“Get the puck! Fast! Fast!” he shouted.

Those of us still upright scrambled to comply, digging our blades into the ice in an attempt to gain traction. I winced, thinking of the human Ralph’s frustration as he tried to smooth the divots out with his large machine. I believe the machine was called a “Macaroni” or something.

Trying to remember what the videos had advised, I managed to launch myself forward with what felt like impressive speed. Ozar shouted in approval until I overshot the puck and, unable to stop, slammed into the boards.

I bounced off, frantically tried to retain my footing, and failed. On my back, I regarded the ceiling with its network of metal supports and huge suspended lights and wished I’d been offered a different choice of occupation here in the human world. Anything but hockey. I might have been competent at sweeping floors or assisting customers at the supermarket. This? I was not remotely competent at this.

One of my teammates must have managed to lay their stick on the puck because the minotaur-turd shaped object slid slowly towards me and stopped against my thigh.

“Get up, Bwat!” Ozar shouted.

Rising from the ice was not easy. My skates slid along the smooth surface and all I managed to do was shift from lying on my back to lying on my stomach. I was in good company. Several other orcs seemed to be having the same difficulty. I wondered if we’d need to crawl our way off the ice, or if human Ralph would eventually have to push us off with the Macaroni Machine.

Giving up was not in my nature. I rocked and squirmed and managed to push myself into a seated position. Recalling video eleven, I put my hands on the ice and eased myself to my feet. Wide stance. The video had insisted that stability and balance required base width.

I attempt to implement the advice, worried that I may have placed my feet too far apart. There was clearly a wide that enhanced stability, and a wide that put me at risk of pulling a groin muscle. Shifting my feet a few inches closer together, I positioned my stick and tapped the puck toward Morag.

Movement at the other side of the arena caught my attention. The doors opened. The ice, Ozar’s shouts, the other orcs, the skates…it all faded far into the background as Abby walked in.

Abby.

Two weeks ago we’d suffered a loss at our very first hockey game. More than a loss. We were deliberately brought into this team unprepared, to play the fools and provide entertainment for the attending humans. Retiring to a nearby pub with a few of my teammates, I began to doubt my decision to come to the human world. We were all here to find human females to marry and then return home, but I’d hoped for something a little different. I’d hoped to find purpose here as well as a wife. I’d hoped that in this world I could deliver something of value. But so far, I was just as useless here as I was back home.

In that dark moment I had considered returning to the orc world, but then a human female invited us to join her and her friends for drinks. I’d glanced over at the table she’d indicated and had seen her.

My stomach had lurched. My heart had stuttered. I felt as if I were having a medical emergency, but instead of calling for a healer, I was pulled by an invisible force across the pub to the chair by this female’s side.

Abby. Her name was Abby, and she was poetry come to life. Her straight hair was the color of a muddy waterfall. Her eyes were like algae covered ponds. Her skin was pale tan and pink like the cave lizards in the Kzakra Mountains. She smelled of warmth and sunshine, and the substance humans use to clean their clothing. I had never seen a female so beautiful. When she smiled at me, I felt as if I might die.

But I did not die. Somehow I managed to speak, and the evening went from terrible to the best of my life.

She’d informed me that if the appetizer listings on the pub menu were reorganized and were in a different font, patrons would be more likely to order them. She moved her hands while she spoke, illustrating invisible categories in the air. Her eyes were bright. Her expression contained both focus and amusement, as if the world were a puzzle she enjoyed solving.

I too felt as if the world were a puzzle that I enjoyed solving. Maybe not menu appetizers or whatever a font was, but things like how history informs our present, how art and song connect us with our ancestors, how knowledge can be passed down in a way that opens closed doors and makes all things possible.

“Bwat!”

I return to the present as the puck skipped toward me. Reacting with admirable speed and zero skill, I swung my stick…and missed. The puck struck my skate, deflecting to be immediately claimed by Ugwyll.

“Good pass!” he said.