Descent into Ruin: Day 2

Word Count: 12,265

Summary of Events:

Chalmers went early on the second day of camp to work with Coach Seaborn, which he found a helpful and productive time, before seeking out the general manager, only to find he was out of town for his daughter's wedding. While he waited for the general manager to return, Chalmers thought about, wrote out, and rehearsed what he would say, before finally he was told that the general manager, Mr. Cragg, had returned from the wedding. He then sought out Mr. Cragg and shared his concerns . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“Okay,” Mr. Cragg said. “What sort of things was he saying?”

“Well, to me specifically he said that I must’ve been taught hockey by someone who didn’t even know how to skate,” Chalmers replied.

Mr. Cragg startled and almost looked like he wanted to question Chalmers, who set his jaw in an effort to dispel such thoughts from Mr. Cragg’s mind.

“I don’t really appreciate my grandpa being talked about like that,” Chalmers said. “Not that he actually knew my grandpa taught me, but, even since then, he’s really been hard on me, as if, he seems to think you were kind of stupid for drafting me first overall.”

“Really?” Mr. Cragg asked.

“According to one of the news guys posting on, I think it was Facebook, I’ve been demoted off the first line because Audric, Jalen, and Slater Dunn are the only guys on the team he considers standouts,” Chalmers replied. “And just to be clear, I don’t think Slater’s garbage, but I’ve not exactly been a slouch out there. This is my draft season, I’ve got to look good or I’m not going to get picked at all, forget where I’m projected to go.”

“So, are you making a trade request then?” Mr. Cragg asked.

Chalmers was sure his small intestines had just wrapped up his stomach like a mummy as his insides contracted within him in alarm.

“No,” he replied. “No, no, no, no, no… no, I don’t want to go anywhere. Please don’t trade me. I like it here, and I think we’re– we’ve got the potential to, to, to improve, to make the playoffs, you know, all the stuff we want to do, I just don’t understand why Coach Leslie seems to think I, particularly, am verging on garbage. Please, please don’t trade me.”
“It’s okay,” Mr. Cragg said. “I wouldn’t trade you unless it was a good move for the team, and for you, and, right now, I don’t think a trade would be for either party.”

Chalmers felt relief wash over him and could easily imagine his intestines sliding off his stomach into a heap of relaxed coils.

“Nonetheless, what you’ve said is concerning,” Mr. Cragg said. “And I’m going to have to do some talking and looking. Is it just Darren?”
“Yes,” Chalmers replied. “Coach Seaborn actually says he thinks I’m one of the best players he’s ever coached, and the rest of them haven’t suggested much differently either.”

“Well, thank you for bringing this to my attention Chalmers,” Mr. Cragg said. “I’ll look into it.”

“Thank you,” Chalmers replied, feeling much-relieved.

“You’re welcome,” Mr. Cragg said. “There wasn’t anything else you had to say?”

“No, I’ll let you do your work now,” Chalmers said.

“Well, thank you,” Mr. Cragg said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You too,” Chalmers replied.

Chalmers walked away from Mr. Cragg feeling quite relieved — even if his heart had about stopped when Mr. Cragg had suggested his being traded — and hopeful that Mr. Cragg would be able to effect change that would see him and his teammates treated as more competent athletes by Coach Leslie than they presently seemed to be.

Descent into Ruin: Day 1

Word Count: 6,162

Summary of Events:

Chalmers arrived at the first day of training camp, where he caught up with his returning teammates regarding what they'd been up to all summer before they hit the ice and met their new coaching staff, who asked them a few questions to get to know them before they got started. During the drills Chalmers found himself not only paired with players he'd never played with before — some because they'd been his opponents the season before — but also a frequent target of criticism for the head coach. After camp was over Chalmers shared his frustrations with his sympathetic girlfriend, who suggested he tell the team's General Manager about his issues, which he decided he would do in person the following day. Later in the evening, his grandma called from BC, and he recounted the day's events to her . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“Well, what happened dear?” Grandma asked, sounding worried.

“To start with, he thought I was a weirdo for liking goalies when I’m not a goalie,” Chalmers replied. “Then he went and put us in lines based on our numbers, which isn’t necessarily bad, but, it did seem a little arbitrary, and he had us do a basic three-on-two zone entry drill. I was with a centre we got from the Raiders in the offseason and last season’s fourth-line right wing, and I thought we did pretty decent considering our combination, but he thought we were, like, the worst, and that I was the worst of us.”
“Oh,” Grandma said, sounding surprised.

“He said he couldn’t believe I was a first-round prospect, and when I went and worked with one of the other coaches on things — and this other coach thought that I was just a little rusty, which I am — and then came back and did it again, he said I’d gotten worse and said I must’ve been taught how to play hockey by someone who didn’t even know how to skate, but thought they knew what to do because they watched hockey on T V all the time.”

“That’s not very nice of him to say at all,” Grandma said.

“Exactly!” Chalmers exclaimed. “I’m glad I didn’t tell him Grandpa taught me, but, I mean, even though he didn’t know Grandpa taught me, he still insulted Grandpa.”

“Yes,” Grandma said.

“Like, I mean, this guy was hard on everybody, but he was always harder on my trio, and hardest on me,” Chalmers said. “I was almost wondering if I shouldn’t try to play like some two-year-old playing for their first time just to see if he wouldn’t have thought I was good then, but it was just frustrating. He even made me stay late and work with Coach Seaborn — who’d been working with me all day — and then came to the conclusion that Coach Seaborn was doing it all wrong and so came onto the ice to tell Coach Seaborn what he had wrong.”

“Oh dear,” Grandma said.

“I thought it was going to be just a quick little comment, but he went on and on and so I started skating around to keep myself from, you know, going cold and stiff and stuff,” Chalmers continued. “But then he tells me to stop and stand still and so I did, but he kept going on and on and on and so I started again and he told me to stop again, and I’m like ‘I’m going to get stiff and hurt myself’ and he’s like ‘I would’ve expected a player like you to be more respectful of his coaches,’ like he didn’t care if I got injured. Like, how did this guy get a job in the NHL if he doesn’t know this kind of basic stuff? I’m going to complain to the GM tomorrow because it was just stupid. I don’t know how this guy is any good.”

May Novel Essential Information

Novel Title: Descent into Ruin

Time Setting: 2021

Genre: Life

Minimum Word Goal: 90,000

Timespan: August–April

Locations: Brandon, Manitoba; Sidney, British Columbia; Franchise-Hosting Cities of the Western Hockey League

Main Characters: Chalmers MacKenna

Background Information: 

Chalmers was born the only child of a union so short-lived that it was over before he took his first breath. His father was from Nova Scotia, his mother from Alberta, and because of Chalmers’ impending arrival, his father had brought his mother to Nova Scotia to meet his parents.

Following the meeting, his parents got into a row, as his mother loved Nova Scotia and wanted to stay, but his father insisted they would be financially better off if they went back to Alberta, and eventually returned there alone at the end of the argument.

As a result, Chalmers’ mother was taken in by a family in Oldham, Nova Scotia, who ended up being Chalmers’ primary caretakers upon his birth because his mother had been convinced she was going to give birth to a daughter, and rejected Chalmers for not merely being a son, but having a striking resemblance to his father, whom she no longer loved.

Her benefactors were the ones who tracked down Chalmers’ paternal grandparents in Middle Musquodoboit, Nova Scotia, and asked them if they would be interested in taking custody of their grandson.

Chalmers’ grandparents immediately agreed, and so he was handed over, being given his legal name by his grandparents, as his mother hadn’t wanted to name him, and the benefactors didn’t believe it to be their place.

Life with his grandparents was a pleasant one for Chalmers, until he got to school age and proceeded to be bullied by schoolmates because he didn’t know where his father and mother were, prompting him to seek answers from his grandparents.

His grandma didn’t think he was old enough to understand what had happened, but his grandpa told him anyways, leading Chalmers to be extremely devastated and ashamed, to the point that he withdrew socially, even cutting off friendships, and even feared his grandparents didn’t really want him for a time.

Prior to reaching school age, Chalmers was introduced by his grandpa to the game of hockey, and specifically to the Montréal Canadiens, his grandpa’s favourite team. Chalmers quickly came to love both, and thus eagerly spent even the coldest of days out skating on the backyard rink his grandpa built every winter, where his grandpa — an avid amateur hockey player for years — noticed Chalmers had a knack for hockey such as differentiated the best players of the NHL from their peers.

As a result, he did what he could to coach Chalmers not only on the ice in the winter, but on inline skates in the summertime, until the winter after Chalmers turned nine.

That winter, Chalmers’ grandpa came down with bronchitis, which ended up claiming his life, to Chalmers and his grandma’s extreme devastation.

Hardly a month after his grandpa’s death, a significant snowstorm such as would usually come once a winter struck the area, leaving Chalmers and his grandma trapped for nearly a week because the tractor wouldn’t start and their phone line got damaged, preventing them from being able to call neighbours.

As a result, Chalmers’ grandma was convinced that she and Chalmers couldn’t remain on the small farm that had been in the MacKenna family since the 1700s, and so sold the farm, moving herself and Chalmers to Sidney, British Columbia, where her youngest daughter — and her only child still on speaking terms with her — lived, and had an offer of a basement suite to live in.

Life in Sidney quickly proved to not be all that it had been hoped to be, as Chalmers’ cousins were both older than him, and the older of the two — also a boy — didn’t like Chalmers from the start, proceeding to go out of his way to make Chalmers’ life difficult.

Nevertheless, Chalmers was enrolled in organised hockey for the first time, where he performed poorly, unable to get on well with his teammates, and showed none of the skill he’d shown when playing with his grandpa.

One of the assistant coaches on the team, however, determined to sleuth out what was going on, and ended up befriending Chalmers and his grandma, becoming something like the father and older brother Chalmers had never had, while his own children became surrogate grandchildren to Chalmers’ grandma.

With his help, Chalmers regained the ability to forge friendships and soon was showing all the skill his grandpa had seen in him and more, proving to be nearly dominant at every level of hockey he played, which led him to be considered good enough to be drafted first overall in the WHL Bantam Draft by the Brandon Wheat Kings.

After participating in two rookie camps, Chalmers made the Wheat Kings, and despite the fact that the Wheat Kings failed to make the playoffs, impressed the entire WHL with his skill, talent, and scoring abilities in both his rookie season, and the season thereafter.

Because Brandon has not succeeded in making the playoffs for the last two seasons, however, the Wheat Kings’ management made the decision following Chalmers’ second season to fire the entire coaching staff, and replace them with an all-new lineup, with the hopes that they will be able to make a return to the playoffs.

Although sad to see coaching staff whom he quite liked depart, Chalmers is hopeful that the change in coaching staff will succeed in bringing about the playoff competition that he and his teammates would love to participate in, especially considering that he will be under extra scrutiny during the season, being eligible for the next summer’s NHL Entry Draft, where he hopes to be picked by the Canadiens.

Pronunciations:

Musquodoboit: muhskohdohbit

Montréal: mohrehahl

Canadiens: kahnahdyeh'

Unexpected: Day 22

Word Total: 145,064

Year to Date: 415,189

Summary of Events:

Because of the length of their flight — which took them to London — they arrived late and Hilton took Meinwen to his flat for the night, where he gave her the use of his bed while he slept on the couch. The following morning, Meinwen was able to make them pancakes for breakfast from the few ingredients Hilton had in his kitchen. After breakfast, they undertook the over three-hour drive to Cardiff to return Meinwen home, even though Hilton had to admit he felt a massive reluctance at parting from Meinwen after all they'd been through . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Before he or Meinwen could speak to one another a delighted squeal split the air, prompting them both to turn and look toward the house, from which a young woman who physically resembled Meinwen came toward them.

“I knew it!” the young woman cried. “I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!”

She snatched Meinwen into a tight hug.

“All the time I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!” she said.

A sob burst from Meinwen, prompting the young woman Hilton presumed was her sister to startle and loosen her hold on Meinwen.

Meinwen, however, clung to her sister and sobbed, leaving her sister to look bemusedly at Hilton with eyes he noticed were a subtly more grey shade of blue than Meinwen’s.

“What did you know?” Hilton asked, feeling quite curious.

“Mr. Evans, her boss, came by asking what was going on with her, because she was saying an unexpected and inconvenient relative had come by, forcing her to miss work, but there was a sketch on television of someone wanted for threatening an American in Belfast that looked an awful lot like her,” she replied. “I’d seen the sketches, but Meinwen had also told me about the telephone box and everything, so I told Mr. Evans, who didn’t really want to believe me, so I told him that I’d bet him a hundred quid it would turn out she was innocent, and I’ve now won it.”
“Is that why her name was never publicised?” Hilton asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “We agreed as a family, as well as a good deal of her friends, that we wouldn’t tell the authorities her name because we didn’t believe her guilty, and we told anyone who expressed to us a desire to reveal her name that they didn’t have our consent to do so. Trahearn also went out of his way to tell people what sort of deleterious effects it could have on Meinwen’s life if her name was widely disseminated with a presumption of guilt, thus I would have every reason to believe that everyone, on second thought, decided not to tell.”

Hilton nodded. If only they had been able to get to Mum, Aunt Angie, and the rest to make them think twice about what could happen to him if his name had been publicised, but apparently they’d decided that muckrakers needed to make a living too.

“But why are you crying Meinwen?” her sister asked. “Aren’t you glad to be home?”
Meinwen nodded against her sister’s collarbone, but looked like she wouldn’t be able to summon the composure necessary to answer her sister’s first question.

Before Hilton could offer an answer for her, however, Meinwen lifted her head and looked straight at her sister, which showed Hilton that Meinwen was just the barest amount, maybe a centimetre, taller than her sister.

“I have seen enough cold-blooded killing, hate, and violence, to last a lifetime,” Meinwen replied, her voice trembling.

Her sister gasped, looking distraught. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story,” Hilton replied. “It might be easiest if we wait until everyone who wants to hear it is all in one place so we only have to tell it once.”

Next Post: 1 May

Unexpected: Day 21

Word Count: 140,091

Summary of Events:

After extensive questioning by the police in Kingston, during which Hilton offered them his mobile to examine and listen to the recording he'd made, Hilton and Meinwen were declared by the authorities to be innocent of any involvement in Dr. Stiles' kidnapping and murder… but they were also deemed to have both entered Jamaica illegally, meaning they had to leave immediately upon their release. They were given dispensation to get their luggage from where Hilton had left it, and Hilton was able to get permission from the official sent with them to make sure they did as they were supposed to to make a brief visit to Goldeneye, as Hilton had always wanted to go, and the official wanted him and Meinwen to have a good memory of Jamaica, considering all that had happened to them. At Goldeneye, Hilton took Meinwen a lovely, picturesque little spot with a view of the sea . . . 

Excerpt of the Day:

After a moment, Hilton took hold of her other hand so that he was positioned to be facing her, forcing Meinwen to look away from the sea and at him.

“Meinwen,” Hilton said softly, his face looking serious, but also nervous. “From the moment I first laid eyes on you, soaked to the skin and lying on the road after I nearly hit you… I’ve been taken by you in a way I’ve not been taken by another woman. Ever. And the more time I’ve spent with you, the more I’ve come to find in you a quality I can’t even put into words. I haven’t done half the things with you I’ve done with other women, but yet you mean more to me than the lot of them ever could. I do believe I’m falling in love with you Meinwen, in a way I’ve never loved a woman before, and I was wondering if I might have permission to express my love to you, by kissing you, here, on the lips.”

A twinge of that desperate little boy with the posy was on his face, and his hands seemed to be clutching hers with a desperation. He looked earnest, as well as sincere, as if the kiss he’d exchanged with that young woman not all that long ago was rubbish to him.

“Well,” Meinwen replied. “I must confess that you’re not hard to look at, admiringly, and… considering how honest you’ve been with me, I owe you the same. I do believe that there is something within me, a feeling, that I feel towards you, which I’ve never felt toward another man in all my life. I very much appreciate all you’ve done for me, and how you’ve treated me, from that very first moment. I don’t want our going home to be the end of our relationship. I believe that I… I am falling in love with you too. So I gladly give you the honour of being the first man since my father many years ago, when I was a little girl of three or so, to kiss my lips.”

Hilton looked a little startled. “You’ve never kissed a man before?”

Meinwen shook her head. “Nor, as I said, have I felt this sort of love toward one.”

This seemed to leave Hilton at a loss.

“We don’t want to keep him waiting Hilton,” Meinwen whispered.

Hilton nodded and drew her against himself, lowering his head. Meinwen felt a shock of trepidation that made her want to pull back, but Hilton’s mouth softly made contact with her own before she could, sending a rush of exhilaration through her that made her seize fistfuls of his shirt in her hands.

His hands pressed her against him, and Meinwen actually felt a wish that they would stay as they were for ages, as it truly felt more wonderful than she could possibly have imagined it could feel.

In the end, Meinwen willingly pulled back when his pressure on her back and head released, and saw Hilton’s face was a picture of the reluctance at parting she felt.

Unexpected: Day 20

Word Count: 135,198

Summary of Events:

The woman was in the midst of torturing Dr. Stiles when a siren sounded, prompting her to leave the room. Dr. Stiles, upon being told by Hilton that he and Meinwen weren't going to keep quiet about what Dr. Stiles had confessed to them, tried to bribe them into being quiet, but they were too disgusted by him to be bought. His efforts were interrupted by the woman returning to the room with a gun, that she immediately shot him with. Dr. Stiles' brother and Jamaican officials rushed through the door as she fired, and she and Mr. Stiles got into an argument that suggested they knew one another before she shot him also, leaving just her, Hilton, Meinwen, and the Jamaican authorities . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Nevertheless, they were edging closer to the woman, who backed away from them calmly. Hilton barely glimpsed Mr. Stiles’ body being taken up and drawn carefully away by a couple of the people, most of whom looked like Jamaicans.

The woman threatened them as she stepped confidently backwards, seeming to have a full awareness of what was behind her.

There seemed to be some nervousness, however, on the faces of the authorities that were slowly advancing toward her, the leader of whom was trying to negotiate with her to stand down, but to no avail. Hilton saw that she was even smiling once she had backed nearly past him.

Hilton startled when she surged suddenly toward him, wrapping her left arm around his throat and pressing the gun against his upper temple.

“Don’t take another step!” the woman snapped almost triumphantly. “Or the boy dies.”

One of the smallest rises of resentment Hilton had ever felt surged up within him at being called a boy, and he felt it was kept small by the tsunami of fear that rose in him at the same time. He could feel his heart racing. He didn’t want to die when someone else was making the rules of how it would happen.

The authorities looked concerned, while a glance toward Meinwen showed she had opened her eyes and was looking at him with terror. She would be alone without him. She could be the woman’s next victim. Meinwen needed him.

“Let him go,” one of the authorities said quietly.

“This gun is not empty,” the woman replied. “I could kill him and half of you lot before I’d have to worry about it being empty.”

Hilton wanted to whimper, but, at the same time, didn’t dare reveal his fear. He needed to be strong for Meinwen, notwithstanding the gun barrel being driven into his head, and the warm, bare, upper arm flesh preventing him from being able to relieve the pressure.

Suddenly a thought came to Hilton. He ran his tongue over the pointed tip of his upper left canine.

Shifting his head slightly, he bared his teeth before clamping them onto the woman’s arm.

She screamed and swore. He felt the pressure of the gun release. A clatter. He didn’t let go. The metallic taste of blood reached his tongue. 

Trying to pull her arm out of his hold, the woman made Hilton’s head turn as far to the left as it could go. He then had to tilt it fully back and pivot it from left to right before he was forced to let her arm go as his mind recoiled at the thought of having raw human flesh in his mouth.

The woman looked at him with savage hatred, her right hand clinging to her inner left arm, blood oozing between her fingers.

She swore shrilly at him as authorities surged in and apprehended her.

Unexpected: Day 19

Word Count: 130,013

Summary of Events:

Hiding under the blankets the following morning, Hilton and Meinwen checked the news on Hilton's mobile, which revealed to them that Hilton's message had been received, and the authorities had decided to be more discreet on where it'd come from this time around. Following lunch, Hilton and Meinwen were taken to a torture chamber and strapped into chairs, from which they were expected to watch the woman torture Dr. Stiles. During the torture, Hilton actually asked the woman what Dr. Stiles had done to her, and she answered without stopping her torture, which helped to distract her from the fact that Hilton and Meinwen were both too reviled by her actions to watch. The following day Hilton and Meinwen were, again, brought to the torture chamber, where Hilton removed his mobile from its hiding place against his foot and, in the short time they had with Dr. Stiles before the woman arrived, questioned Dr. Stiles . . . 

Excerpt of the Day:

“Considering the allegations made against you yesterday, Dr. Stiles, I would like to take advantage of the moment to enquire after their veracity,” Hilton said, sounding rather like a criminal prosecutor.

“What?” Dr. Stiles asked, somewhat weakly.

“Your captor alleges that you had a child with her,” Hilton said, his voice a little louder, like he was speaking to someone hard of hearing. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” Dr. Stiles replied. “Unfortunately yes.”

“Why do you say it is unfortunate?” Hilton asked.

“Kalifa was just my masseuse,” Dr. Stiles replied. “I went to her for a good time, not responsibility. Had enough kids with my wife.”

“So what did you do when you found out that she was pregnant?” Hilton asked. “How did you know it was yours?”
“Al… Al had connections to the parlour, where she worked,” Dr. Stiles replied. “I don’t know what kind. He just had connections. And they told him she hadn’t been servicing anyone else.”

Dr. Stiles had called his brother Al in Cardiff. Mr. Stiles was involved? Meinwen looked at Hilton, but he was fixed on Dr. Stiles.

“So what did you do?” Hilton asked.

“Well, I wasn’t able to get confirmation soon enough as to whether it was mine or not,” Dr. Stiles replied. “Otherwise I would’ve made Kalifa get an abortion, even though she was practically ecstatic about the thing.”

Meinwen recoiled. Thing? But it was a baby! People didn’t even call their pet dogs or cats things!

“So I bought some vitamins,” Dr. Stiles said. “Some adult ones, and some baby ones, and I switched them into each other’s bottles. Al took me to Kalifa’s place and I gave her the baby vitamin bottle.”

“With the adult vitamins in it?” Hilton asked.

“Yeah,” Dr. Stiles replied. “And then I found a new masseuse.”

“Just nonchalantly like that!?” Meinwen cried, too horrified to keep silent. “How could you be such a monster!? That was a life!”

“Considering the way my wife reacted when our daughter told her I’d been gone overnight the entire week she’d been in Florida visiting her mother after her heart attack, that’s a chance I’m glad I didn’t take,” Dr. Stiles replied.

“How did your wife react?” Hilton asked.

“She divorced me, moved back to Florida with the kids,” Dr. Stiles replied. “She didn’t even bother to find out who I’d been sleeping with.”

“You committed murder to avoid a divorce!?” Meinwen asked.

“I didn’t actually do it,” Dr. Stiles replied, seemingly unbothered.

“But you knew it would happen!” Meinwen cried. “You knew it would be the result!”

“But I didn’t do it,” Dr. Stiles replied.

“That doesn’t matter!” Meinwen cried, sobs choking off her ability to say more.

“A court of law would convict you, and I’m sure you know it,” Hilton said, sounding livid. “I am ashamed to have wasted my life on even a microgram of concern for you. I see well and clearly why that woman calls you evil, not that she isn’t too, but you’re just sickening.”