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“Ilya, come on, we’re gonna be late!”
Ottawa sat in the quiet dark of pre-morning. Shane stood in the foyer of their home tapping his foot impatiently. He held two travel mugs, one containing green tea and the other containing coffee with enough cream and sugar to qualify it as a dessert, as far as he was concerned. Ilya finally trudged down the stairs at an annoyingly slow pace, hair disheveled and eyelids still droopy from sleep.
“Shane, sweetheart, what is the rush? The sun has not even risen.”
“Right,” Shane huffed, “its sunrise yoga. We have to be there before sunrise. Its literally in the name, Ilya.”
“Yes, yes.” Ilya mumbled, taking the dessert coffee from Shane before giving him a quick peck on the temple. “We will get you to your sad sunrise yoga.”
The men gave Anya a quick pet, which barely stirred her enough to lift her head from her dog bed, and locked the door behind them.
Two weeks ago, after a routine practice, Harris Drover entered the Centaurs’ locker room. The team was gathering their things to leave, raucously passing jokes and banter between one another.
“Hey guys! I have an announcement!” He yelled. His voice carried enough to turn a few heads, the others following suit as the noise died down slowly.
“Well, its more of an idea than an announcement, I guess” He continued quieter. Harris then began his spiel about an idea he’d come up with that would both boost team cohesiveness and generate social media content. A win-win, he had said.
“Team…bonding day?” Bood asked.
“Yeah! We’ll take turns choosing a player by drawing names out of a hat. Whoever is chosen gets to choose an activity that they would enjoy, and that’s what the itinerary for the outing is.” Harris surveyed the room and became nervous. The expressions looking back at him were a mixture of skeptical and curious. Troy sat quietly, obviously already briefed on this, and no one else seemed convinced this was a good idea. Well, almost no one. Ilya shot back a wide grin and looked utterly excited. Harris decided to use this to his advantage and pulled Ilya into his corner.
“What do you think, Cap?” Harris asked.
“Harris, I love it. We could make this a monthly thing maybe.”
“I don’t know, Cap.” Bood replied, “Hollzy will have us do sprints for two hours and then a vegan restaurant or something.”
“Fuck you, Bood.” Shane replied, laughing. “I’m not even vegan.”
“Yeah Bood. My husband is boring but not sprints and sprouts boring.” Ilya added in a halfhearted attempt to defend Shane. “Open your mind. You might find out you have more in common with your teammates than you think.” He added, tossing a solidary wink at Harris.
“Hmm, maybe you’re right. Cassie’s been trying to get me to try some new hobbies with her. If nothing else, maybe I’ll grab some ideas from you idiots.” Bood relented.
Once their captain and alternate captain were on board, the rest of the team quickly followed suit. Moments later, the team had become a commotion of players talking over one another about activities they could subject each other to. Hayes was going on about a comic book convention coming to Ottawa in a couple of months. Bood had listed some restaurants he wanted to try, pulling Ilya into a debate about the best pizza joints in the city. Harris left them to their chaos, smiling ear to ear. He returned after a few minutes holding a jar containing several scraps of folded paper.
“Okay guys, time to draw the first name!” He yelled.
“Wow, that was fast.” Said Shane.
“I bet that’s not the first time you’ve heard him say that, huh Roz?” Bood joked, earning a chorus of laughs from the team and a right-hook to the shoulder from Ilya.
The laughter died down, and Harris seized the moment to ask, "Ilya, do you want to do the honors?" while pressing the jar to him. Ilya reached his long fingers into the jar and unfolded a scrap of paper. A toothy grin broke out on his face as he cradled the paper in his hand, looking down at it.
"Lay it on us, Cap!" Wyatt exclaimed.
"Centaurs and Gentleman, it is my honor to announce my husband Shane Hollander as the chosen one" Ilya announced, dramatically. All eyes turned to Shane as his face bloomed a light shade of pink. "Um...okay." he said, quietly.
Two weeks later, the couple was in the car on their way to an Ottawa park to meet the rest of the team for a session of Shane-endorsed sunrise yoga. The radio turned low and the sound of the defrost melded into a hum of pleasant background noise which was suddenly interrupted by loud, faux-snoring coming from the man in the passenger seat.
“Fuck off, Ilya, its not that early”. Ilya roused from his fake-slumber with a start.
“Wha- wha? Did you say something Shane? Me and the rest of this hemisphere were still sleeping.” Shane rolled his eyes and turned up the radio.
“You know, if you weren’t up so late playing that damn phone game, you’d probably be fine right now” Shane snapped.
“I couldn’t sleep with you snoring beside of me. I had to do something.”
“I do not snore!”
The couple kept up their playful bickering through the main streets of Ottawa, all the way until Shane turned onto a side road adjacent to the big park. Surprisingly, a few of the team had already made it and were standing huddled together passing yawns between them. Troy and Harris were there, Troy holding a large size Tim Hortons coffee and Harris with his camera. Also in attendance were Luca and Wyatt, both with matching dark circles under their tired eyes. Another man, whom Shane didn’t recognize but assumed was the instructor, stood off to the side. The man was older, his long, salt-and-pepper hair pulled into a low pony tail. He was barefoot despite the bite to the October air. He wore loose fitting sage-green pants that cut at the ankles, and a muted mustard long sleeve top.
Shane and Ilya walked up to join the group and were greeted by most of the boys with groggy head-nods. Luca spoke up.
“Good morning fellas.” He said, in a tone that was likely supposed to be eager, but came out raspy with tiredness.
“Morning, Hass. I apologize on the behalf of my husband.” Ilya replied.
“Shut up. Give it a chance, guys. I know its early but you’ll feel better all day after.” Shane assured.
“I concur. Morning salutations are a great way to balance your aura.” The instructor rattled nasally.
“Morning salu-what?” Ilya said, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.
“Uh, yeah…great for core strength and energy too.” Shane interjected before Ilya could say something rude, accidentally or otherwise.
As the rest of the team shuffled in, Shane took a moment to look around. He hadn’t been to this park since he was a child growing up here, and he’d forgotten how beautiful it was. A large pond sat nestled into the corner. A few early morning waterfowl were bobbing happily on the surface. The space they’d chosen for the activity was in the middle of the park and sat higher than the area around it on a small hill, giving a beautiful vantage point to take in the rich fall colors dotted against the water. The sun had not yet risen, but the light from it had begun to seep over the horizon. Even in the dimness of pre-dawn, Shane could appreciate the beauty of what was around him. He’d hope the team would find time between bitching about lack of sleep to see it as well.
Moments later, the team was settled on their mats, sitting with backs straight and legs crossed, in a somewhat organized fashion. The instructor was facing them on his own mat. Shane and Ilya were up front in the formation, Ilya still pouting because Shane had decidedly not been okay with Ilya setting up behind him. Harris was off to the side, camera at the ready. He had been invited to join them by both the team and the instructor, but politely declined in favor of getting photos from different angles. Troy had asked him a bit desperately if he needed an assistant, but Harris declined, leaving Troy to his fate of stretching muscles he didn’t know he had first thing in the morning.
“Greetings, Centaurs!” The instructor said as the sun crept ever so slowly upward. “My name is Yogi Dave, but you can call me Sun Child.”
“I will most definitely not be doing that.” Ilya snickered under his breath, catching an elbow in the ribs from Shane, who may or may not have been trying to stifle a laugh of his own.
The colorful instructor began by leading the boys through some breathing exercises, prompting them to close their eyes, and breathe deeply from their core. The vibes were only slightly disrupted by the click click click coming from Harris’ camera. A few simple poses later and the team relaxed into a false sense of competency.
The men stood in rows with one knee bent, the other leg stretched behind them, arms lifted to the sky. “Okay friends, this is called Virabhadrasana, or Warrior Pose.” Dave said. Ilya took the moment to peer around his outstretched arm at his husband. His eyes traveled up and down the long lines of Shane’s body and he was filled with a combination of want and appreciation. Shane was a vision, and Ilya couldn’t help but admire every aspect of him, from the determined but peaceful concentration on his face to the sliver of chiseled skin peeking out from where his shirt had rode up slightly. He allowed himself to get lost in the sight of his husband. He couldn’t help but feel fortunate that they had gotten to a place in their relationship where he could gaze at Shane freely, everyday. Unfortunately, however, this proved to be quite the distraction as Yogi Dave’s voice flowed over him, not landing. Shane, and the rest of the men around him, began transitioning to another pose, and Ilya realized a few seconds too late that he’d missed an instruction. He tried to catch up, lifting his back leg and bending forward like Shane was doing. Unlike Shane, who moved into the second Warrior Pose variation quite gracefully, Ilya fell face-first off his mat and into the grass.
The Centaurs howled with laughter as Harris’ camera went click click click.
“Can’t help but fall for him, can you, Cap?” Bood cackled.
“Ilya, are you okay?” Shane asked through a suppressed chuckle. Ilya rolled onto his bottom, his chin slightly tinted green from sliding against the dew-soaked grass.
“Shut up now, or bag skates for all of you!” Ilya hollered, waving a hand wildly, “And Harris, don’t even think about posting those, or it’ll be bag skates for you too.” Harris laughed harder spurred on by Ilya’s empty threat.
“Sorry Ilya, but you aren’t MY captain.” Click click click.
The laughter died down slowly while Yogi Dave waltzed over to Ilya and offered a hand up. Ilya waved him off and hoped up quickly, showing that his ability to stand back up after a hard fall was much more graceful than his yoga poses.
The boys twisted themselves into pose after pose. A light instrumental melody played from Yogi Dave’s phone. It created a good contrast for the grunts and groans coming from the mouths of over a dozen full-grown professional hockey players trying to bend their bodies into shapes they hadn’t been in since they were toddlers. Shane was a collected expert, unsurprisingly. What was surprising though, was how well Hayes was faring in the second row. He was no Shane, but the ease in which he took to the poses was almost natural, and the boys noticed.
Bood looked around from the third row and tipped his chin towards Hayes when he caught the eyes of Dykstra and Troy.
“Damn, Hazy, how are you so good at this?” He said, from his bent-forward position. Ilya and Shane turned around, eyes wide in surprise at the way Hayes was balanced on one leg, his torso tipped forward.
“Uh, I dunno. You’d be surprised at the ways my body warps to stop pucks though. Maybe that’s it?” The men laughed.
“You’re like a yoga assassin” said Troy.
“While I’m glad you’re admiring the talent of your teammate, maybe we find a better word than assassin? Yoga is a peaceful practice, after all.” Yogi Dave piped.
“Oh, umm, okay. A Yoga…super hero?” Troy replied. Hayes turned his head toward him and beamed.
“Okay, I kinda love that.” He replied.
“I know you do, bud.”
The morning faded through more poses and occasional groans and complaints from the Centaurs. Harris caught more than enough chances to take pictures for the team’s social media pages. The men were winding down and were taking deep breaths in Tree Pose when the light began to brighten around them. Across the pond, nestled right on the horizon, the sun finally began to take shape. The light cast over the water and across the faces of the Centaurs was bright golden-orange. Everyone’s heads craned to the side as awe-struck gasps bubbled up from the group.
“Holy shit” exclaimed Bood, followed by a soft “Wow” from Troy. Ilya only looked for a moment before turning his head in the other direction toward Shane. The light reflecting off of his eyes made them look deep and syrupy. The skin beneath his freckles seemed to glow under the early morning light. He was struck again with breathtaking gratitude- for his team, for his life, and for the love and light afforded to him by Shane Hollander.
Eventually, Shane noticed Ilya’s watchful gaze and flicked his eyes over to his husband’s. He smiled shyly as his cheeks flushed with pink.
“Beautiful, huh?” He asked, quietly.
“The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen” Ilya replied.
The session finally concluded. The sun was fully in the sky, warming the air and drying the dew on the grass. Yogi Dave bid a quick goodbye with a dramatic bow and a business card shoved toward Harris. The Centaurs sat in a messy circle sipping from their water bottles and chirping each other about their lackluster yoga skills. Ilya and Shane sat together on Shane’s yoga mat while Harris took a seat next to Troy on his.
“That was actually pretty fun, Hollzy. But whoever goes next, pick an activity that starts after bank hours please.” said Bood.
“Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad. Don’t you feel more prepared to take on the day?” Shane replied.
“You’re starting to sound like him.” quipped Troy, giving Shane a sense of déjà vu that felt like whiplash.
“Who?”
“Sun Child.” Replied Troy, resulting in a chorus of laughs from the team.
A few men remarked again about Hazy’s surprising ability to contort his form into various yoga poses. He blushed and shook his head. “Okay, I’m pretty good. And obviously Hollzy’s the best, but the question remains. Who was the worst?” He asked, eager to move the attention from himself.
Luca spoke up quietly. “Its not a competition, guys. I think we all did-“
“BOOD.” Ilya declared. The rest of the team spoke over one another in agreement.
“Yep, Bood.”
“Definitely Bood.”
“I think Bood.”
“Okay, okay, enough.” Bood said, hands raised defensively. “I can’t help it! My legs just don’t do that. I don’t…bend.”
“Poor Cassie.” said Ilya.
“Shut up, Roz. You were no yoga superhero either.”
“Yes, but I don’t have to bend that way. Usually it’s Shane who does the-“
“Enough!” Shane exclaimed.
The drive home started quietly, a peaceful ambiance settling around Ilya and Shane.
“So…” Shane spoke up. Ilya, who had dozed off in the passenger seat, startled. “Was it as bad as you thought it was?”
“It was torture, Shane. Anya is gonna think her Papa left in the middle of the night and abandoned her.”
“Oh please.” Shane rolled his eyes. “She has a filtered water fountain and a 200 dollar dog bed. Doesn’t sound like abandonment to me. We’ll be home in fifteen minutes, drama queen.”
“Still..”
“Seriously though, Ilya. Was it bad? The team seemed to like it okay.” Ilya saw the uncertainty in Shane’s eyes, even behind the lenses of his sunglasses, and decided to give him a real answer.
“No, Solnyshko. It wasn’t bad. It was actually pretty nice.” Then Ilya, whose ability to leave anything nice rivaled Bood’s Yoga skills, added, “Yogi Dave was hot for old man.” Shane chuckled and rolled his eyes, moving his hand from the steering wheel to give Ilya a playful shove. Another moment of peaceful quiet rolled over before Shane spoke again.
“Would you…would you go again with me sometime? Maybe just the two of us?”
“Absolutely not. I do not need peaceful yoga at five AM. Sleep is peaceful at five AM” Ilya replied.
“You’re such an asshole” Shane retorted with a giggle.
“Let me know if you find a lunchtime Yoga…I will go to that.”