When Jack was a child, his world was cold. Winters in Montreal, days spent in the rink, andâ well, and the colors.
When he was very young, Jack would hear his Mama and Papa say things like, âThe red dress brings out the warm tones in your skin,â or, âI like the vibrant colors in this piece.â He never knew what they meant.
When Jack was in elementary school, they told him he was colorblind. As long as his vision was sharp enough to see the puck, he guessed he didnât mind.
When Jack was up late with Kenny one night, he told him about his lack of color.
âSo, do you see any colors?â Kenny asked.
âUm. Everything just looks kind of the same. It all looks⊠cold, I guess.â
Jack shrugged. âMaybe.â
When Jack was up late with Shitty one night, while Shitty was stoned and he was not, he asked if Shits could tell him what colors looked like.
âColors are⊠Fuck. Thereâre a lot of them, for one.â
âTell me about the warm ones. Tell me about⊠red.â
âRed is, like⊠Itâs fuckinâ red, man. Whenever you see it, youâre like, âWoah, redâs here.â Itâs like that, yâknow?â
âFuck, uh, itâs, uhâŠâ
âItâs fine, Shits.â
When Jack met the new frogs, one of them was carrying a pie.
It was warm, and it was vibrant, and it was there, and Jack thought: Red.
He kept seeing it, everywhere. Bittleâs stick, his skates, his gearâ they were always red. His pies were, too, and those tiny shorts he wore while running. His tracks through the house would fade back to cool blue over time, but when he moved in across the hall, the red was always there, across the hall.
When Jack made a tough call that went wrong, he saw red blossoming across the ice, and he learned that red wasnât just heatâ it was also pain.
When Jack watched Bittleâs tracks fade from the cool blue grass on graduation day, he realized that he wouldnât just miss the color, but its source. And, as he followed the tracks across the campus, he learned that, along with pain and heat, red meant love.
When Jack kissed Bittle, his eyes were closed. When he opened them again, he was overwhelmed with color. But he latched onto the red of Bittleâs lips, and the flush in his cheeks.
When Jack saw Bittle with all his colors, Jackâs world was warm.
