Page 56 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

The boy thinks about that. "My therapist is mean."

Jamie laughs. "No." He shakes his head. "They're stubborn."

"My mom says that too."

"Smart woman."

The boy finally smiles. A real one. The first since entering the room. He slowly holds out the old hockey stick.

"Would you..." His voice grows almost too quiet to hear. "...sign it?"

Jamie takes the stick carefully with his good hand.

No cameras.

No reporters.

No hospital staff rushing in.

Just...a little boy.

Jamie uncaps a marker from the bedside table. He pauses for a second. Thinking.

Then he writes slowly across the white tape.

Keep fighting, Robbie. — Jamie Walker

He hands it back. "There."

The boy reads the words silently. His fingers trace the signature. Then he looks up. "You're my favorite player."

Jamie smiles, the softest smile I’ve ever seen.

"Today..." He taps the little boy's shoulder gently. "...I'm just Jamie."

The little boy nods as though that makes perfect sense.

"Okay."

“And Robbie, after you outgrow your stick, there’s a new one in the corner over there that I’d like you to take for later on. You’re going to grow a lot taller and you’ll need it.” And he signs that one as well.

His mother wipes quickly at the corner of one eye. "Thank you."

Jamie shakes his head. "You don't have to thank me."

"I do."

"No." He smiles. "I got the better end of that deal."

The boy hugs both hockey sticks against his chest. "I think..."

He looks down the hallway toward physical therapy. "...I'm going to walk more today."

Jamie's grin widens. "I think you are too."

The little boy straightens. Turns. And for the first time...walks toward the therapy gym without asking his mother to help him.

Neither Jamie nor Annette speaks until they're gone.