Finn, Part 1

Trent

I was just on my way home from work when I realized I needed to get gas. During the afternoon I had started getting a craving for some greasy, cheesy pizza. So as I was driving over to the Marathon gas station, I was on the fence about getting some pizza from there. It would require hours in the gym to get those pounds off again, but sometimes I just need to give in to cravings like this.

I got out of the car at the gas station and immediately recognized Bill and his truck.
“Dr Fletcher!”, he called out.
I waved back.
“Hey Bill, how are you doing? Please call me Trent.”

Only two months ago I had moved to the small town of Mentone, Indiana. The town barely had 1,000 people living in it, if that. I was Mentone’s brand new family doctor, with my own practice. When Dr Patrick Cole retired, the town was looking for a replacement and offered a generous sum of money for doctors in the big cities to relocate.

It definitely hadn’t been an easy choice. I had a good life in Chicago. I liked the idea of living in a city, there was always something to do. But being a doctor there was hard work, I rarely had the energy to do anything in my free time. Friends were starting families and moving to the suburbs. I decided to go for it.

And so far, I had enjoyed most aspects of it. Work was good. I had time to connect to my patients, give everyone the time they needed. And I wasn’t as stressed as I was. The town itself was a little boring, but I was kind of enjoying boring. At least for now. I was realizing that at some point I should be making some friends before I would start to feel lonely.

The people were very friendly. That wasn’t it. Though I was feeling like an outsider. I wasn’t from here and it was clear most people knew each other. And, I was pretty sure I was the only black man to live here right now. I guessed some were surprised when their new doctor looked like me. But not a word was said. Lots of polite smiles, but never anything more. So far.

To be addressed at the gas station by a patient after only two months of working here, it made me happy. Bill was a lively man in his 60s, balding but with a grey beard. He had been in my practice a few times because of his back problems. I asked him about it and he was clearly doing better.

“Hey doc, excited about the hockey game tonight?”
I wasn’t even aware of any hockey game, let alone that it was a big thing around here. Bill must have seen my confusion.
“You gotta come to the Bulldog Saloon and watch with us! Our boy Finn is playing!”
“Your son is on the team?”
“He’s a son of Mentone, if you will! Not my kid, but boy, I wish! He’s on the Columbus Blue Jackets. Whenever they play, there’s a bunch of us who watch in the bar. You gotta join! I’ll introduce you to everybody.”

I smiled. I looked at the sign over the door at the gas station where it showed their cheesy pizza.
“So Bill… does the Bulldog Saloon have pizza?”

Finn

And before I knew it, I was following Bill in his car. In the bar, there was a bunch of people already crowded together. There were signs to support Finn Elkridge all over the place, even a banner with his face on it. He looked kind of sexy. Blond hair, brown eyes, some scruffy facial hair. The team wasn’t specifically mentioned, it was all about Finn.

I met Bill’s friends and they were all very curious about where I was from and how I ended up here. I was 33, and clearly the youngest person in the room. But I was having a pretty good time. The pizza was great.

Hockey wasn’t really my game. But it was easy to get swept up in the excitement of the other people there. Columbus was in the lead, and the place erupted when Finn scored. After two periods they were in the lead 5-4.

At the start of the third period, Finn was on his way to score a second goal. His jersey number 33 easily spotted as he rushed forward. Suddenly out of nowhere an opponent, from the Washington Capitals, appeared on his left with a lot of speed. Finn was pushed into the walls of the ice rink by the charging opponent. Outrage immediately came from every person in the bar.

I kept looking at the screen and was shocked by the speed with which Finn had been catapulted into the boards, his body flopping around on the ice now like a ragdoll. Another opponent who had been right behind Finn couldn’t avoid a collision. When I saw his skates go in the direction of Finn’s spread-out leg, I winced. Finn just wanted to pull his leg in, but the direction of the skates made the leg bend in an unnatural direction. It didn’t look good.

The entire bar was either shouting at the TV screen or talking to each other in disapproval. I watched as after I guessed Finn had shortly become unconscious after being slammed into the wall, he was in pain from the collision with the other opponent. He sat up on the ice, but couldn’t stand. He had to be taken off the ice. The match continued as everyone in the bar seemed angry. With Finn no longer playing, the Washington Capitals scored two more goals in the remaining time and won the game 6-5.

Despite Bill and his friends ending the night grumpy, I’d had a good time. Whenever I would run into one of them now, I would ask about Finn. He was not going to be able to play for quite a while, needing to recover from a concussion and a broken leg. There were no more viewing parties at the Bulldog Saloon unfortunately. When Finn wasn’t playing, the town didn’t care about the rest of the team.

A few months later, I suddenly found the name Finn Elkridge in my list of appointments for the day. Even though I hadn’t thought about him or the match in quite a while, I was now quite excited. He must have been recovering at home with his family.

Finn

“Mr Elkridge?”
He had a nice smile. A wide black T-shirt managed to hide his upper body well, though I still noticed his muscular arms. His thick thighs were easier to spot in his tight black jeans.

He sat next to an older, less fit version of himself, presumably his Dad who drove him. Finn carefully stood up and with one crutch smoothly walked up to me to shake my hand as he introduced himself.
“Call me Finn”, he said.
“Dr Trent Fletcher”, I said, formally.

Finn’s leg had been healing well. He could already put some weight on it though he knew to be careful. He had continued to live in his apartment in Columbus for a while, but at some point he decided to come back here to live with his parents in Mentone. They had been looking after him and driving him to physiotherapy.

He still needed monthly check-ups and he had been referred to me now that he was living here. I advised him to get X-rays at the hospital every few months, but he said that he was also advised just that in the hospital and that the next appointment there would be in a few weeks.

His big smile was contagious, the entire time he sat in my practice, I must have been beaming. His career being on pause, as promising as it has been, must have been devastating. But I couldn’t see any of that while he was here. He seemed cheerful and accepting of his situation.

I couldn’t really do anything else for him, apart from telling him to remain careful even though the healing was going so well. He still had a while to go before he could do anything athletic, so I knew that must have been annoying for him.

I helped him with the door and shook his hand as he left the room. It was then that I noticed it. His big jiggly bubble butt. With every step I was mesmerized even more as that juicy ass went further and further away from me. I had to snap myself out of it.
“Wow”, I whispered out loud.

I kept thinking back to Finn’s butt a few more times that day. On Google I found out I wasn’t the only one to have noticed Finn’s round glutes. There were pictures. Oh, the pictures. I touched myself looking at them. I found out it was pretty common for hockey players to have thick thighs and equally thick asses. Entire blogs and YouTube videos were about big hockey butts. I was starting to get more interested in this sport.

That weekend, I was just making a short trip to the liquor store. I wanted to buy some beers and wine and have a nice evening in front of the TV with some movies. Even though it was just starting to get dark I spotted him immediately, with the slight limp and the blond hair. He didn’t have a crutch on him. It was raining. I was worried. I decided to pull over and offer him a ride.

“Finn, are you OK?”, I asked as I rolled down my window.
“Hey doc!”
He was drinking from a can of beer with one hand, holding the other five of a six-pack in the other.
“Do you need a ride?”
“I don’t know, where you going?”
I chuckled.
“Wherever you want me to go!”

Finn

He paused to think.
“OK awesome!”
He limped around my car and got in. I noticed how his white shorts stuck to his ass and legs, wet as they were. He told me to go straight, without telling me where we were going. We passed the liquor store.

We passed the gas station and we were leaving Mentone.
“Still straight?”
“Yeah.”
Another sip of beer.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see. Only a half hour or so.”

We drove down this long road through the fields as Finn asked me questions. Like most people who lived in Mentone, he wanted to know where I was from and how I ended up here. He seemed interested.
“And, so far so good?”
“So far so good”, I said.
“OK. Surprising.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I would have expected this town to be… not as welcoming as it perhaps is.”

It took me a while, but he was referring to me being black.
“Well, nothing explicitly unwelcoming at least”, I said.
“Good. Take this right.”

It was getting dark and I had no idea of where we were. It felt like we were in the middle of nowhere. But we were having a good conversation and it was fun to be near him. I asked Finn about living in Columbus.
“I’m sure it’s not as exciting as Chicago. But I was happy to leave this town”, he said, pausing for another sip of beer.
“You didn’t like growing up here?”
“It was fine growing up here, but I knew I wouldn’t want to stay here for the rest of my life. The world is so big and there is so much to experience. And in Mentone… there isn’t that much. Go right.”

I nodded. I could see where he was coming from. We were now on a larger road, with lighting.
“So are you annoyed that you’re back here?”
“A little bit. I…”
He looked down.
“I had to get away from the house for a while”, he finally said.

“Is it hard to relate to me choosing to come here?”
He laughed.
“Yeah. A little bit. Left.”

I took the left and we were immediately back among the fields.
“I am so curious as to where you’re taking me, but I like the surprise. I promise I’ll be patient.”
He laughed again.
“Right now we’re in Argos, about halfway.”
That didn’t help me at all, but it added to the mystery.

“Why are we going where we’re going?”, I asked.
“Oh, is this what we’re doing?”, he asked in return. I caught a playful look on his face.
“I mean, am I bringing you to a house? A bar? A club?”
“OK, OK, we can do a guessing game. We’re going here because it will calm me down.”
“A church?”
Finn laughed out loud.
“That would be awesome. Going to church with a six-pack of beer.”
He opened the second can.

“Go on, ask me more”, he encouraged me.
“Is it somewhere you’ve been before?”
“Yes.”
“Somewhere you go regularly?”
“Not these days, but used to, yes.”

With trees on either side of the road, I still had no idea where we were.
“Is it still in the state of Indiana?”
Finn laughed again.
“Yes. In Culver, Indiana.”
I had never heard of Culver and didn’t know what there could be that wasn’t in Mentone.
“Movie theater?”
“No.”

I thought of it just as it appeared on my left.
“Ice rink.”
“Yeah!”

Trent

Finn told me to join him as we walked inside. There was no-one there. We sat on the plastic chairs and watched the empty ice. There was something soothing about it.

He offered me a beer. I declined as I still had to drive back. Finn talked about how his parents had been driving him here day after day when he was a teenager.
“I love them so much for doing this for me. But being cooped up inside with them, is slowly driving me crazy.”
I chuckled.
“I can imagine. I love my parents too, but after a few days, I’m good. Happy to go back to my own place.”

“Don’t you have any old school friends you can visit?”
“I am still in touch with some high school friends but none of them live around here anymore.”
“You must be bored out of your mind.”
“Yeah. I can’t work out, I can’t play hockey…”
“Not much longer though. You’re almost there.”

“I’m glad you moved here though, doc. You seem cool, you’re around my age.”
“Yeah, if you wanna hang out, sure.”
I didn’t want to come across as too excited, but I felt like I was making my first friend in Indiana.
“Awesome, man!”

Finn sat back and opened the third can. He put an arm around me.
“Now this may sound offensive, but in the team they called me a three beer queer. So you better be careful.”
He smiled and took a sip.

I smiled back.

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