Natural Selection
Jun 8, 2016 18:02:52 GMT -6
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"Mr. God" Benjamin Atreyu, Spencer Adams, and 1 more like this
Post by Mr. Wright on Jun 8, 2016 18:02:52 GMT -6
A Taylor Wright Tale
Chapter 5: Choices
Yea, I took the briefcase. I don’t give a shit if Sanchez is already paying me out the asshole, what am I gonna pass up on a shot at free money. Besides, this whole thing was a test. You’re either with us or against us. I’ve already proven my loyalty to him. I didn’t have anything to hide. So that briefcase full of ten thousand dollars belongs to me. And to anyone else who has the balls to take it.
He drove me home, like he did every other week after Overload, but he didn’t speak much of Lazarus. I assumed that he would have big plans for the event, but as of now I was in the dark. Which was fine, because I needed to get my head back into the game of life. Uncle Carl fucked with my head last week, and I couldn’t find the time to get back to Brooklyn last week to confirm or deny what he had said. But I couldn’t let this week pass doing the same thing.
If Sara needed me I was going to be there for her. It was literally the least I could do, and as a father I’ve been known for doing the least I can do.
I got on the interwebs and googled a plane ticket. It was crazy easy to use. I know all the high tech millennials think ‘what the fuck, man… it’s the internet’ but I grew up on the streets. When I did have a home we barely had enough to eat yet alone a computer. I learned how to read Hagstrom Maps and how to make money the hard way. I don’t take anything away from these young kids that have everything handed to them on a silver platter, because hopefully they’ll do something worthwhile with it, but don’t fucking look down on me because I couldn’t afford to have these things growing up. That’s what pisses me off.
It was set. Tuesday I was gun’ go to JFK and hit up my old hood. I was gun’ visit that bitch that took my kid away from me and see what was up. At the very best nothing would come from his. At the very worst Uncle Carl would be right and I would have a new set of problems on my hands, like I needed any more.
I slept in my lumpy bed and woke up with the same crink in my back that I have been lately. I looked at the new microwave that Sanchez had given me. I didn’t realize how much I needed one as I made myself some instant oatmeal… apple cinnamon- my favorite.
‘Can I get a…’ by Jigga played on my phone… I realized it was the ringer just in time to put down my spoon and grab it. Myr. Sanchez showed on the display. Fuck, I had to get it.
“Yo.” I said to him… probably should have gone a bit more couth but fuck it, I am who I am.
“You know that it’s me, right?” he asked.
“Yea, boss. What’s up?” I wanted to eat my oatmeal before it got cold. This mother fucker always took his sweet ass time getting to the point so I wanted to try and hurry this shit up. I gots shit to do, things to eat.
“I expect a bit more respect when I call than ‘yo.’ I am paying your bills after all.” He didn’t seem happy… but then again, he never did so…
“I’ve never had a boss before. I’ll pick up the slack… what’s up?”
“Are you rushing me?”
“No!” Yes.
“We’re re-opening Hope Hospital tomorrow. I want you to be there.”
“I was actually gonna go to Brooklyn tomorrow to see my daughter…” I started but I could hear the tension in his breath. I stepped back and reevaluated my stance. “But I guess that I could hold off on that and do this instead. It seems much more important.”
“You have a daughter? What’s her name?” He seemed to be feigning interest, just like any good politician would.
“Sara… Sara Walker.”
“Walker?”
“That’s my girls… well, my ex-girl’s name. We ain’t exactly on good terms.” I said too much. He didn’t care and his next words confirmed.
“Tomorrow at noon you can meet me at the hospital. Wear your finest clothes.”
“I don’t have finest clothes.”
“Then I will send you some. What’s your size?”
“Large?” I responded. I had never been fitted for a suit before so I didn’t really know how they went.
“Ugh, I’ll send my tailor over today. Be ready for him in about 20 minutes, if he knows what’s good for him.”
“Alright, boss.” He hung up the phone. I didn’t even say goodbye. Whatever. I had to reschedule my flight. If this thing was at noon maybe I could get a later flight… fuck it. I’ll just go Wednesday. That’ll work fine for me. So I went on the interweb and tried to figure out how to change my flight time. I figured the sooner I could do it the better.
Almost as soon as I changed it the tailor came and made me stand still. He fondled my junk for a while, I guess that’s part of the service and then he told me he would be back in an hour with my new clothes. I felt like an emperor, except I ain’t gonna be naked. And finally I could get to my oatmeal…
Fuccin’ cold.
…
The next day I woke up. The tailor had left me the suit and I gotta say. I looked poppin! If you’ve never had a suit fitted to you before it’s totally worth it. I’ve never looked better. I was probably gonna wear this thing all the time. I was definitely gonna wear it to see my girl tomorrow. I wanna impress her. When she last saw my I had a beard down to here, and my clothes were like a homeless dude’s second pair.
A limo came and picked me up, and as normal the door magically opened. But no one was in the back this time. Usually Sanchez is there with a cigarette in his mouth and a rocks glass in his hand but I guess he just sent this ride to me this time. All good, I could ride in style whenever the situation occurred.
And it struck me how surreal this whole situation had become. I went form literally roaming the streets trying to find a way to make money. I was tricking prostitute into fucking me for free and then tricking drug dealers into giving me half their pay. But that all changed. It all changed with the phone call from this fuccin’ Sanchez dude.
He called me and beckoned me to Chicago. I had been doing some underground fighting in Brooklyn, but hung up my gear after a broken nose left me almost blinded for a month. A month of not having the money maker- which is what I call my face- really left me strapped for cash. Whatever skills I was lacking I made up for in charisma, and, dare I say it, devastatingly good looks. God blessed me with them, and I took advantage of it. The lack of the ability to buy food always left me at least looking fit… like Jesus on the cross abs.
He must have heard of my exploits or something to try and get me. And I wasn’t hard to convince to join his ranks, which also got me thinking… why was it so easy? Am I that easily manipulated into doing things blindly for a man that I hardly know? It seems fucking dumb. I’ve never taken directions from anybody in my whole life, yet this fuccin’ guy comes along and suddenly I’m his goddamn puppet, saying ‘how high,’ instead of ‘you fucking jump.’
What had he done for me other than give me money… like a shit ton of money? Could I really be bought? I looked at this Italian silk suit I wore and the limo I sat in. It sure looked like I could be bought. But how much is my soul worth? At what point to I give up on this guy and go at it on my own. I didn’t sign no contract… he couldn’t MAKE me do anything. And all the money he gave me I could live off of and figure out how to make ends meet.
On second thought, I don’t wanna be under anybody’s thumb in the first place. This shit.. the hospital opening or whatever… that’s it. The last thing. I’m gun’ see my girl tomorrow and maybe or maybe not come back to UCI. I gots to get my priorities straight and ‘dis shit ain’t gun’ fly much longer.
The limo creeped to a halt. The windows were illegally tinted black and I could hardly see outside. The doors opened and I stepped out. Magic fucking doors. The sun was bright and I was lucky that the suit came with a brand new pair of Oakley’s too. I put my shades on and Saw Mayor Sanchez standing about 10 feet away talking to Press. I crept closer and overheard a bit.
“This is an historic moment for the City of Chicago. After the world as we know it ended we were forced to find a way to rebuild. And I knew that a city as strong as this would be able to get back to fighting shape sooner than later and the grand reopening of Hope Hospital will be the first of many initiatives that I put into place to ensure that we all have a better tomorrow.”
He sounded so sure of himself. Some people disliked him, but I couldn’t see why. He seemed to be a truly good guy. What was it about him that made him seem so… untrustworthy. I don’t particularly trust him either, but couldn’t for the life of me figure out why? He finished talking to them and saw me. He smiled and walked past them and came to me. He shook my hand.
“Smile you buffoon.” He said through smiled gritted teeth and I obeyed. It was a photo-op and I was part of it. I mean, I fucking looked good so it made sense that I get on air, but I didn’t know why he wanted me here. He motioned for me to follow him and we made our way to the front of the hospital. He stood on a podium and motioned for me to follow him.
“Stand at attention, smile, and when I say so hand me these.” He passed me an oversized pair of scissors. I held them tightly with both hands and stood as tall as possible. He gave an address to the crowd of what looked like about 100 or so people, many of them not so tasteful looking and then motioned for me to hand him the scissors. I wasn’t going to fuck up one of the only things he asked me to do so I passed them on and he cut the large ribbon placed between two pylons in front of the hospital to a raucous of applause by the audience.
He waved at the crowd and stepped off the podium. He didn’t have to motion for me to follow him. I just did. He walked over to the limo that I arrived in and had me get in first and then followed suit. He sat down, immediately lit a cigarette and grabbed the rock’s glass that was waiting for him.
“Now that’s over with we can get down to business. We need to talk about Lazarus.” He breathed smoke out, and surprisingly blew it away from my face. It seemed our last interaction with it had an effect on him. “I will be having the match of my life as I face off against Andre Jensen in my match while you will be jerking that curtain against another easy target.”
“I don’t know if I would call Julian Mercury an ‘easy target, per se. Don’t get me wrong. His pasty white ass is gonna meet pavement, but I don’t take any challenge lightly.”
“As you shouldn’t. a loss would be very devastating… to you that is. Because the things you receive for doing a good job won’t be coming your way.”
He spoke down to me like I was an ignorant. He talked to me like he knew that I couldn’t do anything about it. I don’t care if he’s the Mayor of Chicago or the fuccin’ POTUS he ain’t gon’ talk to me like that and get away with it.
“Mind your mouth…” He glared at me through his menacing eyes and stopped sipping his Brandy… and he began again when I said “Sir.” I hated that I was intimidated by this mother fucker but I couldn’t deny the fact that I was. He was a tough looking mother fucker and with the advent of this internet I’ve got now I saw some of his matches form the past. He was a tough competitor and I don’t know if I was ready to handle a dude like that. I was out of my league… and I fuccin’ hated it.
“I’ve traveled the world, Taylor. I’ve seen it all and done even more. My plan is to take you with me Taylor. My plan is to make you see the things I’ve seen and do the things I’ve done. You, son, are on the fast track to glory and without me you would be nothing but common street trash. Now, if you will, we’ve got another project tomorrow in Hope Valley…”
I couldn’t hear another word. Another project? I had to see Sara. She fuccin’ needed me… I think. That was the thing. Can I trust the delusional ramblings of an ex-drunk ghost? Probably not, but Sanchez, other than giving me literally a shit ton of money has done nothing else to earn my trust.
“I wanted to go see my daughter tomorrow.” I said, not as bravely as I would have hoped.
“Your daughter will always be there, but this Hope Valley Housing Project is a once in a lifetime opportunity to rebuild this city that was destroyed when the world as we know it ended. This is an opportunity of a lifetime and when opportunity is knocking, you better answer, Mr. Wright, because it may not come knocking again…”
There comes a time in every man’s life when they have to make a decision on whether they choose work or family. I’ve always been selfish. I’ve always chosen drugs and bitches and shit over my daughter. I never felt like she needed me before, but for some reason I truly felt that I was needed and I needed to get to her as soon as possible.
But making the choice to choose your family may ruin your career and what good are you to your family if you don’t have a job. I could send her money. I could give her what she needs without actually being there. Is it selfish to see her?
Moral fucking ambiguity.
“Listen David…Mr. Sanchez…MAYOR Sanchez…” He stared at me as though he knew what I was gonna say. “I’ll be there.”
He smiled that sinister smile that drew thousands into his wake as the limo got to my house. It dropped me off and he told me where to meet him the next day… but it didn’t matter, because I was going to Brooklyn.
A Taylor Wright Tale
Chapter 6: A Matter of Trust
I’m a fucking coward. I took a cab to the airport mad fucking early and went through all that shit. The flight was only gonna take like an hour, but it was much better than the day and a half trip in that stinky greyhound bus. I probably should learn how to drive, but who’s got the time for that shit.
I was gonna lose my shit. I was gonna be in trouble when I got back but as the plane moved across the tarmac, picked up aped and eventually left the ground I realized that I was gonna die. I had never been on a plane before and how the fuck does this 10 ton machine fucking get in the air. It makes no fucking sense. Witch fucking craft.
I watched the shattered remains of Chicago beneath me and for some reason watching the people and buildings get smaller my anxiety eased. It was nothing like how I had imagined it, the once bustling city with business men and women as well as its fair share of Crips and Bloods was now just ruins. It was disturbing how quickly things could change without effective leadership.
Brooklyn wasn’t much better right now. It’s survival of the fittest. You know, like if there was a fire and it burned down all the trees in Africa or some shit, and all that was left were the really fuccin’ tall trees. Well, the only things that could survive on that would be Giraffes, so suddenly Giraffes would be the main species there. And not only that, but Giraffes would now all become taller because only tall trees could be eaten.
Survival of the fittest. But then some other shit can happen which is what happened next. Like in the real world the seedy underground started taking over. Only ones that remained were the ones strong enough to fight it and the ones smart enough to avoid it, and the ones cowardly enough to join it. I was a fuccin’ coward, but I was smart enough to avoid that shit as much as possible. Blend in but not assimilate.
Just like Natural Selection when poachers started harvesting the ivory off the Elephants. Suddenly, only elephants that didn’t have tusks would survive, and now that’s the primary trait of Elephants. They don’t have tusks no more. Of course it’s harder for them to dig and find food and water underground, but they ain’t being killed now, you know. Things change. Things always change…
That is, unless you’re the apex predator. The perfect species… the mother fucking shark, you know. They’ve been the same for fuccin’ thousands of years, and never changed. It’s because their environment and prey haven’t changed too much. Why fix somethin’ that ain’t broken, you know. They’re fuccin perfect- something like 10 layers of teeth. They can swim faster than any other fish. They can kill anything that they touch. Even if people were in the water they’d fuccin kill them
Well that’s me… I’m the mother fucking apex predator. I ain’t no snake in the grass, I’m a fuccin’ shark. I hunt and I kill because I have to. Not because I want to, and nothing can stop me. Not even that fuck Julian Mercury. He thinks he’s had it bad. He thinks that his family life was tough. He ain’t got shit on me.
I grew up on the streets. I didn’t have no mom or sisters sheltering me form the real world, I fuccin LIVED in the real world, ya heard. And nothing fuccin’ stopped me form being the mother fucker I am now. I’m bad ass, and Julian Mercury ain’t nothing but chicken shit. So he was trained to kill, anyone can pull a trigger, anyone can put poison in a man’s drink and watch them die from a distance.
But you’ve never been in a fight with a stray dog, you never had to put that mother down just so you can feed you and yours. You never got into a fight with a man tripping on bath salts who can’t feel no pain. They say there ain’t no things as Zombies, but this guy was trying to fuccin’ bite my arm off. I punched him in the face and broke his nose and he kept coming at me, so hungry, with me being the only thing in sight.
And what did I do… I punched him again. I don’t back down form now fight. But don’t get me wrong. I’m smart. I’m calculated too. I know how to get out of a fight if I need to. Like last week, Austin Miles… he wasn’t shit. He was a stoner with no drive and no determination. So I planted a little bitty with some hot little titties and a face that’s so pretty out there and watched as he tried to pet her kitty.
He failed, just like Mercury will this week at Lazarus. Because this ain’t no game no more. This shit got real. The world as we know it is over, and it’s time to be born again. Like the sealacamp fish that was found after thousands of years being thought extinct, it’s time for us to rise from the ashes. I’m gonna be returning from Brooklyn with my own Lazarus, with my new beginning.
Shit got real for me. I got more important things that busting ass, I got responsibilities and when you fight for something that you believe in you’re more dangerous that anyone could possibly imagine. I ain’t no phoenix but I will rise form the dead and lay waste to those around me. I’m gon’ come back from Brooklyn with a target on my back from the Mayor who I left hangin’ but that ain’t what’s important to me in Chicago.
Nah, in Chicago I want to be the fuccin’ best. I’ma gonna be the best, ya heard. I’m gonna bust skulls and, Julian Mercury, ya lil’ pussbag, if you think I laid waste to Ramblin’ Jimmy no problem, you ain’t seen nothing yet. He ain’t nothing but a little pussy ass bitch, and when he step into the ring with me I’ma gonna show him what a true man fights like.
I don’t hide behind no weapons, I gots all I needs with my fists, Ida Binestock Landau and Jeremy Piven. I got alls I needs with my feet and I gots all I needs with my heart. I got grit, and he ain’t got shit. He got a lot to prove and I know he’s gonna come at me with fire, but I’m coming with ice and water will put out fire any day of the week, son. You can’t overwhelm me cause I ain’t know the meaning… I don’t know the meaning of a lot of words, but I’m learning.
But I don’t gotta learn how to kick ass. It’s a universal language of pain and devastation… of agony and desolation (thank you my word of the day calendar). I’m coming hard this week, I hope you feel me.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, please put your seatbelts on, put up your trays and return your seats to the upright position. Out Pilot is beginning our decent to JKF Airport… welcome to the Big Apple.” That stunning stewardess said with his luscious southern drawl as I obeyed her completely.
I got off the plane, gathered my gear and hailed a cab. It picked me up and brought me to the Red Hook District. It was just as much of a hell-hole as when I left 3 weeks ago. I don’t expect much to change, but still, this was the nicer neighborhood by Moxley Street and Arbor. Funny that they named a street after trees but I ain’t seen one in my life out here that wasn’t in Central Park.
I pulled up to the dilapidated old building where Jenny lived… Jenny was my ex. I went up to the door and fixed my tie on the suit that Sanchez had made me wear yesterday. Last they saw me I was a hobbled old beast with mangy hair and dirty clothes. I didn’t want Sara to see her pops like that again.
II was nervous as fuck. I couldn’t believe my heart was beating so fast. I never experienced anything like it. I had seen her plenty of times but this time was different for some reason. Maybe the fact that I as indeed here to help instead of being forced to be here at Jenny’s request was making me more agitated than I normally was. I brought my hand to the door and hardly made a sound as I knocked.
And I waited what seemed like forever for the door to open. Her mother was there. She was a hot young mama who had her daughter when she was sixteen which makes her about 40 or 41 now. She still has that smokin’ body, but the problem is she’s got those teeth like she’s been smoking crack. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve been more than friendly, if you know what I mean, but it usually took a lot of booze or whatnot from either side.
So I wasn’t terribly surprised when she opened up the door in a bathrobe that barely covered those fat ass titties or cooch and was even less surprised when I got to sneak a peek at those bad boys when she slapped me across the face.
“Good to see ya too,” I said rubbing the side of my face. She looked in bad shape, like worse than usual. I looked in the broken down old apartment and saw lines of beer cans all over the place, along with dirty spoons and empty shells. Shit was dank even for her. And she looked like she had been run through the mill.
“It took ya this long to find out, now didn’t it?” She coughed and I coulda sworn a saw a little blood come flyin’ out.
“Find what out?” I asked.
“That Jenny died. OD’d on heroin.” I was shocked… and I was pissed. Jenny’s mom started to tear up, but it looked like she wasn’t capable of generating moisture any more. Her voice cracked a bit like she was gon’ cry though. “She got caught up with some bad guys… Hell’s Angels or somthin’ and they got her into some bad shit, you know. And one day I came in and she had a rubber tube wrapped around her arm, and a needle comin’ out and she was like… you know… like dead, right?”
That bitch was supposed to be taking care of my daughter. She had done me dirty so many times that I didn’t feel the slightest bit of remorse for that whore. She did me dirty, and worse of all she did Sara dirty by… wait a minute…
“Where’s Sara?” I shouted.
“Who?” If she wasn’t a woman I woulda slapped that bitch across her fractured face. Luckily her mind seemed to snap back into place pretty quick. “Oh… CPS took her. They said that I wasn’t fit to take care of them… fuccin’ government, telling me that I can’t take care of my own granddaughter. They ain’t know nothin’ ‘bout nothin’.”
“They were fucking right, you crackwhore. If I woulda come here and she was living in this hell hole I would have taken her with me. I’m the father… she coulda come with me anyway.”
“You haven’t exactly been around. They wouldn’ta let you take her anyways.”
Bitch was right. Fucking hated it… and her. But it didn’t mean I couldn’t change. I had changed. I came here for her after all. I finally had this chance to be a daddy, and like Sanchez said, Opportunity don’t come knockin’ often. I better answer. I bet I could still get her.
“You know where she at?”
“Government ain’t s’posed to tell me that… but I gots my ways.” She said with a seductive glaze in her eyes.
“Well, what did you find out?” I wasn’t asking her… I was telling her to tell me.
“What’s in it for me?” She asked, slowly moving the bathrobe aside, exposing her breasts a bit more. This bitch was so horny she didn’t even care that I called her a Crack Whore just seconds ago… or maybe she was too cracked out to remember.
“Just fucking tell me.” I was sick of this shit. She came close to me and put her hands on my shoulder of my $500 suit. I could smell the gingivitis form here. She brought her face up to mine making sure to press her breasts, which I’m pretty sure were out of her robe at this point, up against me.
She whispered in my ear.
“Why don’t you give mama a little lick like old times…” And then she licked me ear.
I pushed her down and wiped my shirt and my face… I was probably gonna have to shave to get her stank offa me. I started to walk away when I felt something hit the back of my head. I spun around and saw her standing there, robe wide open and panting with a look of wicked determination on her face.
“Fuck you too.” I said to her.
“The address is in that book.” She pointed at the ground at a ragged old lookin’ phone book. “I got the address from a lonely looking clerk at the CPS office. There ain’t nothing this pussy can’t buy even if you ain’t the one doin it.”
Gross.
“Thanks.” I said, stunned at her generosity.
“Just make sure that the family is taking care of our little girl. She deserves a good home, better than I could ever give her. It looks like you’re doing good. Maybe you can take better care of her than I can after all.”
Humility wasn’t a strong suit of people like us and as she tied her robe back up and closed the door I looked at her solemnly. She was way past gone. Giving her money would only lead to her buying more smack, and she had just lost both her daughter and granddaughter. She needed a support system, but I wasn’t the type of guy to do that. I’m no support system because my answer is drinking and what she needs is to sober up.
Life sometimes hits you in the nuts and when the going gets tough, sometimes the tough get going. People like us, we fight because we have to, not because we want to. People like us don’t want to have to hurt someone, but other people look down on us, think that they’re better than us, and we have to show them that regardless of who the fuck you think you are that we’re fucking people too and we deserve to be respected.
I thought a lot about why I got into wrestling as an Uber Driver named Derrin drove me to the address in the battered book.
“It wasn’t an easy decision to make,” I said to Derrin who had inquired on why I got into it in the first place. “I had to up and leave my home, and even thought on the outside I said it was easy, it wasn’t. I just play this role where I say that I always know what I’m doing, and that I always make the right decisions… well, Wright decisions that is.”
“I didn’t hear a difference?” She reminded me.
“Wright is my last name.”
“Gotcha.”
“This week is a big week for me. The company I work for is doing a big show… like a pay per view, I guess it still is because you can only watch it on YouTube Red…whatever that is.”
“Oh, it’s this awesome you tube app that plays music even when you minimize the screen and has no ads… it’s awesome, totally worth the money.”
People put such pride in useless things, I thought, but didn’t say it.
“Maybe,” I said. “But they got me in the opening match, which some would say is curtain jerking, but if you’ve watched any of the other products out there you’ll know that it’s patently false. The first match of the card has been the best match on the card many times and is because what I am sent out there to do is set the tone for the entire night. So it’s my job to go out there, beat some ass and take some names. And I do it my way.”
“Wow, you must be fighting some big name guy, then, huh?”
“Well… not exactly. Not that you would know any of the names that I mention since you’re out here but I’m facing a guy named Julian Mercury. It’s his first match.”
“Oh,” she said. She was such a sweet heart.
“I know, it kinda goes against that thing I said where I’m opening because I’m so tight, but check this out. Spencer Adams, or probably more likely Benjamin Atreyu… oh them, they’re the owners… John Gable too, but he’s kind of a shut in. Atreyu is the one with the vision and he’s the one that can truly see talent. He’s seen me the past 2 weeks and knew that I’m the man that’s meant to get the shows started. The people either love me or hate me but the most important thing is that they react when I’m out there…”
“Wait… people hate you? You seem like such a nice guy.” She said… such a sweetheart.
“Yea, long story, people think I’m arrogant, but it ain’t arrogance its confidence and I know what I’m good at and it’s this. It’s fighting and competing and then I step into that ring I get that feeling like nothing else gives me. It gives me that adrenaline rush, you know, that feeling where those butterflies that were in your stomach go to your heart and start fluttering there making that thing go like 1000 beats a minute and all that energy surges through your body and makes you stronger and faster than you ever thought imaginable…”
“I want that feeling.”…Such a sweetheart.
“You gotta find that thing that drives you. And I think I found mine. It wasn’t easy, but I’m confident in the choice. I haven’t had much competition yet, but this week I think my opponent is gon’ bring it. So I’m making sure that I’m more ready than I’ve ever been. I’ve been preparing, watching film, and studying his technique. He’s a bit cerebral, which I kinda dig. He doesn’t just go out there and hook a single leg and try to drag me down he’ll wait. He’ll calculate my moves and try to stay a step ahead of me.
He was trained by some of the most evil and despicable dudes in the world, which, like before, I kinda dig. It means that he ain’t afraid to get hurt as much as he ain’t afraid to hurt people, ya feel. He is a big, bad dude, and he’s ready to throw down, but I’ll tell ya something Derrin… I’m more ready. I’m gon’ knock this fool out… knock his teeth down his throat… I’ma make him wish he never left the comfort of that sniper’s nest he created for himself to come down here and fight with the men.
Because at the end of the day, I may be young and brash, but I know what I want to accomplish, and I don’t let things get me down. I grew up with nothing and look at me now. Look at this suit I’m wearing… $500. I’ve never worn anything this expensive in my life, but the choices I’ve made have brought me to where I am and the choices I make from here on out is what is gon’ make me the man that I become.”
“How can you be so sure in your decision making. We’re all human, we’re all destined to be flawful, and that’s life. If you believe in God it’s because of Free Will. If you believe in just life it’s because mistakes make us stronger. What makes you so different?”
She was incredibly eloquent and her Turkish accent brought a certain twang to her voice that left me tingling inside.
“I’m never totally sure of the decisions that I make, but I do know that I have to stand by them no matter what. I have to trust my instinct and go with what I think is best. That’s why I moved to Chicago. I didn’t think that I was needed here. It turns out I was wrong, but this might be the best thing that I’ve ever done. I can take Sara back to Chicago and get her away from this life that did her so wrong.”
“Have you ever walked in the rain?” She asked me.
“I try not to, but of course I have. Haven’t we all?”
“I was walking in the rain just this afternoon. But I was behind some people who didn’t seem to realize it was raining. I walked and thought ‘I should just walk right past these people.’ But then I thought that society dictates that you just go in the line of people that you are walking behind. I hate when people push past me while I’m walking at my preferred speed. My instincts told me to go, but my societal concerns, or my superego, some would say if you’re a Freudian which I totally am, kept me from doing so in order to conform to society’s norms. But I wished I walked faster and got out of the rain because I feel like I’m starting to get a cold now.”
“Gotta trust your instincts.” I said to her like I knew what I was talking about, but I was way outta my league.
“Yea, but what if your instincts are wrong. For example if there are berries in front of you and you’re going hungry you’re going to want to eat them. But there are so many poisonous berries out there that you could easily die from eating them, or get very sick, but let’s bring this analogy to the extreme if you don’t mind. I guess it’s not as easy as saying what’s black and white; fight or flight. Sometimes you have to assess the situation and go against baser desires in order to do what’s right… or Wright as you would say.”
She stopped the car and pulled over and I looked outside at the beautiful 2 story colonial home and slipped her the cash I owed her. I wasn’t totally sure of my next move so I asked her to wait. She was happy to oblige.
I shut the door behind me, and missed those magic doors that opened and closed by themselves. I stepped forward just a bit. She had stopped just far away enough to be nonintrusive, but close enough to where I could see in the backyard. It was a beautiful day here in rural Long Island and a man and a woman played with Sara outside, running, jumping, and yelling with joy.
She was so incredibly happy. I had never seen anything like it before in my life. We had some great times going to amusement parks and movies but I never got to see true joy emanating from her like this. A tear… nay… multiple tears welled up and streamed down my face as a hand touched my shoulder. I put my hand on it and turned expecting to see the beautiful, caring brown eyes of Derrin standing there beside me.
I was shocked to see the black pupils of David Sanchez instead. Fear built up inside of me but there was no malice in his eyes, only concern as he looked on with me towards the happy family playing together.
“That guy… he used to be a wrestler like you. He and his wife there… they had a boy once…but he died. SIDS. They have no idea why, but their son’s life was unceremoniously taken away from them. It’s never fair to lose a loved one, especially a child. No one should have to go through that. They were good people… I knew them once before the world as we knew it came to an end. They came out relatively unscathed and I arranged for this to happen. They were amazing parents to their young son, and will be amazing parents to Sara.”
I looked over at Sanchez and stopped staring at the unknowing family. He spoke with such poise and confidence. He certainly knew he was making the right decision. He continued.
“But it’s up to you. You can go there and reclaim her. There is a 2 week period where a parent can reclaim their child if proven to be capable of child rearing. That two week spans ends tomorrow. That’s why I have been trying to stall you form leaving Chicago. Perhaps it was selfish form me, but I have such great plans for you and I that I feared that you may see your child and choose her over me.
So I planned for this all to happen as soon as I heard about it 2 weeks ago. I figured if the law stopped you from choosing her then you would have no choice but to stay with me. I admit, this entire set up was not completely altruistic on my part, but then again, does altruism truly exist anyway?”
“So… I can have her back?”
“If you so choose.”
I should have been mad that Sanchez manipulated this whole situation, and for all I know he manipulated the ethereal plane and sent my Uncle to me too. But I wasn’t because when I looked at Sara and saw the happy family go inside presumably for dinner I felt surprisingly at ease.
I was a fuck up my entire life. I never have done anything right. Who was I to think that I could come in and be the father she never had, and never needed?
“I…” didn’t know what to say. I looked at the house with the perfectly landscaped yard and the choice became abundantly clear. “I choose to leave her here… she’ll have a better life with them.”
“Do you want to see her?”
“I saw her... she doesn’t need to see me. It will just make things harder for her.”
If Sanchez wasn’t here I would have cried, but instead I took a deep breath in and then released it. Sanchez again put his hand on my shoulder and led me away from the house. He waved at Derrin who waved back at us, and before I could even raise my hand to say goodbye to the mysterious woman she was gone and that awesome, magical door opened up in front of me inviting me into the stretch limo that I had been accustomed to entering lately.
Sanchez opened up his favorite bottle of bourbon and poured a glass for the two of us.
“To Sara.” He said as we clinked glasses.
“To Sara.”
Chapter 5: Choices
Yea, I took the briefcase. I don’t give a shit if Sanchez is already paying me out the asshole, what am I gonna pass up on a shot at free money. Besides, this whole thing was a test. You’re either with us or against us. I’ve already proven my loyalty to him. I didn’t have anything to hide. So that briefcase full of ten thousand dollars belongs to me. And to anyone else who has the balls to take it.
He drove me home, like he did every other week after Overload, but he didn’t speak much of Lazarus. I assumed that he would have big plans for the event, but as of now I was in the dark. Which was fine, because I needed to get my head back into the game of life. Uncle Carl fucked with my head last week, and I couldn’t find the time to get back to Brooklyn last week to confirm or deny what he had said. But I couldn’t let this week pass doing the same thing.
If Sara needed me I was going to be there for her. It was literally the least I could do, and as a father I’ve been known for doing the least I can do.
I got on the interwebs and googled a plane ticket. It was crazy easy to use. I know all the high tech millennials think ‘what the fuck, man… it’s the internet’ but I grew up on the streets. When I did have a home we barely had enough to eat yet alone a computer. I learned how to read Hagstrom Maps and how to make money the hard way. I don’t take anything away from these young kids that have everything handed to them on a silver platter, because hopefully they’ll do something worthwhile with it, but don’t fucking look down on me because I couldn’t afford to have these things growing up. That’s what pisses me off.
It was set. Tuesday I was gun’ go to JFK and hit up my old hood. I was gun’ visit that bitch that took my kid away from me and see what was up. At the very best nothing would come from his. At the very worst Uncle Carl would be right and I would have a new set of problems on my hands, like I needed any more.
I slept in my lumpy bed and woke up with the same crink in my back that I have been lately. I looked at the new microwave that Sanchez had given me. I didn’t realize how much I needed one as I made myself some instant oatmeal… apple cinnamon- my favorite.
‘Can I get a…’ by Jigga played on my phone… I realized it was the ringer just in time to put down my spoon and grab it. Myr. Sanchez showed on the display. Fuck, I had to get it.
“Yo.” I said to him… probably should have gone a bit more couth but fuck it, I am who I am.
“You know that it’s me, right?” he asked.
“Yea, boss. What’s up?” I wanted to eat my oatmeal before it got cold. This mother fucker always took his sweet ass time getting to the point so I wanted to try and hurry this shit up. I gots shit to do, things to eat.
“I expect a bit more respect when I call than ‘yo.’ I am paying your bills after all.” He didn’t seem happy… but then again, he never did so…
“I’ve never had a boss before. I’ll pick up the slack… what’s up?”
“Are you rushing me?”
“No!” Yes.
“We’re re-opening Hope Hospital tomorrow. I want you to be there.”
“I was actually gonna go to Brooklyn tomorrow to see my daughter…” I started but I could hear the tension in his breath. I stepped back and reevaluated my stance. “But I guess that I could hold off on that and do this instead. It seems much more important.”
“You have a daughter? What’s her name?” He seemed to be feigning interest, just like any good politician would.
“Sara… Sara Walker.”
“Walker?”
“That’s my girls… well, my ex-girl’s name. We ain’t exactly on good terms.” I said too much. He didn’t care and his next words confirmed.
“Tomorrow at noon you can meet me at the hospital. Wear your finest clothes.”
“I don’t have finest clothes.”
“Then I will send you some. What’s your size?”
“Large?” I responded. I had never been fitted for a suit before so I didn’t really know how they went.
“Ugh, I’ll send my tailor over today. Be ready for him in about 20 minutes, if he knows what’s good for him.”
“Alright, boss.” He hung up the phone. I didn’t even say goodbye. Whatever. I had to reschedule my flight. If this thing was at noon maybe I could get a later flight… fuck it. I’ll just go Wednesday. That’ll work fine for me. So I went on the interweb and tried to figure out how to change my flight time. I figured the sooner I could do it the better.
Almost as soon as I changed it the tailor came and made me stand still. He fondled my junk for a while, I guess that’s part of the service and then he told me he would be back in an hour with my new clothes. I felt like an emperor, except I ain’t gonna be naked. And finally I could get to my oatmeal…
Fuccin’ cold.
…
The next day I woke up. The tailor had left me the suit and I gotta say. I looked poppin! If you’ve never had a suit fitted to you before it’s totally worth it. I’ve never looked better. I was probably gonna wear this thing all the time. I was definitely gonna wear it to see my girl tomorrow. I wanna impress her. When she last saw my I had a beard down to here, and my clothes were like a homeless dude’s second pair.
A limo came and picked me up, and as normal the door magically opened. But no one was in the back this time. Usually Sanchez is there with a cigarette in his mouth and a rocks glass in his hand but I guess he just sent this ride to me this time. All good, I could ride in style whenever the situation occurred.
And it struck me how surreal this whole situation had become. I went form literally roaming the streets trying to find a way to make money. I was tricking prostitute into fucking me for free and then tricking drug dealers into giving me half their pay. But that all changed. It all changed with the phone call from this fuccin’ Sanchez dude.
He called me and beckoned me to Chicago. I had been doing some underground fighting in Brooklyn, but hung up my gear after a broken nose left me almost blinded for a month. A month of not having the money maker- which is what I call my face- really left me strapped for cash. Whatever skills I was lacking I made up for in charisma, and, dare I say it, devastatingly good looks. God blessed me with them, and I took advantage of it. The lack of the ability to buy food always left me at least looking fit… like Jesus on the cross abs.
He must have heard of my exploits or something to try and get me. And I wasn’t hard to convince to join his ranks, which also got me thinking… why was it so easy? Am I that easily manipulated into doing things blindly for a man that I hardly know? It seems fucking dumb. I’ve never taken directions from anybody in my whole life, yet this fuccin’ guy comes along and suddenly I’m his goddamn puppet, saying ‘how high,’ instead of ‘you fucking jump.’
What had he done for me other than give me money… like a shit ton of money? Could I really be bought? I looked at this Italian silk suit I wore and the limo I sat in. It sure looked like I could be bought. But how much is my soul worth? At what point to I give up on this guy and go at it on my own. I didn’t sign no contract… he couldn’t MAKE me do anything. And all the money he gave me I could live off of and figure out how to make ends meet.
On second thought, I don’t wanna be under anybody’s thumb in the first place. This shit.. the hospital opening or whatever… that’s it. The last thing. I’m gun’ see my girl tomorrow and maybe or maybe not come back to UCI. I gots to get my priorities straight and ‘dis shit ain’t gun’ fly much longer.
The limo creeped to a halt. The windows were illegally tinted black and I could hardly see outside. The doors opened and I stepped out. Magic fucking doors. The sun was bright and I was lucky that the suit came with a brand new pair of Oakley’s too. I put my shades on and Saw Mayor Sanchez standing about 10 feet away talking to Press. I crept closer and overheard a bit.
“This is an historic moment for the City of Chicago. After the world as we know it ended we were forced to find a way to rebuild. And I knew that a city as strong as this would be able to get back to fighting shape sooner than later and the grand reopening of Hope Hospital will be the first of many initiatives that I put into place to ensure that we all have a better tomorrow.”
He sounded so sure of himself. Some people disliked him, but I couldn’t see why. He seemed to be a truly good guy. What was it about him that made him seem so… untrustworthy. I don’t particularly trust him either, but couldn’t for the life of me figure out why? He finished talking to them and saw me. He smiled and walked past them and came to me. He shook my hand.
“Smile you buffoon.” He said through smiled gritted teeth and I obeyed. It was a photo-op and I was part of it. I mean, I fucking looked good so it made sense that I get on air, but I didn’t know why he wanted me here. He motioned for me to follow him and we made our way to the front of the hospital. He stood on a podium and motioned for me to follow him.
“Stand at attention, smile, and when I say so hand me these.” He passed me an oversized pair of scissors. I held them tightly with both hands and stood as tall as possible. He gave an address to the crowd of what looked like about 100 or so people, many of them not so tasteful looking and then motioned for me to hand him the scissors. I wasn’t going to fuck up one of the only things he asked me to do so I passed them on and he cut the large ribbon placed between two pylons in front of the hospital to a raucous of applause by the audience.
He waved at the crowd and stepped off the podium. He didn’t have to motion for me to follow him. I just did. He walked over to the limo that I arrived in and had me get in first and then followed suit. He sat down, immediately lit a cigarette and grabbed the rock’s glass that was waiting for him.
“Now that’s over with we can get down to business. We need to talk about Lazarus.” He breathed smoke out, and surprisingly blew it away from my face. It seemed our last interaction with it had an effect on him. “I will be having the match of my life as I face off against Andre Jensen in my match while you will be jerking that curtain against another easy target.”
“I don’t know if I would call Julian Mercury an ‘easy target, per se. Don’t get me wrong. His pasty white ass is gonna meet pavement, but I don’t take any challenge lightly.”
“As you shouldn’t. a loss would be very devastating… to you that is. Because the things you receive for doing a good job won’t be coming your way.”
He spoke down to me like I was an ignorant. He talked to me like he knew that I couldn’t do anything about it. I don’t care if he’s the Mayor of Chicago or the fuccin’ POTUS he ain’t gon’ talk to me like that and get away with it.
“Mind your mouth…” He glared at me through his menacing eyes and stopped sipping his Brandy… and he began again when I said “Sir.” I hated that I was intimidated by this mother fucker but I couldn’t deny the fact that I was. He was a tough looking mother fucker and with the advent of this internet I’ve got now I saw some of his matches form the past. He was a tough competitor and I don’t know if I was ready to handle a dude like that. I was out of my league… and I fuccin’ hated it.
“I’ve traveled the world, Taylor. I’ve seen it all and done even more. My plan is to take you with me Taylor. My plan is to make you see the things I’ve seen and do the things I’ve done. You, son, are on the fast track to glory and without me you would be nothing but common street trash. Now, if you will, we’ve got another project tomorrow in Hope Valley…”
I couldn’t hear another word. Another project? I had to see Sara. She fuccin’ needed me… I think. That was the thing. Can I trust the delusional ramblings of an ex-drunk ghost? Probably not, but Sanchez, other than giving me literally a shit ton of money has done nothing else to earn my trust.
“I wanted to go see my daughter tomorrow.” I said, not as bravely as I would have hoped.
“Your daughter will always be there, but this Hope Valley Housing Project is a once in a lifetime opportunity to rebuild this city that was destroyed when the world as we know it ended. This is an opportunity of a lifetime and when opportunity is knocking, you better answer, Mr. Wright, because it may not come knocking again…”
There comes a time in every man’s life when they have to make a decision on whether they choose work or family. I’ve always been selfish. I’ve always chosen drugs and bitches and shit over my daughter. I never felt like she needed me before, but for some reason I truly felt that I was needed and I needed to get to her as soon as possible.
But making the choice to choose your family may ruin your career and what good are you to your family if you don’t have a job. I could send her money. I could give her what she needs without actually being there. Is it selfish to see her?
Moral fucking ambiguity.
“Listen David…Mr. Sanchez…MAYOR Sanchez…” He stared at me as though he knew what I was gonna say. “I’ll be there.”
He smiled that sinister smile that drew thousands into his wake as the limo got to my house. It dropped me off and he told me where to meet him the next day… but it didn’t matter, because I was going to Brooklyn.
A Taylor Wright Tale
Chapter 6: A Matter of Trust
I’m a fucking coward. I took a cab to the airport mad fucking early and went through all that shit. The flight was only gonna take like an hour, but it was much better than the day and a half trip in that stinky greyhound bus. I probably should learn how to drive, but who’s got the time for that shit.
I was gonna lose my shit. I was gonna be in trouble when I got back but as the plane moved across the tarmac, picked up aped and eventually left the ground I realized that I was gonna die. I had never been on a plane before and how the fuck does this 10 ton machine fucking get in the air. It makes no fucking sense. Witch fucking craft.
I watched the shattered remains of Chicago beneath me and for some reason watching the people and buildings get smaller my anxiety eased. It was nothing like how I had imagined it, the once bustling city with business men and women as well as its fair share of Crips and Bloods was now just ruins. It was disturbing how quickly things could change without effective leadership.
Brooklyn wasn’t much better right now. It’s survival of the fittest. You know, like if there was a fire and it burned down all the trees in Africa or some shit, and all that was left were the really fuccin’ tall trees. Well, the only things that could survive on that would be Giraffes, so suddenly Giraffes would be the main species there. And not only that, but Giraffes would now all become taller because only tall trees could be eaten.
Survival of the fittest. But then some other shit can happen which is what happened next. Like in the real world the seedy underground started taking over. Only ones that remained were the ones strong enough to fight it and the ones smart enough to avoid it, and the ones cowardly enough to join it. I was a fuccin’ coward, but I was smart enough to avoid that shit as much as possible. Blend in but not assimilate.
Just like Natural Selection when poachers started harvesting the ivory off the Elephants. Suddenly, only elephants that didn’t have tusks would survive, and now that’s the primary trait of Elephants. They don’t have tusks no more. Of course it’s harder for them to dig and find food and water underground, but they ain’t being killed now, you know. Things change. Things always change…
That is, unless you’re the apex predator. The perfect species… the mother fucking shark, you know. They’ve been the same for fuccin’ thousands of years, and never changed. It’s because their environment and prey haven’t changed too much. Why fix somethin’ that ain’t broken, you know. They’re fuccin perfect- something like 10 layers of teeth. They can swim faster than any other fish. They can kill anything that they touch. Even if people were in the water they’d fuccin kill them
Well that’s me… I’m the mother fucking apex predator. I ain’t no snake in the grass, I’m a fuccin’ shark. I hunt and I kill because I have to. Not because I want to, and nothing can stop me. Not even that fuck Julian Mercury. He thinks he’s had it bad. He thinks that his family life was tough. He ain’t got shit on me.
I grew up on the streets. I didn’t have no mom or sisters sheltering me form the real world, I fuccin LIVED in the real world, ya heard. And nothing fuccin’ stopped me form being the mother fucker I am now. I’m bad ass, and Julian Mercury ain’t nothing but chicken shit. So he was trained to kill, anyone can pull a trigger, anyone can put poison in a man’s drink and watch them die from a distance.
But you’ve never been in a fight with a stray dog, you never had to put that mother down just so you can feed you and yours. You never got into a fight with a man tripping on bath salts who can’t feel no pain. They say there ain’t no things as Zombies, but this guy was trying to fuccin’ bite my arm off. I punched him in the face and broke his nose and he kept coming at me, so hungry, with me being the only thing in sight.
And what did I do… I punched him again. I don’t back down form now fight. But don’t get me wrong. I’m smart. I’m calculated too. I know how to get out of a fight if I need to. Like last week, Austin Miles… he wasn’t shit. He was a stoner with no drive and no determination. So I planted a little bitty with some hot little titties and a face that’s so pretty out there and watched as he tried to pet her kitty.
He failed, just like Mercury will this week at Lazarus. Because this ain’t no game no more. This shit got real. The world as we know it is over, and it’s time to be born again. Like the sealacamp fish that was found after thousands of years being thought extinct, it’s time for us to rise from the ashes. I’m gonna be returning from Brooklyn with my own Lazarus, with my new beginning.
Shit got real for me. I got more important things that busting ass, I got responsibilities and when you fight for something that you believe in you’re more dangerous that anyone could possibly imagine. I ain’t no phoenix but I will rise form the dead and lay waste to those around me. I’m gon’ come back from Brooklyn with a target on my back from the Mayor who I left hangin’ but that ain’t what’s important to me in Chicago.
Nah, in Chicago I want to be the fuccin’ best. I’ma gonna be the best, ya heard. I’m gonna bust skulls and, Julian Mercury, ya lil’ pussbag, if you think I laid waste to Ramblin’ Jimmy no problem, you ain’t seen nothing yet. He ain’t nothing but a little pussy ass bitch, and when he step into the ring with me I’ma gonna show him what a true man fights like.
I don’t hide behind no weapons, I gots all I needs with my fists, Ida Binestock Landau and Jeremy Piven. I got alls I needs with my feet and I gots all I needs with my heart. I got grit, and he ain’t got shit. He got a lot to prove and I know he’s gonna come at me with fire, but I’m coming with ice and water will put out fire any day of the week, son. You can’t overwhelm me cause I ain’t know the meaning… I don’t know the meaning of a lot of words, but I’m learning.
But I don’t gotta learn how to kick ass. It’s a universal language of pain and devastation… of agony and desolation (thank you my word of the day calendar). I’m coming hard this week, I hope you feel me.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, please put your seatbelts on, put up your trays and return your seats to the upright position. Out Pilot is beginning our decent to JKF Airport… welcome to the Big Apple.” That stunning stewardess said with his luscious southern drawl as I obeyed her completely.
I got off the plane, gathered my gear and hailed a cab. It picked me up and brought me to the Red Hook District. It was just as much of a hell-hole as when I left 3 weeks ago. I don’t expect much to change, but still, this was the nicer neighborhood by Moxley Street and Arbor. Funny that they named a street after trees but I ain’t seen one in my life out here that wasn’t in Central Park.
I pulled up to the dilapidated old building where Jenny lived… Jenny was my ex. I went up to the door and fixed my tie on the suit that Sanchez had made me wear yesterday. Last they saw me I was a hobbled old beast with mangy hair and dirty clothes. I didn’t want Sara to see her pops like that again.
II was nervous as fuck. I couldn’t believe my heart was beating so fast. I never experienced anything like it. I had seen her plenty of times but this time was different for some reason. Maybe the fact that I as indeed here to help instead of being forced to be here at Jenny’s request was making me more agitated than I normally was. I brought my hand to the door and hardly made a sound as I knocked.
And I waited what seemed like forever for the door to open. Her mother was there. She was a hot young mama who had her daughter when she was sixteen which makes her about 40 or 41 now. She still has that smokin’ body, but the problem is she’s got those teeth like she’s been smoking crack. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve been more than friendly, if you know what I mean, but it usually took a lot of booze or whatnot from either side.
So I wasn’t terribly surprised when she opened up the door in a bathrobe that barely covered those fat ass titties or cooch and was even less surprised when I got to sneak a peek at those bad boys when she slapped me across the face.
“Good to see ya too,” I said rubbing the side of my face. She looked in bad shape, like worse than usual. I looked in the broken down old apartment and saw lines of beer cans all over the place, along with dirty spoons and empty shells. Shit was dank even for her. And she looked like she had been run through the mill.
“It took ya this long to find out, now didn’t it?” She coughed and I coulda sworn a saw a little blood come flyin’ out.
“Find what out?” I asked.
“That Jenny died. OD’d on heroin.” I was shocked… and I was pissed. Jenny’s mom started to tear up, but it looked like she wasn’t capable of generating moisture any more. Her voice cracked a bit like she was gon’ cry though. “She got caught up with some bad guys… Hell’s Angels or somthin’ and they got her into some bad shit, you know. And one day I came in and she had a rubber tube wrapped around her arm, and a needle comin’ out and she was like… you know… like dead, right?”
That bitch was supposed to be taking care of my daughter. She had done me dirty so many times that I didn’t feel the slightest bit of remorse for that whore. She did me dirty, and worse of all she did Sara dirty by… wait a minute…
“Where’s Sara?” I shouted.
“Who?” If she wasn’t a woman I woulda slapped that bitch across her fractured face. Luckily her mind seemed to snap back into place pretty quick. “Oh… CPS took her. They said that I wasn’t fit to take care of them… fuccin’ government, telling me that I can’t take care of my own granddaughter. They ain’t know nothin’ ‘bout nothin’.”
“They were fucking right, you crackwhore. If I woulda come here and she was living in this hell hole I would have taken her with me. I’m the father… she coulda come with me anyway.”
“You haven’t exactly been around. They wouldn’ta let you take her anyways.”
Bitch was right. Fucking hated it… and her. But it didn’t mean I couldn’t change. I had changed. I came here for her after all. I finally had this chance to be a daddy, and like Sanchez said, Opportunity don’t come knockin’ often. I better answer. I bet I could still get her.
“You know where she at?”
“Government ain’t s’posed to tell me that… but I gots my ways.” She said with a seductive glaze in her eyes.
“Well, what did you find out?” I wasn’t asking her… I was telling her to tell me.
“What’s in it for me?” She asked, slowly moving the bathrobe aside, exposing her breasts a bit more. This bitch was so horny she didn’t even care that I called her a Crack Whore just seconds ago… or maybe she was too cracked out to remember.
“Just fucking tell me.” I was sick of this shit. She came close to me and put her hands on my shoulder of my $500 suit. I could smell the gingivitis form here. She brought her face up to mine making sure to press her breasts, which I’m pretty sure were out of her robe at this point, up against me.
She whispered in my ear.
“Why don’t you give mama a little lick like old times…” And then she licked me ear.
I pushed her down and wiped my shirt and my face… I was probably gonna have to shave to get her stank offa me. I started to walk away when I felt something hit the back of my head. I spun around and saw her standing there, robe wide open and panting with a look of wicked determination on her face.
“Fuck you too.” I said to her.
“The address is in that book.” She pointed at the ground at a ragged old lookin’ phone book. “I got the address from a lonely looking clerk at the CPS office. There ain’t nothing this pussy can’t buy even if you ain’t the one doin it.”
Gross.
“Thanks.” I said, stunned at her generosity.
“Just make sure that the family is taking care of our little girl. She deserves a good home, better than I could ever give her. It looks like you’re doing good. Maybe you can take better care of her than I can after all.”
Humility wasn’t a strong suit of people like us and as she tied her robe back up and closed the door I looked at her solemnly. She was way past gone. Giving her money would only lead to her buying more smack, and she had just lost both her daughter and granddaughter. She needed a support system, but I wasn’t the type of guy to do that. I’m no support system because my answer is drinking and what she needs is to sober up.
Life sometimes hits you in the nuts and when the going gets tough, sometimes the tough get going. People like us, we fight because we have to, not because we want to. People like us don’t want to have to hurt someone, but other people look down on us, think that they’re better than us, and we have to show them that regardless of who the fuck you think you are that we’re fucking people too and we deserve to be respected.
I thought a lot about why I got into wrestling as an Uber Driver named Derrin drove me to the address in the battered book.
“It wasn’t an easy decision to make,” I said to Derrin who had inquired on why I got into it in the first place. “I had to up and leave my home, and even thought on the outside I said it was easy, it wasn’t. I just play this role where I say that I always know what I’m doing, and that I always make the right decisions… well, Wright decisions that is.”
“I didn’t hear a difference?” She reminded me.
“Wright is my last name.”
“Gotcha.”
“This week is a big week for me. The company I work for is doing a big show… like a pay per view, I guess it still is because you can only watch it on YouTube Red…whatever that is.”
“Oh, it’s this awesome you tube app that plays music even when you minimize the screen and has no ads… it’s awesome, totally worth the money.”
People put such pride in useless things, I thought, but didn’t say it.
“Maybe,” I said. “But they got me in the opening match, which some would say is curtain jerking, but if you’ve watched any of the other products out there you’ll know that it’s patently false. The first match of the card has been the best match on the card many times and is because what I am sent out there to do is set the tone for the entire night. So it’s my job to go out there, beat some ass and take some names. And I do it my way.”
“Wow, you must be fighting some big name guy, then, huh?”
“Well… not exactly. Not that you would know any of the names that I mention since you’re out here but I’m facing a guy named Julian Mercury. It’s his first match.”
“Oh,” she said. She was such a sweet heart.
“I know, it kinda goes against that thing I said where I’m opening because I’m so tight, but check this out. Spencer Adams, or probably more likely Benjamin Atreyu… oh them, they’re the owners… John Gable too, but he’s kind of a shut in. Atreyu is the one with the vision and he’s the one that can truly see talent. He’s seen me the past 2 weeks and knew that I’m the man that’s meant to get the shows started. The people either love me or hate me but the most important thing is that they react when I’m out there…”
“Wait… people hate you? You seem like such a nice guy.” She said… such a sweetheart.
“Yea, long story, people think I’m arrogant, but it ain’t arrogance its confidence and I know what I’m good at and it’s this. It’s fighting and competing and then I step into that ring I get that feeling like nothing else gives me. It gives me that adrenaline rush, you know, that feeling where those butterflies that were in your stomach go to your heart and start fluttering there making that thing go like 1000 beats a minute and all that energy surges through your body and makes you stronger and faster than you ever thought imaginable…”
“I want that feeling.”…Such a sweetheart.
“You gotta find that thing that drives you. And I think I found mine. It wasn’t easy, but I’m confident in the choice. I haven’t had much competition yet, but this week I think my opponent is gon’ bring it. So I’m making sure that I’m more ready than I’ve ever been. I’ve been preparing, watching film, and studying his technique. He’s a bit cerebral, which I kinda dig. He doesn’t just go out there and hook a single leg and try to drag me down he’ll wait. He’ll calculate my moves and try to stay a step ahead of me.
He was trained by some of the most evil and despicable dudes in the world, which, like before, I kinda dig. It means that he ain’t afraid to get hurt as much as he ain’t afraid to hurt people, ya feel. He is a big, bad dude, and he’s ready to throw down, but I’ll tell ya something Derrin… I’m more ready. I’m gon’ knock this fool out… knock his teeth down his throat… I’ma make him wish he never left the comfort of that sniper’s nest he created for himself to come down here and fight with the men.
Because at the end of the day, I may be young and brash, but I know what I want to accomplish, and I don’t let things get me down. I grew up with nothing and look at me now. Look at this suit I’m wearing… $500. I’ve never worn anything this expensive in my life, but the choices I’ve made have brought me to where I am and the choices I make from here on out is what is gon’ make me the man that I become.”
“How can you be so sure in your decision making. We’re all human, we’re all destined to be flawful, and that’s life. If you believe in God it’s because of Free Will. If you believe in just life it’s because mistakes make us stronger. What makes you so different?”
She was incredibly eloquent and her Turkish accent brought a certain twang to her voice that left me tingling inside.
“I’m never totally sure of the decisions that I make, but I do know that I have to stand by them no matter what. I have to trust my instinct and go with what I think is best. That’s why I moved to Chicago. I didn’t think that I was needed here. It turns out I was wrong, but this might be the best thing that I’ve ever done. I can take Sara back to Chicago and get her away from this life that did her so wrong.”
“Have you ever walked in the rain?” She asked me.
“I try not to, but of course I have. Haven’t we all?”
“I was walking in the rain just this afternoon. But I was behind some people who didn’t seem to realize it was raining. I walked and thought ‘I should just walk right past these people.’ But then I thought that society dictates that you just go in the line of people that you are walking behind. I hate when people push past me while I’m walking at my preferred speed. My instincts told me to go, but my societal concerns, or my superego, some would say if you’re a Freudian which I totally am, kept me from doing so in order to conform to society’s norms. But I wished I walked faster and got out of the rain because I feel like I’m starting to get a cold now.”
“Gotta trust your instincts.” I said to her like I knew what I was talking about, but I was way outta my league.
“Yea, but what if your instincts are wrong. For example if there are berries in front of you and you’re going hungry you’re going to want to eat them. But there are so many poisonous berries out there that you could easily die from eating them, or get very sick, but let’s bring this analogy to the extreme if you don’t mind. I guess it’s not as easy as saying what’s black and white; fight or flight. Sometimes you have to assess the situation and go against baser desires in order to do what’s right… or Wright as you would say.”
She stopped the car and pulled over and I looked outside at the beautiful 2 story colonial home and slipped her the cash I owed her. I wasn’t totally sure of my next move so I asked her to wait. She was happy to oblige.
I shut the door behind me, and missed those magic doors that opened and closed by themselves. I stepped forward just a bit. She had stopped just far away enough to be nonintrusive, but close enough to where I could see in the backyard. It was a beautiful day here in rural Long Island and a man and a woman played with Sara outside, running, jumping, and yelling with joy.
She was so incredibly happy. I had never seen anything like it before in my life. We had some great times going to amusement parks and movies but I never got to see true joy emanating from her like this. A tear… nay… multiple tears welled up and streamed down my face as a hand touched my shoulder. I put my hand on it and turned expecting to see the beautiful, caring brown eyes of Derrin standing there beside me.
I was shocked to see the black pupils of David Sanchez instead. Fear built up inside of me but there was no malice in his eyes, only concern as he looked on with me towards the happy family playing together.
“That guy… he used to be a wrestler like you. He and his wife there… they had a boy once…but he died. SIDS. They have no idea why, but their son’s life was unceremoniously taken away from them. It’s never fair to lose a loved one, especially a child. No one should have to go through that. They were good people… I knew them once before the world as we knew it came to an end. They came out relatively unscathed and I arranged for this to happen. They were amazing parents to their young son, and will be amazing parents to Sara.”
I looked over at Sanchez and stopped staring at the unknowing family. He spoke with such poise and confidence. He certainly knew he was making the right decision. He continued.
“But it’s up to you. You can go there and reclaim her. There is a 2 week period where a parent can reclaim their child if proven to be capable of child rearing. That two week spans ends tomorrow. That’s why I have been trying to stall you form leaving Chicago. Perhaps it was selfish form me, but I have such great plans for you and I that I feared that you may see your child and choose her over me.
So I planned for this all to happen as soon as I heard about it 2 weeks ago. I figured if the law stopped you from choosing her then you would have no choice but to stay with me. I admit, this entire set up was not completely altruistic on my part, but then again, does altruism truly exist anyway?”
“So… I can have her back?”
“If you so choose.”
I should have been mad that Sanchez manipulated this whole situation, and for all I know he manipulated the ethereal plane and sent my Uncle to me too. But I wasn’t because when I looked at Sara and saw the happy family go inside presumably for dinner I felt surprisingly at ease.
I was a fuck up my entire life. I never have done anything right. Who was I to think that I could come in and be the father she never had, and never needed?
“I…” didn’t know what to say. I looked at the house with the perfectly landscaped yard and the choice became abundantly clear. “I choose to leave her here… she’ll have a better life with them.”
“Do you want to see her?”
“I saw her... she doesn’t need to see me. It will just make things harder for her.”
If Sanchez wasn’t here I would have cried, but instead I took a deep breath in and then released it. Sanchez again put his hand on my shoulder and led me away from the house. He waved at Derrin who waved back at us, and before I could even raise my hand to say goodbye to the mysterious woman she was gone and that awesome, magical door opened up in front of me inviting me into the stretch limo that I had been accustomed to entering lately.
Sanchez opened up his favorite bottle of bourbon and poured a glass for the two of us.
“To Sara.” He said as we clinked glasses.
“To Sara.”