Saturday January 4, 2014
The Nest- Master Bedroom
Indianapolis, Indiana
11:54 AM Local Time
“Thank you so much,” Wendy Briese said into the phone. “Just please make sure it’s for Velocity ONLY, okay? Alright. Great, thanks. Bye now.”
Wendy hung up her mobile with a sigh, and tossed the device down on her bed. That hadn’t been a very easy call. Somehow her employee validation code had gotten messed up, and the FFW agent on the phone hadn’t been completely convinced she was actually Wendy Briese. Luckily things had gotten straightened out.
Had it really just been five days since her meeting with Eileen? It must have been, although it felt longer, for how crazy the week had been. Her conversation with the Tsunami had turned away from the subject of Aimee after the drinks had arrived, to far more agreeable topics (save for the utterly painful one of their mutually favorite baseball team- the Cub's- chances). But even though Eileen had been pleasant enough, Wendy could sense that overall underlying melancholy, and even more scary sense of rage in her friend. She sincerely hoped that she wouldn't do anything rash.
Well, nothing she could do about it now, three weeks away from One Night Stand. She'd have time to try and talk Eily's rage into a simmering anger later. Now to break the news to Terrence.
He was outside, playing with Theresa… at least that’s where he had been the last she’d seen him a couple hours ago. Quickly ducking into her closet, she grabbed a sweater, throwing it over her head. She’d probably have to put a coat on, too. It was COLD outside.
To her surprise, as she neared the bottom of the stairs, Theresa came into view, still dressed in her snowsuit and boots. The seven year old was, with considerable effort, lugging a large blue Rubbermaid barrel across the floor towards the front door.
“What are you doing, Theresa?”
At the sound of her mother’s voice the girl jumped a mile, wheeling around, and instinctively placing herself between her mother and the barrel, as if to hide it. “M...mom! What a surprise to see you!”
“In my own house?” Wendy asked, looking down at her daughter skeptically. “What’s in the barrel?”
“Oh, um… nothing. We’re going to use it to make a snow fort! Lots of snow out there! Regina even thinks they’ll cancel school Monday!”
“You’re homeschooled, Theresa. You don’t get snow days.” Wendy reminded her, smiling at the crestfallen look on her daughter’s face. “Although I’m sure we can make it so you can spend SOME of the day playing with your friends. Now, mind if I have a look in that barrel?”
It was clear by the expression on Theresa’s face that the answer was ‘yes’, but she wasn’t about to protest, not with her already suspicious mother standing over her (and especially not with the prospect of getting Monday off from school looming over her). Meekly, she stepped aside, and Wendy took off the lid.
Inside, coiled up like sleeping snakes, lay the family’s collection of garden hoses, placed into storage for the winter. “What on earth we’re you planning to do with these?” Wendy asked, looking over at her daughter.
“Um…” the little girl began, biting her lip, and looking up at her mom guiltily.
Wendy slammed the lid down on the barrel. “Where’s your father?”
Theresa’s eyes went wide, and she buttoned her lip into a pout, slightly shaking her head as if refusing to tell her. Wendy sighed, turning to the front closet and pulling out her heaviest coat. “Alright, let’s go see him.”
Outside, to her surprise, she found almost a dozen children in the yard with snow shovels, scooping snow and placing them into wheelbarrows. They weren’t shovelling the driveway- Wendy had done that herself for a bit of snowed-in cardio, but were rather attacking the plow drifts lining the street. As she strolled out into the yard, one of the children- a girl about Theresa’s age in a pink coat, looked up in alarm, and began screaming at the top of her lungs.
“The wildebeast is out of the pasture! THE WILDEBEAST IS OUT OF THE PASTURE!”
“Jeez, I KNOW, Lily. I’m standing right here.” Theresa snapped, rolling her eyes. “It was the warning phrase,” she informed her mom, who was turning a confused look to her.
“So where’s Terrence?” Wendy asked, looking around the yard. Her husband was nowhere to be seen. SHe looked back over at Theresa. “Where’s your father?”
As if on cue, a large pickup truck came up the icy street, passing the driveway. Wendy shrieked as the car suddenly spun, tires squealing on the ice as the car rotated one hundred eighty degrees. It pulled back in front of the yard, coming to rest against the plow drift. Wendy watched her husband getting out of the car, stretching in a very self-satisfied manner.
“Alright!” He announced to the kids working around him. “Let’s load her back up again! If we hurry, we can get three more runs in before the Colts game starts!
A cheer went up from the workers, who went back to hacking and digging away at the plow drifts. Terrence grinned, and went to grab a shovel of his own, stopping when he noticed his wife. For a second, he paled slightly, then waved, sticking the shovel back in the snow.
“Hey, hon! How you doing?” He called, his frozen breath hanging in the air.
“Great,” Wendy said vacantly, not quite remembering what she had even wanted to talk to her husband about in the first place. Instead, she gestured to the pickup truck. “What… what’s this for?”
“Oh, Porky McFadden lent it to me,” Terrence said, pointing to a house up the street. “He was going to help out too, but he had to drive his mom to dialysis.”
“Help with what?” Wendy asked, not entirely sure she wanted to know the answer.
Terrence chuckled evilly. “The Sickles are still on holiday in Aruba. So I figured to give them a little homecoming present.”
Wendy bristled at even the mention of the Sickles name. She’d never forget for the rest of her life the smug look on their faces right before she went into the College Park principal’s office and found out her daughter had been expelled. “What kind of present?” she said.
“Well, so far, five truckloads worth of snow on their driveway. Hopefully eight by the time we’re done.”
He pointed towards the house on the corner, maybe two hundred yards away. Wendy could see a mound of snow, probably eight feet high, in the middle of the drive. More, smaller mounds were surrounding it, and going up the sidewalk towards the front door, where a final pile was placed. Wendy turned back to her husband, her mouth open. “I’m not sure whether I should be impressed or appalled.”
“Well, it’s actually pretty hard work. Although you’d be amazed at how many kids in this neighborhood are willing to stick it to Clint Sickles,” Terrence said, stepping aside as the girl Theresa had called Lily trudged a wheelbarrow by them. “Well, that and the promise of fifty bucks, apiece” he finished with a grin.
“I see,” Wendy said, not sure exactly how to respond. Remembering her original reason for wanting to talk to her husband, she decided to change the subject. “Hey, I just want you to know. I cancelled yours and Theresa’s backstage passes for Velocity.”
“Wait… what?” Terrence looked surprised. “Because of this?”
“No, not because of this.” Wendy said. “I didn’t even know about this.”
“Then why?” Terrence asked, clearly confused.
Wendy took a deep breath and sighed. “If Aimee Easter is willing to actually PLANT a boyfriend with Eileen so that she could play mind games with her, then it only serves to reason that she might try and do something similar to me. You and Theresa are the closest things in my life… the only things she can use to hurt me. So… better safe than sorry, right?
Terrence grimaced, and for a second, Wendy thought he looked offended. “You know I can take care of myself, right? And Theresa too. Are you that worried about her?”
“Not worried. Just… wary.” Wendy said. “And I know that you can take care of yourself, Terry. But I don’t WANT to be worried about this. I don’t want to be distracted by this. I want to be focused on Aimee in that ring. Not what stunt she’s going to try pulling outside it.”
“Alright,” Terrence said in a resigned tone, gesturing over at Theresa. “She’ll be disappointed to miss out on a good Hawaii trip.”
“Oh GOD, Terry,” Wendy said, surprised, although finally realizing the true source of Terrence’s disappointment. “You honestly think that I’m going to leave you and Theresa here in THIS frozen wasteland? You can come to Hawaii, for crying out loud. I just don’t want you in the arena.”
“Oh.” Terrence said flatly, then shrugged, with a grin. “Good. Because I kind of figured we’d be gone by the time THEY came home,” he finished, nodding towards the Sickles house. “Alibi, you know?”
“That’s… so not how an alibi works,” Wendy muttered. “And thank you for being so understanding about this. This woman’s sick in the head, and I don’t want to give her any opportunities or excuses. I just want to beat her, feed her to Eileen, and be done with her miserable butt.”
“No problem, hon,” Terrence said, squeezing her back. “And don’t worry. You’ll be fine. No one’s ever going to fuck with your family.”
Wendy smiled, nestling in against her husband’s embrace. Suddenly though, she jerked back, looking up at the auto racer. “What’s the garden hoses for?”
“Oh! Yeah…” Terrence said, grimacing. “After we dumped all that snow, I figured we’d hook up the hose and water it down. It’s supposed to be like fifteen below tonight, so that’s going to freeze up like a rock.” He paused, before remembering something. “Don’t worry, I’ll shut the water back off when we’re done so the pipes don’t freeze.”
“Yeah…” Wendy said, looking back over at the Sickle’s house for. “You know, this is pretty twisted, Terry,” she said, although she was struggling to keep a smile from her face. “Although it’s strangely fitting.”
“Yeah. Like I said, no one’s gonna fuck with our family. Get my kid kicked out of school, get frozen out of your house until July.” Terrence finished with a grin. “Fair trade.”
Wendy wasn’t entirely sure she could agree with that, but she smiled broader anyways. Even the White Knight was capable of a little schadenfreude once in a while.
“Well… it does serve them right.”
===================
Thursday January 9, 2014
Waikiki Joe’s Bar & Grill
Honolulu, Hawaii
1:37 PM Local Time
“Hawai’i!”
It’s pretty clear what caused Wendy to choose her promo spot for this week’s match, considering the dazzling azure ocean sprawling behind her, with the world-famous Waikiki Beach nestled in a foreground. Wendy’s sitting under a covered awning, grinning at the camera in a sleveless yellow shirt with floral patterns, and a pair of capri pants. Astute observers would also notice the economy sized jug of SPF 100 sitting nearby.
“I really wish that I had the logistical ability to fly the entire eastern half of North America out here this week. I know what you all are going through back home and I hope you can all find a way to stay safe and warm thanks to this… ‘Polar Vortex’ that’s plunging temperatures across the nation.”
Wendy smiles apologetically.
“But… it really does feel kind of nice to get on a plane surrounded by subzero temperatures and a foot of snow and get off surrounded by palm trees and sunshine and eighty degree weather. It was certainly wonderful timing by Ms. Star and Mr. Kincaid to get a show here this week, in the dead of winter. And I hope that when you all tune in to watch tonight, that some of this at least can warm you all up a little bit too.”
“Of course, I’m not really out here for a vacation. I’m here to wrestle, to ply my craft in front of eleven thousand cheering fans at the Stan Sheriff Center tonight, in the first FFW Main Event of 2014. And it’s all gotten around Twitter, Facebook, the webpages and blogs, on texts and voicemails, and by word of mouth. Set your DVR, break out the Hulu, or otherwise have you butt on the couch Thursday night, because Aimee Easter’s FINALLY cashing in her Pick Your Poison briefcase on Wendy Briese.”
“It’s not something that exactly caught me off guard. Okay, the method she chose to reveal her pick caught me a LITTLE off guard, otherwise I wouldn’t have ended up lying on the stage with her standing over me. But on an overall level, no, I’m not surprised she picked me. Whenever there’s an open contract briefcase like that floating around, and you have the top title in the company, they’re going to take a long hard look at you, whether or not they ultimately pick you. Its the basic nature of the sport to at least THINK about making a run at the top level when you get the chance.”
A small shrug, and a deep breath.
“And so it’s come to pass. I can respect Aimee’s strategy for the case… even if I deplore her methods. Aimee built her base camp on the back of winning her first seven matches. She climbed up that slope with Lightning and the Unity Titles. And then she pushed herself even higher by taking the Evolution Championship. So now that she’s up there… now that there’s only one spot higher up on the mountain for her to climb… now it’s time to use it.”
“Because I don’t need to remind you all the rules of FFW. I’m the FFW Champion, and if Aimee wins, then she gets a title shot, whether or not its me who’s holding that belt coming out of One Night Stand. In one fell swoop, she jumps from the Evolution Division to the FFW Title itself. The plan’s all come together.”
Wendy pauses, her brow furrowing, changing tack for just a second.
“That’s one of the things that just drives everyone nuts about Aimee, isn’t it? The way she acts so smug all the time,and you just KNOW there’s little gears turning over and over up in her brain as she plans to manipulate situation after situation to her advantage. Her whole career has been scheme after scheme, to this point that she’s now only two steps away from having it all.”
“Or maybe this is the point where it all starts to unravel.”
“Because it’s all been just a little TOO easy, hasn’t it? This isn’t a knock on who’s she faced- she’s been up against great wrestlers, like Kate Steele, Jenny Williams, Bounce & Pounce… and of course Eileen herself. But every time she goes up against them, she manages to scheme, or trick, or bamboozle her way to the win, and keep going. Even her one true setback, when Witches Brew took the Unity Championships from her and Lighting, couldn’t faze her. After all,who needs the Unity title when you have a clear path to the Evolution Belt? Especially when you had another scheme, one so brilliantly devious, waiting for the champion there?”
Wendy scoffs.
“Of course I have a problem with it. I have a lot of problems with it, starting with the fact that the road to the FFW Championship isn’t supposed to go that smoothly. It’s to be dangerous, it’s supposed to be rugged, and you’re SUPPOSED to fall at least once on the way up, because that is where you learn to TRULY appreciate this belt. Think on that, and then think about Stacey, who rode an undefeated streak to this title, never stumbling once. She appreciated this title so little that within months of being royally screwed out of it, she happily joined up with the same people who cost her, and never even sniffed it again, and God willing, never will. Compare that to people like Val, Scarlett, me, and yes, even Isabella and Kat, who have TREASURED the FFW Championship, because of the blood, sweat, and tears it took them to get here.”
“And here’s the ironic thing. That easy path… that glide up the mountain was possible due to the very same thing that Aimee claims she didn’t do- she got lucky with a briefcase. Over and over she got lucky with that briefcase, or does anyone care to explain to me how putting dents in it from smashing it into your opponent’s heads without the ref seeing is somehow more valid than opening it up and shoving the contract into someone’s face?”
A disdainful shake of her head.
“No, she's rode that briefcase to the top, just like Jenny Williams tried. The difference is it just took longer. I’m sure there will be SOME sort of justification coming. That’s the one thing Aimee’s REALLY good at, coming up with these justifications for her actions. I suppose she has to… I don’t even see how I could get out of bed in the morning if I was anything like her, so she has to tell herself SOMETHING when she faces herself in the mirror every morning.”
A slight pause.
“That’s kind of sad, when you think about it. Considering this woman is on some violent REVOLUTION! kick about truth and honesty… it makes you wonder just how self-loathing she is deep down inside.”
“Because Aimee’s existence is full of lies. Whenever she gets the ref to look the other way and crack someone with that briefcase, it’s a deception, a lie. Nearly every other word out of her mouth is slandering one person or another on this roster… namely me as far as today is concerned, I’m sure. I’m not sure what all was going on with Amanda Saint when she faced Cody… but I’m pretty sure she was lying to somebody. And this so-called systematic destruction of Eileen Amaro? Professionally, Personally, Physically, as she put it? All stemming from a lie. A giant, disgusting, lowbrow lie.”
For the first time, Wendy’s features begin to show a flicker of anger.
“But, you see, it’s okay if SHE lies, because it’s all for the sake of the REVOLUTION! The Greater Good! The REVOLUTION! that will suck all that problematic entertainment and enjoyment out of pro-wrestling and leave it with nothing but COLD HARD TRUTH… or whatever passes for it in Aimee Easter’s mind.”
“I mean… what’s the end game even supposed to be here? She doesn’t get really specific on that front, does she? Pretty much spewing generic platitudes about ‘no heroes’ and ‘truth’, and yada yada yada, kill Wendy Briese. I mean are we going to have wrestling shows where everyone just sits there quietly because we can’t have heroes? I mean, does anyone else get some vision of a 1984-ish dystopian wrestling arena? How much do you think THAT is going to work?”
Another scoff. Wendy’s almost mocking the idea of this with her tone.
“And that’s the fun thing about Revolutions that no one ever bothers to bring up- the vast majority of them don’t help a whit. I’m not talking about secession movements like what we had in America and Ireland. I’m talking about what Aimee wants, a complete overthrow of the status quo and an insertion of a new order. They. Don’t. Work.
"Think about it. The Russian Revolution. The French Revolution. China and the Cultural Revolution. Iran. Egypt. Korea. Vietnam. Each of those overthrew a ruler- who was admittedly terrible- and replaced them with a new order that was more fanatical and despotic. Things didn’t get better- in most cases they got WORSE. You basically go through a lot of violence and bloodshed to exchange one ruler for an even worse one.”
“So let’s bring something like that to wrestling. A sport people watch voluntarily to enjoy themselves. THAT’S a smart idea.”
Wendy bursts out laughing, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all. She takes a deep breath, and sighs, composing herself.
“So congratulations, Aimee. Congratulations on your great vision that’s would GUT this sport at the height of its popularity. And congratulations on the year you just had. You lied, cheated, and stole your way up that ladder over the past year. You made Jenny, and Kate, and April, and Eileen, and Hayley, Sunny and so many others miserable and smugly rubbed it in their face and I’m sure you’ve felt SO proud of yourself. You got away with it, we can’t undo it, so bravo.”
“But now you’re to the point where things get really tough. Where plans and schemes and strategies unravel in the blink of an eye. Where one little mistake sidelines you for six months with broken vertebrae. And Aimee? You made a huge mistake already.”
A small, yet surprisingly vicious smile.
“You cashed in that briefcase on ME.”
“I said earlier that I was kind of expecting you to cash in this briefcase on me, Aimee, for all the obvious reasons. Well, the truth is, I was also kind of HOPING you would. Because if there’s one woman in this company who can stop you, who can derail you, and start pulling the thread out on your tapestry of lies and deceit… it’s me.”
“And I’ve been doing my homework, Aimee. I’ve been training hard, of course. But that’s not enough where you’re concerned, is it? Because you don’t want to make the match about holds and reversals. That’s not the Aimee Easter style. No, this has to be PSYCHOLOGICAL. We need to have mind games. We need to have multilayered plots. We need to have the evil genius having some poor sucker right where she wants her.”
“I’ve been asking around, Aimee. I’ve been doing some reading, watching some video, trying to get a feel for just how exactly you operate. And through it all, one thing has been more and more clear to me with each additional bit of data that my mind processes-”
Wendy leans forward, the intensity burning in her eyes, and a small, disdainful smile across her face.
“You can’t hurt me.”
“No, Aimee. You. Can’t. Hurt. Me. Because there is NOTHING you can hurt me with. I’m sure by your twisted mind, you see two GLARING vulnerabilities of mine that you can target… but they’re inaccessable to you. I’ve already made sure of that. Outside of that… what can you do to me, Easter, that hasn’t already been attempted? I’ve had people try to break me, both physically and mentally, since my first match twelve years ago, and while a few have come closer than others, none have truly succeeded. I’m still here, and I’m stronger and better than I ever been. So where do you think you will succeed where so many others have failed?”
A slight roll of the eyes.
“And please don’t say that it’s because you’re better than all those previous attempts. Because you’re not. You’re really not. There’s a nice bit of truth for you, Ms. Revolution of Lies. You’re not anywhere NEAR as good, nor as smart, as you think you are. Because you’ve already created your own undoing.”
“Oh no, it’s not me. I’m going to stop you tonight, Aimee. I’m going to make sure your twisted methods don’t get any higher in this company, for certain, but I’m not going to be the one to truly show you how un-bulletproof your position actually is. That’ll be Eileen. That’s the funny thing about conspiring to steal a title off of someone- no one ever accounts for the rematch. And just like I did with Starla, Eily’s going to do with you.”
“Because you can’t hurt her anymore either, Easter. You pushed her into that pit of despair, you DESTROYED her. Mind, body, spirit, career, everything… you deconstructed her into smithereens, so that there’s nothing left but a shell.”
Another scoff, and Wendy grins broadly.
“Except not. You know, before you start thumping your chest and shrieking ‘WENDY BRIESE WILL BE THE NEXT HERO TO DIE!’... maybe you should have made sure you finished the job on the first one?”
A small chuckle.
“You’ve blown your wad, as they say in Vegas. You did the worst possible thing you could possibly do to Eileen, and she is STILL here. Except now she’s angrier than I ever seen her, and it’s pretty much all focused on you. And what can you do now to stop her? You can’t even get yourself disqualified to save your precious ill-gotten gains!”
“See, Aimee? This is where the breakdown happens. This is where the villianous plots start to run out of steam. Because I’m going to beat you tonight. And Eileen is going to beat you at One Night Stand, and then what? What will you be then? An above average wrestler who’s most brilliant plan, her magnum opus terrible, netted her a two month reign with the Evolution Championship. And that’s when all the people you screwed, everyone who you whacked with that briefcase to get up the mountain, they’ll start to catch up with you.”
“Oh yes, Aimee Easter. Things are about to get VERY difficult for you, indeed.”
Another vicious smile, although a small measure of pity in Wendy’s eyes.
“And what are you going to do to stop it? Tommy? Oh, by all means, please, let him try, because I’ll have someone in my corner too, and I’m sure he would love any excuse at ALL to get his hands on your little puppet. So please, give him one. Who else you got? Lightning? No, I’ll be ready for her myself. Another member of this so called REVOLUTION!? Please. I’m curious to see who it’ll be.”
“No, Aimee. You want to avoid the fate that everyone but you knows is looming? Clean. It. Up. You’re going to have to start playing MY game, because I’m not going to let you play yours. You can act as smug and arrogant and ‘intellectual’ as you want, and make all the grandoise speeches about REVOLUTION! to your heart’s content. Get some followers to kneel and cross their heart and say a pledge that doesn’t really mean anything. Pretend to be the generalissimo. Knock yourself out. But the days of you screwing over people to advance in this company are finished. Anything you get from here on out, you’re going to have to earn. The hard way.”
“Because as long as there are villains like you walking around, there will ALWAYS be heroes in wrestling, no matter HOW hard you try to remove them. Women like Sunny Kyoun and Stephanie Dallins, who forged the blueprint on how to get through your smoke and mirrors. Women like Misty Whitmore, who rose above the odds to take the Television Championship away from your partner. And women like Eileen Amaro, who despite everything you’ve thrown at her just Keeps. On. Going."
Wendy leans back, interlocking her fingers and stretching her arms, as if she was preparing to go to a match just that instant.
“And that is the one thing beyond all else you’ve failed to take into account. That your methods, as horrible as they are, can only be temporary. Eventually, sooner or later, they all wear off. But heroes are eternall. They live on forever, because they themselves are connected to the very foundations of idealism that lie within the human soul. You can’t scour that. You can’t remove it. It’s not something staining the human psyche, it’s something ingrained. And that’s why your little REVOLUTION! is doomed to fail. Because there, there’s a place for heroes, no matter how fervently you deny the opposite.”
One final small smile, and the White Knight stands up.
“After all, what would you call someone who puts a stop to it?”
Fade.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
EPISODE 236: Evolution Revolution Love, Part II
Monday December 30, 2013
Salt Rock Grill
Indian Rocks, Florida
12:31 PM Local Time
“It’s good to see you out and about,” Wendy Briese said, looking up smiling at her friend, who had just walked into the restaurant. “We’ve missed you.”
Eileen Amaro returned the smile but it seemed to fade away as quickly as it came. She didn’t look like hell, but she was far from chipper. “Missed you too, Wendy. Good choice to eat.”
“Lyn recommended it,” Wendy said, passing Eileen a menu as the brunette took her seat. “How have you been?”
“Tired of being asked that question, for one,” Eileen snapped before she slumped back in her chair and glanced at the FFW Champion. “I’m sorry. That was impolite. I’ve been... Well. I’ve been better.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Wendy said consolingly, waving her hands. “I’m buying, by the way. No, don’t argue. I called you here, remember?”
“I remember,” The Tsunami nodded with the smallest hint of a smile. “I won’t argue, I promise. I don’t feel like being put in a Banshee just to let you pick up the tab.”
Wendy chuckled briefly, then sobered, looking away for a second, and then sighing, looking directly at Eily. “Look, Eileen. I…” she paused for a second, before plunging in. “I need you to tell me what happened.”
“No,” Eileen simply answered, staring right back at her. Her expression wasn’t anger or shame or even melancholy. It was deadened.
“I know how difficult it was for you,” Wendy said, lowering her voice and leaning across the table. “You have no idea how much I know, but-”
“DIFFICULT DOESN’T BEGIN TO DESCRIBE IT WENDY!” Eileen snapped, her eyes widening in vehement fury. She stared into the redhead’s bright green eyes before she began to slump back into her chair, eyes narrowed to slits. “If you know how difficult it was then why do you possibly want me to talk about it?”
“Because I’ve been there,” Wendy said quietly. “More times than you can imagine.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Ten years ago… I was the World Cruiserweight Champion, and a man named Ronin was after my belt. It started off fairly innocuous at first, a taunt here and there, a staredown in the corrider. But then these… there’s nothing else to call them… ‘love letters’ started appearing in my locker room, the RV.. even once in my hotel room. It culminated one week before I was to defend against him, with me bawling on national television as he played a tape of MY FATHER, sent from prison, giving him ‘permission’ to do anything he wanted.”
Eileen listened to the story intently before she frowned grimly. Her lips finally parted to speak but she gritted down on her teeth. She opened her mouth once more, “What happened next?”
“He hit me with a chair and won… although it kind of got reversed because Pollaski shoved a video camera in the ref’s face and made him watch the ending and disqualify him.” Wendy said, the last half rather quickly. “That created a whole bevy of new problems, too. Ref’s don’t like reversing their decisions. Even if it was the right thing to do.”
“...Should have had Wolf hold a video camera,” She muttered bitterly before Eileen let out a sigh of frustration. “Meaning that it wouldn’t be the last time you dealt with Ronin for quite some time?”
“Actually, I got lucky there, he got hurt before that ever happened.” Wendy said. “But the point I’m trying to make is, you’re not the first person to have a rival go way over the line trying to humiliate them. I once got tied to the ring post, doused in soda, and dry humped by a midget. And I was the company’s champion at the time!”
“...” Eileen stared at her, completely speechless and jaw slack. The waitress broke the silence with a white smile from chipmunk cheek to chipmunk cheek.
“What can I get you guys? How about some drinks to start you off?”
The Tsunami held up the alcoholic drink menu found on the table and pointed down half of the list.
“We’ll both have Diet Cokes,” Wendy said firmly, smiling at the waitress as she walked away.
“I have to do this sober on top of it?” Eileen muttered. When she felt Wendy’s eyes burning on her she grumbled. “Okay. Fine. Where do I start? I...don’t know why I got so desperate to be in a relationship. I think just seeing my exes so happy and enjoying themselves and Caroline’s wedding and even if I was becoming successful in my career, something... Something ate at me. People tweeting about how their relationships make them so happy all the time and I began to get increasingly...Flustered. Then I found out about a speed dating thing and I met Tommy there. Maybe I should have realized it then. He was too perfect but...I had what I wanted. It was a whirlwind romance. Almost like a dream.”
She mumbled it again to herself, frowning. “Like a dream.”
Wendy grimaced. “So Aimee found out you were dating, and got to him to get to you?” she asked.
She shook her head, “No. He was in on it the entire time. I think she either hired him or they were friends before or something scummy like that. So I was dating a lie for months. Every time we laughed, everywhere we went, when we kissed, and when we finally...” Eileen’s face paled and she looked truly ill. Her eyes turned red and began to sting with tears.
“So there you go. I was stupid and I wanted someone to care about me and to go home too and see and do all that dumb romantic crap and I paid for it. Dignity. Title. Heart. All of it.”
“No, you weren’t stupid.” Wendy said, looking Eileen directly in the eye. “We all have needs Eileen. And one of those needs is for someone to love us. Truly love us, and make us feel special. That’s not a weakness, it will NEVER be a weakness, and I sure as heck pity ANYONE so darn miserable they THINK it’s a weakness! But to exploit something like that… that’s pretty sick.”
“Well then Wendy, Aimee is sick and deserves your pity but it doesn’t take away from the fact that she got me.” The Tsunami murmured, wiping her eyes. “She’s doing her best to be the next Isabella.”
“Then she’s failing miserably.” Wendy said firmly. “Isabella… she… it’s tough to explain. For all she’s said and done, outside of the ring, away from all this… she’s actually a decent person. She certainly never would have done anything like this. Aimee… she’s just twisted, and sick… and maybe even evil. If she could get away with killing someone in that ring, and making it look like an accident, I think she would. It’s Rori Mackenzie all over again… except Aimee is a LOT smarter.”
“All Aimee lacks right now is a figurehead in her corner, but I’ll take your word for it. So what are you gonna do? Wendy, if she beats you she’ll lord it over you. What she would do with a shot at the FFW belt and with the Evolution belt still in hand remains to be seen but..” Eileen trailed off, now thoughtful.
“But you hit the nail right on the head.” Wendy whispered back. “If she beats me, she’s got herself an FFW Championship match sooner or later, and the thought of that woman holding this title makes me want to throw up. But it goes beyond that. I know full well what’s ahead of me at One Night Stand, and I know I may not be the champion coming out. That means she’ll target either Val or Scarlett, and I’d rather not wish that on any of them. No… I have to put a stop to it. At Velocity. In Hawaii.”
“Yes, you do but don’t end her career or anything, Wendy. You’re above that.” Eileen said gently with an earnest smile before it quickly turned harsh. “Also because I’m going to.”
Wendy shrugged, looking somewhat uneasy. “Just… don’t do anything YOU will regret, okay? Let Aimee be the one doing all the regretting. But no… I wouldn’t dream of avenging you. Not when you are in full position to do it yourself.”
“Thank you,” Eileen offered, seeming to ignore the sentiment about doing anything she’d regret. “Shame about the match with Wendigo though. Would have been nice for FFW to brag about that for all of the year.”
“It’s unfortunate. But hopefully we can get together and get a rematch set up. But don’t worry about fed pride- FFW has the upper hand now anyways,” she winked. “After all, WE didn’t just lose Lyn Dallins to retirement.”
“...I just imagined Lyn in a dress for some reason,” Eileen mused with a smile. “I guess it isn’t so bad then.”
“But do you see why I needed to talk to you?” Wendy asked, smiling back, but returning to the subject. “I need to know what I’m up against. I had an idea, but I had to know just how far she went.”
As the waitress finally returned with a pair of Diet Cokes and they noted for her to give them more time, Eileen took a sip. “I do but Wendy I don’t know what I could tell you to expect. Sure you know what you’re up against now, right? Now though its a question of how or what will she even try to do to you.”
Wendy paused for a second, shrugging. “You may find this weird but talking to you has made me less concerned about it. Aimee Easter simply goes after what she feels are our weaknesses, right?”
The brunette slowly nodded, eyebrows raised. “Right.”
“So…” Wendy said, smiling almost evilly as she sipped her Diet Coke through a straw. “I guess my best option is to take those ‘weaknesses’ out myself.”
Salt Rock Grill
Indian Rocks, Florida
12:31 PM Local Time
“It’s good to see you out and about,” Wendy Briese said, looking up smiling at her friend, who had just walked into the restaurant. “We’ve missed you.”
Eileen Amaro returned the smile but it seemed to fade away as quickly as it came. She didn’t look like hell, but she was far from chipper. “Missed you too, Wendy. Good choice to eat.”
“Lyn recommended it,” Wendy said, passing Eileen a menu as the brunette took her seat. “How have you been?”
“Tired of being asked that question, for one,” Eileen snapped before she slumped back in her chair and glanced at the FFW Champion. “I’m sorry. That was impolite. I’ve been... Well. I’ve been better.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Wendy said consolingly, waving her hands. “I’m buying, by the way. No, don’t argue. I called you here, remember?”
“I remember,” The Tsunami nodded with the smallest hint of a smile. “I won’t argue, I promise. I don’t feel like being put in a Banshee just to let you pick up the tab.”
Wendy chuckled briefly, then sobered, looking away for a second, and then sighing, looking directly at Eily. “Look, Eileen. I…” she paused for a second, before plunging in. “I need you to tell me what happened.”
“No,” Eileen simply answered, staring right back at her. Her expression wasn’t anger or shame or even melancholy. It was deadened.
“I know how difficult it was for you,” Wendy said, lowering her voice and leaning across the table. “You have no idea how much I know, but-”
“DIFFICULT DOESN’T BEGIN TO DESCRIBE IT WENDY!” Eileen snapped, her eyes widening in vehement fury. She stared into the redhead’s bright green eyes before she began to slump back into her chair, eyes narrowed to slits. “If you know how difficult it was then why do you possibly want me to talk about it?”
“Because I’ve been there,” Wendy said quietly. “More times than you can imagine.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Ten years ago… I was the World Cruiserweight Champion, and a man named Ronin was after my belt. It started off fairly innocuous at first, a taunt here and there, a staredown in the corrider. But then these… there’s nothing else to call them… ‘love letters’ started appearing in my locker room, the RV.. even once in my hotel room. It culminated one week before I was to defend against him, with me bawling on national television as he played a tape of MY FATHER, sent from prison, giving him ‘permission’ to do anything he wanted.”
Eileen listened to the story intently before she frowned grimly. Her lips finally parted to speak but she gritted down on her teeth. She opened her mouth once more, “What happened next?”
“He hit me with a chair and won… although it kind of got reversed because Pollaski shoved a video camera in the ref’s face and made him watch the ending and disqualify him.” Wendy said, the last half rather quickly. “That created a whole bevy of new problems, too. Ref’s don’t like reversing their decisions. Even if it was the right thing to do.”
“...Should have had Wolf hold a video camera,” She muttered bitterly before Eileen let out a sigh of frustration. “Meaning that it wouldn’t be the last time you dealt with Ronin for quite some time?”
“Actually, I got lucky there, he got hurt before that ever happened.” Wendy said. “But the point I’m trying to make is, you’re not the first person to have a rival go way over the line trying to humiliate them. I once got tied to the ring post, doused in soda, and dry humped by a midget. And I was the company’s champion at the time!”
“...” Eileen stared at her, completely speechless and jaw slack. The waitress broke the silence with a white smile from chipmunk cheek to chipmunk cheek.
“What can I get you guys? How about some drinks to start you off?”
The Tsunami held up the alcoholic drink menu found on the table and pointed down half of the list.
“We’ll both have Diet Cokes,” Wendy said firmly, smiling at the waitress as she walked away.
“I have to do this sober on top of it?” Eileen muttered. When she felt Wendy’s eyes burning on her she grumbled. “Okay. Fine. Where do I start? I...don’t know why I got so desperate to be in a relationship. I think just seeing my exes so happy and enjoying themselves and Caroline’s wedding and even if I was becoming successful in my career, something... Something ate at me. People tweeting about how their relationships make them so happy all the time and I began to get increasingly...Flustered. Then I found out about a speed dating thing and I met Tommy there. Maybe I should have realized it then. He was too perfect but...I had what I wanted. It was a whirlwind romance. Almost like a dream.”
She mumbled it again to herself, frowning. “Like a dream.”
Wendy grimaced. “So Aimee found out you were dating, and got to him to get to you?” she asked.
She shook her head, “No. He was in on it the entire time. I think she either hired him or they were friends before or something scummy like that. So I was dating a lie for months. Every time we laughed, everywhere we went, when we kissed, and when we finally...” Eileen’s face paled and she looked truly ill. Her eyes turned red and began to sting with tears.
“So there you go. I was stupid and I wanted someone to care about me and to go home too and see and do all that dumb romantic crap and I paid for it. Dignity. Title. Heart. All of it.”
“No, you weren’t stupid.” Wendy said, looking Eileen directly in the eye. “We all have needs Eileen. And one of those needs is for someone to love us. Truly love us, and make us feel special. That’s not a weakness, it will NEVER be a weakness, and I sure as heck pity ANYONE so darn miserable they THINK it’s a weakness! But to exploit something like that… that’s pretty sick.”
“Well then Wendy, Aimee is sick and deserves your pity but it doesn’t take away from the fact that she got me.” The Tsunami murmured, wiping her eyes. “She’s doing her best to be the next Isabella.”
“Then she’s failing miserably.” Wendy said firmly. “Isabella… she… it’s tough to explain. For all she’s said and done, outside of the ring, away from all this… she’s actually a decent person. She certainly never would have done anything like this. Aimee… she’s just twisted, and sick… and maybe even evil. If she could get away with killing someone in that ring, and making it look like an accident, I think she would. It’s Rori Mackenzie all over again… except Aimee is a LOT smarter.”
“All Aimee lacks right now is a figurehead in her corner, but I’ll take your word for it. So what are you gonna do? Wendy, if she beats you she’ll lord it over you. What she would do with a shot at the FFW belt and with the Evolution belt still in hand remains to be seen but..” Eileen trailed off, now thoughtful.
“But you hit the nail right on the head.” Wendy whispered back. “If she beats me, she’s got herself an FFW Championship match sooner or later, and the thought of that woman holding this title makes me want to throw up. But it goes beyond that. I know full well what’s ahead of me at One Night Stand, and I know I may not be the champion coming out. That means she’ll target either Val or Scarlett, and I’d rather not wish that on any of them. No… I have to put a stop to it. At Velocity. In Hawaii.”
“Yes, you do but don’t end her career or anything, Wendy. You’re above that.” Eileen said gently with an earnest smile before it quickly turned harsh. “Also because I’m going to.”
Wendy shrugged, looking somewhat uneasy. “Just… don’t do anything YOU will regret, okay? Let Aimee be the one doing all the regretting. But no… I wouldn’t dream of avenging you. Not when you are in full position to do it yourself.”
“Thank you,” Eileen offered, seeming to ignore the sentiment about doing anything she’d regret. “Shame about the match with Wendigo though. Would have been nice for FFW to brag about that for all of the year.”
“It’s unfortunate. But hopefully we can get together and get a rematch set up. But don’t worry about fed pride- FFW has the upper hand now anyways,” she winked. “After all, WE didn’t just lose Lyn Dallins to retirement.”
“...I just imagined Lyn in a dress for some reason,” Eileen mused with a smile. “I guess it isn’t so bad then.”
“But do you see why I needed to talk to you?” Wendy asked, smiling back, but returning to the subject. “I need to know what I’m up against. I had an idea, but I had to know just how far she went.”
As the waitress finally returned with a pair of Diet Cokes and they noted for her to give them more time, Eileen took a sip. “I do but Wendy I don’t know what I could tell you to expect. Sure you know what you’re up against now, right? Now though its a question of how or what will she even try to do to you.”
Wendy paused for a second, shrugging. “You may find this weird but talking to you has made me less concerned about it. Aimee Easter simply goes after what she feels are our weaknesses, right?”
The brunette slowly nodded, eyebrows raised. “Right.”
“So…” Wendy said, smiling almost evilly as she sipped her Diet Coke through a straw. “I guess my best option is to take those ‘weaknesses’ out myself.”
EPISODE 235: Evolution Revolution Love, Part I
From the private journal of Wendy Briese
12-15-13
They say that when you’re a champion, you always need to be looking over your shoulder. That you have a target on your back, to be prepared to deal with someone- anyone looking to get the upper hand on you, no matter how unscrupulous the methods. To be a champion in this industry, you need to have constant vigilance, and thick skin, both physically and mentally.
Tonight, I got that full in the face- to a jarring level.
One Night Stand has gone from extremely difficult to insane, with the addition of Valerie Lamb to the main event. It’s not a complaint- it’s only fair that Val get another shot at the belt after what happened. But that still means I’m defending against two former champions- perhaps the two best wrestlers in the company, period, at once. If I walk out of One Night Stand with the title… I’ll have earned it for certain!
But it goes beyond that. It even goes beyond Sophie Richards being drawn as my Byte This opponent. I have Camilla Pazzini suddenly acting like I’m the worst person in the history of the company. I have Mika Demidov somehow offended because I wanted so badly a match against Scarlett. And now I have Aimee Easter finally cashing in her poison, with the bonus of wanting to use me as some sort of an example for a “revolution.”
So yeah, 2014 is going to be pretty busy with that line.
At least the pressure’s off somewhat until the New Year. It’s hard to feel THAT sorry for yourself when you’re about to face another champion, once who’s gone through far worse than you have. But Wendigo’s a respectful opponent, and with Legendary gone from ringside, it should just be a fun, challenging exhibition match between two great wrestlers. Its nice to have one of those once in a while, and not worry about titles or grudges. Just a chance to turn wrestling into the pure art form it has the potential to be.
But once the New Year hits, the Pressure’s back on. Aimee Easter first, and then onto One Night Stand, and then Byte This. A regular Tour De Force.
No one ever said being a champion was easy, after all!
-Wendy
============================
Sunday December 29, 2013
Tampa Bay Times Forum- In Ring
Tampa, Florida
10:41 PM Local Time
“UNGH!” Wendy Briese grunted as her upper back slammed into the mat, the ring shaking with the force of the impact. That was… what… the THIRD time Wendigo had slammed her like that in a row?
Her vision slightly swimming, she saw her ring boots suspended in the air above her, her body folded up like a matchbook. Wendigo must have bridged the move into a pin, a smart idea really… although… oh crap...
“NO!” Wendy suddenly snapped to, jerking her arm towards the ropes on instinct, grabbing the lower rope just before she heard a hand pound the mat. The crowd erupted, then groaned, as Wendigo released her. There was no bell sound… at least she didn’t THINK she heard a bell…
She could hear voices nearby, muffled by the cheering of the crowd. Wendigo and the referee? Was he arguing? If so, that gave her time… she needed to clear her head. Rhythmic breathing… pain management… she could do this.
Mercifully, no attack came. His mistake, Wendy thought with the barest flicker of a smile. The match had been going badly against her, ever since he had countered that cobra clutch into a stunner. It had taken Wendy five minutes before she could even open her mouth, and by then, Wendigo had done quite the number on her.
But now was her chance. Wendigo’s attack had stalled, for whatever reason. She was regaining her wits and her strength, and he wasn’t doing anything to stop her. She could get it turned around right here. For good.
But first she needed to get off this canvas.
Slowly, painfully, Wendy struggled to her knees, wincing as pain shot up her leg from that modified TTFO. She’d have to ask Markus about that submission after that match… it was one she didn’t mind learning. She could never know too many holds, after all!
Suddenly, she froze, goosepumps prickling her skin. Something was wrong. The buzzing of the crowd- it was too expectant. They were expecting something big to happen- Wendigo hadn’t broken off his attack- he was setting her up for the finish. She glanced at the corner in front of her, which was empty. Wendigo had to be behind her. Waiting… ready to pounce like a polar bear.
A smile slowly came to her lips. Well two could play that game. If he came in low, she could trip him, and lock hiim in the Banshee. If he came in high enough, maybe a reversal into a Vortexinator. But she had to time it perfectly. Too quick, and she’d miss her chance. Too slow, and the match was over.
She heard no footsteps behind her, no pounding of feet. He was waiting for her to turn around. She slumped forward, bending over slightly, as if fatigued from the climb to her feet. Alright, Champ. One…. two…
THREE!
Wendy whirled, bracing for the attack, but it never came. Wendigo was already down, slumped in the corner, having been done in by the briefcase that had just smashed on his head. And holding the briefcase, standing on the apron was…
“EASTER!” Wendy howled, dimly hearing the bell ringing somewhere off in the distance. Aimee was kissing the briefcase, mocking her as she leapt down from the apron. Wendy stormed across the ring, ready to climb out and go after the Evolution Champion herself. But she paused as a blur stormed into the ringside area, swinging away at Easter, the crowd erupting in cheers.
“Eileen,” Wendy whispered, surprised at seeing the Tsunami in person right in front of her. Even more surprising- and slightly disconcerting, was the rage on Eileen’s face. She wasn’t just out to drive Aimee off- she was going to hurt her. Even now, she had her in a Thesz press… firing shot after shot onto the woman who had done all she could to ruin her life.
And all Wendy did was stand there transfixed, staring down as security tried to separate the brawling women. The adrenaline was coursing out of her, her strength going with it. She stepped back from the rope, looking helplessly over at Angela Rocca, who shrugged apologetically. The match was over, and even if she’d been too focused on Easter to overhear Youle announcing the result, she had no doubt in her mind what it was.
Great, two matches against SVW talent, two disqualification losses. At least this one was a TEENSY more legitimate than Starla tossing her for bumping into her when she faced Moxie. She glanced up the ramp, just in time to see a fleeing Aimee disappear behind the curtain, Eileen in hot pursuit. She then glanced over at Markus. He was shakily getting to his feet.
“I’m sorry!” she yelled, trying to get her voice to carry over the crowd. “I didn’t mean to… I mean… I didn’t think anyone would… well… congrats.” She couldn’t hear Markus’ reply over the crowd, but the tone sounded agreeable enough, and he was offering a handshake. Without reservation, Wendy took it, and he raised her arm up, the crowd around cheering the two champions. Wendy smiled shakily, squinting at the massive array of flashbulbs washing over here. Well, at least the night ended somewhat-
Wendy gasped as the lights flickered, and some heavy metal song began to play… Rebecka Hate’s song. She looked up at the entrance ramp. Christian Kane was already out, and Hate was stepping out to join him. In her arms was another briefcase.
“NOW?!” Wendy exclaimed, looking over at Wendigo, aghast. But the Yukon native didn’t seem to hear her. He was staring up the ramp at Hate, the barest flicker of a smile on his face.
In a rush, Wendy came to truly appreciate Markus’ predictament. Sure, she’d had a briefcase cashed in on her, but she at least had nearly a month’s advance warning, not to mention it was non-title. If Becka Hate was about to do what she thought Becka Hate was about to do, he’d be defending on zero notice, and already weakened. And yet, he seemed to be welcoming it.
As for her… she’d never felt more tired in her life. Or more like a third wheel.
“Good luck,” she whispered, slinking away to the side of the ring, even as Becka began to climb in. She rolled out, slinking quietly away from ringside as the crowd noise began in anticipation of a second, far more impactful main event.
Most of the crowd’s attention was on the confrontation in the ring, but a few die-hard FFW fans were cheering her as she walked to the back, some even extending their hands out, hoping for a high five. She ignored them, her gaze squarely transfixed on that curtain. She just wanted to get back there, and get out of the limelight for a bit. Plenty of time for that later.
Youle was announcing the title match as she reached the top of the ramp, and the explosion of crowd noise helped push her backstage. She pushed through the staging area, down a corrider, stopping by a row of production boxes. She hopped up on one, taking a seat, and leaning back against the wall, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.
“So, have fun out there?” a voice spoke up behind her, and Wendy looked over to the grinning face of her manager. Pollaski was still wearing the South Florida football jersey he had competed in, and by the smell of it, hadn’t showered yet either.
“I did,” she replied, wrinkling her nose slightly. “At least until You-Know-Who decided to go and wreck everything.”
“You-know-who? What, is Aimee Lord Voldemort?” Pollaski said, cackling. “Nah, they’re both ugly, but Aimee’s face is WAY more lumpier. Like she had marshmallow injections.”
Wendy didn’t smile. Instead she glanced over at her manager. “Did you think she was going to do that?”
“Nope,” Pollaski said, his tone turning more serious. “If I had, I’d have stayed out there, instead of coming back here.” He paused. “I guess we should have.”
“No kidding,” Wendy sighed hopping down from the crate, and turning to head back to the locker room. “That’s the second match in a row I’ve had ruined by someone.” she said, glaring at her manager. “I don’t want any surprises on the Ninth, Daniel.”
“If you’re talking about Scarborough Fair signing, I can totally…”
“I’m talking about keeping the dang ring clear!” Wendy snapped, glaring at her manager, although her tone softened. “She’s got that Tommy idiot following her now, and of course Lightning. Keep them away. Do what I pay you to do, and make sure it stays one on one! I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Yeah, I think I can do that,” Pollaski said, cracking his knuckles with a slight grin. It faded under another withering glare from his client. “You look worried.”
“I am,” Wendy confessed. “Maybe it’s all a ruse, but the way that woman acts, like she’s got this huge master plan she’s putting into action, that no one’s been able to stop yet.”
“And you’re the next objective,” Pollaski commented. “Which means you could be the one to derail the entire thing. Wouldn’t that be hilarious?”
Again, Wendy didn’t laugh, but instead sighed. “Why can’t this sport ever be SIMPLE? Get in the ring, face your opponent, fight to a fall, move on. Instead we have plotting and run-ins and backstabbings and screwjobs. It can get rather wearying. Especially on a night like this, when the fans paid to see a great match, not the Aimee Easter Show.”
“Ah well, at least the fans get a great match to end it,” Pollaski said, pointing to a monitor down the hall that was showing Becka and Markus struggling in the ring. “And Eileen was fuckin’ AWESOME.”
“Mmm-hmmm,” Wendy nodded, smiling slightly, while rubbing her chin. “In fact, that seems like a pretty good place to start.”
“With Eileen being fuckin’ awesome?” Pollaski frowned.
“Eileen’s always awesome, Pollaski. Moreso than you could possibly realize.” Wendy said, smiling enigmatically, a vision of blurring brown hair and Amaro’s rage-filled face from earlier tonight coming to her mind. “Anyways, get our flight pushed back a day, and I’ll see if she can meet for lunch tomorrow.” She paused, hoping silently that Eileen had the strength and courage to do what she was about to ask.
“I think Eileen and I need to have a little chat.”
12-15-13
They say that when you’re a champion, you always need to be looking over your shoulder. That you have a target on your back, to be prepared to deal with someone- anyone looking to get the upper hand on you, no matter how unscrupulous the methods. To be a champion in this industry, you need to have constant vigilance, and thick skin, both physically and mentally.
Tonight, I got that full in the face- to a jarring level.
One Night Stand has gone from extremely difficult to insane, with the addition of Valerie Lamb to the main event. It’s not a complaint- it’s only fair that Val get another shot at the belt after what happened. But that still means I’m defending against two former champions- perhaps the two best wrestlers in the company, period, at once. If I walk out of One Night Stand with the title… I’ll have earned it for certain!
But it goes beyond that. It even goes beyond Sophie Richards being drawn as my Byte This opponent. I have Camilla Pazzini suddenly acting like I’m the worst person in the history of the company. I have Mika Demidov somehow offended because I wanted so badly a match against Scarlett. And now I have Aimee Easter finally cashing in her poison, with the bonus of wanting to use me as some sort of an example for a “revolution.”
So yeah, 2014 is going to be pretty busy with that line.
At least the pressure’s off somewhat until the New Year. It’s hard to feel THAT sorry for yourself when you’re about to face another champion, once who’s gone through far worse than you have. But Wendigo’s a respectful opponent, and with Legendary gone from ringside, it should just be a fun, challenging exhibition match between two great wrestlers. Its nice to have one of those once in a while, and not worry about titles or grudges. Just a chance to turn wrestling into the pure art form it has the potential to be.
But once the New Year hits, the Pressure’s back on. Aimee Easter first, and then onto One Night Stand, and then Byte This. A regular Tour De Force.
No one ever said being a champion was easy, after all!
-Wendy
============================
Sunday December 29, 2013
Tampa Bay Times Forum- In Ring
Tampa, Florida
10:41 PM Local Time
“UNGH!” Wendy Briese grunted as her upper back slammed into the mat, the ring shaking with the force of the impact. That was… what… the THIRD time Wendigo had slammed her like that in a row?
Her vision slightly swimming, she saw her ring boots suspended in the air above her, her body folded up like a matchbook. Wendigo must have bridged the move into a pin, a smart idea really… although… oh crap...
“NO!” Wendy suddenly snapped to, jerking her arm towards the ropes on instinct, grabbing the lower rope just before she heard a hand pound the mat. The crowd erupted, then groaned, as Wendigo released her. There was no bell sound… at least she didn’t THINK she heard a bell…
She could hear voices nearby, muffled by the cheering of the crowd. Wendigo and the referee? Was he arguing? If so, that gave her time… she needed to clear her head. Rhythmic breathing… pain management… she could do this.
Mercifully, no attack came. His mistake, Wendy thought with the barest flicker of a smile. The match had been going badly against her, ever since he had countered that cobra clutch into a stunner. It had taken Wendy five minutes before she could even open her mouth, and by then, Wendigo had done quite the number on her.
But now was her chance. Wendigo’s attack had stalled, for whatever reason. She was regaining her wits and her strength, and he wasn’t doing anything to stop her. She could get it turned around right here. For good.
But first she needed to get off this canvas.
Slowly, painfully, Wendy struggled to her knees, wincing as pain shot up her leg from that modified TTFO. She’d have to ask Markus about that submission after that match… it was one she didn’t mind learning. She could never know too many holds, after all!
Suddenly, she froze, goosepumps prickling her skin. Something was wrong. The buzzing of the crowd- it was too expectant. They were expecting something big to happen- Wendigo hadn’t broken off his attack- he was setting her up for the finish. She glanced at the corner in front of her, which was empty. Wendigo had to be behind her. Waiting… ready to pounce like a polar bear.
A smile slowly came to her lips. Well two could play that game. If he came in low, she could trip him, and lock hiim in the Banshee. If he came in high enough, maybe a reversal into a Vortexinator. But she had to time it perfectly. Too quick, and she’d miss her chance. Too slow, and the match was over.
She heard no footsteps behind her, no pounding of feet. He was waiting for her to turn around. She slumped forward, bending over slightly, as if fatigued from the climb to her feet. Alright, Champ. One…. two…
THREE!
Wendy whirled, bracing for the attack, but it never came. Wendigo was already down, slumped in the corner, having been done in by the briefcase that had just smashed on his head. And holding the briefcase, standing on the apron was…
“EASTER!” Wendy howled, dimly hearing the bell ringing somewhere off in the distance. Aimee was kissing the briefcase, mocking her as she leapt down from the apron. Wendy stormed across the ring, ready to climb out and go after the Evolution Champion herself. But she paused as a blur stormed into the ringside area, swinging away at Easter, the crowd erupting in cheers.
“Eileen,” Wendy whispered, surprised at seeing the Tsunami in person right in front of her. Even more surprising- and slightly disconcerting, was the rage on Eileen’s face. She wasn’t just out to drive Aimee off- she was going to hurt her. Even now, she had her in a Thesz press… firing shot after shot onto the woman who had done all she could to ruin her life.
And all Wendy did was stand there transfixed, staring down as security tried to separate the brawling women. The adrenaline was coursing out of her, her strength going with it. She stepped back from the rope, looking helplessly over at Angela Rocca, who shrugged apologetically. The match was over, and even if she’d been too focused on Easter to overhear Youle announcing the result, she had no doubt in her mind what it was.
Great, two matches against SVW talent, two disqualification losses. At least this one was a TEENSY more legitimate than Starla tossing her for bumping into her when she faced Moxie. She glanced up the ramp, just in time to see a fleeing Aimee disappear behind the curtain, Eileen in hot pursuit. She then glanced over at Markus. He was shakily getting to his feet.
“I’m sorry!” she yelled, trying to get her voice to carry over the crowd. “I didn’t mean to… I mean… I didn’t think anyone would… well… congrats.” She couldn’t hear Markus’ reply over the crowd, but the tone sounded agreeable enough, and he was offering a handshake. Without reservation, Wendy took it, and he raised her arm up, the crowd around cheering the two champions. Wendy smiled shakily, squinting at the massive array of flashbulbs washing over here. Well, at least the night ended somewhat-
Wendy gasped as the lights flickered, and some heavy metal song began to play… Rebecka Hate’s song. She looked up at the entrance ramp. Christian Kane was already out, and Hate was stepping out to join him. In her arms was another briefcase.
“NOW?!” Wendy exclaimed, looking over at Wendigo, aghast. But the Yukon native didn’t seem to hear her. He was staring up the ramp at Hate, the barest flicker of a smile on his face.
In a rush, Wendy came to truly appreciate Markus’ predictament. Sure, she’d had a briefcase cashed in on her, but she at least had nearly a month’s advance warning, not to mention it was non-title. If Becka Hate was about to do what she thought Becka Hate was about to do, he’d be defending on zero notice, and already weakened. And yet, he seemed to be welcoming it.
As for her… she’d never felt more tired in her life. Or more like a third wheel.
“Good luck,” she whispered, slinking away to the side of the ring, even as Becka began to climb in. She rolled out, slinking quietly away from ringside as the crowd noise began in anticipation of a second, far more impactful main event.
Most of the crowd’s attention was on the confrontation in the ring, but a few die-hard FFW fans were cheering her as she walked to the back, some even extending their hands out, hoping for a high five. She ignored them, her gaze squarely transfixed on that curtain. She just wanted to get back there, and get out of the limelight for a bit. Plenty of time for that later.
Youle was announcing the title match as she reached the top of the ramp, and the explosion of crowd noise helped push her backstage. She pushed through the staging area, down a corrider, stopping by a row of production boxes. She hopped up on one, taking a seat, and leaning back against the wall, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.
“So, have fun out there?” a voice spoke up behind her, and Wendy looked over to the grinning face of her manager. Pollaski was still wearing the South Florida football jersey he had competed in, and by the smell of it, hadn’t showered yet either.
“I did,” she replied, wrinkling her nose slightly. “At least until You-Know-Who decided to go and wreck everything.”
“You-know-who? What, is Aimee Lord Voldemort?” Pollaski said, cackling. “Nah, they’re both ugly, but Aimee’s face is WAY more lumpier. Like she had marshmallow injections.”
Wendy didn’t smile. Instead she glanced over at her manager. “Did you think she was going to do that?”
“Nope,” Pollaski said, his tone turning more serious. “If I had, I’d have stayed out there, instead of coming back here.” He paused. “I guess we should have.”
“No kidding,” Wendy sighed hopping down from the crate, and turning to head back to the locker room. “That’s the second match in a row I’ve had ruined by someone.” she said, glaring at her manager. “I don’t want any surprises on the Ninth, Daniel.”
“If you’re talking about Scarborough Fair signing, I can totally…”
“I’m talking about keeping the dang ring clear!” Wendy snapped, glaring at her manager, although her tone softened. “She’s got that Tommy idiot following her now, and of course Lightning. Keep them away. Do what I pay you to do, and make sure it stays one on one! I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Yeah, I think I can do that,” Pollaski said, cracking his knuckles with a slight grin. It faded under another withering glare from his client. “You look worried.”
“I am,” Wendy confessed. “Maybe it’s all a ruse, but the way that woman acts, like she’s got this huge master plan she’s putting into action, that no one’s been able to stop yet.”
“And you’re the next objective,” Pollaski commented. “Which means you could be the one to derail the entire thing. Wouldn’t that be hilarious?”
Again, Wendy didn’t laugh, but instead sighed. “Why can’t this sport ever be SIMPLE? Get in the ring, face your opponent, fight to a fall, move on. Instead we have plotting and run-ins and backstabbings and screwjobs. It can get rather wearying. Especially on a night like this, when the fans paid to see a great match, not the Aimee Easter Show.”
“Ah well, at least the fans get a great match to end it,” Pollaski said, pointing to a monitor down the hall that was showing Becka and Markus struggling in the ring. “And Eileen was fuckin’ AWESOME.”
“Mmm-hmmm,” Wendy nodded, smiling slightly, while rubbing her chin. “In fact, that seems like a pretty good place to start.”
“With Eileen being fuckin’ awesome?” Pollaski frowned.
“Eileen’s always awesome, Pollaski. Moreso than you could possibly realize.” Wendy said, smiling enigmatically, a vision of blurring brown hair and Amaro’s rage-filled face from earlier tonight coming to her mind. “Anyways, get our flight pushed back a day, and I’ll see if she can meet for lunch tomorrow.” She paused, hoping silently that Eileen had the strength and courage to do what she was about to ask.
“I think Eileen and I need to have a little chat.”
EPISODE 234: Felicity, Part II
Tuesday December 24, 2013
County Road 73B
Near Gatlinburg, Tennessee
10:03 PM Local Time
“Come on! COME ON!” Terrence Thompson growled, glaring at the needle on the speedometer as it dipped below 15. Even in normal, dry conditions, the incline would have been a formidable one. In snowy conditions, at night, in a forty foot RV, it was proving to be a nightmare.
“Are we going to make it?” Wendy asked from behind him. She was kneeling on the main cabin’s floor, hands out to steady herself as she wrapped a green and black scarf- her favorite- around Felicity’s head. Even wrapped in the blanket, with the heater on full blast, the little girl was still shivering, and Wendy was growing more and more fearful that her initial concerns about hypothermia could prove correct. Twice now, she had thought Felicity was nodding off, but had forced the girl to stay awake.
“For a four hundred thousand dollar bucket of bolts, we damn well BETTER make it.” Terrence growled, grimacing as the speedometer needle inched closer and closer to ten. “So long as we don’t actually end up stalling, we’re fine. Does she know how much further? We’ve gone at least three miles already.”
“She said it was at the top of the hill,” Wendy said, although a sinking feeling was settling in the pit of her stomach. How long had it taken Felicity to walk three-plus miles in driving snow? How long had she been standing there at the intersection? How long had all three of them been sitting up on this mountain in a broken-down car? And most of all- this was the one she dreaded- what were they going to find at the top.
“I should have put chains on,” Terrence snarled as the RV lurched for what must have been the fiftieth time, the tires spinning before again finding purchase in the snow. Wendy couldn’t tell for certain, but the snow had to have been at least six inches deep here.
Wendy turned, and cast a forlorn look at the Keurig machine that had been bungee-tied to the fridge in the RV’s galley. It was inaccessible while the RV was running, but once they had stopped, she was going to make hot chocolate- tea- anything to get hot liquids in these people. But they needed to get there first.
“I think we’re levelling out!” Terrence yelled from the cockpit, as the RV lurched again, but picked up speed. He grinned as the speedometer slipped above ten, slowly lurching back to fifteen. “Come on, baby! Ah! There it is!”
Wendy crawled to the front of the RV, looking between the cockpit seats out the windshield, at a small car that was at least twenty years old, snow covering it’s dark windows. Her heart raced, as she quickly put on her coat.
“A Chevy Corsica? God, I haven’t seen one of these in ages… they stopped making ‘em in 1997” Terrence muttered as he feathered the RV to a stop.
Wendy turned to the two girls sitting on the RV’s couch. “Both of you stay in here, okay? Theresa, turn the Keurig on, and fill it with water. Don’t use the tap water, we have some bottles in the fridge. Just get it heated up. Can you do this for me?”
Theresa nodded. “Can I put the cup in and close the lid, too?”
“Just wait on that. Maybe Felicity would like to try it too,” Wendy said, offering a concilatory smile. “Just please make sure the water’s hot, okay?” When her daughter nodded, Wendy turned and ran out the door.
Terrence had already leapt from the RV, and was trudging through the snow, his arms flailing to keep his balance. Wendy followed him, grimacing as the snow fell through the top of her shoes, soaking her socks. After nearly falling once, she began trying to land her feet in Terrence’s own footprints, although she had some difficulty matching her husband’s longer stride.
Terrence had reached the Corsica, and brushed the snow off the windows, peering inside. He then rapped on the window. “Hey! Anyone in there? Hello?” To her immense relief, the door cracked open. Terrence swung the door wider, and reached in to help a woman, perhaps a year or two younger than Wendy and holding a baby in her arms, out of the car.
“Oh, thank you! Thank you!!” The woman was crying, in her soft Tennessee accent. “I don’t know how much longer…” her voice broke off with a sob. “Did Felicity bring you here? Is she okay?”
“Yes.” Wendy said, running forward to help her husband guide the woman out of the car. “She’s in the RV with our daughter. She was very brave to be out there all alone, Mrs…”
“Holcombe,” the woman said. “But call me Mary. And this is Holly,” she said, presenting the baby.
Wendy looked down and smiled at the infant, wrapped in what must have been fifteen different clothes or blankets, a stark contrast to her mother, who was only wearing a sweater. Big blue eyes stared back at her, the baby cooing slightly. Even with the layer of warmth, the baby’s skin was as pale as her mother and sister’s, and Wendy nearly sobbed with the thought of what would have happened in perhaps minutes. “Come on, let’s get you inside. Have some hot chocolate. Or would you prefer coffee?”
“Cocoa’s fine, and thank you kindly,” the woman said, as they neared the RV. “We were on our way to Asheville and my Pa’s for Christmas, and I think I took a wrong turn. I pulled over to look at my map, but when I tried to go again and turned around, it died. And I couldn’t get it started- I don’t know anything about cars. So I sent Felicity back to see if she could get help… and did everything I could to keep Holly warm. And prayed for an angel… and you came.”
Wendy could feel herself blushing. “I’m no angel, Mary. Just… we were lucky to see your little girl. Now come on in where it’s nice and warm.”
Mary Holcombe climbed the stairs, and let out a cry of joy at seeing her elder daughter, and the two embraced, crying. “You’re okay! You’re okay! Thank Jesus!” Mary sobbed as she tried to juggle both the infant an the eight year old in a hug.
Wendy was blinking back tears of her own as she opened a cabinet, pulling down two K-cups of hot chocolate, and inserting one in the holder and closing the lid. She slid a styrofoam cup underneath, and turned the machine on, smiling at the gurgling sound it made as it began to cycle water. “Just a minute on that hot chocolate, then” she announced.
Mary looked amazed at it, her jaw open. “I’ve neve seen something like this before.”
“Oh, it’s great. My manager brought me one for Christmas a couple years ago, and it’s a godsend if you just want to have a cup of coffee without making a whole pot. Or warm up quickly,” she added as she watched the stream of cocoa trickle out of the machine into the cup.
“Amazing what they come up with,” Mary exclaimed.
“Well, while you all get warmed up, I’m going to take a look and see if I can figure out what’s wrong,” Terrence announced, clearing his throat. “At least then we’ll know what to tell a mechanic when we get into Gatlinburg.” And with that, he hopped back out of the RV.
“Ah, bless your hearts,” Mary sighed again, as Wendy handed Felicity the first of the hot chocolates, and started the second one. “But Lord-a-mercy… will there be a mechanic open this late on Christmas Eve?”
“You’ll never know,” Wendy said, shrugging. “At the very least, you can stay in Gatlinburg for Christmas, then get the mechanic on Thursday.”
“But today is Thursday,” Mary protested, drawing an odd look from Wendy. “Either way, we… ah, can’t really afford a hotel. I only have enough money for gas and some diapers for Holly here.”
“Well, we could help you out with the hotel if you need it,” Wendy said, handing Mary another cup of cocoa. “With the car too, I’m sure.”
Mary looked away, clearly embarassed. “I don’t want to impose. And… I’m sure you have your own Christmas plans to get to. Maybe we can call Pa on a payphone in Gatlinburg, and he can come get us. I know it’s late, but it’s only a couple hours.”
“What’s his number? We can call him right now,” Wendy said as she pulled out her phone. She glanced at it, the frowned. “Or not. No signal here, either.” She glanced up, and saw that Mary was staring openly at her phone in amazement. Wendy could feel more color creeping into her cheeks. It was obvious that the woman was barely making ends meet as it was, and Wendy felt uneasy showing off such fancy, expensive gadgets in front of her. She stuffed the Android back in her pocket, and tried to change the subject. “So… is there a Mr. HOlcombe?”
Mary shook her head sadly. “Died in a construction accident last year, when I was seven months with Holly here,” she said.
“Oh. I’m so sorry,” Wendy said, her throat constricting.
“It’s alright,” Mary said. “It’s been hard, and I miss him, but the Lord works in mysterious ways. I’m sure I’ll see Jake up there one day. But I know he’s looking down on us tonight. He must have been the one who guided you to Felicity. I know it.”
Wendy smiled, goosebumps prickling on her skin as she looked at the small, pale eight year old. “Perhaps,” she said, at a loss for words. “Like you said, God works in mysterious ways.”
“Car’s fixed,” a male voice announced, and both Wendy and Mary looked up to see Terrence stomping off the stairs, his hair dripping and covered with melting snow.
“That was quick…” Wendy said, amazed. Her husband was good with cars, but she had figured he’d have been lucky if he was even able to properly diagnose the problem up here.
“Yeah, well, a couple of your spark plugs were fried. I had a couple extra in one of my compartments, so I switched em out, and she started up just fine. I got her running right now to get some heat on, and then we can take her into Gatlinburg where you can get her looked at more after Christmas”
“Thank you.” Mary said, her face beaming. “But we really need to head on to Asheville. Pa’s expecting us.”
Wendy opened her mouth to protest, but Terrence cut her off with a look. He apparently figured arguing would do no good. “Well, at least let us follow you to 441, just in case. It’s the least we could do.”
“That really won’t be necessary, but thank you kindly.” Mary said. “You both truly are angels. Come on, Felicity, let’s go see your grandparents.”
Felicity, who had been enjoying one of Theresa’s books, got up, and bounded out of the RV, her mother following more slowly, still carrying the baby. Wendy and Terrence followed suit, helping them through the snow to the car.
“It’s letting up, I think.” WEndy observed, looking up at the falling flakes, which were coming down much less densely.
“That’s good. Still, go slow down the hill back to Old Highway 73,” Terrence cautioned. “You could easily lose control. We’ll be right behind you.”
“Thank you so much,” Mary said, setting Holly down on the driver’s seat, and turning to hug Wendy, then Terrence. “You truly are a Christmas miracle.”
“It’s really nothing,” Wendy said, adamantly. “Anyone would have done it. The true hero here is Felicity.” She turned towards the eight year old, giving her a hug as well. “What you did tonight was beyond what many adults could do. You’re going to be a fine young lady with your commitment and bravery.”
“Thank you,” the little girl said. “Merry Christmas. Oh, your scarf.”
“Keep it. You more than earned it tonight. And Merry Christmas,” Wendy said back, letting go and standing up. “And a Merry Christmas to you, Mary.”
“God bless you,” Mary said again, then, with a sniffle, turned back to her car, and began to buckle in the baby into the car seat, while Felicity climbed into the back seat, holding her new scarf tightly around her. Terrence grabbed Wendy’s arm and guided her back to the RV.
“I can’t believe you fixed it.” Wendy said.
“Yeah, I got lucky,” Terrence replied. “Anything more serious and that Corsica would be sitting up here til March. Now let’s hurry back and get ready to go.”
“That anxious to get to Ski Chalet?” Wendy said, squeezing his arm.
“You could say that,” Terrence said, but then sighed. “Let’s just say I’ll feel a lot easier about us and her when we get to 441. This is going to be a nasty descent.”
“It’ll be just like a sled ride,” Wendy joked, although she felt the tightness in her chest she always did when nerves took hold. “You’ll get us down safely, Terry. I know it.” She climbed up the stairs to the RV. “Alright Theresa we’re going. Buckle up, okay?”
She heard Terrence’s husband’s footsteps heading up the stairs as well, then his voice. “What the hell?!”
“Terry what?” Wendy said, looking out of the windshield. She gasped. “They’re gone! Did they drive off?”
“They couldn’t have!” Terrence exclaimed. “She was still fastening her car seat when I got back to the RV!” With a huff, he threw open the door again, and climbed outside. Wendy followed, looking around for the Corsica. But there was no sign of it, or tire tracks. Just a field of snow, and Terrence and Wendy’s footprints going back and forth from the RV. She heard another set of footsteps- Theresa ahd left the RV as well.
“What the hell?” Terrence said again, exhaling. “It’s like they were never even here.”
“Terry, what’s that?” Wendy pointed, off the road next to where the Corsica was. Three crosses, one large, one medium, one small, sat on the roadside in a neat little row. Around the middle one was a very familiar looking green and black scarf. Brushing past Theresa, she trudged through the snow, kneeling down in front of the crosses, and brushing the snow off of a gold plate that had been fastened to the crossbar of one. She brushed the snow off.
FELICITY HOLCOMBE
DECEMBER 24, 1998
She didn’t even need to brush off the other plates, but stood back, glancing over at Terrence, tears burning in her eyes. “They were...”
“Hunh,” Terrence said, scratching his head, at a loss for words. “I don’t believe it.” He sighed and shrugged, the only reaction he could have. “Well… you gonna get your scarf?”
“No.” Wendy said, sniffling as she shook her head. “I gave it to her. It belongs here.” She turned around, took her both her husband’s and daugher’s arms, and led them back to the RV. She was last to climb the steps, and turned back towards the crosses.
“Merry Christmas, Felicity” she whispered. “Wherever you are, I hope it’s nice and warm.”
County Road 73B
Near Gatlinburg, Tennessee
10:03 PM Local Time
“Come on! COME ON!” Terrence Thompson growled, glaring at the needle on the speedometer as it dipped below 15. Even in normal, dry conditions, the incline would have been a formidable one. In snowy conditions, at night, in a forty foot RV, it was proving to be a nightmare.
“Are we going to make it?” Wendy asked from behind him. She was kneeling on the main cabin’s floor, hands out to steady herself as she wrapped a green and black scarf- her favorite- around Felicity’s head. Even wrapped in the blanket, with the heater on full blast, the little girl was still shivering, and Wendy was growing more and more fearful that her initial concerns about hypothermia could prove correct. Twice now, she had thought Felicity was nodding off, but had forced the girl to stay awake.
“For a four hundred thousand dollar bucket of bolts, we damn well BETTER make it.” Terrence growled, grimacing as the speedometer needle inched closer and closer to ten. “So long as we don’t actually end up stalling, we’re fine. Does she know how much further? We’ve gone at least three miles already.”
“She said it was at the top of the hill,” Wendy said, although a sinking feeling was settling in the pit of her stomach. How long had it taken Felicity to walk three-plus miles in driving snow? How long had she been standing there at the intersection? How long had all three of them been sitting up on this mountain in a broken-down car? And most of all- this was the one she dreaded- what were they going to find at the top.
“I should have put chains on,” Terrence snarled as the RV lurched for what must have been the fiftieth time, the tires spinning before again finding purchase in the snow. Wendy couldn’t tell for certain, but the snow had to have been at least six inches deep here.
Wendy turned, and cast a forlorn look at the Keurig machine that had been bungee-tied to the fridge in the RV’s galley. It was inaccessible while the RV was running, but once they had stopped, she was going to make hot chocolate- tea- anything to get hot liquids in these people. But they needed to get there first.
“I think we’re levelling out!” Terrence yelled from the cockpit, as the RV lurched again, but picked up speed. He grinned as the speedometer slipped above ten, slowly lurching back to fifteen. “Come on, baby! Ah! There it is!”
Wendy crawled to the front of the RV, looking between the cockpit seats out the windshield, at a small car that was at least twenty years old, snow covering it’s dark windows. Her heart raced, as she quickly put on her coat.
“A Chevy Corsica? God, I haven’t seen one of these in ages… they stopped making ‘em in 1997” Terrence muttered as he feathered the RV to a stop.
Wendy turned to the two girls sitting on the RV’s couch. “Both of you stay in here, okay? Theresa, turn the Keurig on, and fill it with water. Don’t use the tap water, we have some bottles in the fridge. Just get it heated up. Can you do this for me?”
Theresa nodded. “Can I put the cup in and close the lid, too?”
“Just wait on that. Maybe Felicity would like to try it too,” Wendy said, offering a concilatory smile. “Just please make sure the water’s hot, okay?” When her daughter nodded, Wendy turned and ran out the door.
Terrence had already leapt from the RV, and was trudging through the snow, his arms flailing to keep his balance. Wendy followed him, grimacing as the snow fell through the top of her shoes, soaking her socks. After nearly falling once, she began trying to land her feet in Terrence’s own footprints, although she had some difficulty matching her husband’s longer stride.
Terrence had reached the Corsica, and brushed the snow off the windows, peering inside. He then rapped on the window. “Hey! Anyone in there? Hello?” To her immense relief, the door cracked open. Terrence swung the door wider, and reached in to help a woman, perhaps a year or two younger than Wendy and holding a baby in her arms, out of the car.
“Oh, thank you! Thank you!!” The woman was crying, in her soft Tennessee accent. “I don’t know how much longer…” her voice broke off with a sob. “Did Felicity bring you here? Is she okay?”
“Yes.” Wendy said, running forward to help her husband guide the woman out of the car. “She’s in the RV with our daughter. She was very brave to be out there all alone, Mrs…”
“Holcombe,” the woman said. “But call me Mary. And this is Holly,” she said, presenting the baby.
Wendy looked down and smiled at the infant, wrapped in what must have been fifteen different clothes or blankets, a stark contrast to her mother, who was only wearing a sweater. Big blue eyes stared back at her, the baby cooing slightly. Even with the layer of warmth, the baby’s skin was as pale as her mother and sister’s, and Wendy nearly sobbed with the thought of what would have happened in perhaps minutes. “Come on, let’s get you inside. Have some hot chocolate. Or would you prefer coffee?”
“Cocoa’s fine, and thank you kindly,” the woman said, as they neared the RV. “We were on our way to Asheville and my Pa’s for Christmas, and I think I took a wrong turn. I pulled over to look at my map, but when I tried to go again and turned around, it died. And I couldn’t get it started- I don’t know anything about cars. So I sent Felicity back to see if she could get help… and did everything I could to keep Holly warm. And prayed for an angel… and you came.”
Wendy could feel herself blushing. “I’m no angel, Mary. Just… we were lucky to see your little girl. Now come on in where it’s nice and warm.”
Mary Holcombe climbed the stairs, and let out a cry of joy at seeing her elder daughter, and the two embraced, crying. “You’re okay! You’re okay! Thank Jesus!” Mary sobbed as she tried to juggle both the infant an the eight year old in a hug.
Wendy was blinking back tears of her own as she opened a cabinet, pulling down two K-cups of hot chocolate, and inserting one in the holder and closing the lid. She slid a styrofoam cup underneath, and turned the machine on, smiling at the gurgling sound it made as it began to cycle water. “Just a minute on that hot chocolate, then” she announced.
Mary looked amazed at it, her jaw open. “I’ve neve seen something like this before.”
“Oh, it’s great. My manager brought me one for Christmas a couple years ago, and it’s a godsend if you just want to have a cup of coffee without making a whole pot. Or warm up quickly,” she added as she watched the stream of cocoa trickle out of the machine into the cup.
“Amazing what they come up with,” Mary exclaimed.
“Well, while you all get warmed up, I’m going to take a look and see if I can figure out what’s wrong,” Terrence announced, clearing his throat. “At least then we’ll know what to tell a mechanic when we get into Gatlinburg.” And with that, he hopped back out of the RV.
“Ah, bless your hearts,” Mary sighed again, as Wendy handed Felicity the first of the hot chocolates, and started the second one. “But Lord-a-mercy… will there be a mechanic open this late on Christmas Eve?”
“You’ll never know,” Wendy said, shrugging. “At the very least, you can stay in Gatlinburg for Christmas, then get the mechanic on Thursday.”
“But today is Thursday,” Mary protested, drawing an odd look from Wendy. “Either way, we… ah, can’t really afford a hotel. I only have enough money for gas and some diapers for Holly here.”
“Well, we could help you out with the hotel if you need it,” Wendy said, handing Mary another cup of cocoa. “With the car too, I’m sure.”
Mary looked away, clearly embarassed. “I don’t want to impose. And… I’m sure you have your own Christmas plans to get to. Maybe we can call Pa on a payphone in Gatlinburg, and he can come get us. I know it’s late, but it’s only a couple hours.”
“What’s his number? We can call him right now,” Wendy said as she pulled out her phone. She glanced at it, the frowned. “Or not. No signal here, either.” She glanced up, and saw that Mary was staring openly at her phone in amazement. Wendy could feel more color creeping into her cheeks. It was obvious that the woman was barely making ends meet as it was, and Wendy felt uneasy showing off such fancy, expensive gadgets in front of her. She stuffed the Android back in her pocket, and tried to change the subject. “So… is there a Mr. HOlcombe?”
Mary shook her head sadly. “Died in a construction accident last year, when I was seven months with Holly here,” she said.
“Oh. I’m so sorry,” Wendy said, her throat constricting.
“It’s alright,” Mary said. “It’s been hard, and I miss him, but the Lord works in mysterious ways. I’m sure I’ll see Jake up there one day. But I know he’s looking down on us tonight. He must have been the one who guided you to Felicity. I know it.”
Wendy smiled, goosebumps prickling on her skin as she looked at the small, pale eight year old. “Perhaps,” she said, at a loss for words. “Like you said, God works in mysterious ways.”
“Car’s fixed,” a male voice announced, and both Wendy and Mary looked up to see Terrence stomping off the stairs, his hair dripping and covered with melting snow.
“That was quick…” Wendy said, amazed. Her husband was good with cars, but she had figured he’d have been lucky if he was even able to properly diagnose the problem up here.
“Yeah, well, a couple of your spark plugs were fried. I had a couple extra in one of my compartments, so I switched em out, and she started up just fine. I got her running right now to get some heat on, and then we can take her into Gatlinburg where you can get her looked at more after Christmas”
“Thank you.” Mary said, her face beaming. “But we really need to head on to Asheville. Pa’s expecting us.”
Wendy opened her mouth to protest, but Terrence cut her off with a look. He apparently figured arguing would do no good. “Well, at least let us follow you to 441, just in case. It’s the least we could do.”
“That really won’t be necessary, but thank you kindly.” Mary said. “You both truly are angels. Come on, Felicity, let’s go see your grandparents.”
Felicity, who had been enjoying one of Theresa’s books, got up, and bounded out of the RV, her mother following more slowly, still carrying the baby. Wendy and Terrence followed suit, helping them through the snow to the car.
“It’s letting up, I think.” WEndy observed, looking up at the falling flakes, which were coming down much less densely.
“That’s good. Still, go slow down the hill back to Old Highway 73,” Terrence cautioned. “You could easily lose control. We’ll be right behind you.”
“Thank you so much,” Mary said, setting Holly down on the driver’s seat, and turning to hug Wendy, then Terrence. “You truly are a Christmas miracle.”
“It’s really nothing,” Wendy said, adamantly. “Anyone would have done it. The true hero here is Felicity.” She turned towards the eight year old, giving her a hug as well. “What you did tonight was beyond what many adults could do. You’re going to be a fine young lady with your commitment and bravery.”
“Thank you,” the little girl said. “Merry Christmas. Oh, your scarf.”
“Keep it. You more than earned it tonight. And Merry Christmas,” Wendy said back, letting go and standing up. “And a Merry Christmas to you, Mary.”
“God bless you,” Mary said again, then, with a sniffle, turned back to her car, and began to buckle in the baby into the car seat, while Felicity climbed into the back seat, holding her new scarf tightly around her. Terrence grabbed Wendy’s arm and guided her back to the RV.
“I can’t believe you fixed it.” Wendy said.
“Yeah, I got lucky,” Terrence replied. “Anything more serious and that Corsica would be sitting up here til March. Now let’s hurry back and get ready to go.”
“That anxious to get to Ski Chalet?” Wendy said, squeezing his arm.
“You could say that,” Terrence said, but then sighed. “Let’s just say I’ll feel a lot easier about us and her when we get to 441. This is going to be a nasty descent.”
“It’ll be just like a sled ride,” Wendy joked, although she felt the tightness in her chest she always did when nerves took hold. “You’ll get us down safely, Terry. I know it.” She climbed up the stairs to the RV. “Alright Theresa we’re going. Buckle up, okay?”
She heard Terrence’s husband’s footsteps heading up the stairs as well, then his voice. “What the hell?!”
“Terry what?” Wendy said, looking out of the windshield. She gasped. “They’re gone! Did they drive off?”
“They couldn’t have!” Terrence exclaimed. “She was still fastening her car seat when I got back to the RV!” With a huff, he threw open the door again, and climbed outside. Wendy followed, looking around for the Corsica. But there was no sign of it, or tire tracks. Just a field of snow, and Terrence and Wendy’s footprints going back and forth from the RV. She heard another set of footsteps- Theresa ahd left the RV as well.
“What the hell?” Terrence said again, exhaling. “It’s like they were never even here.”
“Terry, what’s that?” Wendy pointed, off the road next to where the Corsica was. Three crosses, one large, one medium, one small, sat on the roadside in a neat little row. Around the middle one was a very familiar looking green and black scarf. Brushing past Theresa, she trudged through the snow, kneeling down in front of the crosses, and brushing the snow off of a gold plate that had been fastened to the crossbar of one. She brushed the snow off.
FELICITY HOLCOMBE
DECEMBER 24, 1998
She didn’t even need to brush off the other plates, but stood back, glancing over at Terrence, tears burning in her eyes. “They were...”
“Hunh,” Terrence said, scratching his head, at a loss for words. “I don’t believe it.” He sighed and shrugged, the only reaction he could have. “Well… you gonna get your scarf?”
“No.” Wendy said, sniffling as she shook her head. “I gave it to her. It belongs here.” She turned around, took her both her husband’s and daugher’s arms, and led them back to the RV. She was last to climb the steps, and turned back towards the crosses.
“Merry Christmas, Felicity” she whispered. “Wherever you are, I hope it’s nice and warm.”
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