Saturday April 30, 2011
Mel’s KOA Campground- Laundry Room
Salem, Indiana
8:59 PM Local Time
“Great,” I muttered as I looked up at the clock, then back at the dryer. Breaking Point was starting, and this load still had twelve minutes left before finishing. Not for the first time, I wished that Terrence had taken the RV model with the small washer and dryer compared to the one he had chosen.
Ah well, it’s not like the RV hadn’t served us well over the past year or so, I mused as I looked out the window of the laundry room, across the RV lot. With the Kentuckiana Ford Dealers 200 tomorrow, the campground was packed, most of the RV’s decked out in racing regalia. It was a lovely evening, and many of the campers were outside, some cooking on grills, some playing catch or frisbee or tag, and some just sitting in lawn chairs, can of beer in hand, enjoying the night.
I tapped my fingers impatiently on the dryer, and blew a loose strand of hair from my face. It wasn’t just the fact that I was missing the show that had me antsy. A lot of things were eating at me.
Terrence’s second ARCA race was on the morrow, and the expectations for him were running surprisingly high. Salem Speedway was just a hundred miles south of our house, and Terrence had raced several times before on the .555 mile short track, including a win in a Saturday Night Feature race several years ago. He was starting sixth, and had a great car. After Talladega’s disappointing result, there was some pressures on him to do well here, and I hoped desperately that he could live up to the expectations.
As for me, my debut in FFW had gone considerably smoother, with a win over Charity Deas at the previous Velocity. Mr. Kincaid and Ms. Star must have found my performance to be acceptable, because I suddenly found myself booked against Rori Snyder. I knew it was a big match- not only was Rori the FFW Champion’s tag team partner, but was returning to action after being sidelined for over a month with an injury. Furthermore, Rori seemed like a genuinely good person, and although she was still just a rookie, her future looked bright. It should have been a tremendous match, a veteran against a rookie, both women having respect for each other.
At least until my idiot manager had screwed it all up.
A pang of anger washed over me as I remembered waking up last Thursday morning, ready for another day of working out and getting ready for my match. I had signed onto the computer, and had been absolutely horrified at the comments my manager had made about Robbyn Helmsley on Twitter. Then to read his column, where not only had he bragged about ‘wrecking her’, he also went and completely teed off on Rori, who hadn’t even been involved in the dispute. What he had said, and the callous way he had said it, nearly made me sick.
I had to fire him. I had no choice, I felt. I had just joined FFW, and was desperate to earn the respect of the rest of the locker room. There seemed to be a sense of community among many of the girls in the company, and I wanted to be a part of that. But how could I when my manager was saying horrible things about any woman who had the misfortune of being my opponent? How could I present myself as a practitioner of fair play and honor, when Pollaski acted like anything but?
I had the termination document in my hand, and a check to buy out the remainder of Pollaski’s contract when he had shown up at my house. Pollaski wasn’t stupid, he had to have known I was going to find out about this. He had looked at me, and quietly asked one smple question. “Am I fired?”
I had said nothing. I couldn’t, my voice wouldn’t come to me. I closed my eyes, almost as if I hoped that he would take the hint, just turn around, and leave.
He didn’t. He was still there when I opened them. He stood in our front door, arms behind his back, as if he were a prisoner facing a firing squad. But his head was tilted up in pride- one final act of defiance before his sentence was carried out.
It’s like he knew what I was thinking. “I’m not making this easy for you. If you’re going to throw away nine years of friendship, and five years of us working together, so you can save face amongst a bunch of people you’ve barely met, then you damn well better have the guts to tell me.”
“You’re...” I had begun, but stopped. I closed my eyes, swallowing hard. Maybe I should have fired him... but I couldn’t do it. He was right... damn him. I took another deep breath, as I felt my will cave in. “You’re on probation, effective ninety days. Furthermore, you will not be in the arena for Velocity next Thursday. I can’t have you in my corner against Rori. Not after that.”
There was relief on my manager’s face- for a second- but then it had been replaced by a sneer. “Anything else?” he whispered.
I shook my head. “Not officially. But I’d strongly recommend you stay off Twitter.. just for a few days. Let everything calm down.” I paused for a second, then took another deep breath. “Dan, I...”
“Understood,” Pollaski cut me off abruptly, then grabbed the handle to the front door, and turned, slamming it behind him as he walked out, leaving me alone in the hallway.
I hadn’t seen him since then. I had gone to the gym to train on my own, and we left for Salem the next day. Dan normally accompanied us to Terrence’s races, but he had stayed behind this time, citing ‘having things to do’.
*BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!*
The buzzer of the dryer roused me from my thoughts, and brought me back into the present. Quickly, I tossed the load into my basket- I could fold them as I watched Breaking Point. I had probably already missed the first match, and Lord knows what else. Thank God for TiVo...
I burst out of the Laundry room, nearly knocking over a woman who was carrying in a load of her own. I muttered a hurried apology, and kept going. The RV wasn’t too far away- if I hurried...
Still, as I walked, careful not to let any of the clothes fall out of the basket, I thought back to my confrontation with my manager. Had I been too strict? Too lenient? What was I supposed to do when the bonds of friendship conflicted with the bounds of honor? Or was there even a conflict at all?
I looked up at the darkening sky, as if expecting God to spell an answer out in the stars. None came of course...
Although I did hear a sudden burst of screaming from the RV- now less than a hundred feet away.
I quickened my pace, suddenly concerned. But that concern became alleviated as I got closer. It wasn’t screaming i was hearing... it was cheering... I assumed my family had started watching Breaking Point without me, but what could possibly...
I had reached the door, and I swung it open, climbing up the steps into the cabin. “What’s going..?”
I was cut off as my daughter, with a whoop of joy, ran towards me, her arms outstretched, screaming “You’re Chasing! You’re Chasing!” Confused, I set my laundry down on the driver’s chair, and hoisted the four-year old up.
“Whoah, quiet down Terr-Bear!” I reprimanded. “Who’s chasing what? What’s going on?”
“You’re Chasing the Crown!” Theresa giggled, as she returned my embrace.
I was confused, and I shot a pleading look at my husband for an explanation. He was grinning at me, while Cassie, our babysitter, remained on the couch. She too was smiling, although she rarely ever displayed the kind of exuberance my daughter and husband did.
“We were watching Breaking Point,” my husband began, while I set Theresa down. “And they announced this Chase for the Crown at Conviction to determine who gets a shot at the Evolution Championship after Undine. And well... you’re in it.”
I was stunned. Considering that I was just about to have my second match in the company, I would have been happy with *any* spot on the Conviction Card. This was...
“Wow...” I exhaled, and grabbed the back of the driver’s seat to steady myself, and looked at Terrence. “So... what is this Chase?”
“It’s pretty much a six-person tournament. The first round is a three on three tag match, then-”
“Oh, a cibernetico!” I exclaimed, breaking into a grin. I had always wanted to be in one of those!
“Not exactly...” Terrence replied, looking a bit put-off by my interruption. “It’s not a one night thing... it’s going to be three matches, all on different weeks. Next is a triple threat, but only the person who’s pinned gets eliminated. And then the last two square off.”
“Oh, I see,” I said, blinking. Everything was coming so quick, so unexpectedly, I didn’t really know how to make heads or tails of it. I glanced over at the television- Breaking Point had just come back from commercial, and Crystal Hilton was going to town on the hapless Faith. I looked back at my husband. “Who else is in this?”
Terrence shrugged, and smiled apologetically. “No idea, hon. They said they were going to announce three names, and then they announced yours, and after that, we kinda quit paying attention.”
I giggled. “Understandable,” I said, giving Terrence a quick kiss. Theresa had already bounded back to the couch, and was watching Breaking Point, and Terrence walked away to join her. I turned to pick up the laundry, but stopped. I didn’t know if my manager was watching this show or not. He’d probably want to know the news. I quickly pulled my Droid out of my jeans pocket, and fired off a text.
Are you watching BP? They’re sending me after the Evo title!
I picked up my laundry basket, and carried it over to the table, and began folding clothes. Cassie, always so much help, joined in, and together, we made quick work of the chore, watching as Crystal made quick work of Faith, to the cheers of the onscreen crowd.
“Ariel should be next,” Terrence commented, reaching down next to him, picking an errant sock off the ground, and tossing it back at me. “Moxie’s girl, that Lumina Ferrari chick, beat the hell out of Valentine in the opener.”
I couldn’t help but notice the barely suppressed glee in Terrence’s voice. Rebbecca was Katherine Stryfe’s tag partner, and Terrence always seemed to enjoy matches more when a Belmont was on the losing side. I rolled my eyes, but before I could respond, my phone “Droided”. I quickly looked at it.
I saw. You going to ban me from ringside for that one too?
I rolled my eyes again, and scoffed in irritation. The noise was not lost on my husband, who looked over at me, his eyebrow arched in curiosity. Without a word, I tossed him the phone. Terrence read the text message, and chuckled.
“Still butthurt, eh? Ah, don’t worry, it’s only been a couple of days. He’ll get over it.”
“I hope so,” I sighed, my mood suddenly deflated. I was silent for a second as I folded up the rest of the laundry. “Do you think I did the right thing?”
“What?” my husband’s eyes had suddenly gone wide in alarm over being put on the spot. He began to stammer. “Um... I think that... um...” he suddenly stood up. “You know what I think? I think we need to celebrate! What say we go to Dairy Queen for Blizzards?”
“YOU can’t, remember?” I responded, crossing my arms. “You can’t appear in a fast-food restaurant other than Taco Bell, or you’re in violation of your sponsorship deal. Now would you stop ducking my question?”
Terrence’s shoulders slumped, defeated. I grimaced as I looked behind him, and saw that the Ariel/Traci match was already underway. I was going to end up having to rewatch the entire show at this rate.
Finally, Terrence slowly spoke, drawing my attention back to him. “I think Pollaski was probably out of line in what he said, but you probably overreacted just a bit. We’ve known a long time what Pollaski’s like, he’s always been a bit on the uncouth side. Heck, that’s one of the reasons I like him, he’s not afraid to say what he feels.”
“I know... but...”
“And I know how happy you are to be in a company with other talented women wrestlers, and I know how badly you want to become accepted in the locker room, especially after the disaster with the tequila. But just remember, there aren’t many girls on this roster that would ever stand by you the way Pollaski has for all these years.”
I nodded solemnly. “I know. You’re right. I guess we need to have a chat.”
Terrence scoffed. “I think Pollaski’d rather be fired than get sucked into one of your heart-to-hearts...” he paused, and cringed slightly at the look I was giving him. “I’m kidding, hon!” Another pause. “But I was serious about the Blizzards.”
I held my glare for a couple more seconds, than shrugged. “Well, you can’t go, and I probably shouldn’t either, considering I’d probably be recognized. So that leaves...”
My voice trailed off, and as one, both of our gazes turned towards our babysitter, who suddenly didn’t look happy in the least. “Oh, come on...”
“Please?” Terrence had slipped into a plaintive look, which on him looked absolutely ridiculous. “I crave cookie dough!”
Cassie wavered for just a second, then sighed. “Can I at least take the car this time?”
There was another pause, and I glowered at my husband. Terrence had spent hours custom-building the 1971 Charger we towed around, and he was loathe to let anyone but himself drive it. “It’s not that long of a walk...”
“Just give her the keys, Terrence!” I groaned.
Terrence obliged, although grudgingly. “I swear to God, if you wreck it...”
“Insurance will cover it,” I interrupted, pulling a twenty out of my pocket and handing it to Cassie as well. “Get me a small Oreo, and Theresa the smallest M&M one they have. And of course, whatever you want. And thank you so much Cassie.”
Cassie flashed me a strained smile, and, shaking the keys in her hand, turned to walk out the door. I turned back ot the television, and was surprised to see Victoria Summers standing outside the ring, throwing a tantrum, while Ariel stood smirking inside.
“What just happened?”
Terrence looked over at the television too, and shrugged. “I dunno. We’ve kinda been talking.”
I grimaced. I had missed pretty much the whole show again!
Well, I mused, as I walked to the couch, at least I’ll be able to watch the main event. Thank goodness we TiVo’d the rest of it.
===============
Monday May 2, 2011
The Nest- Back Deck
Indianapolis, Indiana
2:10 PM Local Time
[Well, luckily for Terrence Thompson, Cassie didn’t wreck the Charger, and after she returned with the Blizzards, Wendy had a nice snack while she watched the replay of Breaking Point, this time being able to watch everything. Throw that in with Terrence racing to a miraculous THIRD PLACE the next day, and the Birdz outing to Salem has been a rousing success!]
[So we reopen the scene on the back deck of the Thompson family’s house, jokingly nicknamed The Nest. It’s a beautiful day in Indianapolis, the sun shining from admist an azure sky. Wendy, dressed in a short sleeved yellow sundress, stands leaning against the railing of the deck, looking out over her backyard. Her flame-red hair is tied behind her in a ponytail, and she’s smiling softly, enjoying the day.]
“It’s days like these that make you happy to just be alive.”
[A small shrug]
“I think May is probably my favorite month of the whole year. Probably because it’s the month of my birthday, and the month of the emerald. But May is also a month of changes. The weather makes its final turn from the dreary days of winter, turning towards summer. The flowers bloom, the birds return from their annual migration...”
[Wendy’s voice trails off for a second.]
“Changes are coming quickly here too. A month and a half ago, I’d never have expected to be here, in FFW. Two weeks ago, I was just hoping for a match at Conviction. And now... I can’t believe that after only one match in this company, I have been placed on the shortlist of contenders for the Evolution Championship.”
[A brief pause, while that soft smile again crosses Wendy’s face]
“It’s a sign that Mr. Kincaid and Ms. Star have faith in me, and in my ability. I hope I won’t disappoint them in the coming weeks, as I wrestle my way through the Chase to earn a shot at Colleen.. or Undine.”
[The smile fades slightly]
“But change is not always a good thing. The warmer weather brings more severe storms, and already so much devastation this year. The blooming flowers entice bees, a scary prospect if your daughter is allergic to them. And thanks to my manager, my match against Rori Snyder has changed from a friendly contest of two wrestlers trying to climb the ladder into something more... controversial.”
[Wendy takes a deep breath, and shakes her head sadly.]
“Rori, if my manager did anything to offend or hurt you, or your cousin, or anyone you love, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want the buildup to this match to take an ugly turn. Not with that, and not against someone like you.”
[Another small, weak smile]
“Ah well, I guess we shouldn’t let that stop us from tearing the house down anyways, should we?”
[Grin, but it only flickers for a second, replaced by an almost guilty looking expression.]
“I’ll come clean now. When I found out I was facing you, I was less than thrilled. It’s nothing personal against you... God no! It’s just... that attack on you was so vicious... so brutal, I could barely stand to watch. I know you spent several weeks in the hospital, and you’re cleared to compete, but there’s always question marks the first match back. You have a bright future ahead of you, Rori. I don’t want it to be darkened because you returned to the ring too early, and I certainly don’t want it to be because of me.”
[Small sigh]
“But the more I think about it, the more I realize that you’re a big girl. You’re capable of making your own decisions. You know your own body better than anyone, and if it’s telling you to step in that ring, then I’ll be more than honored to be the one to climb into the opposite corner. But if there was one bit of truth in that rant my manager wrote, it’s that I don’t hold back in a match. To give anything less than a hundred percent would be disrespectful to you, to our bosses who set this contest up, and to the fans who gave up both money and time to watch me wrestle.”
[That small, soft smile returns]
“Respect. It’s the hottest commodity in professional wrestling. More valuable than titles, or purse money, or any other accolade that can be bestowed upon us. Respect is the lifeblood of this sport. It’s what gives the belts we pursue meaning. It’s what makes the fans shell out their hard earned wages to watch people such as you and I compete. Without the respect for what we do, these arenas would be empty. Without the respect for our sport and our heritage, the belts we covet would be little more than shiny trinkets. It’s sad, and alarming how many people in this business forget that.”
[Wendy pauses for just a second, and looks away]
“But I don’t think you have, Rori, and I hope you never do. You don’t seem like you became a wrestler because of the money, or the power, or the endless opportunities it offers to hurt people. No, you became a wrestler for the right reasons- because it’s something you feel you’re good at, and it’s something you generally enjoy.”
[You know, when psychotic Italian bitches aren’t carving her up like a turkey]
“And that’s why I respect you, Rori Snyder. You’re a fellow Gotham Girl, like me, a child of Manhattan Island. But more importantly, you’re a fighter. And from the looks of things, you’ve been a fighter all your life.”
[Wendy shrugs, and looks up at the sky for a brief moment]
“In a way, I kind of envy you. When I started in this industry, the only thing I could draw on was my background in dance. Pro-wrestling was the first athletic competition I had ever done. And the promoters of the indy companies I was in... they didn’t care that I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. They threw me into the ring to be destroyed each night, figuring that all I was good for was making their better wrestlers look dominating. It was a trial by fire, and how I managed to get through it, and be where I am today, I’ll never know.”
[Wendy sighs, not quite able to keep the bitterness out of her voice.]
“You have the training of your uncle, and the knowledge you gained in your four years on the high school wrestling team to help you. Not to mention the training you received as a Future Shock rookie. But I know it’s been a frustrating few months for you. The transition from the mat-based amateur competition to the near anything-goes style of the professional ranks is a hard one, and you’re not the first person I’ve seen struggle with it.”
[Wendy nods sympathetically]
“Keep at it Rori. Because I can tell from looking at you that after four matches in FFW, you’re way ahead of where most people would be at that point. You’ve taken some tough losses, but you’re getting better with each passing match. And don’t get discouraged. Because unfortunately...”
[A small sad smile from Wendy]
“Unfortunately, if I have my way, Thursday night is going to end in another disappointment for you. I have goals of my own that I must achieve, and if the road to those goals is through you, then that’s the way it has to be.”
[Wendy grimaces]
“Truth be told, I do feel relatively confident about this match. If I let this turn into a mat-wrestling competition, I will be in trouble. But I don’t think Rori has the all-around versatility or depth that I do, and neither the experience. Rori, can you keep up with me? Will you know the proper dodge or reversal when I come flying in with a springboard? Will you be able to sustain my kicks to your legs, attacks designed to knock your base, so important in your mat-based game, out from under you? Can you handle a barrage of knees as we’re locked in a clinch? And if I should manage to clamp a submission on you, can you maintain the will and tenacity to find a way out of it?”
[Wendy looks directly at the camera]
“Are you up for the challenge, Rori? Because I’m confident in saying that I’m nothing like what you’ve faced in the ring so far. I’m not as brutal and sadistic as Raven Wicked. I’m not as acrobatic and unpredictable as Belladonna. I’m not as... well, anything like Twisted Path or Destiny Loveheart. But what I am, is someone who knows her stregnths, and can use them to her advantage. I don’t need sadism, I don’t need all the acrobatics. I just need the skills and technique I’ve spent the better part of the last decade honing. And *those*, Rori, you will see in full array on Thursday night.”
[Wendy looks away again, out over the back yard]
“But there’s a reason we wrestle the matches, and not let what the tale of the tape decide things. You’re learning the pro-style game, and you are developing a dangerous repetoire, any one of those moves can swing things into your favor. And that finisher of yours will be nothing short of the end of me if I get hit with it. Don’t think that because I might have the upper hand in many facets of this match, that I’m overlooking you.”
[Wendy takes a deep breath, and one more look up at the sky, another smile forming on her face]
“Rori, just do me a favor. Bring everything you have to that ring Thursday night, because I will be doing so myself. Let’s give the FFW fans a match that leaves no doubt in anyone’s minds what Wendy Briese and Rori Snyder are capable of.”
[Wendy turns back to the camera, her smile remains, but becomes a little harder, and more determined.]
“And may the best woman win.”
[Fade]
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