April 17, 2009
9:45 am
When I hung up that phone, I hung my head. I couldn’t really believe what had just happened to me. I didn’t have enough time to think about it before I was crushed beneath a wave of disappointment and depression that swallowed me whole. The entire thing left me feeling, well, nothing, and I hated it.
“What really just happened?” I asked myself as I let my body slide down the wall and come to a rest, lying on the floor of my kitchen. I hoped against hope that it was just a dream that is was in, something I could wake from and forget before breakfast. Alas, my situation was more permanent than the dream I dreamed of. If I could have answered that harmless little question, maybe I wouldn’t have found myself on the cold, dirty linoleum floor.
It had been a whirlwind adventure since that fateful call some morning some two and a half years ago. A period of time so busy that this was really the first time I stopped to look for something that might resemble progress. No, there must be something; I have grown between then and now. And I had to grow fast. My training was cheap, and I learned that you get what you pay for. It was a crash course in crashing, and a kick in the ass. I didn’t have more than two months training behind me before I was thrust out in front of an audience. They sent me out there without a way to relate to those people, and into a ring with veterans who proved all too happy to help me pay those dues they spoke of.
I still laugh every time I think of the faces on the ladies at the office when I would walk in on Monday morning, with a new cut, bruise or bump on mine. By Friday everything would be better, and it was time to get beat up again. I could have used another good laugh. Something to shake me from the stupid stupor I found myself in. And then my pants began to vibrate.
Picking myself up some, sitting now against the wall I let gravity draw me down minutes ago, and answered, “Hello?”
“Hey Chief, how’s it going?” And at that voice, a smile appeared on my lips. To tell you the truth, I was half expecting a return to the call that sent me spinning into confusion. The voice of a friend can sometimes be the most welcome of sounds.
“Hey Tommy, it is nice to hear from you man. Everything is going well here,” I lied to my friend. I am not the one to let other in on my misery. Bearing my own cross is what I do. “You?” I was quick to divert, less my depression somehow slip through my guard.
“Hey, can’t complain, you know? I was just wondering if we were still on for hitting up the carnival today.”
“Yeah, yeah, I almost forgot that it was today. Yeah man, I will be there. What time are you heading up there?”
“We should be up there around noon.”
“Alright man, noon it is. I will meet you at the gates.” We exchanged goodbyes and so longs, and I flipped close my cell phone. When I slipped my phone back into the pair of Wranglers I was wearing, I let slip the depression from the previous call. I looked busily for something to fill me time from then and noon.
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I looked at my watch for the third time since I showed up, and it only read: 11:52 am. This impatience was not usually my suit, and I was quick to attribute it to some osmosis of excitement as child after child passed by me, hurrying to their favourite ride. I passed the rest of the time by looking about rides that comprised this carnival, and wondering which ones might make me wear my breakfast.
I broke away from my game of what ifs just in time to see from the corner of my eye a streak of long brown hair darting my way. I bent down in time to catch her in my arms. I scooped up the four year old ball of energy, and turned to be greeted by a grinning Tommy Kowolski.
“Hello Uncle Mitch!” yelled the girl, having no regard for the lack of distance between her mouth and my ears. I just smiled as she wrapped her arms around my neck in an innocent embrace.
“Well, hello Emily. You seem to be getting taller every time I see you,” I said.
“Yeah, the kid is growing like a weed. It is good to see you man.”
“Couldn’t agree more Tommy, it’s been too long.” In between work and traveling to wrestling shows on the weekend, it had grown a bitch trying to find time to reconnect with the ones I loved. My parents would try to tell me it is just what happens to you when you get older, but I refused to believe it. I refused to agree with it. But here I was, seeing my goddaughter for the first time in a month. I used to visit her every other day.
It was not long before the attention span of a four year old appeared and little Emily was togging two grown men to the gates. We both just laughed and she led the way.
“Hey man, let me get this,” Tommy said, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.
“Nah, I think I still owe you one. It is my turn to pay.” And I pulled out my wallet.
We both stood looking at each other for a moment. That was until Emily grunted loud enough to express her confusion as to why she was not yet in the carnival. She was too young to understand the confrontation of two stubborn men with simple pride on the line. Eventually we reached a compromise where each party saw themselves paying for themselves alone. So then our hands were stamped with a silly red image too smudged for me to make out my own, but enough to have Emily giggling. The stare down was behind us as if we ourselves hadn’t noticed it. Friendship can be funny like that.
Emily’s eyes lit up with excitement as all the sounds and sights reached her, and I noted the little one was perplexed, as if she wanted to do everything at once, and could not figure out what was to be done first. I cherished the simple joy of a child and mourned the death of mine for a minute moment, before being whisked away to get tickets.
What is it with this place? I couldn’t help but be annoyed at the idea that someone would not accept my cash in exchange for cotton candy. No, I understood what they were doing. Five bucks for the sugary food stuff might outrage even more folks all that much more quickly, but if you tell them it is just three tickets, well they are happy to depart with little pieces of paper. I am on to you carneys!
I found myself going about on a merry-go-round, sitting perched atop a unicorn whose pink styling I would not have gone for, for any other reason than it was close to my friend and the little girl I loved. Our conversation carried on. “So, where is Mary today?” I enquired about Tommy’s wife.
“Actually, she is working today.” After seeing a puzzled look on my face, he continued, “Yeah, she got a new job. It really isn’t anything much. She is working as a receptionist for Dixon’s Accounting.”
“Good to hear, Tom. How does it work with the kid?”
“Just part time. She works when I don’t.” I was glad to hear that. Tommy himself worked a factory shift, the other seven to seven. It would be hard to find a job with such miserable hours, I thought.
The rest of the ride was spent chatting about just how bad a shift it was he worked. We talked about how he was looking for something else, but he’s been looking for something else for a year now. We talked about the silly high school mentality that we both thought would be left behind in high school. But for all our talking about just how bad it is, it was stable work, which in the face of this economic slowdown, was a blessing. It was that pay check that made him proud. It was how that pay checked made it possible for all of the things that get a smile out of the little girl that was growing bored with the slow up and down of the merry-go-round.
When the ride came to a stop, we hopped off and began the search for the next bit of fun to be had. And the little girl who had been calling the shots knew what she wanted next. However, when we made our way to the Zipper, flying round and round so high above, the little girl began to pout. The cut out at the front of the line extending his ‘must be taller than to ride’ hand just an inch above the brown mess of hair that sat on top of her head.
Tommy and I, after some time, were able to drag away the young one amongst cries of injustice and unfairness, and started walking around looking for something without the height restrictions. And then they found it. The Gravitron. They boarded, I bowed. The great ride had ruined me as a child. Eleven times, eleven times I repeat, straight. Eleven times on that ride and I was left with a permanent weak stomach. To just stand outside of it, and watch it spin made my gut some what queasy. And when they were done with the ride, they looked a little dizzy themselves.
“So, what’s new with yourself?” Tommy asked as we marched about the fairgrounds. “How goes the weekend wrestler?”
“Ha, it goes pretty well man. I’ve been learning a lot. Even been getting a nice little winning streak under my belt. Four W’s in a row now.” For which I received a golfer’s clap. Despite the little joke, Tommy was one of the few friends I had that appreciated the dream I was following, because it was his too. It was the dream we shared as children growing up, and part of the reason why we became fast friends in the first place.
“Are the old men still trying to rip your head off out there?”
“No more than usual. I can’t help but think that this little win streak is upsetting them even more. Ha,” I started laughing to myself at the thought, “I have even been gaining my own cheering section in those bars.”
“They throwing their panties at ya?”
“Ha, nah. That would be too weird, seeing as they are all guys.” A spot of disappointment on Tommy’s face reminded me of his side of the dream: get famous, get the girls. “They are really quite funny dudes. You should hear some of the chants they think of. A dedicated bunch, they even went so far as to make a highlight tape of me.”
“Wouldn’t happen to have a copy yourself, would ya? I have been dying to see if you are stealing my moves.”
“Ha, no, I don’t. And there might be a few moves you might recognize in there, but I do them so much better,” I jested. “They have been sending them around to the bigger leagues.” I stopped for a minute as that phone call emerged at the forefront of my head. “Worked too. I got a call today from one of them.”
“Hey man, that is great! How much they want to sign you for? You know that you got to spread some of that cash to the guy who taught you all your moves.” The joke was nice, and I wished that I had been offered any money, even though I know his pride would never let me help him out.
“Actually man, didn’t go that well.” His face sunk. “I got all flustered on the phone. It started out great. I think they were really into me. But then it happened. He asked me, me, why they should hire me, and I froze. I hung up on him.”
“Oh, dude, that’s harsh. I am sorry about that,” he said scratching the back of his head.
“Nah, don’t be. It was really too soon any how. I still got to hone the craft a little more before I hit the big times. Besides, I know my parents might flip if I do succeed in this game.”
My bashfulness was a sign to change the subject, and we did just that. We wondered around that fairground for hours, and enjoyed the fun that Emily was having, and the fun we ourselves had. I took the time to catch up on the most important things in the life of that little girl. At that moment it was about the ickiness of the boys in her kindergarten class, and some cartoon that I have never heard of.
At the end of the day we stood in front of one last game, and the little one still hadn’t won a stuffed bear. A wrong I decided I would right. The game was a game of toss, football to be specific. I spent what few tickets I had left, but I was excited to test out my arm. It has been some time since I was quarterback of my high school team. Sure it may have taken me five tries, but I still had it. And she got it. The bear I won was about the size of her, and made for a great photograph.
We made our way back out of the gates and parted. I drove home with a smile on my face. It was the first day off I had in some time, and the first time I think I had done anything constructive in my free time. I would hate to forget what these relationships mean to me. But I couldn’t help but wonder if I tried to keep things the way they were, everyone would out grow me.
If I were to stay were I was, would I still have friends? If I was to stay wrestling in bars on weekends, would I still have those fans? I concluded that was not likely. I thought that people saw in me a potential of greatness that they may share in. Claim a piece of me. Claim to know someone of importance, if only important to people like them. I vowed not to mess up like that again. I would drive myself to success in spite of myself.
When I got home, I was greeted by my family, returned for their days at work. I got about three feet inside the house before I was told I had a message, and so I went to the machine.
BEEP! “Hello, Mitchell. This is Dr. Kensington. I wanted you to know the SCCW was interested in you, but our call was disconnected this morning. Please give me a call back at…”
I was delighted with the thought that I had not cursed myself to wrestling the indies for the rest of my life. I was bombarded by questions by my family. I thought long and hard before returning that phone call.