Idioms

Dr. Abigail Tenor
“ Excuse me, but this is a private- ”

Vhodka Black
“ I know! Listen, l, I need your advice. See. I kinda sorta..completely fucked something up. ”

So it was a while back. I wasn’t exactly snooping around Vin’s stuff, but I was doing precisely that, and I found a phone. At first I was like ‘oh no second cell phone he’s got a side piece.’ Although to be honest he doesn’t really like side dishes so much, he’s more of a second helping of the main dish. Or if he is having side dishes it’s like only the side dish. This is a metaphor for something I’m sure but let me move on. I recognized the phone. It was Murphy’s.

“ Who is Murphy? ”

“ Oh, EyeDeeKay, Just my BeeEffEff! ”

Anyway, I miss him, you know? He’s my friend, and I don’t really have a lot of those. So I plugged it in to see the videos he took of us going paintballing that time. If you’ve never been I highly suggest it. But also, do it on an actual paintball field because they get really upset when you do it in a baby gapl. So I plug the phone in, and I’m swiping through the photos when all these texts start coming through. And they’re all from her. And they aren’t old ones. They’re new. And they’re current. And one is a fucking address. And that was all I needed to see.

So I drove there. I drove all the way there. And I saw her. She was walking around like she has the right to, and it isn’t a gift from me to her to let her. And everything in me is telling me to go and run her over, Or to bash her head in. But then I saw her face.

It was the face that congratulated me when I got married. The face that helped me find a car he’d been looking for forever. The face that I remember telling me that it was going to work out. It wasn’t the other one. The angry one. That rageful asshole that…did what they did. And I don’t know if it was my love for her or him but I backed off.

I didn’t tell him. I was afraid to. I was afraid he’d go to her and she’d be all ‘she’ again, and she’d hurt him. No one gets to hurt him, Doc. No one. But now, I feel like by not telling him, I set him up for this. For her coming back like that. Like I should have told him, he could have been ready? But I don’t know, I was afraid.

I was afraid she’d come back and I wouldn’t be able to forgive her. That i’d be the one stopping him from having her back. So I leaned into it? I don’t know. And considering that he can’t find his other sister, I should have at least told him I found one? So now I have to apologize and I don’t know how! How do I do it? How do I tell this man I could have solved an issue, but through my own god damn greed, made it a bigger one?

“ I’m sorry, I don’t know your husband so I- ”

Vincent Black
“ Actually that would be me. ”

-x-
“ 3rd time’s the charm. That’s what people say any time a 3rd occurance of any kind happens. Doesn’t matter what it is or how many chances there are for it to happen again. Have a third kid or get a third car? 3rd time’s the charm. 3rd house, 3rd marriage, 3rd whatever. 3rd time’s the charm. It’s always the same. I don’t like that, Allen. I don’t like the people who use it, nor the people who agree when they hear it. They stand for nothing but a half ass reply. Something to say, not for the purpose of communication. But for the act of filling the silence. And That's with most idioms, isn’t it? Idioms, in case you didn’t know, are sayings that have worked their way into the vernacular of our speech and over time, lose all meaning and accuracy, yet we still say them. It’s almost as bad as the boasts we all seem to be so in love with in this business, that after all we’ve been through, we still believe them. We’ve all should have learned by now, but I guess we only do that in small doses, huh? A little learning is a very dangerous thing, I suppose. Let me give you a lot of learning on a subject you might be ignorant to. Losing to you in the Battle Royal was not the world crushing defeat for me that it would have been for you. I’d say it was more of a Blessing In Disguise.

“ Not sure if you were too busy celebrating to notice, but the woman you lost the tournament to, my wife, and the number one consumer of pop tarts in the world, defeated the former champion and current valet for the more talented one of their family, to obtain PWE’s highest honor, The Excellence Championship. Tell me, Allen, how would it look for me, her loving husband to obtain the shot at her newly acquired title at the same PPV? I’d tell you but I’m sure you’d know how it would go over with the rest of the roster. The reactions, the crying, the weeping this wet mouth whelps would spew. Would they get over it or get on with it? Can’t say. But I can say that having the new woman walk in and walk past every other competitor, just to have her first opponent be her husband who just got here too, would just be adding insult to injury. ”

“ And that was part of what I was aiming for, Allen. To win the chance to stand in front of my wife and stop the rest of you from getting to her. Not to protect her, Allen. To anger you. Not you-you. But all of you. I don’t want to be vulgar but I could sin for hours thinking about the looks on all of your faces as you try to cope with the guy who recently got here stopping you from reaching the woman who just got here. Honestly, when you examine the situation, it doesn’t get much better by me not winning. I’ve had what, 4 matches here, two of which with you? I’ve lost both of them. And one of those losses was still me being better than how many others in this business? Not a bad consolation prize, as far as they go. Especially when the more important part of the plan went off, without a hitch.”

“ Allen. Answer me something. What kind of threat are you? Most people don’t have the ability to evaluate themselves, not in any way that’s honest. So let me stop beating around the bush, and do it for you. You’re not her caliber. Not from what I’ve seen. Not from what I know. She might not look like much to the untrained eye, aka yours. But to those who do; she is a beast. You and your ilk in PWE are a dime a dozen. And the cost of not seeing that she isn’t is far more than an arm and a leg. It’s cost is pride. ”

“ Allen, if you were to guess where I was going with this, would you be able to get there? Would you understand and reach the obvious conclusion to this bit of information on your own, or do you need me to hold your hand the way Damian needs Tayla? As your ‘inferior,’ I feel it’s my duty to inform you that while you may be a big fish in a puddle, someone else in that match was far more of a target than you ever would be. And as always actions speak louder than words. And so do inactions, Allen. Especially in this case.”

“ I wanted to win. I want you to be sure of that. You beat someone who genuinely wanted to be the winner. But more so, I wanted to make damn sure someone else didn’t. And that man was not you, Allen. It was a man who if I cut down to size, would still be twice as much of a threat as you. A man who is a bite that you can’t chew. And that man is Shawn Warstein.”
-x-

So After her little planned interruption of our session yesterday, we drove home pretty much in silence. She knew I was…less than pleased…by her decision to withhold information from me. And I knew that she was dug in and ready to defend this decision until her knees snapped in two. So instead, I just drove.

When we got home, she took a shower, and after a bit of silently enjoying others' company, she kissed me on the forehead and went to bed. I remember watching her slink away into the back of the house. And the second I knew she was asleep. I went to work.

The first one was chocolate with vanilla cream. Second was Vanilla with strawberry. After that I got a little more reckless with it. Pistachio cream and dark chocolate. 3 Citrus cake with meringue center. When I was done, I had 11 cakes. Fully baked, and decorated. It looked like a bakery. I like baking. I’m good at it. But I rarely have an occasion to do so. For the last 11 years, I missed the best one I could have had.

I woke her up gently, and asked her to follow me in the kitchen. When she saw all of them, the look in her eyes was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. And I’ve seen her look at a World Title.

“ …what are those? ”

“ These are birthday cakes.”

“ It's not my birthday? ”

“ The cakes don’t know that. And they’re not for this birthday. One for every year I missed. One for every year you celebrated being on this earth that I wasn’t by your side.”

“ …gonna fucking eat all of these.”

“ I’m very proud of you. I know you take this business seriously, but people had their doubts. They don’t have them anymore. ”

“ This feels like you’re buttering me up. ARE THESE CAKES A BRIBE!? ”

“ No, No. These cakes are genuine. ”

“ Good. Because I’m going to hurt her, Vin. I am going to find her, and I am going to do to her what I should have done the last time. She’s already made it clear she back to fuck with you again.”

“ I ask that you do not. ”

“ VIN.”

“ Fran.”

“ You balked the last time sh- ”

“ She’s my business, Fran. You have the world title to think about. Giving her access to you is more than she deserves, yeah? Give me your word you’ll let me handle this. ”

“ I give you my word, I won’t touch her. I know that’s not what you asked but that’s what I’m offering. I won’t lay a hand on her. ”

“ Swear on the birthday cakes. ”

“ …I swear on the birthday cakes. ”

I kissed her on the forehead, well aware of the devil's agreement I’d just made with her. I’m not a fool. I know my wife and I know that she’s going to use the verbiage of our agreement to her advantage. But I also know she’ll stay out of it, and that’s all I want.

Well. Not all.
-x-
“ By all measures Allen, Shawn Warstein and I have precisely zero issues with one another. I felt no threat from him nor did he from myself. In fact, I would say that Shawn Warstein is currently well above my level. I’ve not re-established myself well enough to be at his level, nor has he lowered himself to mine. But who he is on the level of is our new and glorious champion, Allen. I decided the second that I saw his name in the proverbial hat, that I had one job, and it I was to not let him anywhere near my wife. Not until he earned it. So I made it my mission, Allen. To ensure that he did not get the chance to face her. And while I expect gratitude, I didn't do it for you. This was a best of both worlds sort of deal, Allen. She gets an easy opponent, and I get to keep Shawn Warstein below a level occupied by you. Two Birds, One Stone. While you bite off more than you can chew, Shawn watches the Main Event from the monitors like a Couch Potato. ”

“ That is my game, Allen. That’s my reasoning. The drive to be the next in line, It isn’t in me. Truth be told Allen, I don’t feel like a fighter anymore. I feel like an astronaut who somehow got lost in the past. And instead of the future tech that got me there, the flying metal and the combustion engines, I am sitting in the dirt playing with sticks with neanderthals. I know what it takes to do the things I’ve done, but I don’t have any of it at my disposal anymore. I’ve seen the future, Allen. I was the future. And now I’m here facing a guy who I believe in more than he does himself. For the third god damn time. And you know what bothers me most about that, funny man? That it’s not going to make a lick of difference to you. That no matter how many times you beat a man like myself, you will always be one bad day away from leaving forever. Because you were close. You know it. I know it. That you’d have walked away rather than weather than storm. It isn’t easy. I know. It’s difficult to look at yourself in the mirror and be disappointed in who and what you see. Because I do it every day. ”

“ I walked away from this business at the height of my career, and they discounted me as a fluke. Yet I’m still here. I watched as my brother rose to the top tier of this business and left me in the shadows beneath him, yet, I am still here. I have been beaten and attacked by friends and family alike, I have held tightly onto my dreams with white knuckle tightness that would break a lesser man’s hand, and I am still here. Because that is what I do, Allen. I do not win championships, nor do I join the coolest new stable and take over promotion after promotion. I simply stay here, ever ready and ever present. You may not be able to say I am the hardest or baddest or even the scariest man in this business, but I’ll always be able to say that I’M STILL HERE. Will you? ”
-x-

We went to bed shortly after she fulfilled her promise to eat each and every cake. I tried to put as much of the cake away myself, but she has a black hole for a stomach doesn’t seem to gain weight. I work out almost as much as Dane Preston sans the post workout throupling. Watching her eat piece after piece was impressive. But not the most impressive thing she did that night. I’ll spare you the details.

But the point; I woke up about two hours after I finally went to sleep to my phone ringing and several missed calls from an unknown number. I answered the next one, and when I did, I was glad. I’d began faxing photos of my sister Marty to every hospital, every rehab, everywhere I could think someone might be held for a considerable amount of time. And finally, Finally, The squeeze produced some juice. But after all the searching I did, where I found her made me wish I’d either found her sooner, or not at all.

The Oasis was an alcohol and drug rehab on one side of its enormous building, and a psych ward on the other. It was located on Staten island, a few miles from the house we grew up in. Clever girl left all her identification at home, hiked a few blocks to the old movie theater parking lot, and..walked down the road, so to speak.

EMT’s found her in time, but when she came to the ER, she was less than enthused. She’d been there the entire time. I’d driven past it a handful of times during my business on Staten Island. And all the while, there she was.

It took me fifteen minutes to remove everything I had on me that they felt posed a threat to anyone in the visitation room. When I entered, I could smell the sadness. It soaked into the floor and the walls. It was a film that covered every surface and seemed to ooze out of every pore. It made my shoes squeak as I walked. Sitting at this table with all of the screws covered in rubber, and I wait for what seems like forever.

And then she enters.
-x-
“ It’s no secret to anyone, Allen. You lost the chance to fight for the title and you lost your mind. Half of the locker room knew you were one foot out the door. Half the locker room took one look at you and said ‘he’s going to cave and walk off.’ But I knew otherwise. I knew you could turn this around because you’re like me. You’ve seen failure and you’ve seen soul crushing defeat and you got back up and came back. And as much as I believe in you, Allen. My belief is waning.”

“ It isn’t because you deny it, Allen. If I were you I’d swear a blood oath to the contrary of everything, too. It’s because you’re on the precipice of starting your mental descent all over again. This isn’t the failure of some tv show. This is you, being denied the chance of fighting for a world championship by a newcomer to your home. A newcomer, who I might add, you have no goddamn respect for. This is about you, going on to win a chance at said title, only to watch the woman who beat you previously, take that title you so whole heartedly wished to get your hands on. Wish in one hand, shit in the other, Allen. And see which one fills up first. ”

“ This will probably be our last fight for a while, Allen. You will be on to bigger and better things, and I will do what I do, and continue to fight at this level you are gladly leaving behind. But if you were smart. If you were wise. You’d shirk your title fight, sell it off, pawn it, and remain right here. As deadly as the past few weeks have been for you, as hard as it has been for you to swallow, it is about to get a lot worse. Turn on your heels and look at reason, Allen. Stay here and fight me. Don’t be one of those people who rise to the level of their own incompetence. Stay here, and Pick on someone your own size.”
-x-
She entered the room and was furious at the very sight of me. I wish I could blame her. I wish I could say that I didn’t deserve it. She tried to turn back around, but they wouldn’t let her. There are few things more difficult than convincing a woman who’s mad at you to be the opposite.

“ Hi, Marty. ”

“ hi? Really? Hi, Vin! …why are you here? ”

Her fake enthusiasm lit her face up and in that moment I am reminded of her childhood. The foster system had taught me a thing or two about being cynical, but she taught me the rest. I told her I was there to make sure she was ok. That I was there worried. And that I was sorry. She laughed at me. She laughed at me and told me I was a…many things. None of them pleasant. I sat there and I let her. I let her tell me all of the things I had been, and done, and should have. She reminded me of how often she’d tried to help. How she tried so hard to be a part of my life. I was prepared for that part. She was right. But..then she said something I wasn’t prepared for. Something that never crossed my mind..

“ All these years, you acted like you were the only one who was hurt. Like you had the fucking monopoly on misery. He hurt all of us, Vin. All of us. He just hurt you different. He got mom one way, and me another. And if we tried to stop him from hurting you, or each other, we got it worse. But that’s the thing isn’t it. We tried to stop him. We got beaten worse and worse but we tried. You could have. And. You. Left.The absolute second you were big enough to stand up, you walked away. Do you think it all got better after that? Do you think his fucking mood improved? Should I show you the x-rays? The fucking permenant indents to my legs and arms? Have you ever seen Mom’s back? Where the fuck were you when he put her in the hospital, you selfish fucking asshole. And now you want to apologize?? You piece of shit, since when are you capable of sorrow!? ”

She made a great point, A point I had no intent on arguing,. Because I couldn’t.

Because she was right.

With Marty I’d been a terrible brother. The moment I could have defended her, that I could have ended her misery. I left. I was a terrible husband, friend, and brother. I have been terrible at everything I’ve ever done. My disconnection, the self imposed disconnection, has put me at odds with every single person who has ever tried to love me. I have no memories of my birth mother giving me away. But I do believe that I had a connection with my brother, Xavier, that lasted beyond the womb. And when they separated us, something locked down in me. Something I’ve never spent a single moment trying to release. I just allowed myself to become worse and worse until I ruined every aspect of my life in one way or another. Well, mostly.

I like to think I'm a good dad. I like to think that being a father is the thing I do best, actually. Why is it that I am able to connect with my children so easily, with my brother Xavier so easily and my other sister S…But not Marty? Do I blame her? Or is it because she saw me at my weakest? Do I still need to be perceived as strong after all of this bullshit? Or is it about the quality of the relationships? I have sat and thought and thought about it and I think I know what it is. It’s the effort. With my kids they see me as a good and fair person. With my brother Xavier and my other sister, they know I’m always there. But with my foster sister, and my foster mother, just like the fans…There’s work. I have to try. I have to be genuine. I have to put in all of this effort. Effort that would be worth it, or at least should feel like it’s worth it. And as I felt every part of me tell myself that wasn’t true. That nothing could ever change enough, I did what only my wife is capable of doing. I told myself to shut the fuck up.

“ I’ve always been capable, Marty. I just didn’t allow myself to show it. If my dispassionate disposition has made you feel one way or the other, I’m sorry. I know, I know, I can’t make it right. I can’t change who I was or how I was. All I can do is try to make it…different. And I’m going to. You have my word. ”

I stood up and looked down at her. Her bandaged wrists, her greasy hair and bags beneath the eyes and I tried to smile. To show her a kind face from a source she’d rarely seen it on. And I nodded at the guard at the door.

“I’m sorry to have to go. They only allow 20 minute visits.”

“ ..oh whatever, it’s only been ten. You jus-- ”

She turned in her seat so fast. Looking at the doorway that her mother…our mother…stood in. The tears started to fall, and I bowed down and gave her a kiss on her greasy head. While there I could see the claw marks she’d most likely given herself in fits of rage all along her scalp. Her anger was apparent in every part of her form and seeing this much we had in common made me want to weep.

“ How did she get here? ”

“ I drove her. ”
-x-
“ When I was a child I had a stutter. It was not slight, to put it mildly. I had kids in my school that also had them and they would tell me how good their tutor was, and how he could help me. One day, my stutter went away. And every kid in school wanted to know who my speech tutor was. I told them he was too expensive for their family, despite my family being the poorer of the neighborhood. Truth was, my father took me into the basement, and handed me a book. Every sentence I read, should I stutter, he’d beat me within an inch of my life. Punches to the stomach, punches to the head. It got so bad that he made my mother take me to the ER, and tell them I fell from a tree house, so he could stay home and actually begin building the tree house. They investigated, and found no reason to remove me from the home. Don’t thank my father, thank a social worker. ”

“ It got to the point that I didn’t stutter because I never spoke. I held my tongue and silenced pretty much every word that came to mind. I shut down utterly and completely. And then I just never stopped. If I was sad, I’d bury it. If I was mad, I’d bury it. I buried everything. Resentment, jealousy, loneliness, everything. But emotions are funny things. You can bury them all you want but in the end all they do is come back as rage. And I had built myself a very impressive garden of just and only that. If I had marked paths for the things I grew from my life you’d see how as the years increased, so did my crop. From a small planters box all the way up to a field the size of a football field. When I started tilling this land, I was closer to happiness. As I looked upon it as an adult, I could not find my way back towards that with a GPS. So I realize now, I have to dig. ”

“ I have to dig up the past, bit by bit and actually resolve these issues, examine my behavior, and own the parts of which I created, rather than cursing those who were either barely involved or simply the catalyst. It’s called personal responsibility. And until I do, I won’t be able to connect with anyone. I won’t be the next big fan favorite of this business. Hell, I’m barely the favorite when I’m in a room by myself, so how can i expect anyone else to care about me, when I’ve spent every waking moment of my life, not doing it either? ”

“ Allen, I don;t think we can be friends. I don’t think any amount of soul searching on my part is going to lessen the disgust I get from watching you barely care about who you are. But I do know that the two of us are entangled. I know that we’ve got our own paths, and maybe they’ll never meet up again. But I’d ask that you do your best to ensure they do. Don’t be a contendor. There is no joy in that. Stay here. Beat me some more, and replace me as my own worst friend, and my best enemy. ”
-x-

She missed the small apartment. It was the size of a bathroom in her old home, But it was hers. And now she could never go back. Stupid robbery had ruined everything. One moron meth head from florida with a gun had been all it took to reveal her location.

They might have missed the news, they might have ignored it. But a woman of her size, and her ability taking down an armed robber? Hard to ignore.

Even harder to ignore? Her very specific dental pattern being on the robber's arm and shoulder? Damn near impossible.

She could not remember a lot of what happened after they’d…dealt with her. Did they take dental impressions? It was what she would do. She would have planted a tracker on her, too.

After all this, they were going to know where to find her again. And they were going to.

The Bus jerks as it pulls out, and she grips the small bag of belongings, an envelope full of photos and a small pillow to her chest, and hopes wherever this bus takes her, it’s at least the best of the worst places she’s ever been.