Body Slammed! (22 page)

“I bet he freaked out, right?” Mamba laughed. “I remember when he was a little kid, Jesse used to run away whenever he saw you with the skeleton face make-up. How's he doing? Still playing football?”

Solomon Grimm came up the same corridor. He and Mamba shook hands, as wrestlers typically do, after they've fought each other.

“Good match, Karl.”

“Yeah, likewise.” Mamba rubbed his chest. “Next time, go a little easier on those chops, Herman. Would ya? They're brutal.”

“Hey, dat's how I play da game,” Grimm replied without apologies. “I owe it to my fans to . . . Geez, Mark, is dat you?”

“You're looking at the newest addition to the roster, Herman,” Mamba said. “Meet Elijah Nightshade.”

While they were talking, Wes Meir walked up to Mark and said, “Get ready. You're on in three minutes.”

“Here, Herman. Help Karl with his mask,” Mark said. “I've got to go.”

He followed Wes down the hall and stopped in front of his dressing room. Before he turned the knob, he lowered his head and took a deep breath. “I can't do this, Wes.”

Wes Meir wheeled around. “What's the matter, Mark? Is the door locked?”

“No. I . . . I can't do this anymore.”

Wes blinked with surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“I can't go out there. I've had it. I need to go home.”

“What? Come on, Mark. Quit kidding around. You're up in less than two minutes.”

Mark opened his dressing room door and trudged inside.

“Go get Frank!” Wes frantically told a crew member. “Hurry!”

Mark's dressing room was empty. Marv, Cassandra and Carlos had gone to the main dressing room with the other performers. Mark picked up his cell phone and started to make a call when Frank and Wes burst into the room.

“What's the problem, Mark?” Frank asked.

“I'm done, Frank. I've got to go home. Jesse needs me.”

“But, Mark, we've got a show to put on. Jesse will be okay. Didn't you say he and TJ were in a hospital? You can leave here right after the show.”

“Hospital?” Wes said. “What are Jesse and TJ doing in a hospital? Were they in an accident or something?”

Ignoring him, Mark said, “You don't understand, Frank. I don't want to do this anymore. I'm not in any shape to go out in front of the audience.”

“Okay, um . . . we'll kill the promo,” Frank said, realizing he had no choice. He turned to Wes. “Find Carlos and Marv and Cassandra. Tell them that we're putting off the Elijah Nightshade segment until tomorrow. We'll do it on
Monday Night Mayhem
.”

“No, Frank. You're not hearing me,” Mark said. “I'm quitting. I'm retiring. As of right now, I no longer work for the ACW.”

Frank's jaw dropped. “Mark, you're not being sensible. We've got big plans for you.”

“Doesn't matter. Sorry, Frank, but I need to be with my boy.”

Frank had known this day was coming. Mark had talked about it many times. He just hadn't expected for it to happen this way. But by the look in Mark's eyes, and the tone in his voice, he knew that nothing he said was going to change Mark's mind. No need to berate him. No need to threaten him with talk about a breach of contract.

Frank embraced his long-time friend and said, “That's okay, Mark. Go home. Take care of Jesse. We'll figure something out.”

EPILOGUE

O
n Monday, December twelfth, Jesse celebrated his seventeenth birthday. His grandmother had told him he could invite a few friends over after school for dinner and birthday cake.

Jesse and Wally walked hand in hand down the sidewalk. Goose, Wendell and Bucky trailed behind them.

When Jesse arrived home, he saw a black Dodge Challenger sitting in his grandparents' driveway. He couldn't believe TJ had driven all the way from Amarillo to visit him on his birthday.

“Come on, I want you to meet someone,” Jesse told Wally.

They hurried up the walkway. But just as they reached the steps, Jesse's parents and grandparents came out of the house.

“Surprise!” they shouted.

Jesse looked at them, confused. He had known that his mother would be flying in from Dallas for his birthday so that wasn't really a surprise. He greeted her with a hug and a kiss, then introduced her to Wally.

“Where's TJ?” he asked his father.

“TJ? He's not here.”

“Then what's his car doing in the driveway?”

His father grinned. “That's not his car, champ. It's yours.”

“What?”

“Happy birthday.”

“Holy cats!” Wally cried.

“Holy cats!” Bucky echoed.

“
Hijo
,” Goose said.

Wendell let out a soft whistle.

Jesse gawked at the car. “Dad, are you serious?”

“TJ told me how much you loved his car, so I figured you might enjoy having one like it.”

Jesse wrapped his arms around his father, something he hadn't done in a long time. “Thanks, Dad. This is the most awesome present I've ever gotten.”

His father handed him the keys. “I thought, what's the use in having a driver's license if you don't have a car to drive?”

Jesse walked around the car and studied its features: black exterior and a black leather interior; dual round headlamps, cast aluminum wheels and a 5.7L HEMI engine. It was the most beautiful car he had ever seen.

“Take us for a ride,” Goose said.

Jesse looked at his father.

He smiled and said, “Go ahead.”

“Don't be gone too long,” his grandmother said. “Supper will be ready soon.”

Jesse and his friends got inside his car—Jesse and Wally in front and the guys in the back. Jesse gripped the steering wheel and breathed in the new-car smell. He looked out the window and saw his mother and father standing together, smiling and waving at him. His eyes grew misty. If only they could be that way all the time.

“Um, I've never driven a car, Jessup,” Wally said. “But I think you're supposed to put the key in the ignition to make it go.”

Jesse sniffled. “That's what they tell me,” he said.

Wally noticed the tears in his eyes. “Are you okay, Jessup?”

“Yeah, my allergies are acting up, that's all.” Jesse wiped his eyes and sniffled again.

Wally looked at Jesse's parents and understood the reason for the tears. She kissed Jesse on the cheek and said, “There's a lot of that going around. But don't worry. I've got something that'll take care of it.” She reached into her messenger bag and took out a piece of peppermint candy.

Jesse popped it in his mouth. He turned on the ignition and asked, “Where do you guys want to go?”

“Take her out on the highway,” Goose said. “Let's see what this baby can do.”

“I'd better not,” Jesse said. “I don't need any more trouble from the law.”

“Let's go see Christmas lights,” Bucky suggested. “There's a neighborhood near the mall where people go all out to decorate their houses.”

“Naw, man,” Goose said. “That's the kind of stuff you take little kids to see.”

“Just drive,” Wendell said. “It doesn't matter where we go.”

Jesse pulled out of the driveway and took his friends around the neighborhood. His best friends. They must have been his best friends if they kept forgiving him for being such a jerk.

Jesse had spoken to TJ only once since the attack. TJ didn't offer any apologies for the trouble he had caused him. Mainly he complained about how he was afraid of losing his spot once he returned to the ACW, if he was allowed to return at all. TJ was afraid that the ACW officials would lose interest in him and not renew his contract. Mark had always spoken up for him, but now that he was gone from the company, there was no one else TJ could count on for support. Jesse chatted with him for about ten minutes, but he found he had little to say to TJ.

After a few minutes of driving, Jesse headed back to his house.

His grandmother fixed his favorite meal,
mole
with rice and beans. After they had eaten, Jesse's grandmother brought out a birthday cake. His father picked up his guitar and led those who knew the words in singing
Las Mañanitas
, as well as
The Birthday Song
.

At eight o'clock, everyone sat in the den to watch
Monday Night Mayhem
.

On television, Elijah Nightshade stood in the center of the ring with Brother Jeremiah and Sister Ruth at his side. Throughout his seventeen-year career, Marvin Snider had wrestled as Marv “the Whip” Snider, the Constable, the Golden Gladiator, Demented Devlin Dredd, and now, Elijah Nightshade. He wore a white suit with a white shirt and white tie. His hair and eyebrows had been dyed white, and white contact lenses covered the irises in his eyes.

With a microphone in his hand, he made the following proclamation before the packed Van Andel Arena in Grand Rapids, Michigan:

The wicked have remained unpunished; their hearts are replete with sin,

They bask in the shadows of darkness; no light goes out or in.

But we shall expose their transgressions, as we continue our crusade;

All sinners shall answer to the Assembly and to the prophet Elijah Nightshade!

Molly turned to Mark and made a face. “Did you write that?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. I've been writing Marv's promos while Harold is on vacation. Hopefully Harold will come up with better material once he returns.”

“Do you miss it?” Molly asked.

“Performing? No, not really.”

“There's no ‘not really,'”
Jesse heard Officer Padilla say in his mind.

“Besides, I have plenty of things to do to keep me busy. Like taking Jesse to the Spurs games. Right, champ?”

“Right,” Jesse said, smiling.

“So are you still going to buy the Pro Wrestling Factory from Ox Mulligan?” Molly asked.

“I don't know yet. Ox is getting up in years, but he doesn't want to shut down the wrestling school. He's made me a great offer, but I've never trained anyone. I'm not sure what kind of teacher I would be.”

Molly patted Mark on the back. “I think you'll make a great one.”

Jesse turned to them and said, “Hey, I just realized something. If Dad buys the wrestling school, you'll both be teachers.”

Molly rose from the couch. “Speaking of teaching, I need to get back to Dallas. I've got to work tomorrow.” She picked up her purse. “Mark, can you give me a ride to the airport?”

He looked at her with pleading eyes and asked, “Why don't you stay here tonight? Call your principal and tell him you won't be in tomorrow.”

“I . . . I can't,” she said with a shake of her head.

Mark stood and took her hand. “Let's go to the kitchen where we can talk privately. I have some things I'd like to discuss with you.”

On television, as Elijah Nightshade finished his promo, “O Fortuna” played in the background. The arena lights darkened and a white, blinding light emanated from the top of the stage. Elijah Nightshade and the Assembly exited the ring and made their way toward it.

They paused at the stage entrance and gazed up at the audience. Elijah Nightshade left the crowd with these parting words:

Turn away from your wickedness, let your hearts be contrite. Lest you pay dearly, until you see the light.

Jesse touched his forehead and said to himself, “Amen, brother. Amen.”

Also by Ray Villareal

Alamo Wars

Don't Call Me Hero

My Father, the Angel of Death

Who's Buried in the Garden?