‘Well, there’s a weird looking guy in the painting. Older guy, with long silvery hair, hollow bloodshot eyes, pale cadaverous looking face and scar that runs along the side of the face?’ She said she did and asked if he wasn’t gorgeous.
‘Yeah…yeah, a real cutie. Look, mom, there are no two ways to say this.’
I had wandered over to the window to get some privacy, a quick glance around told me that the others had slithered within ear-shot. I shooed them away angrily, and they retreated. ‘Well, he’s like…a dead ringer for my stalker.’ This was met with silence.
‘What?’ She said. I repeated myself pointedly. She sighed and said pointedly.
‘I saw this documentary about NFL players and how hits to their heads affect their mental state. I’m not so sure you should be wrestling anymore dearie.’
I looked to the heavens and glanced around, catching the trio of eaves-droppers craning their necks like Meerkats. Jude looked up in the sky, Sally checked her nails, and Jake started whistling.
I glared at them, covered the cell phone with my hands and said, ‘Do you mind? This is family business.’
They retreated again. ‘Mom,’ I said, ‘I’m perfectly fine. This dude that is stalking me looks exactly like the one you painted - well apart from the brown gown and glowing orb and corpses littered all around him.’
She was silent for what seemed to be an eternity. ‘Says who?’
‘Says, Sally, Jude, and Jay. They’ve all seen him, and they all say that it’s the same dude.’
I made an exasperated sound. ‘Jesus Mom, is he my Dad?’
‘No, he is most certainly not your Dad whatever gave you that idea?’
I glanced at Jay who couldn’t meet my eyes.
‘Well, why is the guy stalking me exactly like the guy you painted. Who is he?’ ‘Nobody Jay! I imagined him, and I painted him. It’s just art, he doesn’t exist. For heaven’s sake Jake, your dad was a good looking man. Like you, he had curly brown hair, slim athletic build, and dark eyes. He looks nothing like the guy in the picture!’
I suddenly felt ashamed and let out a sigh. I had had many crazy conversations with my eccentric mom, but this was right up there.
‘Besides,’ she continued, her voice softer, I painted that picture 24 years ago. Your Dad was only 28 then.’
‘Okay Mom, I’m sorry. But why does he look like my weirdo stalker dude.’
‘I don’t know, probably a coincidence. Is Sally there?’ I looked at Sally who mouthed a silent “no” and waved slim arms frantically. ‘Yes,’ I said evilly, ‘Do you want to speak with her?’ I handed the phone to Sally anxious to save face.
‘Hello Annie,’ Sally said walking into the kitchen.
‘You two guys are the biggest idiots ever. Told you that could never be my Dad, she painted it before I was born.’ I squared off on Jay and Jude.
‘Well, maybe she had a Sugar daddy…owww!’ The throw pillow bounced off Jay’s head. Bullseye! I thought.
‘Okay…okay. But he still looks like your stalker, and your Mom’s not right to be painting weird shit like that.’
Sally came back and handed me my phone. She licked her ruby red lips. ‘Well, that was embarrassing. She thinks Pretty Eddie hit you too hard and wants you to have a scan.’
‘No thanks to you guys,’ I replied sorely.
‘I’m going to bed. I’m beat.’ She leaned down and kissed me. ‘Don’t be too long.’
‘Are you going to be alright?’
I hated leaving her alone, but she insisted we continued our normal routine.
‘She’ll be fine,’ Jay said getting up. We were going to a local watering hole for a few beers.
‘Call me if he shows up again,’ I said a worried look on my face.
‘Oh just go already. I’ll be fine.’
Soon I was in my Ford, pulling out from the curb. A cold chill suddenly enveloped us, and I shivered. I looked up at our window, and a sudden feeling of foreboding tugged at me, raising the hairs in the back of my head. Something was impending, something dark and sinister and I was powerless to stop it.
Hardcore gore 4 was the 4th and biggest instalment, so far of Jeff Cipriano’s wrestling promotions.
It was billed as a rough and tumble, high flying, body slamming extravaganza featuring some of Florida’s best young wrestling talents.
It was headlined by Pistol Pete Collins, the current heavyweight champion, the Indefatigable Pretty Eddie Jones and his partner Brice - Wild Man -Sampson; also featuring Jay - short-stuff - Cipriano, Lillian Crews (women’s vixen champion) and the tag team champions: Jake Briggs (my humble self) and Cool dude Jude.
If the promo sounded tacky and unprofessional, it was because it was a rush job put together by myself, Jude and Jay.
Hardcore gore 4 was going to be by far the best of the lot, but if you had seen the fiasco that was hard-core 1 and 2, and to a lesser degree 3 you wouldn’t have put much import on that.
I had to admit; annoying though he was, Jeff Cipriano was doing a great job with OHW - Orlando Hard-core Wrestling.
God knows where he had secured sponsorship but apart from our usual promotion tactics which consisted of Jude, Jay and myself distributing shoddily made flyers around the town and the Vixens (the women’s team) going around bars and shamelessly inveigling lecherous drunks to part with 20 bucks for tickets, he had taken several slots in local radio stations and even the local paper.
The result was clear to see on the day of the event. It was a gorgeous day, with blue skies and not a hint of rain in the horizon, and the gym of Timber Creek High School was filling up nicely with fans, who had been steadily filing in 4 hours before the 12 pm start off time.
Jeff was the usual pain in the behind. Success was getting to his big fat, balding head, and he walked around, chest puffed out, puffing on a Havana Cigar, haranguing wrestlers and crew members in equal measure. The wrestling ring was set and ready, so Jeff saved his ire for the sound crew who were way behind.
Jay, Jude and I were getting dressed along with 5 other fill-ins who we knew vaguely from time in the Florida wrestling scene.
‘It’s disgusting I say,’ Jay said, tucking in his black and white referee’s uniform. ‘Hardcore Gore 4 and I can’t get an opponent, meanwhile that charlatan,’ he thumbed behind him at the locker room door, ‘is going to get a shot at the heavyweight and tag titles.’
Jude looked on dolefully while I shook my head pretending to be as peeved off as Jay. The truth is while nobody was less deserving of title shots as Eddie Jones, I couldn’t help being excited nonetheless.
The fan’s where a good bunch who knew their wrestling and it looked like a full house. Sally had taken time off her busy schedule to see me (well I think so anyway, the way her eyes lit up when I said Eddie was headlining made me suspicious of who she wanted to see more).
It was rumored that there were scouts from the WWE around, sniffing around for the next best thing and everybody agreed, I was the best technical wrestler on the roster.
‘Those horny teenage girls and cougars are not real fans,’ Jay continued sorely.
My brows furrowed. Jay was right Eddie had an advantage over us. He was doing some course in a community college and rumor had it that he had also been moonlighting as a male stripper in a seedy downtown club. These two activities meant that Pretty Eddie had a steady supply of young and old women sniffing around our events.
He had spent an hour and a half making a duck face and taking selfies with his adoring fans. I hated to say it but Jeff was right, he was the main-draw, crappy non-existent wrestling skills or not.
‘How do I look?’ I asked Jay.
Jude and I had been working out even more than normal for the past few weeks. While I looked good with lean muscle, Jude looked like a jacked up cartoon character.
‘Awesome…but the pants suck.’ Jay was still sore.
‘Great…oh-oh, here comes the Penguin,’ I said. The
penguin was the nick-name we had given Jeff Cipriano because he resembled Danny Devito’s character in the 1992 film, Batman Returns. Jeff, who didn’t watch movies and spent his time either handling his day job (Real estate) or his passion (wrestling) got wind of it but thought we called him that because he was a snappy dresser - he was that delusional that way.
‘Okay, guys, gather around. It’s 1 hour before show time, where the hell is Eddie and Brice?’ His voice reverberated around the locker room.
Someone exited to fetch the missing duo and soon, the full roster of OHW, was huddled in the little Timber Creek gym. A motley crew of muscle-bound wannabees, beautiful female wrestlers a sulking little referee and a beaming Jeff, who just looked like he won the lottery.
‘Well, guys what have I always told you? Stick with me, and we will go places. Just look at that crowd. A full house and we are churning out the merchandise especially the “I freakin' love Pretty Eddie” T-shirts.’ He paused for effect, someone whooped followed by clapping.
Jay, who was beside me swore softly.
‘What was that?’ Jeff looked suspiciously at Jay, chewed on his cigar and continued. ‘Everyone knows what to do. So no need to go into details. We start with the negligee slash mud wrestling Vixen’s match,’ He looked around, daring anybody to challenge him. The match had met a lot of resistance, but Jude, myself and the Vixen’s had lost out on a vote in which Jay had betrayed us.
‘Then,’ he continued, ‘We have the Table, Ladders and Chairs match. From there we go to the Kiss My Butt challenge.’ The Kiss My Butt Challenge was the nadir of our wrestling matches in my opinion and I was glad I wouldn’t be in it, as the loser had to kiss the winner’s butt.
‘After that,’ he said, ‘there’s the tag team match.’
He turned to me and Jude his eyes, narrowed into slits. ‘No screw-ups or I’ll tear you a new butt-hole,’ he said.
‘Then the big one, the heavyweight contest,’ he said beaming.
‘So guys, there are WWE scouts here…’ A big cheer went up and we high fived each other. One thing we all had in common was a dream to make it right to the top.
‘So leave it all out on the fuckin’ floor; now, get in here,’ he beckoned. We all huddled around Jay dwarfing him and placed palm upon palm.
‘What time is it?’ Jeff asked, in a booming voice. ‘Showtime.’ we chorused.
The show went on as planned. It started with the Vixen’s Match that was so politically incorrect I almost couldn’t watch. We were in the locker room watching the women’s champion, Kitty Malone take on the challenger - a blond with an unreal body called, and I kid you not, Charlene Dicks in a lingerie/slash mud wrestling championship match.
Kitty Malone retained her championship, her athletic body splattered with mud. I had to admit, classless, though it might be the match proved to be a massive hit with the men in the audience as both women retreated, caked in mud, to loud applause and cat whistles. One after the other, the matches went without a hitch.
Perspiration poured down my brow as my moment of reckoning came. Every wrestler on the roster felt the pressure; a few execs from the big boys, WWE, NXT and TNA were milling in the crowd, trying their best to blend in with the regular fans. Ever since I was a kid, all I dreamed of was being the next Shawn Michaels or Jericho, this was my big moment; it was why I got up 5 am in the mornings to go to the gym; why I spent thousands getting trained by various wrestling coaches in the Florida area. I glanced at Jude to see if he felt the same, no such luck, he was colder than the other side of the pillow chewing gum vacantly, while his eyes stayed glued to the set showing the Tables, Ladders, and Chairs match between four high flying masked cruiserweights.
Soon it was our turn. We moved to the hallway limbering up. We murmured greetings to the sweating cruiserweights as they filed by us, on their way to the locker room. ‘Good luck out there,’ one of them said, and we heard the strains of our intro music, a high tempo rap number that was weak on lyrical content (not surprising since Jude wrote it) but had top energy riffs that always got the adrenaline flowing.
We entered the arena to a chorus of boos. We were the champions, but heels (bad boys in wrestling parlance). I scowled as I walked down the aisle with Jude by my side. I was a bit irked that the Champions had to enter first (a no-no in the Wrestling world), but Pretty Eddie was the star of the show.
We got in the ring and showed our belts as the crowd booed and whistled loudly. ‘Hey,’ Jay said. He was our ref. ‘Hey,’ I said. I climbed the ring ropes and raised the belt up, sneering at the Eddie section, as they booed and cursed me.
Suddenly, I saw him for the first time. My heart rate spiked and a chill ran down my spine. Amongst the teenage and pre-teen girls in the Pretty Eddie section, was my stalker, and he stared back at me an impassive expression on his pale, wrinkled, pallid face.
His face was deathly pale, with more wrinkles than a prune. A puckered scar started from the tip of his hairline and ended just above the chin, cutting a grotesque path, like a slithering stream across his nose and lips. His eyes were pale gray, unblinking and devoid of any emotion. He wore a forest green cap and a loud Hawaiian shirt. He looked like a castaway from a B grade horror movie, but that wasn't what turned my blood cold; what really got me was his uncanny resemblance to the druid in my mother's painting. Take away the Hawaiian shirt and the cap and put him in a dirty brown cloak and he could be the same dude.
‘What’s the matter?’ Jude said. He followed my line of sight, and his eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t worry about him, bro. We got a match to get through.’ I nodded slowly and turned away, I would deal with him later.
Pretty Eddie and his tag partner were coming down the aisle to the strains of an electronic number. He looked in prime condition. There was not an ounce of fat to be found on his tanned rippling muscled body. The blond girl by his side looked just as good in a short shimmering dress that showed her curves. Brice trailed them, and all three were cheered voraciously as they sauntered down the ailse.
With a herculean effort, I forced my mind away from the strange apparition in the audience. The four of us squared up jawing at each other while Jay gave us a pep-talk.
‘Okay guys, let’s stick to the script and have a good match. It’s over when I call it, and Pretty and Brice win…alright?’ We all nodded.
As a pro, my mind was 100% on the match as soon as the bell sounded. Eddie and I grappled for a bit, and then he worked me into a head-lock. With an effort, I flung him into the ropes and met him with a close-line. We went at it for the next three minutes. It was a typical, high flyer (myself) match against a brawler (Eddie). The training was paying off. He was pulling his punches and kicks excellently and executed a perfect body-slam for the first time ever. I gave a master-class in drop-kicks, pile drivers and other high wire moves. We both tagged, and our partners squared off against each other.
Jude was on fire, he was way bigger than all of us but just as agile. It occurred to me that of all of us, he had the most potential; I was a bit embarrassed at the envy that coursed through me at the thought.
My eyes strayed to the Eddie section, and sure enough, he was still there. It was incredibly disconcerting to see how the old man impassively ignored the action and stared pointedly at me. I couldn’t resist flipping him a bird although for all the reaction it elicited - he didn’t even blink - I needn’t have bothered. He just stared back stoically until I could no longer meet his eyes.
‘Stay in the game bro!’ Jude bellowed as he tagged me in. I came back to Earth with a jolt and entered the ring. I had a good 2 minutes against Brice - an excellent technician - before he tagged in Pretty Eddie. He clambered into the ring to a chorus of cheers and whistles, and we went at it.
The momentum went back and forth until Jay, seizing a moment whispered, ‘Okay guys. Wrap it up…Eddie wins by submission.’
‘I’m going up,’ Eddie said, sweat pouring down his handsome face.
‘For christ-sak
e be careful…’ I had scarcely finished before he scooped me up with ease and body slammed me in the center of the ring. I winced as the air left me. What a moron, I thought. I knew he didn’t have the agility to reach me, so I had to squirm towards the turnbuckle as he climbed up to the top rope for a splash.
He crouched for a minute, getting his balance then straightened arms outstretched and let out a hideous yell. He launched himself into the air, limbs akimbo and I closed my eyes, bracing for the impact. I waited and waited, and finally opened my eye in confusion, what I saw made me question my sanity. Pretty Eddie was in the air, arms outstretched, legs akimbo, and a maniacal grin on his face, frozen as if someone had hit the pause button.
Chapter 4
For a moment I gazed up dumbfounded. Slowly I got up like a man in a trance, and took a few steps back, totally unable to believe what was in front of my eyes. Pretty Eddie, was 8 feet in the air, frozen like a mannequin, only, I’d never seen any statues suspended in the air. His arms were outstretched, and he was horizontal, his flailing hair, every single slick black strand, was frozen stiff, and his handsome face had a triumphant, concentrated, unblinking gaze, that set my heart-rate to dangerously high levels.
Until that moment, I only had eyes for the horror that was a frozen Eddie, but I suddenly realized how eerily quiet it had become. I turned to Jude, and he was frozen too. I suddenly felt sick - Jay also was frozen stiff. A cold chill, suddenly hit me as I slowly turned around 360 my heart hammering in my chest. Everywhere I looked, I saw frozen people - like a vast, horrific mannequin challenge. Jude was reaching out, his mouth open, Jay was in the middle of the ring staring up - stiff as a lamp-post - at frozen Eddie. Everybody in the audience was caught in various poses. Most of them staring at the frozen figure of Eddie, while the rest were caught doing multiple other things. Some were cheering, some were clapping, a couple was walking; another making out, a baby mouth open in her mom’s arms, the cameraman’s lens was trained at me, a photographer was caught in mid-stride…and on and on it went. It seemed I was the only one who could move.
The Legend of Brigaard Page 3
