*****
Brett called her that evening, his voice full of excitement. “Hey, guess who I talked to today?!“ .
She made light of the moment. “The White House?”
“Very funny. No, but this was someone special. I heard from Michael Sloane. Remember him? He was one of my trainers at the wrestling academy.”
“I know that much. What did he have to say?”
“He wanted to congratulate me on my upcoming SCE and Dragonfly matches and glad I’m still active. Oh yeah, and he said for me to ‘kick ass all over the place just like he taught me.’ Like I would do anything else!”
“Those words coming from your old trainer should mean something.”
“Yeah. Michael said he was proud of what a 'little punk eighteen-year-old skinny kid’ became after two years under his wing.”
“Was it worth all he put you through during wrestling training?”
“Hell yeah. All those days in a room with no air conditioning above a dive restaurant in the Texas heat, doing the same moves over and over until they were perfect, puking our guts out, and coming back for more. A lesser person would give it up in a day or two, but I was determined to finish. Earning Michael’s respect was a bonus.”
“Have you started training for your shows yet?”
“My two weeks of torture begins eight o‘clock tomorrow morning,” Brett replied. “Patrick took the liberty of reminding me that I’m getting ‘a little chunky.’ Some friend he is.”
“It wouldn‘t kill you to gain a few pounds. The last time I saw you on television, your rib cage was almost visible.”
“You’re good for the morale, but I miss my abs.”
“That will be resolved once you’re back in the ring. But don’t worry, I still think you’re perfect the way you are.”
Karen heard a beep on the other end. “Shit,” Brett said, “Hate to cut you off, sweetheart, but that’s Gil Preston. Probably wants to discuss the details of my SCE match. Can we talk online later?”
“Of course. I need to get back to working on an article anyway.”
She hung up with a smile on her face. “One thing about having a friend in the wrestling business, my own life’s been far from dull these last few months.”
What Karen didn’t know was that Brett was pursuing yet another project, one which would involve her.
CHAPTER 13
“Come on, Kerrigan! Put some more power into it. You’re supposed to be killing your opponent! You didn’t get soft in the last two weeks, did you?”
Brett glanced at Ron Fairchild, the head trainer who was assisting in the upcoming Squared Circle Express show. He still had confidence in his abilities and hadn’t lost his touch in the ring. “Soft and I don‘t belong in the same sentence, man.”
“See you’re still a smart ass, too. Now do the move again, this time with more effort.”
Four more hours of this. At least I’m being trained by one of the best guys in the business.
Brett was relieved when lunch break was announced. He was having a nicotine fit and hungry. At a nearby taco stand, Brett leaned on the counter, stomach rumbling. If he didn’t eat then, he would pass out from the rigorous practice runs scheduled for that afternoon. It felt like an empty pit had opened up inside him. “Hey, my man, think I could get a couple of tacos to go?”
A man working behind the counter looked at the blond man Happy to see his customer, he wasted no time coming over to take the order. “Would you like something to drink with those, senor?” he asked, a smile on his face.
“Sure, why not? Spare the hot sauce, though.”
Brett headed back to the practice center with his lunch. No one else had returned yet, so he smoked a cigarette and then wolfed down the tacos. “Oops. Excuse me,” he said after a loud belch.
“You fucking pig. No wonder you’re getting a little chunky,” a voice behind Brett said. “Ever hear of a salad?”
He turned around and saw Patrick standing there, grinning. “What are you doing here? I thought you were filming today.”
“I was, but we finished early. The director had some kind of an emergency. I figured since I was nearby, I would stop in and see how you were doing.”
“Ron’s been putting us through hell, but I think I’ll live.”
“Yeah, forgot to warn you about him. He’s a brutal perfectionist.”
“I figured that out when he had us doing jumping jacks at seven this morning.”
“That’s why he’s one of the best SCE trainers.”
“Hey, Sanchez-Garcia, here for more punishment?” Ron asked. “Wait a minute…I don’t recall you being added to the card.”
Patrick gave the burly man a hug. “Love to, but I haven’t been medically cleared to wrestle. I’m doing a movie down the street.”
“Good to see you again. How would you like to stick around awhile longer and watch Kerrigan? I may toss him around a few times.”
“You wish throwing me everywhere was that simple!”
“This is coming from a guy who had his ass kicked by Crazy Train in his early wrestling days,” Patrick replied.
“Shut up, Patrick, you ended up squashed by Giant Bob Dell in your debut. I would also like to add I was the one who saved you from being pounded to death afterward.”
“On that subject, Kerrigan, it’s time for us to get back to work. We can’t have you being sloppy in your Squared Circle Express debut, can we?”
“Oh, hell no!” Brett stretched to his full height. “I’m ready to make an impact this city will never forget!”
*****
Graham Sobeck arrived in town that weekend to meet with Dragonfly officials and finalize deals. In what was fate, the only wrestler he encountered was Brett Kerrigan. He shouted across the hallway, “Hey, Brett!”
He turned around, surprised to see Sobeck. "What are you doing here, Graham?"
Sobeck smiled and said nothing.
"Come on. You’re up to no good. I don’t think you called me over to discuss your mall purchases.”
“I’ve tried to contact you all morning. Japan informed me they found the perfect challenger for you.”
“Is it anyone I know or wrestled?”
“I think you’ll be astounded. Dragonfly Japan suggested Shima.”
“You want me to work Shima in a singles match? Graham, that’s the opportunity of a lifetime! Yes, count me in!” He pumped a fist in the air with enthusiasm and felt a shot of adrenaline spurt through his body.
Sobeck was stunned by his response. Shima vs. Brett Kerrigan, a dream match no one imagine made on paper, would soon become a reality. In a mall corridor, the deal was struck. Brett would come to Sobeck’s office to make their contract official.
*****
Brett was grumpy all morning. He’d gone to the mall to clear his head and his mood improved when he’d seen Sobeck. Their chance meeting led to Brett’s contract signing at Dragonfly. After he’d signed the contract, Brett skipped out of Sobeck‘s office, not caring what onlookers thought. “I never had an offer like this from the last place I worked. Those idiots only used me for stupid gimmicks and dumped me when something better came along!”
In less than two months, Brett went from jobbing with a major company, which was essentially becoming a joke to both fans and media alike, to booked opposing legends such as Shima. Dragonfly wasn’t a billion-dollar sports entertainment empire, but Brett still considered their offer a positive step in his career.
He was also looking forward to wrestling his old training partner and friend Brent Dillard in the Squared Circle Express show’s grudge match less than two weeks away. He and Brett shared a long history, stemming from their days as training partners at Michael Sloane. “Remember the early days when you’d crash at my apartment on the living room floor because you had nowhere to live?”
“Dude, how could I forget? That carpet smelled like cat piss, and you didn‘t even own a cat. I even remember the hooptie you drove when we traveled to shows. Damn
, you had to get in through the passenger side door because the driver‘s side didn‘t open.”
“What the hell,” Dillard said. “It ran!”
“The good old days when we didn’t eat very often.”
“Is that what caused you to be delusional? Damn, I thought you’d scored some good drugs.”
“We didn’t even have enough change for a hamburger most of the time, let alone to buy even the shittiest drugs.”
“I know, I was just messing with you.”
“Nice to see you haven’t changed, Dillard. It’s going to be a pleasure mopping you up in the ring before I head to Chicago to face Shima.”
“Now you’re being delusional, and this time, it isn’t from the lack of food.”
CHAPTER 14
"May I help you?" Carol, the newspaper’s receptionist, greeted the deliveryman before her.
“Delivery for Karen Montgomery. Will you sign for it?”
“Sure.”
He watched as she scribbled the signature screen and handed her the package. Carol took it back to where Karen was engrossed in work. “Delivery for you.”
“Thanks, Carol.“
Karen turned the small, flat parcel over in her hands, puzzled. “What’s this? I don’t recall ordering anything.” She leaned back on her chair and tore open the package. Spying the contents, an audible gasp escaped her lips and she felt her cheeks flush a little. First class plane tickets to Los Angeles from Brett!
The phone began to shrill on her desk, jarring her back to reality. She picked up the receiver. “Karen Montgomery.”
“Good morning, mio bell'un.”
“Brett! Funny you’d call. I’m looking at the plane tickets you sent.”
“I was about to say you were going to receive a surprise. Looks like someone beat me to it.”
“First class? That’s rather expensive.”
“Beats sitting in economy with smelly old men, screaming kids, and fighting to use the postage stamp-sized john. Plus it‘s been a long time since we saw each other and I‘d like you to be here for my first Squared Circle Express show.”
Good thing I haven’t talked to Mr. Sullivan about using my remaining personal time. “Guess I have no say. I still have to arrange to get time off.”
“All taken care of.”
“You talked to Mr. Sullivan?”
“Yeah, about two weeks ago. He said there was some time you hadn’t used yet and to name the days you’d need.”
“I can’t believe you two discussed that without saying a word to me.”
“Wouldn’t be much of a surprise if we did, sweetheart.”
“Maybe not, but why have me come out there instead of us getting together when you either have time off or you’re scheduled to do a show here?”
“Because it’ll give my favorite writer an edge on all of your competitors by doing actual live coverage for local outlets.”
“So I’m going to cover the SCE event and then come home the next day? Doesn’t sound too difficult.”
“Oh, there’s going to be a lot more involved than that. I’m going to give you a night you’ll never forget.”
“Such as?”
“That, my dear, will remain a secret until you get here.”
CHAPTER 15
Karen’s job required her to travel frequently, but she hated flying. Each time she did, she always had an odd premonition that she would someday die in an airplane crash or there would be another terrorist attack not unlike 9/11. She avoided airline travel whenever it was possible. For shorter trips, she rode with one of the other reporters. For longer ones, she took trains, and even boats, unless it was an overseas assignment, then she had no choice but to fly.
A train trip to Los Angeles for Brett’s show would have taken two to three days, in contrast to several hours by plane. Not that she had the option anyway; he sent the plane tickets and she would have felt guilty not using them. “I know he meant well, but flying is such torture. I hope we arrive in L.A. soon.”
A flight attendant noted her nervousness. “Are you all right, ma’am?”
“I’ll be fine, thanks. How long until we land in Los Angeles?”
“About an hour.”
Karen sighed with relief. “Thank goodness.”
“Is this your first flight?”
“No, I’m just not a good flyer.”
“May I get you anything?”
“Something strong to drink wouldn’t hurt.”
When her beverage came, Karen sat back in her seat, feeling a little better. Despite her skittishness when it came to air travel, she admitted first class was far more comfortable and reassuring. “Too bad I can’t fly in this style more often.”
*****
Brett was anxious as he paced around the airport terminal, Patrick in tow, waiting for Karen‘s flight to arrive.” Do you think she’ll find us?”
Patrick rolled his eyes. Jesus, it’s like being around a junior high school kid about to go on his first date. “Dude, I think we‘ll have a better chance of her spotting us if you stay still.”
“Do you know how long it’s been since she and I saw each other?“
“Yeah, way back when you met after that last show in Pittsburgh.” He sat down in one of the plastic chairs. “When‘s her flight due?”
“Should be here any minute. Shit, how’s my hair? Is this shirt okay?”
Patrick made a big production out of looking him over before he said with a smirk, “I don’t give a flying fuck.”
“This isn‘t the day to be an asshole!” Brett rushed toward the men’s room to check his hair.
“You might want to pop a breath mint too,” Patrick called after him.
*****
Karen’s plane arrived at LAX without incident. She moved through the crowded, busy airport to the luggage area, spotting her luggage and grabbed it off the conveyor. “Now I can get a cab to the hotel and enjoy a good hot bath before I call Brett.”
She almost reached a waiting taxi when someone bellowed through the warm afternoon air, “Karen!”
A warm smile crossed her face when she found Brett and Patrick catching up. “Isn’t this a treat! I wasn’t expecting you to meet me here.”
“Service with a smile,” Brett said. “It would’ve been rude of me to have you wandering around in a strange city.”
Patrick pulled her into a bear hug before she could react. “Nice to meet you!”
Karen felt the wind being sucked out of her. “Same to you.”
Brett pulled him off. “Pat, let the lady breathe, and remember, she’s here to see me.”
Patrick stepped back and ran his hands down his body. “What’s so appealing about short stuff when she can have all of this?”
Brett shook his head, bewildered. “Is it that impossible to think some women find a guy’s personality more attractive than just looks? Unless you had a change of heart overnight, she isn‘t your type anyway.”
“And this blond creature is just too cute and funny,” Karen said, giving Brett a hug. “It’s good to see you again.”
“You okay, sweetheart? You’re a little pale.”
“I’m fine. Just forgot to mention I’m not big on flying, to say the least.”
“You got airsick? I wish I knew.”
“Not airsick, just a white-knuckle flyer. I don’t take planes unless I have to.”
“Damn, I should have sent train tickets instead. Sorry to put you through all of that hell.”
“It’s okay. Train ride would have taken two days. Seeing you is worth being nervous, and I never flew first class before. Thanks again for inviting me out here.”
“Did you eat yet? Brett and I were planning on lunch today before he told me you were coming to L.A.,” Patrick said.
She shook her head. “I was too nervous on the plane to even think about food. Now that I’m back on land, lunch sounds great.”
“Good, because I have another surprise for you,” Brett said.
“Haven�
�t you done enough?”
Patrick gave him a playful pat on the shoulder. “Yeah, man, quit showing off. You won her over months ago.”
“You’re just jealous,” Brett presented her with an envelope. “Now I have done enough. By the way, Pat’s buying lunch.”
“Wait…what? I didn’t say anything about…”
“Work with me, dude.”
Karen tore open the envelope and studied its contents. “A front row seat? You really want me to see your match, don’t you?”
“Well, I didn’t bring you all the way out here to sit back where the cheap seats are, sweetheart.” Brett flexed his muscles and swaggered around. “After all, you should have a clear view of me in action.”
“Oh God, I think I’m going to puke,” Patrick said. “And you have the balls to rag on me about ‘strutting like a peacock’.”
“Let him have his moment, Pat,” Karen replied. “Tomorrow’s the big day.”
“Yeah, the funny part will be when Dillard mops up the ring with him. Come on, let’s go have that lunch.”
CHAPTER 16
Squared Circle Express welcomed its audience the following night with a display of pyrotechnics before two commentators made their entrance. The long-awaited Dillard/Kerrigan pairing was the third match into the program, and Brett appeared in the ring with a cocky attitude. “You Squared Circle Express fans don't know what you’ve been missing,” he said. “A world without me is not one where I want to live. I’m here tonight to prove that you’re better off now than before I arrived.”
Brent Dillard stood on the ring apron with a bland expression, waiting for his turn to speak. Has everyone I know from the wrestling academy gone insane? Wait…’insane’ and ‘Brett Kerrigan’ are appropriate in the same sentence.
The Cruiserweight Page 7
