by Paul O'Brien
Lenny was beginning to feel like a veteran. He was allowed to feel that way, though. The prison left him alone. New guys asked him questions, and he was the one on the floor if anything went wrong with anything in the workshop.
He ate his food, worked his job, wrote his letters, and read a lot. He had tried The Art of War, but couldn’t get past the first twenty pages. It made sense to Lenny, but he wouldn’t find a plan in there.
Lenny lifted the mattress in his cell: underneath were stacks of wrestling magazines. This was where the answer would lie; in those pages was something that would keep Lenny safe on the outside. He just had to think some more.
As much as he hated himself for doing so, he kept up on the latest matches, and the latest news—as ‘latest’ as a magazine could be—but his information was never more than a couple of months out of date.
Lenny knew to keep them hidden, too, because inside, you would get a high five for reading porno magazines, and a beating for reading wrestling magazines. Lenny knew that it was worth the risk, as he scanned through the pages once more, looking for something.
A wrestling boss calling a wrestling magazine would be like a Yeti calling the National Enquirer.
But on this day, Lenny Long, the boss of New York, called the number on the back of the USA Wrestling Chronicles. He wanted to go on the record to talk about wrestling, his hopes for the future, and his thoughts on the other bosses.
He made sure that the magazine wouldn’t mention his time inside, or what had happened with Danno Garland. Lenny wanted the piece to be a wrestling piece—one that would protect him even more.
Memphis.
1984.
Three months before Lenny got out.
Joe Lapine sat back on his jet, and thought about nice things: a good wine that he had, or a nice lady he’d met. He was feeling good, but he knew that the contents of the brown bag in front of him would ruin that feeling. He put it out of his mind for five minutes, until he could no longer take it.
Joe took the wrestling magazine from the bag, and opened it to the page that had been marked for him. The first thing he saw was an old picture of Lenny Long, and then a headline that read:
Unprecedented Access: New York’s Owner
He saw the highlighted quote from Lenny:
I know I’m new to the business, but I already love the intense competition from the likes of Joe Lapine from Memphis, and Tanner Blackwell from the Carolinas. These guys have been around forever, and they are watching me closely. Everyone wants New York.
With that, Joe knew the game. He could only gently sit back in his seat, and run all the angles in his head.
“That little fuck.”
North Carolina.
Tanner circled his pool with a giant cordless phone up to his ear, and the magazine in his hand. His swimming trunks were falling off of his shrinking body.
“What’s he playing at?”
Troy was in a New York phone booth. “He wants to sell. I spoke to him this morning.”
“He wants to sell?” Tanner asked. “Well, what the fuck is this shit?”
“Sixty thousand, plus his release. He has the contract, now. You guys pick him up on the morning he gets out, and do the deal.”
“But he...”
Troy dropped the level of his voice, as if Lenny might be able to hear. “He was smart, Tanner.”
Tanner could do nothing, but throw the magazine as far as he could, which was about a foot away.
Lenny was smart, and Tanner knew it.
He had stumped the two master players, for now. By naming Joe and Tanner directly, they would both have to do everything to make sure that Lenny stayed safe until the deal was done, and Lenny was back out of the spotlight. They had no choice, because if something bad was to happen to Lenny, Joe and Tanner would be the first suspects.
The only way to get New York quickly was the legit way.
CHAPTER FOUR
New York.
1984.
One minute before Lenny got out of prison.
Lenny Long didn’t know where home was, anymore. Not left, or right, and not north, or south. He didn’t know what state his family lived in, anymore. He figured that they wanted to forget him, and he insisted that they did.
He felt that it was the least he could do.
Now that he was minutes from being out, though, he wanted to go home more than anything. He wanted to go home to look after his family, and be something of worth for them.
He stood still, waiting for the automatic prison door in front of him to slowly slide open. HANDS OFF read the sign on the bars. When it was clear, Lenny stood inside the last small building that kept him from the outside world. It was small with a glass hatch to his left, and a metal detector in front of him. Lenny couldn’t move until the automatic door that had let him in closed behind him.
He had spent twelve years of his life waiting for those doors to open and close, and now there was only one more to go.
He walked forward to another prison guard, who sat at a desk beside the glass. Lenny could see the cold daylight forcing its way in through the front door. He was steps from freedom, and he knew it. A metal prison door identical to the first covered his door out. Lenny could see the cars parked outside: real people cars of different colors. He missed colors.
New York.
1984.
One minute after Lenny got out of prison.
The prison walls that had soared above him every day for twelve years were now behind Lenny Long. There were just as bland and cold on the free side as they were on the yard side. As he looked outward with the prison to his back, there was almost too much space.
The wrestling business had put him in there, and the same business had gotten him back out, again.
That’s what he was weary of.
He felt the contract in his pocket, like a comfort blanket. He knew that he was a prop that went inside when they didn’t need him, and got taken back out when they did. There were no balloons, no trumpets, and no waiting party. He wasn’t even given a sly smile from any of the guards.
Nothing.
What he couldn’t see, and didn’t know, was that his exit from prison had the attention of some of the biggest players in the business.
It had even caught the eye of a few opportunistic players outside the business.
Circumstances, timing, and Lenny making himself public meant that whoever was interested in doing business had to do it the right way—or at the very least, the old fashioned way.
They could earn it, steal it, or con it into their possession, but only a fool, or someone pushed to their limit, would try to kill for it.
Unfortunately for Lenny, the wrestling business was full of fools and people who had been pushed to their limits.
Once outside, some people ran from the door, and some strutted. Lenny meandered away from it, like someone who had just stumbled up out of a bunker.
He knew that he didn’t have any right to, but he looked for his family.
Time and again, he imagined that they would be pacing as they waited for him to appear. They would come running, and then their arms would be around him, and he would finally forgive himself for getting into the business—for putting them in harm’s way, and for not being there.
They weren’t there, though, and it was his fault. He hadn’t even called anyone to say that he was coming out. Until this piece of the deal was done, however, he still wasn’t a hundred percent sure that he was going to make it home.
What he did know was that, after more than a decade inside, he was a changed man—if only he could convince himself that those changes were for the better. The bruising on his face and the stitches above his eye were the last marks to remind him of the hell he’d been through.
He didn’t know where to go, but he began to walk. Attica was like the presence of a monster behind him, and he didn’t want to look back and acknowledge its existence. He didn’t want to stop, in case it claimed him, again.
In front of him, the layer of rainwater made the black tarmac shine as it pointed the way out to a changed world. He hoped for a normal life, but he knew that would be impossible, until he made good on the last piece of the deal in Manhattan.
Getting out hadn’t happened by accident, and it hadn’t happened for free. Now, he had to pay up.
He was told to look out for a driver—someone would make himself known when Lenny got to the parking lot. There were a few scattered cars parked in the designated areas, but the place was mostly silent. Nothing was jumping out at him as his ride to the city.
He only had twenty-seven dollars in his pocket, saved from his fifty-six cent per day wages.
He put his head down, and began to walk even faster. Maybe he could create some distance between him and the prison and the wrestling business. Maybe they had just forgotten about him. Maybe they’d decided that he wouldn’t have to sell his soul, after all.
Lenny knew that was just wishful thinking as he crossed the wet grass at the end of the parking lot. He needed them to come. He was out, and that was great, but it was the second part of his deal that was going to get him home.
He heard the chatter of an engine come from behind, and he thought that it might have been his ride. He was right, but not in the way he’d thought.
“Long time,” Babu said from the driver’s seat of his VW Kombi van. Lenny stopped to make out his face. The voice was familiar, but it was from a long time ago.
Lenny stared at Babu, and Babu stared back. It had been years since they’d laid eyes on each other. To Babu, Lenny looked different: thicker around the shoulders, and bigger in general, with shorter hair, and an overgrown beard. His eyes were darker, and his face was scared. He wasn’t what Babu remembered, but he was Lenny Long.
“What happened to your face?” Babu asked from his rolled down window.
“What are you doing here?” Lenny asked from a safe distance.
Babu wasn’t part of the business that Lenny had to complete, and he didn’t want his former giant colleague making things more complicated than they had to be.
“Get in,” Babu said.
Lenny knew that this wasn’t the ride he was waiting for. What he didn’t know was that the driver who was really supposed to take him to the city was lying unconscious between two cars about a hundred feet away. Babu had seen to that before Lenny had even emerged from the gates.
But not before getting the address to where Lenny was to finish his business.
“What are you doing here?” Lenny asked, still unmoving.
Babu leaned across, and opened the passenger door.
“No thanks,” Lenny said, as he began to walk.
Babu touched the gas pedal just enough to stay in line with Lenny as he walked with no real direction.
“You have no idea what’s been going on here, do you?” Babu asked.
The thumping of Lenny’s heart made him want to run; it made him feel as if he was in danger. Babu wasn’t following him to catch up on old times.
So, what was he there for?
Babu pulled the van across Lenny’s path. “I’m not asking you, again. Get in the fucking van.”
Lenny took one last look around for other options—other getaways—but there was nothing else.
“What are you doing here?” Lenny asked.
“I’m here to change your mind,” Babu said, “One way, or another.”
New York.
1984.
Two hours after Lenny got out.
Babu drove with Lenny, silent, beside him. Even though he had the driver’s seat pushed back as far as it would go, Babu could still feel the steering wheel get lost in his growing gut.
This was the consequence of a man who had all but given up.
As the miles ticked along, and the sky got a little more overcast, and the scenery got more remote, Lenny couldn’t figure out whether he was being driven by a friend, or not. Babu was too quiet to give any indication. There was once a time when Lenny would have just known, but a lot of things had happened since they had last seen each other.
Some of those things they were both aware of, but others, they chose to keep to themselves.
From the corner of his eye, Lenny could see that the giant was older-looking, and much heavier. Even the simple act of shifting in his seat seemed excruciating. Babu’s features were more pronounced: his jaw was larger, and his cheekbones seemed to be protruding a lot more. He had that tired look of someone who was always in pain, but he was still the man who, years before, had come to like Lenny.
At least, Lenny hoped that was still the case, as Babu turned from the highway and headed down a smaller, older, darker road. After passing a couple of wooden houses, the scenery soon became nothing, but trees, hills, and neglected roads.
Babu began to slow down as he looked out his side window for a specific spot. Something must have made sense, because Babu pushed on the brakes, and the van jerked to a stop.
“I’m asking you to not sell to Tanner,” Babu said outright.
“I have to,” Lenny replied.
“There are so many angles to this that you have no idea about, yet. You’re just going to have to trust me.”
Maybe years before, that would have been enough; maybe before all that happened had happened, Lenny would have trusted Babu’s word, but not anymore.
“I have to follow through on this,” Lenny said.
Babu carefully exited onto the bed of wet leaves. There was no one around to witness anything, only hundreds of thousands of tall, skinny, silent birch trees. Lenny heard years ago that this was how they killed Proctor King. He had been brought to a place that sounded a lot like where Lenny found himself, now.
“Out,” Babu said, as he walked around to Lenny’s side of the van.
Lenny seriously weighed his situation before he joined Babu outside. “What are we doing?” he asked.
He was terrified of the answer.
“You made a promise to him,” Babu said.
“Who?” Lenny asked.
“Danno. And I want you to keep it.”
“What are you talking about?”
Babu took a step in, and towered over Lenny. “We all have to protect the business. That’s what we all signed up for when we were let in.”
Lenny shook his head. He reckoned that his twelve years inside de-facto had released him from wrestling’s insider rules.
“I just want to get my money, and head on my way,” Lenny said. “I don’t give a fuck about the wrestling business.”
“We can get you money, if that’s all you want.”
For a split second, Lenny was curious as to who ‘we’ was. He very briefly wondered what side Babu was on, but he also wondered what side he was on.
“I’ve already made the deal,” Lenny said.
“I can’t let you sell us out,” Babu said. “New York can’t get taken over by these people.”
Babu grabbed Lenny by the shoulder, and pushed him toward the forest. Lenny took twenty or thirty slow, silent steps; the quiet was unnerving. In a place like this, Lenny knew that there might not be anyone around for miles.
He talked to himself, and questioned whether he was going to go down like the old limp Lenny that Babu presumed he was dealing with, or as the Lenny he had become.
The deeper they got into the forest, the easier the decision became for Lenny. “I’m not going to let you kill me.”
Babu could only laugh at Lenny’s statement.
Lenny stopped walking. “Not easily, anyway.”
“Keep walking, you piece of shit,” Babu said as he pushed Lenny in the back.
Lenny staggered forward, but then stopped, firm. “You’re going to have to do whatever it is you want to do right here.”
He slowly turned around, and prayed that there wasn’t a gun pointed in his direction—not that a man who was over seven feet tall and five hundred pounds needed any weapon.
“Where’s your loyalty?” Babu asked.
; Lenny wasn’t proud of himself. “I already gave him my word.”
“What do you think is going to happen once you sign the papers?” Babu asked.
Lenny replied. “I know what happens if I don’t sign the papers.”
“I understand that you need some money, Lenny. But New York isn’t yours to sell.”
“Whatever it is, I fucking earned it.”
Babu grabbed Lenny by the collar. His huge ham-like fist was almost the size of Lenny’s head. “And how did you earn it, exactly?”
Lenny knew that Babu thought he was inferring that he’d earned it by killing Danno.
“I...”
Babu slapped Lenny across the face. The force of the blow lifted him off of his feet, and dropped him onto his back. The left side of his face went instantly numb, and his ear buzzed in a partial deafness, like a bomb had just gone off beside him.
“How did you fucking earn it?” Babu asked.
Lenny struggled to get to his feet, but he did. Babu approached him, again, and Lenny threw a punch that landed. Babu was stunned, not from the force, but by the fact that Lenny dared to hit him back.
Lenny back-pedaled quickly with his fists still up. Babu couldn’t catch him, but any time he came close, Lenny would fire off another shot.
“All the history, and the blood spilled, and you’re going to hand it to them?” Babu asked.
Lenny slipped momentarily, and Babu grabbed him by the throat. Lenny smashed in two elbows to Babu’s forehead, before Babu lifted Lenny above his head, and against a tree trunk.
He was immediately immobilized. He tried scratching at Babu’s face and eyes, but the giant head-butted Lenny in the sternum. Any small reserve of breath that Lenny had was driven from his body.
“You’re not going to take this from us. Do you hear me?” Babu shouted.
Lenny could only watch as a blackness began to mist in from both sides of his eyes. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was the pain in Babu’s face. As much as he wanted to continue to rag-doll Lenny, Babu’s body didn’t have it, anymore. He dropped Lenny, as he fell helplessly to the ground, himself.
