by Paul O'Brien
Ade lay there after he left. She was stunned, hurt, and shamed. She lifted herself from the floor and made her way to the exit.
1972.
New York.
A couple of months later, Ade found herself back in New York. This time she didn’t have to pay for anything, which was good, because Ade didn’t have two coins to rub together.
Lenny inched Ade Schiller through the traffic leaving JFK International. “How was your flight, Mrs. Schiller?”
Ade was freshening up her face in the back of the car and reading the giant billboard to her right. “The Great White Way to New York. Is that what they say now?”
“Mr. Garland is really looking forward to your company tomorrow after you get settled,” Lenny said.
“How is Mr. Moneybags? I hear he’s having to deal with a lot of shit from that asshole, Proctor.”
Lenny concentrated on finding the smallest opportunity between the Buick and the Mack truck in front of him. “I wouldn’t know about those things, I’m afraid. The word is, though, that Proctor hasn’t even been heard from since the boss gave him what-for about the match at Shea.”
“Really?” Ade seemed intrigued.
“No one has heard a single word,” Lenny said.
This update seemed to make Ade very happy. “Really,” she said again.
Lenny popped the cigarette lighter and handed it back to Ade, who duly lit up.
“How did Danno know I was coming out here?” she asked.
Lenny shrugged at his boss’s mystical ways. In truth, it was more than likely that a wrestler from her territory said something in passing about them not working this week because their boss was coming to New York. This, of course, would have been overheard by his tag-team partner, who was a brother of the ring announcer in LA, who met with Ricky last week to see about working some towns with them while his brother finished up a messy divorce in Jersey.
Telephone. Telegram. Tell-a-wrestler.
The phone rang.
“Ade?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Danno. How are you?”
“I’m doing great. I’m coming right down.”
“Do you mind if I come up?”
“Um … I guess not.”
“Good.”
Ade was overdressed for her room and now she felt foolish. She had torn her garage to pieces to look for something to wear. She just wanted out of the wrestling business, and something told her that Danno Garland hadn’t flown her to New York to talk about the weather. She had heard that things were getting heavy between Danno and Proctor. Their big match, during which Danno would have to release the belt, just like Ade had planned, was just around the corner. She had been all over the plan at the start, and now that it was coming to an end, she couldn’t have been further away from it.
All she wanted to do was distance herself even more.
She opened the door. Ricky Plick walked in first; Danno quickly followed him.
“Sorry about this, Ade,” Danno said, as he put his hat on her glass table. “I’ve got to be careful.”
“I understand,” Ade said.
Ricky nodded at Ade, and she nodded back.
“I’d like to buy you out,” Danno said before he’d even taken his coat off.
Ade could hardly hide her joy. “Can I get you a drink?” she asked.
Danno smiled and shook his head. Both he and Ricky were clearly in a hurry. “I’ve got to do my favor for Proctor soon,” Danno said, “And I think it would be a shame to have all of this power right now, only to go back to where I was when the belt is gone. Don’t you?”
Ade nodded. “I don’t want to sell, though,” she said, lying.
“You’re losing everything, Ade,” Ricky said. “Your territory is hurting, you’ve built no new stars, your gates are down hugely, and your contract with old Lance Root still has years to go.”
“I’m going to step out,” Danno said, rising from his seat.
“Why?” Ade asked.
“Ricky here is going to look after things,” Danno said. “I’m in a tight spot at the moment, Ade. I’ve got a lot of people breathing down my neck. I hope you understand.”
Danno kissed Ade on the cheek, picked up his hat, and left the room.
“So you’re his mouthpiece again?” Ade said to Ricky. She remembered that when Merv was killed, and Danno was next in line to take the title belt, it had been Ricky who came to her house and negotiated on Danno’s behalf.
“I’m doing a job,” Ricky said.
“How much?” Ade asked.
“Three hundred grand.”
Ade scoffed.
“That’s more than it’s worth,” Ricky said. “We both know that.”
Ade could hardly take the fucking business anymore. It had ruined her life and made a show of her, pulling her first one way and then the other. She couldn’t take these men anymore. Even the good ones like Danno seemed to be assholes.
“And you pay off Root’s deal,” Ricky said.
“Ricky—”
Ricky continued, “Danno can’t be seen buying up such a bad contract, Ade. Do you think Babu would be happy being the second highest paid wrestler on the roster? You made a bad call. You have to fix it.”
She thought about it for a second, but she didn’t have any wiggle room. “Deal,” she said simply. “Deal.”
The biggest match in the history of professional wrestling didn’t even happen. Danno was supposed to drop the heavyweight championship of the world to Proctor. He was to do it by ordering Babu to let Proctor’s son, Gilbert, beat him and become champion in front of a record crowd.
Instead, neither Babu or Gilbert made it to the match. They were driven by Lenny Long, fresh in the business, when Gilbert caused their van to crash.
Gilbert then lied to his father and said that Danno’s side was to blame.
Proctor, hearing that and seeing the huge injuries to his son, started a war. A war that Danno eventually won. At least, it looked that way.
As Danno was celebrating overturning Proctor, his wife lay dead on the floor of a motel room in Texas. Proctor heard what happened, and knew he would be suspect number one, so he immediately went into hiding.
1972.
San Francisco.
“You’re going to have to stop,” he’d said when he saw her carrying the bricks back toward the house.
Ade looked up and saw Proctor King standing submissively in her driveway. She had heard about Danno’s wife, too, and knew exactly why Proctor was standing in front of her. She was out of the business: no one would come looking. Even if they did, it would be after everyone else had been searched first.
“What are you doing?” he asked. His question sobered her up a little. She wasn’t really sure herself what she was doing.
“I’m not giving up, I guess,” she replied.
He approached her like a dog looking to get out of the rain. “I need your help,” he said. His head was bowed; his voice was broken. “I didn’t kill her.”
Ade knew he hadn’t. She threw her last brick down for the day and wiped her hands. Something in her head told her that she’d never come back to that house again. She felt neither happy nor sad, but was sure that was it for that house. It was time to move on and do what she wanted to do with her life.
“Fancy a motel room?” she asked.
Proctor was asleep in his single bed, tired from the flight. Tired from running. Ade sat on the edge of her bed, looking at him. He had been true to the end; he hadn’t fucked around. Even with only a couple of feet between them, she couldn’t even make him look—not that she wanted anything to do with him anymore.
Outside, she delicately dialed a number on the pay phone. She knew that she’d never get Danno, but Ricky was always available to do business on his boss’s behalf. The phone rang and rang, until eventually Ricky answered.
“Hello?” he said, sounding sleepy.
“I heard about Danno’s wife,” Ade said.
“Who is
this?” Ricky was clearly trying to wake up.
“It’s Ade.”
Ricky didn’t know what to say. He was caught in the middle of chaos and didn’t really have time for sympathy, especially from someone unimportant, like Ade was now. “I’ll tell Danno you called—”
“I have him here,” she said.
“What are you talking about?” Ricky asked.
“Proctor King. He’s here with me, now. Tell Danno that I’ll give him over for five hundred thousand dollars.”
“What?”
Ade replied, “Proctor told me that he had her killed, Ricky. I don’t want anything to do with that. Five hundred grand, and he’s yours.”
There was no pause to think; no permission sought. “Deal,” he said.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
1984.
Three days after Lenny got out.
New York.
Lenny was woken up by Jimmy banging on his window from the outside. “Incoming,” Jimmy shouted through the glass.
“What?” Lenny asked, unsure both of what was said and who was saying it.
“Uncle Babu,” Jimmy replied.
“What?”
“He’s here.”
The boy disappeared from Lenny’s window. It took a little while for his words to melt through Lenny’s layer of sleep, but when they did Lenny sat up immediately. “Uncle” Babu was coming to see him, and Lenny still didn’t know which way the giant was leaning.
He got up quickly and dressed even more quickly. He peeked out from his bedroom door and down the hallway. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, so he tiptoed into the kitchen—where Babu stood drinking coffee. Lenny froze.
“What are you doing here?” Lenny asked, trying to look surprised.
“I owe you an apology,” Babu said.
Lenny wasn’t expecting those to be Babu’s first words to him. “Oh yeah?” Lenny said. “Why’s that?” Lenny wanted the giant out of his father’s house before his father showed up.
“I’ve been keeping something from you,” Babu said.
In scenes like this, Lenny was hit all over again by just how massive Babu was. He didn’t fit well in a normal house. He was in the way of everything and unable to sit in the limited space around the kitchen table.
“What have you been keeping from me?” Lenny asked, not really wanting to know the answer.
Babu took a worn picture from his pocket. It was of Babu and Kid Devine—with Kid holding the world title. It wasn’t old; it had just been carried around too long in Babu’s pocket.
“Who’s that?” Lenny asked, keeping his eye on the door to see if his father was around.
“That’s your son,” Babu replied. “That’s Luke.”
Lenny wasn’t sure if Babu was fucking with him or not. He looked closer. He could see himself in there a little, maybe. “He likes wrestling?” Lenny asked, totally confused. Luke had always hated wrestling when he was a boy.
Babu said, “Look at him. He’s handsome. Big too.”
The more Lenny looked at the photo, the more the smile on his face grew. “He’s—all grown up.”
“I gave him the title,” Babu said.
Lenny, lost in the picture, wasn’t paying enough attention. “Oh yeah? Did he love it?”
Babu put his hand over the picture to get Lenny to focus. “He’s our new champion,” Babu said.
Lenny looked up expecting to see Babu grinning, but he wasn’t. “He’s … what?” Lenny asked.
“I should have given up wrestling years ago, but I couldn’t find anyone I could trust to hand the belt to.”
“What?” Lenny asked again.
“He’s the world champion.”
Lenny laughed a little; Babu didn’t. “You serious?” Lenny could tell, without Babu having to answer, that Babu was serious. “You brought my fucking child into the business?” Lenny asked.
Babu nodded. “Well, kinda. It was more Ricky than me.”
“Ricky is in on this, too?” Lenny began pacing. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
Babu caught Lenny’s eye. “He was a star in college—football and wrestling. His knee gave out on him, though. Ricky would roll with him when he was a boy, and he felt Luke had something. But he never encouraged anything, never put pressure on him to be anything.”
Lenny slammed his hand on the kitchen table. “What the fuck were you thinking? What was Luke thinking? He should have told the two of you to go fuck yourselves.”
Babu snatched the photo back out of Lenny’s hand. “He was thinking about putting food on the table, Lenny. I’m sorry to say it but things got real tough when you went inside. When your boy knew for sure that football was out for him, he immediately came down here looking for a break.”
“And you made him the fucking champion?” Lenny shouted.
“I did that for you. Who else was I supposed to hand it to?” Babu replied. “He was the one guy in the business who I knew wouldn’t go running to Tanner the second he had the title as leverage. Your boy is new and green as gooseshit—but he’s cut out for this business.”
Lenny just couldn’t imagine his boy as aggressive or athletic. Not the boy he knew. Not the boy he left.
Babu continued, “The locker room has given him hell. He can walk away anytime he likes, but he doesn’t. He’s driven. He wants the big money. And he’s young and cocky enough to think that he can get it.”
“And what do you think?” Lenny asked.
“I think he’s right,” Babu said. “I think he’ll make money.”
Edgar pushed open his front door and walked in with his arms full of grocery bags. Babu immediately stood taller. Lenny could clearly sense tension between Babu and his father.
“I left the door open,” Edgar said to Babu. “You should use it.”
“Yes, sir,” Babu said as he left the kitchen.
Jimmy passed Babu in the hallway and immediately hugged his massive leg.
“Hey,” Babu said, as he slipped the boy a ten-dollar bill. “How are you doing, little man?”
“Good. You’re not staying for breakfast?” Jimmy asked.
Babu looked back into the kitchen. The reception hadn’t been exactly warm. “No, I’ve got some things that need seeing to. I’ll catch you down the road.” Babu’s hand covered Jimmy’s head as he tousled his hair before leaving.
“I don’t want anyone from wrestling in my house again,” Edgar whispered to Lenny. “I fucking mean it.”
“I didn’t know he was coming,” Lenny said.
Jimmy stood in the hallway and listened to his father and grandfather talk in the kitchen.
“Things have been good around here. Calm,” Edgar said as he put away the groceries.
Lenny took some juice from the fridge. “I heard you,” he replied.
Edgar stopped what he was doing. Lenny could see that Edgar was nervous about the wrestling business creeping back into their lives.
“I know what I’m doing, Pop,” Lenny said. “I know how this game this works.”
“Me too,” Edgar replied. “I know how this works too. They keep you around and then when they’re done with you they get rid of you.”
“I won’t let them,” Lenny said.
“You think you have a choice in that, Lenny?” Edgar asked as he left the kitchen.
The apartment building had small, grimy corridors, plenty of doors, lots of noise, and kids running wild. This was where the world heavyweight wrestling champion lived. Lenny took a breath and knocked on the door of Apartment 26.
“Hello?” asked the voice from behind the door.
“Hello? Who’s that?” Lenny asked.
“You came to my door—who are you?”
Lenny paused. “It’s me. Lenny. Your—ah, father.”
Lenny heard the click of the lock opening and the removal of the safety chain inside. After a couple of seconds, Kid stood back and left his door slightly open. “Come in,” he said.
Lenny walked in slowly. The apartment was tin
y and clean, but it needed a lot of work. He could see that the bed was made and the dishes were washed and drying on the rack. It reminded Lenny a little of where he’d just come from. He kept looking around the room for something to fix on because Lenny couldn’t look his boy in the face.
“How are you?” Lenny asked.
“You want a drink?” Kid replied.
“Please,” Lenny said. He waited until Kid turned around before he stole a look at his boy. From behind his son was muscular and athletic, but not too thick. His ears were bent up and swollen, and he had an ice pack taped around his knee.
“Luke?” Lenny said.
“Can you call me Kid?” he asked.
“Kid?”
“That’s my gimmick. Everyone in wrestling calls me Kid.”
Lenny saw that his son’s face was handsome, and his hair was washed; he looked after himself.
“But you want me to call you that, too?” Lenny asked.
Kid took a soda from his tiny refrigerator and left it in front of his father. “I’m already getting the worst time just for being your son. Please don’t walk into the locker room and call me by my first name, too. They would never let me live it down.”
Kid made a whole lot of sense. Lenny took a seat by the window; the next building was close enough that he could nearly touch it. “I want you to try something else,” Lenny said. “Wrestling is a—”
Kid smiled. “Try something else? I’m the world heavyweight champion.”
Lenny looked around at Kid’s tiny apartment. “World champion can mean a lot of things.”
Kid sat down and put his feet up on his rickety coffee table. “I’m not leaving wrestling. I can make good money there.”
“And you can also get killed,” Lenny said. They paused. Lenny’s last sentence was a little too sharp for them both—but for different reasons. Lenny thought that he’d try to take a little heat out of the room. “How long have you been here?”
“Are we just straight into the small talk?” Kid asked. “Like we only seen each other yesterday, ’cause I got to get to the gym soon.”
Lenny wanted to hug him. He remembered him as a little boy. “You used to want to do anything except wrestle,” Lenny said.
“I remember a whole lot of things about you, too.” Kid stood. The sheer weight of his sentence hit his father hard.
