I. An Ending Is The Beginning

My fingers clasp the podium as the fingernails etched markings into it. I was leaving a part of my legacy no matter how much the old wood protested. The paper shuffling in my hand didn’t do wonders for the nausea I am feeling. The world seemed way too bleak in this moment, however those I was addressing directly wanted to hear my guidance, my words, to find the solace within them. I will say this, it’s probably not going to happen. The words I am about to read are a stark reflection of how I truly felt. Hope was a lost concept to me, but I could not let those sitting in those dusty old pews read me in any other way.

I let out a heavy sigh. “If you haven’t met me before and have only seen me on your television screens, I am Alexander Rodgers...err Stryker, the son of ‘Dangerous’ Duke Rodgers and the grandson of the person we are here to pay our final respects to: Stan ‘The Texas Gentleman’ Rodgers. There are people in this church I have met many times, and a few I have never seen before in my life, but we all have this connection to this man who lays before us. Contrary to public opinion, The Texas Gentleman was not gentle at all.” I paused for laughter and stiff giggles in the church.

“He was a hard hitting sonuvabitch that after kicking your ass would buy you a beer after a show and show you more respect for putting on a clinic than anything else. He taught me to always settle your debts with people, always be a better person and there will never be a problem in your life. He was always a fighter, even until his passing. He taught so many people the value of being not only a strong person, but a kind and compassionate one. I will continue to do you proud, Duke, and live for the legacy you set in stone.”

I let out another sigh while I watched as the conglomeration of people yell yeehaw, walking back to my seat in the front row I could hear my inspirational sonnet resonate with them. I don’t like speeches like that, the show of humility just shakes me to my core. You could say I zoned out during the other speeches, I was checked out. It wasn’t that I couldn’t pay attention, it’s that I didn’t care. The ugly platitudes they share of this persona, of this person they did not know in their own personal life. It might be hard for the truth to be said out loud but it needed to be said at least in my mind. I did not care. The relationship was rocky at best, did I care that he died? Yeah I guess, but life goes on and all I could wait for is the final words before I could finally leave this dimly lit, rundown, beat up old police station converted into a church. You could smell the stench of brutality that painted these now hallowed halls. I just hope the Chaplain had gotten rid of all the ghosts beforehand, not that I believed in any of that.

I both my eyes burrowing my chin in my chest, trying to forget the stench of this church. The more I thought about it, the more I hate it. The putrid catacombs of the HVAC system more than likely haven't been cleaned out in three decades, it was a microbiologist's dream. Full of mold and the potential to kill a thousand men at any given time. That musty smell was replaced by a familiar one, fresh lilacs and crisp vanilla. I kept my eyes closed not wanting to ruin the surprise.

“This seat taken, love?” she whispered into my ear.

“I don’t know, I was waiting for someone to join me in this grieving process. I guess you’ll do though.” I tried to contain some sort of laughter. I could feel her sharp nails dig inside my rib-cage. I grit my teeth, I wanted her to know how much it didn’t hurt, but it was god awful painful.

“Sorry I am late, the plane took forever to get off-boarding. Did you get to do your speech? How did it go?”

“A lot better than when I grab a microphone and talk down to everyone. Receptive. They all yelled ‘yeehaw’ like it was a damn rodeo.” I opened my eyes and cracked a smile. She is Morgan Crowley, the Heretic. She was poisonous, in the ring her hits were venomous and to get on her bad side was a fate worse than death.

“Shame.” I could tell she was defeated. It didn’t matter to her in the end. I spent many hours on the phone with her trying to perfect this perfect speech as the perfect grandson.

We spend the next hour trying to survive through the rest of these speeches while we had our own side-bar conversation. Morgan fills me in on the details of her tour of Japan. She loves it there, she treats her time there with the utmost respect and they gave it to her back ten-fold. She squeezed my hand for reassurance, I welcome it but didn’t need it, not for this moment anyway. She asked about my potential prospects in my career.

“Let me tell you a story…”

[A FEW WEEKS AGO]

I stood there with my arms folded in one another, snuggled like a deck of cards nestled inside a Casino dealer’s hand. My mentor and trainer Ricky Ruddo had summoned me into his office. He tried offering me a hard drink, but it was a hard pass from me. I had just won again for the 3rd time the BZW World Heavyweight Championship and the house came crumbling down right after it. I wasn’t upset, I was pissed. It was another momentous occasion for me all cut short because a company couldn’t stay afloat.

“You know they still owe me money, right?” I laid the facts down to Ricky. “I might just pawn this piece of shit championship.” I balled my fist, I was turning red hot. “Scratch that, this thing is being held hostage until they figure their shit out.”

“Alex, calm down.” Ricky was always on the edge trying to push me back from doing something constructive. I liked that about him, my polar opposite. He sometimes knew me better than he knew myself. “Listen, Alex, chill out. I got shit worked out. I am going to take care of all my kids that got orphaned by that place.” He reassures me, but to be assured I am not.

“Alright, go ahead.” I don’t really like where this is going, but at this point I am keen on just leaving. Nothing against him, it just wasn’t in the cards for me right now.

“Have you ever heard of PRIME? Out in Vegas?”

I looked at him cockeyed. “Of course, who hasn’t? It’s been around for a very long time.” I almost figured out where he was going with this, but wanted him to finish. He tells me how he knows a guy who knows a guy, you know the whole spiel he always gives about knowing everyone everywhere.

“Listen, I know the BZW closing was hard on everyone but I made some calls and got you a booking at PRIME. You can thank me later.”

[RIGHT NOW]

I in fact did not thank him later.

Telling this story back I left out a few details on how Morgan’s ex Brandon Walker was there causing a huff, a real woe is me attitude. He blames me for either breaking his leg, winning his championship, or he blames me for Morgan leaving him because he is too insecure? I did not care in the end. I had too much to deal with to baby someone. Good fighter, worse person. He’ll need to lighten up and overcome his own troubles eventually.

“PRIME, huh?” She leans into me. “You’ll do great there, I am sure of it.” This is the reassurance I had looked for. No hopeless platitudes in her voice, only a sense of security and safety. This long and drawn out sermon finally ended. I just wanted this day to be over with. I was not interested in handshaking with these people.

Morgan grabs my hand as we make our way towards the outside. I try to feel any emotion in relation to this, it did budge at all. No matter which door I enter and exit, the sadness was not there. It didn't even happen. I felt more annoyed scanning through all these people and their disingenuous sadness. As we were shifting our bodies in between the sea of people I felt a large hand clasp my shoulder, it was like Freddy Krueger's claw nestled deep inside my clavicle. I stop in my tracks, pulling Morgan’s hand as she stops in her own place. She takes a look at me confused before looking at the person who was behind me. I let out another heavy sigh, it was the theme of the day for me it seems.

“Mr. Rodgers, I would like to extend my deepest sympathies for the loss of your Grandfather. He was a good man.” I turned around slowly, trying to place the voice in my head. It was like listening to thousands upon thousands of hours of tape trying to figure out if I know this person or not. He gently let his stranglehold of me. I sized him up, he was taller than me, slender with a black suede trench coat laced with a matching trilby and a pair of oversized cheap looking aviators. His gruff gravely voice annoyed my nervous system to the core.

I grunt. ”Thanks, I really appreciate you for coming to the service. I know it would have meant a lot to him for you to be here Mr…” I narrow my eyes, trying to place this person I have never seen or heard of in my entire life.

“Thank you for that, Mr. Rodgers. I could tell that he meant a lot to you as well. The speech was fantastic, you clearly have a gift of the gab and writing it seems. This run down police station was the perfect spot for a church. The walls echo with the whispers of the past. I know God in Heaven has a purpose for everyone.”

I scoff. “Yeah, sure, I guess.” My head spinning, I wasn’t dizzy but dumbfounded at what I am listening to. This person whose name I still haven’t learned is droning on about god and heaven and I just can’t. “Listen Mr., I am glad you have made it, I am sure there are others around here who would like to reminisce about my Grandfather. We have to get going.”

“I will see you around, Mr. Rodgers.” He smiles. That lifeless smile is going to haunt me for the rest of my life. It was like staring at a sleep paralysis demon. Morgan tugged my hand, thank someone somewhere she is there to guide me out of there. She brings me outside and down the steps.

“Who the hell was that?”

“I…have…no idea.” The shiver left the back of my head down to my spine and I wasn’t ready to try and process who that person was or what he wanted from me.

“MY LITTLE ANGEL!” I could hear the pitter patter of my grandmother coming in and I automatically reached down as she wrapped her around my head kissing me on the forehead. “You are such a fantastic speechwriter, did Ms. Morgan help you out there with all that?”

“Well…”

“Of course I did, Mrs. Rodgers. He can’t write a thing to save his life. Everything else he showed me ended up in the bin.” She smiles as my Grandmother unclasps herself from my neck and embraces Morgan with an even bigger hug.

“Now, Morgan, you can call me Hera.” She reaches into her pocket book and pulls out a stack of cards. “Everyone here has been so sweet to me, I have gotten so many sympathy cards from so many people. I don’t even know the majority of the handwriting of these people, but I really appreciate the gesture.” She sighs. “I…” She stopped in her tracks. I understood that pain that she felt, she was still trying to process the loss in her own way. The way she cheered everyone up and was the team captain. She was the one who tried to make everything okay for everyone else at the expense of her own feelings.

“I know, Grandma, you don’t have to say anything else.” I held her hand, kissed it and she smiled at me. “Did you see where Dad and my Mother went?”

She turned around looking everywhere. “I know that your Father said that your mother felt faint and they went back to the house. He was very apologetic and told me he was going to come back after getting your Mother into bed and letting her rest, poor thing. I know she hasn’t been feeling the best these past few weeks.”

“Hera, did you hear that Alex is now wrestling for PRIME? Isn’t that exciting?” Morgan attempts to change the subject, but probably made things worse for me.

My Grandmother rolls her eyes, I knew something bad was about to happen from this direct line of questioning. “You know, Alex. I have been waiting and waiting for you to come back to Texas Outlaw Wrestling. It would do you some good if you came back and lead the charge around here. It is not the same without you around here. I could use a helping hand. You would think after that BattleZone place you would want to come home, just for a little while.”

I knew that guilt trip. I hate that guilt trip. I love my Grandmother to death but the guilt trip is going to get me killed one of these days. “Grandma, it’s not that simple. I could come back and believe me I will come back for a while at some point, but I am having a helluva time out on the road, going international and fighting. It’s different here. I could slap on a cowboy hat and ride the low-waves like my dad and Grandpa and just be complacent. I need to test myself. I need to test others. I can’t be stuck at one location wrestling in Rodeo halls.”

She huffs for a minute, I could see the despair in her eyes. I know she wants me close by but it is not something I could not at this point in my life. “Sweety, I just want what is best for you. You let me know at any time I will put you on the card. Top billing, just for you my little angel.”

I love my Grandmother more than anything in the world. It does pain me more to see her sad than it was being here. She was on the cusp of convincing me to stay. Just a little push and I would be already back in Texas full time, no more questions. It wasn’t as simple as that though. The three of us all standing there knew, time waits for no person. Standing still letting each second pass was another second that was wasted.

“Sweetheart, I am so glad to see you and Morgan, give me a call if you need anything from me. I need to mosey around and see all these people. Oh dear, I have no idea who some of these people are.” She places her hands on Morgan’s and mine, we share one last smile as she scurries away.

“Are you sure we can’t put a nice little cowboy hat on that noggin of yours? Give yourself a little razzle dazzle?” Morgan jokes, but I wasn’t laughing. I give her the sourest look in my entire life. I wretch at the thought of dressing like a cowboy. There is no purpose in that. She sighs at me, placing her head on my shoulder. “You are no fun, love.”

I grunt. She grunts back. It was our thing, I guess. “I still can’t shake who that person was. He looked like an accountant in a Mob movie. He looks like what Slenderman would have looked like if he had human skin on. That smile. If you tested my blood pressure, it probably would have shot through the roof.”

“Aww, is he making you a wee bit nervous?”

“Y…yeah he sure did. Who the hell was he?”

“Love, I have no idea. He might have been one of those fans from back in the day. He didn’t seem all there to begin with. I wouldn’t worry too much about him.”

I shake my head in disbelief trying to focus on something else. “Let’s get back to the hotel. I am tired, I am beyond annoyed, and another second here my head might explode.” I directed my focus back to my car as I get into the car. I let myself be distracted by turning the keys in the ignition, god that was a mistake because I lift my head up and see that man in the Trilby on the steps of the converted church staring at me and waving to me. I try my best not to look, not to give into this creature from the night.

I shift from being annoyed to paranoid. Who was that person? What does he want? Why does he creep me out? These are questions I want the answer to badly, but any time to solve or process them will lead me down the rabbit hole where I might not even be able to escape.

Finally I am able to slide the keycard, letting us into the hotel. I had calmed myself down. It wasn’t just the blaring of metal eclipsing my rental, having the window down and letting the wind guide me really helped me more than speaking to a therapist ever did.

“PRIME huh, I hear good things about that place. You know where you’re supposed to be at?”

“Salt Lake City, Delta Center I think I am going to be among the Mormons. Utah is alright I guess, doesn’t do anything for me like California or Texas. I got the info on my opponent too, Josh Conway. I have no clue who he is, I guess he was in Japan and Mexico for a while but I don’t think we ever faced each other. Searching for him on YouTube brings up some skateboarding dude. I have no clue. I hate going in blind.”

“Not everything is within our reach, Alex. There is going to be sometimes where you are the blind leading the blind. You of all people should realize that we are volatile creatures and are ever-shifting. Should be good that you don’t know a thing about him, it will keep you on your toes and ready for anything that happens. Humans are unpredictable and reading them while in that very ring out there is going to do you wonders.”

“Yes, Morgan. I…”

“No, you didn’t know. This is why I am here because you are not smart and I am smart, that is why we are here together, to balance each other out. You are the brute, and I am…well I am also the brute but I am also the smart one.”

“Yes, Morgan.” Sometimes I hate how right she is.

“Say my full name, please. Bask in my grace.”

“Yes, Morgan The Heretic Crowley, the Witch of Witches, blah blah blah.” I laugh. It was just as bad as I thought it through before saying it outloud.

“You sir, are a bully and a menace. I might just change the channel during your match.” She laughs. I stopped, grimacing at her before laughing again.

Moonlight Sonata starts to play, my pants pocket starts to vibrate. Another interruption in my life. I fumbled to grab my phone and it stops ringing.

“Well, who was it?”

I opened my phone, trying to figure out who called me. Pressing a few buttons leads me to the missed call screen and all I could see was RESTRICTED NUMBER.

“Who the hell is–” burdened by another interruption my phone goes off once more. RESTRICTED NUMBER flashes across the screen. I am not in the mood for this anylong.

I answer the phone. “HELLO. How can I help you?”

What is said back to me startles me to no end. “Alex Stryker, I have reason to believe that your grandfather was murdered. We will speak soon.” The caller hangs up.

“Alex? Alex? Who was that?”

My mouth was open like I had just seen an apparition. Morgan keeps shaking me trying to get me to express myself but I can only muster three words.

“What the fuck…?”