Driving Off the Edge

The stark white walls of Reno, Nevada’s St. Mary's Regional Medical Center seem to close in on Sunny O'Callahan as she strides down the hallway, her frizzy blonde hair bouncing with each determined step. The antiseptic smell burns her nostrils, fueling her rage. Her fingers tremble as she pulls out her cell phone, punching Lindsay Troy's number with barely contained fury.

"What the hell, Lindsay," Sunny snarls harshly into the voicemail, her Irish lilt sharpening. "As far as I'm concerned, what happened to Adam last night is one hundred percent on you. 'Mr. Lifetime contract' Ivan Stanislav turned that ring into a slaughterhouse and nobody... not you... not your 'security'... no one lifted a finger to help Adam."

Sunny's free hand clenches into a fist, her nails digging into her palm. She can still hear the sickening thuds of Ivan's fists connecting with Adam's unresponsive body. The memory makes her stomach churn.

"And don't think I've forgotten how I made clear that the second I thought things were getting out of hand I was throwing the towel to stop the match.  Your referee Elvis Nixon committed malpractice last night.  He saw and let Wilhelm Kael manhandle me when I tried to throw in the towel and didn’t do a goddamn thing to protect Adam when it was clear the match was over," she continues, her voice rising. "I had Drew Mitchell and the Alabama Gang as backup if Ivan or the other Red Army sociopath at ringside got physical with me.  Why were they stopped from coming out but yet you let Tiger fucking Jackson do a run-in on Bryan Dawkins earlier in the night. Guess what...  your security sucks and Adam never should have been booked against Ivan in the first place.  This whole thing was a goddamn travesty!"

She terminates the call with a vicious jab of her finger, her chest heaving. Sunny leans against the cold wall, closing her eyes. God, I need a drink, she thinks, craving the burn of Southern Comfort to soothe her frayed nerves. The chaos of the previous night replays in her mind - the roar of the crowd, the thud of bodies on canvas, and her own desperate screams lost in the mayhem.

"Some mentor I turned out to be," Sunny mutters to herself, guilt gnawing at her insides. "I should've done more."  She approaches the nurse's station, her frizzy blonde hair a wild halo around her face. She plasters on a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, the effort visible in the tightness of her jaw.

"I'd like to see Adam Ellis, please," she says, her voice carrying a hint of forced cheer.

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Ellis checked himself out earlier this morning."

The nurse's response hits Sunny like a sucker punch to the gut. Her heart plummets and Sunny’s carefully constructed facade crumbles. "He what?" she asks, her Irish lilt more pronounced in her shock.

“Mr. Ellis checked himself out earlier this morning.”

Sunny feels the world tilting beneath her feet. "But... he was supposed to be under observation!" she protests, her voice rising with each word.

"He insisted on leaving," the nurse explains, reaching into a drawer. "Quite adamant about it, actually."

“How?”  Sunny's mind races, images of Adam's battered body flashing before her eyes.

“Trust me, we were surprised as well, ma’am.  Especially the way he looked when he was brought in last night.”

Sunny imagines him stumbling out of the hospital. Her throat tightens.

"Did he say where he was going?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Home.”

“Home?”

The nurse shakes her head. "All he said was 'home.' That's it."

Sunny's shoulders slump. Home?

"He did leave a couple of things behind, though," the nurse adds, pulling something from the drawer.

As the nurse places Adam's wedding ring, a cell phone, and a picture of Adam, Ginny, and Abbigail on the counter, Sunny feels the blood drain from her face.

"Oh shit," she whispers, her mind racing.

***

The asphalt ribbon of Interstate 80 west of Reno and past the California-Nevada state line unfurls before Adam Ellis, a blur of yellow lines disappearing beneath the tires of Adam’s rental car as he pushes the speedometer past 90.  Adam's face is bruised and bandaged up and a shirt and jacket cover up the other injuries from last night's match.

“”Well, I can feel it changin' in every moment, every hour Lives start rearranging, and the sweet things all turned sour…”

The twangy chords of 49 Winchester's "Leavin' This Hollar" fill the car, the video and song playing from a YouTube app on his phone, its bittersweet melody a soundtrack to Adam's inner turmoil.

“Tried to take one for the team and stick around Try to make things what they should be But I can't, not in this town.”

His knuckles are white on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched tight. The gentle giant's eyes, usually warm and inviting, now stare blankly ahead… one eye on the road… one eye on the video that’s playing on his phone.  A hand mindlessly reaches forward and turns the volume up as the song hits the chorus.

“So I'm leaving this holler Leaving the heartache And I'm leavin' the way things used to be…”

The video switches back and forth between a bar setting with lead singer Isaac Gibson… baseball cap… long brown beard reminiscent of ZZ Top’s Billy Gibbons… playing acoustic guitar and Maggie Antone… a young, up and coming country singer from Virginia... performing the song…

"I will not be returning My spirit is still yearning For a chance at being happy, Lord, and free..."

…and a small, white picket-fenced area with Gibson sitting in front of a camper and Antone with one foot in and one foot out of the door, miming the song.

“And those chains they use to bind me I'll break 'em off and find me a lover who will never let me down..."

Adam notices that the female singer looks the spitting image of Ginny in the white tank top and a pair of blue jean overalls with one side unhooked and flapping down in front of her... all except for her black hair… Ginny’s is bright red.

“Well, a brand-new start and a clean-washed heart And I'll be good to go Well, they say that you can't keep a good man down I'm skippin' town.”

Without warning, Adam jerks the wheel hard, cutting across three lanes of traffic to catch the exit for Boca, California. Horns blare behind him, but he doesn't flinch.

“Well, I hate to waste my time here I ain't got but so much left I'm tired of running from the question When the answer is the test..."

The two-lane Stampede Meadows Road stretches out before him, winding through the mountain landscape as the second verse of the song begins.

"And I thought it would be easy Let the chips fall how they will Oh, I know that I got love to give But I ain't got time to kill."

He passes by the Boca dam, the Truckee River glinting below on one side while the water expands behind the dam into a large reservoir.

"So I'm leaving this holler Leaving the heartache And I'm leavin' the way things used to be I will not be returning My spirit is still yearning For a chance at being happy, Lord, and free..."

Adam takes the sharp right onto Hinton Road, tires squealing in protest while the car makes a 180 degree turn and comes an abrupt stop.  He looks out at the Boca Reservoir spread out before him, 150 feet away across the road and down a hill.

"And those chains they use to bind me I'll break 'em off and find me a lover who will never let me down..."

Adam stares out at the water and lets the waves of music wash through him.

"Oh, a brand-new start and a clean-washed heart And I'll be good to go Well, they say that you can't keep a good man down I'm skippin' town."

Adam leans back in the driver's seat and lets the music seep through his skin, listening to Guitarist Cole Chafin… who resembles Val Kilmer as Doc Holliday in the movie Tombstone… play a slow building, spellbinding solo that brings in the Czech National Symphony Orchestra and a choir for the final chorus.

"So I'm leaving this holler (leaving) Leaving the heartache And I'm leavin' the way things used to be (used to be) I will not be returning (return) My spirit is still yearning For a chance at being happy, Lord, and free (free)..."

The song reaches its crescendo towards the big finish with Chafin’s guitar soloing under the soaring background vocals from the choir, saturating the car in a sonic tour de force of sound.

"And those chains they use to bind me (chains, I'll break) I'll break 'em off and find me a lover who will never let me down (let me down) Oh, a brand-new start and a clean-washed heart and I'll be good to go Well, they say that you can't keep a good man down (good man down)…"

Adam shifts the car into reverse and backs up a few feet.  He puts the car in park… takes a deep breath… and revs up the engine.

"…I'm skippin' town."

FIN