Act II: Climate Change: Ellis Jackson, The Remorse of a Roach

The Sea Roach: Ripples of Remorse.

I have never been ashamed of my past.

I can see that things I have done can be construed as immoral, greedy, or selfish.

HAHA.

I am now fifty years old though. I sit in my chair in the morning when I am putting on my shoes and occasionally a memory runs across my mind. I crack a smile and shake my head because when it all ends, I just shrug and think of how life got to this point.

You know…people might not believe this but my…OUR childhood was great. Maybe it wasn’t as normal as I thought it was back then because most kids don’t train in espionage and how to build a network of people and assets to solve ‘problems.’

Maude was the oldest…

…I was born second…

…JD was adopted as a baby a few years after me.

As the first male born I was meant to takeover after my father when he either retired or died.

Ellis Jackson, I would write in cursive…the fixer.

Every time I wrote it, I was hoping I would believe it, but it didn’t work. Instead, as we got older, I began to get jealous of the freedom JD had and the fun chaotic life Maude was living. The opposite of The Marine Biologist she has become, and it wasn’t me but HER that became the leader of a vast network.

For years after her marriage, I tried to stand out on my own.

I became a wrestler.

So did JD.

I became a champion.

So did JD.

I became a wrestling owner and promoter.

JD continued to win titles even my own.

Sigh

I lost it all and my supposed best friend in Thad Huber who betrayed me and the family (supposedly).  So, I took my personal grudges towards my own brother.

I would torment him.

I would try to take his money, take JDTV, and take EVERYTHING THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MINE!

Sigh

Instead…

…JD won tournaments, won more titles, was elected to Hall of Fames and retired on top…

…The KING.

I was already the forgotten past…The Corporate Raider.

It took a few years of apologies, but when Lawson told me he really didn’t care about the past and that family should forgive each other, I seethed. Not because he forgave me but because he never felt I was a threat to him back then. I was just a man having a temper tantrum to him and again I felt like I hadn’t done anything in my life.

The Octopus was my chance to prove that I not only demanded respect but that I should be the one calling the shots. I had the most intense training for running this organization but instead I was the right hand of my own sister.

‘I could do this,’ I would yell when I looked in the mirror.

But heh, I could do so much more.

I went around their backs. I met people my sister would not want to do business with and I shook their hands. I planned backroom deals and created underground tentacles that would only reach back to me. I didn’t believe there was a person that was bad enough to not speak to. Everyone had something they craved, and everyone had something they would hand over.

Information.

I needed it.

I thirst for it.

I did it all for the family though.

Well, that’s what I said at least to make myself feel better.

To end this curse, we have all been born into, I had decided to do whatever it took. It helped that I had an appetite for the finer things in life. I liked to look the part and spend money on whatever caught my fancy.

Clothes.

Boats.

Cars.

Women.

Offshore bank accounts that were not linked with The Octopus.

Unfortunately, “The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.”

It is obvious to me now that when I was asked to help initiate Steve Harrison into The Octopus it was because they wanted to know where I always was. It was a shrewd move by my sister, and it has since made me realize that she probably always knew what I was up to. She knew Steve would eventually snap and leave me a bloody and broken mess. I was left destroyed inside a wrestling ring. It seemed ironic to me that everything I held dear was always taken from me inside a wrestling ring.

I legitimately did it for the family, RIGHT!?!?

Well, every mirror I now broke in any place I stepped into. I didn’t want to look at myself if I could no longer believe my own lies.

My clothes were in tatters.

My boat had more leaks than my network obviously did.

My cars had flats.

The women only cared about my dwindling money.

I was nothing but a man on the run now and only Ren had stuck by my side. I was aware he had even less options though and I couldn’t stand his presence. He was someone that would sell his own family into slavery if it got him an iota of new power.

I was hopeful that if I found out what was in the lockbox that MY family would come to the negotiation table. It was the only thing I had left, and I knew how absurd it was.

Who gave a shit about this stupid lockbox?

Steve did.

Rebecca would…I assume.

Again, I never meant for my actions to hurt her.

I believed at the time that my sister was using Steves desire for this lockbox to get the money back that I had stolen.

That is what I would do, at least. Then again, she was different than me.

She would use this as a control mechanism, to further entrench him into The Octopus even when he was despising her actions.

But maybe…just maybe, she wanted the lockbox.

Heh, that was ridiculous to me.

I was getting nowhere in finding the key to this damn lockbox and at some point, I just stopped caring. If I was going to survive this ordeal, I needed Steve to care more about the key. The inner workings of The Octopus was just a cherry on top that I knew he would want.

When my nephew agreed to work with me, I knew he didn’t do it out of the kindness of his heart. He wanted the lockbox and if he could use me to help him, instead of fighting with him over the key that was a win for him.

He didn’t care about what my sister thought at that time, and I knew I could use that to my advantage.

I just needed to prove myself all over again and by doing so hope that Steve would tell his mother to have mercy on me.

Fucking pathetic, right?

Sure is…but a sea roach does what it must do to survive every environment, and I have survived a lot in my life.

I am keeping myself limber. I am lifting weights. I am working on my cardio. It wasn’t a joke…I will be back in that wrestling ring soon, my cherished forgotten love.

I was beginning to wonder when this nightmare would finally be done when my phone vibrated.

Kind of sad for New Years Eve, huh.

I put the steaming cup of ramen I was holding back on the hotel table. Being frugal has not been fun but finally I thought to myself as I read the text message, this nonsense might be ending.

“Meet me at The Miracle Milk Farm. Address to follow and I shouldn’t have to tell you to not tell anyone.”

Pfft.

As if I had to be reminded not to tell anyone.

Who the hell would listen anyway?

Ren?

I couldn’t help but laugh after that. I felt a weight was beginning to slide off my back. It didn’t matter that I had to rely on a nephew who had all the right in the world to despise me.

I was pitiful, but maybe I had become pitiable?

Maybe this was remorse.

Maybe…I could change…for good?

This time.

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