One Fall 09.25.11: Chapters 43 to The End

Thank you everyone who has been reading along. I’m honored you stuck with the novel to the final episode.

And thank you everyone who has been commenting, even those who were critical (or worse). The comments are part of the charm of 411, and even the nasty ones are and always have been welcome.

But a bigger thank you to those of you who’ve had nice things to say, either in the comments or in emails. I wanted to put this book up for free because it’s immensely fun and rewarding to have readers. I’m thankful for the opportunity to get the book in front of you.

I’ll be back next week in an entirely non-fiction installment to chit chat about the book and bid you farewell, at least until I have something more to say.

Until then, here is the ending of the novel. Enjoy!

CHAPTER 43

No one said anything as Joey and Jade walked through the backstage foyer to the arena exit. Every wrestler on the card was present to look upon them with curiosity, but none was bold enough to interrogate them. The entire roster of Revolution Wrestling had just watched their champion, their superstar, who put the asses in the seats and the zeroes on the paychecks, march silently from the locker room to the exit. Now they watched these newcomers, who brought the chaos of the old GWA with them, proceeding along the same path. And behind the newcomers walked Gene Harold, the legendary booker and mastermind of all that had gone right for Revolution Wrestling in the past year. The silent procession was worthy of a funeral.

The exit from the backstage foyer led to the parking garage. Lucifer held the door open for Jade, Joey, and Gene. Joey stepped across the threshold, thinking about what he was leaving behind. The door closed behind Gene, and on Joey’s life as a professional wrestler.

“Honey, wait up a second,” he said to Jade. She stopped walking, and turned to him with concern. She wanted to take him to a doctor. He had to resolve the night first. With great effort, Joey turned around and spoke to Lucifer.

“Why did you do it?” Joey asked. His voice was weak, almost not his own.

“It was the right thing to do,” said Lucifer. In the dull colors of the security light, his voice echoing off the cement ceiling, Lucifer seemed more spirit than man. Joey thought back to the lightening reflexes Lucifer showed when Max attacked him. Without question, this was the most intimidating presence Joey had ever met.

“Did you know everything?” Joey asked.

“I knew enough,” said Lucifer.

“I told him enough to make his decision,” said Gene as he approached the group.

“When did you two have time to talk?” Jade said to Gene.

Gene took a few more steps before answering, the uphill walk on his former wrestler’s knees obviously straining him. “I snuck away from my spot in the booth for just a minute,” said Gene, between breaths. “I didn’t tell James the whole story, just that you were getting screwed, Joey.”

Joey looked at Lucifer. The man bulged with muscles and veins, was covered in tattoos, and carried himself like a deity, but in his eyes was a thoughtfulness more suited for a philosopher. Somehow he reminded Joey of a child, who saw the world only in right and wrong, and for whom the proper course was always evident.

“So, you came out to the arena, you gave up your career, because I was getting screwed?” Joey asked him.

“I trust Gene,” said Lucifer. “He wouldn’t have talked to me if it wasn’t important. The integrity of this business means everything to Gene. It means everything to me also. It means nothing to Max. The decision was simple.”

“And he hardly gave up his career,” said Gene. “Neither did you, Joey.”

Joey wanted to smile at Gene’s faux optimism, but didn’t have the energy. He let his head sag and exhaled.

“Joey, tonight’s show was the beginning of a story,” said Gene. “It was a story I played out in my head many times over the past three months, from the minute I stumbled onto what Max was doing with the Family Television Group. I’d like for you and James to continue that story, with me.”

Gene wasn’t finished, but needed a pause in order to catch his breath. Joey considered sitting down on the concrete floor.

“Joey, Lucifer,” Gene continued, “I’m going to start a new wrestling promotion, and I’d like for you two gentlemen to anchor it.”

Joey felt a shock to his system, forgetting for a minute that he was past his physical limit. He looked at Jade, hoping to see as much surprise on her face as he felt at the way this night was unfolding. He did. In addition to surprise, he saw understanding.

“You orchestrated this whole thing,” said Jade, in a tone that was both indignant and appreciative.

“No, I just made sure everyone knew the truth before tonight’s match happened,” said Gene.

“Wrestling off the book was Joey’s decision. I must admit I had hoped he would make that decision, but nonetheless, he did it on his own.

“And, Joey,” Gene continued, “I’ve gotta say, I’m impressed. You showed some real guts out there tonight. You come wrestle for me, and I’ll make sure you take your proper place in history among the all-time greats. What do you say?”

“I…don’t know,” said Joey. He paused, trying to think of why he didn’t know. His brain seemed to be crawling. There was so much to say, but Joey couldn’t put the words together to say it. He wanted to tell Gene that he loved wrestling, that working for Gene Harold would be a dream come true, that he trusted him to do right, that he appreciated what Gene had orchestrated here tonight. But he also wanted to tell him that he hurt. His body hurt. He was tired of hurting. He just wanted to go home.

“The last few weeks have made me wary of the whole thing,” he said. “I’ll need to think about it.”

Gene nodded. “That’s fair. You’ve only seen the worst of our business, and that’s too bad, because it’s a great business. But you and I will be in touch. You’re going to do great things, and I want to be a part of it.

“So what about you, James?” Gene asked Lucifer.

Without hesitation, but also without haste, Lucifer nodded his head once. Joey was amazed at the power of the small gesture. With that nod of the head, Lucifer humbly proclaimed his trust in Gene Harold and his as-yet nonexistent wrestling promotion to properly handle the biggest star in the industry.

“Jade, I’d like you to wrestle for me as well,” said Gene. “I know that you may not be ready to commit yet either. Just know that in my promotions the women are wrestlers, not porn stars, and you’ll get the treatment a talent like yours deserves.”

“Thanks Gene,” said Jade. “I’m flattered, and I’ll think about it.”

Gene cracked a smile. Joey thought about what Gene had gone through tonight. When the evening began, Gene was the number two man in the business, having toiled in the trenches for thirty years to become the head booker of the only major promotion in North America. Now he was a nobody. But he had a vision for a new world of wrestling, and had the industry’s hottest commodity already signed up. Joey and Jade would help him get things going, but he didn’t need them. This night, and the carefully planned sequence of events that created it, were a wild success for Gene Harold.

“Well, you two should get going,” said Gene. “Joey, you might consider seeing a doctor to make sure your head’s alright.”

“I’ll make sure he’s taken care of,” said Jade.

“Gene, before you leave, one more question,” said Joey. “How did you know so much?”

Gene took a deep breath, then licked his lips. “Max doesn’t know the business,” he said, shaking his head. “Max assumed Larry and I would be loyal as long as Revolution was number one. So he wasn’t careful to hide his tracks. He was right about Larry; he was wrong about me. What Max didn’t know is that some of us are in this business because we love it, not because we want to be rich and famous. Max will never understand why paying Goliath to fake a real injury is such a slap in the face to those of us who built this industry. Goliath doesn’t understand it either. Neither does Duke. That’s why, even though Revolution is the only game in town right now, they’re already dead in the water. Not one person running that show truly understands professional wrestling.”

Gene stopped speaking to breathe some more. The poor man was a middle-aged physical wreck. He had sacrificed his youth and his body for his love of wrestling. He truly believed that sacrifice would have been for nothing had he not sabotaged Max’s big night. This was a man Joey could follow. Joey wouldn’t commit anything to Gene tonight, but some day he would.

“Well guys, I guess now is the time for me to say thank you, especially to you Lucifer,” Joey said.

“I only did what was right,” said Lucifer. “You did too.”

CHAPTER 44

To: Steve Garcia
From: [email protected]

Steve,

The Wrestle Slut

This was the most popular thread. Steve had more than a hundred emails so far that accused him of being part of an elaborate hoax. Of course, Revolution’s on-air reading of Joey’s statement did cloud the matter. Steve had to admire Max’s hutzpah. In reading Joey’s statement live on the air, just minutes after Steve had posted it, Max had defused the situation as well as he could. Why in the world would Revolution point people directly to the web site if Joey’s post was legitimate? Shrewd wrestling fans, used to being played, immediately suspected that the whole thing was fishy.

But there was another group, a smaller group, that was more (or perhaps less) cynical. These people believed it was all for real. It would take time, perhaps months, before the entire wrestling community knew the real truth, Max would make sure of that. But for now, Steve would have to find comfort in emails from those people who were willing to believe that some things in wrestling aren’t scripted.

To: Steve Garcia
From: [email protected]

Steve,

Bruno Stanton
New York

At one time, Steve received regular emails from Bruno Stanton. Bruno was a longtime reader of the Tuesday Hangover. But when Steve started the FTG crusade, Bruno, and a hundred people like him, disappeared. Seeing Bruno’s name in the Inbox, couched among lots of familiar but long-absent names, brought about an unusual nostalgia in Steve. He was accustomed to thinking of the past few years as an unmitigated failure. Now he wondered, for the first time in memory, if that time was well-spent.

When Joey’s statement was read on the air, traffic on Wrestlinghotline.com shot through the roof. Sensing a once in a lifetime opportunity, Steve immediately posted the story, the complete story, about Max Zeffer’s payoffs to Goliath and the FTG. He opened the story with a new paragraph:

Greetings. It is now nine o’clock on Sunday night, and Joey Mayhem’s statement, recently posted on this web site, has just been read live on the air to everyone watching Apocalypse.

Slugs, what you are about to read is entirely true, and comes from very credible sources. Be forewarned, for fans of Goliath or Max Zeffer, the truth isn’t pretty.

The column went on for close to four thousand words, Steve’s longest ever, with every detail included. Traffic on the web site increased steadily for the next three hours, as news of the shoot fight and accompanying expose on Wrestlinghotline spread to those who hadn’t purchased the pay per view.

By Monday morning, it was safe to say that the entire wrestling community had read Joey’s statement and Steve’s column.

Now, on Monday afternoon, with traffic finally starting to slow down, Steve was ready to post his third and final shocker, his interview with Jade. Of all three columns, he was most proud of this one, entitled, “What You Never Knew About the GWA Locker Room: An Interview With Jade Sleek.”

The column was written in Question/Answer format, beginning with the story of Jumbo’s attempted rape of Jade and Duke’s silence on the matter. In three devastating pages, Jade explained to the entire wrestling world how Duke first ignored her charge, then dropped her to the bottom of the roster. She explained how a group of veterans grew jealous and ultimately bitter at Joey Mayhem’s success, culminating in Jumbo pissing in Jade’s gym bag. She described in detail the backstage fight between Joey and Jumbo, and the aftermath. And she recounted the life of a woman wrestler in Duke’s GWA, where bikini wrestling in horse manure was a job requirement.

Steve watched the file transfer run to completion, made a pass on the live site to ensure that the newest column had properly posted, then closed his web browser. He was done. He felt relief, but also sadness. He wondered if he would ever again experience exhilaration like that of the past few days.

Back to the email box, where Steve hoped to plow through all five hundred of his unread messages. His eyes immediately picked out one from the hundreds. He opened it.

To: Steve
From: Anonymous

Dear Steve,

Anonymous, aka Gene Harold

Steve clicked on reply. As he typed his response, an acceptance, he realized everything in his life was about to change.

He clicked Send. Then he pulled his hands from the keyboard and took a big breath through his mouth. In the past week he had flown to Canada to make a cold call on Joey Mayhem, a wrestling megastar, then boldly challenged his well-connected Anonymous source, then written and published a column that shook the entire foundation of North American wrestling, then watched in stunned surprise as it was read live on the air. Now he had just sent an email that would soon result in him moving out of his mother’s house and living the life of his dreams.

But it was his next task that made him truly nervous.

Three hours earlier, he had done a search for Irene Maxwell, from Rosemont, Illinois, age 24, on a person locator web site. It cost him $4.95, and it found for him the address and phone number of the love of his life, the one that got away.

She lived in Philadelphia. Her address suggested she was in an apartment complex. She still had her original last name.

“You only live once,” Steve said aloud as he picked up the phone.

It rang twice before a woman answered, a woman he hadn’t spoken with since she was a girl, but whose voice was still familiar.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hello, is this Irene?” Steve asked, knowing the answer.

“Yes, it is. Who’s calling?”

“Hi Irene. This is Steve Garcia.”

CHAPTER 45

Joey landed flat. The powder blue ring mat clapped against his bare back.

These rings weren’t the greatest. Constructed of plywood boards and tarp, they gave almost nothing to the poor wrestler who landed on them.

Such was life in an independent promotion.

A week after his infamous shoot fight with Goliath, Joey signed a contract with Gene Harold to become the newest member of The International Wrestling Consortium (the IWC), Gene’s upstart promotion. Jade signed on as well. They both agreed to work for minimum wage plus a percentage of the gate.

Since then, they had been touring the Great White North. Gene correctly predicted that a promotion featuring Joey Mayhem, Lucifer, and Jade Sleek, would be an immediate draw in Canada’s most active wrestling towns, with or without a television contract.

The IWC’s premier show was in Vancouver, three weeks to the day from Apocalypse. They performed in front of five thousand fans at the New Johnson Arena. Following Steve’s advice, Gene arranged for the show to be taped by a freelance recording crew, and then distributed for free on the Internet.

When the IWC put on its second show a week later in Winnipeg, they sold out the Queensbury Coliseum, selling eight thousand tickets. Again, the show was taped and the footage distributed for free over the Internet.

The next show was in Montreal; the week after in Toronto.

Tonight’s show, in Edmonton, had gathered fifteen thousand in Alberta Memorial, a crowd worthy of a major promotion with a national TV contract. The main event would feature Lucifer versus newly signed Flash Martin, in the first ever IWC World Title bout.

Before that match could go on, the crowd needed to be warmed up. That was Joey’s job tonight. He was wrestling against Matt Allen, a kid from Maryland whom Gene had been watching for over a year.

The kid had spunk, and the crowd was taking to him. Tonight, Joey wanted to give the kid a good rub before pinning him. Doing so required Joey to play the part of being in trouble. He had just fallen flat from his second straight back body drop. Matt followed up with an elbow to the sternum, then a knee drop to the face. Joey sold the moves like Matt was a seasoned veteran. The crowd’s reaction was mixed. They enjoyed seeing the new guy get some offense, but most of them were marks for Joey Mayhem.

“Hit me with something off the whip,” Matt whispered to Joey, before picking him up. Joey was impressed. His first match in a real promotion, and this kid was already calling spots. Joey followed the instructions, allowing himself to be whipped into the ropes. Joey bounced off the ropes and sprinted back towards Matt, whose left hook was too slow, allowing Joey to duck under. Joey ran to the opposite ropes, bounced off, and came flying back at Matt with a forearm. The crowd cheered at the change of pace.

Both men were now down on the mat. “Smack me off that exposed turnbuckle,” Joey whispered to Matt.

In one of many revolutionary changes, Gene had instituted what he called a “night-long story in the ring.” Gene promoted telling stories that continued from one match into the next, and the next after that. As such, the metal turnbuckle that was exposed from beneath its soft padding (a classic dastardly trick) by Reston Howard in the previous match, was still available for use in this bout.

Paying heed to his elder, Matt did what he was told, and, after stumbling to his feet, led Joey right to the corner, where he smashed Joey’s forehead into the metal turnbuckle.

The poor kid was overexcited and smashed Joey too hard. The skin on Joey’s forehead broke open and began bleeding profusely.

As Joey stumbled back to sell the injury, he saw a look of fear on Matt’s face. Having spent the better part of the last year petrified of making a mistake in the big leagues, Joey understood the look in Matt’s eyes, the look that said, “Oh no,” and “I’m so sorry.”

Knowing he shouldn’t, knowing the Internet would jump all over it, Joey decided to communicate to Matt that everything was okay. Right before falling to the hard plywood mat, with blood gushing over his face in a crimson mask, Joey looked right in Matt’s direction, and winked.