Post by "The Fabulous One" Dan Fierce on May 16, 2016 18:30:21 GMT -5
Thirteen Year Itch - Chapter Five
"I really need someone to talk to." Dan's voice cracked as he choked back the emotions. The person on the other side of the phone conversation gave her reply. "About an hour? Okay." He paused for another response. "Oh, gurl. I know how that travel schedule is. WGWF* has us all over hell's half acre and Timbuktu." Dan's friend retorted, bringing a light chuckle out of him. "I wish we could meet face-to-face, Mari. It's been so long."
Mari and Dan traded a few more pleasantries before the brief conversation ended. Dan smiled weakly at his phone, the glimmer of his teeth fading as he placed it in his pocket. He breathed deeply as he hailed a passing taxi. The car screeched to a stop next to him, a Jamaican man with dreadlocks and a Swisher Sweet cigarillo hanging out of his mouth grinned from the driver seat.
"Where you gon' go?" His flawless dark complexion, thick Caribbean accent, and bloodshot eyes only added to the nearly automatic stereotype that popped in Dan's mind. The Bob Marley CD playing did nothing to dissuade it. Then his mind reasoned about the shoe on the other foot.
"Golden Gate Bridge Park, please." Dan knew he could stroll around the park for an hour and lose himself in his thoughts without anyone really paying him an iota of attention.
The cabbie started the meter, cranking up Marley singing "Rainbow Country" as Dan mounted the back seat and closed the door. Dan looked at the license on the dashboard. "Jacen Curtina" was his cabbie's moniker. His head bobbed in rhythmic time to the music as they began their jaunt.
The five mile drive would have been insulting to pay a cab fare for in a lesser city, but in the crowded streets of San Fran, it was a worthy investment, especially if one didn't want to deal with doing the drive themselves. A mile for each finger, but the traffic would make it easily three times that in minutes with no real hiccups. Then there would only be one finger that would be necessary.
They arrived at the maw of the park, a huge sign beckoning tourists of all sorts to enjoy the facilities. Dan decided that the Botanical Gardens southeast of Stow Lake would be a great place to relax before Mari called back. It might be nice to see the variety of flowers they had for sale and for plant aficionados. A little beauty could put this ugliness in perspective.
Dan had been enjoying himself in the Gardens, lost in crocus and gardenia alike, when the phone vibrated in his pocket like a misguided bee against his leg. Had there been one of their high elevation palm trees nearby, the volunteers of the Garden may have very well had to peel Dan from atop the spray of fronds at the crown. The serenity of the library-like atmosphere shattered by his shriek of surprise, Dan yanked the offending device from his pants and flipped it open without looking at the caller I.D.
"Hello?" he snapped.
"Uh," started the female voice, taken aback by the tone. "I was supposed to call you, remember?"
Dan breathed a sigh of relief, quickly excusing himself to the nearest exit to prevent causing another scene. "Holy shit, Mari," Dan giggled at himself as he made haste to someplace a bit less tranquil. "The phone scared the ever-loving hell out of me."
Dan explained what happened. Even Marisol Hawkes had a good laugh at her friend's expense before they got down to the less light-hearted business. "So what's wrong, baby? Who's ass do I need to kick?"
Dan chuckled a bit, but his eyes glared a hate that almost took her up on her offer. "Brian cheated on me," he stated , matter-of-factly. The silence on the other end caused Dan to check his phone to see if the connection had been lost. "Hello?"
"I'm here," Marisol reassured. "I'm just... Speechless."
"Yeah," Dan replied softly. "I know the feeling." Dan brought Marisol up to speed on the transgressions that led to their telephone reunion. As he did, he found a nice secluded park bench overlooking Stow Lake where they could have their conversation in relative peace.
"He didn't want you talking to anyone about it?" Marisol scoffed. "How is that even fair?"
"That's why I called you," stated Dan. "That, and you've sort of been through this with Marc. Are you two still together?"
There was a long silence before Marisol answered. "No. He cheated on me again. I kicked him to the curb. I don't know if I am the one you really need to be talking to over this, Dan. Maybe you both should see a couples counselor or something."
"I dunno. Brian absolutely hates spending money on things like doctors and therapists. He thinks they're a waste of time and money."
"Well, in my jaded opinion," she informed, "once a cheater, always a cheater."
Dan sighed deeply, knowing that this conversation wouldn't provide the answers he sought. They talked for a little while longer before he heard the airport P.A. system call out Marisol's flight. The distant friends gave salutations as she hurried to catch her departure. Dan snapped the phone shut, somberly shaking his head.
"Do you mind, young man?"
Dan looked up to see an elderly man and woman, both rather miniscule in stature. The lady peered up at him with maternal kindness, her chest heaving from effort. Dan scrambled to his feet in a move that almost startled the old timers.
"Oh my gawd!" Dan exclaimed. "I'm so sorry. Yes. Have a seat, please." Dan assisted the matriarch to the bench. "Are you okay, hun?"
The elder gasped as her husband sat next to her. "You're very kind, dearie. I just can't go as far as I used to when I was your age." She coughed a bit, her voice crackling from effort.
"Just breathe, Maude." The old man looked at Dan with aged, yet soft eyes. "She'll be fine, son. Just needs to catch her breath is all."
Dan watched in worry for several minutes until her labored breathing finally eased. He observed the tenderness of the man as he held her hand, stroking it lightly, encouraging her, the light in his eyes only matched by hers as they looked at each other. She nodded once she began to feel better.
The bittersweet of witnessing this enamored pair of octogenarians piqued Dan's curiosity. "If you don't mind me asking, how long have you two been together?"
"We've been married for sixty-seven years," replied Maude. "Herbert and I met during World War Two."
"I know I'm a stranger to you, but I could really use some advice. Would you mind?" The pair hesitantly nodded, so Dan gave them the run-down. For a few seconds, he even worried that the couple might turn tail and run once they caught on that he was speaking about another man.
The elderly woman cupped Dan's face tenderly, wiping away the tears as a mother would her own child. "That's horrible," she cooed.
"How have you guys stayed together for so long?" Dan inquired. "I don't want what I have to end."
"Simple. We lived in a time," started Herbert, "where if something got broke, we fixed it. Appliances, cars, even marriages. Trouble with society nowadays is that people just throw everything away. Even their feelings."
"I..." stammered Dan. "I don't know if this can be fixed."
"Honey," soothed Maude, "Anything worth keeping is worth fixing." She slowly rose, both Dan and Herbert helping her. "Well, we best be on our way."
"I was worried that I'd offend you, considering who I am." Herbert and Maude both laughed and smiled at Dan for his ignorance.
"We may be 'old school,' as you kids say," chimed Herbert, "but we've lived in San Francisco our entire lives." They waved meekly as Dan thanked them for their sage advice. He knew what he wanted. Now it was time to see if Brian was on the same page.
"The naysayers always amaze me," began Dan, taping a video blog post while wandering through the same park that sparked part of his unfortunate memory. "'You're too old, Dan.' 'Why haven't you hung up your tights, Dan?' And of course, my favorite, 'You're not a "used-to-be," you're a "never-was."'"
Dan smiled Broadly at the camera phone. "Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, makes me happier in this world than to take something someone says I CAN'T achieve, and make it a reality. It happened at Manifest Destiny when Tristan Slater thought he'd breeze right by me. Guess what? Still in it, bitches!
"Yeah, I know it's a bit childish and unsportswomanlike of me to thumb my nose at him, but when arrogant pricks like to toot their horn, I enjoy letting them know they have a kazoo. The doubters are even present here in PCW. I hear the rumblings backstage. I see the writing on the wall.
"Now, I'm not so caught up in myself to think that I have this locked in, that I'm going to win the Icemann Invitational. None of this has been a cakewalk for yours truly, and the rest of the road is just as rough.
"First I have a semi with Nathan Saniti." Dan paused, his gleaming grin widening coyly. "Semi. Final. Get your minds out of the gutter. He's no slouch, for sure. He worked every bit as hard as I did to get to this match, so kudos to him. There are a few things that make me think I can get past him though.
"There's the distraction factor of all of the people he's apparently pissed off. Those Disney goons, or forest creatures, or whatever they will be next week, have already stated that they are going to target Kelli in order to get to him. I may not have been here that long, but considering what I've seen of the Mad Magician, do they really think that's wise?
"The other thing is Murdoc. Now, I only know what I've researched on this guys by watching past Traumas, but he doesn't seem like the forgive-and-forget type. He has a grudge against Nathan and at 192, Nathan basically kicked a bee's nest while wearing honey underwear when he tricked Murdoc into sticking his hand into that hat and getting a hatpin in his hand. Not. Good.
"I'm not even sure it's going to be safe to be in the ring with Nathan, not because of the competitor he is, but because of WHO he is. All of these people want blood payment of some kind.
"I've known Nathan since his early career in XWF and WGWF. He's grown a lot, and he seems to have really blossomed here in PCW. Here's the thing though; mama ain't no fool. I won't fall for his tricks. This is a wrestling match, not Las Vegas. Penn and Teller called. They want their act back. As for the rest of the possible interference, let me just say this: Keep your bullshit out of my match and I won't have to bare my claws. Get involved, and this old bitch will send any of you packing without a second thought.
"For me, Living a Legacy will have a far different and deeper meaning. This is my last chance to finally do what I've waited so long to do, and that's to put the final nail in the coffin of those who tell me I can't. I'm here to tell you, not only that I can. Bitch, I fucking WILL. I will go into this pay-per-view with my head held high. I will get into that ring and give it my all. And I absolutely will come out of it showing the world that I am capable of not only leaving a legacy, but living one."
