Beginning of the End of the Beginning - Part One

[Joey "The Handyman" Handy]

Beginning of the End of the Beginning - Part One 

"YOU DID WHAT?"



I had gotten used to my wife's screeching over the years. Considering the circumstances, I should have known her reaction, but this was even a level of ear-piercing shrill even I was unprepared for. Things had been getting worse between us for several years, ever since I lost my home architecture business in Kansas City after the housing bubble burst. We had gone from a million dollar Downtown condo, to a three bedroom ranch on the outskirts of Kansas City. My wife hated it, but the schools were far better for the kids, and the payments were more affordable.



"Daddy's in trouble," sang my nine year old daughter jokingly from the kitchen table with a sly giggle.



As I looked at her, I think she saw the worry in my eyes. She was my princess, but she was certainly her mother's "mini me." A sadistic gleam shone in her eyes, and a slight smirk grew in the corners of her mouth, as she pretended to play with her dolls on the table, taking far more interest in the conversation at hand.



I turned to her and spoke softly. "Sweetie? Why don't you go on up to your room and play there, okay? Mommy and I need to talk about adult stuff."



She continued to play meekly, ignoring my request at first. It wasn't until she peered over to her mother and got an authoritative nod that she reluctantly obeyed the suggestion. Nadine was like that. She had a power over our kids, a level of respect that I never seemed to achieve. I think it was because she had been a housewife during their formative preschool years.



Our son, Nicholas, had become a teenager in March, but had pulled back from as much family contact as possible before then, retreating into his bedroom to play video games or whatever it was that occupied teenaged boys' minds. (I knew. I just didn't want to think about it.) He usually had headphones or a headset on, his television blasting so loud that the New Madrid fault could snap, and he'd think it was just another cool effect from his Fallout 213 game, or whatever it was. We likely wouldn't be seeing that particular caveman unless meat or cookies were involved. Nevertheless, I didn't think it was wise to disturb him, either.



"Could you keep it down, please?" I suggested to Nadine as Anna had finally packed up her toys and left.



"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" she growled through gnashing teeth. "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?"



I could feel another headache coming on, but I had prepared for at least a little anarchy from this decision and had taken some Excedrin beforehand. I had also brought a copy of the contract to show her that she would be taken care of if things went badly. I showed her the potential paycheck, even if I was on the losing end. She remarked, with no shortage of venom in her voice, that would be the check most likely to hit our accounts.



"So who is this Alex Black?"



"Alexa," I corrected, somewhat ashamedly. "She's a..."



"Alexa? She? You're fighting a woman?" Her mood went from rage to incredulity. She scoffed as she spoke. "You're going to get your teeth kicked in by a woman in front of millions of people on a pay-per-view? I hope our kids can face their friends at school."



I couldn't stand it anymore. I dialed up the snark in my voice to match hers. Things didn't usually go well when I did that, but I didn't care. "Well, with a wonderful person like you supporting me at Collision Course, how could I possibly fail?"



"You're fighting Alexa Black?"



The voice of my son from behind me startled me so much, that I let out a small squeal and jumped, which only fed my wife's doubt, and caused my son to go into a full belly laugh for a few minutes. Fantastic. My heart was racing like Dale Earnhart, Jr. in the Indy 500, and they were having a time with it. Anna reappeared to see what the commotion was about.



"What's so funny?" she squeaked.



"Your father is fighting a woman on television and your brother scared him, princess." The vitriol in her voice almost matched the sadism in my opponent's.



I felt my face flush red with embarrassment and rage, but I kept my temper as even as I could. Unlike my wife, I didn't like to let my children see the disdain that had grown between us these last few years.



My son had regained control. "So... Alexa Black? She's my favorite! Could you get her autograph for me?"



"Oh great. I'm going to get killed by my son's idol," I thought. "Technically, I already have it on the contract. Do you wanna see?" I collected the paper from our kitchen island as my kids drew in for a closer look. I pointed out the scrawling on the lower left side.



"She'll probably be the first in line to sign the cast she puts him in," jabbed Nadine without remorse.



If this were a sit-com, there would probably have been a laugh track put there for emphasis. Somehow, the desire to laugh had long since left this conversation for me, and I knew she didn't mean it as a punch line.



My son marveled at the signature as if it were the most amazing thing he'd seen, a reaction I hadn't gotten from him in years. Anna was less impressed, but the figures in the fine print certainly caught her attention.



"WOW!" she exclaimed. "You're going to get ten cajillion dollars?"



Suddenly, my son took a severe interest in the small print. He squinted to better concentrate. He muttered as he read the financial paragraph. "Whereas the loser of this match shall be paid no less than ten thousand dollars, and the winner shall be paid no more than twenty thousand do..." His eyes grew wide, sparkling with possibilities. "You get 20 G's for winning against Alexa Black?"



A spark of pride and hope grew in my heart. Nadine quickly dashed that shit.



"Don't get your hopes up," she quipped hurtfully. "It'll most likely be the ten thousand."



"...Which is still a better paycheck that I get for three months, normally." I shot her a defiant look. "We'll have a good Christmas at least."



"...Even after the hospital bills."



"Goddammit, Nadine! Can't you, just this fucking once, be supportive? Is that too much to ask?"



Both of my children were gobsmacked by the reaction. They had heard me curse plenty of times, but very rarely at their mother. I think it even caught the bitch off guard a bit. The tension in the air couldn't have been cut with a diamond-tipped chainsaw for several seconds as I fumed at her. The smirk on her face brought violent thoughts to my mind, in spite of the fact that I have never raised my hand to her in anger. Oh, but I wanted to. The years of verbal abuse I had taken from her, all because she was inconvenienced by our reduced income, had finally come to a boil. The thought of that made my head spin to the point that I had to catch myself on the hallway corner to prop myself up. I swallowed those feelings back as quickly as I could. I knew it wasn't a healthy vibe for my kids to pick up on.



Finally, the silence was once again broken by my son. "Can..." he mewled shyly, "can we get front row seats?"



"I think I can. I'll have to ask."



That gave my son a newfound level excitement that I had thought lost since he'd stopped believing in Santa Claus and the magic of Christmas. He hopped up and down, and then beat a hasty retreat to his bedroom. "OH MAN! I CAN'T WAIT TO TELL MY FRIENDS THAT MY DAD WILL BE GETTING HIS BUTT KICKED BY ALEXA BLACK!"



I started to say something to him, but his door snapped shut before I could even get a word in edgewise. Now it was my turn to be speechless, as I returned my attention to my wife. I glared at her while motioning to his room, silently indicating the example of her never-ending support. She simply gave me another maddening smirk, returning to chopping carrots up for the roast without another word.



I threw my hands up in disgust, shaking my head at the situation. Anna tugged on my shirt to get my attention. I peered down at my princess, hopeful that she would, at least, be the one I could count on.



"Can I sign your cast too, diddy?"



In spite of the pang of disappointment I felt from the remark, she knew I could never be mad at, or refuse her, when she called me that. My heartstrings twanged as I knelt to her level. "Of course, sweetie. I'll even let you color on it."



She let out a delighted peal as she left to resume her playing in her room. I watched her disappear, and then returned my gaze to my preoccupied spouse. I couldn't help what I felt. Even in a house filled with people who should be by my side, cheering me on in this venture, I had never felt more alone.



Utterly and unquestionably alone.