Post by veronicaaaahhhh on Sept 11, 2007 11:35:08 GMT -5
For B.A.
RIP 1964-2007
Wayne McGurk Survival Of The Fittest RP: It’s Been Awhile
Even though Frank had the ac cranked on full, the heat from the outside still shone through. From where they were, they were probably a couple miles outside of Tempe; God, he’s away from the kid for only a month, just a month, and they’ve got absolutely nothing to say to each other. Frank kept his gaze on the road, as he nonchalantly glanced at his watch for the time; 2:30 in the pm- and another couple hours of this sun.
****.
Frank switched the radio on; turning left on the dial, cutting through static and sound hoping to land on something half-way decent.
Pull it back; I like that song.
Outside of a “hi” and a “how are ya’” that was the first thing he said to Frank. Frank glanced up on the rearview mirror, and the boy sat there bored, staring out the window; silently murmuring. His mother moved them out of Brooklyn and into Tempe without even telling Frank ahead. This was Frank McGurk and Angela Sandoval then; happy, horny, and in love. This was Frank McGurk and Angela Sandoval now; wedlock and bitter. Somewhere, five years or so ago, they just both stopped caring. All they had left was the boy; a nine pound son of a gun, then; a bored nine year old, now.
Frank turned the dial on the right, flicking through stations.
That’s it!
It was poppy; nice. The kind of song he’d like.
This sounds nice, what’s it called?
“Don’t Pull Your Love”
Who sang it?
I don’t know; I just like it, that’s all.
Angela Sandoval, the wandering Jew; was what he’d playfully call her. She was never content staying at one place; she was always on the move. This was the second time she moved back to Arizona ; in a month. Unless he called, he never really knew where she’d be next. In all clear honesty, it worked for Frank. Outside of the sweatbox he had waiting, he practically lived in his car. Driving from town to town; wrestling- making money.
He could hear him silently singing along. The kid wasn’t shy, and that’s a good thing; it’s going to take him a long way in the future.
Wayne, you feeling alright?
Frank curled his arm around the headrest and turned to him; singing quietly, looking out the window as he cranked it down; bored.
I’m ok… A little hot.
Close the window and come bring yourself up here, so you can really feel the air conditioning.
Wayne came forward.
Hold on,
Frank stopped him.
Roll the window back up first.
*
How would you feel if you opened your heart to someone who isn’t completely yours or mine, but of our enemy?
Wayne remembered not saying a thing; he just looked at her, staring back at him, with everything the night sky had to offer just reflecting over her face- beautiful and blue. He remembered laying there with her, Wayne and Vanessa both, lying on their sides; close, without touching. He had kept his lips closed; pushing her question to the right side of his mind, for awhile, just to take her all in.
It doesn’t matter where I am, just as long as you stand by me, I’m already home.
He remembered wanting to say to her; had she first said something else, the moment’dve been perfect.
Wayne remembered letting the question skin in, as he ran his fingers through her cheek. She was staring back at him with that look, that gaze rather, of wait. He had reckoned, then, that the question was bound to come up sooner or later; Vanessa and the little girl have been getting close. At home, there were already two people who both had their rights over Vanessa; Wayne and Scarlett, their daughter. Wayne reckoned he was being selfish with her.
Wayne wondered if Vanessa and Scarlett had ever placed their claim on him, as he did with them. He adores them, and he doesn’t know why.
But the girl, she looked at Vanessa as mother, already; it was unmistakable.
Well…
Can I be honest?
Couldn’t tell her he just didn’t know how to answer.
You certainly may.
I just don’t know what to think; that’s all.
You can think what you want.
Wayne remembered taking awhile before he answered; wanted to gather everything he already thought about and lay it all down at once.
I already have. I think about that girl; she’s a sweet kid, and she deserves better. But then I think about her father, and what he did to you. Then again, I can’t help but wonder how you can open yourself to something that as much of him as Scarlett and you are to me. Nothing against Samantha, but I just can’t help but wonder. And then I think about Scarlett. You’re more than the world and I to her; I just think about her, and how would feel about having to share you…
He turned his head after saying that.
I don’t know…
Wayne remembered how Vanessa just stared at him. For a brief moment, she turned her eyes away to the corner of her face; taking it all in, then looking at him again. He lay there, waiting.
Love doesn’t divide; at least not my love, anyway.
*
Wayne kept himself where he was; he was comfortable here. Wayne had spread his arms out before leaning back. Wayne closed his eyes as he let the cigarillo roll between his fingers. The man had been cutting down on the Camel’s and anything that would find its way fermenting in his lungs. They weren’t healthy; neither were the cigarillos, which were essentially miniature cigars, which made them technically worse, but healthier to smoke.
The difference between a cigarette and a cigar, on in this case, a cigarillo, was that the cigar was all about taste. Cigarette manufacturers on the other hand, never really gave a
about the taste. It was all about smoking and getting the most from it. It didn’t matter how it tasted, because every smoker, no matter what they smoked, all smelled like a chimney in the end.
Wayne brought the cigarillo to his lips and took a puff. Wayne opened his eyes and looked at his reflection bouncing off the water. He lay on the tub and let seventeen years worth of a cigarette addiction wash away.
He was tired of smelling tobacco in his sweat.
Looking at it now, Wayne couldn’t understand how Vanessa could him; reckoned maybe she was used to the way he smelled. Wayne remembered that time a year ago, when they did a show in Korea . Getting off the plane, he wanted a smoke. Went sixteen-seventeen hours without one, by the time he boarded off, all he wanted was a smoke. Now, there was a smoker’s lounge in the airport, thankfully. Wayne remembered looking at it from the outside. There must’ve been around fifty-to-sixty smokers in a room no bigger than this bathroom. All cramped up together, like sardines, with ashes and cigarette butts scattered across the ground; drawing hard on their Marlboro’s and breathing in the smoke of the person standing next to them. The whole damn room was covered in smoke.
ing sick.
Looking at it from the outside, then, was sick enough, even for him.
Wayne shoved his way inside and had about three sticks.
Wayne pulled himself out of the water and switched the shower on.
He was sick of floating on his own filth.
*
Frank came back to the table with two beers. Just coming from the show, this was the first place they found. It was just as good as any other place along the high way; they had a place to sit, cheap beer, music, and decent food at affordable prices. Frank remembered telling Wayne before coming in, that half the meals he would ever eat starting from today, was going to taste just like whatever they had inside.
Frank placed the beers down and slid into the booth; Wayne sat across him, arms outstretched and his body leaning back against the seat; a slight grimace of pain across his face.
Frank clutched his beer and smiled at Wayne . Frank took a moment to gather himself; brick walls, loud bar-music, Fleetwood Mac to be exact, a couple neon lights, regulars with a twang in their accent, and cigarette smoke; just like anywhere.
How’re you feeling?
He waited, but Wayne didn’t say a thing.
I was excepting that.
Frank handed the other beer to Wayne .
Come on son, drink up!
Wayne slowly lurched forward; twitching his arms out forward as he leaned his elbows on the table.
So tell me Wayne, how does it feel like to be a wrestler?
I don’t really know what to think, actually.
Frank rested his chin against his palm.
Really?
For the most part, I guess its ok.
Ok; that’s it?
Wayne reached for the beer and took a sip.
Well Frank, what do you expect me to say? I just don’t know what to tell you. On one hand, I had fun. But with every muscle in my body aching… It hurts so much just to move. I don’t know what to think.
Look, these next few months are going to be the judge as to whether or not, you’re going to be cut out for this. Whatever you feel now is just the tip of the iceberg; somewhere down the line, you are going to hurt, so much more than you do now. And let me tell you something, that hurt is going to follow you to your dying day.
For these next few months, and maybe even for the rest of this year, I don’t want you to even think about being the best or making money. I just want you to wrestle.
Holding that beer perched on his hand, Wayne just looked at Frank. Frank looked back at Wayne ; what was going through the kids head? Frank reached his hands to his money-belt and took out a pack of Marlboro’s; he tapped the bottom of the box and stuck a stick between his lips and lit it.
Can I have one?
You’re old enough not to have to ask me.
Frank pushed the box towards Wayne .
Look,
Frank pulled the cigarette away from his lips.
Am I getting though to you, at all?
Wayne lit the cigarette as he nodded back at Frank.
If I’m being difficult here, it’s because I love you. And before I can make you continue in this business, I’m going to have to see if your heart is really in. I mean, look at me,
Frank reached for his beer and took a sip.
Over twenty years as a wrestler, and I have nothing to show for it?
I just don’t want the same to happen to you.
RIP 1964-2007
Wayne McGurk Survival Of The Fittest RP: It’s Been Awhile
Even though Frank had the ac cranked on full, the heat from the outside still shone through. From where they were, they were probably a couple miles outside of Tempe; God, he’s away from the kid for only a month, just a month, and they’ve got absolutely nothing to say to each other. Frank kept his gaze on the road, as he nonchalantly glanced at his watch for the time; 2:30 in the pm- and another couple hours of this sun.
****.
Frank switched the radio on; turning left on the dial, cutting through static and sound hoping to land on something half-way decent.
Pull it back; I like that song.
Outside of a “hi” and a “how are ya’” that was the first thing he said to Frank. Frank glanced up on the rearview mirror, and the boy sat there bored, staring out the window; silently murmuring. His mother moved them out of Brooklyn and into Tempe without even telling Frank ahead. This was Frank McGurk and Angela Sandoval then; happy, horny, and in love. This was Frank McGurk and Angela Sandoval now; wedlock and bitter. Somewhere, five years or so ago, they just both stopped caring. All they had left was the boy; a nine pound son of a gun, then; a bored nine year old, now.
Frank turned the dial on the right, flicking through stations.
That’s it!
It was poppy; nice. The kind of song he’d like.
This sounds nice, what’s it called?
“Don’t Pull Your Love”
Who sang it?
I don’t know; I just like it, that’s all.
Angela Sandoval, the wandering Jew; was what he’d playfully call her. She was never content staying at one place; she was always on the move. This was the second time she moved back to Arizona ; in a month. Unless he called, he never really knew where she’d be next. In all clear honesty, it worked for Frank. Outside of the sweatbox he had waiting, he practically lived in his car. Driving from town to town; wrestling- making money.
He could hear him silently singing along. The kid wasn’t shy, and that’s a good thing; it’s going to take him a long way in the future.
Wayne, you feeling alright?
Frank curled his arm around the headrest and turned to him; singing quietly, looking out the window as he cranked it down; bored.
I’m ok… A little hot.
Close the window and come bring yourself up here, so you can really feel the air conditioning.
Wayne came forward.
Hold on,
Frank stopped him.
Roll the window back up first.
*
How would you feel if you opened your heart to someone who isn’t completely yours or mine, but of our enemy?
Wayne remembered not saying a thing; he just looked at her, staring back at him, with everything the night sky had to offer just reflecting over her face- beautiful and blue. He remembered laying there with her, Wayne and Vanessa both, lying on their sides; close, without touching. He had kept his lips closed; pushing her question to the right side of his mind, for awhile, just to take her all in.
It doesn’t matter where I am, just as long as you stand by me, I’m already home.
He remembered wanting to say to her; had she first said something else, the moment’dve been perfect.
Wayne remembered letting the question skin in, as he ran his fingers through her cheek. She was staring back at him with that look, that gaze rather, of wait. He had reckoned, then, that the question was bound to come up sooner or later; Vanessa and the little girl have been getting close. At home, there were already two people who both had their rights over Vanessa; Wayne and Scarlett, their daughter. Wayne reckoned he was being selfish with her.
Wayne wondered if Vanessa and Scarlett had ever placed their claim on him, as he did with them. He adores them, and he doesn’t know why.
But the girl, she looked at Vanessa as mother, already; it was unmistakable.
Well…
Can I be honest?
Couldn’t tell her he just didn’t know how to answer.
You certainly may.
I just don’t know what to think; that’s all.
You can think what you want.
Wayne remembered taking awhile before he answered; wanted to gather everything he already thought about and lay it all down at once.
I already have. I think about that girl; she’s a sweet kid, and she deserves better. But then I think about her father, and what he did to you. Then again, I can’t help but wonder how you can open yourself to something that as much of him as Scarlett and you are to me. Nothing against Samantha, but I just can’t help but wonder. And then I think about Scarlett. You’re more than the world and I to her; I just think about her, and how would feel about having to share you…
He turned his head after saying that.
I don’t know…
Wayne remembered how Vanessa just stared at him. For a brief moment, she turned her eyes away to the corner of her face; taking it all in, then looking at him again. He lay there, waiting.
Love doesn’t divide; at least not my love, anyway.
*
Wayne kept himself where he was; he was comfortable here. Wayne had spread his arms out before leaning back. Wayne closed his eyes as he let the cigarillo roll between his fingers. The man had been cutting down on the Camel’s and anything that would find its way fermenting in his lungs. They weren’t healthy; neither were the cigarillos, which were essentially miniature cigars, which made them technically worse, but healthier to smoke.
The difference between a cigarette and a cigar, on in this case, a cigarillo, was that the cigar was all about taste. Cigarette manufacturers on the other hand, never really gave a
about the taste. It was all about smoking and getting the most from it. It didn’t matter how it tasted, because every smoker, no matter what they smoked, all smelled like a chimney in the end.Wayne brought the cigarillo to his lips and took a puff. Wayne opened his eyes and looked at his reflection bouncing off the water. He lay on the tub and let seventeen years worth of a cigarette addiction wash away.
He was tired of smelling tobacco in his sweat.
Looking at it now, Wayne couldn’t understand how Vanessa could
him; reckoned maybe she was used to the way he smelled. Wayne remembered that time a year ago, when they did a show in Korea . Getting off the plane, he wanted a smoke. Went sixteen-seventeen hours without one, by the time he boarded off, all he wanted was a smoke. Now, there was a smoker’s lounge in the airport, thankfully. Wayne remembered looking at it from the outside. There must’ve been around fifty-to-sixty smokers in a room no bigger than this bathroom. All cramped up together, like sardines, with ashes and cigarette butts scattered across the ground; drawing hard on their Marlboro’s and breathing in the smoke of the person standing next to them. The whole damn room was covered in smoke.ing sick.Looking at it from the outside, then, was sick enough, even for him.
Wayne shoved his way inside and had about three sticks.
Wayne pulled himself out of the water and switched the shower on.
He was sick of floating on his own filth.
*
Frank came back to the table with two beers. Just coming from the show, this was the first place they found. It was just as good as any other place along the high way; they had a place to sit, cheap beer, music, and decent food at affordable prices. Frank remembered telling Wayne before coming in, that half the meals he would ever eat starting from today, was going to taste just like whatever they had inside.
Frank placed the beers down and slid into the booth; Wayne sat across him, arms outstretched and his body leaning back against the seat; a slight grimace of pain across his face.
Frank clutched his beer and smiled at Wayne . Frank took a moment to gather himself; brick walls, loud bar-music, Fleetwood Mac to be exact, a couple neon lights, regulars with a twang in their accent, and cigarette smoke; just like anywhere.
How’re you feeling?
He waited, but Wayne didn’t say a thing.
I was excepting that.
Frank handed the other beer to Wayne .
Come on son, drink up!
Wayne slowly lurched forward; twitching his arms out forward as he leaned his elbows on the table.
So tell me Wayne, how does it feel like to be a wrestler?
I don’t really know what to think, actually.
Frank rested his chin against his palm.
Really?
For the most part, I guess its ok.
Ok; that’s it?
Wayne reached for the beer and took a sip.
Well Frank, what do you expect me to say? I just don’t know what to tell you. On one hand, I had fun. But with every muscle in my body aching… It hurts so much just to move. I don’t know what to think.
Look, these next few months are going to be the judge as to whether or not, you’re going to be cut out for this. Whatever you feel now is just the tip of the iceberg; somewhere down the line, you are going to hurt, so much more than you do now. And let me tell you something, that hurt is going to follow you to your dying day.
For these next few months, and maybe even for the rest of this year, I don’t want you to even think about being the best or making money. I just want you to wrestle.
Holding that beer perched on his hand, Wayne just looked at Frank. Frank looked back at Wayne ; what was going through the kids head? Frank reached his hands to his money-belt and took out a pack of Marlboro’s; he tapped the bottom of the box and stuck a stick between his lips and lit it.
Can I have one?
You’re old enough not to have to ask me.
Frank pushed the box towards Wayne .
Look,
Frank pulled the cigarette away from his lips.
Am I getting though to you, at all?
Wayne lit the cigarette as he nodded back at Frank.
If I’m being difficult here, it’s because I love you. And before I can make you continue in this business, I’m going to have to see if your heart is really in. I mean, look at me,
Frank reached for his beer and took a sip.
Over twenty years as a wrestler, and I have nothing to show for it?
I just don’t want the same to happen to you.
