Post by Benny on Jun 7, 2012 14:55:20 GMT -5
Tuesday, Jun 5, 2012
Social and personal relationships are smooth and harmonious, especially if you show the affection and tenderness you are feeling now.
There's a feeling hanging over my head after 'Ascension'; it might have something to do with the fact I failed to defeat Sydney Laroux ... or the injuries I sustained at her hands. The cuts to my forehead, eyebrow, cheek, lips, the busted nose I suffered after that vicious and stiff knee at the end of the match. The bruising and swelling around my nose has to be the worst of the injuries; cuts I can handle, a bit of glue or some stitches and they're good to go for the next five days or so, no matter how many of them I got.
Or it may be the e-mail my father sent me on Saturday afternoon, which I finally got round to opening this morning. Because today is my birthday and there's only one person on this planet I want to see. Only one person I want to spend any time with. They're the reason why I've driven this rental Versa for six hours, across the American Midwest, down the I-90 to the Forest City. It's why, at three in the afternoon on this cloudy, windy, miserable Tuesday I'm parked a hundred yards down the road from their house. Sat in the Versa listening to the album 'G. Love's Lemonade' on repeat while I try to muster up the courage to go to that front door and knock and deal with the consequences. Damn it, G.Love and Tristan Prettyman can continue singing in a few minutes, I've got something to do!
I grab the parcel off the passenger seat before exiting the car; I dressed up for the occasion, two-tone striped grey dress shirt and black suit pants with fancy leather shoes. It almost distracts from the mess that is my face. Walking at a snail's pace is about the best I can do right now as I fight the butterflies in my stomach; they're doing their best to compete with the rapid heart beat in a contest as to which one will make me back out of this first. Beads of sweat begin to tumble down my face as I get within two houses of my desired destination. Finally, I stand outside of the three bedroom house, staring at it's light blue fascia, it's porch with a swing where they can sit on Summer evenings and watch the sunset. It looks exactly like I imagined it would.
"She's not in."
The voice belongs to a teenage girl who's leaning against the wooden fence that separates her yard from the house I'm stood in front of. She's perfectly ordinary looking, youthful and cute with a black ponytail hanging halfway down her back.
Amelia
I assume you're looking for Joelle; she went out of town for a few days, sorry.
Ben Hanson
Damn...
One obstacle I won't have to deal with just yet. What a relief. I continue to stand there staring at the house. JoJo had always talked about getting a house like this, somewhere we could settle down and raise a family. Give our kids a better childhood than either of us really had - not that we had it bad, but we're both kids of divorce. In my peripheral vision I can see Amelia, as the name badge on her work uniform indicates, scoping me out. Giving me that squinty look people get when they're trying to figure out where they know someone from.
Amelia
Oh my GOD! You're him--you're Ben Hanson!
She jumps with joy in a way not many teenage girls do when they see a professional wrestler.
Ben Hanson
That's me.
I say with a smile before I wince; those cuts around my lips causing me some discomfort as they stretch. Amelia grabs her phone out of her pants pocket and asks me if she can take a photo, something I can't deny to a fan. I smile as much as I can for it and she does the same. She then proceeds to tell me her boyfriend is a wrestling fan and they had some friends over to watch 'Ascension' over the weekend. How much they enjoyed the show and how sorry she was that I lost my match and for the beating I took at the hands of Sydney Laroux.
Amelia
Could you do one more thing for me, please? My boyfriend would, like, totally freak out...
Before I can answer Amelia runs back into her house, leaving me standing on the street with the parcel in my hands. A passer-by on the opposite side of the street gives me a strange stare, one which I do not return. A minute passes before Amelia re-emerges from her home with a CD firmly grasped in her hands. I recognise it immediately. It's a copy of 'Pierre LaFontaine: Live At Santa Fe', the live album I played on when I was taking my hiatus from wrestling last year, just before I signed with Alpha Entertainment. She hands me a Sharpie pen and asks me to make it out to 'Jeff and Amelia'; I add that they're my biggest fans and sign it with a smiley face. Again, Amelia squeals in delight as she proceeds to take a photo of the signed inner sleeve and seems to send it as a picture message, presumably to her boyfriend.
Ben Hanson
I don't mean to be rude, but did JoJo say where she was going or when she'd be back?
Amelia
She's gone to her parents for a few days. Something about needing to get away.
Damn. I don't know where her mother and stepfather live.
Ben Hanson
Would I be able to leave this with you--
I say referencing the parcel in my hand.
Ben Hanson
--it's just a birthday present for Thomas.
It's the teddy bear my father gave to me when I was born. One that his father had given to him; he told me to pass it on to my child when I had one. So he can have something to hold onto during the nights when storms hit the area. A friend to whisper his secrets to when he's growing up. Someone to spill his guts to about his first crush and the subsequent tears that will follow when he first feels heartbreak. That bear lasted me until I was thirteen years old before he went in a box in the back of my wardrobe. Amelia takes the parcel from me, eyeing it with suspicion.
Amelia
Ok ... How do you know about Tommy?
Thomas!
Ben Hanson
He's my son.
JoJo must not have mentioned me by name; the look of horror on Amelia's face is unmistakable. It's quickly replaced by anger as the glare of this teenage girl makes me feel about an inch tall.
Ben Hanson
Sorry ... But please give that to him.
I say as I walk away from Amelia, her eyes burning a hole in the back of my head as I walk away in shame, disgust and self-loathing. How I thought I could walk up to JoJo after two and a half years and face her when someone like Amelia - a stranger until five minutes ago - can make me feel like that. What would I have done if I had seen JoJo? I can't even think about it as I get back to my rental car; Amelia is still glaring at me from down the street as I get back in and start the engine. Six hours drive for this. Now I have to drive another six hours, traffic permitting, to get back to Chicago so I can crawl into my hotel room bed and console myself with a bottle of something from the minibar ... Amelia flips me off as I drive past her.
I reached Chicago a little after half nine in the evening as a tired, worn-down, emotionally exhausted shell of a man. Sat in a car-park with my iPad, browsing the photos my father had e-mailed to me. The first photos he'd been allowed to take during a visit to see his grandson; JoJo doesn't hold a grudge against him like she does me. But with each swipe and each passing photo I can see that Thomas has my hazelnut coloured eyes and my chestnut brown hair (before the hair dye anyway). I wasn't there for his birth having split up with JoJo when she was five months pregnant. I haven't even been allowed back to the house since then so these photos are the first time I've seen him. My chubby little son. A tear rolls down my cheek as I tuck the iPad inside of my duffel bag and exit the vehicle.
It's a short walk across the car park but it seems to have taken forever. My feet feel heavy, like lumps of steel are holding me down. I can hear them thud and echo even over the padding of the soft carpet as I make my way down the corridors and into the elevator. The only other person in there gives me the same glance the passer-by had given me in Cleveland. I assume because of the state of my face. I get out before her and walk, slowly and hesitantly down the corridor.
"Mommy, look at that man" I hear a young child say as she passes by with her parents. I try to smile, st least the man, but they hurry her away from me before I can scare her. Finally I reach the door I want. I knock twice and wait. A moment passes as I hear the unlocking of a chain and the door opens.
Ben Hanson
Hi, Sheree...
Sheree Washington
Ben? What are you doing here?
Ben Hanson
I can't be alone right now, can I crash here tonight?
Bless her heart. Sheree wraps her arms around my neck and hugs me, cradling my head on her shoulder. Ever since we got to talking one night at the bar last month we've begun a sort of friendship.
Sheree Washington
Of course you can. Come in.
She says as she escorts me to the couch, sitting me down as she goes to fetch a pillow and a blanket. I wandered the streets for an hour and a half before I settled on coming here; I didn't want to be an imposition with what Sheree is going through, but I didn't have anywhere else to turn. She returns with the pillow and blanket and offers me the couch on which I'm sitting as a bed for the night. Bless her.
