Post by Johnny Reb on Nov 30, 2009 11:26:48 GMT -5
11/26/09
Reuniting with his family hadn’t quite been the happy affair Johnny had thought it would be. He’d had to plead, wheedle, and cajole before his father would agree to go, and his mother – who lived for the holidays and preferred to do all the cooking herself – had been reluctant to let him host Thanksgiving. Conversely, his brother had been delighted simply to hear from Johnny, and his ready acceptance of the invitation had made him something of a pariah, under the circumstances.
Dinner itself was strained, the conversation forced and overly polite, marked by long periods of silence broken only by the clatter of silverware on plates. Johnny hadn’t spoken with any of them in over a year. At first, it had simply been that he’d thought what he was doing at the time was right. Then there had been his brother’s car wreck. He’d tried, then, to do something to lend a hand: he sent a check to help cover expenses, but it had been returned, unopened. At that point, he’d taken it to mean that his family didn’t want to hear from him.
Later, of course, he realized he’d been mistaken about the whole thing. It wasn’t that they wanted nothing to do with him; they’d simply been waiting on him to make the right move, to come home and make his peace in person. And admittedly, it had been a cowardly thing to do. Now he was trying to make it right, but he privately wondered if perhaps it was too late.
On the big plasma TV, some football game or another goes unwatched. His father dozes on the couch in the expected seasonal turkey-coma, while his mother and sister-in-law had insisted on putting away the leftovers and washing the dishes. Reb’s protests that he was perfectly capable of doing it himself fall on deaf ears. That was the difference between company and family – family looked out for each other, even so simple a thing as cleaning up after a holiday meal.
Left alone with his brother, Jacob, Johnny pours them each a glass of Southern Comfort, and the two retire to the back porch to enjoy a cigar. Taking seats in a pair of plastic deck chairs, they sit in contemplative silence for some time. Reb ponders all the things he took for granted, never really appreciated about his brother:
Jacob had always been there for him, supportive where his parents were opposing; nurturing Johnny’s interest in professional wrestling, and encouraging him to look into it as a career. He’d served as a buffer whenever heated discussions would arise regarding Johnny’s lack of interest in the family business, had been his advocate when their father tried to forbid Johnny to pursue the career he really wanted. Reb had always assumed that Jacob stuck up for him simply because he could afford to do so; as the firstborn son, he would be the one taking the reins of the business when their father decided to retire.
The silence now, as the brothers sit on the back porch watching the sun’s westward journey across the sky, is not uncomfortable. It’s almost as if there was never any rift between them to begin with. Jacob takes a puff from his cigar, turns to regard his brother.
Jacob: Listen, Johnny, I wanted to apologize –
Reb holds up a hand to cut him off.
Johnny: You never did nothin’ wrong, Jake. I was a jackass; what can I say?
Shaking his head, Jacob smiles slightly.
Jacob: Well, y’have always been kinda stubborn…
Johnny: An’ you done spent way too long makin’ excuses for me. But there’s no justification for the way I acted. I just… got caught up in the whole title thing, to the point where I didn’t care what I did, so long as I got what I was after. Now look at me. I’m right back where I started.
The statement earns Johnny a puzzled frown.
Jacob: You got a shot at the tag titles next month. You’ve been World Champion. Johnny, there ain’t nothin’ you can’t do, an’ you know that. Hell, at least you’re doin’ what makes you happy.
Johnny: …wait. Ain’t you happy, workin’ for Dad?
Jacob shrugs noncommittally and takes a sip of his drink.
Jacob: I’m content. It’s not like there was ever much of a choice, though. It was either gonna be me… or you. I wasn’t gonna drop that responsibility on your shoulders, not when you got the kinda talent you have.
Johnny: What’re you sayin’? I thought you liked runnin’ the company.
Jacob: Now, don’t get me wrong, Johnny. I’m good at all this business stuff. I’m where I belong. An’ so are you. I always knew you were destined for better things. Why d’you think I kept pushin’ you to follow your dreams?
A reflective expression settles on Johnny’s face. He’d always been a little bitter that his brother had gotten recognition for his own achievements, when they were growing up, whereas Johnny was simply expected to do just as well. Now, he is forced to wonder if Jacob hadn’t seen his frustration, all that time, and decided to do something about it. To fail in one arena meant success in another, at least to his brother’s way of thinking. Suddenly, it all becomes so clear, so simple.
Johnny: You coulda done anythin’ else you wanted…
Jacob: Well, not anythin’. Johnny, we’re two different people. We got different strengths, different weaknesses. You ain’t got the patience for runnin’ a business. I ain’t got the wherewithal to step into the ring, week after week, an’ risk bodily harm on a regular basis. I may be a little jealous, from time to time, but I’m happy for you.
Reb takes a sip of his drink, looking vaguely embarrassed.
Johnny: I kinda always thought you were just bein’ patronizin’. But enough of this “Hallmark holiday special” moment…
Jacob shakes his head ruefully.
Jacob: Yeah, you’re right. It’s probably time for me to take the wife home anyway.
Johnny gives his brother a knowing smile and follows him back inside. There is a general exchanging of hugs, except for their father, who grudgingly shakes Johnny’s hand on the way out the door. Jacob pauses at the threshold.
Jacob: Good luck Monday night.
11/30/09
Monday evening. Backstage at the Rose Garden Arena, Johnny Reb paces impatiently. Outside, fans are crowded around the doors, equally eager for the show to start.
Tonight, Johnny knows, is the beginning of something new. Something different.
After being pinned by Jack Cash a week ago, he knows now is the time to step up his game. For all his bravado, Johnny is aware that Mikami is a legitimate threat, someone he can’t afford to take lightly. He stops pacing as he spots Hank Brown striding up the hall toward him. Hank waves, and Johnny gives him a forced smile.
Johnny: How ya doin’, Hank?
Hank: Great, Johnny! And you? Good holiday?
Reb shrugs.
Johnny: I reckon you could say that, yeah. Got a lotta things sorted out.
Brown nods absently, not really listening.
Hank: Look, I know you’re busy, but if I could get a few words regarding your match tonight… ?
Johnny: Sure, Hank. No problem. See, I’ve been in the ring with Mikami several times. Of course, most of those were in some kind of tag team configuration or another; sometimes on the same side, sometimes not. So I’ve had plenty of opportunity to see how this guy works, to know I gotta take him seriously.
Hank: Really? No flippant, smartass comments about your opponent tonight?
Reb shakes his head.
Johnny: Not this time, Hank. You an’ me both know I got more to worry about than just Mikami. Bein’ Torture’s …um…. I guess I’m not supposed to say “lackey”…. I got it. Bein’ Torture’s associate means he’s got backup comin’, one way or another. So I’m not goin’ into this situation blind, Hank. I know chances are that someone’s gonna come runnin’ out to intervene if Mikami-san gets himself into trouble. I mean, that’s the way these guys tend to operate. It’s the way I’d do it, if I were so inclined.
Hank: Well, that’s sort of a broad assumption, Johnny.
Johnny: Not really, Hank. What you gotta remember is, this ain’t the end of the road for me an’ Mikami. I’ll face him again at One, in a triple threat tag match… for the tag titles. The Team of Torture has made it very clear they intend to hold all the gold here, an’ they’re gonna wanna hurt me as much as they can this week.
Reb shrugs.
Johnny: It’s just common sense. From a slightly twisted point of view.
Hank: ….Right…. I understand you have something else planned this evening…
Johnny smiles enigmatically.
Johnny: I don’t reckon it’s gonna be a big surprise to anyone, but I don’t wanna give it away just yet. You’ll have to wait an’ see, like everyone else.
Hank: Oh. Well, thank you for your time, Johnny.
Reb waves dismissively and resumes his pacing as Hank Brown walks away.
