* * * * *
“Mr. Hamilton.” The voice was not Jade’s. It was the troll’s.
He opened his eyes. She was leering over him. Two hundred pounds of face with stringy red hair and a wart on her cheek. The troll.
“Good morning Mr. Hamilton,” said the troll.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Your girlfriend told me you were up. That’s good. So tell me, how do you feel?”
He almost started laughing again. Would the troll understand the joke?
“I feel funny,” he said.
“I bet you do,” said the troll. “You’re on some heavy-duty painkillers. We’re going to go ahead and turn those off this morning to see how you do.”
“Okay,” said Joey. None of this was making any sense. “I have to pee,” he said.
“Alrighty,” said the troll. “Do you think you can sit up?”
Joey tried to lift his legs. It seemed they would have to move first if he were to sit up. The brick was back, though, and now it was tied to his ankles.
“I’m having some trouble moving properly,” he said.
“Okay. Well here, let me help you.” The troll reached around Joey to fiddle with something and the bed started moving. The back of the bed began arching upward, taking Joey with it. The movement made him wheezy. He closed his eyes and waited for it to end.
“Okay, let’s try again,” said the troll.
Joey opened his eyes and took a big breath. He was sitting up now. And he was dizzy.
“Okay, and, let’s just get you going here.” The troll had lifted the sheets off Joey and moved his legs over the side of the bed.
“Sweetie, can you help me?” said the troll to someone else. It was Jade. She was here again. The troll put one of Joey’s arms over her own shoulder and Jade took the other.
“Okay, one, two, three,” Jade and the troll lifted Joey right out of the bed. His legs were wobbly. The room was now spinning out of control. He felt like he was going to throw up.
“Help us out here Joey,” said Jade.
Okay, thought Joey. Anything for you. He managed to get his feet planted and his legs stiffened. He was standing. He felt like he’d accomplished something huge by standing. Then it occurred to him that standing used to be something that was easy. What the hell was wrong with him?
“Okay honey, one foot in front of the other,” said the troll.
“Maybe we should just use a bedpan,” said Jade.
“No, he’s good to make it to the other end of the room. We need to get him up today. His head will clear faster if we can get him out of bed a few times this morning.”
Somewhere on the other side of the world, after an eternity of encouragement, steps, missteps, spinning, more steps, more encouragement, Joey was in the bathroom. Jade had dropped him off at the door, leaving only the troll to help him with the big work. Joey had envisioned a standing group of three at the toilet with him in the center, but the troll wanted him to sit, and come to think of it, that wasn’t a bad idea. Joey sat on the toilet and the world calmed for a minute.
“Okay honey, I’m gonna leave the door open a smidge, but I think you’re good to go on your own. I’ll help you up when you’re done.” And the troll left. Joey was alone on the toilet.
To his left was a mirror. To his right was a shower. He looked in the mirror.
He was wearing a white hospital gown. His skin was pale. His hair was matted.
The room was spinning. What was he doing here? Peeing. Yes, peeing. That happened without issue, thankfully.
He didn’t remember leaving the toilet, flushing, going back to the bed, or going to sleep. But he woke up in the bed several hours later. His nausea had subsided. His head was more clear. He was aware of his surroundings some, and had a better grasp of what was going on. And he hurt. His head, neck, shoulder, back, stomach, and sides all hurt like hell.
“Good morning again.” It was Jade.
He turned his head. It hurt, but it worked.
“Good morning again,” said Joey.
“You look better,” she said.
“I feel worse.”
“How do you feel? And don’t say you feel funny.”
“I hurt. My head, and my shoulders,” he lifted his arms to point out where he hurt, but lifting them revealed new sources of hurt in his chest and his hands.
“What happened?” he said. “Did Jumbo totally kick my ass or something?”
“No. Well, maybe. I guess you are the one who’s in the hospital.”
Joey looked at her for more clarification. She got out of her chair and approached his bed. She stroked his hair, then leaned in and kissed his forehead.
“My memory of yesterday is all screwed up,” he said.
“Maybe it will come back. If not, I’ll make up something pleasant for you.”
Jade’s presence soothed Joey to the point of lessening the pain. She was calm. She was more calm than he’d ever seen her.
“So what happened? Where am I?” he said.
“You’re at Presbyterian Hospital in Las Vegas. It’s Tuesday morning. Actually, now it’s Tuesday afternoon. Yesterday you bravely defended my honor backstage at the Grand Garden. Jumbo tackled you, you hit your head on the concrete and suffered a bad concussion. You blacked out and an ambulance took you here. The doctor thinks you’re going to be okay, but may suffer from concussion syndrome for awhile.”
“Why do I hurt so much?”
“I don’t know, Honey. You’re getting a full-body MRI in a few hours. We’ll learn everything that’s wrong with you then. If that checks out okay, you’ll be discharged tonight.”
Joey relaxed his shoulders and closed his eyes for a second. The aching in his neck was really uncomfortable.
“Painkillers? Do I get any painkillers?”
“You’ve had a slew already. Your nurse is weaning you off them today to see how you do. This morning you were drugged up and loopy. Do you remember any of that?”
“You mean earlier? Yeah. I remember, sort of. You all helped me to the bathroom.”
“Mm-hm.”
Jade went back to her chair and sat down.
“So I’m not going to wrestle tonight?” said Joey, as if he needed to ask.
Jade shook her head. “Neither will Jumbo; neither will I.”
“Why aren’t you going to wrestle?”
“I told Duke I was going to the hospital with you, and I wouldn’t be performing.”
“What did he say?”
“We can talk about that later.”
Joey closed his eyes. He wanted to jump out of the bed and run out of here. He wanted to run away from the murky pain, the headache, last night. What had he done? He’d screwed up the whole TV show for tonight. This wasn’t going to make him any more popular backstage.
“I really hope you’re not going to be in trouble,” said Joey.
“Joey, we’re both in trouble.”
She said it like it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe it wasn’t. Duke already knew about what Jumbo tried to do to Jade last year. Maybe as soon as he knew that Jumbo pissed in her bag too – Joey had done the right thing, even if it had turned out sour.
“What’s going to happen to Jumbo?” he asked.
“I have no idea, and I really don’t care.”
“Well, does Duke know that Jumbo pissed in your bag?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll call him. I’ll let him know. He’ll want to talk to me anyway.” Joey reached for the phone, but a sharp sting in his neck shut down that idea.
“Honey, please don’t try to call Duke. I don’t think he wants to talk to either of us today. Sweetie, I need to tell you something.”
Her voice was sullen, like a warning to Joey to prepare for bad news. He worked through the pain of moving his neck to get a good look at her face so she’d know he was listening.
“What is it
?” he said. For some reason he was sure she was going to say she was pregnant.
“Joey, we’re going to be suspended.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean we’re not going to be allowed to wrestle for awhile.”
That was strange news. Fights had broken out backstage before. Sometimes they resulted in fines or de-pushes. Never suspensions. Suspensions were reserved for drug offenders, and even then only if the company chose to notice. It just wasn’t good business to keep someone off the card when he might put some asses in the seats.
“Why are you being suspended?” Joey asked.
“Technically, I don’t know for sure that either of us is going to be suspended. It’s not official yet, but I talked to Duke, and, well, I know how he is, I know how this locker room works, and I know this business.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. What did Duke say?”
“He said things are going to have to change around here, and to tell you that he’s very disappointed in you. He said he’s very disappointed in both of us, and that I should never have gotten involved with you.”
“What the fuck does that mean? It’s his business now what we do outside of the company?”
“Joey, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, and I can only tell you I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made things so complicated. I’m sorry I got you involved. I’m sorry I’ve ended your...”
“What are you apologizing for? This doesn’t make any sense. You’ve done nothing wrong. Hell, I’ve done nothing wrong. If anyone should be suspended, it should be Jumbo. More than suspended, he should be fired. And we need to talk to Duke and talk to the others backstage and talk to the journalists if we have to until something is done because this isn’t fair.” In his anger, Joey grew light-headed. He had to lean back into his pillow and close his eyes. He wondered if this was what it was going to be like to be old.
“It doesn’t have to be fair, Joey. Tonight three of the company’s biggest stars are going to miss their scheduled appearances on TV in our second largest market--”
“Well it doesn’t make any sense for you to be suspended. You didn’t do anything.”
“Yes I did, Joey. I refused to perform tonight. I came over here instead. And beyond that, I instigated the whole thing.”
“What are you talking about? Somebody pissed in your bag a year after he tried to rape you. I picked a fight with him, against your will, landed one punch, and you instigated the whole thing?”
“Jumbo’s still denying that he’s the one who peed in my bag. He never admitted that he tried to rape me. I’m just a little girl causing trouble.”
“But you know that’s a bunch of bull shit! We know it was him. I could see on his face yesterday when he stood up that he was guilty. He was ready for me to start shit the minute he saw me. The fact that he denies it just makes him a coward. Man, that guy is such a bastard.”
“Joey, we don’t need to be talking about all this. It won’t help anything. I need you to accept that we’re not going to win this fight.”
“I can’t accept that. I’m not going to accept that.”
“Well you need to. For me. For me, you need to say that life’s not fair and shit happens and you’ll give up this stupid fight I got you in. You need to accept it before your whole career is washed down the tubes because of me, if it isn’t already.”
Jade turned away to hide her tears.
“Jade, honey, it doesn’t have to be like--”
“Yes it does!” She stamped her foot as she turned back around. “It does have to be like that! It’s the way this fucked up business works, and nobody knows it better than me. People treat you like dirt and you take it because they’re in the loop and you’re out. It’s just the way it is, Joey, and if you can learn it now you might still make it, and please learn it now so at least you’ll get something out of this shitty week you’ve spent with me.”
Joey lay quietly, with lots to say, but little courage to say it. “I don’t think it was a shitty week,” was what came out.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “We don’t have to talk about all of this now. You’re in a hospital bed for Christ’s sake.”
“Okay,” said Joey.
An hour later the troll came back and took Joey out of the room on a wheelchair. He got the dreaded full-body MRI. Forty minutes of stillness in a tiny chamber.
Three hours later, back in the hospital room, Joey’s doctor, a balding, overweight man who didn’t look the part of “health care provider” went over the MRI with Joey and Jade. Some evidence of concussion and some bruising near the rib cage, but otherwise, things looked good. The prognosis: no wrestling for at least a week, watch for signs of concussion syndrome, visit a doctor again in seven days for reevaluation. Joey was discharged at five that evening, able to walk out on his own. The shrieking pain of the morning had turned to general aching in the evening, and by the time he walked out, he felt less like he’d been tossed to the concrete, and more like he’d just been through a ringer of a match.