CHAPTER 41
The trek up the ramp was surreal. Nauseous, aching, dizzy, exhausted, Joey was barely conscious for the post match ceremonials. With his entrance theme playing, and the GWA World Title belt hanging over his left shoulder, he lumbered out of the arena, into a mist of smoke and fuzzy vision, while Goliath was still strewn in the ring. All the while, twenty thousand Canadians exalted the match they had just seen.
Upon entering the backstage area, an open foyer of concrete right before the locker rooms, a nameless face tried to give Joey a bottle of water. A violent swipe knocked it out of his hand, sending the precious fluid flying across the room. Joey felt like a desert straggler having seen a mirage.
His eyes looked at the swiping hand, then up the tattooed arm and shoulder that connected the hand to the scowling face of Deep Six. “What the fuck did you do out there punk?” Deep Six said.
Joey ignored him, and instead watched with sadness as the water bottle fly away from him and landed sideways on the floor, where it gurgled out onto the concrete. He had no energy to fight anymore. He wondered if there was someplace he could sit down.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Hey man, cool it, that ain’t how we work here,” someone said to Deep Six.
“Fuck you!”
At once the entire room was chaos. Thirty professional athletes were about to riot. Joey didn’t care. He pondered taking a seat on the floor where he stood. Maybe no one would notice.
An arm went around Joey’s waist, and a shoulder lodged itself under his – blessed heaven he could rest his weight on this shoulder. Joey’s vision was a cloud, but he knew by smell that this angel supporting him was Jade.
“Come on, we have to get out of here. Even if we need to take you back into the arena. Let’s go,” she said.
Jade started to turn Joey away from the riot.
“Stop it! Stop it! Shut up! Listen to me! Listen up you shits!” yelled a voice from the back of the foyer. The voice overruled the turmoil and became the room’s focus. It belonged to Max Zeffer.
“No one else is fighting here tonight!” Max surveyed the room for dissenters. There were none. Money and fame, the prizes Max dealt, meant more to all of these men than any disputes.
“Joey, come with me,” Max said.
“Honey, just follow me,” said Jade. “We don’t have to go anywhere but home.”
The room was watching them. Jade led Joey forward, through the crowd of wrestlers, past Max Zeffer, towards the exit.
“If you leave you’re a fucking coward!” yelled a raspy voice from the back of the room.
“Ignore it Joey,” said Jade. “You’ve done what you came to do tonight. It’s over.”
Joey’s mind was slow to sort all these suggestions, but he realized that the voice that had called him a coward belonged to Goliath, who must have just arrived backstage. Wrestling convention required the loser to exit second, when the television cameras are off, but the audience is still present. A long walk of shame up the ramp. Normally, it was just part of the act. For Goliath, the shame tonight was all too real.
“Honey, let’s go back for a minute. We have to end this right,” said Joey.
They stopped walking.
“Joey, you ended it right. It’s over. You’ve done what you wanted to do. You need to go to a hospital.”
He did need to go to a hospital. He really needed a drink of water.
Joey led Jade back around, facing the room, facing Goliath, facing Max.
“Can I please have a bottle of water?” Joey said to Max.
Max stared at him for a minute, then walked across the foyer and grabbed a bottle of water from a table. He walked back, twisting the cap off the bottle as he moved, then handed the water to Joey. The room watched as Joey took a long drag from the bottle, then another, gasping in between.
“Okay Max, let’s go,” said Joey. “Jade comes with me.”
“Fine,” said Max. “Goliath, this way.”
Max led them out of the foyer, down a hall, and into a locker room, where Gene Harold, Larry Jenkins, Vicky Archuleta, Duke, and Lucifer were sitting in a spacious circle.
“Have a seat,” Max said to the three new guests.
Joey grabbed an open space of bench and felt like he had gone to heaven. How wonderful it was to sit down. How fleeting the pleasure. As soon as he settled in, he wanted to lie down. Yes, to stretch across the floor and go to sleep. It took greater strength of will to remain upright than it had to resist submitting to Goliath’s facelock. Joey leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. That would do for now.
“So let’s have it,” said Max. “How long have you two been planning this?”
“Jade had nothing to do with it. This was my plan,” said Joey.
“What the hell are you – why would I give a flying fuck about what your girlfriend had to do with this?” said Max.
Joey wondered if his head was playing tricks on him, if this conversation actually made perfect sense, and he just didn’t know it. He looked to Jade for help.
“Lucifer and Joey have never spoken before tonight,” Jade said to Max.
Lucifer? What did he have to do with anything? Why was he even here? Joey sat up and rubbed his eyes.
“Is this true?” Max said to Lucifer, now right up in his face.
“Yes,” said Lucifer, neither flinching nor defensive to Max’s intrusion of his personal space. The man seemed as if he had no fear.
“So why the fuck did you get involved?” said Max.
“It was the right thing to do,” said Lucifer.
Max stepped away in exasperation, looking to the ceiling and shaking his head. He was about to go ballistic. As Joey watched the anger boil up inside the billionaire, the conversation came together with an unclear memory from the fight, and it all made sense. Scott Rollins had hit him over the head with a steel chair. He had been knocked to the mat, nearly unconscious. When he got up, Goliath was down, and Scott Rollins was gone. Lucifer must have come out to the arena and saved Joey. Lucifer must have taken out both Rollins and Goliath. Since the ref had been down, hiding his head, it was fair game for anyone to come interfere without disqualification.
But why?
“It was the right thing to do? The right thing to do?” screamed Max. “I made you, you son of a bitch! And you spit on me! The point of the match tonight was to set up you and Goliath for next month’s pay per view. It was going to be the biggest match in wrestling history! We were all going to make a fortune!”
“So I wrestle Joey instead,” said Lucifer.
The words, so calmly delivered, turned Max from angry to raging, and as if the proverbial steam inside him were pressurized in his right side, and his right arm was the barrel from which the bullet of his fist exploded in a bath of scalding water vapor, Max swung a knockout blow at Lucifer’s face.
He connected with Lucifer’s left forearm. With truly frightening speed, Lucifer had raised his left arm to block the punch and, with his right, landed a straight blow of his own with an open palm, right in Max’s chest. Max flew off his feet, landing on his tailbone, then sliding backward half a yard. Lucifer remained seated, calmly looking at Max, the way one would look at a goldfish in a bowl.
Gasping for air, Max grabbed at his chest. His face went from anger to panic as he took his first few heaves, the breath clearly knocked out of his lungs. Vicky left her seat to tend to him. He waved her off, and the room sat quietly, listening to Max slowly regain control of his breathing.
Half a minute later, still gasping, Max managed to squeeze out the words, “You’re fired.”
Without saying anything, or even acknowledging Max with a nod or a scowl, Lucifer stood up and left the room.
Vicky helped Max to his feet. He brushed at his grey pants, tugged at his jacket until it was straight, then approached Joey.
“And you,” Max wheezed. “I can’t fire you, because I
never hired you, but I can promise you that you’ll never work in this business again. That title belt you’re holding belongs to me. I’m giving it to this man.” He pointed to Goliath. “You can either give it to him, or he can take it from you, and this time nobody’s going to help you.”
Goliath stood and walked toward Joey. He held out his hand. Joey looked down at the belt, the GWA World Championship, sitting in his lap. Three gold-plated shields, arranged on a leather belt. His dream since childhood. He was the GWA World Champion. He’d earned it. He was now going to experience his one and only title loss.
“It’s too late gentlemen. The world already knows.” The voice came from behind Max and Goliath. It was deep, and hoarse. It belonged to Gene Harold.
“What the hell are you talking about?” said Max.
“I’m talking about the scheme you two perpetrated on the wrestling world. I’m talking about the Family Television Group, The Saxon Fund, and Goliath’s Injury in Houston,” said Gene.
Joey and Jade looked at each other with the surprise of recognition. Their anonymous source was coming forward.
“Right now, the same kid who posted Joey’s statement tonight is posting the complete story of the greatest scandal in the history of our business. The money trail, the payoffs, the evidence, the whole thing – it’s on the web right now. And thanks to your brilliant idea to turn Joey’s shoot fight into an angle, to have his statement read on the air, every wrestling fan in the world is reading the truth as we speak.”
“Gene, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull,” said Max, “but I eat guys like you for breakfast. If you think you can mess with me you’ll be surprised when you find yourself in my stool. You’re fired. You, Joey, and Lucifer can hit the welfare line together. You’ll never work again.”
Gene stood up. “Max, I’ve been in this business for 30 years. I’m not going away anytime soon.”
“You might stay in the business, but starting tomorrow you’re back to high school gyms and fly-by-night trailer park tours buddy.” said Max.
“We’ll see,” said Gene. “Every generation, some hotshot like you comes into our business. And every one of them has failed, for the same reason you will. This is the dirtiest business in the world. You’re not up to it.”
Gene walked to the door, then stopped and held out his hand. “Joey, Jade, after you,” he said.
Joey set down the GWA World Title belt on the floor, then stepped over it as he and Jade left the locker room.