Post by Mac Bane on Dec 19, 2012 16:32:24 GMT -4
“A cause more Noble than my own.”
{Toledo Bend, Texas – 6 A.M.}
The edges of daylight begin to peak above the horizon causing the surface of the water to shimmer as if they are on fire. The water even here has reached a frigid temperature as I watch Buck try to catch a catfish with his bare hands. Noodling is what it’s called, it’s no joke, and it’s dangerous as Hell but very rewarding in more than one way. Buck doesn’t use profanity as his hands come up out of the water he sucks his thumb in pain as he misses the mouth of the channel cat and gets whiskers.
Buck – Dang Mac, didn’t this use to be fun when we were kids?
I chuckle at his pain and approach the bank extending a hand to help my cousin back up to where I am. I lay the black Stetson and duster on the tailgate of my truck as I take my turn.
Mac – Thumb numb?
Buck – Its nothing, don’t know what that little man was complaining about.
I chose this method of training for Buck and I because of the speed and power that we will be facing in Michael Lively and his partner and personal bitch Sabur. I take my turn stabling my hand into the water and missing badly. I get finned in the process, jerking my hand out of the water and looking down at the thin red line on my hand as blood seeps out.
Mac – Well Hell, that’ll leave a mark.
Buck – It’ll make a good addition to the other scars you wear like badges of honor.
I take my t-shirt off and wrap my hand in it for a minute until the bleeding stops. Then I throw the shirt up on the bank and go back to work. I stab my hand into the water and score this time. Its not the biggest fish we have caught today but it will do. I throw the catfish up on the bank and Buck takes care of the rest.
Mac – I think that’ll do Buck, ten catfish ought to feed everyone don’t you think?
Buck grins at me, “I don’t know Mac, you and J-Mac can eat most people out of house and home.”
I laugh at my cousin shaking my head, “Okay, your turn then.”
I climb back up on the bank with his help. Gooch and I have been noodling since we were kids, back then we didn’t realize the danger until a young man we went to school with died in the river. He underestimated the power he was dealing with, a lesson we learned and never forgot. Of course that was the Natchez River, Toledo Bend is pretty tame. Just like we try to treat our opponents with respect, we respect the creatures that God placed on this earth, never killing anything we don’t plan to eat.
Buck – Let’s take a break, have some tea and maybe a sammich.
Not waiting for me to agree or not Buck heads to the truck to grab our lunch leaving me to my own thoughts.
**********
The sun has reached its zenith, allowing the sun to spread as much warmth as one can expect for East Texas in December. Lunch is over and the dishes that were used have been taken into the house for cleaning. I sit on the bank watching the waves ripple as a shadow is cast over my face. Buckson Gooch takes a seat next to me.
Buck – Good lunch.
I smile at my cousin and the satisfied look of a man who has been well fed.
Mac – very good.
He hesitates for a moment and a deep sigh escapes him. I look over at him in askance….
Buck – Why do you do it Mac?
I allow a chuckle to escape me before giving it much thought.
Mac – Well Cousin, it depends on which “it” we are talking about.
His brows furrow in obvious frustration, trying desperately to find the right words for his question. He finally just says what is on his mind.
Buck – All of it Mac, any of it, why are you helping me, why wrestling? Why the heck aren’t you at the hospital with Holly?
A few years ago, I would have allowed the rage to consume me and I would have ruined his whole day right there in front of God and everyone else. Instead, I lay my hand on his shoulder gripping it firmly.
Mac – Buck, for a lot of years I was probably the most selfish son of a bitch on the face of the planet. The fans hated me, my own family could barely tolerate my arrogance and brashness. Hell I made Michael Lively look like a rank amateur. He thinks he has the market cornered on frustration and bitterness about his lack of success. I was ten times worse and ten times better. There are several reasons that I do what I do Buck.
I begin ticking the items off on my fingers.
Love of family.
When I first learned of your plight, I thought now there is a cause I can get behind. There is no greater cause than trying to help your family cousin. And you know me well enough to know that I love a good fight and when I have a cause to fight for I can be the most lethal man on this roster. I was retired and really kind of enjoying it…no that’s a lie, I was bored out of my mind and really needed to come back to wrestling. Other than flying a Joint Strike Fighter its one of the things I’m really good at, not much of a job market in the civilian community for that though.
Love of this business.
I thrive in matches like the one we have with Michael Lively and Sabur. The reason is that they are everything that is wrong with this business. Lively thinks he’s being original and cute with his little quips about us. Truth is I was doing it long before him and much better than him. I was the original angry assassin in this business. Yeah…Broke Back Mountain jokes…only heard that about 30 or 40 times. I’ll admit it was funny the first half a dozen times I heard it…now…not so much. Your just boring everyone to tears. But keep poppin that heavy bag little man.
The Savior of APW?
The last time I checked it didn’t need saving by you, maybe from you, the real question Lively is can you save yourself from the worst ass whippin of your entire life. Jesus? Bitch please! You do know the last guy to be known by that name was crucified right? You better get a grip son, ‘cause you aint funny but I have the cure for funny guys….size 14 boot should fit just about right.
Kash?
You don’t need to worry yourself about Kash, the man is way out of your league son. Be greatful for the opportunity you have against The Sons of the South. Maybe if you’re a good boy they might start booking you on a regular basis again. That and divine intervention might get your career back on the right track.
Sabur.
A former champion, a roided up freak of nature, an idiot for trusting you any farther than he can throw you. Which at his size might be a considerable distance. We are not worried about the size and strength of Sabur. Why? In case you haven’t noticed my partner is not exactly a midget. I have fought bigger, better and smarter opponents than you my friend. You guys should have served in the military, they don’t just teach you how to get over walls, they teach you how to get over yourself. But then….what fun would this match be?
I have for a long time gotten behind the wrong people and the wrong ideals in this business, now I have something I can get behind that has nothing to do with politics or chasing individual titles to prove that I am the best in the world. The only thing I am working towards is getting The Sons of the South back on the right track. Back to our winning ways and back in the hunt for those tag team titles. That cousin is the reason I do what I do. For you, for your family, for the fans of APW.
Buck looks at me like he is seeing me for the first time, I know that he notices I haven’t mentioned Holly and for now I plan on keeping it that way.
Scene fades…
[Port Arthur Regional Hospital – Port Arthur, Texas]
The halls of the hospital smell anything but clean, they smell like someone is trying to hide something. The smell of disinfectant and other chemicals makes it seem like they are trying to cover up the smell of death.
Mac – Like a promo filled with bravado.
I am not allowed to actually see Holly yet as she lay in intensive care, I can only watch from the viewing area as she is kept under sedation while her cuts and abrasions heal. It was the internal damage that the surgeon was most worried about.
Mac – whoever did this has a head start…I hope they are a fast runner.
That had been mine and Holly’s credo, whatever doesn’t kill us had better run and it would seem that they had indeed run. No one had stepped forward to claim their handy work and so far the local cops had no idea who did this to her.
Mac – Keep running mother fucker….you’ll die tired.
It’s times like these that I’m glad that Buck isn’t around to see and hear me backsliding….back to my old way of thinking…back to the more primal version of myself. I cannot afford to back down that path again, I was much like a certain Mr. Noble in APW…so much so it scared me half to death. But that was a long time ago.
“Mr. Bane?”
I look up just as the nurse lays her hand on my sleeve to get my attention.
Mac – Yes ma’am, you have an update for me?
Nurse – Not exactly, according to the records you and a Josiah Would are the only known relatives, is that correct?
I had not seen or heard from Josiah since the night they left, I run my fingers through my long dark hair taking the time to tie it up in a pony tail before responding.
Mac – That’s right, Josiah is her little brother.
Nurse – Our records indicate that Josiah Would died 6 months ago….
I never heard the rest of it as the blood drained from my face. I can vaguely hear the nurse calling my name as I leaned up against the wall and sank to the floor staring at…nothing…feeling…nothing…its not possible that Josiah…a boy of 11 could be dead…not possible….what had she done?
Scene fades to black…
{Toledo Bend, Texas – 6 A.M.}
The edges of daylight begin to peak above the horizon causing the surface of the water to shimmer as if they are on fire. The water even here has reached a frigid temperature as I watch Buck try to catch a catfish with his bare hands. Noodling is what it’s called, it’s no joke, and it’s dangerous as Hell but very rewarding in more than one way. Buck doesn’t use profanity as his hands come up out of the water he sucks his thumb in pain as he misses the mouth of the channel cat and gets whiskers.
Buck – Dang Mac, didn’t this use to be fun when we were kids?
I chuckle at his pain and approach the bank extending a hand to help my cousin back up to where I am. I lay the black Stetson and duster on the tailgate of my truck as I take my turn.
Mac – Thumb numb?
Buck – Its nothing, don’t know what that little man was complaining about.
I chose this method of training for Buck and I because of the speed and power that we will be facing in Michael Lively and his partner and personal bitch Sabur. I take my turn stabling my hand into the water and missing badly. I get finned in the process, jerking my hand out of the water and looking down at the thin red line on my hand as blood seeps out.
Mac – Well Hell, that’ll leave a mark.
Buck – It’ll make a good addition to the other scars you wear like badges of honor.
I take my t-shirt off and wrap my hand in it for a minute until the bleeding stops. Then I throw the shirt up on the bank and go back to work. I stab my hand into the water and score this time. Its not the biggest fish we have caught today but it will do. I throw the catfish up on the bank and Buck takes care of the rest.
Mac – I think that’ll do Buck, ten catfish ought to feed everyone don’t you think?
Buck grins at me, “I don’t know Mac, you and J-Mac can eat most people out of house and home.”
I laugh at my cousin shaking my head, “Okay, your turn then.”
I climb back up on the bank with his help. Gooch and I have been noodling since we were kids, back then we didn’t realize the danger until a young man we went to school with died in the river. He underestimated the power he was dealing with, a lesson we learned and never forgot. Of course that was the Natchez River, Toledo Bend is pretty tame. Just like we try to treat our opponents with respect, we respect the creatures that God placed on this earth, never killing anything we don’t plan to eat.
Buck – Let’s take a break, have some tea and maybe a sammich.
Not waiting for me to agree or not Buck heads to the truck to grab our lunch leaving me to my own thoughts.
**********
The sun has reached its zenith, allowing the sun to spread as much warmth as one can expect for East Texas in December. Lunch is over and the dishes that were used have been taken into the house for cleaning. I sit on the bank watching the waves ripple as a shadow is cast over my face. Buckson Gooch takes a seat next to me.
Buck – Good lunch.
I smile at my cousin and the satisfied look of a man who has been well fed.
Mac – very good.
He hesitates for a moment and a deep sigh escapes him. I look over at him in askance….
Buck – Why do you do it Mac?
I allow a chuckle to escape me before giving it much thought.
Mac – Well Cousin, it depends on which “it” we are talking about.
His brows furrow in obvious frustration, trying desperately to find the right words for his question. He finally just says what is on his mind.
Buck – All of it Mac, any of it, why are you helping me, why wrestling? Why the heck aren’t you at the hospital with Holly?
A few years ago, I would have allowed the rage to consume me and I would have ruined his whole day right there in front of God and everyone else. Instead, I lay my hand on his shoulder gripping it firmly.
Mac – Buck, for a lot of years I was probably the most selfish son of a bitch on the face of the planet. The fans hated me, my own family could barely tolerate my arrogance and brashness. Hell I made Michael Lively look like a rank amateur. He thinks he has the market cornered on frustration and bitterness about his lack of success. I was ten times worse and ten times better. There are several reasons that I do what I do Buck.
I begin ticking the items off on my fingers.
Love of family.
When I first learned of your plight, I thought now there is a cause I can get behind. There is no greater cause than trying to help your family cousin. And you know me well enough to know that I love a good fight and when I have a cause to fight for I can be the most lethal man on this roster. I was retired and really kind of enjoying it…no that’s a lie, I was bored out of my mind and really needed to come back to wrestling. Other than flying a Joint Strike Fighter its one of the things I’m really good at, not much of a job market in the civilian community for that though.
Love of this business.
I thrive in matches like the one we have with Michael Lively and Sabur. The reason is that they are everything that is wrong with this business. Lively thinks he’s being original and cute with his little quips about us. Truth is I was doing it long before him and much better than him. I was the original angry assassin in this business. Yeah…Broke Back Mountain jokes…only heard that about 30 or 40 times. I’ll admit it was funny the first half a dozen times I heard it…now…not so much. Your just boring everyone to tears. But keep poppin that heavy bag little man.
The Savior of APW?
The last time I checked it didn’t need saving by you, maybe from you, the real question Lively is can you save yourself from the worst ass whippin of your entire life. Jesus? Bitch please! You do know the last guy to be known by that name was crucified right? You better get a grip son, ‘cause you aint funny but I have the cure for funny guys….size 14 boot should fit just about right.
Kash?
You don’t need to worry yourself about Kash, the man is way out of your league son. Be greatful for the opportunity you have against The Sons of the South. Maybe if you’re a good boy they might start booking you on a regular basis again. That and divine intervention might get your career back on the right track.
Sabur.
A former champion, a roided up freak of nature, an idiot for trusting you any farther than he can throw you. Which at his size might be a considerable distance. We are not worried about the size and strength of Sabur. Why? In case you haven’t noticed my partner is not exactly a midget. I have fought bigger, better and smarter opponents than you my friend. You guys should have served in the military, they don’t just teach you how to get over walls, they teach you how to get over yourself. But then….what fun would this match be?
I have for a long time gotten behind the wrong people and the wrong ideals in this business, now I have something I can get behind that has nothing to do with politics or chasing individual titles to prove that I am the best in the world. The only thing I am working towards is getting The Sons of the South back on the right track. Back to our winning ways and back in the hunt for those tag team titles. That cousin is the reason I do what I do. For you, for your family, for the fans of APW.
Buck looks at me like he is seeing me for the first time, I know that he notices I haven’t mentioned Holly and for now I plan on keeping it that way.
Scene fades…
[Port Arthur Regional Hospital – Port Arthur, Texas]
The halls of the hospital smell anything but clean, they smell like someone is trying to hide something. The smell of disinfectant and other chemicals makes it seem like they are trying to cover up the smell of death.
Mac – Like a promo filled with bravado.
I am not allowed to actually see Holly yet as she lay in intensive care, I can only watch from the viewing area as she is kept under sedation while her cuts and abrasions heal. It was the internal damage that the surgeon was most worried about.
Mac – whoever did this has a head start…I hope they are a fast runner.
That had been mine and Holly’s credo, whatever doesn’t kill us had better run and it would seem that they had indeed run. No one had stepped forward to claim their handy work and so far the local cops had no idea who did this to her.
Mac – Keep running mother fucker….you’ll die tired.
It’s times like these that I’m glad that Buck isn’t around to see and hear me backsliding….back to my old way of thinking…back to the more primal version of myself. I cannot afford to back down that path again, I was much like a certain Mr. Noble in APW…so much so it scared me half to death. But that was a long time ago.
“Mr. Bane?”
I look up just as the nurse lays her hand on my sleeve to get my attention.
Mac – Yes ma’am, you have an update for me?
Nurse – Not exactly, according to the records you and a Josiah Would are the only known relatives, is that correct?
I had not seen or heard from Josiah since the night they left, I run my fingers through my long dark hair taking the time to tie it up in a pony tail before responding.
Mac – That’s right, Josiah is her little brother.
Nurse – Our records indicate that Josiah Would died 6 months ago….
I never heard the rest of it as the blood drained from my face. I can vaguely hear the nurse calling my name as I leaned up against the wall and sank to the floor staring at…nothing…feeling…nothing…its not possible that Josiah…a boy of 11 could be dead…not possible….what had she done?
Scene fades to black…
