January 24, 2017
JC hadn't actually been to his childhood home in a decade. He actually lived there himself long after his parents died, but moved out and gave the deed to his brother during a dark time in his life. He assumed that if they were still there, then all of the possessions of the past were boxed up in the basement, accumulating dust and apathy.
He was here looking for objects that he doubted even existed. After all, he was closing in on 41 years old and while he had a vague recollection of where they were stored, he doubted they would be there. If they were, he doubted they would be in any condition to be used again. He was here for items he had when he was a baby.
The only thing he kept of his former home, which housed him until he was twenty-two and then again when he achieved fame and success in his late twenties, was a spare key. He signed every square inch of it over to his brother when they weren't speaking and only took his wrestling belongings. Everything about that time in his life was full of regret, such as living in an apartment with nothing to remind him of his family.
If you asked him at the time why he even kept the key, he wouldn't be able to come up with a satisfactory reason. He was angry all the time, he was dealing with what he would later find out is bipolar disorder and he lost his brother, the only good thing in his life at the time.
Every once in a while, he would pull it out of his nightstand and look at it, its gleaming silver a reminder of what he used to have and what he lost.
His black Impala pulled to the curb in the East Rutherford neighborhood, which was more prosperous when he lived here than it currently was. Things were a little run down, and it was clear that for at least several homeowners, it was getting too expensive to live in the area. That made his old home stand out just a little more when he noticed that someone had keep maintaining it. The lawn had been cut before winter arrived and it looked like the outside may have been painted recently.
"Eric said he wasn't living here, right?"
"He said he wasn't using it. But someone's taking care of it."
Joe smiled a little to himself before exiting first. He then went to Stacy's side of the car and opened it for her. He was waiting on her hand and foot these days, as she was just starting to enter her second trimester. It was fourteen weeks, by his estimation, although they would know for sure at the next obstetrician visit.
"Joe, you really don't have to do this. I'm a grown woman."
"You can be independent when I'm on the road. For now, I'm taking care of you."
She had a warm smile on her face as she placed her hand in his and he helped her to stand. He knew that part of her enjoyed the attention just as part of her was absolutely sick of it. He knew his wife very well, but he helped her anyway because he wanted to.
They still couldn't feel the baby's movements yet, but they were assured that was a few weeks away. As for Stacy, she was feeling a lot better now and had more energy in the past few days than she was showing in the past month. Speaking of showing, she was definitely doing that. Of course, it was only something her husband would notice, during their morning showers or when they lay against each other at night.
There wasn't much of a bump yet, and it couldn't be seen in public, but it was there. Joe felt it against his hand when he held her and he felt his love grow to levels he couldn't imagine. She was also growing in other places, but they were places JC wouldn't mention in polite conversation.
She stepped onto the curb and he suddenly had a realization.
"Can you believe I've never brought you here before?"
"You're only just now talking to your brother again."
"Yeah, he might have called the cops on me for trespassing before."
She laughed a considerably loud laugh for two people that were in the middle of a residential neighborhood.
"Eric? Call the police on his brother? I doubt it."
"You still don't know him as well as you think you do."
"I know him well enough. Well, husband..."
She stuck an arm out, perpetuating the charade that chivalry was alive anywhere but in this marriage.
"Shall we?"
He grabbed it and looped it around his own, and the two walked arm in arm up the steps of the porch. As he approached the hard redwood door, JC had a moment of fleeting anxiety as he wondered if the key would even work. Useless anxiety of embarrassment that would never happen, because Stacy wouldn't care. They would just call Eric, let them know of their plans and he'd let them in.
Ultimately, it didn't matter because the lock clicked and the door opened with minimal effort.
"Oh...wow...."
The home was empty, but they expected that. What they didn't expect was that the inside was as well-maintained as the outside. He felt love for his brother then, who was keeping the house in a suitable condition. He was almost positive he wasn't cleaning it himself, but then GI wasn't exactly competing right now. If JC was honest, he wasn't exactly sure what his brother did with his free time.
"I can't believe he's been keeping this place tidy."
"There's barely any dust anywhere. Who is cleaning this place?"
"Maybe he's got some sort of maid service. He can afford it."
One thing Joe did when he still lived here was keep it in good condition. It wasn't just because he was the home's then-current resident, but because he always felt pangs of guilt over his parents. He wanted to keep the home relatively close to how they left it. It was his own way of memorializing them. You never forget the pain of losing your parents, no matter how long it's been.
Most of the furniture that he left behind belonged to his parents, and it was all here. A grandfather clock was in the corner, no longer ticking but it could with ease if someone set the pendulum moving again. The tables, the couch, the chairs, everything in the front room was as he left, it, albeit with covers draped over it all to prevent dust.
Joe didn't let emotions get to him often, but really hated himself for how he treated his brother and wished he could get those eight years back. It was clear he didn't deserve someone as good-natured as GI in his life, and he would spend the rest of it trying to earn his presence.
He walked over to the couch and ripped away the cover, revealing a red couch that showed its age but didn't show any wear or tear. He patted the cushion and Stacy took the invitation to come over.
"How old is this thing? Thirty years?"
"Older. I think my parents had it before Eric was born."
"No wonder you thought you might still have baby stuff here. This place is a museum."
He laughed at that, then nodded his head toward the kitchen area.
"Basement's that way, and you're staying here."
"Come on, I don't want to be up here by myself."
"Second trimester means you don't go down flights of steps into murky basements."
She sighed, knowing his heart was in the right place. With a fake pout on her face, she lowered herself onto the couch before pulling out her phone.
"Fine, I'll see if there are any good Pokemon here."
"Wait, you..."
She smiled at him, letting him in on the joke.
"Funny. I'll be back in a few."
He moved through the kitchen, which unlike the living room, was bare. He assumed whatever dishes were here were now in said basement, if not in his brother's possession or given away. He removed the latch on the basement door, which his father told him was only put on when he was born. The door creaked open and he grabbed a chain to pull the light on. He did so without hesitation, because at this point he was sure that there would still be electricity.
The light blinked to life and he continued his journey. Considering how well Eric had taken care of the property, it wouldn't surprise him if the water was still on too.
He glanced over to the corner directly facing the stairs. He kept his trophy case there and used to stand near it to record messages for his opponents. He remembered faking the destruction of his old belts for a video to Jesse Williams and laughed. Not going through with destroying his belts was the one form of treachery he was glad he executed. He liked to be reminded of his achievements, because each one was earned one way or the other.
He wasn't even sure where to start down here, but he was positive he kept childhood items behind the steps. Anything older was kept as far away from any potential flood damage as possible. His eyes traced the room and he saw an old RCA TV in the very back, with a cover on it. As he made his way down the last few steps, he thought about coming back to see if it worked one day in the future.
Just under the steps were several medium-sized boxes and he was overjoyed to see that his memory had not failed him. The boxes were all marked "family", which is what he labeled anything from the time when he and Eric still had a family. Photo albums, select belongings of their parents (including their mother's wedding dress), old childhood toys, and more.
He grabbed the first box and set it down on the ground, opening it up to reveal several framed photographs. On top was simply a missing frame, although he knew where that photo was. It was a picture of himself and his brother, with cardboard title belts, celebrating in their backyard for a fictional win. He previously kept that in his wallet, before he began the restoration process of his fractured brotherhood.
The first box was placed aside and he looked and saw a smaller box, right against a step, labeled "baby." As it turned out, JC's attention to detail and reliable memory had saved him hours of looking. He grabbed the box and turned to head back up the stairs, when he had an idea.
He pulled the missing photo out of his wallet and his lips turned upward into a grin as he placed it back inside the frame. He had the genuine article back in his life now, he didn't need to look at old memories anymore.
As he went back up the stairs, he thought a proper visit to the house with GI was in order so they could go through everything. There was no point in these objects collecting dust when they could be put to good use. Maybe after the baby was born they could set aside some time and get it done.
He moved a little quicker now, as if he had a sudden weight removed from his shoulders. He was almost beaming with pride as he came in and plopped the box down next to his wife on the couch. She looked up from whatever Youtube video she was watching and gave him an incredulous look.
"That was fast."
"I told you I knew where it was. I just wasn't sure it was still here."
"Have you looked inside of it?"
"Not yet. I thought we could do that together."
She stood up and he began to open the box, but she gently laid her hand on his wrist, causing him to stop.
"Joe, you know I love you, and I would love to go through all these memories with you but...I'm tired again. Plus, no offense, your old house gives me the creeps."
It was an absurd thought to him, as this was always home, but he guessed that a nearly-barren house with white sheets and dust covers over everything. It was just a house to her.
Even with all the memories inside of it, it partially felt like just a house to him too. After all, he hadn't lived here for a decade and his family was elsewhere. Eric lived in another house, his parents were long deceased and he wasn't even living in the same city.
He had two new immediate family members with him right now, and he was going to continue to put them first as he always did. Joe scooped up the box and laid it on his shoulder, holding it down with his left hand while stretching out his right so his wife could grab it.
"Come on, Stace. Let's go home."
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I sat in my bed, with my arm draped over my wife, and looked out the window. For some reason, I had no idea where I was or how I got there.
It was that haze you sometimes get when you're half asleep and aren't completely aware of your surroundings. When your brain hasn't had time to fully separate you from the fog of your subconscious.
I was in a similar haze after my arrival in UGWC.
You see, I'm a double champion, I haven't been pinned since October and I strolled into UGWC and beat your 'Embodiment of Fear' with relative ease. I didn't necessarily think UGWC was going to be easy, because I've fought Chaos. That guy hits harder than I do. But I did think UGWC was going to be a fun place to show up and ply my trade. That is, I thought that until I was hit with knees to the head as I tried to enter the ring to help my friend.
Thank you for removing the wool from my eyes, Jet Somers. Thank you for letting me know that I don't have to hold back and play nice with some of you. It's good news for me to drop the friendly attitude and get down to business. I came here to compete, but I can hurt people if I have to.
You see, I have a mean streak. It's a nasty one, too. There's a side of JC that unless you've followed my career you know nothing about. I've hurt people. I've put people in comas. I've bloodied them beyond recognition. I'm not proud of it, especially since it was me giving in to my very real mental illness, but it's a part of me that's there.
It's a part of me that I have to keep in shackles. I can't let that ultraviolent side out, because I don't like the person I become. And no, this isn't a speech to let you know that I plan on stomping your face into pulp because you've allowed me to remove those shackles. No, you're not worth that. You're not worth ruining all of my progress over.
But you have opened my eyes to the fact that maybe I can get a little more aggressive with you. Maybe I can kick you in the face just a little bit harder to prove my point. I am JC. I am the answer to all that is wrong with this sport: past, present and future. It was long past time for me to wake up from the haze that beating Jesse Williams put me in and get back to doing what I do best. That's kicking people in the face.
Who are you, Jet Somers?
I think we found that out last week. You see while I was taking some friendly pre-match jabs, you quickly journeyed into the realm of disrespect. It didn't take much prodding from your tag partner to do it, which says to me that you weren't all that great of a person to begin with. There's a line between jabs between opponents and underhanded attacks that you just crossed.
Once again, it's your blatant ignorance that really bothers me. The idea that you can just fuck with me and get away with it. The idea that I'm not going to rend you for pissing me off. This time you've got no backup. It's just you and me. You don't get to win this time, Jet. You don't get to get away. The only thing you get to do is kiss your vertebrae goodbye.
I'm going to have fun kicking some respect into you. Consider Infinity my true welcoming party. It's the event where everyone in UGWC realizes I'm not just some OWF cast-off who came here with nothing better to do. I am the best this business has ever seen and I will not be stopped.
That's not some baseless claim. That's not me bragging on some ancient history. I've earned every single thing I've ever achieved in this business and I'm fortunate enough to be on the best run of my career even as others my age have retired. So you'll excuse me if I take a little fucking pride in the things I've accomplished and the skills that allowed me to do it.. I'm so sorry it wounds your precious ego that I didn't lick your boots the second I arrived in the door.
Everything I said about you last week, acknowledging your title wins and giving you credit? Throw that out the window. You may be dangerous in that ring, but I'm on a different level and it's time I show you that. Don't worry about those credentials though, you'll soon get thrown out with them. If you want to disrespect me and attack me from behind, that's fine.
That just makes it easier to drop you on your skull and not feel bad about it.
I could use a good night's sleep.
