Closer to the Heart

“There’s a lot of ugly things in this world, son. I wish I could keep them all away from you.”

- Atticus Finch

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Joe’s truck had seen a lot of travel in the past several days. It was hardly an older model, but it had definitely seen its share of better days. The tires weren’t as firm. It was caked with dirty and dust from constant travel on the open road. The paint was worn. 

But it was a vehicle that had served him well for many years, and Joe was nothing if not loyal. He fiercely defended anyone that broke into his circle of trust, even if that “anyone” was a thing, and that thing happened to be an old truck he had for over a decade. In a way, he supposed, the truck reminded him of himself, and giving up the vehicle that kept him going for half his career would be like admitting that he was getting old and worn down himself. 

Of course the problem was that if the truck had a problem with the engine, you could just lift the hood and check. There was even a handy light to tell you something was wrong. 

People were different.

Lucy had been growing more distant, whether she was aware she was doing it or not. And giving her space was one thing, but she almost seemed to prefer being without his company. He tried to understand. Her ex-husband ended up being a miserable bastard in his later years, and was certainly someone that put her through hell. But time heals wounds and death heals more than one would think.

And either way, she spent a significant portion of her life with him, and he understood that too. She needed to grieve, and he would let her. But in doing so, he had not made the time to tell her about the deal he made with his own ex-spouse. It was a secret, in a way, but one that he figured she’d understand. 

In the meantime, he had his own doubts about his ability to even be the kind of person to take care of a little kid, so he decided to find someone to talk to about it. He had several friends who were fathers. Trent Steel. Will Prydor. He supposed Matt Knox counted as a father, if not exactly a friend. 

Instead, he decided to make a trip to Texas on his way to Reno for another show he was working. Mac Bane, who previously got him into shape for a match he ultimately lost, had been a father with his own share of issues for some time and could relate to the things JC was worried about, at least in part.

As his truck pulled along some gravel to a complete stop, he expected to see the cowboy waiting for him. Instead, he was greeted by another familiar face, leaning against a fence post with a curious smile across her features.

“I guess I should have expected to see you here,” he remarked, giving off as friendly of a tone as he could muster underneath his increasing weariness. His career. His leaving Carnage. His health. Lucy. It was all weighing on him and he was growing increasingly tired of carrying it. 

"Expected and yet not entirely enthusiastic to see. Don't worry, I can make myself scarce so you can have some 'boy time' with Mac."

Amber Ryan’s tone, in spite of it's sarcasm, was a lot more light-hearted than either of them were used to. Harsh and acerbic making way for something more… friendly.

“You make it sound so dirty,” he joked, as he got out of the vehicle and shut the door. “Where is the good ol’ boy, anyway?” 

"Oh you know me, never too far away", was Mac's reply as he stepped off the porch, still working on his morning coffee as was evident by the blue rimmed cup he carried. He looked at Joe, studying him, "you look tired, come on in and take a load off."

Joe nodded and shoved his fists inside the jacket he was wearing, walking up to the porch. He didn’t think he looked that tired, but he didn’t have any real interest in projecting strength. This wasn’t a wrestling match, just three veterans who know what it’s like to have everything drag someone down. 

On top of that, they were kindred spirits as they all lost their home. 

“It’s nice to actually show up here without getting beat up for once,” he said to no one in particular. He was in and out of his own thoughts. Mac smiled, “Well it is southern protocol to try to fulfill the wishes of the guest if at all possible”, he quipped in a way that showed how much Amber was rubbing off on him or the other way around. Mac and Amber brought Joe into the dining room, it was small but quiet. A place where Mac had hosted many friends, everything here was known to stay here. There was always coffee on, tea in the refrigerator and any number of food items available.

“Joe, help yourself if you want coffee or what have you, also cold sweet tea in the fridge and bottled water of course. Mostly because Amber hates sweet tea.”, he shook his head, obviously Mac didn’t understand why anyone would hate sweet tea. Mac pointed in the vague surroundings as he took a spot at the table. 

Joe rubbed the back of his neck, which had been sore post-surgery, and snagged himself a bottle of water. He sat opposite Mac at the table, and grabbed the top of the bottle as if he meant to untwist it, but he didn’t complete the motion. 

“Man I don’t know. I feel like I’m running out of friends to talk to. I know you and I aren’t buddies, but we understand each other.”

He popped off the top and sipped the water, then set the bottle down on the table. The cap he kept in his hand, playing with it between his fingers, keeping himself occupied. It was a common trick he did when he felt uncomfortable, and talking to someone he didn’t know all that well about personal matters was something that made him uncomfortable. 

“Anyway, you’ve been on the road for-fucking-ever like I have,” he added. “You’ve got a kid or three, I haven’t kept count, so maybe you’re the one I can talk to about this.”

"Shit Joe, I know we're not close like you are with Trent. Most friendships are built on respect, I'm pretty sure we have that. That's not the reason you're here though. So, what's on your mind?" 

Joe took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Nope, not comfortable at all. But he had to be absolutely sure before he went to Lucy with it. 

“Alright, so, my ex-wife...second ex-wife...she is moving to New York, full time job, requires a lot of travel. Which means we have to split kid time. And hey, I love Lizzie. She’s the best thing in my life. But I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle it. I’ve got my issues, Lucy’s got hers, and we’ve both got life on the road.”

He sighed. 

“Things were different when Lizzie was born. She was just a baby. I could take off for work or to let off steam and she would have no idea. When she was living with her mom only, she understood that I was with ‘Aunt Lucy’ or ‘on the TV’. But she’s gonna know if Dad is leaving her with a babysitter all the time.”

Joe spun the bottle cap absentmindedly as he spoke, as if it were a top, not looking his host in the eyes. Later, he’d wonder if perhaps Mac was taken aback by how unlike himself he was being. He stared at the cap for a moment until it settled into place, then looked up briefly.

“I can’t just not take the kid. And I want to have her around. I just don’t want to fuck her up with not being there…”

He paused for a moment, let out another breath, then continued.

“Or worse, by my being there. So any advice you have about being a dad in this fuckin’ business, I’d appreciate it.”

Mac paused for a long moment as if collecting his thoughts. "It was very different for me, my wife, may she rest in peace took care of the three kids we had. I called every night and when they got older, summer breaks turned into road trips for the whole family. The boys got to grow up in the business. Jules, well she's an amazing kid, in spite of what I've done for a living. How old is your kid?”

Joe smiled, genuinely, and leaned back in his chair a little bit. 

“She’ll be four in July,” he bragged. At the very least, thinking of his daughter eased him some.

Mac returned that genuine smile, "There's a lot you can do. Bring her to the shows, my daughter Jules comes to every show, she'll love helping." He scratches his beard as he thinks. "If you're not comfortable with that, is there someone in your family that could come on the road with you? That might help, to have a familiar face for her. I mean it's more limited if you don't want to bring her on the road with you."

“I’m sure GI would if I asked him.” Joe replied. 

He ran a hand over his head and back down to his neck. He wasn’t even sore now, he just needed to keep himself in motion at all times. Sitting still didn’t suit him well. 

“That’s only part of the issue though. The biggest issue is me - who I am, how broken my mind is, the things I’ve done. I don’t want to poison her with that.”

Joe shook his head.

“And what happens if I’m not doing well during a time she misbehaves? I mean, kids do that.”

He couldn’t even get the words out, as the thought disgusted him. He couldn’t even imagine getting angry with his daughter at all. And he knew she was in the same rare territory that Lucy was in. He’d never intentionally hurt her.

But he had unintentionally hurt as many people in his life as he did on purpose. His parents, for one. Lucy, for another. 

“I can’t exactly control myself all the time, and it scares me that there will be no distance. It’s not that I think I’d hurt her. I’d hurt myself first. But her seeing me...like I was back in ‘19...I don’t want her to see me like that.”

Mac nods his understanding, "Here's the thing Joe, it's not 2019. You know the warning signs now. The signs of when you're heading down the wrong path. When you're getting ready to lose it. I know it's cliche, but knowing is half the battle. You've got friends my man, we go back a ways and you'll have support. If you want it or need it. Whether it's Trent, GI or me and Amber. Not that I could or would speak for her. She's got a lot of respect for you though and she sees how hard you've been trying to get your life in order. That's a thing that speaks volumes."

Joe smirked. No way the enigmatic Amber Ryan, who keeps everything close to the vest, wanted her actual opinion of JC given out by the cowboy.

“Amber respects me, huh? She tell you that directly?”

"I told him in between cussing you out for acting like a massive tool for thinking you might eventually kick my face off."

Amber called out from the next room, her ears very obviously burning with the mention of her name.

Mac smiles, "See?"

Joe sat back and returned a smile of his own, but he started to feel a little sad. The business had him hard recently and he felt like he was losing a lot. More importantly, he missed having easy conversations with Lucy.

He resolved that one way or another, he was going to do his best to get things where they were.

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Joe felt like a liar. 

Or worse, he felt like he was trapped in someone else’s skin. A person that wasn’t beaten down by the frailty of his own condition, the pressure he put on himself and the bonds he tried to protect.

So many people. So many battles. So little time.

And now he had to put a smile on his face. Rise from his own emotional grave, shrug off the mental rot  and be strong. “All you zombies, hide your faces.” He had to be the one to press on. To twist his face into an unnatural Glasgow smile and lie through his teeth that everything was fine. That everything was peachy, thanks for asking. 

Because he loved her. Because she would do it for him. Because they were engaged to be married and she was going through a parade of bullshit that was tiresome and borderline ridiculous. A series of unfortunate events that felt like it was too awful to be true. The expression was true enough - when it rains, it pours. 

He would do it, and he would do it without complaint, because he had to be there for her. For both of them. He needed this to work for Lizzie and he needed to address it in just the right way so Lucy would be accepting.

Even if she was going through what she was going through, there was no way she’d turn him down. She wasn’t that person. But he didn’t want her to feel pressured or guilted into it. He didn’t want it to seem like something she had to do, and that was difficult as she was pulled in too many different directions.

He decided to wait until they were back in New York, in the condo they shared, to lay the situation out for her. So as they both shuffled around that morning, and she grabbed her coffee (or maybe something with a little more kick, who was he to judge), he walked up and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey Luce, can I talk to you a minute?”

She turned her head to glance at him, nodding her head as she took a sip of her drink. "What's up?"

He scratched the back of his head. It had been a couple of weeks and he hadn’t known how to put it. How exactly do you frame that? “Sorry for all the tragedy, here’s a free kid?” Nothing in life really prepared him for that, but how could anyone be prepared?

“I told you how I ran into Stacy a couple weeks back, right?” he asked. He had no idea if she would even remember that he even went to the graveyard that day, but it was as good a way to start the conversation as any. No sense in asking how she was, as they both knew and him constantly checking on her had to be getting annoying at this point.

"Yeah." She replied, stifling a yawn. "Said you saw her at the graveyard or something, right?"

“Something like that. Anyway, we were catching up and she said that she got a new job, and planned to move to the city.”

Lucy didn't look impressed.  Not that she didn't like Stacy, but she wasn't really worried about Stacy's job status.  "Okay?"

“I mean, that’s not the news. I’m getting there.” He smiled a little, trying to let her know his snark was friendly. He found that when emotions were high, it was hard to determine tone in a given conversation.

He cleared his throat and pressed on. 

“My point is that it’s full time and it requires travel. Which poses a problem, because we have a three-year-old that needs a parent.”

Her eyebrows raised in question.  "Can you just get to the point?  I mean, no offense but whatever it is you need to ask me, just ask."

Joe paused for a moment, as Lucy’s relatively short fuse as of late was an issue. But it was an issue for another time.

“I have a kid,” he said. “I need my kid to stay with me sometimes.”

"And you think I'd say no?"  A humorless chuckle comes from her mouth as she moved past him, cradling her drink in her hands. "I'm a lot of things, hun.. And I might not be the best person to be around lately but damn.. She's your kid.  Whatever arrangements you need to make, this is your home too."

He let out a sigh of relief. Then his shoulders relaxed and things felt a little less heavy.

“It’s not that I thought you would say no,” he admitted. “I just...how do you ask somebody for well, anything, considering what you’re dealing with?”

Joe rubbed the back of his neck again, still feeling at least some tension.

“Like, I’m not good at handling problems I can’t hit sometimes,” he joked. 

Lucy sighed in return. "When you moved in here, I told you this is your home.  You never even had to ask."

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Still seemed like something I shouldn’t just spring on you, though.”

"I get that.  But I mean you can't just hold off until I'm 'feeling better'.  But either way, you do what you gotta do for Lizzie."

That got a nod as he leaned against the counter. He thought for a moment. The conversation was awkward and felt forced. It wasn’t surprising, given everything, but frustrating nonetheless. 

“I will, but don’t forget that I also want to do what’s right for you.”

He smiled, as he had an idea.

“I’ve been trying to think about how to help you get out this dark hole you’re in,” he said hesitantly, not trying to upset her. “But really, the only one that’s gonna get you out is you. I’m around for support but…”

He shook his head, catching himself rambling.

“When I have bad shit happen, I throw myself into projects. Maybe that would help you? You could, I dunno, help set up a bedroom for the kid? Give it some of your own style?”

Joe chuckled briefly.

“I’m a lot of things, but I have no idea what a little girl would want out of a bedroom.”

A thoughtful expression crossed her features as she watched her fiance.  Finally she nodded her head. "Yeah, I can help you with that."

Even thoughtful was better than morose or numb, which had been the case lately. He’d take it.

“I suppose now is the moment where I make some dumb joke about being outnumbered around here,” he said with a smirk.

A small smirk came over Lucy's face. "Dumb is right.. You've always been outnumbered.  Whether you realize it or not."

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JC sits in a vacant room, nicer than the UGWC arena, but empty just the same. The lights are dimmed but it appears to be a condo of some kind, possibly his own. He's sitting with his hands clasped in front of his face. 

I watched The Shawshank Redemption the other day. I can't say I relate much to movie characters that often, but something about watching a man crawl through five hundred yards of shit is really something that struck me right now. Like Andy Dufresne, I found myself crawling through a lot of shit to get to where I am now. 

Escaping a prison of my own design, away from guards that seek conformity, to step out into freedom and success. 

And yes, there is a point to this.

He looks up, only moving his eyes to do so, and a smile forms behind his hands. 

Two points. 

With two points, I became the Block B leader in the Global Challenge. Of course there's the caveat that it's early and the block only has five people, but the facts are the facts. So far, I'm the only one in the block to actually get a win. 

That doesn't mean I'm going to rest comfortably and overlook Randy Boolzian. The work doesn't stop until February 8, when I've already secured my eight points and move onto the finals at Infinity. And I can have confidence and say that, while also know that things only get rougher ahead.

Last week, I had the tall task of pinning a former World champion in under ten minutes. I did that, although I cut it close. This week, I have to face a man that has a single point to his name. Boolzian didn't lose his last match in the Challenge, but he didn't win either. 

And trust me, as someone who is coming up on 21 years in the business, draws can be more painful than a loss. Especially in something like this, where every point matters. I don't know Boolzian, but I know how the minds of those in our business work. I know he's considering this the same as a loss. He may not be in the hole as deep as some, but he has no momentum. 

That makes him hungry and that makes him dangerous. 

In spite of his opponent's blunt and lackadaisical demeanor, JC had been in the business too long to underestimate anyone. He nodded his head as he spoke, ready to elaborate this point. 

See, I know what people say about you Randy. They say you're a sellout. They say you're an easy win. Some may even see you as a joke. Duncan Ryder implied as much when he belittled you in his promo and said he would "make an example" out of you. What happened? He couldn't beat you.

That showed me that you are more than your cavalier attitude and sponsorships. There's a warrior in there and someone worthy of respect. A draw stings but you are still unbeaten at the moment.

So I take you seriously, Randy. I didn't discount you at Outlast and I won't do so now. 

I take you seriously enough that I'm not going to play around, and I'm going to try to put you down quickly. Because I do have momentum. I can't afford to lose out on two points when I could establish myself as the runaway favorite. Momentum is everything in a match like this and I'll be damned if I let anyone cut mine off at the knees.

That said, I do have some concerns. 

JC shakes his head and smirks. Duncan Ryder may have underestimated Boolzian, but he wasn't wrong about the guy being a goof. And JC liked to take people like that down a peg or three.

And let's be honest, that whole hippie commune vibe you got going on doesn't exactly scream contender, you know?  I saw you take Ryder to the limit so I know you've got ability, but you look like you got orphaned by the early 2000s and haven't been able to catch up to the rest of us in 2021. Energy drinks and vaping. Paid sponsorships. You're trying so hard to put off a vibe of being aloof when you really just come off like a moron.

Hi, I'm JC. Welcome to my match against a Jackass. 

Hate to tell you, brah, Tony Hawk is an old man now and nobody listens to Limp Bizkit anymore. And at the risk of insulting myself, nobody needs a relic like you clogging up the Global Challenge.

You present an interesting dichotomy. A juxtaposition, if you will. Are you just obfuscating stupidity or are you an idiot savant?

He stood up now, preparing to leave and head to the airport, ready to face a match he had every confidence he could win. He stared down whoever might be watching, the view tilting upward to make him look bigger than he is.

Either way it's all the same. I kick you in the head, you go down. 1-2-3. Two more points for your next UGWC World Champion. 

Hope you enjoy that one point, because you're not getting another at my expense. That's not taking you lightly, PowerThirst, that's simply pointing out the inevitable.