Eddie and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

“What’s with you today?” 

The voice of Vivica Valentine sliced through the air like a pair of scissors held by a kindergarten teacher showing a student how to cut shapes from a sheet of construction paper. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just having trouble with the transition. It feels like.. I can’t understand how to get you locked into a cloverleaf.”

“This is simple Eddie, it’s just like a figure fou… are you listening?” Vivica broke his clumsy attempt and swept his legs with a deft movement, which sent him crashing to the mat. “This is why you lost, you know. You can’t give your opponent an advantage by losing focus. Not one second.”

“Yeah? Well that’s easy for you to say.”

“It is easy for me to say because I live wrestling, breathe wrestling, and I lost my career for wrestling. What’s your excuse?” she snapped back at her student. 

Eddie glanced away, obviously bothered, but not willing to meet her in the middle for a real answer. Instead he opted to use an old CoD tactic, a diversion. “He’s too big, this will never work anyhow.”

“Mushigihara?”

“Who else would I be talking about?” Eddie retaliated, with a coarse rasp in his throat. “This is stupid, I just want to go for a run. Dave always let me go for a run when I needed to work out problems.”

“I’m not Dave and that’s not how we do things here.”

“Well, maybe it should be.” he chipped at her, immaturely. “It doesn’t matter anyhow. There aren’t any mountains here, just stupid cemeteries and old buildings. I hate this pla… ”

Vivica wasn’t one to mince reactions. She did what came naturally and, without warning, grabbed his legs and twisted them into a pretzel. She elevated the hold until he slapped the canvas in desperation. 

“Too big?” she snorted in disbelief over his short-sightedness, and dropped him with a booming thud to the canvas. “The only thing too big is your ego. Why don’t you hit the showers and take the rest of the day off. We do things my way here, do you hear me?”

His gaze ignited the air between them. “I hear you.”

She shook her head, disappointed, and glared through EC. “You need to get it together. If you don’t want to do this, that’s OK, you’re just a kid.

VJ knelt next to him, eye level.  

“But if you’re going to make something of yourself, the sooner you start to take this seriously, the better. I will not be disrespected by know-it-all shits like you, though. You’d do well to remember.”  

She softened just enough to notice and pushed the champagne blond half of hair behind her ear. 

“Ed, This isn’t a game. This is a career. I took it so seriously that I gave everything I had and it took back from me.” She tapped her head, Eddie presumed to indicate traumatic damage. “Are you willing to go that distance for the business? If not, it might be time to walk away and do something else with your life.” Almost on cue, she stood up and walked to the door, stopping just before she left the room. “Pay your dues before the next show.”     

💻

As Eddie dressed after coming out of the showers, he felt uneasy. He turned to see three members of Vivica’s current class led by Grant Hampton, a member of the gym that was a bit older than the other students. He shook his head as he approached EC and chuckled, condescendingly. “What was that earlier?”

“Not today, bro.” Eddie was annoyed and the tone of his voice made that clear.

“Bro? I’m not your bro.” Grant stated matter-of-factly.

Eddie tried to walk away, but the three men stopped him from leaving by moving between him and the exits of the locker room. EC lowered his eyes and blinked as he mumbled something inaudible.

“What’s wrong? You don’t want to talk? You think we don’t all know who you are and why you are here?” one of Grant’s goons prodded with a barbed question. 

Grant flashed his fingers in the air mockingly, as if he were caught in Eddie’s radiance. “What’s the deal, rockstar? You have no problem mouthing off on tv and online, and now when you’re face to face with someone who will talk back, you have nothing to say?”

“It’s not that,” Eddie replied distantly. “I just want to train and be left alone.”

“Of course it’s all about what you want, isn’t it?” Grant’s words dripped with poison. “Have you thought about anyone else since you came here? About how you could help some of us out?”

“Truthfully, I don’t think much about you… any of you. Am I supposed to?” Eddie shrugged, thinking he asked an honest question. 

“Damn! I thought it was an act at first, but now that I talk to you, I realize you really are who they say you are.”

“And who am I, exactly?” EC looked genuinely confused. 

“Crybaby Cross.” Grant answered with a sharp laugh in spite of Eddie. EC curled his lip into a snarl as violence formed in his eyes. “Oh, you don’t like that name? Tough; because you are.” 

Grant stalked Eddie, staring him down as he did. “Tell me something Crybaby, how did you really get into PRIME? I’ve been asking Viv all year and couldn’t get an audition.”

Eddie looked away and tried to walk past Grant toward the door once again. “I don’t need this.”

The older wrestler put his hand on Eddie’s chest, stopping him in place. “Uh-uh. Didn’t you hear Viv? You gotta pay your dues before the next show.” 

The other two members of Grant’s entourage jumped Eddie, cutting off any route of escape. Soon his arms were restrained from both sides. Though he managed to headbutt the man on the right before Grant knocked the wind out of him with a hard punch to the diaphragm, there was no chance against all three at once. Eddie looked up at Grant. He was gasping and coughing, breathing in shallow wheezes.

“Keep your mouth shut,” Grant grabbed him under the chin and pulled his eyes up to meet his own. “Or I’ll get you kicked out of this gym too.”

They dropped Eddie into a heap on the tiled gym floor and walked out of the locker-room laughing to themselves and joking as if nothing at all had just happened. 

He had a sudden sharp pang of anxiety triggered by a memory long since repressed. 

💻

Not that long ago. 

.

Leaving my specialized class with the three or four other kids that were in need of more individual attention from a teacher was never easy. Most of the time we all scurried in different directions hoping that if we were separate targets, then we couldn’t all be hit with the ridicule that waited for us in the halls of Lake Nona Middle School in Orlando, Florida. 

“Kid’s can be cruel” is a cliché, right? Not when I lived it every day. Not when I was five foot nothing at the start of the ninth grade and everyone else had hit their growth spurts. Even the girls. Not when my best friend was “the fat kid”, even though he was nice to me and played video games with me after school. In fact, we’re still best friends. 

They called us names, whispered when the teachers were around, to our face when they weren’t. The Window Lickers. That one was probably the most unique. We earned the name because we liked to congregate by an entrance on the north side of the school and talk by a big picture window with safety wire integrated inside. Apparently if there were smudges from pressing up against the glass, that indicated we were unable to resist trying to get to the chocolate center of the glass Tootsie Pop. Nobody else would be caught dead there, after all. 

Virgin Squad for reasons never understood by the rest of the group who were fourteen to fifteen years old at the time. I had a crush on a girl named Madison who was way out of my league and understood the negative connotations immediately. 

There were more. Some weren’t all that creative and bored the masses quickly. Some were extremely creative and stuck around a while. They all sucked. 

Being a twin, I thought everything was identical. I thought that at least I’d have some support built into this deal, right? As it happens, though it’s rare, even identical twins can develop at different rates, some even as far as years apart. So while one of us was lagging behind, the other was blooming spectacularly. A linebacker on the JV football team. Honors student. Had a girlfriend. Popular. The list goes on. 

I wasn’t any of these things. 

Most of the time, I was left alone because of my brother. But sometimes one of the boys would decide they just couldn’t resist the temptation and it was worth the inevitable beating they were going to take.

I got really good at running. I got really good at hiding. I got really good at slipping away when nobody was looking. I even knew all the school hacks, and how to get to the locker room where I could find my brother and be safe. This was my hell. No it was worse than Hell. At least if there is Hell, you can reasonably believe there is a God and maybe if you go through this every day there is a paradise to make up for the suffering. No, this torture was designed to drive me to atheism. 

Today, I was the young wildebeest that was separated from the pack. I tried all my best tricks. I ran through Mr. Porter’s empty room to put distance on the pride. They knew that trick though and were right on me. I slipped into the commons, blending into the crowd, but it’s hard not to stand out when you don’t fit in. I tried losing them in a stairwell, but they knew where I was going and flushed me out as soon as I hit the math block on the second level. 

I didn’t have much of a choice, it was speed versus speed, and speed was the only thing I had going for me. I ran for it, past the library, past the lunchroom, past the Olympicsized pool with the chlorine that hung in the air and stung my eyes. I bolted through the open door to the boys locker room, but Junior wasn’t there. 

Nobody could save me now. Least of all the gym teacher, who usually just turned around and said “boys will be boys.” I was trapped. I sat down and placed my head on my arms, which rested on my knees, and I waited. 

Junior found me two hours later after he came back in from practice. I was locked inside one of the open mesh lockers that were stacked one on top of the other and ran from one end of the room to the other, dividing the locker room into rows. I had long since run out of tears at that point.             

💻

As he had years ago, he laid his head on his arms as he crossed them over his knees and closed his eyes. 

Doubt crept through Eddie like darkness crawled through the night.

Eddie had now bitten off more than he could chew for the second time this week and been slapped with reality both times. What the hell was he doing picking a fight with Mushigihara? They called him the God Beast for a reason. What the hell was he doing fighting with Grant and his goons? Which reality was the one where he won?

The shit talking was only to drum up numbers and sell tickets, right? Dave had always told him it was about business. The good guys, the bad guys, the talk, the wrestling. It was a fantastic stage show where the fans came to see the soap opera and if things went well, lived on the edge of their seats. “Better than Broadway” he liked to say. It legitimately hadn’t occurred to Eddie that maybe some of the other wrestlers did not understand the concept and took offense. Why didn’t he see that they might hate him on a personal level for saying what he said and acting the part? What was wrong with him?

His phone trilled. He coughed and noticed that it was a message from the local pharmacy. 

Out of meds again. Of course.

He just wanted to be left alone. 

Fuck these guys. Fuck Mushigihara.

 

Fuck this life.

💻

A short time later. 

.

Eddie made his way through the halls carefully. Instincts he hadn’t used for years kicked in as he calculated the quickest path to the gym’s accounting office. He closed the door behind himself and as he walked up to the desk, pulled his phone out of his pocket. A sign on the desk said “Gloria Bennett.” She was a middle aged, but still attractive, woman that kept her work area quite organized.  

“Hey, uh, Gloria, I’m Eddie Cross, and I need to pay my dues for the month. I should be in the system. Hey, can I pay with my phone?”

Gloria smiled at Eddie as he held his phone out to the pay station. “I’m sorry, we don’t do that yet. Do you have a card or a check?” She tapped away at her keyboard, pulling up his account as they talked. 

“Checks? What are those?” Eddie shoved his phone back into his pocket and dug out a well worn card. He handed it over to Gloria and she ran it through a terminal before making a concerned frown and looking back to the young man. 

“I’m sorry, Eddie, but it appears to be declined.”

“What?”

“I’ll try it again.” Gloria ran the card and furrowed her brow. “No, I’m sorry, it’s not working. Do you have another card?”

“No.” Eddie sighed. “Gimme a minute, I have to make a call.”

He stepped into the hallway and closed his eyes, thinking for a minute that there is no way this day could get worse. He retrieved his phone from his pocket and after a beep said “call J”. Impatiently, he paced waiting for an answer. Finally someone picked up and he greeted the person on the other end cheerfully as he could. “Elijah, what up bro?”

A pause. 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m calling about, J. My card was declined. I mean, who even uses a card anymore, amiright?” Eddie chuckled anxiously.   

“What?! It was only… But it’s Coral Avalon.” He waited and listened. “Yeah, I realize I lost to Tyler Best too, but that’s hardly…”

He blinked and listened to the voice on the other end as he trailed off. 

“But I won twice already, and I did well in the Belmont,” he replied. Elijah said something that shocked him, or at least his voice betrayed shock. “Yeah I know… ”

Eddie didn’t realize it, but his voice was gradually rising as he became more frustrated. “You have to be fucking kidding me, J. PRIME has nothing to do with gaming, I don’t understand. Besides, I’m going to beat Mushi and this will…” Elijah interrupted him and he retorted immediately. “I’m not yelling!”

He was.

It’s clear this conversation was not going how he thought it was going to go. “God damnit, well now what am I supposed to do?!” A pause as Elijah replied. “I am calm!”

He wasn’t.

Eddie’s eyes closed in rage. 

Whatever Elijah said infuriated Eddie and he immediately threw his phone at the closest wall and shattered the screen, which left a hole in the drywall. “Fuck this day. Fuck. This. Day.  FUCK THIS DAY!”

“Eddie, enough is enough!”

Vivica stood behind him, arms crossed. If Eddie could see her face at the moment, he might have realized the breadth and depth of shit he was in before he opened his mouth. But he couldn’t. So he did. 

“Viv, I am not in the mood right now.”

“I. Don’t. Fucking. Care.” her voice was a warning shot, and not very far from his heart. “Stop what you’re doing right now and tell me what’s wrong, or you’re gone.”

Eddie breathed deeply, and internally counted to ten. He turned around and for a brief instance thought of telling her everything, even the bit about Grant and his goons, but decided that he didn’t want to push the situation any further. 

“I lost my gaming sponsorship. They told me ‘we don’t sponsor losers’.” He looked at the floor, clearly ashamed of himself and the situation that he had created. “I can’t pay you. I can’t pay for my hotel room. I can’t even afford to eat.”

She nodded and gritted her teeth a little as she took a deep breath. “That really does suck, but I don’t see how that’s MY problem. And I don’t see why you put a hole in MY wall because of it. One which, I might add, you can’t afford to repair.”

“No, I can’t,” Eddie replied. “Look, I’ll grab my stuff and work things out with the hotel. I’ll figure out how to pay you back and get you the money when I can.”

She shook her head. “No you won’t. You’re going to figure this out and keep training here until I say you’re done. Now, come with me.” She motioned for him to follow her and he listened, for once. As they walked down the hall, she let him in on a personal detail. “When I was close to your age I approached my dad, a successful lawyer, and told him I wanted to wrestle. He forbade me from this life. ‘It’s not a viable lifestyle’ he told me.”    

She opened the door to her office and pointed at a chair. “Sit.” She opened a filing cabinet and rifled through the contents. “He cut me off; I’ve been making my own way ever since,” she pulled his contract from a filing cabinet, and held it up for Eddie to see. “You signed this, you owe me. I’m going to make you a deal. You can have another two weeks to pay, but you will pay. You have to prove to me this is something you WANT, Eddie.”

He nodded sheepishly, penitent from his actions. “I will, Viv. I promise.”

“Talk is cheap. Prove it. Now get out of here.”

As he stood up to leave, she stopped him when he opened the door. 

“Oh, and Eddie, you owe me a patch job on that wall. I hope you’re better with plaster than you are with submissions.”

💻

Eddie stood at the counter of LBC Boutique looking out of place and definitely uncomfortable. A man named Mark walked up to EC from behind the counter and smiled, a glint of gold showed in the upper row of his teeth. 

“What can I do for you today?”

“I was hoping I could get some money for my laptop.” Eddie responded. 

“Sure, pawn or sale?” Mark offered. 

“Pawn.” EC opened up his backpack and pulled out his laptop. He stood with it in his hands for a minute thinking about what he was doing before he laid it down on the glass case.

Mark’s eyes bloomed eagerly. “Whew, high end. What kind of video card does it have?”

“RTX 4090.”

“Is that pretty expensive? I admit I am not an expert, I just know some of the cards are hard to get.”

“It’s the best there is,” Eddie replied wistfully.

Mark nodded and flipped open the computer to make sure everything worked. He whistled at the display. “You one of those professional gamers?”

Eddie thought about Viv and his promise. What she told him. He thought about how he had to face down the God Beast in less than two weeks. He thought about Coral Avalon. Tyler Best. Lindsay Troy sticking her neck out for him. About Dave and his run down gym. About how he is viewed in the locker room by the people around him. About Grant Hampton. About Junior. 

“No.” he replied softly.

Mark looked up from the screen briefly. “No? What do you do then?”

Eddie looked at Mark with optimism in his eyes. “Well, I’m trying to make it as a professional wrestler.” 

“Professional wrestler, eh? Like entrance music, live shows, all that stuff?”

“Yeah, I have a match next week actually. I’m hoping you can help me.”

Mark winked at Eddie. “I got your back, kid. You tell me what you need for this rig and it’ll be waiting for you when you get that win bonus.”

Eddie smiled. He had almost forgotten what that felt like. 

“Mark, this might be the best thing to happen to me all day.”