Post by PIC on Jun 16, 2023 22:03:50 GMT -5
“Dad! Your phone is ringing!”
Sarah Abrams picks the vibrating phone off the kitchen island of her father’s upper east side of New York City apartment. “513? What area code is that?”
He shouts from down the hall. “It’s Cincinnati. Don’t answer. I’ll call back.”
A few moments later, PIC emerges wearing an orange tank top and black shorts. He dries his hair with a white towel as he takes his phone from her hands.
“Who’s in Cincinnati?” she asks.
“Landry.”
“Another TRIAD hopeful?” Her tone borders on indifference with a hint of disdain. PIC chooses to ignore it.
“The guy seemed real gung-ho to enlist, but we haven’t been able to reach him since his initial application. I guess he finally decided to return my phone call.”
“And you didn’t think you should answer it?”
“Nah. I’ll get to it later. I’ve gotta get ready to go.”
Sarah doesn’t respond. A few seconds of silence are followed up by a sigh. Her tell that she’s got something on her mind.
“Well, go ahead.”
“I just don’t understand any of this. First you’re off on some mission to get yourself killed in the Himalayas, then a few days later you turn up in Florida with Tommy and your old boss. I was relieved at first, but now there’s all this talk of treasure and the TRIAD and you’re about to set sail for the Bermuda Triangle? Like seriously dad, what’s wrong with you?”
If he was honest with himself, he’d probably be asking himself the same question. Why was he so hell bent on doing something that has a high probability of certain death? Sure, you could chalk it up to his recent injury and forced retirement. But what is there for him to prove? He came back to wrestling after a 14 year absence and won the top belt in OCW not once, but twice. 2022 was truly a year that none could match. Some would even call it Hall of Fame worthy. Shouldn’t that level of success be enough for him to ride off into the sunset and enjoy life?
“Sarah, I don’t have any answers for you. Something inside just won’t let me quit until I see this thing through. I mean, this TRIAD, if it’s as powerful as they say, it could grant me my health again. If I could just harness its powers, I think I could wrestle again.”
“But what’s the point, dad? Haven’t you done everything there is to do?”
“Maybe,” he says. “But I didn’t get to go out on my own terms. I had it taken from me by ODJ and now he’s hiding somewhere getting a big laugh at my expense. I know time is short and that I don’t have much longer in this business, but I want to go out my way.”
PIC’s phone vibrates in his hand. He looks down at it and then back at Sarah.
“Willie’s downstairs and ready to go. We’ll have to finish this another time.”
Sarah looks at the floor, barely acknowledging him. PIC slips the phone into his pocket and walks over, putting his arm around her shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Sarah. I really am. I wish I wasn’t like this sometimes.”
Tears begin to well up in her eyes as she looks away. “I just don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t.”
He squeezes her tight before letting go and heading to the door to slip on his shoes. She wipes the tears from her eyes.
“Have you talked to your mother lately?” he asks.
“I don't have anything to say to that woman.”
The revelation that Jessica Abrams, Sarah’s mother, had faked her own death 11 years ago had not gone over very well with her daughter. PIC doesn’t have time to start unpacking all of that.
“Well, think about it. You’ve already missed all this time with her. Holding a grudge doesn’t help anyone.”
She grabs a tissue from the table and blows her nose. “Isn’t Willie waiting?”
PIC doesn’t push. He gives Sarah his love as he exits the door. A few moments later, he walks out of the front door of his high rise building to see Willie Peterson stuffing his face with a hot dog from a nearby cart.
“You ready?”
Willie nearly swallows the dog whole. He chases it with a can of Mountain Dew before throwing both the wrapper and can away in the trash can next to him.
“Sure thing, boss. Where are we headed?”
“Last fall, I had a sit down with Thaddeus Duke when he was running the show in OCW about reinstating Marcus. Easton kidnapped Frankie while all that was going on and the two of us never really got to sit down and air out our grievances.”
Willie looks confused. “So, you’re going to meet up with Thad?” he asks.
“That’s the plan. Only this time, the rolls are reversed. I’ve got something he wants, a ticket to the opportunity of a lifetime. It’s time to settle our differences once and for all.”
“Haha. How the turn tables…”
PIC doesn’t want to, but that Michael Scott reference gets him every time.
“Come on, Willie. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”
Sarah Abrams picks the vibrating phone off the kitchen island of her father’s upper east side of New York City apartment. “513? What area code is that?”
He shouts from down the hall. “It’s Cincinnati. Don’t answer. I’ll call back.”
A few moments later, PIC emerges wearing an orange tank top and black shorts. He dries his hair with a white towel as he takes his phone from her hands.
“Who’s in Cincinnati?” she asks.
“Landry.”
“Another TRIAD hopeful?” Her tone borders on indifference with a hint of disdain. PIC chooses to ignore it.
“The guy seemed real gung-ho to enlist, but we haven’t been able to reach him since his initial application. I guess he finally decided to return my phone call.”
“And you didn’t think you should answer it?”
“Nah. I’ll get to it later. I’ve gotta get ready to go.”
Sarah doesn’t respond. A few seconds of silence are followed up by a sigh. Her tell that she’s got something on her mind.
“Well, go ahead.”
“I just don’t understand any of this. First you’re off on some mission to get yourself killed in the Himalayas, then a few days later you turn up in Florida with Tommy and your old boss. I was relieved at first, but now there’s all this talk of treasure and the TRIAD and you’re about to set sail for the Bermuda Triangle? Like seriously dad, what’s wrong with you?”
If he was honest with himself, he’d probably be asking himself the same question. Why was he so hell bent on doing something that has a high probability of certain death? Sure, you could chalk it up to his recent injury and forced retirement. But what is there for him to prove? He came back to wrestling after a 14 year absence and won the top belt in OCW not once, but twice. 2022 was truly a year that none could match. Some would even call it Hall of Fame worthy. Shouldn’t that level of success be enough for him to ride off into the sunset and enjoy life?
“Sarah, I don’t have any answers for you. Something inside just won’t let me quit until I see this thing through. I mean, this TRIAD, if it’s as powerful as they say, it could grant me my health again. If I could just harness its powers, I think I could wrestle again.”
“But what’s the point, dad? Haven’t you done everything there is to do?”
“Maybe,” he says. “But I didn’t get to go out on my own terms. I had it taken from me by ODJ and now he’s hiding somewhere getting a big laugh at my expense. I know time is short and that I don’t have much longer in this business, but I want to go out my way.”
PIC’s phone vibrates in his hand. He looks down at it and then back at Sarah.
“Willie’s downstairs and ready to go. We’ll have to finish this another time.”
Sarah looks at the floor, barely acknowledging him. PIC slips the phone into his pocket and walks over, putting his arm around her shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Sarah. I really am. I wish I wasn’t like this sometimes.”
Tears begin to well up in her eyes as she looks away. “I just don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t.”
He squeezes her tight before letting go and heading to the door to slip on his shoes. She wipes the tears from her eyes.
“Have you talked to your mother lately?” he asks.
“I don't have anything to say to that woman.”
The revelation that Jessica Abrams, Sarah’s mother, had faked her own death 11 years ago had not gone over very well with her daughter. PIC doesn’t have time to start unpacking all of that.
“Well, think about it. You’ve already missed all this time with her. Holding a grudge doesn’t help anyone.”
She grabs a tissue from the table and blows her nose. “Isn’t Willie waiting?”
PIC doesn’t push. He gives Sarah his love as he exits the door. A few moments later, he walks out of the front door of his high rise building to see Willie Peterson stuffing his face with a hot dog from a nearby cart.
“You ready?”
Willie nearly swallows the dog whole. He chases it with a can of Mountain Dew before throwing both the wrapper and can away in the trash can next to him.
“Sure thing, boss. Where are we headed?”
“Last fall, I had a sit down with Thaddeus Duke when he was running the show in OCW about reinstating Marcus. Easton kidnapped Frankie while all that was going on and the two of us never really got to sit down and air out our grievances.”
Willie looks confused. “So, you’re going to meet up with Thad?” he asks.
“That’s the plan. Only this time, the rolls are reversed. I’ve got something he wants, a ticket to the opportunity of a lifetime. It’s time to settle our differences once and for all.”
“Haha. How the turn tables…”
PIC doesn’t want to, but that Michael Scott reference gets him every time.
“Come on, Willie. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”