As tired as I was from the night before, I got up early Saturday for a quick breakfast and my regular morning jog. I tried to run at least four or five times a week. Wally called it a discipline, but I didn’t think of it that way. Jogging was such a part of my life that any time I didn’t run, I felt an emptiness inside.
After my jog, I drove to the Factory to continue my work-out. My father was putting on a show that evening, so some of the wrestlers were already there, going over their matches. Oona Sifuentes, whose stage name was Oona the Enchantress, and Janiya Jenkins, who went by Sparkle, were inside the main ring, practicing moves and counter moves. Steve Dalton and King Jordan Crabtree were discussing possible finishes, and Travis McKeon was sitting with Kendric Scott and Xavion Strange. They were watching a video of Kendric and Xavion’s last match, and Travis was offering them pointers on how to sell their punches better. The rest of the roster would come in throughout the day. My father wouldn’t get to the Factory until around four.
I greeted everyone, then went to the fitness room to begin my drills. I started on the dip station to work my upper body. Next, on the Hammer Strength machine. Halfway through my sets, my phone chimed a text alert. When I saw who the message was from, I flinched in surprise.
Awesome pics of you wearing your pop’s mask to your prom. I’m gonna be in town tomorrow. Let’s get together for lunch.
I hadn’t heard from TJ Masters in over a year. And the last time I saw him in person, he was lying unconscious in a Mexican hospital, hooked up to all kinds of machines.
TJ wanted to go to Nuevo Laredo to buy steroids, but he needed a translator. He figured that since I’m Latino, I spoke Spanish fluently. I told him I only knew a few words and phrases. He said that was good enough for him, and he talked me into driving with him to Mexico to help him get what he wanted. While we were there, a bunch of thugs attacked and robbed us in an alley. I managed to survive the assault with a few bumps and bruises, but TJ was so badly beaten, he wasn’t able to wrestle for months.
I’d been aware that the ACW was bringing Monday Night Mayhem to San Antonio, and I assumed he was going to be on the show, but I didn’t think he’d want to see me. He must’ve known that my family still hadn’t forgiven him for taking me to Mexico without their permission. What especially angered my father was that he’d recommended TJ for a job with the ACW and had helped him get adjusted after the company hired him. He saw TJ’s negative influence on me as a betrayal of that trust.
Wally had never met TJ, but I’d told her stories about him. Like the time we were pulled over and I was almost arrested, after TJ, who was drunk, got mouthy with the police officer and tried to pick a fight with him. And about the time he got us kicked out of the Alamodome during an MMA event, when he shoved one of the fighters and challenged him to a match. Wally referred to him as a “nogoodnik,” and she was right. TJ was wild and reckless and had huge problems with authority.
But until the incident in Mexico, I’d never had as much fun as I did when I hung out with him. TJ used to let me drive his car, even though I only had a learner’s permit. He went to my football games, something my father never did. He took me to the UFC fights and bought me dinner. He invited me to work out with him in the fitness center at his apartment complex, and he taught me which vitamins and supplements to take to boost my strength and energy.
I read his message again.
Awesome pics of you wearing your pop’s mask to your prom.
The only way he could’ve seen my photos was if he followed me on social media, which made me feel flattered, knowing I was still on his radar.
I’m gonna be in town tomorrow. Let’s get together for lunch.
Although I was excited to hear from TJ, I wasn’t sure I wanted him back in my life. I knew my parents would be upset with me if they found out I’d been in contact with him.
Then I thought, what can be the harm in seeing him for a couple of hours? It wasn’t as if I was going to start hanging out with him again. TJ didn’t live in San Antonio anymore. Tuesday morning, he’d either catch a flight home, wherever that was, or travel to the next city, if he was booked to wrestle at a “house show,” an untelevised event.
The problem with getting together with him on Sunday afternoon was that my parents would expect me to go to church with them and then out to eat. Church was non-negotiable, but I could skip lunch if I told them I’d made plans with Wally.
If I decided to meet with TJ, it’d have to be at a place where neither my parents nor Wally were likely to show up. After mulling it over, I wrote back.
It’s good to hear from you, TJ. Let’s have lunch at the Taco Bell near my school at 1.
He answered right away.
I didn’t know you had a taste for fine dining. OK, Taco Hell it is. See you there.
TJ’s texts made me lose interest in exercising, so I called it quits for the day and drove home.
When I walked in the house, I found Frank Collins from American Championship Wrestling sitting in the living room, talking to my father. He’d been in town, making preparations for Monday Night Mayhem.
“Good gracious!” he exclaimed. “Jesse, is that you?” He rose from the couch and shook my hand. “I hardly recognized you.”
“It’s been a while since you’ve seen him,” my father said.
Mr. Collins squeezed my biceps. “Man, what do they feed you around here? Iron and steel?”
“I try to stay in shape,” I said modestly.
“I can tell. Are you planning to follow in your old man’s footsteps and become a wrestler, too?”
Before I could answer, my father jumped in. “Maybe after he finishes college, Frank. But not anytime soon.”
I think Mr. Collins caught on that he’d asked a touchy question because he changed the subject. “Guess what, Jesse? I just talked Mark into appearing on our show Monday night.”
“Really? That’s great,” I said, but I wasn’t surprised. With Monday Night Mayhem coming to town, it seemed only natural for Mr. Collins to want to involve my father in it. “Who are you going to wrestle, Dad?”
“Nobody. I’m a little too rusty for that. I’m just doing a spot with Gunnar Brooks. Frank’s idea is for me to . . . well, I won’t spoil it for you. Let’s just say that Gunnar’s going to wish he’d never gotten in the ring with the Angel of Death.”
“Have you told Mom?” I asked, thinking about the fights they used to have over his career.
“Not yet, but she won’t mind. It’s just a one-shot deal. As a matter of fact, Frank wants to use her in our segment, somehow.”
Whatever they had planned, I knew the fans would go bat crazy over it. The ACW still received tons of emails, asking when my father was going to wrestle again.
“Mr. Collins?” I said. “Would it be possible to get tickets to the show for my girlfriend and me?”
I had wanted to take Wally to Monday Night Mayhem, but I waited too long to buy tickets, and the event was officially sold out.
“Of course. I have a handful of promo passes left. I’ll be glad to give you a couple of them. It’s the least I can do, considering that Mark’s appearing on our show and he’s letting us use his building.”
“I’m opening the Factory tomorrow,” my father said. “That way, the ACW boys and gals can work out in private, instead of having to use their hotels’ fitness rooms.”
Whenever my father used to be out on the road, he’d exercise at his hotel or at a local gym. But if he was in town, he always used the facilities at the Ox Mulligan Pro Wrestling Factory.
“I’ll text everyone to let them know about your offer, Mark,” Mr. Collins said. “I’ll also write to Shirley and Connie and tell them to bring your outfit and makeup kit.”
Shirley Washington sewed the wrestlers’ ring gear and was responsible for storing them. Connie Herrera headed the makeup department.
“Tomorrow after church, I’m going to need for you to go to the Factory with me to help out,” my father told me. “We’ll pick up burgers on the way.”
I’d already set the time to meet with TJ at one o’clock, and I didn’t want to change it. “Sorry, Dad, but Wally and I are getting together for lunch,” I said.
“That’s fine. When you’re done, bring her to the Factory. I know she’ll love meeting the wrestlers.”
“I . . . I can’t. I mean, Wally’s going with her mom to the hospital to visit a sick aunt as soon as we finish eating.”
“Ah, that’s too bad. Well, on Monday, I’ll invite her backstage and introduce her to everyone.”
When he said that, I realized I couldn’t take Wally to Monday Night Mayhem. If I did, my father would likely mention the Factory to her, saying how he was sorry that she couldn’t watch the wrestlers prepare for their matches. And he’d want to know how her sick aunt was doing. I didn’t want to ask Wally to cover for me because of her attitude toward TJ.
It occurred to me that the problem I used to have when I hung out with TJ Masters was the same one I was dealing with now—having to lie to my family about him.