Post by SANGRE on Sept 3, 2022 16:49:37 GMT
We are welcomed by a sign that reads “Growing old is not growing up - Lone Palm Assisted Living”. MEZA and Coach Lynx are sitting in the lobby while MEZA's COVID-19 test produces a negative result. MEZA is bent over staring at the ground, almost catatonically. Coach Lynx gingerly rests his hand on his student’s shoulder.
The news that MEZA would appear in his first main event of a major wrestling company was bittersweet for him. His career is propelling at light speed, but he is unable to share the experience with the person that means most to him: his father. After MEZA’s missile launch into mainstream wrestling, his father suffered a stroke, leaving him mute and incapable of comprehension. MEZA is visiting him to share his accomplishment despite knowing there will be no fanfare.
Lynx: Ay, mijo... I just want to say how proud I am of you. This is bittersweet visit but know that...you have Coach Lynx in this world.
MEZA’s machismo is the only mechanism preventing him from being compromised with emotion. He responds to Lynx only by nodding his head while still staring at the ground.
Lynx: All this goings on, mijo, I worry about [pointing to MEZA’s head] your mind. You are celebrity ahora. Your papa. Pendejo Marshall... it’s mucho life. You need not listen to other peoples, especially that bully--
Receptionist: --Mr. Meza?
Lynx hangs back as MEZA hops out of his chair to the front desk. A social worker escorts him to the recreational area of the facility. MEZA asks if dad is able to travel long distance to see his show, but the social worker recommends against it. She explains that this is the beginning of a very long, very sad journey.
Ed, MEZA’s father, is parked next to the window. Summer monsoons are rolling in and the clouds are slowly blotting out the sun. His undivided attention is fixed into the distance.
MEZA pulls a chair next to Ed. He tries to lean into his father’s focus—maybe he’ll notice.
MEZA: Hey...Dad? Hey...it’s me, AC.
MEZA waits for some response but Ed is frozen like a statue.
MEZA: I hope you can hear me, Dad. I....really miss you.
Nothingness.
MEZA: Hey—wait a second. Check this out. I bought it for you when I was in Chicago—you always [pulls out a miniature replica Wrigley Field] said you wanted to go here so I brought it to you.
MEZA laughs at his own joke and smiles. He leans over his dad and drops the gift into the palm of his hand.
MEZA: You know, dad... [He breaks for a second.] I don’t know if you’ve been watching at all. They announced that I’m going to... [MEZA drops his head in attempt to regain himself.]... I’m going to be in a main event, Pops.
A boyhood dream realized with an audience of none. All of the world is cheering for MEZA, yet all he yearns for is the affirmation of a father who was once full of love, life, and expression.
MEZA: And... you are the reason I made it there. I’m doing everything you taught me in life, but in wrestling. And it reminded me of how far we came. Do you remember that absolute shithole over on Los Gatos road? It was two years before we scrounged enough cash to get outta there...
MEZA chuckles briefly before the smile disappears.
MEZA: We didn’t get to choose that life, Dad. There are people out there who tell me that wrestling in a bingo hall was for “hotdogs and handshakes”. But you know, most importantly, that I did it for you. I did it to keep a roof over us while you were sick... And now that we are out of there, I do it for me. I just hope you’d be proud. I stand up for what’s right and I have the strength to protect others from bullies—people like this guy, Luke Marshall. He’s a cruel man stitched with arrogance and entitlement. A man who treats people like his kind is superior to others... But he’s never met our kind, Dad. We don’t surrender. We don’t give up. Right, Pops?
Rain begins to drip on the window.
MEZA: ...Thank you for teaching me to be a good man. I’m going to win this one for you...For us.
With nothing more to say, MEZA gingerly hugs Ed as his arms hang by the side.
We slowly back away from the moment.
The news that MEZA would appear in his first main event of a major wrestling company was bittersweet for him. His career is propelling at light speed, but he is unable to share the experience with the person that means most to him: his father. After MEZA’s missile launch into mainstream wrestling, his father suffered a stroke, leaving him mute and incapable of comprehension. MEZA is visiting him to share his accomplishment despite knowing there will be no fanfare.
Lynx: Ay, mijo... I just want to say how proud I am of you. This is bittersweet visit but know that...you have Coach Lynx in this world.
MEZA’s machismo is the only mechanism preventing him from being compromised with emotion. He responds to Lynx only by nodding his head while still staring at the ground.
Lynx: All this goings on, mijo, I worry about [pointing to MEZA’s head] your mind. You are celebrity ahora. Your papa. Pendejo Marshall... it’s mucho life. You need not listen to other peoples, especially that bully--
Receptionist: --Mr. Meza?
Lynx hangs back as MEZA hops out of his chair to the front desk. A social worker escorts him to the recreational area of the facility. MEZA asks if dad is able to travel long distance to see his show, but the social worker recommends against it. She explains that this is the beginning of a very long, very sad journey.
Ed, MEZA’s father, is parked next to the window. Summer monsoons are rolling in and the clouds are slowly blotting out the sun. His undivided attention is fixed into the distance.
MEZA pulls a chair next to Ed. He tries to lean into his father’s focus—maybe he’ll notice.
MEZA: Hey...Dad? Hey...it’s me, AC.
MEZA waits for some response but Ed is frozen like a statue.
MEZA: I hope you can hear me, Dad. I....really miss you.
Nothingness.
MEZA: Hey—wait a second. Check this out. I bought it for you when I was in Chicago—you always [pulls out a miniature replica Wrigley Field] said you wanted to go here so I brought it to you.
MEZA laughs at his own joke and smiles. He leans over his dad and drops the gift into the palm of his hand.
MEZA: You know, dad... [He breaks for a second.] I don’t know if you’ve been watching at all. They announced that I’m going to... [MEZA drops his head in attempt to regain himself.]... I’m going to be in a main event, Pops.
A boyhood dream realized with an audience of none. All of the world is cheering for MEZA, yet all he yearns for is the affirmation of a father who was once full of love, life, and expression.
MEZA: And... you are the reason I made it there. I’m doing everything you taught me in life, but in wrestling. And it reminded me of how far we came. Do you remember that absolute shithole over on Los Gatos road? It was two years before we scrounged enough cash to get outta there...
MEZA chuckles briefly before the smile disappears.
MEZA: We didn’t get to choose that life, Dad. There are people out there who tell me that wrestling in a bingo hall was for “hotdogs and handshakes”. But you know, most importantly, that I did it for you. I did it to keep a roof over us while you were sick... And now that we are out of there, I do it for me. I just hope you’d be proud. I stand up for what’s right and I have the strength to protect others from bullies—people like this guy, Luke Marshall. He’s a cruel man stitched with arrogance and entitlement. A man who treats people like his kind is superior to others... But he’s never met our kind, Dad. We don’t surrender. We don’t give up. Right, Pops?
Rain begins to drip on the window.
MEZA: ...Thank you for teaching me to be a good man. I’m going to win this one for you...For us.
With nothing more to say, MEZA gingerly hugs Ed as his arms hang by the side.
We slowly back away from the moment.