The Tsunami Thrill Ride | Chapter Four – You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet
Things changed after Rod got his epic beat down from Keith. Life was different. Peggy and Louise patched up their differences and we moved back in with her. It was odd at first having some sort of normalcy in our lives but after what some would consider a brief adjustment period, things started to even out for us. My mom finally finished her masters and started teaching again, this time right in Dearborn and for once in our crazy life things started to look up. Uncle Jack would come by sporadically and we would hang. Mostly I would hang with him while he smoked pot. He would tell me all about these trips he was taking. At this point in his life Jack was consumed with culture. He would travel to Europe, Asia, India, you name it. He would just go with a backpack and a camera and live. Jack was the coolest. Anyway, like I said, life was good for a couple of years. It was good while it lasted anyway. Right around my eleventh birthday Peggy met Dave Kennedy. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Here goes Peggy meeting some other d-bag dude who beats on Johnny. Couldn’t be further from the truth. Dave was the principle at the school where Peggy was working. He was Michigan State educated and wore really tight khaki pants but except for those two egregious things he was a pretty great guy. He treated Peggy like the princess she was. The problem is, when you’re eleven, you don’t see any of that shit. All you see is another dude who is going to ruin your life. So, in typical Johnny fashion, I fucked with that man hard.
I give Dave a ton of fucking credit. He stood in there like I champ and I gave him some serious shit. I would do all my classics like letting air out of his tires, pissing on his front seat, stealing all the cash out of his wallet, but the dude never faded. He soldiered right on and to tell you the truth, we were all better for it. It was the summer of 2005 when they got married and it was a really nice wedding. We had a party in Jack’s backyard with pretty much everyone we knew at the time, which to a twelve year old is a lot of fucking people. Jack had just met Candy, who would later end up being Mrs. Jack, so he invited her to the party. I can’t say for sure, but I’d bet a ton of dough that she was high during the ceremony. Dave had a daughter from his first marriage that was a couple of years older than me. Her name was Hannah and I had the biggest crush on her. She was tall with really long legs and really bright blonde hair that she would wear in this really classy braid. She fucking hated me though and I don’t blame her. I was a terror back then. I mean I was an absolute monster and it all came to a head when I started Junior High School that fall. We had moved to Howell where Dave’s house was. Howell was a little too suburban for my taste and I stuck out like a sore thumb. I had grown pretty early on so I was much taller than anyone else in my grade and I was also much more of an asshole. I was the quintessential school bully. I would beat kids up for no reason at all and it seemed like I was getting detention or suspension every other week. The worst was when I punched my English teacher in the face during testing week.
Mr. Maurer was a total fucking prick. He was about six feet tall and about five feet wide, full of fat. He had about three chins and a really thick pair of glasses and sat on the front of his balding head. I gave him a lot of grief and looking back, I was kind of mean, but when you’re twelve years old the concept of “mean” is kind of lost on you. Anyway, back to me punching him in the face. It was during the standardized testing week in December of 2005. I skipped out on my homeroom to smoke a cigarette with some of the kids in my grade so when I showed up for my test, I reeked of smoke, which was a big no no in the suburbs of Michigan apparently. When I walked in and sat down Maurer made an off-handed comment to me. I can’t even remember what he said but I remember it being kind of mean so I responded by telling him to fuck himself. He yanked me so hard by the color that he ripped my Chili Peppers t-shirt nearly off my back. He ripped me into the hallway and shoved me against the wall. Now mind you, this was after about four months of me being the most terrorizing student you could possibly think of so shit was just boiling over at this point. He shoved me against the wall hard a second time and then told me he was gonna kick my ass if I ever spoke to him like that. I don’t remember what I said in response to that but it prompted him to tell me that if I felt like I was a man to go ahead and throw a punch. I think that was meant as some sort of scare tactic or something because it definitely threw him off guard when I cracked him in the nose. I remember him just staring at me after that, not even talking or anything, just wide eyes and a look of shock on his face. That was my last day at Howell Junior High unfortunately. My mom was getting pretty fed up with me too at that point. God bless Dave for being the saint that he was but I was a lot to handle. It was at this point that we started talking about me going to live with Keith.
It had been almost six years since Keith beat the living shit out of Rod. The judge wasn’t very hard on him because of what Rod had done to me. He was give six months of probation and some community service. Right around my tenth birthday though, he got a job in Venice Beach working for a Harley shop and he headed out west. He came to visit once a year but other than that, I didn’t see him or talk to him much. So you could imagine my surprise when he agreed that it might be better for everyone involved if I went out there with him for a bit. Looking back I think my mom was trying to punish me in some way but this was the best news I had ever gotten. Keith was my fucking idol so going to live with him was a fucking dream come true. So on my thirteen birthday I boarded a plane in Detroit to Los Angeles and that…that is when shit really got real…
To be continued…
The camera turns on and we see Johnny standing in front of it. He’s wearing his black hat, slightly turned to the side, a green military style jacket over a black tank top, and tight, ripped blue jeans. He takes a quick drag of a cigarette and then tries to focus on the camera.
“Look, Jimmy…can I call you Jimmy? I gotta be honest. I don’t really know anything about you. I mean, I know I’m supposed to do my research and learn and think but all that stuff is kind of hard for me to do, you know? I like to think of myself as more of a do-er than a think-er, capisce? This whole idea of a promo really kinda throws me off because, shit man, I like to just work with what I get in front of me. I like to get in that ring and have some fun. I like to just live in the moment. I haven’t planned shit in my life and now I’ve got to plan how I’m not only gonna beat you but also how I’m gonna talk about beating you? Shit just doesn’t make much sense to me. But I like you, Jimmy. I respect you, so I’m gonna try it out for a bit and see how to goes.”
He cracks his neck and then jogs in place for a second, all while having his Newport hang out of his mouth.
“So we actually faced each other once before, kind of any way. When I was teaming with that lazy piece of shit Caleb we faced you and Dmitri in a tag match. I don’t remember much about it to be truthful, but I remember we lost. I don’t remember if I took the pin or not…”
Johnny looks up as if he’s thinking as he takes a drag of his cigarette.
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. That loss really meant nothing to me in the way you probably think it did. Shit, if you ever saw me wrestle before then you would know I’ve grown somewhat accustomed to losing so it’s really not a big deal to me. Evie always says I should start caring more but I always tell her there’s no point. I get paid whether I get pinned or whatever so does it really matter in the long run? I don’t know…I don’t think so anyway. Shit…where was I?”
Johnny again looks away from the camera as he tries to remember the point he was trying to make.
“Right. Look as far as I’m concerned you and me have a clean slate; a fresh start. A blank canvas just waiting to get covered with all sorts of shit. You see Jimmy, you and me; we’re not so different. Sure I am I don’t have a crazy uncle who’s so detached from reality that he thinks he can just go join the mafia on some crazy escapade…the mafia doesn’t exist, James.”
He leans into the camera.
“Or does it?”
He steps back, taking another drag.
“But back on point. You and me, we’re cut from the same cloth. We both love what we do. Shit I don’t know much about you but I can tell you’re a decent dude. A dude I can respect. That’s why all this is so hard for me, Jimmy. It pains me to know that I have to beat you this Sunday. I mean, I don’t really have to. For the past shit I don’t know, like two years I’ve just come to work for a paycheck. I’ve come to work literally so I can get high for a few more days. And I know what you’re thinking…he has a sad fucking life…”
He takes one more drag and then tosses the cigarette.
“But that’s where you would be wrong, Jimmy. I have a great fucking life. I get to do whatever and who ever I want. Except Evie…I never get to do Evie…”
He rolls his eyes.
“The point is Jimmy, and believe me there is a point somewhere in this fucking rambling, that I do what I want, when I want. I don’t answer to anyone else’s calling than my own, you dig? And you know what? I think I’m ready to turn over a new leaf. I think I’m ready for something different. I’ve dealt with some of the same shit over and over and over again and you know what? I’m ready to change it up. So when I beat you on Sunday, Jimmy, trust me when I say this, it has fuck all to do with your title, the money, the glory, or the accomplishment, or whatever other lie you say you do it for. I’m gonna beat you because I’m fucking bored. I’m going to beat you because I can.”
He steps closer to the camera, grabbing it on both sides.
“So make sure you tell Uncle Pinky and his Joe Pesci-wannabe fat ass to shine up that Roulette belt nice and fresh because Johnny’s coming for it. I ain’t just coming for your belt, Jimmy boy, I’m coming for it all. I’m coming for your glory, your accomplishment, your pride, and your fucking winner’s paycheck. I’m coming for your whole fucking life…except that whole fake mafia thing. You can keep that…”
Johnny slams the power button on the camera and the camera cuts to white fuzz.
END FEED
