The Bankhead Boogeyman part 3

in Freewriters3 years ago (edited)

Running after him, she called his name. “‘D’!”

Her heels heralding her as she came up to walk beside him. “Can we at least talk?” She asked, completely cognizant of the fact he had figured out why she was there.

When he didn’t answer, she took it as an invitation to start, “Look, I’m sorry…I didn’t have a choice, ok? They threatened my friends, my family…” She lost her voice just thinking about it. ‘They’ certainly had made their point.

She was to make contact with him. Now that she had done that, she could deliver her message, get him back to Arizona and be free.

Their ‘mutual friend’ was to cease and desist all activities in Atlanta and leave the area at once. He was to report on his recent activities, but most importantly…

He was to return to competition for a period of no less than six months, after which he would be free to live life as he saw fit. Final offer.

He was in shape still. Beating the living hell out of the underbelly of Atlanta barehanded had at least done him that kindness. She was analyzing him, yet he only walked.

“I didn’t have a choice! Look, I know you think I betrayed you but it’s not like that! I swear!” She was pleading with him to believe her suddenly. “Are you even listening to me?!”

When still no answer came, she swung at him in anger and instantly found herself firmly against the wall. Face to face with the tangled mass of hair that was her ex-fiancé, she oddly found herself still drawn to him.

His beard was overgrown, scruffy and unkempt. His hair wild and uncombed yet she still saw the diamond that lurked below the surface.

If she was being completely honest with herself, she’d have taken him then and there. Though why was probably best left to a psychologist someday, should she survive this whole ordeal.

Looking into his eyes, she felt a whirlwind of emotions. Almost too many. Things had been so good between them, but wrestling got in the way! They had been so close…so close to having it all.

That was, until he failed to regain the World Heavyweight Championship. He couldn’t handle the failure, he shut down, disappeared for two weeks. In that time she had thrown herself at his rival in a moment of weakness only to be rejected. When he found out, it was over.

Now she just stared into his eyes, unsure of what she saw. The man she loved was in there, she could feel it. It wasn’t just her romanticizing what was essentially a showdown.

“I’m sorry.” She said, trying to break the tension. “I shouldn’t have tried to hit you.” Still neither of them moved.

“It’s fine. I probably should let you go then huh?” He chuckled as he released his grip and then started walking away once more.

“What was that?” She asked, gathering herself together as she ran to catch up for a second time.

All she got was a sideways glance.

“The laugh?” She was looking to see if he smiled. “Did the Bankhead Boogeyman actually laugh?”

“I hate that name, always have. I’m just doing what the cops and lawyers can’t. Nothing more. Police are too corruptible as an institution, I am indiscriminate in my Justice. I punish according to the crime, violent crimes require violent punishments, so on and so forth. It’s a simple system I admit…so far the results have been amazing…but I’m not someone to admire.” He was cold as a cucumber, it was impossible to tell if he was kidding even a little.

Petty crimes were down across the board, but when you counted the sheer number of crimes he himself were committing, violent crime as a whole was up.

Then again, on some level he was right. He was cleaning up an area known for violence, with more violence. It shouldn’t work, but thus far overall crime in the area was trending down. And the public only cared about one fact.

Once you took out the assaults committed by him, the numbers were way down.

Still trying to take in just how different he now was, her mouth betrays her as she blurts out, “What, happened to you?”

Slowly and quite matter of factly, he lists off his ‘reasons’ knowing deep down he had never felt right about how he handled himself. “I was so close! I lost out on my dream, I lost the chance to be a part of my son’s life again, and when I disappeared my fiancé threw herself at the man I lost to rather than keep looking. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

She stopped, cut by his words. He simply kept walking. She wasn’t sure how serious he was being, but she was sure of one thing. It was all true. He was the Bankhead Boogeyman, sure. But she was the monster.

She needed to accept that their relationship ended because of her insecurities. And she needed to do it right now. He was walking away.

“I’m sorry.” It came out low and muffled but she could tell by the change in his cadence that he heard her.

He glanced over his shoulder, stopping for a moment. “You already apologized for trying to hit me.”

“I know...” She said running up to him for a third time. “…I mean about Shane. You’re right. I should have kept looking for you. But you disappeared! You left me alone, no note, no phone call, not even a text. For two weeks you disappeared! For all I knew, you weren’t coming back!”

Not a moment passes as he jumps all over her words, “Yes, I made a mistake. Yet Shane visited after only two days. If we’d had been married and I went on tour, would it have taken you two days?” He was cold still, she’d done the impossible. She had hurt him.

“That’s not fair! And I really don’t think we should be discussing this in public.” Glossing over the fact that he had destroyed four men a mere alley over, only minutes ago.

“Why not? Most of our relationship played out in front of PWA and RSW cameras, why not finish it in the streets?” Gesturing around at the brick store fronts and small apartment buildings, now there was emotion. With such passion in his voice, what could she say?

“Because, I don’t want it to be over! Now can we go somewhere and talk?!” Her hand shot to her mouth, even she was surprised by what she’d exclaimed, but it worked.

He relented, nodding, “I know just the place.”

They walked silently for blocks. Since he’d agreed to sit and talk, she didn’t press the matter.

And so, they walked, eventually exiting Bankhead into neighbouring Washington Park.

Seeing him in what was essentially black sweats was off putting. In their entire relationship, she couldn’t recall once seeing him dressed like this. Was it all part of the act?

Some of the headlines she’d seen did read ‘homeless veteran’, or was it deeper? Could he be depressed?

Jarred from her psychoanalysis, they’d come to a brick building, he retrieves a lone pair of keys from his pockets he fiddles with the lock a moment before swinging the glass door open.

It wasn’t a fancy apartment complex, twelve units in total, six floors, no elevator. Heels were a poor choice in hindsight, she could feel the blisters forming on her feet.

Her feet ached and her head was swarmed with emotions but she was doing her best to take it all in. Flyers for community events blanketed the lobby. Most referenced ‘the garden’ as the meeting point or venue, the paint looked new.

Up they marched, stair after stair until finally there were no more stairs. Opening a battered brown metal door labeled “Authorized personnel only” it led to the roof and a stunning sight.

Wooden planters about ten feet long by four feet wide lined the roof, row on row. Simple paper lanterns hung from posts. Wooden lattice contained tomatoes, grapes and other vines. It was breathtaking.

“This is where I come to get away from everything. If I am allowed peace, this is where I find it.” He’d always behaved like a man carrying out penance for sins of a past better left behind him, but after tonight’s demonstration, she was now beginning to finally understand just how far that particular rabbit hole went.

“It’s…it’s wonderful. This must be the garden from the flyers? This must have taken you forever…” stopping a moment, she notices a white rose bush and smiles. He had brought her a white rose when they first began seeing each other.

When she questioned why a white rose, as they are often associated with friendship and not love, his answer was simple ‘we began as friends and our relationship should bloom from that.’

Noticing her lost in thought, he brings her back to the present. “You wanted to talk.”

Awkward and caught off guard, this wasn’t the start she was hoping for, “Right. I don’t know how to ask this, but they’re threatening my family ‘D’. My parents, my brother, his kids. All of them.” Fear had her now. An organization such as Justice had the type of resources to not only made due on such threats, but no one would ever know.

“Want do ‘they’ want?” He was cold again, especially when ‘they’ were involved.

“They want you to stop. Immediately. But more than that, they said you’re to report on what you’ve been doing here and return to competition for at least six months.” If nostalgia hadn’t grabbed her attention, she could have dressed it up a bit, but that was the offer.

“And if I refuse?” Knowing the answer wasn’t enough, he wanted to hear her say it.

“Me and pretty much everyone I know…” She’d accepted her own fate but when it came to her family…she couldn’t bare even the thought of it. Speaking the words, were painful.

He nodded slowly. He wasn’t ready to go back. In fact, he hadn’t even thought about it in a long time. Maybe that was why the time was right. But there was an oddity, something that didn’t fit.

“Why do I have to return to competition? It’s not enough that I just stop? That doesn’t make sense.” He had a point, of course he did. This was his freedom that was being negotiated here. Sure he’d loved wrestling at one point, but that was a lifetime ago.

“None of this makes sense!” Raising her voice as she reminded him of the lunacy of it all. “I just need to go back to them and be able to tell them that you’re going to do it. That’s enough for me for now. Once I’m out of this, you can do whatever you want. Just please don’t let them hurt my family!”

Desperation had her now as she slung herself into his chest gripping tightly. She heaved as she sobbed, she’d been so strong for so long now.

For moments that drifted into something more, they stood there. Her tears absorbing into the bloodstained black sweats he wore. Finally, she regained herself enough to speak.

“Well, I found this promotion operating out of Canada that’s having an Openweight Tournament. I think it’s just the sort of test you need to see where you are right now…”

And between sniffles Alyssa laid out the plan. He’d reach out to this Northern Pro Wrestling and enter their tournament as an unknown. A dark horse as it were. His experience would catch people off guard, but his lack of recent ring time would mean quick focused attacks would be the order of the day. There was one goal.

Win over the crowd.

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