PIATA BOOKS ARTE PBLICO PRESS HOUSTON, TEXAS

Body Slammed! is made possible through a grant from the City of Houston through the Houston Arts Alliance. Piata Books are full of surprises! Arte Pblico Press University of Houston 4902 Gulf Fwy, Bldg 19, Rm 100 Houston, Texas 77204-2004 Cover design by Mora Des!gn Photo by Jack Davidson Villareal, Ray Body Slammed! / by Ray Villareal p. cm. Sequel to: My Father, the Angel of Death. Summary: Feeling not as big, tough or athletic as his father, a professional wrestler, high-schooler Jesse becomes friends with a brash young wrestler who offers to help Jesse bulk up. ISBN 978-1-55885-749-0 (alk. paper) [1. WrestlingFiction. 2. Fathers and sonsFiction. 3. ChoiceFiction. 4. High schoolsFiction. 5. SchoolsFiction. 6. Mexican AmericansFiction. 7. San Antonio (Tex.)Fiction.] I. Title. PZ7.V718Bo 2012 [Fic]dc23 2012003181 CIP The paper used in this publication meets the requirements of the American National Standard for Information SciencesPermanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48-1984. 2012 by Ray Villareal Printed in the United States of America May 2011June 2011 United Graphics, Inc., Mattoon, IL 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

For my son, Mateo, whose ideas and encouragement helped me write this story

The poem, Tragedia de Julia Hernndez, was written by my father, the late Fermin Villareal, and is based on true events.

CHAPTER ONE
rastus Deaf Smith High School hadnt had a winning football team in thirty-six years. It usually finished its seasons with a zero and ten, a one and nine, or in the best cases, a three and seven record. Even with numerous coaching changes, the school had remained at the bottom of the list in their district. Until this year. Duane Blaylock, a former defensive tackle with the Cleveland Browns, had been brought in as the new head coach. Under his leadership, the Deaf Smith Sidewinders, with a record of four and three, had already won more games in two months than they had in their previous five years. Not only did the Sidewinders expect to finish this season with a winning record, there was even talk in the locker room of a possible district championship. If the Sidewinders were to win district, Jesse Baron knew it wouldnt happen because of him. Although he was listed on the roster as a center, Coach Blaylock seldom put him in the games. Instead, Jesse spent most Friday nights on the sidelines, watching his teammates play. He could accept that he was the second-string center, and that Sam Morales was a better player, but Jesse couldnt see anything wrong with being allowed to play every once

Ray Villareal

in a while. How else was he going to improve as a center unless he got out on the field? You just dont have the size or strength, Baron, Coach Blaylock had told him bluntly. If you were built more like your father, Id have no problem putting you in. Dang, son, Id build the whole Sidewinders team around you. That was a cheap shot. There was no way Jesse could physically measure up to his father, and Coach Blaylock knew it. Joining the team had been Jesses fathers idea. He had played football in high school and in college and had even been drafted by the Dallas Cowboys, although, due to injuries, he never played for them. He thought Jesse would enjoy playing football, too. And he might have, if he had something more to do than use his rear end to keep the bench warm. On the third Friday night in October, late in the fourth quarter, the Deaf Smith Sidewinders were headed toward their fifth win, leading the Houston Ravens, 41 to 10. The drumline pumped up the crowd with a rousing cadence. The crowd, in turn, jangled tambourines to simulate the sounds of rattlesnakes as the cheerleaders danced along. Jesse wanted desperately to get in the game. After the Ravens kicked a wobbly, thirty-four yard punt, and the Sidewinders took over on offense, he pleaded with Coach Blaylock for the millionth time. What do you say, Coach? Can I play? Please? Coach Blaylock glanced up at the scoreboard, then at the play clock. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. Yeah, go ahead. Thanks, Coach. Jesse slipped on his helmet and gestured an okay sign to his grandparents, who were

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sitting in the stands. He wished his father was up there with them, but his job didnt allow him a lot of free time. Jesse ran out on the field and switched places with Sam Morales. Riley King, the quarterback, called the play, and the Sidewinders broke huddle. Jesse squatted on the line of scrimmage with the ball between his feet and waited anxiously for Rileys snap count. Because hed had little practice time, and even less playing time, he became confused with Rileys signals. At the first hut, he tried to hand him the ball. Riley jumped back but didnt take it. The referee blew his whistle, threw a yellow flag and penalized the Sidewinders five yards for a false start. I said on three, Baron! Riley spat out. Back in the huddle, Riley called the next play. This time on two. He turned to Jesse and sarcastically added, Think you can remember that, Baron? Jesse didnt answer him, the jerk. They returned to the line of scrimmage, this time in shotgun formation. At the second hut, Jesse hiked the ball to Riley. But somehow, the ball slipped out of his hands, and he sent it sailing high above Rileys head. In a panic, Riley scrambled after the ball and managed to scoop it up, but he was sacked for a fourteen-yard loss. The drumline stopped playing. The tambourines stopped rattling, and a smattering of boos could be heard from the Sidewinders side of the field. Riley jumped to his feet and said something Jesse couldnt make out, but he was sure it wasnt anything hed want to repeat in church. Coach Blaylock stomped his foot and exploded with a few colorful words of his own. Then he formed a T with his hands to call a time out.

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Riley hurried up to him. It wasnt my fault, Coach. Baron bungled the snap. Jesse tried hiding behind Wendell Cooley, a linebacker, who was standing on the sidelines, to avoid Coachs icy stare. It didnt work. Coach Blaylock reached around Wendell, grabbed Jesse by his face mask and thumped him several times on the helmet with his whistle, causing Jesses ears to ring. Whats your problem, Baron? My three-year-old daughter can snap a ball better than that! Jesse turned his eyes away. Sorry, Coach. The ball just got away from me. Well, sorry dont win games, Baron. Good plays do! Coach Blaylock let go of Jesses face mask when he realized that the people in the stands were watching him. It was now second and twenty-nine. Back on the line of scrimmage, Jesse snapped the ball to Riley without messing it up. Immediately, a lineman the size of a rhino charged forward and knocked Jesse over like a bowling pin. Riley pitched the ball to Goose Guzmn, who picked up eight yards. On the next play, the Sidewinders gained five more yards, but they were still far short of a first down. Bucky Henderson kicked a forty-four yard punt, and the Ravens took over on offense. After a quick three and out, the Sidewinders got the ball again. This time, Coach Blaylock put Sam Morales back in the game, leaving Jesse stranded where he had spent most of the eveningthe bench. Minutes later the horn sounded, signaling the end of the game. The tambourines rattled once again, and the fans clapped and cheered. The Sidewinders players whooped ecstatically over their win. Jesse should have

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been as excited as they were, but after his performance, or lack of it, he couldnt muster the same enthusiasm. As he made his way to the locker room, his grandparents stood and clapped for him. Jesse returned a dispirited wave. He was glad his father wasnt up there to witness his fiasco. But then, he hadnt attended any of Jesses games, this year or last, when Jesse played on the JV team. Behind Jesses grandparents, Sara Young blew a kiss in his direction. Jesse wished it was for him, but unfortunately, she was aiming at Riley King. Jesse met Sara in middle school when he stopped some thugs from mugging her. It wasnt anything dramatic. He merely stalled those guys until a teacher showed up. One of the thugs, a kid named Chester Leonard, was a student at Jesses school, but he didnt act so tough, now that he didnt have those other Neanderthals to hang out with. After that, Sara and Jesse became close friends, but for whatever reason, things didnt work out between them. At the start of the school year, she hooked up with Riley King, and from what Jesse could tell, they had become much more than close friends. Apparently, Sara had a preference for smug, arrogant jerks. The locker room was hot and humid; it reeked of mildew, body odor and cheap cologne. Coach Blaylock joined the players in the locker room to congratulate them on their win. We did good out there, men. But we need to continue to give a hundred and ten percent each time we go out on the field. You hear what Im saying? Jesse didnt know how good Coachs math was, but if a hundred percent is the maximum, how could anyone give more than the maximumten percent more?

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Weve gotta raise our game. Weve gotta hunker down. If were gonna be a playoff team, weve all gotta take our game to the next level, Coach Blaylock went on, dishing out his usual clichs. Of course, his speech wouldnt be complete without his all-time favorite line: Remember, men, theres no I in TEAM. That was the one he used when Jesse complained about not being given more playing time. After the meeting, Jesse stripped off his uniform and was about to step into the showers when the smack of a wet towel stung his butt. Nice going out there, slick, Riley said, twirling the towel in his hand. Mitch Maloof stood next to him. Who did you think you were playing for out there, the Sidewinders or the Ravens? We won, didnt we? Jesse said, wishing he had a stronger comeback. Riley sneered at him. Yeah, and well continue to win, as long as we keep you and the ball as far apart as possible. Why are you taking a shower anyway, Baron? Mitch asked. The showers are for players who actually worked up a sweat. Careful, Mitch, Riley said, pretending to hold him back. Baron might tell his old man to come beat us up. Nah. His old man only knows how to fake fight. He wouldnt know what to do if he had to throw real punches. The two of them walked off, laughing. Jesse would have loved to ram his fists down their throats, but that wasnt going to happen. First of all, they were both bigger than he was. Second, he wasnt going get himself suspended over those morons. And third, Jesse hated to admit it, but he probably deserved what he got. He was a lousy football player, and everyone knew it. He

BODY SLAMMED!

couldnt wait for the season to be over so he could put this crummy year behind him. He had no intention of signing up to play again, not that anyone would care. While he got dressed he studied his reflection in the mirror. Coach Blaylock was probably right. He wasnt strong enough to be the starting center. Nor did he have the size or quickness to play any other position. Jesse stood five-ten and weighed two hundred twelve pounds, so he wasnt exactly a shrimp. Still, he thought he looked puny next to some of the gorillas he played against. But for Coach Blaylock to compare him to his father? That wasnt fair. How could he possibly be anything like the six-foot, seven-inch, three hundred-twenty pound, skeleton-face monster from the lower regions of the Netherworld . . . his father, the Angel of Death?

CHAPTER TWO
or years, Jesses father worked as a professional wrestler called the Angel of Death. He entered the ring dressed in a black, sleeveless shirt, black tights and black boots. He wore a black, hooded cloak and he carried a scythe. His long, black hair hung past his shoulders, and he painted his face like a skeleton. In short, his in-ring persona was that of the Death Figure or the Grim Reaper. Like most top wrestlers on American Championship Wrestling, the Angel of Death was on the road, sometimes over three hundred days out of the year. Jesse missed spending time with his father and wished he could be home more often. Then one night, during a match against Prince Romulus, the Angel of Death suffered a tragic accident when he leaped off the top turnbuckle, and his foot slipped on the vinyl covering. He severely fractured his ankle, and his injury almost ended his career. Strangely, the accident appeared to be the answer to Jesses wish. His father was home all the time after that. What Jesse didnt realize was that his wish would also lead to his parents divorce. He hadnt eaten supper, so he was starving by the time he got back to school after the game. On the bus, Wendell Cooley, Bucky Henderson and Goose Guzmn talked

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about eating at Chilis, which was fine with him. As hungry as Jesse was, he would have been happy if the guys had suggested picking up hot dogs at the truck stop. None of them had a car, so they walked the three-anda-half blocks to Chilis. Jesses grandmother had been teaching him how to drive, but all he had was a learners permit. The permit allowed him to drive, only if a licensed driver, twenty-one years or older, was in the front seat with him. His father had promised to buy him a car once he got his license, but Jesse wasnt counting on it. His father had a habit of making promises he couldnt or wouldnt keep. For example, after he broke his ankle, Jesses father promised to give up wrestling. Throughout his career, he had suffered countless injuriesbroken bones, concussions, tears to his kneesand he said hed had enough. He said he would never step inside a wrestling ring again. But instead of sitting in the stands, watching the Sidewinders defeat the Ravens, Jesses father was in Phoenix, Arizona, wrestling Luke Mauldin at a house show, an untelevised event. He also promised Jesse that, despite all the arguments he and his wife had been having, they would never get divorced. He assured Jesse that he loved his family more than anything in the world and that he wasnt going to lose what he had. Soon after that, Jesses parents separated; their divorce was finalized early this year. Jesses parents sold their house, and his mother moved to Dallas, where she got a job teaching high school English. Jesse and his father remained in San Antonio and went to live with Jesses grandparents. Jesse knew his mother felt betrayed when he chose to stay with his father instead of going to live with her. But

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all his life, because of his fathers career, Jesse had moved constantly, from city to city, from school to school, and he was never able to establish roots anywhere. After finally settling down in San Antonio, Jesse didnt want to move again. His grandparents, his friends and his school were there. He apologized to his mother for his decision. He also promised to stay in contact with her, and unlike his father, he kept his promises. Jesse and his mother talked on the phone often. They also texted and emailed each other regularly. After Jesse and his friends were seated at Chilis, a waitress came to take their order. While she wasnt looking, Goose purposely dropped a packet of sugar on the floor. He picked it up and handed it to her. Excuse me, Goose said, smiling. You dropped your name tag . . . Sugar. The waitress rolled her eyes and shook her head. She tossed the packet on the table and walked off without saying anything. Bucky tee-heed like a little girl. Thats a good one, Goose. You dropped your name tag . . . Sugar. He teeheed again. Most guys voices have deepened by the time they reach Jesses age, but Buckys voice seemed to get higher the older he got. Youd better watch what you say to that waitress, Goose, Wendell warned. Ive heard that if you make servers mad, theyll spit on your food before they serve it to you. Goose tore the sugar packet open and poured its contents down his throat. Dont believe everything you hear, Wendy. Chicks like it when you flirt with them.

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I was just getting ready to say that, Goose, Bucky said in his high voice. Chicks like it when you flirt with them. Goose wadded the sugar packet and tossed it at him. How would you know, Bucky? You dont even like girls. Bucky scowled. I do, too. You know Melissa Dugan? That new girl in my geometry class? Im thinking about asking her out. Goose winked and said, Yeah, I know who youre talking about. Shes that real big girl the guys call Shrek. They dont call her . . . Bucky stopped and kicked Jesse under the table. Hey, look who just walked in. Sara Young and Riley King stood at the entrance. Sara held a long-stemmed rose in her hand that Riley had bought from a vendor who was selling them outside the restaurant. Saras light-brown hair fell down the shoulders of her green sweater. Her eyes matched the color of her sweater. Riley whispered something in Saras ear that made her giggle, bringing out the dimples on her cheeks. Goose turned to Jesse and asked, Man, how did you ever manage to lose a chick as hot as Sara Young? I was just getting ready to say that, Goose, Bucky said. How did you ever manage to lose a chick as hot as Sara Young? That was a question Jesse had asked himself a million times. He used to live down the street from Sara, and they dated for a while. Saras parents werent wrestling fans, but when American Championship Wrestling came to San Antonio, Jesses father invited Sara and her family to attend the show at the Alamodome. He was still recuperating from his ankle injury, so he didnt wrestle that night. But he took everyone backstage to meet the wrestlersthe

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boys, as he called them. Saras mouth hung open in awe at the enormous sizes of men like Jumbo Jefferson and Butcher Murdock. She loved the colorful costumes and masks of the Blue Dragon and El Azteca Dorado. Afterwards, Sara told Jesse how much she and her parents enjoyed the show. She also said that her dad, who in the past, had scoffed at professional wrestling, had gained tremendous respect for what Jesses father did for a living. Jesses mother was thrilled to be at the Alamodome, too, because she had been able to meet up with old friends. But what she especially liked was that her husband didnt have to wrestle that night. For years she had begged him to quit the wrestling business. She was tired of him being gone all the time. She also hated seeing him suffer injury after injury in the ring. Sure, wrestlings scripted; almost everyone knows that. But even though the matches are predetermined, Jesses father still got punched, kicked, slapped, body slammed and thrown over the ropes onto unforgiving, concrete floors. He had also been whacked over the head countless times with metal folding chairs. As brutal as all that sounds, Jesses father loved it and missed being part of the action. The downside of being a professional wrestler is the constant pain wrestlers live with. Jesses father was on painkillers and other prescription medications, which Jesses mother claimed were causing him to become moody and short-tempered. His father insisted there was nothing wrong with him. He said he was just frustrated at not being able to wrestle and was concerned about losing his spot. New wrestlers like Chris Choate and John Henry Sykes were being brought into the company, and Jesses

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father worried that the Angel of Death would soon become irrelevant. Jesses parents argued often about his fathers career, but now that he was home, it seemed as if they fought every day. Finally, Jesses mother gave her husband an ultimatumeither he quit wrestling, or she would leave him. She had left him before, so there was no doubt she would do it again. Jesses father, who had never lost control of his temper before his accident, grew so angry that he drove his fist into the wall. He also kicked over an end table and smashed the lamp that was sitting on top of it. Terrified, Jesses mother called Saras dad, who was a San Antonio cop. He threatened to arrest Jesses father if he didnt calm down. After that, Jesses mother moved out of the house and went to stay with her sister, Gracie. That was when Jesse believed his relationship with Sara began to deteriorate. He would call her, but she always had an excuse for why she couldnt talk on the phone. At school, she would cut him off, saying she didnt have time to visit. Jesse had a feeling that her dad filled Saras head with weird ideas about his parents, especially about his father. Eventually, Jesse left her alone and that ended their relationship. The food was brought out. Bucky and Jesse had cheeseburgers, Goose, the baby back ribs, and Wendell, a chicken Caesar salad. How about that touchdown run I made? Goose said, gnawing on a rib. Pretty amazing, right? Twenty-four yards. I got into the end zone practically untouched. A ring of barbecue sauce had formed around his mouth. Well, how about me? Bucky said. I kicked two field goals.

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A twenty-two yarder and a twenty-seven yard one, Goose said, unimpressed. Still, I scored six points. Ill tell you what else was amazing, Goose continued. He pointed a rib bone at Wendell. The four sacks Wendy made on Mosconi, the Ravens quarterback. Every time Wendy lined up in front of him, I swear Mosconi looked like he was about to wet his pants. Wendell shrugged modestly. The Ravens offensive line is pretty weak. But if were going to win district, well have to get past the Jaguars and the Dragons. Those guys are really tough. Jesse felt uncomfortable sitting there, listening to their conversation, since he hadnt contributed anything to the game. All he had done was cost his team nineteen yards. He glanced over at Riley and Sara, who were sitting on the same side of a booth across from them. Riley was telling Sara a story that had her giggling with delight. Looking back, Jesse realized that the whole time he was with Sara he never really got to know her. He didnt know Sara loved roses. The rose-shaped earrings she wore didnt give him a hint. Neither did the rose pendant on her necklace. Or the pictures of roses on her binder. Its Saras signature flower, Jesse later heard Claudia Gutierrez tell Amanda Birch. Sara was born in New York City, and the rose is the states flower, which might have explained her fondness for roses. Riley noticed it right away, and he bought her roses every chance he got. He even bought her a bottle of Trudy Carlisle perfume for her birthday called, what else? Scarlet Rose. Jesse wondered if maybe he had tried to learn more about what interested Sara instead of boring her with his

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problems, they might still be together. He had told her about what his parents were going through. Sara probably got sick of all his whining. Maybe if his parents hadnt gotten into that huge fight, things might have been different. Maybe if he was the starting quarterback of the Deaf Smith Sidewinders instead of a second-string benchwarmer. Maybe . . . aw, what did it matter? Sara wasnt his girlfriend anymore. Riley wrapped an arm around Sara, drew her close, and she snuggled up against his chest. As he watched them, Jesses throat tightened. He had difficulty swallowing the chunk of cheeseburger in his mouth. Tears welled up in his eyes. This is stupid . I cant cry in front of the guys! Wendell looked at him with concern. You okay, Jesse? Finally, he gulped down the piece of burger. Yeah. Allergies getting to me, I think. Jesse sniffled a couple of times. Ill be right back. He rose from the table and hurried to the bathroom. Inside a stall, he wiped his eyes with the back of his palm. Then he pulled a strip of toilet tissue and blew his nose. While he waited to compose himself, Jesse thought of a quote he had read from the film director and comedian, Woody Allen, who said: Most of the time I d ont have m uch fun. The rest of the time I d ont have any fun at all. Jesse didnt find anything humorous about the joke, if thats what it was supposed to be. Probably because Woody Allen could just as easily have been talking about him.

CHAPTER THREE
aturday morning, Jesse woke up, surprised to hear his fathers voice coming through the bedroom wall. He wasnt expecting him home until Tuesday. His father sounded tense and angry. Jesse got out of bed and made his way to the dining room, where he found his father, his grandparents and TJ Masters having breakfast. Tristan TJ Masters had recently been hired by American Championship Wrestling. Jesses father recommended him to Frank Collins, the ACW booker and promoter, after seeing TJ wrestle in an independent federation called Star-Spangled Wrestling. TJ didnt have a middle name. Frank Collins added the J because he thought TJ sounded better than Tristan. Jesses father abruptly stopped talking when he saw Jesse. He stood and shook his hand. Not long ago, he would have greeted his son with a hug, but now that Jesse was older, he felt that a handshake was more appropriate. Perhaps it was, but there were times when Jesse missed the hugs. Go wash your hands while I fix you a plate, Jesses grandmother said. While he was in the bathroom, Jesse left the door open. He could hear his father talking. Again, he sounded upset. Jesse heard him mention Frank Collins and someone

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named Elijah Nightshade. However, when he returned to the dining room, his fathers demeanor changed. Hows school? he asked, pleasantly enough. Fine, Jesse said, but he didnt want to talk about school. He was curious about what his father had been discussing while he was out of the room. Your grandpa told us about your game last night, TJ said. Congratulations on your win. Thanks, TJ, but I didnt have anything to do with it, Jesse said. I play back-up center, and our coach doesnt use me a whole lot. Jesses grandfather removed the pork chop bones from his plate. Then he sat the plate on the floor for Gremlin, their cat, to lick. Ive been up to the school three times to talk to the coach about why he wont let Jesse play, he said crossly. What does he say? Jesses father asked. Same old crap. Says hell think about it. Maybe Ill talk to him, Jesses father said. I met Duane Blaylock a couple of years ago at the Cleveland AllSports Banquet. He seemed pretty decent. Dad, Im not asking for preferential treatment, Jesse said. Id just like to play a little more. I know, champ. Ill see what I can do. He clamped a giant hand on Jesses shoulder. I only wish I could be at your games. But you know its almost impossible for me to get away. I know, Dad. I understand. TJ tore a piece of tortilla, scooped up scrambled eggs with it and gobbled them up. I wouldnt mind going to one of your games sometime, Jesse, he said. I havent been to a high school football game since . . . well . . . since

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high school. He took a sip of coffee. When do you play again? Next Thursday night, Jesse said. Ordinarily, we play on Fridays, but somethings going on at the stadium Friday evening, so our games been moved to Thursday. But if you go, dont expect to see me do a whole lot, TJ. Really, Im just a benchwarmer. I hear you, TJ said. I wish Collins would give me something more to do than job matches. As a new and relatively unknown talent on American Championship Wrestling, TJ was going through the process many inexperienced wrestlers undergo when theyre first brought into the companyjobbing. Contrary to what casual wrestling fans might think, jobbing, or pretending to lose, actually requires a great amount of skill, because wrestlers have to sell every punch, kick and body slam to make their matches look as realistic as possible. Jobbers are used primarily to give the mid-card and upper-tier wrestlers more credibility, to make them look stronger. ACW officials politely refer to wrestlers like TJ as enhancement talent, but everyone else calls them jobbers. I think TJs trying to break Wally Armstrongs record for the longest losing streak, Jesses father joked, but his voice sounded empty. Something was definitely bugging him. When Jesses grandmother returned to the dining room with Jesses food, she saw Gremlin licking the plate. She stooped and snatched it away. Ive told you not to do that, Alfonso! she scolded her husband. I dont want the cats germs all over my dishes.

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Jesses grandfather laughed. Gremlins a clean cat, Ofelia. He aint got no germs. Besides, youre gonna wash the dishes, aint you? Dont do it, Jesses grandmother replied testily. Me entiend es? Jesses grandfather laughed again. He opened the sliding glass door that led to their patio and tossed his pork chop bones to Pollo, their dog. Jesses grandmother served Jesse his food and a glass of orange juice. After you finish eating, I want you to get ready so I can take you driving, she told him. Driving? Jesses father said, astonished. Ma, are you teaching Jesse how to drive? Well, somebody has to, Marcos, she said. Jesses almost seventeen. He needs to learn how to drive. And since youre never home . . . Jesses father turned a cold eye on her. He flung his napkin on the table and stood up. Ma, dont you start on me about my work. I heard enough of it from Molly, and I dont need to hear it from you. Jesses grandmothers face reddened. Marcos, I never said anything about your work. All I said was . . . She stopped. Jesse couldnt understand why his father had snapped at her. She wasnt insinuating anything. Something else was making him mad. But what? His father sat down again, and for a while, no one said anything. Finally, to break the silence, Jesse asked, Dad, whos Elijah Nightshade? His father glared at him with his piercing, black eyes. Then he turned away without answering. Jesses stomach knotted up. He knew at once that he had asked the wrong question.

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TJ smiled and said, Youre looking at him, Jesse. Elijah Nightshades gonna be your popss new ring name. What? TJs words gave Jesse such a start of surprise that he dropped his fork. He looked at his father, confused. His father leaned back in his chair and let out an exasperated sigh. Thats right, champ. Frank thinks that the Angel of Death has become too cartoonish. He says that the fans dont buy into the demonic, mystical stuff anymore, so he wants me to give him up. His voice was low, and he sounded tired. Jesses appetite instantly vanished. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and moved his plate out of the way. Too cartoonish? Dad, pro wrestling by its very nature is cartoonish. Nobody really believes you come from the lower regions of the Netherworld or that you have supernatural powers. But it doesnt matter. The fans love the Angel of Death. His father shook his head. Im afraid Frank doesnt agree with you, champ. He wants to take the ACW in a different direction, one with an edgier, more realistic feel to it. As concerned as Jesses father looked, TJ, by contrast, had a grin on his face. Guess what Collins wants your pops to do, Jesse. His grin widened. He wants Mark to play an evil televangelist! TJ cracked up and slapped his hands. Can you believe it? An evil televangelist named Elijah Nightshade! Jesses father shot him a searing look. TJ put his hands up in surrender. Sorry, man. But youve gotta admit, Mark, that the evil televangelist idea is hilarious.

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Easy for you to say, TJ, Jesses father grumbled. Youre not the one being saddled with that idiotic gimmick. TJ turned to Jesse. Remember that story that was in the news a few weeks ago about the phony preacher who got arrested for income tax evasion? You mean Brother Clyde Vincent? Clyde Vincent was a nationally televised preacher with big, puffy hair, who dressed in expensive suits and wore lots of flashy jewelry. His specialty was miracle cures. He claimed to be able to heal the deaf, the blind and the crippled. He cured people of cancer, diabetes and tumors, simply by laying his hands on them. In return, he asked his followers to send him moneylots of itso that his healing ministry could continue. ABC New s finally exposed him for the fraud he was. Yeah, thats him, TJ said. Well, Collins wants your pops to play a Clyde Vincent-type character. You know, cause thats whats current. Its something the fans can relate to. TJ tried to keep a straight face, but there was laughter in his voice. He wants Mark to cut his hair and appear without the skeleton-face make-up. Your pops will be paired up with a stable of heel wrestlersdisciples, if you willand theyll be known as Elijah Nightshade and the Assembly. A guffaw exploded from TJs mouth. He put his hands up again. Sorry, Mark. I cant help it. Unamused, Jesses father said, Franks out to bury me, champ. After all Ive done for him and the ACW, he does this to me. Marcos, I dont think Mr. Collins is trying to ruin your career, Jesses grandmother said gently. Hes just doing what he thinks is best for his company. Besides, youve had worse gimmicks. She reached across the table and

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took his hand. Remember how you felt about being the Annihilator? You hated wearing that mask. After your matches, youd take it off, and your face would be covered with sweat. And dont forget, you thought that the Angel of Death gimmick was silly when they first gave it to you. But you did these things, Marcos, because that was what you were told to do. It was your job. Job, Jesses father muttered. He pulled away from her. Thats what Frank wants me to do, Majob. He wants to make sure the fans forget about the Angel of Death, so hes planning to job me out until no one cares about him anymore. I jobbed to Luke Mauldin last night. Monday, Ill be jobbing to John Henry Sykes on TV. He spun around and aimed an angry finger at TJ. Next, Collins will be telling me to job to you! TJ reeled back and his eyebrows shot up. Face it, Ma. The Angel of Death is dead. Dead, dead and gone. Jesses father rose from the table and made his way to the connecting living room, where he slumped in an overstuffed chair. TJ joined him in the living room and sat on the piano bench. With one finger, he picked out a simple tune on the piano. Dont take it so hard, Mark. The Angel of Death might be dead, but your career isnt. Its just going in a new direction. Jesses father didnt reply. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The silence that followed was thick and awkward. Being told that he would have to get rid of his Angel of Death persona had hit Jesses father as hard as being told that his best friend had just died. He had worked hard to develop his gimmick and had hoped to retire from wrestling as the Angel of Death.

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Who plays the piano? TJ asked. Marcos, Jesses grandmother said. When he wants to. No kidding. TJ looked at Jesses father and started to ask him about it but decided not to. He picked up the guitar sitting next to the piano. And the guitar? It belongs to Marcos, but Jesse knows how to play it, too, Jesses grandmother said. Yeah? TJ strummed an unmelodic chord. How about playing something for us, Jesse? Nah, maybe some other time. Jesse didnt want to disturb his father. He was in a foul mood, and Jesse was afraid he would snap at him the way he had done to his grandmother. Jesses grandfather leaned into him and whispered, nd ale . Play something. Itll cheer your papi up. The way his father looked, slouched in his chair, Jesse didnt think anything could make him feel better. Then an idea hit him. He walked over and took the guitar from TJ, who stood and let him have the piano bench. Wait, dont start playing yet, Jesses grandfather said. He gathered the rest of the bones from the dishes and fed them to the dog. Then he and his wife sat on the couch with TJ. This is actually a poem my dad wrote years ago, Jesse told TJ. I turned it into a song for a Spanish class project. Its called Traged ia d e Julia Hernnd ez . Jesses grandmother had insisted that he take Spanish in school. She was irritated with Jesses parents for not having taught him how to speak Spanish, even though they spoke it fluently. Jesses father sat up. He smiled curiously and asked, Where did you find that poem, champ?

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Mom kept all your poems and songs in a scrapbook. I found the scrapbook in a box in the attic. Whoa, Mark, TJ said. Poems? Songs? And youre a pianist and a guitarist? Sounds like Elijah Nightshade might have a whole other career going for him. His comments were received with an icy stare. Julia Hernndez, Jesses grandfather said. Why does that name sound familiar? You told me about her, Pa, Jesses father said. Remember? When I was little, you told me a story about a woman in your neighborhood who had been murdered by her jealous husband. Jesses grandfather squinted, trying to recall a vague memory. Oh, thats right. Julia Hernndez. She used to live in our barrio in Dallas. And you wrote a song about her? No, Pa. I wrote a poem. Jesse turned it into a song. Well, lets hear it, TJ said. Jesse started slowly with a repetition of D minor, A minor, E, and back to A minor. Then he sang: Seores, tengan presente, lo que en Dallas suced i. Pues ya lo sabe la gente, que Julia Hernnd ez muri. Cincuenta y nueve es el ao en que Julia termin. Sin esperar ningn d ao, pues la vid a le cost.

TJ followed the beat of the song, patting a hand on his knee. Jesses father nodded along, obviously pleased.

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Jesse changed keys while he played an interlude. Then he continued. Julia d ej d e bailar cuand o el marid o lleg. Y l, sin mucho hablar, para afuera la sac. De all se la llev, para una casa sola; y enseguid a la mat con d os tiros d e una pistola. Cuand o ya muerta la vio, y sin hacer mucho ruid o, tambin l se d ispar, qued and o muy mal herid o. Rosa presenci, y d io esta d eclaracin: que Julia muerta qued , cerca d e un callejn. Ya Julia est en el cielo, y el marid o en la prisin. Dad le a sus pad res consuelo, y que Dios les d e su perd n.

Julia entr al Mollejn, luego comenz a bailar, sin d ecirle el corazn, lo que le iba a pasar. A las once d e la noche, Julia and aba bailand o. Lleg el marid o en un coche, porque la and aba buscand o.

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When Jesse was done, everyone applauded. Man, that was awesome, TJ said, even though he hadnt understood any of the words. Jesses fathers face filled with pride. I cant believe you were able to turn that old poem into something special, champ. Jesse knew he wasnt going to solve his fathers problems. But for the moment, he was glad that he been able to help him take his mind off them. TJ looked at his watch. Oh, man. Ive gotta get going. Im supposed to meet this gal in a little while. He rose from the couch. Thanks for breakfast, Mrs. Baron. And thanks for the concert, Jesse. He stopped at the door. By the way, I was serious about going to your game. Next Thursday, right? Yeah, but dont you have to wrestle that night? Jesse asked, because he knew the ACW was putting on a house show in Baton Rouge on Thursday. Nuh-uh. I know Mark does. But then, hes a superstar. His schedules a lot fuller than mine. The only time the ACW books me is when they need me to get beaten up. TJ opened the door. Well be in touch, okay?

CHAPTER FOUR
fter TJ left, Jesse practiced driving with his grandmother. As usual, they stuck to residential areas. Jesse drove through Ralston Street and passed by his old house. Someone else was living in it now. The place looked the same, except that the holly bushes in front had grown so tall, they blocked most of the picture window. The new owners hadnt trimmed the bushes since they moved in. When Jesse turned the corner on Bank Street, he gaped in disbelief at what he saw. He slammed his foot on the brakes. The tires shrieked. So did his grandmother. Gela! Look! Jesse cried. Its Duck! He shoved the gear in park, undid his seatbelt and flew out of the car. Jesse, ests loco ? I dont see any ducks! A light-brown Labrador trotted along the sidewalk. It stopped at a cluster of monkey grass in front of a house and did its business. Then it kept going. Come here, Duck, Jesse called. Its me, boy. Remember me, Duck? He chased after the dog, clapping his hands to get its attention. The dog stopped and stared at Jesse. Its ears perked up, and its mouth opened in what looked like a smile. At that moment, a girl came running from the opposite direction with a leash in her hand.

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Come here, Samson, she called. Come here, boy. Jesse recognized her from school, but he didnt know her name. The girl was tall and thin. Her bangs came down to her eyebrows, and strands of dark-brown hair hung on the sides of her face, like long sideburns. But the hair on the back of her head was closely-cropped, almost shaven. She wore denim jeans and a black T-shirt with the words JAMAICAN RUDEBOYS in white letters. The dog furrowed its brows. It looked at the girl, then back at Jesse. The girl bent in a crouch and dangled the leash. Finally, the dog padded up to her, and she hooked the leash on its collar. Hey, thats my dog, Jesse said. The girl gave him a sidelong glance. No, hes not. Hes my dog. She caressed the dogs head. Right, Samson? Samson? Jesse wondered if he was mistaken. It had been a long time since he had seen Duck. The dog was the same color, with a white patch on its chest. Its ears, like Ducks, were a darker shade of brown than the rest of its coat. Weve had him for almost two years, the girl said. Ever since he showed up at our house without any tags. She started to lead the dog away. Wait. Duck ran away from us two years ago, Jesse said. So? That doesnt mean Samsons your dog. Jesse began to suspect that the dog might be Duck after all. Hold on. I know how to prove hes mine. He squatted in front of the dog and said, Shake, Duck. Shake. The dog lifted its right paw and Jesse took it in his hand. Big deal, the girl said. I taught him that trick a long time ago. She tugged on the leash and brought the dog

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toward her. Samson, shake. Again, the dog raised its paw. By that time, Jesses grandmother had gotten out of the car. When she approached them, Jesse said, Look, Gela. I found Duck. The girl let out a huff and rolled her eyes. Maam, this is our dog. Jesses grandmother took the dog by its snout and studied its face. She smiled and said, No, dear. This is Jesses dog. I ought to know. I gave it to him for his birthday. The girls eyes widened in alarm. But . . . but he cant be. Samson belongs to us. Hes our dog. I understand how you feel . . . whats your name? Jesses grandmother asked. The girl bit her lip. She looked down the street, as if hoping someone would rescue her from the crazy people who were trying to take away her dog. Wally, she said. Wally? Jesse stared at her skeptically. Is that your real name? Yes, the girl hissed. Wally Mora. What kind of name is Wally for a girl? Jesse asked. What kind of name is Duck for a dog? she fired back. Good point. Jesse had named his dog Duck because when it was a puppy, he thought its bark sounded like a ducks quack. I have to go, Wally said. Im sorry, but you made a mistake. Samsons my dog. She started off. Hey, you cant just walk away with my dog, Jesse said. Wait, Jesses grandmother said, putting up a hand like a traffic cop. We need to discuss this, but not right now. Give me your home number, Wally, and Ill talk to

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your parents about it. She opened her purse and pulled out a store receipt and a pen. Wallys face sank at the thought that she could possibly lose her dog. Jesse knew how she felt. Hed had the same sick feeling when Duck ran away from him. Duck was a digger. Jesses old house had a large back yard, but Duck insisted on digging underneath the fence and getting out. Three times he had run away. Jesse used to think that his parents constant bickering frightened Duck. If that was the case, Jesse couldnt blame the dog for taking off. There were times when he felt like running away, too. Duck escaped for the fourth time when Jesse was in the process of moving. The gate to their back yard had been left open, and Duck ran out. Jesse searched all over the neighborhood for his dog. After they moved, he had his grandmother drive him back so he could hang up reward posters. He also checked the animal control shelter daily. If Duck ever returned to their old house, he had found it empty. Jesse had given up all hope of ever seeing Duck again. But here he was. Wally reluctantly gave out her number. At least Jesse hoped it was her real number. As he and his grandmother turned to leave, Wally glared at him and said, Hes still my dog.

CHAPTER FIVE
esses grandmother waited an hour before calling Wallys mother, who invited them over. As it turned out, their house was about a half-mile from where Jesse used to live. He had jogged past it millions of times. The house sat high on a hill. It was a two-story, multibrown stone house with a spiraling stairway in front, two round towers and arched windows. To Jesse, it resembled a small castle. They were met at the porch by Wally, her mother and Duck. Buenas tard es, Wallys mother said, but her face did not look friendly. She introduced herself as Carmela Mora. She opened the door and everyone, including Duck, entered the house. Jesse was surprised that Duck was an inside dog. When he lived with them, Duck stayed outside, unless the weather was unbearably cold. He had a plastic igloo doghouse where he slept. He also had plenty of space in the back yard to run around in. Still, Jesse thought, those arrangements couldnt beat living inside a nice, cozy house. He wasnt going to ask, but he could have bet that Duck had never tried to run away from this place. The windows were covered with giant Chinese fans. The living room was encircled with mismatched furniture:

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a paisley-design couch, an old loveseat with faded, green upholstery, a light-brown recliner and two burgundy arm chairs. Next to the recliner was a floor lamp with a silver, squiggly design and a blue lampshade covered with white stars. On the mantle, above the fireplace, was a framed photograph of Wally, her mother and Duck sitting on the grass of what might have been Brackenridge Park. In the corner of the room, near a window, stood a bird cage with a parrot perched on a wooden rod. Jesse and his grandmother sat on the couch, while Wally and her mother sat across them on the loveseat. Duck situated himself on the floor in front of Wally. Jesse couldnt get over how well-behaved Duck was. Whenever he would bring him inside the house, Duck would go wild. First, he would jump on the couch. Then he would go on a peeing spree, marking his territory on all the furniture. After that, he would scamper up the stairs and run across the hallway, then turn around and run back down. Jesses mother would threaten to throw Duck back outside if Jesse didnt keep him under control. Looking at Duck, sitting on the floor, while Wally played with his ears, Jesse never would have imagined that the dog could be so calm. Wally is such a unique name for a girl, Jesses grandmother commented, stalling, not sure how to move into a conversation about Duck. Is it short for something? Wallys mother cracked a sad smile. No, she was named after her father. My husband died in a car accident two months before Wally was born, so I gave her his name. Jesses grandmother put a hand over her chest and gasped. Oh, I am so sorry.

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Mrs. Mora nodded appreciatively. A couple of teenagers decided to race to see who had the fastest car. My husband happened to get in their way. They tell me he died instantly. It must have been so hard for you to go through the birth of Wally alone, Jesses grandmother said, her darkbrown eyes glistening. Actually, her name is Wally Ann, Mrs. Mora explained. I meant for her to go by Ann, and for a while she did. But now she prefers Wally because, as you said, Wally is a unique name for a girl. Com e on, Gela, Jesse thought. Cut the chit-chat. Ask her about Duck . Are you a student at Deaf Smith High School, Wally? Jesses grandmother asked. More chit-chat. Yes, Im a sophomore. Really? Jesse goes to Deaf Smith, too. Hes a junior. He plays on the Sidewinders football team. Wally gave Jesse a cursory look, then went back to playing with the dogs ears. While they talked, the parrot began to whistle a tune. Softly at first, then gradually louder. Jesses grandmother gazed curiously at the bird and asked, Is the parrot whistling the national anthem? Mrs. Mora sighed. Yes, he does that whenever he wants attention. She turned to the parrot and said, Orpheus, be quiet. The parrot squawked and stopped whistling. Mrs. Mora leaned forward and made praying hands. She rested her chin on her thumbs and straightforwardly said, The thing is, Mrs. Baron, Wally and I have grown very fond of Samson. He may have been your dog at one

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time, but giving him up now would be like losing another family member. Jesses grandmothers face hardened. I understand how you feel, Mrs. Mora. But the fact is, the dog still belongs to Jesse. You have no idea what weve gone through trying to find him. She pulled her checkbook and a pen out of her purse. We had been offering a fiftydollar reward to anyone who found Jesses dog, and the offer still stands. Plus, Im willing to give you another fifty dollars for having taken care of the dog. Wallys mother dropped her hands and curled her lips in disgust. Mrs. Baron, Samson is not for sale! We didnt come here to buy the dog, Mrs. Mora, Jesses grandmother said sternly. We came to collect him. He belongs to us. Again, the parrot began whistling the national anthem. Do you have any proof that hes yours? Wally asked, jumping into the argument. Do you have any proof that hes yours? Jesse joined in. Wally spun around and glared at him. He lives here with us. Id say thats pretty good proof. The parrot was now screeching its song. Stop it, Orpheus! Wally shouted, but the parrot ignored her and continued belting out the patriotic tune. Jesse hadnt anticipated any of this. He thought they would come over, get Duck and leave. His grandmother had told him she was going to offer the family a hundred dollars. Who would turn down a hundred bucks for returning a dog that didnt belong to them in the first place? Ill give you a hundred and fifty, Jesses grandmother said loudly, trying to make herself heard over the

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parrots noise. I think thats more than generous, considering that hes Jesses dog. Excuse me. Wallys mother got up and draped a bath towel over the bird cage, which settled the parrot down, and it stopped whistling. Jesse gazed at the family photograph on the mantle. Then he looked down at Wally, who was squatted on the floor with her arms wrapped around Ducks neck. As much as he would have liked to have gotten him back, he began to realize that Duck was no longer his dog. Besides, his grandparents already had Pollo and Gremlin. They didnt need a third pet. And how would Pollo feel having another dog in the back yard with him? Thats where Duck would end up. Jesses grandparents didnt believe in having a dog inside the house. Please be reasonable, Mrs. Mora, Jesses grandmother said when Wallys mother returned. Were grateful that you found Jesses dog, but . . . No, Gela, Jesse interrupted. Ducks not my dog anymore. He belongs to them now. I think hell be much happier living here. Wally looked up and exclaimed, Holy cats! Are you serious? Yeah, you can have him. Jesse hunched down and patted the dog on the head. Mijo , are you sure? Jesses grandmother asked. Yeah, Im sure. Jesse took the dog by its snout. Youre lucky to have a family who loves you so much, boy. Mrs. Mora sighed with relief. Thank you, Jesse. You cant imagine how much Samson means to Wally and me.

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Jesses grandmother slipped her pen and checkbook back in her purse and rose from the couch. Youre more than welcome to come by anytime you want to see Samson, Wally offered. Maybe, Jesse said, but as far as he was concerned, the deal was done. He didnt plan to return to this house again.

CHAPTER SIX
hat evening, Jesse called his mother to tell her about Duck. He had tried to talk to his father about having found the dog, but he only half-way listened. His fathers mind was on his future with the ACW. Throughout the day he had complained incessantly about having to give up being the Angel of Death. When Jesse told his mother about his fathers new gimmick, she laughed at the thought that her ex-husband, who seldom went to church, would portray a preacher even a phony one. Dads really steamed about it, Mom, Jesse said. He says that if the ACW doesnt care enough to listen to what he wants, hell just retire. His mother chuckled. Oh, Jesse, are you still falling for that line? Your father will never give up wrestling. Its too deep in his blood. His career means more to him than anything in the world . . . including his family. Mom, thats not true, Jesse said. I know Dad cares about me. And I know that he still cares about you. Really? Then perhaps you can explain why Im living in Dallas. No, kiddo, your father made a choice, and unfortunately, I came in second. You m ad e a choice, too, Mom , Jesse thought. Thats w hy you live in Dallas.

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His mother was the one who had asked for the divorce. She could have stayed in the marriage and made it work. Jesses father had been a professional wrestler for almost twenty years. It was what he did for a living. Thats how he paid the bills. What was he supposed to do? Give up his career and go work as a shoe salesman in a department store? Jesse didnt like it that his father was on the road so much, but he was doing his best to cope with it. Why couldnt his mother? Almost certain that he knew the answer, Jesse asked, Mom, lets say that Dad absolutely hates being Elijah Nightshade, and he decides to retire. Is there any chance that the two of you could get together again? Silence. Mom? Jesse, your father will continue to wrestle no matter what ridiculous gimmick the ACW pins on him, his mother said. Hell be one of those wrestlers who stays in the business long past his prime. Look at what happened to Bruce Brannigan. Bruce used to be the ACW heavyweight champion. He was on top of the world. But he couldnt bring himself to retire after his star faded and the ACW released him. Now Bruce wrestles for pennies in bingo halls and school gymnasiums. Thats what your father will eventually end up doing. Hell be an old man, working in the independent circuit, jobbing matches to help put over the young talent. Dont believe what he says, kiddo. Mark my word. Ten years from now, hell still be wrestling. She paused. Besides, Im seeing someone right now. Youre dating? Jesse said, flabbergasted. A knot cramped up in the pit of his stomach. Its nothing serious. Were just friends.

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Youre dating? Jesse repeated. The thought of his mother with another man sickened him. What was she doing dating? The ink on the divorce papers was barely dry. Its not what you think, his mother said. Homers a nice man who works at my school, and weve gone out a few times. Homer? Thats his name. Homer Mondragn. He teaches algebra here at North Oak Cliff High School. An image of Homer Simpson from The Simpsons popped in Jesses mind. Great. My moms d ating Homer Sim pson. What does he look like? Jesse imagined a fat, bald, yellow-skinned man, wearing a short-sleeve, white shirt and blue pants. I dont want to talk about him right now, his mother said. Listen, I hate to cut this call short, but I have a ton of essays to grade. Dont worry about Homer, Jesse. Like I said, were just good friends. Good friends now. But what about later? Jesses mother and that Homer guy were both teachers. They had that in common. They worked the same hours. They also had the same days off and the same vacation time. Jesse had spent the summer in Dallas with his mother. She had taken him to Dealey Plaza, where President John F. Kennedy had been assassinated, and to the Sixth Floor Museum across the street, where Jesse studied numerous exhibits that described the events surrounding the assassination. They had also taken a tour of Cowboys Stadium in Arlington and had spent a day at Six Flags over Texas. One evening, they attended a rodeo show at the Stockyards in Forth Worth. On another night, they sat on

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the grass outside the Dallas Museum of Art to listen to a jazz concert. With the lousy year Jesse had been having, he had considered moving to Dallas when the semester was over. But now with a man in his mothers life, where did that leave him? He had been looking forward to spending Thanksgiving break with her, but how much time would she give him if Homer Simpson was hanging around? What if she got serious about him? What if she decided she wanted to marry Homer Simpson? Doh!

CHAPTER SEVEN
onday afternoon, Jesses last class of the day, Spanish, ended at two-fifteen, and he made his way out of the building. Football players were allowed to leave school early because practice began at three, and they had to get to the field house. Some of the newer schools in San Antonio had field houses on their campuses, but Jesses was a few blocks away, across from an elementary school. Bucky was in his class, so they walked out together. Wendell and Goose waited for them at the bottom of the steps. Quiero tres tazas d e t, por favor, Bucky told the guys. Whats that supposed to mean? Goose asked. It means, Id like three cups of tea, please, Bucky explained. I know what it means, Goose said, but why did you say it? Its a phrase we learned in Spanish class today. Weve been learning how to say restaurant phrases. Bucky held up two fingers. Tiene una mesa para d os personas? That means do you have a table for two people. I can speak Spanish, you know, Goose said irately. La cuenta, por favor, Bucky continued. That means . . . You guys ready to go? Wendell interrupted.

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Yeah. Goose grabbed his backpack from the concrete railing and hurried off before Bucky could babble on with his Spanish lesson. Bucky was picking up Spanish quicklymuch faster than Jesse. Being Latino, Jesse felt stupid taking Spanish. He should have learned the language at home. It wasnt his fault that his parents didnt bother to teach it to him. At first, some of the kids in his class assumed Jesse spoke Spanish and was taking the course for an easy A. It didnt take long before they discovered that his Spanish was just as poor as theirs. Jesse had continued to maintain a B average in Spanish class because of the song he had performed. But he hadnt written Traged ia d e Julia Hernnd ez ; his father had. If it hadnt been for his fathers poem, Jesse would be bombing out in that class. Riley King drove his car out of the parking lot and headed toward them. Mitch Maloof rode with him. Goose tried flagging him down for a ride, but Riley ignored him and kept driving. Hey, Riley! Goose shouted. Theres no I in TEAM, remember? Maybe theres no I in TEAM, Jesse said, but theres an M and an E, and that jerk thinks the teams all about him. On their way to the field house, Goose told the guys about a Halloween party he was hosting. I wanna invite the whole team, he said. Glancing down the street, he clarified, Well, most of the team. Wendell pulled a plastic baggie filled with celery sticks and baby carrots from his insulated lunch container. Want some? he asked the guys.

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Goose stared at the baggie. Ugh, I hate celery. It tastes like crunchy, soapy water. But Ill have some of your carrots. He opened the baggie and grabbed a handful of baby carrots. Hey, dont take them all, Wendell complained. Theyre my afternoon snack. Goose started to put some of the carrots back, but Wendell yanked the baggie away from him. Keep them. I dont want those carrots, now that youve gotten your dirty hands all over them. Wendell had been working hard to lose weight, and it amazed Jesse how disciplined he was about his diet. When he first met him, Wendell weighed well over three hundred pounds. Now he was probably two-seventy, two seventy-five tops. Jesse was hesitant to take Wendells food, but he was hungry, so he helped himself to a baby carrot and two celery sticks. The guys arrived at the field house and changed into their pads. At three oclock, Coach Blaylock blew his whistle and all the players lined up in rows. Riley and Mitch, two of the team captains, led them in stretches. After that, they performed a series of jumping jacks. They finished the last jumps, chanting, S-M-I-T-H Sidewinders! Hoo-ah! Next, they ran laps around the track. Bucky caught up to Jesse, breathing heavily. Quiero . . . tres . . . tazas . . . d e t . . . por favor, he said between gasps. The players rested a bit and then split into groups, according to their playing positions. Coach Lawson, an assistant coach, called Sam and Jesse to the two-man blocking sled.

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Remember, stay low. Dont stand up straight to block, Coach Lawson reminded them. He climbed up on the sled. You need to have a good stance and good balance. Always be ready for the lineman whos gonna try to run you over. Jesse and Sam got in their stance, about two yards away. At Coach Lawsons signal, they attacked the sled, first with their right shoulders, then with their left, while the coach rode on it. Next, the coach had them practice angle blocks. Always get a good block, either on the player across from you or on the one angled to you, Coach Lawson told them. A good center must be able to not only snap the ball, but to block as well. He had Jesse and Sam face each other. When they were ready, Coach Lawson blew his whistle. Jesses foot got caught in a clump of grass, and as soon as he came out of his stance, he slipped and fell on his face. Sam laughed. So you think youre ready to take my place, Baron? Jesses face burned red, but he didnt say anything. He rose to his feet and retook his position. Okay, lets try it again, Coach Lawson said, ignoring Jesses blunder. Remember, push underneath your opponents shoulder pads, back straight and feet apart. Keep driving forward until I signal for you to stop. He blew his whistle. Jesse and Sam charged at each other like two angry rams. Jesse dug his feet into the ground and pushed with all his might. But Sam, who was twenty-five pounds heavier, shoved him back, back, back, until Jesse lost his balance and fell on his butt. Sam laughed again. He reached a hand to pull Jesse up, but Jesse slapped it away and got up on his own.

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He hated being on the field. What did it matter if he practiced? Coach Blaylock wasnt going to let him play. Jesse was ready to quit the team. But they only had two games left on their schedule, and he knew it would look bad if he gave up now. He would finish out the season, but there was no way he would return to the team next year. After practice, they stripped off their uniforms and showered. While they got dressed, Wendell asked the guys, Yall still coming over tonight? It depends, Wendy, Goose said. He brushed gel into his hair with his fingers. You gonna have anything to eat other than carrots and celery sticks? I was just getting ready to say that, Goose, Bucky said. Are you going to have anything to eat other than carrots and celery sticks? Im not inviting you guys over for supper, Wendell said. Just to watch wrestling. Well, how do you expect me to sit through two hours of Mond ay Night Mayhem without eating anything? Goose asked. He checked his reflection in the mirror and smiled at what he saw. Then stay home, Wendell said. I dont care. Whos wrestling tonight, anyway? Bucky asked. Wendell sat on a bench and tied his tennis shoes. They announced last week that Ice Man Jacob Sloane will be defending the ACW heavyweight belt against Lance Redwine. Redwine? Goose said. Why are they giving him a title shot? Hes not championship material. Yeah, hes not championship material, Bucky echoed. Goose threw a wet towel at Buckys face. Quit repeating everything I say, man. Its irritating.

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Bucky removed the towel and gave him a goofy grin. Is your dad fighting tonight, Jesse? Wendell asked. I dont remember them mentioning anything about him on last weeks show. Yeah, hes wrestling John Henry Sykes, Jesse said without giving any details. Your dad should be fighting the Ice Man for the title, Goose said. The Angel of Death is the best champion the ACWs ever had. Yeah, the Angel of Death is . . . Bucky started, then stopped. Jesse usually kept the guys informed about what took place behind the scenes at American Championship Wrestling. They knew how matches were set up and how it was determined ahead of time who would win each match. They even knew about blading, in which wrestlers bleed by cutting their foreheads with tiny, hidden razor blades to make their matches look more realistic. But Jesse couldnt bring himself to tell them that in a few weeks, the Angel of Death would no longer exist. When his father began his wrestling career, he was known as Mark the Mangler Baron. Later, he wore a black and silver mask and called himself the Annihilator. But his career didnt take off until he joined the ACW and became the Angel of Death. Now, it appeared that he was about to lose that character forever. The plan was for Jesses father to become Elijah Nightshade, a false prophet. He would quote lines that sounded like Bible Scriptures, except that he would twist the words to justify his heel or bad guy actions. Carlos Montoya, who had wrestled as a masked man called El Azteca Dorado, was also going to be stripped of his gimmick. He would appear without his mask and be

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known as Brother Jeremiah. He would form part of Elijah Nightshades Assembly. So would Marv Demented Devlin Dredd Snider, whose new ring name would be Brother Ezekiel. Cassandra Richardson, who had once worked as the Angel of Deaths valet, Spirit, would be paired with him again. This time, she would be called Sister Ruth. Jesses father said that other wrestling promotions had done the evil preacher gimmick without success, so he didnt have any hope that it would work now. And without the Angel of Death character to fall back on, what would happen to his career? He had been home for the weekend because the ACW was slowly removing the Angel of Death from house-show appearances. Jesse used to look forward to seeing him, but the way his father was acting stirred bad memories of the night of his parents big fight. Jesse wished his father would make a decision about his careereither retire or accept his new gimmick, because he was getting tired of his nonstop griping. Although he would never admit it to anyone, Jesse was glad when his father left for his match in Atlanta.

CHAPTER EIGHT
t a little after eight, Jesse arrived at Wendells house. He knocked, but no one came to the door. He could hear a dull, whirring sound coming from inside. He knocked harder until his knuckle hurt. The whirring stopped. A moment later, Wendells mother opened the door. Her face was rosy and covered with perspiration. Her gray T-shirt was also sweaty. Hello, Jesse, come in, she said, trying to catch her breath. She removed a towel from her neck and wiped her face. Please excuse my appearance; I was exercising. Her bedroom door was open, and Jesse could see a treadmill in there. She led him to the den where the guys were watching Mond ay Night Mayhem . Wendells mother returned to her bedroom and shut the door. The whirring sound started again. Hi, guys. Have I missed much? Not really, Wendell said. The show opened with Lance Redwine talking about how he was going to beat the Ice Man for the title tonight. Hes not, is he? Goose asked. He and Bucky sat on the couch sharing a bag of Fritos. Wendell was seated on the recliner next to them, nibbling on a rice cake. Jesse pulled up a wooden rocking chair and joined them. I dont think so, he said. According to my father,

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the ACW likes Sloane as their champion, so theyre planning to let him have a long title run. The guys appreciated any information Jesse gave them about the wrestling industry. They saw themselves as smarks. A smark is a fan who knows that pro wrestling is scripted but can enjoy it for what it is, unlike a mark who believes that wrestling is real. Now theyve got this jobber, TJ Masters, getting killed by Solomon Grimm, Goose said. Yeah, hes getting killed by Solomon Grimm, Bucky said. Grimm worked TJ over with hard chops to the chest. Then he swung him to the ropes with an Irish whip and whacked him with a clothesline when TJ sprang back. Grimm picked him up by his hair and took TJ back down with a belly-to-belly suplex. Jesse knew TJ was okay, but like the guys said, it sure looked as if Solomon Grimm was killing him. Grimm lifted TJ to his feet, clamped on a full nelson, and slammed him face first onto the mat. It was Solomon Grimms finisher, the Grimm Reality. He rolled TJ over and made the pin. The referee slapped his hand on the mat three times and the match was over. Solomon Grimms arm was raised in victory while the crowd booed. But Grimm wasnt finished. He jerked away from the referee, stomped on TJs chest and kicked him out of the ring. The referee scolded Grimm, but he just laughed savagely as the audience continued to boo. The show went to a commercial break. Goose wadded his empty Fritos bag and threw it at the TV. Man, I dont know why the ACW puts on these squash matches. Nobody likes to watch them. I was just getting ready to say that, Goose, Bucky said. Nobody likes to watch them.

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Where did the ACW find that jobber, anyway? Goose asked. Sacking groceries at Walmart? Hey, dont knock TJ, Jesse said. Hes cool. Goose took out a package of Oreo cookies from a plastic grocery bag. You know him? Yeah. He and my father are friends. Actually, TJ lives here in San Antonio. Bucky tee-heed. Well, since TJ and your dad are such good friends, maybe your dad ought to teach him how to wrestle. Yeah, maybe your dad ought to teach him how to wrestle, Goose repeated in a high voice, mocking Bucky. Bucky gave him a dirty look. Goose passed around the Oreo cookies bag. Bucky and Jesse grabbed some cookies, but Wendell waved the bag away. A few minutes later, Mond ay Night Mayhem returned. Dan Greenberg stood in the center of the ring, microphone in hand, ready to introduce the next match. A loud train whistle sounded, followed by John Henry Sykess entrance music. This bout is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, weighing in at two-hundred seventy pounds, from Louisville, Kentucky . . . John Hen-ry Syyyk es! The Georgia Dome crowd erupted with cheers as John Henry, a huge man with a chiseled, body builders physique, appeared at the top of the stage. He wore blue, pinstripe bib overalls, a red bandana and a pinstripe train conductors cap. He pumped his arm up and down as if he was tugging on the train whistles string and let out a fiery Woo! Woo! The fans mimicked him by pumping their arms and Woo! Wooed! along with him.

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Man I hate that guy, Goose said. He looks like a big, dorky kid getting ready to play with his choo-choo trains. Once inside the ring, John Henry stripped off his overalls, much to the delight of many of the females in the audience, who whistled and screamed at seeing his muscular body. Underneath his overalls, John Henry wore blue, pinstripe wrestling trunks and blue boots. The arena grew dark. Unharmonious organ music sounded, and the stage entrance filled with smoke. His opponent, Dan Greenberg continued, weighing in at three hundred twenty pounds, he is the emissary from the lower regions of the Netherworld. Ladies and gentlemen . . . the Aaangel of Deaath! A cannon-like explosion reverberated throughout the arena and flames on both sides of the stage shot up in yellow-orange columns. Then from out of the cloud he appeared. The guys cheered and clapped, but the Georgia Dome audience greeted the Angel of Death with a chorus of boos. The Angel of Death raised his scythe above his head. Aaagghh! he roared. More boos. When Jesses father returned to work after his accident, Frank Collins decided to turn him into a heel. He felt that the Angel of Death character needed to be revamped. Jesses father didnt mind. He had often said that he preferred to play a heel rather than a baby face, a good guy. He had played a heel when he wrestled as the Annihilator. He had also started out as a heel when he joined the ACW and became the Angel of Death. Later, because of his popularity, he was turned into a baby face.

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The easiest way for a wrestler to turn heel is to attack the top baby face in the company. At the time it was Ice Man Jacob Sloane. On a Mond ay Night Mayhem show, while the Ice Man was being interviewed by Moose McGirk, the Angel of Death interrupted them, claiming that the Ice Man had something that belonged to himthe ACW heavyweight belt. When Sloane turned his back, the Angel of Death assaulted him with vicious punches and kicks. He lifted Sloane, flipped him upside down and drove him onto the floor with his finishing maneuver, the Death Drop Pile Driver. A series of title matches followed, but in the end, Sloane retained the heavyweight belt. The referee called the Angel of Death and John Henry Sykes to the center of the ring to go over the rules, which dont actually exist in professional wrestling, since everything is scripted. The Angel of Death locked eyes with John Henry Sykes. Part of his gimmick was to gaze at his opponents until they became mesmerized by his hypnotic stare. While they were in a dazed state, he would strike. But John Henry was having none of it. He turned away and shook off the effects. Then he spun back and caught the Angel of Death with a forearm to the face. And another. He followed those up with a standing dropkick, knocking the Angel of Death through the ropes and onto the floor. John Henry climbed through the ropes and leaped off the ring apron with a flying elbow. But the Angel of Death caught him in a chokehold and slammed him onto the announcers table. While John Henry lay stunned, the Angel of Death grabbed a metal folding chair, but the referee jumped out of the ring and took it away from him.

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The Angel of Death climbed back inside the ring. He pounded his chest and roared triumphantly, drawing unbelievable heat, or negative response, from the audience. John Henry slowly got to his feet and staggered up to the ring apron. But the Angel of Death grabbed him by the hair and rammed his head against the ring post. Then he dragged him back inside the ring and applied a vertical suplex. Yeah! Goose yelled, hopping to his feet. Get that dorky, choo-choo man! The Angel of Death went for a cover, but Sykes kicked out at two. He went for another vertical suplex, but this time, Sykes blocked it. He punched him with rights and lefts, followed by a kick to the stomach and a DDT. The match continued for about seven minutes. Finally, after the Angel of Death delivered a devastating clothesline, he picked up Sykes, draped him over his shoulder and readied him for the Death Drop Pile Driver. But Sykes reversed it and turned it into a backbreaker. With his opponent down, Sykes went for his finisher, the Derailer. He put the Angel of Deaths head between his legs, hooked his arms around his and locked his hands together. Sykes lifted him, and then dropped to the mat, slamming the Angel of Death on his back. He hooked a leg and made the cover. The referee counted to three and that was it. The winner of the match, in seven minutes, fortythree seconds . . . John Hen-ry Syyyk es! Dan Greenberg announced. The guys jaws fell open. What happened? Goose asked. Yeah, what happened? Bucky asked.

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Wendell sat up in his chair and gawked at Jesse. Did you know that Sykes was going to win tonight? Jesse stared at the television and nibbled on his Oreo cookie. Yeah, I guess. Has the ACW gone insane? Goose cried. Why did they have your dad job to Sykes? I dont know, Jesse lied. Its Frank Collinss show. He can run it anyway he wants. The only way hes gonna run it is to the ground, Goose complained. Yeah, the only way hes gonna run it is to the ground, Bucky repeated. John Henry Sykes exited the ring and slapped hands with the fans as he walked up the ramp. He was a rising star who was being given a tremendous push. By the time The Final Stand pay-per-view event rolled around, Jesse wouldnt be surprised to see John Henry fighting for the heavyweight belt. As for the Angel of Death, his future didnt look nearly as promising.

CHAPTER NINE
arly in the second quarter, the Deaf Smith Sidewinders were trailing the Jordan Jaguars, 7 to 3. As usual, Jesse was watching the game from the sidelines. Hey, Jesse! He looked up. TJ Masters had just arrived and was making his way toward Jesses grandparents. Jesse had forgotten that TJ had mentioned he was interested in coming to the game. At the time he thought TJ was just being polite. He didnt really expect him to show up. Jesse waved and then turned back to the game. Riley King fired a pass to Alberto Chapa, but a Jaguars safety speared Alberto in the gut before he could bring in the ball. Alberto grimaced in pain as he slowly rose to his feet. Riley threw his hands up as if to ask Alberto, why didnt you catch the ball? Alberto ignored him and made his way to the sidelines, holding his stomach. Since Jesse wasnt doing anything, he walked over to say hi to TJ, who met him at the railing. Thanks for coming, TJ. Sorry were not playing any better than this. Hey, no problem. Anyway, your drumline sounds awesome. Plus youve got some fine-looking cheerleaders. TJ wiggled his eyebrows. You date any of them? Nah, Jesse said, trying to sound indifferent.

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But youd like to, wouldnt you? Jesse smiled shyly. Maybe. TJ nudged his head in the direction of the sidelines. Whos the screamer? Riley was complaining to Coach Garca, one of the assistants. Riley pointed to the field, then to some of the players. His eyes bulged and his voice rose hysterically. Thats Riley King, our quarterback. Whats his problem? TJ asked. His jock strap too tight on him or something? Riley gets pretty worked up on the field, Jesse said. But thats only because were trying to make it to the playoffs. Hey, listen, how about going out for a pizza with me after the game? TJ said, changing the subject. My treat. The guys had invited Jesse to eat at Taco Cabana, but this was a much better offer. Yeah, sure, if my grandparents say its okay. TJ Masters was six years older than Jesse, but he looked young enough to pass for a high school student. Jesse didnt know him well, but he was flattered that TJ had asked him to hang out. Youd better get back to your team, TJ said. And tell Old Yeller to take a chill pill. With TJ in the audience, it was especially important to Jesse that he got in the game. He didnt know if his father had spoken to Coach Blaylock, but to Jesses surprise, the coach said yes when he asked him if he could play. On first down, Jesse snapped the ball to Riley without blowing it. He also got in a good block, which allowed Riley to throw a completed pass to Mitch Maloof, and they gained six yards. On the next play, the Sidewinders picked up a first down. Then another. The offense traveled down the

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field for forty-five yards before stalling at the seventeenyard line. The kicking team came on and Bucky scored a field goal. Coach Blaylock kept Jesse in the game for the rest of the half. At the start of the third quarter, however, the coach benched him and sent Sam Morales back in. The Sidewinders scored three more times in the second half and managed to beat the Jaguars in a close game, 27 to 24. Their chances for a district title had gotten brighter. Still, the Sidewinders would have to get past the Burnet Dragons, a team with a similar record, to become district champs. On the bus trip back to school, Jesse told the guys he was going out for pizza with TJ. He considered inviting them, but he didnt know if TJ would mind. The school parking lot was full of cars with parents waiting to pick up their kids. Jesse hadnt arranged a pickup point with TJ, so he wasnt sure where to look for him. Two short, car horn beeps caught Jesses attention. He turned and saw headlights flash on and off. TJ stepped out of a sleek, black car and waved. Hi, TJ. Cool car, Jesse said as he approached him. What kind is it? A Dodge Challenger. Wanna drive it? Jesse thought TJ was putting him on, until he tossed him the keys and said, Come on, lets see what you can do. But Ive only got a learners permit, Jesse said. TJ shrugged. I know, but your grandma said you drive pretty good. He came around the passenger side and got in. The only vehicle Jesse had ever driven was his grandmothers Honda CRV. He wasnt sure if he could handle

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TJs car. He slid in and strapped on his seatbelt. When he wrapped his fingers on the steering wheel, Jesse instantly sensed the power of the sporty, muscle car. He peered out the window, hoping the guys would see him. Um, youve got to put the key in the ignition to make it go, TJ teased. I was just trying to get a feel for your car, Jesse said. He turned on the ignition and drove toward the exit. When TJ saw the cheerleaders and drill team members getting off their bus, he told Jesse, Honk at them. Jesse gave the horn a couple of beeps. Claudia Gutirrez turned and stared at them. She started to wave, but then stopped and squinted, not sure if that was really Jesse behind the wheel. Jesse pulled up to the parking lot entrance. Which way? Turn right. At the second light, make a left. Where are we going? Just drive. Ill tell you when we get there. The speed limit was thirty-five, but Jesse drove a little under it, afraid of wrecking TJs car. He had driven at night, but only on the quiet streets in his neighborhood. Out here, because parents were picking up their kids, the traffic was heavy. But TJ didnt appear worried about Jesses driving. He upped the volume on his car radio and tapped out the beat to Money by Pink Floyd. Jesse made a left on Hanson Road, where the speed limit increased to forty-five. He had never driven that fast. Cars seemed to zoom toward him at a hundred miles an hour. The road was sparsely lit, and Jesse was terrified that he would crash. After about fifteen minutes, TJ said, Slow down. Were here. Pull over to the right.

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Jesse drove into the parking lot of a brown, brick building with a yellow neon sign that said ROMOs. Below the restaurants name, orange neon lights in the shape of a pizza blinked on and off. The parking lot was covered with gravel rocks that crackled under the wheels of the car. When Jesse and TJ entered the restaurant, they were immediately met by a strong scent of garlic and oregano. Soft Italian music played in the background. The tables were made out of thick wood and had benches instead of chairs. A few customers were scattered throughout the dimly lit room. Two huge, middle-aged men who looked like ex-pro wrestlers sat at the bar drinking beers. The men waved at TJ, who returned their waves with a soldiers salute. A woman wearing a red-and-white checkered shirt, tight jeans and cowboy boots welcomed them. Hello, Mona, TJ said. Say hi to Mark Barons kid, Jesse. Monas face lit up. Well, hi, sugar. You look just like your daddy. Jesse hoped Mona had seen his father without his skeleton-face make-up. She led them to a table and handed them a pair of menus. After Mona left, Jesse asked TJ who the men at the bar were. The one with the shaved head is John Romo. He owns the place. Monas his wife. John used to operate the Southwest Wrestling Association before it folded, so hes got a soft spot in his heart for pro wrestlers. A lot of the ACW boys like to eat here whenever theyre in town. The guy with him is Bulldog Danny Lane. He wrestled for John Romo years ago.

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Jesse glanced around the room. Dozens of wine bottles hung from the ceiling. A large mural of a Tuscany vineyard was painted on the back wall. A number of black-and-white photos, including one of boxing champ Rocky Marciano fighting Archie Moore, covered the wall behind them. I know, I know, TJ said, as if he could tell what Jesse was thinking. This place is a rats nest. But theyve got the best pizza in town. Coldest beer, too. Want one? His question took Jesse by surprise. TJ, Im not old enough to drink. TJ sat his menu down. I didnt ask if you were old enough, Jesse. I asked if you wanted a beer. I . . . Id better not, Jesse said, hoping he hadnt offended TJ by his refusal. Jesse had a birthday coming up in December, but he would only be turning seventeen, far from the legal drinking age. Besides, he didnt think the restaurant would sell him a beer without checking his ID. The Romos werent going to risk losing their business by selling alcohol to a minor. Jesse had a feeling TJ was testing him to see how he would react. Have you ever had a beer before? TJ asked, again catching him off-guard. Jesse wasnt sure if he could trust TJ with his secrets, but he didnt appear to be the snitching type. Bending his head toward him, Jesse said softly, If I tell you, will you promise not to tell my father? TJ raised three fingers. Scouts honor. Okay . . . once. TJ sat his elbow on the table and propped his chin on his fist. Well, dont just sit there, Jesse. Give me the details.

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Jesse looked around, wondering if anyone could hear him. Then he cleared his throat. My uncle Larry had a birthday party at his house one night. There was an ice chest full of beer in the kitchen, so my cousin Monty and I... Yall ready to order? Jesse gasped. The waitress voice almost jolted him out of his seat. She smiled, realizing she had startled him. TJ gave the menu a quick read. Pepperoni sound good to you, Jesse? Sure. And Ill have a Coke. TJ ordered a large pizza, a Coke and a beer. After the waitress left, Jesse finished telling TJ the story of his first drinking experience. A man should be able to have a beer if he wants, TJ said. As long as he drinks responsibly. Jesse agreed, except that legally, the State of Texas didnt recognize him as a man. Their conversation soon turned to football. That doesnt make any sense, TJ said when Jesse explained why Coach Blaylock wouldnt let him play. You arent gonna get better by standing on the sidelines. Look, Jesse, I play a jobber on ACW, right? But at least I get to wrestle. I cant learn my craft by standing at ringside, with my hands in my pockets. Ive gotta step inside the ropes, even if I have to go up against guys like Solomon Grimm, who like to wrestle stiff. TJ rubbed his chest, as if he could still feel the effects of Grimms brutal chops. The waitress returned with their drinks. TJ took a sip of his beer and continued. The problem with your team, Jesse, is that it has no sense of unity. Theres no discipline. First of all, youve got the screamer, whos allowed to pitch his little tantrums. Second, youve

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got a coach who doesnt know how to rotate his players. Sure, youve got an okay record, but if your team is serious about winning a state title, its gotta fix those things. Jesse nodded. There was nothing TJ told him that he didnt already know. It doesnt matter, TJ, because Im not planning to play football next year. Jesse ripped the paper off his straw and wadded it up. If he had been with the guys, he might have pulled the paper down from the straw like an accordion. Then he would have sat the paper on the table, poured a couple of drops of Coke on it and watched it expand. Jesses father had shown him that trick. He called it the worm. But at the moment, it seemed like a dumb, childish thing to do. TJ took another drink. Dont be so quick to give up on football, Jesse. Lots of things can happen between now and next season. I mean, look at you. Youre still growing. How much do you bench press? I dont know. About one eighty-five, one ninety. Not bad. Does your school have a pretty good workout facility? Yeah, I guess, Jesse said. Nothing fancy, but its all right. TJ downed the last of his beer. He lifted his glass and motioned for the waitress to bring him another one. The Brookstone Apartments where I live has a great gym with state-of-the-art equipment, he said. After we finish eating, Ill take you there to show it to you. Jesse could tell that TJ spent a lot of time working out. TJ stood six-three and weighed two-hundred forty pounds, but he was all muscle. He had a thick chest and huge biceps that stretched out his black golf shirt. In order to stay in top physical shape, wrestlers spend long hours exercising. When Jesses father was on the

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road, he generally worked out in the hotel gym, if it had one. If not, he would go to a local facility, like Golds Gym or Ballys. When he was home, he worked out at Ox Mulligans Pro Wrestling Factory, a wrestling school in San Antonio. Their pizza was brought out. While they ate, TJ talked about vitamins, body-building supplements and the importance of maintaining a proper diet. He laughed when Jesse asked him if pepperoni pizza and beer were on his list of nutritional foods. Most foods are okay as long as you eat them in moderation, TJ said. Moderation and a balanced diet, along with a good exercise program are vital to every athlete. TJ sounded like a real expert, and Jesse appreciated his advice. Listen, are you doing anything Saturday night? TJ asked. I dont think so. Why? UFCs coming to town, and Ive got two tickets for it, TJ said. This gal Ive sort of been seeing doesnt wanna go. You interested? Jesse wasnt a fan of mixed martial arts. In pro wrestling, wrestlers only pretend to beat each other up, but in MMA, they beat each other up for real. MMA matches were too violent for his taste. Still, he wasnt about to turn down TJs offer. Yeah, sure, Jesse said. Sounds like fun. TJ finished his beer. Come on, lets get out of here. I wanna show you my place before I take you home.

CHAPTER TEN
t was eleven-thirty by the time they left Romos. Jesse called home to let his grandmother know where he was. She wasnt happy about Jesse staying out so late, especially since it was a school night. She told him to tell TJ to take him home as soon as possible. Again, TJ let him drive his car. The Brookstone Apartments was a gated complex, so TJ had to give Jesse the code for the electronic gates. After Jesse punched in the numbers, the metal doors swung open, and TJ guided him to the gym. Treadmills, exercise bikes, dumbbells, benches, weight machines and elliptical cross trainers filled the gym. The room had floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Compared to TJs gym, the Sidewinders workout room looked like a dump. Jesse walked around the room, wide-eyed, touching all the equipment, like a little kid in a toy store. This is so cool, TJ, he said. Thanks. Its one of the perks of living here. TJ stood next to a weight machine. Come here. Lets see what you can lift. Jesses workout room had weight machines but nothing like the ones in TJs gym. He sat on the bench and tucked his knees under the padded bar. Gripping the overhead bar, he pulled it down. The weight was heavier

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than he had expected, and he struggled to bring the bar to his chest. Woo! TJ said. Were gonna have to work on building your muscles. Jesse released the bar. How much weight was that? Im not gonna embarrass you by telling you how much you pulled, TJ said. Lets just say that you could use some weight training. Jesse rose from the bench without checking to see how many pounds were on the machine. TJ saying that he didnt want to embarrass him, embarrassed him. Afterwards, TJ took him to his apartment. To Jesses surprise, the apartment was clean and neat. In the living room was a black leather couch with a matching ottoman. A large, flat-screen TV hung on the wall across the room. A long bookcase sat below the TV. TJ had a few Stephen King novels, as well as books on martial arts. He also had stacks of comic books and graphic novels. A countertop with two barstools separated the kitchen from the dining room. In place of a table, the dining room had a set of drums. Behind the drums, the wall was covered with wrestling masks. TJ opened the refrigerator door and took out two beer bottles. Ready for one now? No, thanks, Jesse said. Hed had a great evening, but something didnt feel right about drinking a beer with TJ. TJ shrugged and put one of the bottles back. I didnt know you play the drums, Jesse said. Yeah, but not like I used to. TJ sat on a barstool and sipped his beer. When I was in high school, I was a band nerd. I played the drums for the Mackenzie Mustangs Marching Band in Amarillo.

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I used to play the drums, too, Jesse said. We lived in St. Louis for a while, and I joined my schools band. I wanted to learn how to play the trumpet, but my band director stuck me in the percussion section. Drumsticks are right there, TJ said, pointing with his bottle. Lets see what you can do. Jesse picked up the sticks and sat on a stool behind the drums. He banged on them, and then stopped when he realized how late it was. He didnt want to disturb the neighbors. Back in high school, a couple of my buddies and I formed a rock band, TJ said. We called ourselves Midnight Dreams. We even got a few gigs at school functions and stuff. We were gonna be famous rock stars and tour the world. Then reality set in. We graduated and went our separate ways. My father used to have a band, too, Jesse said. But I dont know if they called themselves anything. Hey, since you play the guitar, maybe you can bring it over sometime and we can jam together. Jesse told TJ hed take him up on his offer. They pulled out their cell phones and exchanged numbers. Where did you get all the masks? Jesse asked, staring at the dining room wall. I bought most of them at a little shop near the Alamo. But some of the better quality masks I got from the wrestlers who wore them. TJ pointed to a red and white mask. Solomon Grimm gave me that one. Its one of the masks he wore when he wrestled as Kronos. Carlos Montoya gave me one of his Azteca Dorado masks. I guess he wont need his masks anymore once he becomes Brother Jeremiah. Of course, you recognize that one. TJ pointed to Jesses fathers old Annihilator mask. Now

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over here are masks of famous Mexican luchad ores who were around long before your time. That one is . . . I know who they are, Jesse said. That one is Blue Demon. This other one is Mil Mscaras. And of course, everyone knows El Santo. TJ smiled. Im impressed. My father told me about them, Jesse said. Hes a huge fan of lucha libre . When we were in Mexico City on vacation, he introduced me to the Mexican wrestling promotion, Consejo Mundial de Lucha Libre, and we went to the Arena Mxico to watch the matches. Jesse marveled at all the masks. Youve got an awesome collection, TJ. Thanks. Glad you like them. Tell you what. Pick any mask you want and its yours. Jesse had dozens of wrestling action figures but no masks, except for his fathers Annihilator ones. He scrutinized each one. He liked Don Jardines mask that he wore when he wrestled as the Spoiler. The Rey Misterio mask was pretty awesome-looking, too. But there was one that especially caught his eye. Can I have the Mil Mscaras mask? Sure. TJ pulled out the push pin that held the mask and took it down. Mil Mscaras, the man of a thousand masks, supposedly wore a different mask each time he wrestled. The one TJ gave Jesse was a metallic-silver color with black, jagged trim around the eyes, nose and mouth, and black triangular lines on the top. The mask had a red M in the middle, above the eye slits. TJ directed Jesses attention to the photographs on the wall behind the couch. I snapped those when I took a photography class in high school. I wanted to be a photographer when I grew up, but instead I decided to

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become a wrestler, something my pops has never let me forget. TJ stuck his nose up in the air. My pops is too hoity-toity to watch wrestling. Know what I mean? He sat on the couch and took another swig of his beer. Jesse sat on the ottoman in front of him. How did you get into wrestling, anyway? Did you play sports in high school? No, Jesse. Like I said, I was a band nerd. But I was also a huge ACW mark. I watched it all the time. Who knew that Id be wrestling for them one day? TJ sat his beer bottle on an end table and leaned back on the couch with his hands clasped behind his head. Some of my buddies and I were into backyard wrestling. One of the guys, Pete Zagarenski, used to have a professional wrestling ring that his pops found on ebay. We formed a federation called Ultimate Backyard Wrestling. We tried to imitate the kinds of things we saw wrestlers do on TV. I mean, we hit each other with chairs and threw each other through tables. Wed climb up Petes roof and jump off onto each other. TJ shook his head and laughed. Man, we did some crazy stuff back then. Jesse had heard about backyard wrestling from his father. It was something kids all across the country were doing. His father didnt think much of it. He said that kids who participated in backyard wrestling were stupid because they were attempting dangerous stunts without any training or supervision. Even professional wrestlers, he said, with extensive preparation and conditioning, always risked getting seriously hurt. Anyway, after graduation my pops wanted me to go to college, TJ said. Hes a hot shot attorney in Amarillo, and he wanted me to study law. But I barely made it through high school, and there was no way I was gonna

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survive through law school. So I decided to go into pro wrestling. I Googled wrestling schools and found the Ox Mulligan Pro Wrestling Factory here in San Antonio. Now Im a superstar on American Championship Wrestling. TJ picked up his bottle and finished his beer. And theres nothing my pops can do about it, he added with disdain. I take it that you and your father dont get along, Jesse said. Oh, we get along fine. As long as he stays in his part of the state and I stay in mine. Jesse checked the time. It was ten after twelve. I have to go. Yeah, okay. TJ pulled his keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Jesse. Ill let you do the honors. Jesse was glad he hadnt asked the guys to join them. It wouldnt have been nearly as much fun. The guys were all right. There was nothing wrong with them. Goose was kind of goofy, though. And Buckys high-pitched voice sometimes grated on Jesses nerves. He realized that Wendell was trying to lose weight, but his body was full of flab that jiggled when he walked. Jesse didnt want TJ to think that he hung out with a bunch of losers. On the way home, they neared Jesses school. Theres good old Erastus Deaf Smith High, TJ said. No offense, Jesse, but thats gotta be the weirdest name for a high school Ive ever heard. Actually, we pronounce it Deef Smith, Jesse corrected him. All right. Deef Smith High. Who was he, anyway? Jesse pulled the car to the curb and stopped in front of the school. Im not sure. Some famous guy from the Texas Revolution, I think. Didnt you study about him in school?

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If we did, I dont remember, TJ said. Anyway, thats him up there. Jesse pointed to the life-size statue of Deaf Smith, a figure in a long coat with a rifle at his side. The statue stood on a pedestal at the top of the steps. Serious-looking man, isnt he? TJ said. I guess. I walk by the statue so often, I hardly notice it anymore. An impish grin spread across TJs face. Hey, Jesse. You ever pull any ribs? What do you mean? You know, pranks, practical jokes. The ACW boys love to pull ribs on each other. Like the time Karl Nelson was about to go out for his match, and Red Lassiter hid his Black Mamba mask. Karl went ballistic. He tore up the dressing room trying to find it. Finally Frank Collins threatened to fine whoever it was that took Karls mask if they didnt give it back. Jesse had heard that story from his fatherand many others. Wrestlers spend a lot of time on the road together, and sometimes, just for the fun of it, or out of boredom, theyll rib each other. TJ picked up the Mil Mscaras mask and said, I dare you to climb up the statue and put the mask on Deaf Smith. No way, man, Jesse said, but the idea made him laugh. Come on, Jesse. Ill get you another one. Its dark out here. Nobodyll see you do it. If a car passes by, Ill honk. Jesse looked around. The streets were empty. Most of the neighbors were probably asleep. He giggled nervously. Do it, Jesse, TJ coaxed. Lets give old Deaf Smith something to smile about.

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Why not? Jesse thought. TJ wasnt telling him to tag the statue or destroy it. Plus, it would be hilarious for the kids who saw it the next morning. He took the mask and opened the car door. TJ shooed him away with the back of his hand. Go on. Feeling a rush of excitement, Jesse climbed the steps and shinnied up the statue. He tried to slip the mask around the head, but the mask was too small. He undid the laces and tried it again. The mask wasnt secure, but it would do. When Jesse turned around, he saw TJ standing at the bottom of the steps, holding up his camera phone. Wait, Jesse. Dont move. TJ pressed the button. I want us to have something to commemorate the evening.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
he next morning, Jesse arrived at school forty-five minutes earlier than usual. He wanted to see the kids reactions when they saw Deaf Smith wearing a Mil Mscaras mask. Ordinarily, he caught the bus, but he talked his grandmother into driving him. He made up a story about how he needed to get to school early to speak with a counselor about his classes for the next semester. His grandmother dropped him off in front of the building without noticing that Deaf Smith now looked like a Mexican wrestler. Soon the buses began to arrive. As the kids got out, their eyes and mouths widened. They giggled and pointed at the statue. Some of the kids pulled out their camera phones and took pictures. By the end of the day, the photos would be all over the Internet. Later, Jesse would tell the guys that he was the one who had put the mask on the statue, but he had to be careful not to let too many people know. Jesses excitement over his rib didnt last long. Dr. Ros, the principal, walked out the front doors with Lester Marrs, the head custodian. Lester was carrying a ladder. He leaned his ladder against the statue and climbed up. The kids booed when he yanked off the mask.

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Jos Bernal shouted, Put the mask on, Lester! Other voices joined him. Put the mask on! Put it on! Lester grinned. He waved the mask in the air like a flag. He was about to slip it over his head, but Dr. Ros glared at him. Instead, Lester climbed down the ladder and handed the mask to the principal. During first period, while Jesse was in the middle of English class, trying to stay awake through a reading of The Grapes of Wrath, Lashundra Jones walked in the room and handed the teacher a note. Mrs. Dowell looked up from the rim of her reading glasses and said, Jesse, Dr. Ros needs to see you right away. Jesse didnt bother to ask why. He was pretty sure he knew what the principal wanted. He took the note from Lashundra and headed to the office. Mrs. Castillo, the office manager, told him to have a seat while she notified Dr. Ros. A few moments later, she returned and told Jesse that the principal was ready to see him. When Jesse entered the principals office, Dr. Ros was clicking away at the keys on his computer. The Mil Mscaras mask sat on his desk. Dr. Ros paused to read what he had just typed. His face grew pensive, and he made a grunting sound. He scratched his bristly mustache and typed some more. Then he smiled satisfactorily and saved his work. He looked up and said, Good morning, Jesse. Please sit down. Dr. Ros clasped his chubby fingers together and placed his hands on top of his desk. Are you keeping up with your studies? Making good grades? Theyre all right, Jesse said, but that wasnt what Dr. Ros wanted to know. If he was interested in Jesses grades, all he had to do was look them up on his computer.

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I watched you play last night, Dr. Ros said. You made a couple of pretty good blocks. Thank you, sir. I just wish Coach Blaylock would give me a little more playing time. Dr. Ros nodded, and his eyes took on a sympathetic look. Your grandfather has called the school several times to share your concern, and Ive spoken to Coach Blaylock about it. Thats probably why you got to play last night. Maybe next week Coach Blaylock will give you even more time on the field. That was good to hear, but Jesse couldnt help wonder if his father had ever called Coach Blaylock, or if that was another one of those promises he had failed to keep. What do you generally do after your games, Jesse? Dr. Ros asked in a more serious tone. Jesse shrugged, pretending he didnt know what Dr. Ros was getting at. Usually I go home with my grandparents. Sometimes a few of us guys go out to eat. Dr. Ros leaned forward and asked, Is that what you did last night, Jesse? Go out to eat with . . . the guys? Um, no, Jesse replied calmly. One of my fathers friends, a wrestler named TJ Masters, took me out to dinner. Oh? That piece of information threw Dr. Ros off. He blinked several times behind his thick glasses. He pushed himself back in his chair and rested his hands on his ample belly. TJ Masters. Didnt he wrestle this past Monday night? Yes, sir. Dr. Ros snickered. He didnt fare too well against Solomon Grimm, did he? No, sir. I guess he didnt. Jesse knew Dr. Ros was a wrestling fan. The one time Jesses father came to the

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school, Dr. Ros recognized him right away, even without the skeleton-face make-up. Dr. Ros picked up the mask. Jesse, do you know anything about this? What did Dr. Ros expect him to say? Sure, I k now w hat it is. Its the Mil Mscaras mask I put on the Deaf Sm ith statue last night. Looks like a wrestling mask, sir, Jesse said. Mil Mscaras, Dr. Ros said. This morning Lester discovered it on the head of the Deaf Smith statue. Do you have any idea how it got there? The principal was fishing. He didnt have anything. I guess someone put it on the statue, sir. Of course someone put it on the statue, Dr. Ros roared. Whoever did it must have done it last night after the game. He suspected Jesse, but he didnt have any proof. Jesse decided to turn the tables on him. Wait a minute. Are you telling me that just because my fathers a wrestler, I put the mask on the statue? Dr. Ross eyelids fluttered. No, its just that . . . It couldve been anyone, Jesse said. Theres a shop near the Alamo that sells those masks. Sir, most of the kids in school watch wrestling. The mask could belong to any of them. I cant believe that the first person you suspected was me. No, that . . . thats not it at all, Dr. Ros stammered. Its just that since you were here last night, I thought you might have seen something suspicious. Like I told you, sir, Jesse said, trying to sound offended, last night I went out for a pizza with TJ Masters. We went to Romos on Hanson Road. Ill have him call you to prove that Im telling the truth.

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Dr. Ros smiled awkwardly. He rose from his chair and came around his desk. That wont be necessary, Jesse. I apologize for the misunderstanding. Lets just forget the whole thing. Ill have Mrs. Castillo write you a hall pass so you can return to your class. Jesse glanced down at the mask. For a second, he considered asking Dr. Ros if he could have it, but that would really be pushing it. He opened the door to let himself out. Just so you wont have any doubt, Ill have TJ Masters call you so he can verify where I was last night. Out in the hallway, Jesses insides bubbled with glee. This had been fun. He loved the look on the principals fat face. Jesse pulled out his cell phone and made a call. TJ, hi, its me, Jesse. Listen, can you do me a favor?

CHAPTER TWELVE
n their way to the field house, Jesse told the guys about his evening with TJ, and about how he had put the wrestling mask on the statue. He also told them that TJ had invited him to the UFC matches at the Alamodome. So youre hanging out with that jobber now? Goose asked scornfully. Dont call him that, Jesse said. Just because TJ plays a jobber on TV doesnt mean hes not a tough guy in real life. In a shoot fight, he could probably beat up half the guys in the locker room. Jesse didnt know if that was true, but it bugged him that Goose kept referring to TJ as a jobber. Jesse might be right, Wendell said. I read on the Internet that a lot of jobbers are actually better fighters than the guys they go up against. Take Iron Mike Sullivan, for example. When was the last time he won a match? But I bet Ice Man Sloane wouldnt last two minutes with him in a shoot fight. And Sloanes the ACW heavyweight champ. Maybe, Goose said, unconvinced, but Masters is still a jobber. I swear, the moment he comes out on TV, the first thing I wanna do is change the channel. He smiled

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smugly and asked Jesse, What does TJ stand for, anyway? The Jobber? Thats a good one, Goose, Bucky said. What does TJ stand for, Jesse? The Jobber? The guys laughed, which irked Jesse even more. Man, if I was gonna hang around with wrestlers, Id hang out with cool guys, like Jason Cage or Kid Dynamo, Goose went on. I wouldnt waste my time with . . . The Jobber. Yeah, well if those guys had offered me a free ticket to the UFC matches, Id be going with them, but they didnt, Jesse said. Sometimes, listening to Goose run his mouth got on Jesses nerves. Hed known him and Wendell since middle school, when he moved to San Antonio. At the time, Goose and Wendell were huge ACW marks. As soon as they discovered that his father was the Angel of Death, they clung to him like cats on a tree. They wanted to know the inside scoop on pro wrestling. The guys figured wrestling wasnt real, but they werent sure how it worked. They wanted to know how wrestlers could get beaten up night after night and not be permanently maimed. Jesse had continued to hang out with Goose and Wendell in high school because of football. Bucky joined their group because Wendell had befriended him. But Jesse found Buckys high-pitched voice irritating. In fact, he was beginning to find all three guys irritating. When he arrived home, Jesse emailed his mother to tell her about the Sidewinders win, and about going to Romos with TJ. Naturally, he left out the part about putting the wrestling mask on the Deaf Smith statue. Jesse also didnt tell her that he had gone to TJs apartment. He

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didnt think she would mind. Still, he decided not to mention it. He didnt tell his grandparents or his father that he had been to TJs apartment, either. As far as they were concerned, he and TJ had spent the entire evening at Romos. Jesse asked his mother if she was still seeing Homer Mondragn. She said she was but still insisted that they were just friends. She told Jesse that he would get to meet him in a few weeks, when he flew to Dallas for Thanksgiving. Jesses heart sank. He had planned to spend Thanksgiving with his mother, not with some dorky algebra teacher horning in on their time. Was his mother so desperate for companionship that she would date the first guy who asked her out? What was wrong with her? There was no way Jesse would fly to Dallas now. Not with Homer Simpson in the picture. He told his mother he was sorry, but that he wouldnt be able to spend Thanksgiving with her. He said he had a huge science project due after the Thanksgiving break, and that he would have to spend all that week working on it. His mother wrote back to say she was disappointed she wouldnt get to see him, but she understood. Jesse knew she would. She was a teacher. While he was writing to his mother, he received an email from TJ, who sent the photo he had taken of Jesse and the Deaf Smith statue. Jesse laughed out loud when he saw it. TJ added a message that read: I spoke to your warden. The man sounds like a toad. Does he look like one? See you tomorrow night. TJ Jesse printed TJs photo and thumbtacked it to his bulletin board. His grandparents and father seldom went into his room, so he didnt have to worry that they might see it.

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At six-thirty Saturday evening, TJ arrived at Jesses house. Before leaving for the UFC matches, Jesses grandmother told TJ not to keep Jesse out late the way he did the last time. I cant sleep unless I know hes home. You dont have to worry about Jesse, Mrs. Baron, TJ said. Hes in good hands with me. Ill bring him home as soon as the matches are over. TJ didnt have many friends. The guys hed grown up withDanny Barrow, Pete Zagarenski, Eddie Moreno had all gone off in different directions. The only friends he had in the ACW were Mark Baron, Carlos Montoya and Chris Choate. But Chris lived in Indianapolis, and Mark and Carlos were kind of old to be hanging out with. Jesse was much closer to his age. TJ would show him how to have a good time. He would do things with Jesse that he wished his pops had done with him. TJs father was Brett Masters, the chief felony prosecutor in the Potter County District Attorneys Office in Amarillo. His job was to put away the bad guys, to get them off the streets, to lock them up. He didnt have a problem dealing with criminals until his own son was arrested for shoplifting. When TJ was fifteen, he had been caught stealing a video game from the GameStop store at the Westgate Mall. TJ could have afforded to buy the game, but he decided to take it for the thrill, to see if he could get away with it. He never noticed the plain-clothes cop who was watching him. As a favor to his father, the police handed TJ over to him. An embarrassed and irate Brett Masters blasted TJ, telling him that he had brought shame and disgrace to the family. Do you want to end up in prison with the low lifes I have to put up with, Tristan? Thats where youre headed if you dont watch it.

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Reflecting back on the incident, TJ thought, No, pops, Im not. Im gonna be a main-eventer on ACW, youll see. Im gonna be famous. And Im gonna mak e more money than you ever w ill. TJs father hated professional wrestling, which he called the lowest form of entertainment on television. He wouldnt let TJ watch it on their large-screen TV in the den because he didnt want that trash soiling the beauty of their precious family room. But that hadnt stop TJ from watching Mond ay Night Mayhem on the small TV in his bedroom. Or from watching mixed martial arts on Tuesday nights. Thousands of excited fans filled the Alamodome. Jesse didnt see an empty seat in the arena. He had no idea MMA was so popular. But then, this was a pay-per-view event, and it was being televised nationwide. They sat at ringside, five rows up from the octagon cage. TJ had gotten the tickets from Carlos Montoya, who had to give them up because, at the last minute, he had been booked to wrestle at a house show in Los Angeles. TJ skimmed through the program of the nights line up. Danny Mojicas fighting Vic Venom Chesky for the heavyweight title in the main event, he told Jesse. But the guy I really wanna see is Judson Tanner. Judson used to wrestle for Star-Spangled Wrestling when I worked there. Hes a big mouth who thinks he can compete in MMA. Hes been lucky so far. But tonight, hes going up against a real fighting machine, Paul the Razor Rankin. I cant wait to see Rankin destroy him. Since Jesse didnt follow mixed martial arts, he had no idea who TJ was talking about.

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The first bout featured a light-heavyweight match between Joel Mercer and Bruno Powers. Mercer came out swinging, but Powers quickly took him down. He mounted Mercer and swung at him with wild punches. Mercer tried to roll out, but Powers stayed on top of him, connecting with solid fists to Mercers face. A cut opened below Mercers right eyebrow, and blood poured down his cheek. Powers kept up the attack until the referee stepped in and stopped the fight. The match was over in fifty-two seconds. The crowd leaped to its feet, clapping and cheering. The referee raised Bruno Powers hand in victory, while the ring doctor climbed inside the cage to check on Mercer, who was bleeding profusely. In pro wrestling, despite what the audience thinks it sees, wrestlers work hard to protect each other from getting hurt. Unlike cage fighters, like Mercer and Powers, pro wrestlers know they are entertainers, and they understand that their role is to put on a show for the crowd, not to prove how tough they are. The second bout pitted two middleweight fighters, Arlis McCoy and Steven Ortiz. Early in the first round, Ortiz, who had a background in Muay Thai boxing, landed a good body kick, followed by three quick jabs. He went for a spinning kick, but McCoy caught his leg and took him down. Ortiz rolled away and hopped to his feet. McCoy charged Ortiz, slammed him against the cage and grabbed him in a guillotine choke. Ortiz picked him up and dropped him on the mat, but McCoy didnt break the hold. He tightened the choke as Ortiz struggled in vain to break it. Finally, Ortiz tapped out in just over a minute. These were the two fastest bouts Jesse had ever seen. In pro wrestling, even squash matches are given more

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time. But then again, Jesse thought, MMA fights arent scripted. Judsons next, TJ said. I bet he doesnt even last as long in the cage as Mercer and Ortiz did. Minutes later, Judson Tanner, flanked by his trainers, walked down the aisle. TJ jumped out of his seat and stood along the protective railing as Judson Tanner neared him. Hey, Tanner! TJ shouted. How does it feel knowing that the Razors gonna leave your face looking like a cheap pizza? Judson Tanner stopped and glared at TJ. Strong words coming from a jobber. Maybe after Im done with Rankin, Ill invite you to step inside the cage with me. Ooh, Im scared, TJ said, wiggling his fingers. Have you forgotten how I used to beat you week after week when we were in SSW? You never beat me, you idiot, Tanner said. Thats the way our matches were booked. This is real fighting, now, Masters. Im not an actor, like you. Now sit down before I smash your face. TJ reached out and shoved Tanner. Show me what you got, punk! Tanner lunged at TJ, but his trainers quickly pulled him back. Three security guards immediately rushed down the aisle and grabbed TJ. TJ tried to push them off. Get your hands off me, you rent-a-cops. Im TJ Masters. Im an ACW wrestler! Jesse didnt think TJ really wanted to fight Judson Tanner. He was just ribbing him. Unfortunately, the security guards didnt see it that way. One of the guards clamped a headlock on TJ, and he and the others dragged him up the aisle, with TJ scream-

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ing something about a lawsuit. Jesse followed them, wondering what would to happen to TJ. TJ was taken to a group of San Antonio police officers, who were standing in the corridor by the concession stands. This guys causing trouble, a security guard told the officers. Get im outta here. Without hesitation, one of the officers pointed toward the exit doors and said, Okay, pal. Lets go. TJ tried pleading his case, but the officer wasnt interested in listening to TJs explanation. Go home, or go to jail, he said firmly. TJ pressed down the wrinkles on his shirt and brushed his sleeves with his hands. Come on, Jesse, lets blow this place. The nights still young. Well find something better to do. When they reached the exit door, TJ smiled and shrugged. What can I say? If you always follow the rules, youll miss all the fun.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
hen Jesse arrived home from church Sunday afternoon, he heard his fathers deep voice resonating from the bathroom. The door was open so Jesse peeked inside. For it has been written, for it has been said: on the Day of Judgment, fire will rain upon you, and you shall . . . Dad? His father whipped his head around, startled. His hair was wet, and a Just For Men hair color box and applicator sat on the counter. At forty-five, Jesses fathers gray hair was coming in fast. Oh, hi, champ. I, uh, was just trying out some material I might use when I become Elijah Nightshade. Jesse sighed, realizing that his mother had been right. In his mind, he heard her say, Your father w ill continue to w restle no matter w hat rid iculous gimmick the ACW pins on him . So youre still planning to go through with the new gimmick? Jesse asked, disappointed. His father wiped his forehead with a towel, then wrapped the towel around his neck. Yeah, I thought Id give it a try. Anyway, if the Elijah Nightshade character doesnt work out, Ill consider other options.

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Jesse wondered if the other options included retirement. He didnt think so. How did your match go last night? he asked. His father made a face. I jobbed to Red Lassiter. Oh. Sorry. At least I didnt have to job cleanly. I lost by disqualification. Jesses father studied his reflection in the mirror as he ran his fingers along the sides of his head. Thats the direction my storyline is taking. According to the script writers, Im supposed to grow frustrated that I cant win a match, so Ill take my anger out on my opponents. Ill beat them up, ignoring the refs five-count, until I get disqualified. Ill still have to job matches, just not by clean pins. Jesse thought Mr. Collins was being smart. If the Angel of Death lost matches only by disqualification, he would still be able to maintain his credibility as a monster heel. That way the fans would continue to be interested in him after he became Elijah Nightshade. Creative hasnt worked out all the details yet, but part one of my transformation will take place in a couple of weeks on the Monday night show, Jesses father said. Then Ill make my first appearance as Elijah Nightshade at Check m ate , the next pay-per-view. He removed his clear-plastic gloves and tossed them in the trashcan. Then he and Jesse walked out of the bathroom and sat at the dining table while he let the color set. By the way, champ. Me and the boys saw what happened between TJ and Judson Tanner at the UFC matches last night. You did? It was on TV. We were watching the pay-per-view backstage at the Staples Center. Next thing we know, TJs picking a fight with Tanner. The boys thought it was hilar-

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ious that a jobber like TJ would challenge a legit tough guy to a fight. Well, TJs pretty tough, too, isnt he? Jesse asked, thinking back to his conversation with the guys. I mean, just because hes booked as a jobber doesnt mean he cant fight, right? I honestly dont know how tough he is, Jesses father said. TJ claims to have gotten involved in a number of shoot fights when he wrestled in the indies, but the boys think its just a lot of talk. They give him a hard time backstage, partly because of his age, but also because of his arrogance. TJ acts as if hes on the same level as the veterans, which they resent. Jesses father took another swipe at his forehead with the towel. Did I tell you about what happened when TJ was bragging about his work in the indies? Bronko Savage got so fed up with him that he grabbed TJs gear and threw it out of the locker room. Bronko told TJ that he hadnt earned the right to dress with the boys, so TJ had to get ready for his match in the hallway. He wasnt even allowed to take a shower afterwards. A look of consternation filled Jesses face. TJ hadnt mentioned anything about his relationship with the boys. Jesse assumed that he got along with everyone. I took TJ under my wing because I remember the days when I started out, and I didnt have anyone to guide me. Pro wrestling may be entertainment, but its still a brutal business to work in. Jesses grandmother entered the dining room and told them to wash their hands because lunch was almost ready. Jesse and his father made their way back to the bathroom. Anyway, Frank loved the free publicity the ACW got from the altercation, Jesses father said. Especially because a clip of it was shown on ESPN. What made it

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even more significant was that Tanner knocked out Rankin, one of the UFCs best fighters. Now, Franks hoping to capitalize on the incident by setting up a match between TJ and Judson Tanner at a future pay-per-view. Really? Jesse couldnt believe TJ was about to receive a pusha huge onein a pay-per-view match, no less. He grabbed the soap bar from the dish and washed his hands. Jesses father took another look at his reflection. TJ mustve been born under a lucky star, he said. Hes only been with the company a short time, but already, hes about to move up the ACW ladder. He paused. I hope that doesnt cause problems for him. Some of the boys who have been with the company a lot longer than TJ might not be too happy about it. Jesse moved away from the sink, leaving the water running for his father. While he dried his hands, he asked, So what if the boys dont like it, Dad? I mean, youre always talking about how wrestlers have to do something to stand out, to get noticed, if they want to make it in the business. Jesses father held his head under the faucet with the water running. Get me the shampoo from the shower, would you? Jesse opened the shower door, grabbed the shampoo bottle from the caddy and handed it to him. His father squirted shampoo on his head and lathered his hair. Dont misunderstand me, champ. I want TJ to succeed in the ACW. Its just that he needs to tone down his attitude a notch or two. He needs to work a little harder at endearing himself with the boys. Why did TJ need to do that? To Jesse it sounded as if some of the boys were jealous of him. Maybe what they really didnt like was that TJ was twenty-two years old,

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and many of the boys, including Bronko Savage, were approaching middle age. Maybe they considered TJ a threat, someone who might one day take their spot. The way Jesse saw it, TJ was the future of the company, and those old guys, even his father, were part of the past. What about Jacob Sloane, Dad? Jesse asked. You said that most of the boys dont like him. But nobody throws his clothes out of the locker room, do they? Nobody makes Sloane get dressed in the hallway. Jesses father dried his hair with his towel. The difference, champ, is that Sloane sells tickets. And plenty of merchandise. Yeah, hes a jerk, but the fans love him. They buy into his baby face persona. Sloane may not be the most popular guy in the locker room, but he makes a lot of money for the company, which translates into more money for the boys. They made their way back to the dining room. Iced tea glasses had been placed on the table. From the kitchen, Jesse could hear his grandparents singing Victory in Jesus. Look, champ, I dont mind that you went out to eat with TJ the other night, or that he took you to the UFC matches, Jesses father said. But I want you to be careful around him. TJs got a bit of a wild streak. Hes been on his own for a while, and he pretty much lives his life the way he wants. Jesse was getting sick of listening to his father badmouthing his friend. Dad, TJs a grown man. Shouldnt he be able to live his life the way he wants? Of course hes a grown man. But thats just it, champ. Youre only fifteen . . . Sixteen, Jesse corrected him. Ill be turning seventeen in December.

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His fathers eyelids batted self-consciously. Trying not to act rattled over having forgotten how old his son was, he took a sip of his iced tea. Still, TJs a lot older than you are. Youre probably better off spending time with kids your age. Do you understand what Im saying? Dad, TJ and I didnt do anything wrong, Jesse said. He just took me out to eat Friday night and to watch the fights yesterday, thats all. Jesse didnt mention that TJ had gotten kicked out of the Alamodome or what they did afterwards. When they left the arena, Jesse and TJ stopped to pick up burgers at a Jack in the Box. Then they drove on Highway 90 because TJ wanted to show Jesse the Dominguez State Jail. On an access road near the jail, TJ spotted a DO NOT PICK UP HITCHHIKERS sign. He thought the sign would look great in his apartment, so he decided to pull it up and take it. Jesse and TJ got out of the car and rocked the sign post back and forth until they were able to loosen the concrete base from the ground. They yanked the sign out and heaved it into the back seat of TJs car. Once they got to the apartment, TJ washed the sign in the bathtub and stood it in his dining room, next to his drums. As for the age difference, Dad, Jesse continued, youre way older than TJ, but you still hang out with him, dont you? Jesses father furrowed his brows. Just be careful with him, champ. You hear? Jesse gave him a silent stare. Then he drank his tea without making further comments.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ednesday morning, Jesse received a text from TJ inviting him to a Halloween party Saturday night at the Brookstone Apartments clubhouse. He also invited Jesse to work out with him at the gym after school. Jesse wanted to go, but he had football practice, and practice wouldnt end until five-thirty. After that, he would have to go home for supper. As soon as he finished eating, his grandmother was going to take him driving. He didnt have any free time. Unless he skipped football practice. Jesse didnt think Coach Blaylock would notice if he didnt show up. Their last game was against the Burnet Dragons, the only team standing between the Sidewinders and the district championship. More than likely, Coach Blaylock would be focused on his starting players, not on the benchwarmers. Jesse answered TJ and told him to pick him up in front of his school at two-twenty. At lunchtime, he explained to the guys why he wouldnt be at practice. What is it with you and The Jobber? Goose asked. He winked at Wendell and Bucky. Is he your special BFF?

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Watch yourself, Goose, Jesse warned. Youre starting to walk on dangerous grounds. Wendell looked up from his plate of baked chicken and mixed vegetables he had brought from home. You know, Jesse, technically, youre still in school, even when you go to practice. So if you take off with TJ Masters, youll be skipping school. You know that, dont you? Jesse glared at him. What do you care, man? Are you going to snitch me out to Coach Blaylock? Wendell flinched. No, Jesse. Its just that I dont want you to get in trouble. Im not going to get in trouble, Jesse said. Unless you snitch me out. Besides, Ill still be exercising, except that Ill be getting trained by a guy whos an expert. And well be using real equipment instead of that outdated junk in the field house. Goose looked distracted. He gazed across the cafeteria and raised a hand. Who are you waving at? Wendell asked. I dont know. Some chick over theres waving at us. You guys know who she is? Jesse turned around. Yeah. Thats Wally Mora. No, man, Goose said, frowning. Not the dude with the San Antonio Spurs jersey. The bald chick behind him. Thats her name. Wally Mora. Are you kidding me? Goose said. What kind of parents would name their daughter Wally? Maybe they got the idea from that singer who wrote a song about a boy named Sue, Wendell joked. Jesse explained to the guys about Wally and Duck. Hey, if you want another dog, I know a guy who breeds pit bulls, Goose said. I can get you one, if youd like.

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I dont think so, Jesse said. If I was to get a pit bull, it would probably eat my grandparents dog, Pollo, for lunch and their cat, Gremlin, for dessert. He watched Wally and some other girls get up from their table to dump their trash. Goose noticed Jesse staring at Wally. Hey, if youre interested in that bald chick, maybe you can bring her to my party. What party? Jesse asked. Goose slurped the last of his milk. Come on, Jesse. We talked about it. Im having a Halloween party at my house Saturday night. Everybodys gonna be there. Buckys even bringing Shrek along. Man, stop calling Melissa Dugan Shrek, Bucky griped. Sorry, Goose, Jesse said. I cant make it. Why not? TJs already invited me to a party at his apartment clubhouse Saturday night. Goose rolled his eyes. So youre telling me youd rather go to The Jobbers party than mine? Jesse stood and grabbed his lunch tray. Yeah, thats exactly what Im telling you. Later, guys.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
fter Spanish class, Jesse rushed out of the building. TJ was waiting for him in front of the school. Before we go to the gym, we need to make a stop at the store, TJ said. Have you got any money on you? Jesse checked his wallet. Thirty-two bucks. Why? Cause Im gonna help you buy everything youll need to build your muscles. TJ drove to the Rivercenter Mall. The place was busier than Jesse had expected for a Wednesday afternoon. He figured that most of the shoppers were tourists who were going inside the mall after having visited the Alamo or taken a stroll down the Riverwalk. Jesse and TJ walked past department stores, kiosks and souvenir shops. When they neared the food court, an old woman sitting at a table with her husband flagged them down. Excuse me, young man, she said to TJ. Dont you wrestle on Mond ay Night Mayhem ? TJ smiled. Yes, maam, I do. Im TJ Masters. The old woman elbowed her husband. See, Hutch? I told you it was him. The man bobbed his head with his mouth open, but he didnt say anything.
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Ive seen you on TV, the woman said. Its too bad you dont win very much, she added with concern. TJ winked at Jesse. I know, maam. They put me up against some real mean wrestlers. But Ill do my best to win next week. TJ was speaking in kayfabe, pretending that pro wrestling is real. This is Jesse Baron, TJ told the couple. His father is Mark Baron, the Angel of Death. Oh, dear, the woman said. I hope youre not anything like your father. I dont know why he wears that ugly make-up and those awful clothes. Im sorry, young man, but the Angel of Death just gives me the willies. He sure is scary, isnt he, maam? TJ said. But dont you worry. Jesses not anything like his father. He winked at Jesse again. The woman handed TJ a napkin. Could I please have your autograph, Mr. Masters? You bet. Have you got a pen? The woman pulled a pen from her husbands shirt pocket. The man didnt react. He just kept bobbing his head. TJ leaned on the table and autographed the napkin. You sign it, too, the woman told Jesse. I know youre not a wrestler, but your father is. Jesse looked at TJ. Go ahead, he said. Jesse autographed the womans napkin. After they left the couple, TJ told Jesse, I really am gonna win next week on Mond ay Night Mayhem . You know that little scene with Tanner at the UFC matches? Well, Collins thinks they can do something with it, so the ACWs giving me a bit of a push. Yeah, my father told me about it, Jesse said. Anyway, Im scheduled to pin Chris Choate on TV.

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Choate? Jesse said. I thought Chris Choate was being given a push. He was, TJ said. But I think the ACW officials have lost faith in him. I overheard Harold Becker, the head writer, and Wes Meir, the shows producer, complaining to Collins about Chris. Harold said that Chris doesnt have any mic skills and that he lacks charisma. And Wes just doesnt like Chris look. He said that Chris has let himself go ever since he joined the ACW. They stopped in front of the Dallas Cowboys Pro Shop and peeked in the window. Jesse eyed the glass case, which housed a football that had been autographed by all the players on the Dallas Cowboys team. He could only dream of owning the ball because he could never afford to buy anything that expensive. And who would ever buy it for him? His father? If he couldnt remember how old Jesse was, he probably didnt know when his birthday was, either. Have you seen Chris lately? TJ asked. He looks like hes six months pregnant. Anyway, I think the ACWs trying to teach him a lesson by having him job to me. Too bad. I like Chris. He and I know each other from our time in the indies. Yesterday, I went over him with a clean pin at a house show in Little Rock. Im pinning him again Monday night. Jesse had seen the same thing happen to many other wrestlers, who had enjoyed success, wrestling in small arenas, but werent able to cut it once they made it to the ACW. American Championship Wrestling was one of the largest wrestling organizations in the country. Each week, it reached almost seven million viewers across the United

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States. Many indie wrestlers, like Chris Choate, couldnt handle the pressure of wrestling in that environment. TJ took Jesse to a store called Kavalas Fitness & Nutrition, which sold health and nutrition products vitamins, mineral supplements, health foods and high energy drinks. He introduced Jesse to the owner, a man named Nino Costas. I know your father, Mr. Costas told Jesse. He comes in here all the time. Jesse wondered why his father had never brought him to Kavalas. Was it because he didnt think of his son as an athlete since he wasnt a star player? Did he not think that Jesse needed to develop his strength? TJ handed Jesse a basket and led him down an aisle. He picked up a jar of creatine and dropped it in the basket. Youre gonna need this. Itll help you gain muscle mass. And some of this. TJ reached for a jar of whey protein. You mix this powder with skim milk and drink it after you finish exercising. Oh, and you also want some amino acid pills. And lots of these. TJ grabbed two handfuls of protein bars and tossed them in the basket. TJ, I dont have enough money to pay for this, Jesse said. Dont worry about it. Ill take care of the difference. But are you sure I need all these things? Of course. Its what I use. Most pro wrestlers do, too. After they left Kavalas, TJ treated Jesse to a pretzel and a Coke at the food court. Then they headed to TJs apartment. At the gym, TJ started Jesse with stretching exercises to loosen his hamstrings and quadriceps. He walked him through the process of lifting weights. TJ taught Jesse the proper techniques for building up his biceps, triceps and

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pecs. They worked on squats to strengthen Jesses legs. Jesse had done similar exercises at the field house, but this was the first time hed had one-on-one help. It was like having a personal trainer. Come on. Lets go for a jog, TJ said. Jesse looked at his watch. It was almost five-thirty. Sorry, TJ, but I have to go home. Already? Come on, Jesse. Weve hardly worked up a sweat. But my grandmas expecting me. Well, call her and tell her youre with me. Jesse couldnt tell his grandmother that he was with TJ and not at football practice, especially after the lecture his father had given him. He called and made up a story about how Coach Blaylock wanted to keep the players at the field house extra late. He also said that pizzas had been ordered, so he wouldnt be home for dinner. Jesse knew he shouldnt have lied to his grandmother. But as long as he wasnt doing anything wrong, he didnt see any real problem with it.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
riday night, TJ didnt attend Jesses game. Earlier he sent him a text that read: Sorry, cant make it 2nite. Me and your pops r wrestling @ the FedEx Forum in Memphis. Kick some Dragon butt 4 me! C U you Saturday @ 8. TJ Jesse texted back to tell TJ that he would rather be picked up in front of the Target store near his house. Jesse had already told his grandparents that he would be going to Gooses Halloween party Saturday, so he didnt want TJ showing up at his door. He ended his text message with: Dont tell my dad that Im going to ur party. It was just as well that TJ was out of town, because Jesse would have hated for him to witness the disaster that took place on the field against the Burnet Dragons. The Sidewinders started strong, building a thirteen-tonothing lead. Jesse begged Coach Blaylock to let him play, but the coach refused to listen. He chewed Jesse out for missing practice and said that he didnt see any reason to put him in the game if he wasnt going to show commitment to the team. In the second half, the Dragons came back and scored two touchdowns. But late in the fourth quarter, the Sidewinders regained the lead, 20 to 14. They could smell victory and a district championship.

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Then, with less than three minutes left in the game, Sam Morales did something uncharacteristically stupid. He didnt know if it was the tension or the excitement of the game, but on the next play, he chop blocked a charging defensive lineman. Instead of going for the upper body to stop the rushing player, Sam dove at his knees and ankles. The lineman fell to the ground, grabbed his right knee and howled in pain. The referee blew his whistle and threw a yellow flag. A Burnet player, furious at Sams dirty move, seized him by his jersey and cussed him out. Sam snatched the players face mask and twisted his helmet around. Soon, players from both sides jumped into the scuffle. When the referees finally took control of the situation, the Sidewinders were penalized fifteen yards, and both Sam and the Burnet player who grabbed him were tossed out of the game. With a look on his face that would have frightened the devil, Coach Blaylock blasted his players for fighting. Now left with no other choice, he sent Jesse in to take Sams place. Jesse ran out on the field, thrilled at the opportunity to be part of Deaf Smiths first district championship. On the line of scrimmage, he snapped the ball to Riley, who completed a twenty-three yard pass to Mitch Maloof. Despite their fifteen yard penalty, the Sidewinders picked up an easy first down. The tambourines rattled. The fans cheered. The drumline stepped up its beat. On the next down, Goose picked up five yards. The play clock had run down to under two minutes, and the Sidewinders were moving the ball. Another score and they would put the game out of reach for the Dragons.

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They continued to drive down the field until they reached the nineteen-yard line. It was now third and four with forty-seven seconds left in the game. Even if the Sidewinders didnt pick up a first down, they were close enough for Bucky to kick a field goal. A Burnet nose guard, who looked like a grizzly bear in a football uniform, crouched across from Jesse, breathing so hard that Jesse could smell his stinky breath. Stay low . Dont stand up straight to block , Coach Lawsons words rang in Jesses head. You need to have a good stance and good balance. Alw ays be read y for the linem an w hos gonna try to run you over. As big as the grizzly nose guard was, Jesse had been able to hold his own against him in the previous plays. Rem em ber, push und erneath your opponents should er pad s, back straight and feet apart. Keep d riving forw ard until the play is over. Jesse was so focused on how he was going to stop the nose guard that he didnt pay attention to his snap. Instead of sliding the football into Rileys hands, he hit Rileys fingers, causing him to fumble it. Everyone scrambled for the loose ball. While both teams fought for it, a Burnet defensive end recovered the football, ran with it in the opposite direction and scored a touchdown. Jesses heart dropped as he stared at the Burnet player in disbelief. An extra point later, the Dragons took the lead. Seconds after that, they won the game, 21 to 20. The Sidewinders playoff hopes ended, and the Dragons became the new district champs. Coach Blaylock hurled his clip board onto the field and unleashed a string of obscenities, but his voice was

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drowned amid the wild cheers and applause from the Burnet fans. After the game, the Sidewinders reluctantly stood in line to shake hands with their opponents, as they traditionally did, in a gesture of good sportsmanship. Several Burnet players laughingly thanked Jesse for fumbling the ball. Jesse wanted to crawl under the turf and forget that the whole evening ever happened. In the locker room, Coach Blaylocks explosive rant continued. You all need to be ashamed of yourselves for your sorry performance out there! he bellowed. Earlier in the game, we had the Dragons pinned against the ropes, thirteen to nothing. But you let them slip though your fingers. You let them score three unanswered touchdowns! His face grew redder as he spoke. We had a chance to win district, but you blew it. And dont put the blame on any one player, he added, staring at Sam and Jesse. Remember, theres no I in TEAM! Yeah, yeah. And theres no Jesse Baron in TEAM either. Jesse couldnt wait to get out of the locker room and move on with his life. After Coach left Riley got in Jesses face. You make me wanna puke, Baron! I dont know why Coach Blaylock keeps you on the team. Youre pathetic. Youre a joke, and everybody knows it. Sam grabbed Rileys arm and pulled him back. Leave Baron alone, Riley. If you want to blame anyone, blame me. Im the one who lost my cool and chop blocked that lineman. Im the one who got thrown out of the game. Riley tugged himself off. No, Morales, you didnt do anything wrong. You were playing with intensity. You did what you had to do to stop that lineman. Besides, we over-

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came that penalty. It was Barons screw up that cost us the game and the championship. Jesse had had enough of Riley King. With his heart racing, he said, Youve got a big mouth, pal. Maybe its time someone shut it up. Defiantly, Riley tucked out his chin. Whos gonna do it, Baron? You? Wendell stepped between them with his arms outstretched. Come on, guys. Lets cool it. Its over. What happened cant be undone, so lets put it behind us. Riley bared his teeth and said, No wonder Sara dumped you, Baron. She told me she wanted to be with a real man instead of with a loser like you. Jesse shoved Wendell out of the way and lunged at Riley, but Sam and Alberto caught him before he could do anything. Be glad theyre holding you back, you wuss, Riley taunted. Thats what Sara calls you. A wuss. Jesses nostrils flared, and he unleashed a barrage of cuss words, which shocked him because he didnt ordinarily use foul language. Come on, Jesse, Alberto said. Let it go. Riley didnt mean anything. Hes just upset cause we lost. It wasnt your fault. One player doesnt win or lose a game. Jesse continued to glare at Riley, measuring him with his eyes, wondering if he could take him in a fight. Then he freed himself from Sam and Alberto. With his anger somewhat subsided, he took a quick shower. While he was getting dressed, he heard Goose talking about his Halloween party. Well have plenty of pizzas and Cokes, Goose said. My moms making popcorn balls and caramel apples. Wendys bringing Return to Dark ness, plus a couple of

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other horror flicks. He turned to Jesse. What about you? What have you decided about Saturday night? Jesse slipped on his sweater. Sorry, Goose. Id like to go, but like I told you, I already have plans. Oh, yeah. Youre going out on a date with The Jobber. Alberto smiled curiously. Who? You know TJ Masters from American Championship Wrestling? Goose said. Jesse would rather hang out with that jobber than to go to my party. Masters? Alberto said. Dude, if youre gonna pal around with wrestlers, hang out with the cool ones. Thats what I told him, Goose said. Jesse didnt know why Goose was harassing him about his friendship with TJ, but he was getting sick of it. I have an idea, Jesse, Wendell said. Why dont you invite TJ to Gooses party? That way we can all meet him. No, Wendell, Jesse said, peeved. TJs taking me to a party at his apartment clubhouse. Im his guest. Ooh , youre his guest, Goose taunted. What is he? Your girlfriend? Jesses face flushed red. Yeah, Bucky piped in with his irritating, high voice. What is he? Your girlfriend? Jesse snapped. The rage he felt toward Riley spewed out. Without thinking, he seized Bucky by his shirt and slammed him against the lockers. Look, punk! You keep talking like that, and youll be eating your pizza at Gooses party with your jaws wired shut! Buckys mouth fell open. Wendell quickly pulled Jesse off. Whats the matter with you, man? Bucky was just joking. Theres no need to freak out.

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Jesse slapped Wendells arms away. Get your hands off me, fatso! Buckys face was chalky. His lower lip quivered and his eyes grew watery. Why are you picking on Bucky, man? Alberto asked. He didnt do nothing to you. Yeah, why are you picking on him? Sam echoed. Other guys circled around Jesse. What happened? Jesse slammed Bucky against the lockers for no reason. Whyd you do that, man? Yeah, why are trying to beat Bucky up? Bucky sat at the far end of a bench and sobbed. He was the smallest player on the team, standing five foot seven and weighing no more than a hundred forty pounds. Bucky wasnt an athlete. The only reason he was on the team was because he could punt and kick better than anyone else. He got teased a lot, but he was well-liked by everyone on the team. If Jesse had gone after anyone, it should have been Goose. He was the one who had been teasing him about TJ. Or Riley. He was the one Jesse was really mad at. Jesse grabbed his duffel bag and made his way out of the locker room through a gauntlet of cold, angry stares. At that moment, he became the most hated guy on the team.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
aturday evening, TJ pulled up in front of the Target store, where Jesse had been waiting for him. Jesse had never wanted to see anyone more than he did TJ. He needed to talk to someone about what had happened the night before, but he didnt want to discuss it with his grandparents. Or his mother. And especially not his father. TJ was wearing a variation of Green Lanterns costume. He had on a long-sleeve Green Lantern sweater, a green mask and green wrestling tights and boots. Jesse wore a black turtle-neck sweater and black pants, which he figured would be okay for a Halloween party, but it wasnt a costume. Jesse worried that he wasnt dressed appropriately. Whats the good news, Jesse? TJ asked as he drove out of the parking lot. Are the Sidewinders the new district champs? Jesse stared out the window in silence. Are they? No, Jesse said quietly. Then unable to hold back, he choked up and began to cry. TJ rubbed Jesses neck. Hey, man, dont let it get to you. The Sidewinders had a great season. Youve got a lot to be proud of.

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But it was my fault, TJ! Jesse wailed. Through his tears, he told TJ everything that happened, including his blow up in the locker room. Jesse even told him about Sara and the comments Riley made about her. Dont think about it, Jesse, TJ said. Its over. Now come on. Lets go have fun. At the party, Ill introduce you to some gals thatll make you forget all about that old Sandra. Sara, Jesse said. See? Ive forgotten about her already. TJ reached in the back seat for a plastic bag. Here, Ive got something for you. Jesse opened the bag and took out a brown wrestling mask with white trim. The design was unfamiliar to him. He didnt know of any wrestler who wore it. Jesse was disappointed that TJ hadnt given him a duplicate of the Mil Mscaras mask. TJ drove into the Brookstone Apartments parking lot and found a space near the club house. He turned off the ignition and told Jesse to put on the mask. Whatever you do, while youre at the party, dont take it off. You understand? But what if it gets hot? Jesse asked as he laced up the mask. Im telling you, Jesse, TJ said, his face growing serious. Dont take it off. At the door, a stout female security guard with short, dark hair was checking IDs. Evening, Maxine, TJ greeted the security guard. I want you to meet Sweet Brown Coffey, an old friend of mine. Hes been wrestling in the indies for years. Coffey just got hired by the ACW.

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The security guard looked Jesse over. Sweet Brown Coffey? She let out a hearty laugh. Honey, youre just how I like my coffee. Sweet and brown. She waved them through. Yall have a good time, and dont drink too much. Once inside, Jesse asked, What was that all about? Youre underage, Jesse, TJ said. No one under twenty-one is allowed in here. Thats why I want you to keep the mask on. Youre built like a man, but youve got a baby face. Theres no way Maxine was gonna let you in if she saw what you look like. Jesse suddenly felt out of place. He glanced around the room. Most of the people appeared to be in their midtwenties to early thirties. So whos Sweet Brown Coffey? he asked. You are, TJ said. For tonight, anyway. Get used to the name. Thats how Im gonna introduce you. Come on. Lets go meet some people. Strands of jack o lantern lights hung across the ceiling, illuminating the darkened club house. Flames from black candles in glass bowls shimmered brightly. Trays of chicken wings, meatballs, taquitos and vegetable platters sat on three long tables. A cauldron in the center of one of the tables served as a punch bowl. A DJ dressed as a pirate boomed out techno music. TJ led Jesse to the bar where a woman in a cat costume was arguing with the bartender, because he wouldnt serve her a drink. Hi, TJ, she said. I love your costume. Who are you supposed to be? The Green Hornet? No, Kristi. Im the Green Lantern, TJ said.

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Kristi hiccupped. Oh, yeah. I saw the movie. She wagged a finger in Jesses direction. And who are you supposed to be, darling? The Brown Lantern? This is a wrestling buddy of mine, Kristi, TJ said. Sweet Brown Coffey. Kristi ran her hand along the side of Jesses mask. Ooh, darling. Youre just how I love my coffee. Yeah, I know, Jesse said. Sweet and brown. Kristi shrieked with drunken laughter. You took the words right out of my mouth. Jesse wished TJ had come up with another name for him. The Brown Lantern would have been better than Sweet Brown Coffey. Kristi brushed up against TJ and said, Darling, would you tell Hector to let me have just one more margarita? Please? Kristi, youve had enough to drink for a while, the bartender told her. Why dont you get something to eat? Maybe later Ill serve you another margarita, but not right now. TJ peeled Kristi off him. You heard what the doctor said, Kristi. Have you seen Arlene and Donna? Kristi hiccupped again. Sure. Theyre sitting over there by the skeleton thingy. She pointed to a table where a rubber skeleton with red, glowing eyes hung from above. TJ introduced Jesse to the bartender, a man named Hector Castro, who lived at the apartments. Give me two scotch and waters, Hector, TJ said. After the bartender prepared the drinks, TJ handed Jesse a glass and said, Here you go, buddy. Drink up. Jesse couldnt refuse TJ now. The bartender might suspect something. He took a sip. The scotch and water

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burned his throat. Jesse didnt understand how anyone could enjoy drinking the stuff. Having given up trying to persuade Hector to serve her another margarita, Kristi followed TJ and Jesse to the table where TJ introduced Jesse to Arlene, a girl he had been dating, and Donna, Arlenes roommate. Donna was dressed in a short, leather brown dress with two feathers that stuck out of a headband. Arlene wore a black-andwhite French maid outfit. Are you really a wrestler? Donna asked when Jesse sat next to her. Yes. Why do you ask? Youre kind of small for a wrestler, arent you? I fight in the light-heavyweight division, Jesse told her, even though the ACW had no light-heavyweight division. Donna took a sip of her drink. Then she reached for the bottom of Jesses mask. Lets see what you really look like. Jesse pulled away. Sorry, but no one can know my true identity. You know, for security reasons. He didnt know what that meant, but it made Donna laugh. She was gorgeouslong, dark-brown hair, blue eyes and full lips. She was probably twenty-four or twentyfive, far too old to be interested in Jesse if she knew how old he really was. Youre not ugly under the mask, are you? Donna asked. No, actually Im quite handsome, Jesse said. In fact, one of the reasons I wear the mask is because if I dont, my female fans will jump over the security railing at the wrestling arenas to try to get at me. Donna laughed again.

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Under the mask, Jesse felt relaxed and uninhibited. Donna had no idea he was really a sixteen-year-old junior in high school. She asked Jesse about his wrestling career, so he told her his fathers storiesabout how he had wrestled for the Southwest Wrestling Association, the Universal Wrestling League and National Pro Wrestling. When Donna asked why she hadnt seen him on TV, Jesse explained that he was still new to the ACW, so they were only using him in house shows. TJ and Arlene got up to dance. Feeling confident, Jesse took Donna by the hand. Come on, lets join them. Kristi eyed Jesses near-full glass of scotch and water. Are you going to finish that? she asked. Help yourself, Jesse said. He hadnt dated anyone since he broke up with Sara, so he was thrilled to be with a girl as beautiful as Donna. After a while, Jesse and Donna stopped to get something to eat. Back at their table, TJ began telling a ghost story that had supposedly taken place in San Antonio. Years ago, a school bus stalled on the railroad tracks on Shane Street, TJ told the group. A train started coming toward it. The conductor yanked on the train whistles string to warn the bus driver to move out of the way, but the bus didnt budge. Then, bam! The train smashed into the bus, killing the driver and a bunch of little kids. Arlene and Donna gasped. Kristis eyes were glazed, and she looked as if she was about to pass out. Anyway, they say that if you drive to the railroad tracks and stop your car over them, the ghosts of those little kids will push your car away from the tracks, TJ said. Ive even heard stories of people who sprinkled baby powder or flour on the trunk of their car before going out

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there. And after their car is pushed past the tracks, theyve discovered the ghost kids handprints on the trunk. Arlene snuggled up to TJ and said, I have an idea, baby. Why dont we go out there right now? TJ turned to Jesse. What do you say, Sweet Brown Coffey? Wanna see some ghosts? Jesse looked at his watch. It was almost midnight. He had told his grandmother that he would be back by twelve. Its getting late, TJ. I think Id better start heading home. Aw, come on, Sweet Brown, TJ said. Dont be a party pooper. The nights still young. Lets go meet some ghosts. I want to go, too, Donna said. She looped an arm around Jesses. Come on, itll be fun. Jesses heart melted. How could he resist? He smiled at her and said, All right. He asked TJ to let him drive. TJ pulled his keys from a pouch that was strapped around his waist. Be my guest. The five of them left the club house. Donna sat in the front with Jesse, and TJ, Arlene and Kristi sat in the back. The electronic gates swung open and Jesse headed out of the Brookstone Apartments complex. Which way? he asked. Remember where Romos is on Hanson Road? TJ asked. Drive to it. Ill tell you where to go from there. While Jesse drove, Donna nuzzled up against him and kissed his neck. Take the mask off, she whispered in his ear. I want to see what you look like. Jesse wrapped an arm around her and kissed her forehead. Maybe later. He had no intention of removing his mask in front of her. He had told Donna he had been a wrestler for ten years, leading her to assume he was twenty-

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seven or twenty-eight years old. That was fine with him. He didnt plan to see her again. She was just his date for the evening, someone to help him forget about that old Sandra. Jesse peered in the rearview mirror. Kristi was leaning against the door, asleep. TJ and Arlene were making out. Jesse smiled, thinking that TJ had to be the coolest guy hed ever met. He spotted a police squad car coming toward them from the opposite direction. Jesses heart quickened, but he tried not to worry. He wasnt speeding, and the lights on TJs car were working fine. The officer glared at Jesse as he drove past. Quickly, Jesse pushed Donna off and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. Through the rearview mirror, he kept his eyes on the squad car as it continued driving away from him. Yeah, thats it. Keep on going, pal. Go meet your bud d ies at the d onut shop. Then to his horror, Jesse saw the squad car slow down and make a U-turn. He cant be coming after me! I w asnt d oing anything w rong. Then it dawned on him. The mask! It must have drawn the police officers suspicion. With one hand, Jesse clumsily undid the laces and yanked it off. The police officer turned on his flashing lights and siren and drove behind him.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

J, a cops pulling me over! Jesse cried. What do I do? TJ looked out the back window. Stay cool, Jesse, he said. Just stay cool. Jesse stopped the car on the side of the road. Through his rearview mirror, he watched the police officer get out of his car and approach them. The officer held a flashlight in his left hand, while his right hand rested on his gun. Jesse rolled down his window and looked up at him. Evening. My names Officer Padilla. Im with the San Antonio Police Department. The officers voice was calm but authoritative. I saw you making furtive movements in there. What I mean by that is that I saw you moving around in your car. Is there anything in the vehicle I should know about? No, sir, Jesse said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. I was taking off my mask. We just left a Halloween party. The officer shone his flashlight in the car. It was obvious from everyones costumes that Jesse was being truthful. May I see your drivers license and proof of insurance?
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As Jesse reached for his wallet, he explained that all he had was a learners permit. TJ leaned forward and said, My insurance cards in the glove compartment, Officer. Listen, my names Tristan Masters and I wrestle for American . . . Ill talk to you in a minute, Officer Padilla interrupted. He studied Jesses learners permit. How much have you had to drink tonight? he asked. Nothing, sir, Jesse said. I mean, not really. What do you mean, not really? Officer Padilla asked gruffly. Its a simple question. Either you had something to drink or you didnt. Theres no not really. Hey, you dont have to talk that way to my friend, TJ said. If you have a problem, you take it up with me. I own the car. The officer scowled at TJ. Shut your mouth, son, or youre gonna find yourself in a heap of trouble. Im not afraid of you, TJ shot back. Im a wrestling superstar on ACW. Yeah, theyre both wrestlers, Donna said. Thats TJ Masters back there and this is Sweet Brown Coffey. TJ undid his seatbelt. He gripped the front-seat headrest and stretched himself up. I fight with the big dogs, he continued in his drunken rant. You think youre bad cause youve got a badge and a gun? Why dont you take that badge and gun off and get in the ring with me? Then well see how bad you really are. Officer Padilla came around TJs side of the car and wrenched the door open. Get out, tough guy. With a smirk on his face, TJ stepped out of the car. Put your hands on top of your head and interlace your fingers.

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TJ complied but continued to smirk, even laugh, as the officer locked him in handcuffs. Youre nobody to me, TJ taunted. Im a celebrity. Youre just a rent-a-cop. How much money do you make? Minimum wage? Shut your mouth and be quiet, the officer said. He sat TJ on the curb. Then he told everyone else to get out of the car. Jesse and Donna stepped out. Arlene nudged Kristi with her arm, but she didnt move. I think my friends asleep. Well, wake her up! the officer growled. Kristi finally stirred, and Arlene helped her out of the car. Officer Padilla asked for everyones ID. Then he ordered them to sit on the curb next to TJ with their hands on their knees, and he returned to his car with their IDs. While they waited, TJ cursed under his breath. Kristi slouched against Arlene and went back to sleep. Donna studied Jesses face and asked, How old are you? He lowered his head and muttered, Sixteen. But Ill be seventeen in December. You hooked me up with a kid? Donna fumed, looking piercingly over at TJ. You think I go for junior high boys? Actually Im in high school, Jesse said. And you think thats supposed to make it all right? Donna replied, her voice rising with irritation. Returning her attention to TJ, she said, You beat everything, TJ, you know that? You told me you were going to fix me up with an ACW wrestler, but instead I ended up with a kid. A few minutes later, a police paddy wagon showed up. Two officers got out and Officer Padilla spoke with them briefly. Then he told the group, Youre all being arrested for public intoxication.

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But officer, I wasnt drinking! Jesse cried. Honest. I just took a sip, thats all. Officer Padilla ignored him, and they were all handcuffed. The other officers opened the rear doors of the white van and situated TJ and the girls inside. You ride with me, Officer Padilla told Jesse. He took him to his squad car and sat him in the back. Feeling helpless and terrified, Jesse hunched over and shuddered. Tears spilled down his face. How was he going to explain this to his grandparents? To his mother? Oh, god, to his father? He had specifically warned him to stay away from TJ. What would he do when he learned that Jesse had deliberately disobeyed him? That he had been arrested? Snot streamed out of Jesses nose. He tried to wipe it off with his shoulder, but his hands were tightly bound behind him, and he couldnt reach. He watched the police van as it drove in front of the squad car. Jesse thought about Donna, and the loathsome look she had on her face when she discovered who she had spent the evening with. Jesse wished he had never agreed to drive to the ghost tracks. He should have insisted that TJ take him home. He could have capped the evening by giving Donna a long, goodnight kiss. He wouldnt even have had to remove his mask, and Donna never would have known what he looked like. Jesse wondered what would happen to TJ and the girls. Who would bail them out? Who would bail him out? On TV cop shows, prisoners were always allowed to make one phone call. Jesse would have to call his grandparents to get him out of jail because his father was out of town, thank goodness.

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Youre not really a wrestler, are you? Officer Padilla asked Jesse. No, sir, Im not. But my father is. He wrestles for American Championship Wrestling as the Angel of Death. Officer Padilla cracked a smile. Is that right? I know who he is. Ive been watching the Angel of Death wrestle since I was a kid. He even paid a visit to the station a couple of years ago, and I got his autograph. Jesse remembered that day. Saras dad had invited Jesses father to the police station, and Sara and Jesse went with them. Jesse might even have met Officer Padilla because Saras dad had introduced him to lots of police officers. What are you doing with that group, anyway? Officer Padilla asked. Arent you a little young to be partying with them? Jesse sniffled, trying, but failing to keep his nose from running. TJ Masters is a friend of mine. He invited me to a Halloween party. But I wasnt drinking, sir. Please believe me. I wasnt! Jesse bawled loudly and he heaved heavy sobs. Officer Padilla remained silent for a few moments. Then he said, Son, Im going to do you a favor. Ill take you to the station, but I wont book you. Ill have someone there call your dad to pick you up. Cant you just take me home? Jesse pleaded. Please? I wont ever do anything like this again. More silence. Then: You know, Im supposed to fill out a juvenile release form on you, Officer Padilla said, but Im going to let it go this time. If I were you, though, Id be a lot more careful picking out who I associate out with. Now, where do you live?

CHAPTER NINETEEN
t was eleven-thirty Sunday morning when Jesse finally got out of bed. His grandparents had excused him from going to church because he had come in so late. He picked up his phone and called TJ but got no response. He sent him a text. Again, nothing. TJ was probably still in jail. Jesse made his way to the kitchen where he served himself a bowl of Cheerios and a glass of orange juice. While he ate, the events from the night before floated through his mind. The whole experience felt surreal, dream-like. Jesse cringed when he thought about how close he had come to landing in jail. He had been lucky that he had been stopped by a police officer who turned out to be a wrestling fan and decided to give him a break. When the squad car stopped in front of Jesses house, Pollo began to bark. Jesse feared that his grandparents would peek out the window and see the officer uncuffing him. Thankfully his grandfather had already gone to bed, and his grandmother had dozed off on the couch in front of the TV, waiting for him. All she asked when Jesse walked in the house was, How was the party? Great! he replied, not needing to lie about which party he had gone to.

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Jesses stress and anxiety over his ordeal somehow triggered a nervous laugh. He couldnt believe how gutsy TJ had been to challenge the officer to a fight. Why d ont you tak e that bad ge and gun off and get in the ring w ith m e? Then w ell see how bad you really are. Calling out Judson Tanner was one thing, but the police! Im a celebrity. Youre just a rent-a-cop. A wave of laughter exploded out of Jesses mouth, and milk squirted through his nose. He didnt know why he was laughing. There was nothing funny about his nightmarish experience. But there was something about TJs nerve and brashness that he found fascinating and exciting. What was it TJ had said? If you alw ays follow the rules, youll m iss all the fun. Jesse tried calling him again. Still no answer. He hoped TJ wasnt mad at him. In a way, Jesse blamed himself for what happened. He was the one wearing the mask that had alarmed the police officer. He was the one who had insisted on driving the car because he wanted to look cool and grown up in front of Donna. But how cool and grown up did he look, sitting on the curb with his mask off, whimpering like a little girl? Monday morning, Jesses troubles continued. While he was taking his books out of his locker, Riley King and Sara Young approached him. Sara bunched her fists on her hips and stared at Jesse through narrow eyes. I cant believe you beat up Bucky Henderson, she said. Jesse looked at Riley, then at Sara. I didnt beat him up. So Riley and everyone else on the team made up that story? Sara asked. Is that what youre saying?

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Riley chortled. Say, Baron. If youre looking for someone else to beat up, I hear theyve got some pretty tough kindergarteners at the elementary school across from the field house. Sara took Rileys hand and drew him close, as if they were a united force against a common enemy. Youre disgusting, Jesse, she said. You know that? I cant believe I ever went out with you. Reeling from the surprise attack, Jesse said, Wait, Sara. Let me explain. Theres nothing to explain, Jesse. Everybody knows what you did. What a loser, Riley said. As upset as Sara was, Jesse also noticed a look of hurt and disappointment on her face. They had once been friends. They had shared secrets. But Sara must have thought she was seeing a side of Jesse that he had never revealed to her. My dad was right about you, she said. Youre just like your father, with that same explosive, out-of-control temper. Come on, babe, Riley said. Weve got better things to do than to waste our time with this loser. As they walked away, Riley looked back at Jesse and formed an L on his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. At that moment, Jesse heard a voice over his shoulder say, I dont know much about you, Jessup, but one thing I can say for certain. Youre not the most popular guy in school. He turned and saw Wally Mora standing behind him. Did those bad children try to take away your happy thoughts? she asked.

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It was just a misunderstanding, Jesse said without elaborating. I know whatll make you feel better. Wally reached into her green messenger bag and pulled out a piece of peppermint candy. Here, thisll help you get your happy thoughts back. Candy? Works for me. Most people dont know it, Jessup, but peppermint candy is the best medicine for the downers. Wally wore the same JAMAICAN RUDEBOYS T-shirt she had on the first time Jesse met her. Hey, I just learned something about you, she said. Youre the Angel of Deaths son. You know who he is? Jesse asked. Wally didnt seem like the type of person who watched wrestling. Absolutely. I love Mond ay Night Mayhem . Its the sweetest action on television. I mean, its got drama, suspense, comedyeverything you could want in a show. Who wouldnt want to watch it? Lots of people, Jesse said, wondering if Wally was putting him on. You know its scripted, right? Of course. Thats what makes it so much fun. Its like watching a stage production, and I love theater. The bell sounded. Sorry, but I must go, Wally said. Maybe Ill catch up with you at lunch. She pointed to the peppermint candy in Jesses hand. Dont forget to take your medicine. Jesse watched her disappear into a crowd of kids. He unwrapped the peppermint candy and popped it in his mouth. During English class, he did his best to stay awake through a reading of The Grapes of Wrath . Mrs. Dowell called the book a classic. Maybe it was, but Jesse couldnt

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get into studying about life during the Depression. His life was depressing enough as it was. With his phone hidden in his lap, he texted TJ again. This time, TJ answered right away. He told Jesse that Hector Castro, the bartender from the party, had bailed him and the girls out of jail. After that, Hector took him to pick up his car at the pound. Now TJ was waiting for Jesses father and Carlos Montoya to drive him to the airport. The three of them were flying to Seattle for Mond ay Night Mayhem . Jesse quickly texted back to warn TJ not to tell his father about what had happened Saturday night. TJ didnt appear to be mad at him, for which he was grateful. TJ was so different from the boring dorks Jesse hung out with. If he was honest with himself, Jesse would have to agree with his father that TJ had a wild streak. But thats what he liked about him. TJ was fun to be with. Jesse was looking forward to watching him get his first win on Mond ay Night Mayhem . TJ had told him that he was going to beat Chris Choate with a shooting star press. A shooting star press is a high-risk maneuver in which a wrestler launches himself off the top turnbuckle, does a back flip in mid-air and lands on his opponent in a press position. Because of the potential danger of performing such a move, many wrestlers avoid attempting the shooting star press. But TJ knew he needed to do something special to get the ACW officials attention if he expected to continue receiving a push. At lunchtime, Jesse spotted Goose and Wendell sitting at a table, eating. He was about to go over there to apologize for his outburst in the locker room when he noticed Bucky making his way toward them. The moment Bucky saw him, he wheeled around and looked for another place to sit.

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Bucky, Jesse called. Im sorry, man. I didnt mean to go crazy on you the other night. Bucky ignored him and kept looking around the lunchroom. Go on and join the guys, Jesse told him. Ill sit somewhere else. When he turned, he nearly bumped into Wally, who was standing behind him, holding a red Tupperware container and a blue plastic bottle. Whats your story, Jessup? she asked. Why is everyone snubbing you? Did you forget to use deodorant this morning or something? Oh, hi. Wally sniffed the air. You dont smell bad. Hey, you dont have some kind of contagious disease I should be concerned about, do you? Nah. Lets just say it hasnt been a good day. Wish I could help you, Jessup, but Im all out of peppermint candy, Wally said. But if you need company, youre welcome to sit with me. Jesse was hesitant. Wally seemed a little too strange for his taste. But he didnt have a lot of options. Sure, okay, as soon as I buy my lunch. Ill be sitting over there. Wally pointed to a table in front of a mural of a sidewinder with a red bandana and a white cowboy hat. A few minutes later, Jesse joined her. What are you eating? he asked, staring at the brown meat in Wallys Tupperware container. Squirrel. Want some? Its pretty good. Jesses insides lurched. Uh, no thanks. You sure? Its fresh road kill. Wally stabbed the piece of meat with her fork and held it in front of Jesses face. I

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found the squirrel on the street this morning when I went out to get the paper. The squirrel had just died, and the body was still warm, so I cooked it right away. She popped the meat into her mouth and gobbled it up. Squirrel meat tastes best if you cook it before rigor mortis sets in. Jesse gaped at her, and a sour taste filled his mouth. Yep. Theres nothing I like better than freshly cooked squirrel, Wally said. I only wish I had a bowl of armadillo stew to go with it. She stared at Jesse with feigned disappointment. Now dont tell me youre one of those weirdos who dont like squirrel or armadillo. Jesse smiled uneasily. Youre putting me on, right? Wally laughed. I had you going there for a minute, didnt I? She cut another piece of meat and ate it. Anybody can tell this isnt squirrel . . . its rattlesnake. Jesse looked closely at her food and saw that Wally was eating boiled chicken. He cut into his meat patty and took a bite. Hows Samson? he asked, making sure he remembered to call Duck by his new name. Hes doing fine, except that he told me he misses you. So youve taught Samson how to talk? No, silly. Dogs cant talk. Samson uses sign language. Jesse decided Wally wasnt strange after all. She was just having fun. Who are the Jamaican Rude Boys? he asked, staring at Wallys T-shirt. Theyre a ska band. Ska? Whats that? Um, let me see. How can I explain it? Are you familiar with reggae music? You know, Bob Marley and all that?

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Jesse knew what reggae was because his parents listened to it. Well, take reggae, stick a firecracker under it and youve got ska, Wally said. Its reggae amped up by about a hundred. Get it? Jesse didnt get it, but he nodded anyway. In ska, the emphasis is on the upbeat. Wally tapped her hands on the table and sang out, Hep-hep-hep-hep. Hep-hep-hep-hep. Ska is great music to dance to. Jesse sat his fork down and mimicked Wally by drumming the beat on the table. There you go, Jessup. Youve got it. Hep-hep-hephep. Hep-hep-hep-hep, Jesse echoed and tapped along with her until a teacher assistant shushed them to stop. You catch on quick, Jessup, Wally said. Thanks. I used to play the drums. I bet you were good. Whyd you give them up? Jesse found Wally enjoyable to talk to. She liked wrestling, she had a great sense of humor and she had taught him about a new type of music. I thought about joining the band when I came to Deaf Smith, he said, but I decided to play football instead. Do you like playing football? Wally asked. Jesse wavered for a moment. Then, candidly he replied, No. Then why are you on the team? I dont know. I guess because its whats expected of me. Who expects it? My father. Oh, yeah, the Angel of Death, Wally said. Whats it like being the son of a famous wrestling superstar?

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Not nearly as exciting as you might think, Jesse said glumly. Well, do you think your father would think any less of you if you didnt play football? Wally sealed the Tupperware container and placed it and the plastic bottle inside her messenger bag. I dont know. Probably not. Then if you dont want to play football, you shouldnt do it, Wally said. I mean, be who you want to be, Jessup, not what somebody else thinks you should be. Or to quote that wise philosopher, Popeye the Sailor: I yam what I yam, and thats all that I yam. Jesse pointed at her with his fork. Is that why youve got that haircut? Wally touched her head. Whats wrong with my hair? I dont know. It just looks . . . different. What do you think my hair should look like? Jesse didnt answer. Its who I am, Jessup. Its who I choose to be. We get into trouble when we stop being who we are and try to be somebody else. Jesse loved the self-confidence that radiated from her. Speaking of being somebody else, he said, changing the subject, if you watch Mond ay Night Mayhem tonight, youre going to see a huge transformation take place. Like what? I wont spoil the surprise. Tune in tonight to find out. After Spanish class, Jesse cornered Bucky Henderson in the hallway and forced him to listen while he apologized for going off on him. Jesse explained that he was upset and angry that he had cost the Sidewinders the dis-

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trict championship, and he asked Bucky to forgive him. Reluctantly, Bucky accepted his apology. They walked out of the building, where they met up with Wendell and Goose. Jesse had so much he wanted to share with the guys. He was dying to tell them about TJs party and the trouble hed had with the police. He started off by saying how sorry he was for his behavior in the locker room. Goose and Wendell accepted it. They understood that Jesse was just letting off some steam, which he was relieved to hear. Before Jesse had a chance to tell the guys about his weekend adventures, Goose asked, How was The Jobbers party? Jesse knew then that he couldnt talk about his experience. Goose would only tease him about his relationship with TJ. It was all right, he said flatly. Did you invite the bald chick to go with you? You mean Wally? Jesse asked, annoyed that Goose had referred to her as the bald chick. Yeah. I saw you with her during lunch, so I thought maybe the two of you might have something going on. Nah. I just sat with her because I thought you guys were mad at me, Jesse said. He didnt want to admit that he was finding himself attracted to her. Wally was certainly no beauty queen. She wore no make-up or jewelry. She didnt tweeze her brows. And that haircut! It looked as if she had gotten it clipped by Edward Scissorhands. Still, she had an inner beauty that Jesse found appealing. He wondered if she had a boyfriend.

CHAPTER TWENTY
hat evening, Jesse sat in the den with his grandfather to watch Mond ay Night Mayhem . His grandmother disliked watching wrestling, so she holed up in her bedroom with a stack of magazines. The show opened with a match between John Henry Sykes and Sasha the Russian Bear Volkov. John Henry took two punches to the face but quickly retaliated with a head butt and a spine buster. He grabbed Volkovs leg applied an ankle lock, but Volkov reached the ropes, and the referee forced John Henry to break the hold. Jesse wished he was built like John Henry Sykes. He wished he had an intimidating physique that would make jerks like Riley King think twice about messing with him. He thought back to Wallys mention of Popeye. Jesse hadnt seen a Popeye cartoon in years, but he remembered that in almost every cartoon, Popeye would down a can of spinach. Then gigantic muscles would sprout from his biceps, and he could beat up Bluto, his enemy. If that stuff worked in real life, Jesse would polish off a can of spinach anytime he had to deal with loud-mouths like Riley King, who got in his way. The bout ended when John Henry caught Sasha Volkov in mid-air as Volkov came off the second rope.

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John Henry power-slammed him onto the mat and finished him off with the Derailer. The match was a good opener, but Jesse had known ahead of time that John Henry Sykes was going to win the match. John Henry was being readied for a bigger role with the company, while Volkovs career was slipping into jobber status. After a commercial break, Jesse turned up the volume as Dan Greenberg introduced the next bout. TJ Masters came out first, to almost no reaction from the crowd. Chris Choate, on the other hand, received a decent pop. The match started with a standard, collar-and-elbow tie-up. Choate followed that up with a side headlock. Then he flung TJ to the ropes and connected with a solid, flying shoulder block when TJ sprang back. Choate picked up TJ by his hair, rammed him against the turnbuckles and hammered him with forearm smashes to the face. The fans began filing out of the auditorium. As far as they were concerned, this was a bathroom-break match. They werent interested in watching a jobber getting squashed. Choate went for a big boot to the face, but TJ ducked and Choate got his leg caught between the corner ropes. TJ took advantage of the situation and hit him with a series of right hands. He dragged Choate away from the corner and dropped him with a Russian legsweep, then a pump handle slam. The people in the aisles stopped to watch, and a mild TJ chant broke out. TJ climbed the ropes, pointed to the crowd and smiled. He leaped off the top turnbuckle, flipped himself in the air and landed on top of Chris Choate. He hooked a leg and

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the referee counted to three. The surprised crowd leaped to its feet, cheering and clapping at TJs upset win. Though Jesse knew what the outcome of the match would be, chills still ran down his arms as he watched TJ bask in the glory of his first victory on Mond ay Night Mayhem . Did you see that, Gelo? Jesse asked excitedly, but his grandfather had fallen asleep. The third match featured Black Mamba, who was defending his Iron Fist championship against Lone Wolf Luke Mauldin. The match ended in a disqualification when the referee caught Mauldin using brass knuckles to knock out Mamba. The show went to a commercial break. When it returned, the Angel of Deaths spectral music sounded, and dark-blue lights blanketed the arena. Columns of flames shot up on each side of the stage entrance, and a cloud of smoke billowed out. Amid a chorus of boos, the Angel of Death appeared. He sauntered quietly down the aisle. Jesse nudged his grandfather awake. Look, Gelo. Dads on TV. He hoped Wally was watching. The Angel of Death climbed through the ropes and stood in the center of the ring, holding his scythe in one hand and a microphone in the other. Speaking in a gravelly, robotic voice, he cut his last promo as the Angel of Death: The darkness, which the Angel of Death once embraced, Deprived him of triumphs, has besmirched his name, With the gates of the Netherworld now shut, has cast him from its dominion. has forsaken its most loyal minion.

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where shall this tormented soul retreat? Alas, where shall he find solace to lick his wounds of defeat? that he may savor victory. Fate, cloaked in shadows, thy vanquished son beseeches thee. Restore thy servant to what once he was,

Pretty good, huh? Jesses grandfather said, smiling. Jesse had always thought that the Angel of Deaths poetic dialogue was hokey and silly. His father, on the other hand, took his work seriously. On numerous occasions, Jesse had heard him yelling at his laptop whenever he struggled to write his promos. The sound technician in the arena played a recording of O Fortuna, a religious choral piece, and a white, almost blinding, light radiated from the stage entrance. The orchestral music built slowly, with kettledrums, cymbals and gongs marking the tempo. A chorus sang, almost in a whisper. Gradually, the sound increased, louder and louder. The Angel of Death turned toward the light and said: Is this the sign, O Fate, which thou dost send? Is this what thou givest mine soul to mend?

The Light, which the Angel of Death once shunned, As the musical piece reached its climax, the Angel of Death finished his promo. If Darkness has renounced him heretofore, then the Angel of Death shall be no more. now beckons the Netherworlds abandoned son.

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With that, he removed his hooded cloak and dropped it and his scythe on the mat. He exited the ring and walked toward the light, disappearing in its white glow. Immediately, Jesses phone rang. When he answered it, Goose asked, What happened, man? Did your dad just announce his retirement? No. Hes been given a new gimmick, Jesse told him. From now on, my father will be known as a preacher called Elijah Nightshade. Are you serious? Goose said, nearly speechless. What about the Angel of Death? I dont know, Jesse said. I guess you might say he saw the light.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
he next day, Jesse was bombarded with questions from kids wanting an explanation for what they had witnessed on Mond ay Night Mayhem . Even Dr. Ros pulled him out of class to ask him what his father had meant when he said that the Angel of Death was no more. Dr. Ros wanted to know the significance of the white light and in which direction the ACW was taking the Angel of Death character. Out of respect for the wrestling industry, Jesse kept his answers brief and sketchy. Except for Wendell, Goose and Bucky, he seldom revealed backstage information to others. During lunch, Jesse sat with the guys, glad that they were friends again. He filled them in on the plans the ACW had for his father. What idiot came up with that idea? Goose asked. If I wanna hear a preacher, Ill go to church. Wendell shook his head. Man, the ACW has ruined the best character they ever had. Yeah, they ruined the best character they ever had, Bucky said. Goose took a bite of his ham and cheese sandwich. Through a mouthful of food, he told Jesse, I noticed that your friend, The Jobber, finally won a match.

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Yeah, TJs being given a minor push, Jesse said. He wanted to say something sarcastic to Goose for calling TJ a jobber, but after his blowup in the locker room, he held back. Ive got to give TJ Masters his props, though, Wendell said. He may be a jobber, but that shooting star press was awesome. Goose washed down his food with a drink from his grape juice carton. I guess we wont be able to call Masters The Jobber anymore. Well have to come up with something else that starts with a T and a J. How about just calling him TJ? Jesse asked. Thats his name. While they were talking, Wally walked up to their table. Hello, boys. Mind if I join you? The guys stared at Jesse. It was his call. Have a seat. Jesse removed his windbreaker from the chair next to him. When Wally opened her Tupperware container, he said, Im not even going to ask what youre eating. Thats good, Wally said. Its best if you dont know. She turned to the guys. Im Wally Mora. Yeah, we know, Goose said. Jesse told us all about you. Youre the chick who stole his dog. I didnt steal his dog, Wally said. Samson was a gift from Jesse. She turned to him. Isnt that right? Yeah, Jesse said, glaring at the guys. I told you that. Is it true that you have a parrot that can say the Pledge of Allegiance? Bucky asked. Wally stirred the beef stew in her container. No, I have a parrot that can whistle The Star-Spangled Banner. But

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Im sure Orpheus could learn the Pledge of Allegiance if he wanted to. How did you teach your bird to whistle The StarSpangled Banner? Wendell asked. I didnt. My uncle Daniel did. He was so proud when he became an American citizen that he taught Orpheus the national anthem. Wally took a sip from her plastic bottle. I inherited Orpheus from him when he moved to Colorado. Changing the subject, she said, Hey, Jessup, youve got to tell me about what happened with the Angel of Death last night. Sorry, but thats privileged information, Goose said smugly. No, its not, Jesse said. He explained to Wally the reason behind his fathers transformation. That had to be the sweetest promo the Angel of Death has ever cut, Wally said. Does your dad write his own material? Yeah, Jesse said. Hes one of the few wrestlers Frank Collins, the promoter, trusts to do it. Almost all the other wrestlers have their lines written out for them. Im going to miss the Angel of Death, Wally said, but Ill be looking forward to seeing your dad as Elijah Nightshade. Goose wiped his mouth on his sleeve. You know, Ive never met a chick who knew so much about wrestling, he said. Wally scowled at him. And I never met anyone who referred to me as a chick. Hey, I just call them as I see them, Goose said. You are a chick, right? I mean, with that weird haircut, from the back, you sort of look like a dude.

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Wally stood and gathered her Tupperware container and plastic bottle. You know what? The air at this table has begun to stink. Excuse me, but I think Ill sit somewhere else. Wally, wait!Jesse grabbed his lunch tray. Whats with that chick? Goose asked. Cant she take a joke? Shut up, Goose! Jesse said and hurried after her. Wally sat at a table with a group of girls. One of the girls, Jora Enge, said to her, I told you, you were wasting your time trying to talk to those jocks. Theres not an ounce of gray matter between them. Shh. Here comes one of them now, Emily Robinet whispered, nodding in Jesses direction. He approached their table and said, Im really sorry about that, Wally. Goose is a moron. You cant take anything he says seriously. Are you in the habit of hanging out with morons? Jora asked, defending her friend. Probably, Jesse said, smiling. But its a habit Ive been trying to break. Mind if I join you? Without waiting for a response, he placed his lunch tray on the table and sat on a round stool across from Wally. Say hi to my friends, Jora and Emily, Wally said. And thats Alyssa. She pointed to a girl with long, red hair, who had her head lowered, almost buried, in her sandwich. Alyssa didnt look up to acknowledge Jesse. So anyway, this kid dangles his shirt over a bridge, Nikki grabs it and he pulls her out of the water, Jora told Emily and Alyssa, finishing the story she had begun sharing before Wally and Jesse arrived. Are you talking about that kid from Dallas who saved Nikki Demetriuss life? Jesse asked.

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Jora slapped her friend on the shoulder with the back of her hand. See, Emily? Even this jock knows about it. The storys been all over the news. I dont know how you couldve missed it. I told you, I dont watch a lot of TV, Emily said. My mom knows the kid, Jesse told them. Hes a student at the school where she teaches. Whats your mom doing teaching in Dallas? Wally asked. Then she caught herself. Oh. I guess your parents arent together. Sorry. Jesse shrugged. Theyre divorced. But hey, life goes on, right? So tell us about the kid who saved Nikkis life, Jora said. What was his name? Ronnie something? Rawly, Jesse said. Rawly Snchez. The girls gathered closely as Jesse filled them in on the story his mom had shared with him of the student at North Oak Cliff High School in Dallas who had rescued world-famous fashion model Nikki Demetrius from drowning after she had driven her car into Winnetka Creek. Even Alyssa stopped eating her sandwich and scooted in to listen. While Jesse was talking, a tall, thin boy came from behind Wally and kissed her on the cheek. Call me, okay? he said. I will, Wally replied and kissed the air as the boy walked away. Jesse felt a sudden stab of anxiety in his gut. Boyfriend? he asked warily. The girls giggled. Brandon? Wally said. Hardly. She paused, then asked, Why? Would it bother you if he was?

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No, I . . . uh . . . was just wondering if you were seeing anyone right now, Jesse said. Why do you want to know? Jora asked. I think hes hitting on Wally, Emily said. I think he is, too, Jora agreed. No, Jessup. I dont have a boyfriend, Wally said. Dont really want one, either. Tell you what, though. If youre interested in the job, Ill take your application. But Ill be honest with you. Im not hiring right now. Well, maybe I can do some volunteer work, then, Jesse said, enjoying Wallys playful words. Stop by my office later on, and well talk about it, she said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
esse was sitting in the den, doing his homework, when Pollo began to bark. Jesses grandfather peeked out the window and said, Your papis home. Moments later, Jesses father, Carlos Montoya and TJ Masters walked in the house. They had just returned from having wrestled in Seattle. Carlos lived in New Braunfels, a small town outside of San Antonio, and Jesses father had invited him and TJ for dinner before they headed home. After they washed their hands, they sat at the dining table with Jesse and his grandfather, while Jesses grandmother heated their food. Well, champ, its done, Jesses father said. The Angel of Death is finished. Yeah, Gelo and I saw your promo on TV, Jesse said. You know, at first, I hated the whole idea. I mean, Ive been the Angel of Death for a long time. But after hearing what creative has mapped out for Elijah Nightshade and the Assembly, that stupid gimmick may just work. I think so, too, Carlos said. I talked to Marv and Cassandra, and theyre pretty excited about it. Man, Im starting to get jealous here, TJ said. Id like to be part of Elijah Nightshades Assembly, too. Maybe I could play Brother Tristan.

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Youre getting your own push, TJ, Jesses father said. Frank told me he was really impressed with your performance last night. Thanks, Mark. Collins says that hes planning to put me in a feud with Jason Cage. Ever since the Midnight Raiders split up and Sean LaRue left the company, the creative teams been looking for someone to work a program with Jason. Were about the same size, so I think we can put on some outstanding matches. Youve got a bright future ahead of you, TJ, Carlos said. And if the ACW can talk Judson Tanners people into agreeing to a match between you and him, you could be headlining The Final Stand in the spring. Jesse gave TJ a thumbs up. He was sure that TJ would soon be a top-tier wrestler in the ACW. Then the boys would have to respect him. And Goose wouldnt be able to refer to him as The Jobber. Jesses grandmother came in carrying steaming dishes of meat loaf, with kernel corn and green beans. She told Jesse to help her serve the iced tea. While they ate, Jesses father said, Pa, Im going to need Ramn Gonzlezs number to schedule an appointment for a haircut. You dont need an appointment, Marcos, Jesses grandfather said. Ramn takes walk-ins. I know, but Im going to need more than a haircut. Frank wants me to dye my hair and my eyebrows white as part of my Elijah Nightshade character. Shirley Washingtons already measured me for the white suits Ill be wearing. Are you still planning to debut as Elijah Nightshade Sunday night, Dad? Jesse asked. Yeah. At Checkmate , Ill cut a promo with Carlos, Marv and Cassandra standing alongside me. Ill preach

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about how were there to cleanse American Championship Wrestling of its transgressions. Then, during the main event, well interfere in the title match between Sloane and Savage and take out both wrestlers. I wish I was wrestling at Check mate , TJ said. Im not even being invited to go to the show. Since Im not on the card, Collins doesnt want to pay for me to be there. Youll get your chance, Carlos told him. In the meantime, continue to train hard and work hard. Study your craft. Learn to use psychology to tell stories in the ring. After they had eaten, Jesses grandmother told Jesse to get ready so she could take him for his driving lesson. Why dont you let me do that, Mrs. Baron? TJ asked. Jesse can drive my car. Thank you, TJ, but Jesses never driven any car but mine, she said. Jesse stared at TJ, hoping he wouldnt say anything about their outings. Well just drive around the neighborhood a few times, TJ said. Thats all. Ill make sure Jesse drives real slow. Its the least I can do to pay you back for this great dinner. She looked at Jesses father. Its okay, he said. She walked Jesse and TJ to the door. Now, mijo , TJs car isnt an old clunker like my Honda. Dont step too hard on the gas. A sporty car like TJs can get away from you if you dont watch it. Ill make sure Jesse drives carefully, Mrs. Baron, TJ said. Well be back shortly. Jesse sat in the drivers side of the car and buckled his seatbelt. Where to?

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Go down the street and turn right. Then get on I-35, TJ said. Lets go to the Dairy Queen. But Ive never driven on the highway before. Well, theres a first time for everything, Jesse. Youll do fine. Jesse drove up the ramp and onto the interstate without any problems. The Dairy Queen was four and a half miles ahead. When they arrived, TJ ordered two Heath Bars Blizzards. While they sat in a booth enjoying their treats, Jesse said, You looked like a completely different wrestler last night, TJ. Yeah, its amazing what you can do when youre allowed to use some offense, isnt it? But it was easy working with Chris. Wed already put on the same match at house shows. Plus, we used to wrestle against each other back in our SSW days. TJ sighed. I just wish my pops had seen my match. How do you know he didnt? Jesse asked. TJ snorted. My pops wouldnt watch Mond ay Night Mayhem if you tied him to his chair and sat him in front of the television with his eyes pried open. Thats too bad, Jesse said. How about your mom? Does she watch your matches? Probably not. She does whatever my pops tells her to do, so if he doesnt watch the show, neither does she. Maybe things will change once you make it big in the ACW, Jesse said. TJ wiped his mouth with a napkin and pushed his Blizzard cup to the side. Hey, listen, what are you doing this Sunday? I dont know. Going to church with my grandparents, I guess.

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And then? Well go home for lunch. Then me and my grandpa will watch football. The Cowboys are playing the Eagles. That ought to be a pretty good game. And then? Jesse wondered what TJ was leading up to, but he continued. At seven, well probably watch Check mate. TJ folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. Howd you like to take a little trip to Mexico with me this Sunday? Mexico? Jesse chuckled, thinking that TJ was kidding. I cant go to Mexico. Itll just be a quick trip. Well only be gone a few hours. You have a passport, right? TJ asked, recalling that Jesse had mentioned he had vacationed in Mexico City. Cause youll need it to get back into the U.S. Jesse could hardly believe what he was hearing. Cruising around San Antonio with TJ was one thing, but going with him to Mexico was out of the question. Man, Id love to go, TJ, I really would. But theres no way my grandparents or my father will let me. TJ wiggled an eyebrow. Who says they have to know? Jesses stomach tightened. TJ was serious. He really w as inviting him to go to Mexico. But what will I tell them? I mean, I cant be gone all day without having a good reason. TJ took the spoon out of his Blizzard cup and licked it. Im sure youll think of something. Why do you want to go to Mexico? Jesse asked, his heart palpitating at the thought of possibly making the trip with him.

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I um . . . I have some business I need to take care of there, and I need a translator to help me. But my Spanish isnt all that great, Jesse admitted. Are you kidding? I heard you sing that Mexican song that your pops wrote. I dont understand a word of Spanish, but you sounded pretty good. Yeah, but just because I can sing in Spanish doesnt mean I can speak it. Well, your Spanish has gotta be better than mine. TJ checked his watch. Come on, Id better get you home before your grandma starts to worry. Jesse drove back to his house. When he turned into the driveway, he saw the curtains from the front window pull back. He stepped out of the car and handed TJ his keys. You think about what we talked about, and let me know, TJ said. Okay?

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
ince the Sidewinders football season was over, there was no practice. The players were told to use the football period to work out. The temperature outside was fifty-seven degrees, perfect for running laps. Jesse and the guys used their time to jog around the track. After the fourth lap, they took a break and rested on the grass. While they sat there, Jesse thought about TJs invitation. TJ had said that it was a two-and-a-half hour trip to Nuevo Laredo from San Antonio. Add another two hours to cross the border on both sides, if the traffic was heavy. Then another hour to take care of his business. Jesse wished he could go, but how would he explain to his grandparents where he would be for approximately ten hours without alarming them? He considered telling them that he would be spending the day at Goose or Wendells house, but theyd never buy it. Four hours, maybe five, they might believe, but never ten. It also dawned on him that if he was to go to Mexico, no one would know where he was. Jesse had heard tons of horror stories about border towns, like Nuevo Laredo. He didnt think anything bad would happen to them, since he and TJ would only be there for a short time. But as a precaution, he decided to confide in the guys, even if it meant

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that Goose might hassle him about hanging out with The Jobber. Why does Masters want to go to Mexico? Wendell asked. He opened a water bottle and gulped a drink. I dont know, Jesse said. He says he has some business to take care of. Maybe he wants to buy some early Christmas presents, Bucky said. You know, like those marionette puppets. Man, I love those things. Goose grabbed his plastic bottle and squirted water on his face. Are you guys blind or what? I can tell you exactly why The Jobbersorry, JesseI mean, Masters wants to go to Mexico. The same reason lots of athletes go there, to buy steroids. Thats not why, Jesse replied sharply, but the thought had crossed his mind. His father had told him stories about how some of the boys in the locker room used anabolic steroids illegally to bulk up when they were being given a push. The ACW had a wellness program that prohibited the use of performance-enhancing drugs, such as steroids. Wrestlers could be suspended, or even fired from the company, if they were caught using them. Still, that didnt deter some of the boys, desperate to become main eventers, from using them and taking their chances. Come on, Jesse, Goose said. Wise up. Do you really think Masters wants to go all the way to Mexico to buy puppets? Thats not all they sell there, Bucky said indignantly. Steroids, Wendell muttered, shaking his head. Man, you couldnt pay me to take them. Coach Blaylock says that steroids can cause all kinds of health problems, like heart disease and high blood pressure. Im already at risk

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of having those problems because of my weight. I dont need steroids speeding things up for me. Not only that, Goose said, but if Coach catches anybody using them, hell kick them off the team, like he did Lloyd Dinsmore. Jesse remembered Lloyd Dinsmore. It was hard not to notice him. Lloyd was a huge defensive end with thick veins that popped out of his biceps. One of the first things Coach Blaylock did when he arrived was to force Lloyd to submit to a drug test because he suspected him of being on steroids. Ill bet you a dollar thats why he wants to go, Goose said. He drank the rest of his water, then tossed the bottle on the ground next to his towel. I hate to say it, Jesse, but I think Goose might be right, Wendell said. Yeah, Goose might be right, Bucky agreed. Jesse yanked a handful of grass from the ground and tossed it toward the track. So what if he is? What do you guys care what TJ does? I dont care what The Jobber does, Goose said. He stood and brushed the grass from the back of his shorts. But if he is planning to buy drugs in Mexico, and he gets caught, you and him could end up in huge trouble with the law. And I dont even wanna think about what it would be like to spend time in a Mexican prison. A sudden premonition of fear filled Jesses heart. He could envision TJ being stopped by the Border Patrol guards and TJ getting mouthy with them. Jesse had already talked his way out of going to jail once, but he didnt think the Mexican police would be as forgiving.

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Wendell gave Jesse a look of uneasy puzzlement. Why exactly do you want to go to Mexico with TJ? he asked. Jesse shrugged. Because he invited me. Its just something to do on a Sunday afternoon. Youre not thinking about buying steroids, too, are you? Wendell asked, scrutinizing Jesses face for clues. Jesse rose to his feet. You know, Im getting sick of all this. Ever since I started hanging out with TJ, you guys have been trying to run him down. Chill out, man, Goose said. Wendys got a legit concern. I dont give a flip about The Jobber, but I dont wanna see you get messed up because of him. Jesses eyes narrowed with contempt. You want to know what I think? I think you guys are jealous. You wish you could have an ACW superstar for a friend. You wish you could be me. Well, youre not. Youre just a bunch of losers who hang out with other losers. He grabbed his duffle bag and stalked off the field. When he arrived home from school that evening, Jesse went into his bedroom and called TJ. He needed answerslots of thembefore making a decision. TJ was at the Kemper Arena in Kansas City, getting set to wrestle Kid Dynamo. Before I agree to go to Nuevo Laredo with you, I need to know something, Jesse said with unusual bluntness. Are you going there to buy steroids? Why do you ask? Are you? There was a long pause. Finally TJ said, Understand this, Jesse. Im getting a push in the ACW, right? But if Im gonna reach the top, I need more mass. I mean, my size is okay when I go up against guys like Jason Cage or Tashira

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Nagasaki. But if Im gonna look credible against Solomon Grimm or Butcher Murdock or Jumbo Jefferson, I need to be bigger. The ACWs all about having the right look. You can be the most skilled performer in the ring, but if you dont have the right look, it doesnt matter. Thats why Chris isnt getting a push any more. He doesnt have the right look. Know what I mean? So thats why youre going to Mexico? Jesse asked, flinching at hearing his suspicions confirmed. To buy steroids? Look, if you dont wanna go with me, thats fine, TJ said curtly. I just thought Id invite you. But buying steroids without a prescription is illegal, even in Mexico, Jesse said. What if you get caught? Nothings gonna happen, Jesse. Believe me. People do it all the time. But even if the Border Patrol finds them on me, the worst thing thatll happen is that theyll confiscate my stuff and Ill have to pay a fine. Listen, Ive gotta go. The shows getting ready to start. Well talk later. Jesse sat his cell phone on his end table. As he did, he noticed the JAMAICAN RUDEBOYS CD Wally had given him sitting next to his lamp, so he decided to play it. The music wasnt bad; it had a good beat. He stretched out on his bed and gazed up at the blades on his ceiling fan as they slowly rotated. TJ sounded upset. But then, Jesse had come off talking to him like a scolding mother. What did it matter to him if TJ took steroids? TJ was an adult, capable of making his own decisions. Jesse worried that if he didnt go to Nuevo Laredo with him, perhaps TJ would stop inviting him to do other things. Maybe TJ would decide that Jesse was still a kid, not worth bothering with.

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But he would need an excuse for being gone all day a darn good one. As he listened to Wallys CD, an idea slowly formed in his mind. Would it work? Maybe. Yes, of course it would. The plan was brilliant!

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ts good to see you again, Wally, Jesses grandmother said. She and her husband were sitting on the front porch with their dog Pollo when Jesse and Wally arrived. Bue nas tard e s , Molly, Jesses grandfather said. Welcome to our house. Its Wally, Jesses grandmother corrected him. Jesses grandfather laughed. Dont be silly, Ofelia. Wallys a boys name. I heard you say Molly, like Jesses mami. My name is Wally, Mr. Baron. Wally Ann Mora. She hunched over and petted Pollo. What a beautiful dog. Thanks. His names Pollo, Jesse told her. Pollo? Wally asked. As in Spanish for chicken? Yeah. My grandparents named him Pollo because when he was a puppy, he used to be scared of their cat, Gremlin, Jesse said. Thats Gremlin hiding in the bushes. He pointed to a large black cat, who was staring at them with wide, green eyes. Pollo, Duck . . . Do you name all your dogs after birds? Wally asked. You would think so, Jesse said. He excused himself and Wally from his grandparents and took her inside the house. He smiled secretly. Step one of his plan had been set in place.

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After they left, Jesses grandfather asked his wife, Why would her parents name that girl Wally Ann? She was named after her father. She has a father named Wally Ann? Ay , Alfonso! Jesse took Wally to his room where he showed her his toy collection. The wrestling action figures were gifts from the company that makes them, Jesse said. He picked up a plaster bust of Superman ripping off his Clark Kent suit. I bought this one at a store in Dallas called Heroes and Villains when I spent the summer with my mom. Oh, yeah. Thats right. You mentioned that your mom teaches in Dallas, Wally said. Divorce must be tough, huh? At least you still have your parents. I never got to know my dad. Jesse pulled out a chair from his desk for Wally to sit on, and he sat on his bed. Does your mom talk about him much? Some. I know that he was Doctor Wallace Mora, a well-respected orthopedic surgeon at Southwest General Hospital. A doctor. Wow. My mom was a patient of his. She went to see him when she hurt her hip in a bike-riding accident. And like they say, the rest is history. Anyway, I have a ton of photos of him. He sort of looked like a young Tommy Lee Jones, the actor. Jesse took the JAMAICAN RUDEBOYS CD from its case and slipped it in his boom box. While it played, Wally bobbed her head in beat with the music. Then she rose from her chair, balled her hands, bent her elbows and began to dance. She stepped in with her right foot and crooked her left fist forward. She pulled her left arm back

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to her hip, and on the next beat, she repeated the same movement with her left foot and right fist. This is called skanking, Wally said. She took Jesses hand. Come on, Jessup, try it. Follow my moves. Jesse made his first attempt at skanking. A short while later there was a knock at the door. Jesses grandfather poked his head inside and said, Mijo , your papis here. Jesse turned off the music and led Wally into the living room. When she saw Jesses father, Wallys mouth fell open. Holy cats, Jessup! Is that your dad? Except for his height, Jesses father did not resemble the ominous-looking, long-haired, skeleton-face Angel of Death. His hair, shorter than Jesse had ever seen, had been dyed snow white. His thick eyebrows, too, were white. Dad, I want you to meet my friend, Wally. Shes the girl I told you about who found Duck. Nice to meet you, Molly. Wally! everyone said in unison. Its a real honor to meet you, sir, Wally said, shaking his hand. I am mega fan of yours. Really? So you watch Mond ay Night Mayhem ? Every week without fail. And Im ordering Check mate this Sunday. Jesses father crooked his mouth, indicating that he was impressed. Jesse hadnt expected Wally to mention that she was a wrestling fan, but by her saying so, helped solidify his plan. Is this your Elijah Nightshade look? Wally asked, her eyes fixed on Jesses father. Yes, and except for my barber, Ramn, you all are the first to see it. He excused himself and went to his room.

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Dont go to sleep, Marcos, Jesses grandmother called out. Supper will be ready soon. It was time for step two of his plan. Jesse innocently asked his grandmother, Is it all right if Wally eats with us? Thanks, Jessup, but I should be leaving, Wally said. I dont want to be in the way. She strapped her purse on her shoulder. No, you cant leave. Youll mess up everything! You wont be in the way, Jesse blurted out. Really. Were used to having company. Right, Gela? S, m ijita , Jesses grandmother said. Theres plenty of food. Call your mom and tell her that youre having dinner with us, Jesse said. The longer Wally remained at his house, the more credibility his story would have later. Jesse had planned to tell his grandparents that Wally had invited him to go to church with her on Sunday. After church, he would say, he would go out to eat with Wally and her mother. Then Wallys mother would drop them off at the movie theater at the mall to see the new action/adventure flick, The Missing Element. After that, he would spend the evening at Wallys house watching Check mate . There would be no reason for his grandmother to question him. She had already met Wallys mother. She had even been inside her home. By bringing Wally to his house, Jesse hoped his grandmother would assume they were dating. She would be happy that Jesse had found another girlfriend after his break up with Sara Young. Thanks for the invite, Mrs. B., Wally said after she called home.

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De nada , Jesses grandmother said. Alfonso, help me in the kitchen. And Jesse, why dont you play Wally that song on the guitar that you played for us a few weeks ago? The guitar? Wally said. Jessup, youre a man of many talents. You d ont k now the half of it, Jesse thought, gloating over his scheme. He picked up the guitar, and he and Wally sat on the couch. This song is about a woman who sneaks out of her house to go partying at a bar, Jesse explained. Her husband finds her dancing with another man, so he drags her out of the bar, takes her to an empty house and kills her. Then he shoots himself. Sounds like a real jolly tune, Wally joked. Jesse played and sang his song. He finished with Ya Julia est en el cielo, y el marid o en la prisin. Dad le a sus pad res consuelo, y que Dios les d e su perd n. Holy cats. What a downer, Wally said. And you said this is based on a true story? According to my grandfather, yeah, Jesse said. Well, I guess thats what happens when youre not where youre supposed to be, Wally said somberly. After dinner, Jesse and his grandmother took Wally home, but Jesse asked his grandmother to let him drive. When they arrived at her house, Jesse escorted Wally up the steps and went inside to see Samson, while his grandmother waited in the car. Jesse stole a peek through the Chinese fans that covered the windows. Because Wallys house stood on a hill, he couldnt see his grandmothers car below. Good. When they came back out, Jesse and Wally stood on the porch. Under the glow of the porch light, Jesse took her in his arms and kissed her lovingly on the lips.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
unday morning, Jesse was dropped off in front of Wallys house at nine oclock. He had told his grandmother that Wally wanted him to go to Sunday school with her. As soon as his grandmother drove away, Jesse hurried to the nearby Walmart parking lot, where TJ was sitting in his car, waiting for him. Glad you decided to come. Hop in. An exhilarating feeling rushed through Jesses body. Forget school. Forget the Sidewinders. Forget Riley King and ole whats her name. Forget Goose and Wendell and Bucky. This was the life! To be free to go and do whatever he wanted. Jesse rolled down his window and let the cool November air slap his face. Were going to Mxico, baby! Woo! he cried. TJ laughed. Yeah! Mxico! He turned up the volume on the radio as it blared out Lynyrd Skynyrds Sweet Home Alabama. Heading south on I-35, Jesse and TJ joked and laughed. They talked about football, wrestling and girls. Jesse couldnt recall when hed had this much fun, and they hadnt done anything yet. After a while, their energy subsided, and they rode in silence. Jesse curled up in his seat and took a nap.

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TJ cranked up the radio as Jim Morrison belted out Light My Fire. His pops hated the music TJ listened to, which TJ couldnt understand. The music came from his pops generation. But then, his pops rarely listened to music. His car radio buttons were all set on conservative talk radio stations. A few miles outside of Laredo, Jesse woke up. He looked out the window at the dry, grassy, open land. He thought about why they were traveling to Mexico, and a disturbing image of Johnny Surfer appeared in his mind. Johnny Surfer was a long-time jobber in the ACW who had died of a heart attack at age thirty-two. Jesses father said that the real cause of Surfers death was an enlarged heart, brought on by excessive steroid use. Jesse sat up and told TJ, My coach says that taking steroids isnt safe. He says that they can cause all kinds of health problems. Is that true? TJ gathered his thoughts. Then he said, Well, it depends on what you mean by safe. Is it safe to eat red meat? Theres research that says that eating red meat can cause heart disease. They even say that red meat contributes to the development of cancer. He turned down the volume on the radio. But thats not stopping McDonalds from selling Big Macs, right? The thing is, Jesse, youve gotta live your life. You cant be scared of trying out new things just cause they might be risky. Life is all about risks. TJ made sense. Sort of. Except that the difference between hamburgers and steroids was that it wasnt illegal to eat a hamburger. Still, Jesse couldnt help wonder what effects steroids would have on his body if he decided to take them. Would

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they build up his muscles like Popeyes? Would he look like Lloyd Dinsmore? He wanted to ask TJ to help him buy steroids, but he hadnt built up the nerve to ask him yet. He had brought along eighty dollars that he had withdrawn from his bank account just in case. Maybe he would ask TJ about the steroids once they were at the pharmacy. Shortly before noon, they arrived in downtown Laredo. Already, long lines had begun to form, as hundreds of Mexican nationals, as well as tourists and shoppers, made their way toward the Jurez-Lincoln International Bridge to cross into Nuevo Laredo, Tamaulipas, Mexico. TJ slammed his hand on the steering wheel and swore. This is what I was afraid of. Its gonna take forever to cross. Jesse looked at his watch and calculated how much time he had left. Check mate would end at around ten oclock, but his grandmother would expect him home soon after that. If he had to, he could call to say that he was staying at Wallys a little longer. But he had school the next day, and his grandmother would want him home no later than eleven. As they inched along the highway, TJ said, When we get to the border, the first thing theyll wanna know is where were from. Since Im a gringo, theyll probably ask us in English, but you never know. Thats where you come in. Jesse thought about what the question would sound like in Spanish. De d nd e son usted es? He would reply for the both of them: Somos d e San Antonio. And from what Ive been told, theyll also wanna know why were going to Mexico, TJ said. You tell them

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that we wanna to do some shopping and that well return to the U.S. as soon as were done. That part was tougher. Jesse wasnt sure if he could say all that in Spanish. His palms grew clammy, and his arm pits began to leak as reality began to sink in. What was he doing? He had no business going to Mexico. Jesse stared at the sea of cars ahead of them. He wished he could tell TJ to turn back, but it was too late. Once we cross the border, we have to find a place called Farmacia Maldonado, TJ said. Well ask for a guy who works there named Csar Diego. Hell help us get what we need. TJ patted Jesse on the back. Hey, buddy, dont look so serious. Everythings cool.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ally got out of bed and glanced at her wall clock. It was almost ten. She made her way to the kitchen, thinking her mother might be in there, having breakfast. The coffee pot was on, and there were dirty dishes in the sink. The Sunday newspaper was strewn on the breakfast table. Wally figured her mother had left for her Pilates class. Samson pawed at the sliding glass door, pleading to be let back in. Wallys mother had put him outside to do his business. Wally opened the door, and Samson trotted to his bowl and nibbled on his food. Wally poured herself a cup of coffee. She opened the pantry door and took out a box of granola bars, but to her disappointment, the box was empty. She could have sworn there were still two granola bars left. She tossed the box in the trash can and opened the fridge, wondering what else there was to eat. She brought out the egg carton, thinking she would make scrambled eggs, but she had a better idea. She checked the pantry to see if there was any bread. A few slices remained in the package, more than enough to make French toast. Wally whisked eggs, milk, cinnamon and a teaspoon of vanilla in a bowl. Then she dipped two slices of bread in

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the mixture and heated them on the griddle. French toast was one of the first meals her mother had taught her how to make. Wally sat at the table and searched for the Sunday comics to read while she ate. On the top part of the comics page was Luann, Wallys favorite comic strip. In it, Gunther had invited Luann to the dance, but she was putting him off, hoping another boy would ask her to go with him. Wally touched her lips and sighed, thinking about Jesses kiss. It had caught her completely by surprise. Yet, she didnt resist. Wally didnt realize Jesse felt that way about her. Sure, she had flirted with him, but she didnt think Jesse took her seriously. The last boy Wally kissed had been Andrew Albits. They had met the year before, when Wally was a freshman and Andrew was a senior. They went out a few times, but their relationship ended when Andrew graduated and moved to Tempe to attend Arizona State University. He promised to stay in touch, but after two brief emails, Wally never heard from him again. A jock. Wow. Who wouldve thought a jock would be interested in her? And on top of that, Jesses father was one of her all-time favorite wrestlers. The Luann comic strip reminded Wally that the Sadie Hawkins dance was coming up. Maybe she would ask Jesse if he wanted to attend the dance with her. On Sadie Hawkins Day, girls were encouraged to invite the boys to the dance. Wally had initially considered asking her friend Brandon to go with her, but she knew she would have a much better time with Jesse. Besides, Brandon wasnt into girls.

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Later, after she finished her chores, Wally thought she might stop by Jesses house when she took Samson for a walk. Jesse lived quite a distance away, but she didnt mind walking that far. She smiled, thinking about how surprised he would be when he saw them. Wally turned to Samson, who was sprawled on the floor, gnawing on a rawhide bone. What do you say, boy? Want to go see Jesse?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
he Border Patrol guards were dressed in dark-green army uniforms. Officers, standing on the side, held military-assault rifles at the waist, ready for action. Jesse tried not to act nervous, but his heart raced as TJ drove slowly down the NOTHING TO DECLARE lane. A signal light up ahead flashed green, and vehicles passed through without being inspected. Five cars later, TJ drove up to the checkpoint station. The Border Patrol officer spoke English so Jesse didnt have to translate. TJ calmly explained that they were American citizens from San Antonio, who wanted to spend a Sunday afternoon in Nuevo Laredo to shop for souvenirs and to enjoy great Mexican food. The officer waved them through. But just as TJ drove forward, a bell rang and the green light turned red. Jesses eyes widened. Suddenly, he worried about what TJ might have in his car. He glanced in the back seat. Beer bottles and fast-food bags and wrappers cluttered the floor. A customs agent approached their car. TJ rolled down his window and asked, Whats the problem, officer? Please pull over to the right and step out of the car, the agent said in broken English.

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Is there something wrong? TJ asked, furrowing his brows. Cause like I told the other gentleman, were just crossing over to do some shopping. Pull over to the right and step out of the car, The customs agent repeated, pointing to the inspection station. Come on, TJ, dont cause a scene, Jesse said. Do what he says. TJ huffed with indignation and muttered, All right. When he and Jesse got out, the customs agent asked, Do you have any firearms or drugs in the car? TJ flashed a superior grin. Take a look for yourself, amigo. The agent searched the front and back seats, the glove compartment and the trunk. When he was done, he said, Enjoy your stay. TJ drove across the bridge. When he stopped at a light, he turned to Jesse and said in a thick Mexican accent, Welcome to Mxico, seor. Jesse swallowed dryly. He couldnt believe where he was. As best as he could, he translated the street signs and guided TJ to the shopping district and Avenida Guerrero in downtown Nuevo Laredo. Dozens of vendors lined the narrow streets, selling everything from chewing gum to table cloths. Cars honked nonstop. Throngs of people walked in and out of shops. Jesse kept an eye out for the Farmacia Maldonado. He saw a number of other pharmacies: Farmacia Nuevo Laredo, Farmacia Aguilar, Farmacia El Norte, but not the one they wanted. Park your car, and Ill ask someone if they know where the pharmacy is, Jesse said.

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TJ drove into a lot where the attendant charged him five American dollars to park. As they got out of the car, a teenage boy about Jesses age approached them. The boy wore a yellow T-shirt and khaki shorts with tennis shoes, but no socks. He said something in Spanish that Jesse couldnt understand. The boy repeated what he had said, but this time he raised three fingers. He smiled, showing yellow teeth that matched the color of his T-shirt. Jesse finally figured out what the kid was saying. He wants you to give him three dollars to watch your car, TJ. But I already gave the attendant five bucks, TJ said, glaring at the boy. I know, but I remember Carlos Montoya telling my father that this is how some people in border towns make their money, by watching parked cars, Jesse said. You know, to make sure the cars are still in the lot when the owners return. Im not giving him anything, TJ said. I think youd better or something could happen to your car. TJ sighed. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and fished out three one-dollar bills. The boys eyes bulged when he saw the stack of twenties in TJs wallet. Youve got quite a little scam running here, dont you, amigo, TJ told the boy. Dnd e est Farmacia Mald onad o? Jesse asked. The boy pointed across the street and said something that Jesse didnt quite understand. The pharmacys over there somewhere, Jesse told TJ. TJ scowled at the boy and said, Nothing better happen to my car, amigo. You comprend e ? The boy nodded.

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Jesse and TJ crossed the street and walked down the sidewalk, trying not to get separated in the crowds. They passed clothing and shoe stores, jewelry shops and two dentist offices. Vendors sold T-shirts, baseball caps and other souvenirs from tables under sidewalk tents. Jesse felt surprisingly safe. With this many people around, he didnt think anything bad could happen to them. He checked his watch. They had plenty of time. You hungry? TJ asked. A little, Jesse said. Theres a McDonalds down the street. McDonalds? TJ laughed. We didnt come all the way to Mexico to eat at a Mickey Dees. Come on, Jesse. Find us a place that serves authentic Mexican food. Jesse spotted a pink building with a sign in front that read, Restaurante La Ciudad. Lets check out that place. The restaurant was empty, which concerned Jesse. Maybe the locals knew something about the place, which was why no one was eating there. Or, he hoped, maybe it was late Sunday afternoon, and business wouldnt pick up until the evening. At any rate the restaurant looked clean. A man greeted Jesse and TJ and told them they were welcome to sit wherever they pleased. He handed them a couple of menus and left. TJ tried to read his menu, but none of the dishes looked familiar. Anything here you can recommend, Jesse? he asked. How about cabrito ? Thats pretty good. Whats cabrito ? Baby goat. TJ frowned. Lets see what else theyve got. He read farther down the menu. Whats lengua ?

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Lengua is tongue. That tastes pretty good, too. Ugh. Lets go with the baby goat, TJ said. The man who seated them took their order. Jesse was thankful for the lesson on restaurant phrases he had learned in his Spanish class. While they waited, Jesses cell phone rang. He checked the caller ID. It was his grandmother, but he didnt answer his phone. If she questioned him later as to why he hadnt picked up, he would say that he and Wally were at the movies and that he didnt want to disturb anyone in the theater. When the phone stopped ringing, the red alert light began to blink. His grandmother had left a message. Jesse listened to it, hoping there wasnt an emergency at home. The message said: Jesse, where are you? Your friend Wally is here at the house, and she said you never went to see her. Jesses face turned pale. Im busted ! She k now s!

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
esse tried to remain calm. All his grandmother knew for certain was that he hadnt gone out with Wally. He ran a number of other excuses through his mind. He could claim that he had been with Goose or Wendell, but that wouldnt make any sense. Why would he lie about hanging out with them? He would have to come up with a good reason for why he had asked his grandmother to drop him off in front of Wallys house. The cabrito dinner with rice, beans and corn tortillas was delicious, but Jesse couldnt eat it. His stomach had shriveled up with fear. Dont sweat it, man, TJ said when Jesse told him about the phone call. Heres what you do. Tell your grandma that you spent the day with me at my apartment. Tell her that we went out for breakfast and that we worked out at the gym. Make up a story like you did about Wally. We went to the show after we worked out, and you stayed at my place to watch Check mate with me. Jesses anxiety eased for a moment. That could work. Jesses grandparents would be furious that he had lied to them, and his father would chew him out for spending the day with TJ after he had told him not . . . No, he didnt say not to hang out with TJ. He said to be careful with him.

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But, Dad, we just went out to eat and to the movies, thats all. The rest of the time, we hung out at TJs apartment. Jesse would explain that he had concocted the story about Wally because he didnt want his father to be upset that he had spent the day with TJ. No matter what you tell your grandma, Ill cover for you, TJ said. I dont have a lot of friends, but the ones I do have, I take care of. Now, come on. Eat. Your baby goats getting cold. Jesse thought about calling his grandmother so he could set his new lie in place, but he quickly decided against it. She might order him to come home immediately, and he couldnt very well do that. After they ate, Jesse asked the cashier if she knew where the Farmacia Maldonado was. She took them outside and pointed to a white, two-story building at the far end of the street. On the way to the pharmacy, they passed a shop that sold wrestling masks. Most of the masks, Jesse didnt recognize, but a few, like La Parka and Octagn, he was familiar with. Lets take care of business first, TJ said. Then well stop by here on our way back. Farmacia Maldonado was not much different from the pharmacies Jesse had shopped at in San Antonio. Rows of shelves with medicines and vitamins filled each aisle. Jesse approached a man who was stocking a shelf with aspirin boxes. He took a deep breath and said, Perd n, pero estam os buscand o a Csar Diego. The man straightened. Aqu no trabaja nad ie con ese nom bre. Jesse turned to TJ. The guy said theres no Csar Diego who works here.

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Are you sure? Maybe you heard wrong. Ask him again. Csar Diego, Jesse repeated. Yo no conozco a nad ie con ese nombre , the man replied. Okay, gracias, Jesse said. He led TJ down the aisle. What do we do now? Ask him about steroids, TJ said. I dont know how to say steroids in Spanish, Jesse said. Just tell him you want to by steroids. Im sure the guys heard the word before. Steroids? a voice said. A tall, slender man came from around the corner of the aisle. He wore a long-sleeve black shirt and black pants. His dark hair was slicked back, and a pencil-thin mustache stretched across his upper lip. You aint gonna find steroids here, he said in English. But I can show you where you can get them. TJ stretched out his hand and said, Hola, amigo. Im TJ Masters, and this is my buddy, Jesse Baron. The man shook his hand. Im Mauricio. He squinted with a hint of recognition and asked, Havent I seen you before? You ever watch American Championship Wrestling? TJ asked. Mauricio grinned. Youre a wrestler on that show, right? Exactly, TJ said. So you say you can help us get what were looking for? Yeah. Csar Diego, the dude youre looking for, he dont work here no more, Mauricio said. He works somewhere else. Ill show you. He started out the door.

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Jesse held TJ back. I dont know about this, TJ. That guy looks kind of shady. TJ chuckled. You worry too much, Jesse. The guys cool. They followed Mauricio out of the store, and he escorted them down the sidewalk. When they crossed the street, Jesse noticed three men, who were standing outside a liquor store, suddenly start walking behind them. Jesse leaned into TJ and whispered, I think those guys might be following us. TJ looked back. The sidewalk was full of people, and the three men blended in with the crowd. How much farther, amigo? he asked. Its right over here, Mauricio said, picking up the pace. He turned into an alley. Okay, were here. Where? TJ said. I dont see anything. The three men turned into the alley and blocked the entrance. Gimme your wallets, Mauricio said. The men closed in, circling Jesse and TJ. Youre crazy if you think Im gonna give up my hardearned money to the likes of you, TJ said angrily. Im TJ Masters. I . . . ungh ! TJ! Jesse screamed as he watched one of the men strike TJ again with a metal pipe. He turned to run, but as he did, a two-by-four caught him on the chest and then in the middle of his forehead. Aahh! Jesse reeled back and flailed his arms, trying to maintain his balance. The world filled with flickering lights and patches of gray. Jesse fell to the ground. Before he passed out, he saw a blurry yellow T-shirt and khaki shorts standing over him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
o, maam, I dont know where Jesse is, Wendell told Jesses grandmother. Yes, maam, Ill let you know if I hear from him. This was the third time she had called. Wendell hung up, and then tried calling Jesse again. Still no answer. He looked up at the clock. It was after six. Why wasnt Jesse picking up? Wendell worried that something terrible might have happened to him. He and Jesse had been friends since the seventh grade, but they had grown closer after Jesses parents divorced. Wendell had experienced divorce when his father left his mother for someone younger, prettier and slimmer. Wendell hadnt offered Jesse much advice, except to assure him that the divorce wasnt his fault. For years, Wendell had battled with that problem. When his father walked out of his life, Wendell was convinced that one of the reasons he left was because his father was embarrassed to have a fat wife and a fat son, and he didnt want to be seen with them. The endless fat jokes hurled at Wendell at school only compounded the problem. By the time he reached the eighth grade, Wendell had ballooned to three hundred fifty-five pounds. Looking back, he realized that one of the reasons for his escalating weight gain was that, subconsciously, he wanted to force

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his father to accept him for who he was, not what he looked like. Finally, when he came to terms with the fact that he would probably never see his father again, Wendell decided to lose weight, not for his father, but for himself. And he did it the hard way, through diet and exercise. He didnt fall for those phony weight-loss ads on TV. He didnt waste his money buying one of those gadgets that claimed to help tone your body by using it for only three minutes a day, either. And he wasnt interested in taking steroids. Wendell couldnt understand why Jesse was contemplating using them. Or that he would go to Mexico with TJ Masters to buy them. Steroids werent a magic formula that you took and then instantly became Mr. Universe. He tried calling Jesse again. Nothing. Where are you, man? Why d ont you answ er? Wendell hated to snitch Jesse out, but he was beginning to think he had no choice. Jesses grandmother sounded panicky on the phone. Whatever story Jesse had made up about his absence hadnt worked. Jesses grandmother would be upset, first with Jesse and TJ, then at Wendell, for lying to her, but at least she would know where Jesse was. Wendell picked up the phone. He hoped Jesse would understand.

CHAPTER THIRTY
esse staggered to his feet. His head and chest pulsated with pain. He pressed his hand gingerly against his forehead and felt a knot the size of a golf ball. TJ lay on the gravel-covered ground, unconscious. Blood poured from a thick laceration on his left eyebrow and from his nose. His face was bruised and swollen, and his shirt was ripped. TJ! Jesse walked unsteadily toward him. His knees buckled, but he was able to catch his balance. He reached for his cell phone but his pockets were empty. His wallet and passport were gone, too. He squatted next to TJ and shook him, but he didnt stir. Jesse rose to his feet and tottered out of the alley, leaning against the side of a building for support. Help, he cried weakly. Ayd enme . Jesse looked around, hoping someone would stop, but people walking by glared at him, and then circled around him and kept going. Jesse seized a man by his shirt. Ayd eme! Please! Me and my friend, we got mugged. The man pulled himself free. He muttered something Jesse didnt understand and hurried away.

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Finally, a young woman cradling a baby, and holding a little boy by the hand, stopped. Oiga, qu le pas? she asked. Help me, Jesse pleaded. Me and my friend were attacked and robbed. The woman regarded him quizzically. Lo siento, pero no entiend o lo que me est d iciend o . Jesses mind was muddled, confused. How could he say, We were attacked in Spanish? Attacko! Attacko! he yelled, balling his fists and gesturing wildly. The woman looked down at her son. Qu d ice ? The little boy shrugged. Que quiere un taco . No, not a taco! Jesse cried in frustration. We were attacked. Boom! Boom! Boom! Again he gestured with his fists. A sharp pain stabbed his chest, and he broke into a cough. Im sorry, but . . . Jesse held his hand to his chest. . . . tengo d olor en mi pechuga . The woman and the little boy snickered. Jesse realized that he had just told them that he had pain in his chicken breast. Tengo d olor en mi pecho , he corrected himself. He motioned for them to follow him into the alley. Vengan, vengan. The woman peered into the alley. Her eyes widened when she saw TJs body. Then to Jesses relief, she let go of the little boys hand, reached into her purse and pulled out a cell phone. An hour and ten minutes later, Jesse sat in the emergency room waiting area of La Cruz Roja Mexicana Hospital. He held an ice pack to his forehead. A paramedic in the ambulance had given it to him, but it was the only treatment he had received for his injuries. Jesse glimpsed around the crowded room. Who knew how long he would have to wait until he would be seen by

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a doctor? A knot on the head was not exactly a priority. Pregnant women, crying babies and the sick and the elderly filled every seat. A man with his arm in a makeshift sling stood with his back to the wall. Jesse offered him his chair, but the man kindly declined. The doctors would not reveal any information to Jesse about TJs condition since he wasnt a relative, but he knew it couldnt be good. TJ hadnt woken once since the attack, not even after the paramedics carried him into the ambulance and placed an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. The police had shown up at the scene first. Between their broken English and Jesses broken Spanish, they were able to write a report, with descriptions of the attackers. Jesses grandmother now knew the truth. Jesse had asked the woman who found them to let him borrow her cell phone. He called his grandmother and confessed everything. To his surprise, she already knew that he was in Mexico. Jesse figured that Goose or Wendell must have snitched on him. Thank goodness for snitches. His grandmother told him to stay at the hospital until she came to pick him up. No problem there. Where else was he going to go? Looking at the number of patients ahead of him, Jesse wondered who would see him first, the doctor or his grandparents. A little boy about two years old with green snot bubbling inside his nostrils waddled up to Jesse and patted him on the leg. Aba, he said. Aba. Aba. The little boys mother smiled at Jesse, wanting his approval. He grimaced and pointed to his forehead to indicate that he didnt feel well. The mother nodded sympathetically. Ven ac, mi am or, she told her son.

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The little boy looked at his mother briefly, then turned back to Jesse. Aba, he said and patted Jesses leg harder. Jesse scooted his legs to the side of his chair and crossed his arms. The little boys lower lip curled up and his face contorted. He ran back to his mother with his arms outstretched. She lifted him and sat him on her lap. Then she took a wrinkled handkerchief from her purse and wiped his nose. Jesse couldnt believe he had allowed himself to get talked into going to Mexico. He had more sense than thator so he thought. He should have learned his lesson about going out with TJ after getting pulled over by the cop on Halloween night and nearly getting arrested. But you d id nt, d id you? You w anted TJ to buy you steroid s. You w anted to bulk up lik e Lloyd Dinsmore so you could beat up that loud -mouth jerk , Riley King. What did it matter if Riley was a loud-mouth jerk? It occurred to Jesse that he had been spending time with an even bigger loud-mouth jerk. When this was over, Jesse expected his father to reprimand him for what he had done. He would probably tell him that he didnt want him hanging out with TJ anymore. His father didnt have to worry. Jesse decided that TJ lived way too fast for him. He wished he could undo the whole day and start over. He wished he had gone to church with Wally and her mother, and to lunch afterwards. He wished he had taken Wally to the movies and then watched wrestling at her house. Scoring a date with Wally was unlikely to happen now. She wasnt dumb. She had to have realized that Jesse had used her as an alibi for sneaking off to Mexico. After he got

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back home, he would apologize and beg, if he had to, for her forgiveness. Wally was too special to lose. Jesse dozed on and off in his chair. Almost three hours later, his mother jostled him awake. For a second, Jesse thought he was back home, living with his parents. My god, what happened? his mother exclaimed. She brushed back Jesses hair from his forehead. Mijo , how do you feel? Are you all right? Jesse hugged her tightly. What are you doing here, Mom? I thought Gelo and Gela were picking me up. They were. But when your grandmother called to tell me where you were, I told her I would come for you. I caught a flight to Laredo and rented a car there. Jesse looked around the still crowded waiting area for an extra chair, but there were no empty seats. Lets go out in the hallway, he said. He knew his mother was going to chew him out, and he didnt need an audience. They walked out of the room and stood against a wooden railing on the wall. Jesses mother took his head in her hands and assessed his injury. Have you been seen by a doctor yet? No. They just told me to sit in the waiting room. A paramedic gave me this. Jesse showed her the bag, which was now filled with melting ice. Mijo , you could have a concussion, his mother said. They shouldnt have let you fall asleep. Whos in charge here, anyway? That lady, I guess. Jesse pointed to a heavy-set woman behind the triage desk. But it wont do any good talking to her. I asked her when I would get to see a doctor, and all she would say was that I had to wait my turn.

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His mother rolled her eyes, but accepted that despite Jesses injury, there were others in the waiting room in worse condition. So tell me what happened, she said. Jesse kept the details to a minimum. He explained that he and TJ had decided to spend a Sunday afternoon in Nuevo Laredo just for fun. He didnt mention anything about steroids. His mothers face hardened and her concern transformed to anger. How could you have been so stupid, Jesse? Dont you know the reputation this town has? About kidnappings and murders and drug cartels? And you and TJ thought youd spend the day here? Just for fun? Jesse looked nervously around the hallway to see if anyone was watching them. We didnt expect anything to happen, Mom, he said. But it did, didnt it! Look what youve put me through, she said, exasperated. Look what youve put your gelos through. Does Dad know? Jesse asked. Of course. What did he say? His mother crossed her arms and crimped her mouth in annoyance. He said he would see you when he got back home Wednesday or Thursday. Like Ive told you before, Jesse, his career comes first. It always will. Jesse tried to accept that his father was premiering his new gimmick at an important pay-per-view event, and that he couldnt drop everything and leave. Still, he wished his father was with him. It would be the first time he would see his parents together since their divorce. Can we get out of here? he asked hopefully.

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Not until the doctor sees you, his mother said. I want to know that youre all right. But afterwards, well check into a hotel. Then Ill contact the U.S. Consulate in the morning and let them know what happened. They made their way back to the waiting area, and Jesse let her have his chair. A few minutes later, a man burst through the emergency room doors and hurried up to the triage desk. My name is Brett Masters, he told the admitting nurse. You have my son here. His name is Tristan Masters. The man looked like an older version of TJ. Jesse waited for Mr. Masters to finish speaking with the nurse, who was explaining how to get to the intensive care unit. As Mr. Masters rushed down the hallway, Jesse caught up with him and introduced himself. What were you boys doing in Mexico? Mr. Masters demanded to know. It was just a weekend getaway, sir, Jesse said. We were only going to spend a few hours here. When they arrived at the ICU, they found TJ asleep in a small room. Wires ran from his body to various monitors. An IV was attached to his arm, and he was breathing through a respirator. Jesse and TJs father learned that TJ had suffered a severe concussion, broken ribs, a collapsed lung, a ruptured kidney, a broken collar bone and a broken arm. Mr. Masters brushed back TJs hair and sighed. Jesse heard him utter what sounded like a prayer. Jesse bowed his head and, in silence, offered a prayer, too. Mr. Masters wiped a tear from his eye. He turned to Jesse and asked, How do you know Tristan? Jesse explained their relationship.

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You know, ever since Tristan began appearing on television, weve watched each one of his matches, Mr. Masters said. Really? Jesse said, surprised. TJ didnt think you had. He told me that you dont care about wrestling. Well, hes right about that, Mr. Masters admitted. No disrespect toward your father, Jesse, but professional wrestling wasnt the career we wanted for our son. But as long as Tristans making an honest living, and hes doing what he wants to do, I guess thats all that matters. Maybe you should tell him that, sir, Jesse said, though looking down at TJ, he thought it would be a long time before TJ would step inside a wrestling ring again.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
ou look absolutely devilish, Mark, Cassandra said, peeling off a piece of thread from the back of his coat. Mark Baron studied his reflection in his dressing room mirror. The white contact lenses completed his new look. He buttoned his coat and brushed back his white hair. I wouldnt use devilish to describe him, Cassandra, Carlos said with a wink. Marks a holy man, now. Hes a reverend. Oh, excuse me. Cassandra stretched out her arms and bowed. Mark tried not to show it, but his ex-wifes phone call had left him shaken. He hadnt told anyone about what had happened to Jesse and TJ, except for Frank Collins because Mark needed TJs emergency number so he could notify his family. He had wanted to leave the building to catch an early flight home as soon as he heard the news, but he couldnt. The ACW was counting on him to sell his new persona. His storyline had already been written. In a few minutes he and Cassandra, Marv and Carlos would be walking out in front of thousands of rabid fans, and he couldnt let them down.

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My suit itches, Marv complained. I hate this thing. He removed his coat and draped it on a chair. I think Id rather wear that ratty, moth-eaten poncho I wore to the ring as Devlin Dredd than this dad-gum monkey suit. At least you guys get to wear suits, Cassandra said. This dress is so tight I can barely breathe in it. I dont mind the suit, Carlos said, adjusting his tie. The only thing is, thisll be the first time Ill appear in the ring without my mask since my early days. I feel kind of naked without it. Mark stepped out of his dressing room and walked down a corridor of the Joe Louis Arena in Detroit. He needed to be alone for a few minutes. His love for the business, he realized, was slowly dwindling. And it wasnt because of the Elijah Nightshade gimmick. He had learned to accept his new role. But at his age, his body couldnt take the beatings it once did. His injuries took longer to heal. There was a time when goosebumps filled his arms each time his music hit. Mark used to thrive on the showmanship and the raw energy of stepping into a ring to perform in front of thousands of fans in attendance and millions more watching at home. Lately, though, he had found himself merely going through the motions. Even during his last promo as the Angel of Death, he had difficulty staying focused, and his mind drifted off as he delivered his lines. Professional wrestling had given him a great life. Mark had accomplished things most people could only dream of. He had traveled around the world, met countless fans and had made more money than he would ever need. But his career had also cost him his marriage. And almost his son. Perhaps if he had been home more often,

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Jesse wouldnt have felt the need to find new excitement in his life. It dawned on him that he knew very little about his son. He couldnt even remember his age. When Jesse corrected him on it, Mark felt like crawling under a rock. Sixteen, not fifteen. And Jesses birthd ay is . . . Mark knew it was sometime in December, but he couldnt remember if it was the twelfth or the thirteenth. Or was it the ninth? Molly had always handled their sons birthday celebrations. Jesse had grown up, and somehow Mark had missed it. He couldnt believe Jesse was driving. When did that happen? He had told Jesse that hed buy him a car once he got his license, but he didnt anticipate that happening for years. He wished he had attended Jesses football games. Maybe if he had pushed hard enough, Frank would have given him those days off. But in the end, Mark had allowed his ego to come first. Entertaining a bunch of strangers had become more important to him than cheering on his son. Out in the arena, he heard the roar of the crowd. Black Mamba had just defeated Solomon Grimm to retain his Iron Fist title. Elijah Nightshade and the Assembly were next. Following his match, Black Mamba walked down the corridor on his way to his dressing room. He was drenched in perspiration and breathing heavily. How did it go, Karl? Mark asked. Black Mamba gaped at him, pop-eyed. Whoa, Mark. You look awesome. Those white contacts are creepy, man. Thanks.

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Here, help me undo my mask. Mamba lowered his head. What did Jesse think when he saw you in that getup? The laces were wet with perspiration, and Mark was having difficulty untying the knot. He, uh . . . I bet he freaked out, right? Mamba laughed. I remember when he was a little kid, Jesse used to run away whenever he saw you with the skeleton face make-up. Hows he doing? Still playing football? Solomon Grimm came up the same corridor. He and Mamba shook hands, as wrestlers typically do, after theyve fought each other. Good match, Karl. Yeah, likewise. Mamba rubbed his chest. Next time, go a little easier on those chops, Herman. Would ya? Theyre brutal. Hey, dats how I play da game, Grimm replied without apologies. I owe it to my fans to . . . Geez, Mark, is dat you? Youre looking at the newest addition to the roster, Herman, Mamba said. Meet Elijah Nightshade. While they were talking, Wes Meir walked up to Mark and said, Get ready. Youre on in three minutes. Here, Herman. Help Karl with his mask, Mark said. Ive got to go. He followed Wes down the hall and stopped in front of his dressing room. Before he turned the knob, he lowered his head and took a deep breath. I cant do this, Wes. Wes Meir wheeled around. Whats the matter, Mark? Is the door locked? No. I . . . I cant do this anymore. Wes blinked with surprise. What are you talking about?

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I cant go out there. Ive had it. I need to go home. What? Come on, Mark. Quit kidding around. Youre up in less than two minutes. Mark opened his dressing room door and trudged inside. Go get Frank! Wes frantically told a crew member. Hurry! Marks dressing room was empty. Marv, Cassandra and Carlos had gone to the main dressing room with the other performers. Mark picked up his cell phone and started to make a call when Frank and Wes burst into the room. Whats the problem, Mark? Frank asked. Im done, Frank. Ive got to go home. Jesse needs me. But, Mark, weve got a show to put on. Jesse will be okay. Didnt you say he and TJ were in a hospital? You can leave here right after the show. Hospital? Wes said. What are Jesse and TJ doing in a hospital? Were they in an accident or something? Ignoring him, Mark said, You dont understand, Frank. I dont want to do this anymore. Im not in any shape to go out in front of the audience. Okay, um . . . well kill the promo, Frank said, realizing he had no choice. He turned to Wes. Find Carlos and Marv and Cassandra. Tell them that were putting off the Elijah Nightshade segment until tomorrow. Well do it on Mond ay Night Mayhem . No, Frank. Youre not hearing me, Mark said. Im quitting. Im retiring. As of right now, I no longer work for the ACW. Franks jaw dropped. Mark, youre not being sensible. Weve got big plans for you. Doesnt matter. Sorry, Frank, but I need to be with my boy.

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Frank had known this day was coming. Mark had talked about it many times. He just hadnt expected for it to happen this way. But by the look in Marks eyes, and the tone in his voice, he knew that nothing he said was going to change Marks mind. No need to berate him. No need to threaten him with talk about a breach of contract. Frank embraced his long-time friend and said, Thats okay, Mark. Go home. Take care of Jesse. Well figure something out.

EPILOGUE
n Monday, December twelfth, Jesse celebrated his seventeenth birthday. His grandmother had told him he could invite a few friends over after school for dinner and birthday cake. Jesse and Wally walked hand in hand down the sidewalk. Goose, Wendell and Bucky trailed behind them. When Jesse arrived home, he saw a black Dodge Challenger sitting in his grandparents driveway. He couldnt believe TJ had driven all the way from Amarillo to visit him on his birthday. Come on, I want you to meet someone, Jesse told Wally. They hurried up the walkway. But just as they reached the steps, Jesses parents and grandparents came out of the house. Surprise! they shouted. Jesse looked at them, confused. He had known that his mother would be flying in from Dallas for his birthday so that wasnt really a surprise. He greeted her with a hug and a kiss, then introduced her to Wally. Wheres TJ? he asked his father. TJ? Hes not here. Then whats his car doing in the driveway?

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His father grinned. Thats not his car, champ. Its yours. What? Happy birthday. Holy cats! Wally cried. Holy cats! Bucky echoed. Hijo , Goose said. Wendell let out a soft whistle. Jesse gawked at the car. Dad, are you serious? TJ told me how much you loved his car, so I figured you might enjoy having one like it. Jesse wrapped his arms around his father, something he hadnt done in a long time. Thanks, Dad. This is the most awesome present Ive ever gotten. His father handed him the keys. I thought, whats the use in having a drivers license if you dont have a car to drive? Jesse walked around the car and studied its features: black exterior and a black leather interior; dual round headlamps, cast aluminum wheels and a 5.7L HEMI engine. It was the most beautiful car he had ever seen. Take us for a ride, Goose said. Jesse looked at his father. He smiled and said, Go ahead. Dont be gone too long, his grandmother said. Supper will be ready soon. Jesse and his friends got inside his carJesse and Wally in front and the guys in the back. Jesse gripped the steering wheel and breathed in the new-car smell. He looked out the window and saw his mother and father standing together, smiling and waving at him. His eyes grew misty. If only they could be that way all the time.

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Um, Ive never driven a car, Jessup, Wally said. But I think youre supposed to put the key in the ignition to make it go. Jesse sniffled. Thats what they tell me, he said. Wally noticed the tears in his eyes. Are you okay, Jessup? Yeah, my allergies are acting up, thats all. Jesse wiped his eyes and sniffled again. Wally looked at Jesses parents and understood the reason for the tears. She kissed Jesse on the cheek and said, Theres a lot of that going around. But dont worry. Ive got something thatll take care of it. She reached into her messenger bag and took out a piece of peppermint candy. Jesse popped it in his mouth. He turned on the ignition and asked, Where do you guys want to go? Take her out on the highway, Goose said. Lets see what this baby can do. Id better not, Jesse said. I dont need any more trouble from the law. Lets go see Christmas lights, Bucky suggested. Theres a neighborhood near the mall where people go all out to decorate their houses. Naw, man, Goose said. Thats the kind of stuff you take little kids to see. Just drive, Wendell said. It doesnt matter where we go. Jesse pulled out of the driveway and took his friends around the neighborhood. His best friends. They must have been his best friends if they kept forgiving him for being such a jerk. Jesse had spoken to TJ only once since the attack. TJ didnt offer any apologies for the trouble he had caused him. Mainly he complained about how he was afraid of

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losing his spot once he returned to the ACW, if he was allowed to return at all. TJ was afraid that the ACW officials would lose interest in him and not renew his contract. Mark had always spoken up for him, but now that he was gone from the company, there was no one else TJ could count on for support. Jesse chatted with him for about ten minutes, but he found he had little to say to TJ. After a few minutes of driving, Jesse headed back to his house. His grandmother fixed his favorite meal, mole with rice and beans. After they had eaten, Jesses grandmother brought out a birthday cake. His father picked up his guitar and led those who knew the words in singing Las Maanitas, as well as The Birthd ay Song . At eight oclock, everyone sat in the den to watch Mond ay Night Mayhem . On television, Elijah Nightshade stood in the center of the ring with Brother Jeremiah and Sister Ruth at his side. Throughout his seventeen-year career, Marvin Snider had wrestled as Marv the Whip Snider, the Constable, the Golden Gladiator, Demented Devlin Dredd, and now, Elijah Nightshade. He wore a white suit with a white shirt and white tie. His hair and eyebrows had been dyed white, and white contact lenses covered the irises in his eyes. With a microphone in his hand, he made the following proclamation before the packed Van Andel Arena in Grand Rapids, Michigan: The wicked have remained unpunished; their hearts are replete with sin, They bask in the shadows of darkness; no light goes out or in.

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Molly turned to Mark and made a face. Did you write that? He chuckled. Yeah. Ive been writing Marvs promos while Harold is on vacation. Hopefully Harold will come up with better material once he returns. Do you miss it? Molly asked. Performing? No, not really. Theres no not really, Jesse heard Officer Padilla say in his mind. Besides, I have plenty of things to do to keep me busy. Like taking Jesse to the Spurs games. Right, champ? Right, Jesse said, smiling. So are you still going to buy the Pro Wrestling Factory from Ox Mulligan? Molly asked. I dont know yet. Ox is getting up in years, but he doesnt want to shut down the wrestling school. Hes made me a great offer, but Ive never trained anyone. Im not sure what kind of teacher I would be. Molly patted Mark on the back. I think youll make a great one. Jesse turned to them and said, Hey, I just realized something. If Dad buys the wrestling school, youll both be teachers. Molly rose from the couch. Speaking of teaching, I need to get back to Dallas. Ive got to work tomorrow. She picked up her purse. Mark, can you give me a ride to the airport?

All sinners shall answer to the Assembly and to the prophet Elijah Nightshade!

But we shall expose their transgressions, as we continue our crusade;

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He looked at her with pleading eyes and asked, Why dont you stay here tonight? Call your principal and tell him you wont be in tomorrow. I . . . I cant, she said with a shake of her head. Mark stood and took her hand. Lets go to the kitchen where we can talk privately. I have some things Id like to discuss with you. On television, as Elijah Nightshade finished his promo, O Fortuna played in the background. The arena lights darkened and a white, blinding light emanated from the top of the stage. Elijah Nightshade and the Assembly exited the ring and made their way toward it. They paused at the stage entrance and gazed up at the audience. Elijah Nightshade left the crowd with these parting words: Turn away from your wickedness, let your hearts be contrite. Lest you pay dearly, until you see the light.

Jesse touched his forehead and said to himself, Amen, brother. Amen.

Also by Ray Villareal

Dont Call Me Hero Alamo Wars

My Father, the Angel of Death Whos Buried in the Garden?