Wrestling the Russian

by Desean Rambo

  “Fight back Brianna,” he commanded.

  We redid the spot over and the second time I fought out of the front mount. It did not matter though. Soon as I got back to my feet Yegor hit me with a front kick, then slammed me down to the mat in his special DDT. I laid down for the three count pin.

  Afterwards, Mark went over everything with us in tedious detail. He was extremely impressed with how far I came. I was proud of myself as I beamed with confidence for the rest of the day.

  “You did well,” was all Yegor could say, coldly. I knew he enjoyed my performance whether he would admit it or not.

  ***

  Another surprise was waiting for me when I got back to Tony’s.

  I unlocked the door and let myself into the apartment as I’d done many times in the past only this time something was different. The light was on in Little T’s room. I walked in and saw the little boy playing on the bed.

  “Who are you?” he asked me.

  “I’m your cousin Brianna,” I told Little T.

  “You know my dad?” the cute boy asked.

  “Your dad is my first cousin. I’ve known him since I was a little girl,” I said.

  “Do you live here?” the boy asked. He was in the question asking phase of life.

  “She’s only here until she goes to Orlando,” Tony boasted as he interrupted. He was cleaned up a bit since the morning. It looked like he had his dreads freshly twisted for the occasion.

  “Sorry Brianna. Jamie just dumped him on me for the week. Apparently there is some kind of school break.”

  I actually loved having Little T over since I barely got to see him.

  “Jamie is my mommy. We drove all day to see daddy!” Little T exclaimed. His curly afro made everything he said much cuter than it really was.

  “How far is Lexington?” I asked Tony.

  “Six hours,” he replied.

  “I’m guessing she left?” I said.

  “Yeah. Not without the drama of course. We good though,” Tony exclaimed.

  “Daddy! What are we going to do now that Brianna is here?!” Little T asked. Tony was bewildered. He had no idea how to talk in children terms.

  “What do you mean? She ain’t Michelle Obama. You’re not going to do anything but get ready to take a bath and go to sleep,” Tony said to his son.

  “Can I watch tee vee?” the little heart throb asked as he played with his light brown afro.

  “How old are you?” I asked.

  “Six. And a half!” the boy commanded. I looked at Tony.

  “I thought you said he was five?” I asked.

  “Hey I was locked, I don’t know,” Tony said with a shrug.

  “What’s locked?” Little T asked.

  “That’s what you’re going to be if you don’t quit asking questions. I’m going to lock you in this room forever,” Tony joked back.

  “No! Mommy says that you were locked away before for doing bad things. Were you locked in your room too?” the boy asked.

  “Yes. That’s exactly what happened and you need to be good so it won’t happen to you,” Tony educated his son as he retired to his room. “Little T you can watch TV for fifteen minutes then you need to come take a bath and sleep in my bed.”

  I sat on the bed with Little T and cut on the television. He plopped his little afro right into my belly. On television again was WWW’s weekly wrestling program. It was literally the only program I made time to watch each and every week. The boy leaped up when he saw it.

  “Wrestling!” he exclaimed.

  “What do you know about wrestling?” I asked.

  “I know that you have to go like this (kicks air) and then BOOM! To win!” he replied. The boy’s enthusiasm was contagious.

  “Do you know that’s what I do? I’m a wrestler,” I smiled as I told him. His eyes widened like dinner plates. He was amazed.

  “Daddy!” he screamed. “What?!” Tony said as he walked back in the room.

  “Is Brianna a wrestler?!” Little T asked. Tony glanced at the television. He then glanced at me.

  “Yes. Brianna is a wrestler. She ain’t no good though,” he teased. Little T was fascinated.

  “So you go like this (punches air) then BOOM!” he asked.

  “Yes. Sort of,” I said.

  On the television a familiar song played. It was Laura Grey’s theme music. She came to the ring to a chorus of boos with that big pink championship belt slung across her shoulders. That smug look of unraveled confidence was on her face. She was so good I hated her. I studied her movements. Laura paused for a moment to let the crowd be heard. She grabbed the microphone.

  “Once again I come to this ring to ask the same question. Is there any woman in this company or in the world that can beat me? I’m going to start challenging men soon since I’m running out of little girls to whip,” Laura commanded.

  “Can you beat her?” Little T asked. I pretended to ignore the question. He repeated it.

  “Brianna, can you beat her?” he asked again.

  “Yes T. Yes I can,” I said.

  “I can.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Fifteen minutes of wrestling and another Laura Grey victory later, it was time for Little T to go to sleep. Tony took him in his room as they got ready for the night. Before they shut eye I approached my cousin to ask a favor.

  “Tony, can I drive your car?” I asked.

  “Where are you going?” he said.

  “I’m going to see a friend, in town,” I replied.

  “Sure as long as you aren’t going to Nashville,” he joked. He threw me the keys. I tucked them in my hoodie and bounced.

  If I wasn’t in gym clothes I pretty much wore leggings and a t shirt every day. Today was a bit different. I made more of an effort on this occasion. Under the hoodie I had on a low cut blouse, and skinny jeans. I also made the effort to do my black curly hair and put on some accentuating makeup with eyeliner. With the weight loss I had morphed into a pretty girl I did not recognize.

  I hopped in the old school and cranked the ignition. I put the car in reverse and steered the big steering wheel. The dashboard was a classic analog wood dash. I felt like an old 70’s pimp driving the car. I could see why Tony loved it so much.

  I headed to the apartment complex which Yegor lived. When I arrived, I pulled the car to park and took a big breath. I was not good at just popping up on people but I was bored, lonely, and he was the only person I knew in Memphis outside of family I didn’t want to hang with. I made my way inside and down to his door. I knocked twice.

  He answered the door. “Brianna, come in,” he instructed.

  It was an odd way to address an unexpected visitor but I didn’t think much of it. I came in and sat down on the bed again. He sat on a chair reading from his stack of books. I quickly scanned the collection. They were all books on the Cold War, spying, and Russia. He was obsessed with piecing together his past.

  “How long have you been studying?” I asked.

  “Tonight three hours. All together, twenty years,” he replied. I sat quietly and admired him. He wore a white t shirt two sizes too small for him and sweat pants. His long hair was tucked neatly behind his ears as he dove into his reading.

  “You’re going to make yourself sick. You can’t focus on your past forever,” I said. He looked up. I cut him off before he could speak.

  “I know I have a lot to learn,” I mocked.

  “No. I wasn’t going to say that. I was going to ask how you knew that. How do you know that this is making me sick?”

  I thought about it as he stared me down.

  “You’re looking for the answers to something that cannot be explained. Some things in life you just have to accept they are the way they are,” I spoke. He mulled it over.

  “Again, you have a lot to learn,” he teased.

  “Quit this. Let’s do something. Do you always just sit here and read?” I said.

  “Brianna, this is somet
hing. The truth is all we have,” he replied.

  “I don’t know much about my family history either. You know, because of slavery and all that. It’s like dad, granddad, great granddad, great great granddad, then boat,” I joked.

  “That is not funny,” Yegor said with a stone tone.

  “I can’t do anything about it. Slaves didn’t keep good records,” I said.

  “You aren’t searching deep enough. That’s why you’ll never find the answers. The history is not your story. It’s his story. You must question everything,” the studious Russian quipped back.

  “You’re right,” I said, then went on, “Come sit next to me. Keep me company. I’m bored.”

  He stared at me for a moment then silently got up and joined me shoulder-to-shoulder on the bed, book still in hand. It was A History of Russia, some book on Russian history. It was terribly dog eared and highlighted. Notes were scribbled in the margins.

  “Do you study wrestling this deeply?” I asked.

  “Of course,” he said.

  “Then why couldn’t you get a crowd reaction? You must have known what you were doing wrong,” I said.

  “Because sometimes you have to let the next man shine,” he replied.

  “You just wanted Chad out of the way so you could work as a face?” I said. He said nothing as he turned a page in the book.

  “Yegor that’s not what’s going to happen. They aren’t going to hire you back as a face. William Paddington is dead. You’re not liked in this business. You know that. That’s why you are the way you are. Why not bring the character you play on a daily basis to the ring and really be disliked? Look at Laura Grey. She uses her real life arrogance in the ring,” I said.

  He took it in as he read on.

  “Brianna you have good ideas. But they are just that, ideas. Once you know the truth you’ll finally be free,” he said.

  “What’s the truth?! What is it?!” I asked.

  “The truth is they want Chad. They don’t want me.”

  “I want you.” I said.

  He looked up and said nothing. The silence spoke louder than either one of us could. He held my gaze as he leaned in and pressed his lips upon mine. Everything warmed up as he pressed his chest onto mine.

  I was never one to let myself lose all inhibitions, but I simply could not stop myself. I took his shirt off and devoured his bare chest with my lips. He returned the favor. The bearded one put his beard to good use as it tickled.

  That evening we consummated our, whatever it was. That night titles were of no use. We were simply man and woman, enjoying each other in an evening of raw passion. I relaxed and took in all of what he had to offer, slowly easing in every bit. Every stroke was as if we were trying to paint a beautiful painting titled love. I closed my eyes and let him have his way with my body and enjoyed every moment.

  ***

  Training the day was a bit more awkward than usual. We silently worked out and did cardio, occasionally spotting each other but for the most part lifting light enough so that a spotter wasn’t needed. Yegor and I both averted eye contact. Then it came the dreaded part of the session where we had to get in the ring.

  I haphazardly moved around the ring. I cautiously maneuvered as I tried not to brush up against him too close or too long. Today, I was the cold avoidant one. What we did was affecting my work. I was feeling things that I did not want to process at the moment.

  Mark could sense something was up. “Are you two banging?” he asked bluntly.

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  I cut my eyes at Yegor. This was the one time he needed to avoid a question and he didn’t. Mark look at us then laughed.

  “I don’t know what is up but get over it. Sexual tension is going to happen in this business. But in here it’s all about the ring. Let’s work.”

  We restarted and our match went without hiccup. It was actually the best match we ever had. It could have been the tension or whatever, but I cranked it up to another notch. I was coming off the ropes at full speed hitting dropkicks and clotheslines with ease. I was reversing Yegor’s holds and putting him in my own submission holds. Every maneuver was slick, perfectly timed, and executed properly. I glanced at Mark. His jaw was literally dropped. He called off the match before we could execute the finish.

  “Enough! Enough!” Mark shouted, he couldn’t stop, “This is awesome! What has gotten into you two? I wish I had the nerve to film this. This is the best I’ve seen both of you in weeks!”

  I panted as the sweat beaded down my brow and neck. I was completely spent. The compliments gave me enough energy to stand up straight.

  “Brianna I think it’s time to put you in the showcase,” Mark continued.

  “Really?!” I smiled. I glanced at Yegor. For the first time ever I saw him crack a smile.

  ***

  “We should celebrate,” Yegor said to me as I slung my gym bag over my shoulder. We were freshly out of our gym clothes and ready to call it a day. I awaited Mark to finish up his phone calls and drive us home. I peered at Yegor who oddly seemed excited, though he poorly masked it.

  “In Russia, we celebrate accomplishments,” he boasted again.

  “I thought you grew up in Oakland?” I questioned.

  “In California, we also celebrate accomplishments,” he forced back.

  When Mark arrived Yegor insisted that we go out and that he’d pay it. It felt like he may have done physical harm to us if we said no.

  So there we were; Yegor, Mark, and I at a local steakhouse. Yegor commanded our poor waiter to get the lady whatever she wants. His voice tone was that of a king commanding his servants. I thanked him and politely asked him to take it a notch down. Our poor waiter was a high school kid all of 150 pounds. The little guy looked like he peed his pants when Yegor barked on him.

  Mark quietly went through the menu. Of course his writing pad was with him.

  “Brianna, unfortunately your opponent isn’t going to be Yegor this Saturday,” Mark said as he looked over the drink options, as he continued, “Unfortunately they don’t want to see women wrestle big guys. Sorry Yegor. It’s just not a good visual.”

  “But we can put on a good match. You’ve seen it.” I replied.

  “It’s just not believable. It would hurt the whole vibe. Besides, this is the Bible belt. I’m not trying to portray that image. I have an opponent lined up for Yegor,” Mark said.

  “So who am I going to wrestle?” I asked.

  “I don’t know yet. But you know I’ll prepare you for anything,” Mark said.

  “We are here to celebrate,” Yegor interjected.

  “In Russia, we drink. Waiter! Bring us beer!” he shouted across the entire restaurant and bar. The staff was visibly rattled by the bearded wrestler’s exclamation. About twenty seconds later a beer pitcher and three glasses quickly made their way to our table.

  Yegor helped himself as Mark and I continued to chat about the match and the industry. I was incredibly nervous about my first real match. Mark insisted he’d work his connections and get me an opponent I could have a great match with. For the first time I felt like an insider. I felt like I was finally apart of something. This is what I was supposed to do. At that moment I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.

  ***

  Saturday rolled around. It was that time. I woke up with butterflies turning over my stomach. After years of watching wrestling on television, this would be my first time ever as the one being watched.

  This week’s show was at the same high school as the previous show I attended. Tony and Little T drove me to my show. It was one of the proudest moments of my short career. Little T constantly asked where we were going. I finally told him.

  “We are going to see wrestling,” I said. The boy lit up.

  “Are YOU wrestling?”

  “Yes. Yes I am,” I smiled a big warm smile back. The boy looked at his father who nodded then back to me.

  “WOW! Are you going to g
o BOOM!” he asked.

  “I’m going to try.”

  I hopped out the old school and slung my gym bag over my hoodie. I scurried into the gym to the women’s locker room. It was the first time I’d ever been in a locker room as an athlete. I sat alone on one of the benches as I took my tights and top out of my gym bag. I took it all in. I was finally here.

  KNOCK. KNOCK.

  Someone outside knocked on the locker room’s door. I called them to come in. In walked Yegor in navy blue sweats. He held a shoebox underneath his left arm. He looked around quietly.

  “Are there any other females in here?” he asked. His black beard was way too overgrown but freshly trimmed up.

  “No. I’m the only one so far. I wonder who I’m wrestling. I hope she gets here soon,” I said.

  Yegor sat down next to me. He placed the shoe box in my lap. “Open this,” he instructed.

  I opened up the box. My eyes lit up. My heart fluttered. He didn’t have to do this. He had bought me a pair of boots. The slick white boots had a black letter ‘B’ custom embellished on each side. It was my first pair of real wrestling boots.

  “Thank you so much. You really didn’t have to,” I said. Yegor nodded as he got up. He bent down and gave me a gentle kiss on the forehead.

  “Good luck Brianna,” he whispered before he left.

  I joined Mark, Tony, and his son back in the crowd as the event started. I wanted to catch Yegor’s match before I got ready for my debut. He was wrestling first; there were only four matches on the card.

  Minutes after I got seated the lights dimmed. That cold music filled with horns played. It was Yegor’s time to come to the ring. He was wrestling as the heel once again. As he came to the ring, some teenage fans started to heckle him.

  “WIL-LIAM PAD-ING-TON!” they chanted and teased Yegor. He snapped.

  He grabbed the microphone and rolled into the ring. The feedback squeaked loudly. For a moment it quelled the chants.

  Yegor took the floor.

  “William Paddington is dead!” he yelled, as he continued, “I only did it to infiltrate America and take over the wrestling business. You think I’m a wrestler but little do you Neanderthals know I am a Russian spy!”