Alicia Goon 036: Obligations

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Descriptions of injuries

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According to the dashboard clock, Robert broke the silence approximately four minutes after peeling out of the Plunj Drain Cleaner Arena parking lot. 

"I have a lot of questions."

Despite the heated seats and climate controlled cabin, Alicia couldn't stop shaking. With evident exhaustion in her face, eyes, body, and voice, the ichor-soaked passenger turned and responded, "Not tonight. There's too much." She wondered what state her spider pudding buffet of a sweatshirt was in right now. Whatever the condition, Black Violet could keep it. Alicia would see it enough in her nightmares.

Too much had happened all at once. Twelve hours ago, she was at the Party Girl compound watching one of Party Girl's Li'l Dreamerz--with a zed--take a sledgehammer to an insufficiently cherry red convertible. Since then, she had been thrown through office equipment, had a tooth kicked down her throat, been bitten twice by her stalker, gotten lost in a pitch-black maintenance crawlspace, located two different booby-traps near her home, and borrowed a cat.

Robert nodded. "Just a few questions, then." 

Alicia bristled at the pushback. Robert had no idea what she endured. She didn’t owe anyone a debrief. Her first instinct compelled her to shoot her housemate a look of anger. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw fidgeting hands on the wheel. Robert had no idea what she endured, and Alicia didn't owe anyone a debrief. She turned to get a better look. Wide eyes, shallow breaths. This affected him, too. 

"Just the most important ones. Please. I'm so done," Alicia groaned.

A guilty look crossed her best friend's face. "I'll keep it to two. We'll get to the rest someday. Most important: Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"More important," Alicia corrected. "You would use the comparative since you're only asking two questions."

"The superlative form is actually right in this case, since I was comparing that question's importance to the aforementioned 'lot' of questions," counter-corrected Robert.

Alicia smiled and nodded. It was an unforced error, but she was still ahead overall on points. She looked herself over. With a sigh, she had to admit she was out of her depth on this one. "Yeah, I think so."

Robert seemed genuinely shocked at the answer and took a moment to recalibrate and another to make the upcoming exit before asking, "Do you think it's safe to go back to the house?" 

Alicia shook her head sadly. "I wouldn't if you have a choice."

"Okay, so-" Robert froze as he chewed over that answer again. "Hold on. You shouldn't stay there, either!"

Alicia stepped on his last word as she sat up in her seat. "I need to test something. The woman stalking me is a wrestler named Black Violet. She chose me because-" Alicia caught herself. "She just decided she didn't like me. And since she picked me, she's not going to stop until I fight her. I really don't want to. I really, really don't want to. She injured Giselle so bad she was out for three months following their match, and Giselle's way better than me. And then there was tonight. You didn't see how angry she was. Black Violet would…" she paused for emphasis. The sudden silence drew Robert's attention, and their eyes briefly met. "She would hurt me."

"Okay? So I'll rent a couple hotel rooms, you can board the cat, and we'll figure out what to do next. My parents will understand," Robert insisted. "At least they'll understand whatever normal-sounding story I tell them."

With a deep sigh, Alicia laid out her theory, "I just went into her place and attacked her in her home. Maybe it doesn't have to be a match. Maybe she'll stop haunting me because I technically just 'fought' her. It might work."

Robert looked unimpressed. "That sounds like what someone would say right before the monster got them."

"I know it's a long shot. I know it's a stupid idea, but it's the only idea I have, and I need it to work. It's not just my life or where I live; even if I move away, she lives in the arena," Alicia explained.

Robert glanced back at his shaken passenger, bewildered. Alicia really wished he'd watch the road more. "Hang on. She lives in-"

"Robert, I can't catch you up on everything. I need you to accept that sometimes I'm going to say something insane without an explanation, and you're just going to have to keep up," said Alicia, overruling Robert's follow-up question. "So, what, I let her take away my home and what I love to do most? Some life. If it doesn't work, I'll figure something out." 

The city lights of Beaver, such as they were, shared their glow as the luxury car drove past. She stared out the window at the passing billboards: buck draft night at Pennyfarthing's, the Crushingburg concert with opening act The Dynawill Kid, some upscale clothing store called Human Ingredients. Four years ago, Alicia begged not to move to Illinois. Despite having every reason to move out of her forest-adjacent home in the good part of the bad part of Stokely, she refused to be driven out.

Silence once again settled upon the car. She flipped open her phone and powered it on. Maybe the battery had a few minutes left. Why does it spend so long on the logo screen? Can't wait until that improves. 4:02 AM. 2 text messages. Bee-doop.

Sun Feb 1, 2004

12:11 AM PARTY GIRL (370)167-5770
howz it goin

1:47 AM PARTY GIRL (370)167-5770
did u get her yt

Alicia couldn't summon the strength to roll her eyes, but the sentiment was there. Reply.

4:03 AM MY NEW LORUMPHONE (297)117-5084
Nothing went right, but I set her on fire, No battery, will text you later,

She felt a small pang of guilt for not mentioning anything to Party Girl about her "presh-presh" and flipped the phone open again. The screen immediately blinked out and refused to turn back on. No energy left. Same. 

"Can you drive me somewhere on Sunday?" asked Alicia. Robert gave a quick nod. "I've got some money burning a hole in my pocket."

* * * * *

A sunflower-yellow 2003 Zebop Roadzter rolled to a refreshingly quiet stop between the lines of an employee parking spot, and out stepped the proud new owner. Alicia hated the name, although it fit the zippy little two-door like a glove box. It seemed unfair that something else was going to take her new used car’s spot as today’s top story at the office. Through the unobstructed window, Alicia saw Maxine hard at work making the job look easy. 

Don't get jealous, be like Party Girl

Get like me, get like Party Girl

Another text message. Alicia swore she put it on mute. She swore she did several times last night before she finally gave up and turned it off. The altitude must have been getting to Party Girl on the slopes because her texts had gotten long and quite erratic.

Mon Feb 2, 2004 

8:11 AM PARTY GIRL (370)167-5770
ur bein stuipd shes not gonna stop until u face her 

Alicia replied:

8:25 AM Alicia's Phone (297)117-5084
There's no harm in just waiting to see what happens. You're not even here. You wanted me to handle it. Let me do this.

Power off. She liked it better as a makeshift flashlight than intrusive digital telepathy. She pushed open the residential-looking door of Pupe's Full-Mouth Dentistry and stepped in out of the cold. Maxine glanced up from her monitor. Recognition, a smile, and horror.

"Yeah, I couldn't really cover it with makeup."

Maxine's hand rose to her mouth as she shook her head. At least Alicia could hide the 8 stitches in her forehead with a nonstick bandage under a scarf and the 22 in her back under her sweater. The black eye, swollen nose, split lip, and the bandages on either side of her neck were a bit more conspicuous. The missing tooth wouldn't remain a secret for long, either. 

"You should see the other guys," said Alicia, chuckling, until she remembered Maxine did see the other guys, and they actually walked away looking mostly fine. "You don't need to get up. I'm coming in."

Maxine had already rushed through the office door and into the reception area, worried eyes darting across Alicia's collection of bandages and wounds. "Good night! Honey, your- you're-"

"I'm fine," Alicia insisted. 

Maxine gave her an unamused look. "I'm always there to support you, hon, but it's so hard seeing you after." She took Alicia by the hand and guided her to her seat behind the reception desk. The older woman squinted as she surveyed the scraped, cut, swollen, and bruised landscape of Alicia's face and neck. "Let me get you some ice. Do you need anything?"

"Miss Maxine!" said Alicia, raising her voice as she stood up from her office chair. They looked at each other in silence. A faint smile crossed Alicia's lips. "Thank you. For everything. You've been an angel to me," she said, embracing the smaller woman in her arms.

"Oh my God!" honked Dr. Pupe from the doorway to the break room, aghast at the sight of her injuries. "Wha- no. Not again. Alicia, we need to talk."

The wrestler nodded in agreement. "We do. This is my two weeks. I-" Maxine's jaw dropped slightly as Alicia continued, "I don't think I work here anymore."

"Oh," the doctor replied, allowing an uncomfortable pause to form while he found some words. "Well, um, we'll miss you, of course. Maxine, can you start on her paperwork today?" The office manager nodded. 

Alicia couldn't read his expression. "If it's any consolation, you will hire someone better. I know I often didn't do the job well, but that's only because I'm just not very good at it," she said, showing off the new gap in her smile. Dr. Pupe's double-take and the look of thinly veiled horror made Alicia want to send Tracey Roote a thank-you card.

"I actually came out to ask if you've seen my fern," said the dentist, trying to move the conversation along to more pressing matters. "I bought it last year for my mother's funeral."

Alicia froze in place, trying to act calm, natural, and unsuspicious, while also not blinking. "Oh. Is it gone?" she asked, casually darting her eyes toward the window without moving a muscle. "Wow, it is, yes. Hm." Moving your head up and down is the same as nodding, right?

The raven-haired, pigeon-mustached dentist shook his head, dejected. "I couldn't just throw it out when she made a full recovery. It cost eighteen dollars."

"Why didn't you hang it up in your house?" asked Alicia, struggling not to look relieved.

Dr. Pupe answered matter-of-factly, "It blocks the light."

Breathe in, breathe out. She'd give him the grace of two more weeks as thanks for confirming she made the right decision. Alicia answered with a shrug, "Sorry. Haven't seen it."

* * * * *

The Hard Times alumni pulled up to a thankfully Perletta-free parking lot. Dreadful cars. Oops. There was one. Sorry, I'm sure yours is very nice. Something else was missing: the sign. That awful, rusted metal sign above the Hard Times front entrance. The rusty, white-on-maroon eyesore had been replaced with bold, angular red lettering on black. Dark black. It looked modern. Helene and Allen must have finally gotten their way. Up the six steps and through the door. Minisha waved from behind the front desk. 

Alicia replied with a polite little wave and a gap-toothed smile, "Minisha! Hey!"

The trainer's dark brown eyes lit up as bright as her smile, which both faded a little when she noticed the missing tooth. "Hey A- oh. You've changed."

"Yup. Finally, I'm a real hockey player. Up until now, I had just been playing hockey." Alicia indulged her curiosity. "They've got you running the desk now?" 

Minisha’s broad smile returned. This was bigger. "New head trainer," said the new head trainer. "Sab's watching me to start, but she's cool about it. Just between us, it was nice to be recognized for putting in the work. I've been trying to move up for years."

"Oh my goodness! Congratulations! Nish, that’s amazing! You’re going to make an awesome head trainer," said Alicia. She gestured toward the back office door. "I'm here to see Sab, but let's grab a drink sometime to celebrate!" 

"I know a great water fountain," Minisha replied with a smirk. 

It occurred to Alicia she hadn't had much to celebrate since graduation, back when "celebration" was synonymous with "bar." She needed a new hang-out phrase. Maybe she could learn to like coffee. 

"Or dinner," she said sheepishly. "I just wanna hang out."

"Me too!" replied Minisha. "Let's talk after."

Into the back, first door on the right. Alicia tapped the door with the mostly-healed knuckle of her right index finger. 

A familiar voice gave the usual reply, "It's open.” Alicia turned the handle and let herself in. "Hey! I was hoping you'd make it in today," said Sabrina, perking up at her visitor. "Sit down. How ya been?"

That was my line. "Um- me? Good," replied Alicia. She didn't mind going first. "I have a question: Helene said something about needing a belt around my waist before asking for matches. What did she mean by that?"

Sabrina's scarred lips turned up in a lopsided smile. "Straight to business, huh? The rule is that champions have to defend their belts at least once every 30 days, 45 in the event of an injury, but the champion always has the right to issue challenges more frequently if she wants, with whatever match type or stipulation she wants."

"All the belts have to be defended once every 30 days?" asked Alicia. Sabrina nodded. Alicia asked again, "All of them?" Sabrina nodded again with a hint of confusion on her face. "What about the TV Championship? It's been nearly a year since Black Violet put the title up."

Sabrina's look of confusion morphed into disbelief. "You have one match on your official record," she scoffed. "Stop thinking about titles. You're just getting started. Concentrate on here and now. You don't have to have your whole career all at once. And trust me, you don't want anything to do with Black Violet. Have you seen what she's capable of?" 

"Yeah," Alicia answered with a sad little nod. Now for her real question. "But if a champion were to challenge me, I could say no, right?"

Disbelief turned to exasperation. "Alicia, why are- no, you wouldn't have to accept the title shot."

Alicia breathed a sigh of relief. Half a sigh. She didn't like the "well, technically…" look forming on Sabrina's face.

"Well, technically, since it's your first year, and you're on an open contract, you would have to. But that's the only exception I can think of." Sabrina clearly didn't know what to make of the silence and filled it with snark, "Aren't you already getting a title shot thanks to your new friend?" Alicia didn’t look pleased with her choice of wording. "Sorry. It's just... you chose her?" Sabrina asked with a sigh.

"It's more like she chose me," said Alicia with a timid smile.

"...And you said yes?"

Alicia didn't like the line of questioning or the tone it was being asked in, either. "Hold on, hold on. I came here to check on you! Are you alright?"

Sabrina looked herself over and held the back of her hand to her forehead to check her temperature. "Yeah." Alicia didn't look convinced. "No, it's not how I wanted to retire."

"It's just a broken arm," Alicia replied, almost pleading. "You can still come back." 

"You know how Helene's career ended?" Sabrina asked. Alicia shook her head. "Hip fracture in the first Queen's Decree match back in '97. Really bad fall. That was after ten years of neck and back injuries, issues, and surgeries. She was 42. Not that that's old--I'm turning 48 next month--but she'd been in and around the sport 22 years. When this happened," Sabrina showed off her cast. "I was six months shy of 30 years in the business."

"I don't want to be the one responsible for ending-" Alicia couldn't bring herself to finish that sentence. 

Sabrina performed a reversal, "Hey, I better not hear you bragging about retiring me!" Alicia cracked a smile in spite of herself. "I'm lifting the same weight, but it keeps getting heavier. The aches last longer. The mornings after hurt worse. I had a plan for my final match--who it would be with, how it would go--but I am no longer the person who can have that match. I have a whole career to look back on. I want to retire because I chose to, not because I had to."

"You'll be alright answering to Helene and Allen?" Alicia asked.

Sabrina flashed a mischievous smile. "You're talking to the President of Talent and Operations. Worry about them keeping up with me now that I've got some actual stroke around here. I already got them to replace that friggin' sign." Huh.

"Hey, Sab… I really appreciate you saving me when I got attacked after my match with Jill." A tentative quiet hung between them as Alicia tried to work out the phrasing of her next request. She wanted to put the next part as delicately as possible. "From now on, please don't put yourself in danger to help me."

With a shrug and a slight shake of her head, Sabrina put her former student at ease, "I wasn't planning on it."

Alicia was taken aback by the frankness of the declaration. "... Oh."

"I told you," said the new President of Talent and Operations. "I'm not a wrestler anymore."