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Loudspeakers play the Raucous intro in the arena. It’s a triumphant tune reminiscent of the Rocky theme song. The standing-room-only crowd jumps to their feet, cheers, and stomps the bleachers. It’s a thundering din a wrestler never tires of hearing. And for me, waiting in the wings, it always gives me goosebumps and sparks a toothy smile.
Behind the tunnel curtain, I do last-minute adjustments on my costume. I slide my hand down the satin cape, knowing this will be the last time it will hit the klieg lights. I fear tears welling, but surprisingly, they don’t. My eyes remain clear and dry. I am, finally, emotionally ready for the end of Archimedes and the birth of Disastra.
I’d be lying if there weren’t an emptiness I sense in my gut, but the emptiness soon fills with hope for a bright future. One I can make my own. Isn’t that what every parent wants for their kid? To rise and take the reins. I’m taking the reins, Mom. Watch me now.
The emcee, donning his signature white shirt, black bow tie, and black pants, jumps in the ring and grabs the hanging mic. The din lowers, and the fans take their seats. The show begins.
“Ladies and gentlemen. This is tonight’s premier bout! The one you’ve been waiting for. From the left tunnel, give it up for Briarwood’s evil maiden, Kiomara!”
The crowd boos and stamps the bleacher once again.
I giggle at the sound. And I realize this is the first time since Mom died that I’m actually smiling before a fight. I’m enjoying myself. I truly am.
I peek around the curtain. I see Lottie run out from the opposite tunnel. She fist-pumps the air and gives the middle finger to the crowd. The crowd boos louder. I watch as Lottie whips off her blood red and Kelly green cape, jumps into the ring, and flexes her biceps.
Again, more thunderous boos and curses coming from the crowd.
The ref raises his hands up to quell the crowd. “And in the right tunnel, give it up for the righteous warrior, the savior of justice in the wrestling ring, the one, the only, Archimedes!”
Cheering and applause erupt. The cacophonous sound ripples through the klieg-light smoky air.
Throngs of my fans sequestered in the bleachers rush towards the tunnel entrance and lean over the railing to grab for my cape or to get a selfie. It’s all the arena security guards can do to push back the fans enough for me to needle my way through. Although it’s a bittersweet night, their reaction has me smiling so widely my cheeks hurt. I wave and throw kisses. If tears well now, I’ll let them well. They will be joyous tears.
In my corner, I see my Dad. He’s grinning from ear to ear. And there’s Ronan by his side. The big, bruiser orc is trying his best to control his emotions and look tough, but his eyes scream such excitement and pride for me and what I’m about to do.
For days now, Raucous has promoted this show throughout Briarwood and beyond. Promoters, managers, trainers, and fighters alike have traveled into town to witness Archimedes’ end. The arena is bursting at the seams with every imaginable being. I’ve never seen an audience quite like this. I desperately try to take it all in, to sear into memory every face, every action, every sight and smell.
Oh, Mom, I wish you were here to see this. I know you’d be thrilled. If only you were here, and we could fight together one last time. But Mom, I promise. Tonight, I’ll make you proud.
Ronan helps me off with my cape, and after checking my hand tape, he leans down and whispers in my ear. “If you have to go out, go out in a blaze, beautiful.”
I nod, smile, wipe away tears, and jump into the ring. I’m more than ready to blaze my end.
I look over at Lottie. She glares at me. Her jogging in place signals she’s champing at the bit. Her eyes are wild, like she’s taking the proverbial brass ring by doing in Archimedes. Her hungry look affects me not. I wink at her. Oh, how I’m enjoying this moment!
I look back at Dad and Ronan. Their eyes are on me. They’re sending me energy, I swear, from their gazes alone, and I feel it. I feel their love and support. And for the first time since she passed, I feel Mom’s love and support, too. It bolsters me.
I’m doing the right thing. I’m letting go. A fighter can’t evolve if she doesn’t let go of the past wars inside her head. I know that now.
The bell rings. The fight begins. I hit all my ring cues and perform as expected, as Raucous wants. And now as I want.
Bell one, two, then three. And on the fourth, halfway through, Lottie does her rope fly and four-limb smash and grab. I’m supposedly pinned. I feign a struggle. Lottie fake slams my head against the mat, and I play dead. I suppress my heavy breathing under her body weight, and I don’t move a muscle. Lottie jumps up after the ref’s ten call and throws up her arms, triumphant.
The ref kneels, looks at me, and feigns dire concern. He waves in fake medics. They come to my aid, and both overact by vigorously shaking their heads and flashing sorrowful looks.
One medic pulls a blanket over me and the house lights dim. Only one blue filter klieg is lit over me. A hush descends on the crowd.
A judge at the dais taps a mic and begins to speak somberly. “Everyone, Archimedes is dead. Amazon Woman killed her with that final fly. A moment of silence, please, for wrestling’s lost and much beloved sister of justice.”
Silence, except for a few escaping gasps and sobs from the shocked and morose crowd.
Underneath the blanket, I’m smiling, trying my best not to breathe deeply or let out a riotous laugh.
I feel… I feel great! I’m not wanting to cry or beg my Mom’s forgiveness, or anything. I feel free, free as a bird. And I am free!
Mom is gone, and I finally can accept that. I’ll always miss her, but I’m ready to stop fighting it. I’m ready to let Archimedes go with her and move onto the next stage of my life. Even if Mom won’t be there with me for it.
Somehow it just fits. Tomorrow, I can be reborn as Disastra, as a new woman, as me.
