March 17, 2009

As he opens the door, the Caribbean sunlight hits him full in the face, blinding him momentarily. He raises a hand, smiles, and then lowers it to shake hands with the young man at the door. The visitor smiles back as he is welcomed into the sunny home with an ocean view. The home’s owner turns and beckons his visitor back to the sunroom. Technically it would be called a lanai, complete with wicker furniture with brightly colored cushions and a small patio table with a glass pitcher of lemonade. It’s all very Martha Stewart for a man who used to be involved in professional wrestling.

“Thanks for having me here, Chad.”

“Not a problem, Bryan. Although I’m surprised you wanted to fly all the way out here from the West Coast. Doesn’t seem like the weather is all that different.”

“You know better than that. I wanted to finish up our interview series.”

“I thought you were done with me. I told you there are others that have the rest of the story. I wasn’t there for a lot of it.”

“But you were there for…”

“The finish. Sure. And you wanted to get the dirty details in person? Hearing my reaction wasn’t good enough?”

“Not exactly. It’s just… different. And no one ever saw the real story, not truly. That’s the part I want to be able to tell.”

“Speaking of telling stories… did you come up with a name for the book yet?”

“The publisher is pushing for “The Death of the CSWA.”

“Tell ‘em that’s already been done.”

“I did.”

“Of course you did.”

“I’m leaning towards ‘Slouching Towards Greensboro.’”

“That’s really, really bad.”

“You think so?”

“Really bad. So it’s not that I’m rushing you here, but Johanna said she’d have my head if we’re not ready for dinner by 6. She doesn’t like to hear the old war stories, so she’s out shopping.”

“Of course. And thanks again for all this. I know it must be difficult, but the story… it’s just so…”

“Don’t say it. There’s enough ‘fanboy’ left in me to know what you mean. But remember… it’s just wrestling. It’s not the end of the world. So ask away, Bryan.”

“Oh, and by the way, happy anniversary.”

Merritt laughs. “Thanks, Bryan. I’m amazed at how the date has persisted, even though Steve and I can’t pin it down to the day. But anyway, thanks.”

“The last time we spoke we talked about ANNIVERSARY 2006. Thomas had come up with the “GOLD RUSH” idea…”

“Yup. And a good one at that, I have to give him credit for.”

“He tried to enlist your help against the Hacker, but you declined. Why even show up?”

Merritt smiles. “Honestly? Part ego, part curiosity. Some little part of me wanted to see Steve admit he couldn’t handle it alone. And part of me wanted to see what he was doing… if he really could pull the company out of the steep dive he and the Hacker put it in.”

“And the reason you didn’t give him your help? You told Ivy that night that you were just there to see him sweat.”

“ True. But not completely. I didn’t have enough information to help at that point. So I did the little bit I could. I tried to keep Ivy engaged.”

“You went to see her specifically?”

“Of course I did. I wanted to see her, especially after I heard she was pregnant. I needed to know more, needed to know if there was still fight left in more than just Steve. What I told her was true… “You can’t save the CSWA unless it wants to save itself.”

“Does that mean ‘it’ didn’t want to? Why?”

“Bryan, the CSWA tore itself apart. Not in an overt fans rioting and talent literally killing each other way. In a real way. The ‘parents’ went through an ugly divorce. The siblings fought. Complacency and apathy took root one day and spread like a cancer. I fought it… sometimes. Thomas fought it some. Ivy sure as hell fought it, along with so many others. We put it into remission over and over again. But that fight blinded us to a sickness at the core, a blighted organ that we took for granted. And that blight spread, undiagnosed, until it was too late.”

“Him.”

“Yeah, him.”

“So after ANNIVERSARY, you came back here. You said you went there because you didn’t have enough information.”

“I had enough to know that something wasn’t quite right. The hijacking of the Parsons Cruise Liner. The repeated attempts to interrupt shows. The appearance of a member of the Board of Directors here on this island around the same time the ship was stolen. I went to Greensboro to try and trace his steps.”

“Steve Day? The member of the CSWA Board of Directors.”

“That’s right.”

“And what did you find?”

“Nothing. Not a thing, which was odd enough. It wasn’t until after SHOWTIME in Columbia, after the CSWA lost its TV slot that I was able to find out more.”

“How was that?”

“Because I found him. Or maybe I should say, he found me.”

Merritt clears his throat, taking a moment to pour from the glass pitcher that Johanna had set out for them before she left. It also gives him a moment to tamp down the emotion building as he thinks about the plan that caught them all by surprise… the series of events that killed the CSWA.