“The Soulless” X

 

Little do they know in high school I was on the wrestling team. My father suggested I do a sport- well, actually, he told me to do a sport- and I had three options: football, baseball or wrestling. So, my freshmen year, I chose wrestling- and despite my lack of effort- I was pretty damn good.

So good, in fact, I continued to wrestle in college. Unfortunately a knee injury my sophomore year prevented me from taking it back up. It’s been years, but I could probably knock Ole Jeb on his ass despite his apparent mastery of the sport. 

“Alright.” I say, standing up and clapping my hands together. Anya rockets out of her chair and laughs giddily. “But,” I say. “Let’s do it outside.” 

There’s some silence. Yeah, yeah, the outside is “dangerous” but we haven’t seen one of those things in three days. The rain has stopped and the big, wet, lawn looks perfectly inviting. I open up the screen door, Jeb and I step out. 

The cool air hits me. I swear, its the best smelling thing ever. So fresh and lively, like Spring. Small clumps of snow linger at the base of trees. Anya opens up one of the windows so she can cheer us on. She’s all bright and spirited, leaning her elbows on the windowsill. Her left arm is pretty bad from when she hit it on the bumper, all gross and purple green, nearly black against her skin. 

“What’s going on!?” Frank yells as he enters the porch, leans out the window beside Anya. 

“They’re wrestling. Tom- Tom took the challenge!” She sputters from the cold and tightens her grip on the blanket. I hope that with my defeat of Jeb, we’ll no longer have him pestering us to wrestle. I look at Jeb dead in his watery, red and blue eyes and the baggy, vein blue sacks beneath them. His lips, sagging, dashed with grey and black whiskers. His yellow teeth, crooked and brown, peeking through. I dare him with my cocky smile, my curling eyebrow. I dare you, I think, I dare you to bring me down. You’ll regret it. 

It was like I was back on the blue mat, the cheers and things from the crowd. My coach, my team, I could feel  their breath, sighs of relief, their fear. The tension. 

That night, with the blinking of cameras, the team, the crowd. I did the same look to that kid. I remember his name, Jerry Rice. What a fucking stupid name. Jerry Rice. He had this ugly look on his face, like there was nothing to him except muscle. I could of had him. I could have taken him, smashed his face into that mat, slipped through his anaconda arms. I was fast, quick. Oh man. That bastard! That stupid bastard Jerry Rice. When my knee got twisted up. Hurt like a bitch and I was just pissed because I let this stupid muscle-head beat me. 

We start. It’s just like old times, for a second, my muscles are confused and I fight with him a little. Clumsy. But then, like an old computer, the memory starts to return slowly. Lock here, twist there. Same thing, it came to me naturally. It’s pretty fun, too. We’re covered in mud, slipping. Anya laughing, Frank reluctantly clapping. 

“Go!” She calls. Jeb begins to run away.

“Get back ‘ere!” I yell. It’s like I’m 14 again, wrestling with Billy. Anya runs out in the yard to help us. She picks up handfuls of snow and tosses them at us. Jeb knocks me over. I pretend he’s hurt my side.

“Oh!” I yelp and curl over. He instantly jumps back, worried, concerned. I spin around and take him at his knees. 

“You little…!” He hollers in between heavy breaths and laughter. Anya falls into the grass, she’s been laughing too much. Shivers, cold. Jeb and I are at it now, one after another. I’m surprised he’s able to fight me, he’s so old and worn down. 

Blast. 

A gun fire rings out. We see a snarling zombie, from across the road, fall. 

“Get in the house. Fun’s over.” Frank says stiffly. Anya skips in. I help Jeb up and we walk together back into the house. 

“I say it’s a tie, Jeb.” I whisper. 

“Tie.” Jeb smiles at me and winks. He’s like a good old Grandpa with a whole extra bit of life in him and I’m still fourteen.