Post by Marcus Welsh on Feb 26, 2023 22:29:22 GMT -5
~In the backyard of an old home in Wheaton, Illinois, Matt Meyhu sits alone at the end of an old tube slide attached to the side of a play structure. The home belongs to Matt’s grandmother, Martha Meyhu. He takes a breath of fresh air, happy to have escaped the confines of the tube slide, and scans the landscape from his seat. Matt soaks in moments from his childhood as his eyes travel across the yard. Basketball games with his brother, using the gap between two monkey bars as the hoop because there was no court nearby. Long jump competitions with his siblings off the three swings situated at the center of the structure. Sandbox tea parties with his sister… Err… Beer parties!
Matt’s wife, Tiffany, pokes her head out of the back door and spots Matt, who is now eyeing the small playhouse that pulled double duty as both clubhouse and drive thru restaurant in the 90’s.~
Tiffany: Matt!
Matt Meyhu: Hang on.
Tiffany: We’re almost-
Matt Meyhu: I just need a minute! I’m reflecting!
~Man, that was a great clubhouse. Chez Matt. The best-~
Tiffany: Okay, well have you at least seen-
Matt Meyhu: REFLECTING!
~Tiffany stares at the slide for a moment, inspecting it. She smiles and waves toward it.~
Tiffany: Reflect away. We’ll be in here when you’re ready.
~Matt, still locked on his old hideout, sends a half-hearted wave towards his wife, who is no longer standing there. She has returned inside with Matt’s brother, Mike, and sister, Megan. Matt thinks about walking over to the clubhouse and crawling inside. In fact, he almost feels a force shoving him off the slide toward it. But he pushes back against it. He’s just not ready. The monkey bars were easy. His feet touch the ground now. Challenge the guy, why don’t ya?! Wiggling his way down this slide took some work, but nothing ‘The Marvel’ himself couldn’t handle! However, forcing his way into that little shack? There might be no way out but to tear the thing down. No way, not going to happen. That thing is way too valuable. Too many memories. Matt releases a heavy sigh.~
Matt Meyhu: Those were the days… A biscuit and tea, and make it snappy!
~Grandma Martha’s go-to order from the Meyhu sibling’s backyard cafe.
Matt and his siblings have just spent their first night here together since they were teenagers… Under less than ideal circumstances. Two nights ago, the three of them stayed overnight in the hospital together, curled up in chairs at Martha’s side. Her fourth trip to the hospital in the last year. Today, the Meyhu kids are focused on digging through the home they spent a significant chunk of their childhood in, reminiscing, and making funeral arrangements. Most of them, anyway. Some of them are working through… Other things.~
“I’m so proud of the man you have become... You’ve been through lots of ups and downs… But you’re better for it… You’re the leader this family needs…”
~Her words echo through Matt’s mind. He rests his head in his hands for a moment, slumped over as his body barely clings onto the edge of the slide made for young children. He lifts his head with a sense of dignity.~
Matt Meyhu: …I’ve got a lot to be proud of. Ups and downs, sure. Who hasn’t dealt with some of that? That’s just human. I’ve been through one of the most successful wrestling careers of all-time! I’m the OCW Hall of Fame Champion for cryin’ out loud! Went out on a high note. I’m a legend. Other wrestlers still talk about me. They dream about being me. I’m a leader in an entire industry!
~Matt clenches his jaw as he is overcome with an unfamiliar feeling. A pitter-patter along his back, and a rumbling in his chest. Is this what a heart attack feels like? Can’t be. Matt Meyhu is the lime standard of health. A panic attack? Maybe… But standing across from some of the foes ‘The Marvel’ has should induce more panic than some wimpy feelings! Indigestion? Not likely. He hasn’t eaten in days at this point. Whatever it is, it fades away. Conquered by Matt Meyhu, not unlike some of professional wrestling’s best and brightest.~
“Your ambition knows no bounds… You’ve taken care of yourself, your siblings, and me… You’re a role model… You’ve got such a bright future…”
Matt Meyhu: I’ve been the breadwinner for this family for years now… So many that I’ve lost count. Shit, I’ve carried a whole promotion on my back! Call it ambition, call it sheer will, call it whatever. I’m beyond role model status at this point… If I want to restart that career, my future run sure will be bright.
~Matt retrieves his phone from his pocket. Must not be anything new, as he slides it back in immediately, right as he feels a metaphorical kick in his ass. Exactly what he needs to get back on his feet and join the effort inside. Still, he fights back. He holds steady, not letting himself be forced into a situation he’s not ready for. ‘The Marvel’ glances through the back window of the house and sees Tiffany, seated around the dining room table with the other Meyhus. His wife spots him and motions for him to head inside. His siblings catch wind of this and try to lure him in as well. He shakes his head. Not interested.~
Matt Meyhu: Maybe later.
~They can’t hear him from that distance, which is fine. He doesn’t want to be heard. As the trio at the table goes back to their conversation and coffee, Matt continues to stare. He observes his siblings. Sad, sure, but pushing through it. Doing their best. What more can they do? They’re normal. The cashier and waiter at Chez Matt. Matt was the chef. Silver and bronze in the Swingset Olympics. You already know who the winner was. Second and third fiddle. But the best wingman and wingwoman a guy could ask for.
It can’t be easy on them, being overshadowed by the baby of the family. Matt never needed Mike’s basketball tips. He didn’t want those cups of tea from Megan. But he accepted them. It was his pleasure. Those two needed propping up. They needed it as kids, and they still need it now, as adults. And Grandma Martha knew it. She helped raise them. Always there to look after them while their parents traveled for months at a time. She had to know it.~
Matt Meyhu: She knew it. She knew what they needed to hear…
~The pressure builds. The energy willing Matt off the end of the slide reaches its peak, pushing with all its might. Matt resists, leaning back. It fades. Matt exhales and closes his eyes. Holding back a whole lot more than just the urge to stand up and confront the mementos and antiques filling the shelves inside that house. He continues to take deep breaths as he replays the events of the morning before in his head…~
***
Matt wakes from his slumber and wipes the drool from his cheek. His brother and sister are already awake, and stand at either side of Martha’s bed, each holding a hand. They shoot him a look indicating they have been waiting for him for quite some time. Matt yawns, stretches, and sets the hoodie playing the role of blanket on the empty chair next to him before propelling himself up to his feet. Finally. He walks to the foot of the bed, completing the semi-circle around their grandma.
Martha Meyhu: Glad you could join us.
Her voice is weaker than usual, but her sarcasm is still intact.
Matt Meyhu: For sure, no problem. You guys been up long?
Martha Meyhu: Long enough. I just needed to talk to you three. Together.
Matt Meyhu: Sure, what’s up?
The next few minutes were hard to digest. Matt wasn’t prepared. Mike and Megan weren’t either. They had become old pros at this. A few days in the hospital, a new prescription to fill, and back to the house for tea… Or beer. But not this time. A year of fighting had taken its toll, and the doctors were no longer optimistic. Martha was prepared to make her last stand, and there was no talking her out of it. This would be her last trip to this hospital.
Martha Meyhu: ...I’ve lived a good 94 years, kids. I want to thank you for that. I’ve got so much joy watching you three grow up. If this is my legacy right here in this room… I can’t be any more satisfied…
Not a dry eye between the three siblings or a word to say. The moment of silence lasted what felt like hours as the three struggled to come to terms with the news tossed in their laps. A few attempts are made at speaking but no noise comes out. Martha breaks the silence with her soft, struggling voice.
Martha Meyhu: You three go grab breakfast, gather your thoughts. I know this can’t be easy.
The siblings silently nod, nothing more than three sad bobbleheads being shaken by a life-altering earthquake. Martha pulls Mike in closer to her momentarily.
Martha Meyhu: Mike… I’m so proud of the man you have become... You’ve been through lots of ups and downs… But you’re better for it… You’re the leader this family needs right now… Stay strong for me, and your brother and sister.
Mike leans in and gives his grandmother a hug, hiding his face from his siblings. When he finally withdraws, he gives the Meyhu matriarch a nod in agreement. He slowly heads for the door. Megan’s turn. Martha pulls her in close.
Martha Meyhu: Megan… Your ambition knows no bounds, there is nothing you can’t do. You’ve taken care of yourself, your siblings, and me. All while kick starting your new career. You’re a role model, especially to your niece… You’ve got such a bright future… Please, keep an eye on them, but you deserve to focus on yourself…
Megan agrees as she sobs into her grandmother’s shoulder. Matt watches on, anxious. His hands shake a little as Megan peels away from Martha and drags her feet over to Mike, embracing him. Matt makes eye contact with Martha, who motions him over. He swallows hard and begins the walk toward her, slowly. Loss like this is a foreign feeling to Matt, one that he isn’t so sure can be remedied with a few proud, parting words. He reaches Martha and holds her hand. He takes a deep breath. She pulls him in closer to speak to him.
Martha Meyhu: Matt… You are so talented. A natural at everything you do…
Matt Meyhu: Mmhmm.
Martha Meyhu: I want you to start applying that ability to being an adult now. You’ve achieved everything you’ve set out to do. It’s required being selfish. It’s required stepping on people. That was okay then. It’s what you had to do. But you’ve got a family of your own now. It’s time to grow up. That little girl of yours idolizes you. I want to know that she is being shown the right things. I want her to grow up with the right examples. Hard work. Integrity. Do you understand?
Matt Meyhu: …Yes ma’am…
Martha Meyhu: You’re a sweet kid, Matt. I know it, these two know it. Marigold and Tiffany know it. Show the rest of the world…
Matt gives Martha a big hug. He lets go and grandma directs them toward the hallway to find breakfast, as if any of them had an appetite at this point. Matt joins his brother and sister, in a daze.
Martha Meyhu: I’ll see you soon, go eat.
***
~She didn’t see them soon. They were all pushing scrambled eggs around their plates, pretending to eat when they got the call. Ever since, Matt has been overanalyzing those words. Was Martha performing for the others? Was Matt really that disconnected? I guess we’ll never know…~
Matt Meyhu: I just… Don’t get it…
~Just then, a muffled, echoing voice chimes in.~
Marigold: Daddy?
~Matt looks around, confused. His daughter is nowhere to be found.~
Marigold: I’m bored. Can you please move?
~The gears start turning rapidly for Matt, his eyes open wide. He shoots to his feet and Marigold comes tumbling out of the tube and onto the bark dust below. Matt, lime green shirt covered in dusty footprints, scoops his daughter up and places her back on her feet.~
Matt Meyhu: I’m sorry sweetie, I didn’t hear you come out!
Marigold: You’re silly, daddy! I came out with you. We went down the slide at the same time.
Matt Meyhu: Huh… If you say so.
Marigold: Were you talking to yourself?
Matt Meyhu: Uh… I guess I was, yeah.
Marigold: Is grandma Martha coming home soon?
Matt Meyhu: I’m afraid not.
Marigold: Oh…
Matt Meyhu: Yeah…
Marigold: After we go home will she come back?
~Matt lets out a heavy sigh and rubs his brow. There are, at a minimum, three other people at this residence better equipped to have this conversation, and he knows it. He clears his throat.~
Matt Meyhu: Grandma Martha won’t be around anymore, sweetie.
Marigold: Did she die?
~Just then, a small piece of dust, or pollen, or perhaps even a small insect, flies directly into Matt’s eye. That’s the only reasonable explanation as to why he looks away and covers his eyes with one hand. After a few seconds of allowing tears to cleanse the area, he continues.~
Matt Meyhu: Yeah… She did.
Marigold: So I can’t see her anymore?
~Matt shakes his head. Moments later, he has a teary-eyed five-year-old clinging to his leg. No pollutant here, this kid is crying. Matt gives her a moment before crouching down next to her and giving her a hug. He pulls his phone out of his pocket.~
Matt Meyhu: It’s going to be okay. You know what, if you ever want to see her, you let me know. We’ve got lots of pictures. Remember this one? When she took you trick or treating?
Marigold: I was a tiger.
Matt Meyhu: You sure were…
~Marigold wipes her face on her father’s shirt and inspects the picture. She smiles. She reaches out and swipes her finger on the screen back and forth, switching between the same two pictures over and over. Matt looks on, envious of the child’s ability to bounce from emotion to emotion seamlessly.~
Matt Meyhu: Come on, let's head in. I’m sure there’s snacks in there or something.
Marigold: I want to play. You were blocking me before!
~Matt’s eyes shift back to the kitchen window. Tiffany is again trying to wave them inside. Matt holds up a finger.~
Matt Meyhu: Yeah that’s fine, five minutes okay? I’ll be right here, I just need to make a call.
~Marigold takes off running and giggling. Matt swipes through his phone, to the missed calls list.
“OCW”
“OCW”
“OCW”
“OCW”
“OCW”
“OCW”
“TTWQ”
“OCW”
“OCW”
He exhales heavily once more, flapping his lips. He presses his screen and holds his phone up to his ear.~
Matt Meyhu: Hey Ezra… Yeah… Thank you… I appreciate it, listen, I didn’t call to talk about this. This is a business call. Yeah. Go ahead and let them know I’m in.
You tell them if they want the face of the franchise back for their biggest event of the year, I’m game. Let them know ‘The Marvel’ is riding that ship to that insane structure of theirs, mowing down the competition and taking back what belongs to him… Of course I want a private space, I’m feeling motivated, not poor.
I’ve faced bigger fields and longer odds than this. I may be rusty, I may be going in blind, completely unaware of who this competition even is. That doesn’t matter. I dictate the terms here. They’re the ones who aren’t ready. The bar has never been set too high for me. This match is as big as I make it. Matt Meyhu is the measuring stick everybody else uses in OCW. My name alone changes the structure of this match. It alters the mindset of the other twenty competitors. When my music hits, it’s no longer “can I outlast my peers” and shifts to “what’s the prize for second place,” because the whole world knows when I show up, I win.
I’ve fought for the OCW title more times than I can remember. I went to war over the Hall of the Fame championship. I’ve faced legend after legend. If they’re worth a damn, I’ve faced them… To be the best, you have to beat the best, and I’ve damn sure done that. I’ve won rumbles. Ironman matches. I’ve ended careers and made stars. I’ve done everything I’ve ever dreamed of in this business, but still… I feel I might be heading toward the most important moment of my career.
On February 26th, Carpe Noctem 2, Matt Meyhu sets out to reclaim the OCW championship. He aims to re-establish his spot at the top of the food chain. Don’t call it a comeback! I’ve been away but not gone. Those years of battles in the ring and behind the curtain took their toll, but here I am. Rejuvenated, and ready to start the next chapter. Backed by a driving force greater than the greed that drove the ship before. Legacy. When I’m truly done, I want who I was as a competitor to be undeniable. No asterisks. No question marks. No ‘what ifs.’ This story doesn’t involve lying, cheating, and stealing. It’s about proving a point. Leaving a permanent mark on this place. ‘The Marvel’ Matt Meyhu is, was, and always will be the FACE of OCW.
Leave no doubts.
~Matt hangs up the phone and slips it back into his pocket, satisfied. He turns around and inspects the backyard playground once more. The swings. The slide. The makeshift basketball court. The clubhouse. Just then, Marigold pops her head out the window of the hut.~
Marigold: Daddy, it’s my restaurant! What would you like?
Matt Meyhu: Oh, uh… Well, how about a biscuit and a beer? And make it snappy!
Marigold: …We don’t sell biscuits.
Matt Meyhu: What? This place has always sold biscuits! Why not?
Marigold: I dunno, we just don’t.
Matt Meyhu: I want to speak to the manager!
Marigold: Nope.
~Menu has changed under the new regime, but the customer service at Chez Matt has stayed about the same.~
Matt Meyhu: Well, what do you have?
Marigold: Ummmm…
…
…
…
~The suspense is killing Matt!~
Marigold: Biscuits. I forgot.
~You gotta be kidding me.~
Matt Meyhu: Oh, wonderful! How about that beer?
Marigold: We don’t have beer. We have tea.
Matt Meyhu: …Fine, one tea please.
~Matt exchanges a handful of wood chips for a rock and a twig.~
Matt Meyhu: You know, we could probably open up a few locations, really leave our mark on the metro area.
Marigold: Mmm, no.
Matt Meyhu: Sure, yeah, your call.
Matt’s wife, Tiffany, pokes her head out of the back door and spots Matt, who is now eyeing the small playhouse that pulled double duty as both clubhouse and drive thru restaurant in the 90’s.~
Tiffany: Matt!
Matt Meyhu: Hang on.
Tiffany: We’re almost-
Matt Meyhu: I just need a minute! I’m reflecting!
~Man, that was a great clubhouse. Chez Matt. The best-~
Tiffany: Okay, well have you at least seen-
Matt Meyhu: REFLECTING!
~Tiffany stares at the slide for a moment, inspecting it. She smiles and waves toward it.~
Tiffany: Reflect away. We’ll be in here when you’re ready.
~Matt, still locked on his old hideout, sends a half-hearted wave towards his wife, who is no longer standing there. She has returned inside with Matt’s brother, Mike, and sister, Megan. Matt thinks about walking over to the clubhouse and crawling inside. In fact, he almost feels a force shoving him off the slide toward it. But he pushes back against it. He’s just not ready. The monkey bars were easy. His feet touch the ground now. Challenge the guy, why don’t ya?! Wiggling his way down this slide took some work, but nothing ‘The Marvel’ himself couldn’t handle! However, forcing his way into that little shack? There might be no way out but to tear the thing down. No way, not going to happen. That thing is way too valuable. Too many memories. Matt releases a heavy sigh.~
Matt Meyhu: Those were the days… A biscuit and tea, and make it snappy!
~Grandma Martha’s go-to order from the Meyhu sibling’s backyard cafe.
Matt and his siblings have just spent their first night here together since they were teenagers… Under less than ideal circumstances. Two nights ago, the three of them stayed overnight in the hospital together, curled up in chairs at Martha’s side. Her fourth trip to the hospital in the last year. Today, the Meyhu kids are focused on digging through the home they spent a significant chunk of their childhood in, reminiscing, and making funeral arrangements. Most of them, anyway. Some of them are working through… Other things.~
“I’m so proud of the man you have become... You’ve been through lots of ups and downs… But you’re better for it… You’re the leader this family needs…”
~Her words echo through Matt’s mind. He rests his head in his hands for a moment, slumped over as his body barely clings onto the edge of the slide made for young children. He lifts his head with a sense of dignity.~
Matt Meyhu: …I’ve got a lot to be proud of. Ups and downs, sure. Who hasn’t dealt with some of that? That’s just human. I’ve been through one of the most successful wrestling careers of all-time! I’m the OCW Hall of Fame Champion for cryin’ out loud! Went out on a high note. I’m a legend. Other wrestlers still talk about me. They dream about being me. I’m a leader in an entire industry!
~Matt clenches his jaw as he is overcome with an unfamiliar feeling. A pitter-patter along his back, and a rumbling in his chest. Is this what a heart attack feels like? Can’t be. Matt Meyhu is the lime standard of health. A panic attack? Maybe… But standing across from some of the foes ‘The Marvel’ has should induce more panic than some wimpy feelings! Indigestion? Not likely. He hasn’t eaten in days at this point. Whatever it is, it fades away. Conquered by Matt Meyhu, not unlike some of professional wrestling’s best and brightest.~
“Your ambition knows no bounds… You’ve taken care of yourself, your siblings, and me… You’re a role model… You’ve got such a bright future…”
Matt Meyhu: I’ve been the breadwinner for this family for years now… So many that I’ve lost count. Shit, I’ve carried a whole promotion on my back! Call it ambition, call it sheer will, call it whatever. I’m beyond role model status at this point… If I want to restart that career, my future run sure will be bright.
~Matt retrieves his phone from his pocket. Must not be anything new, as he slides it back in immediately, right as he feels a metaphorical kick in his ass. Exactly what he needs to get back on his feet and join the effort inside. Still, he fights back. He holds steady, not letting himself be forced into a situation he’s not ready for. ‘The Marvel’ glances through the back window of the house and sees Tiffany, seated around the dining room table with the other Meyhus. His wife spots him and motions for him to head inside. His siblings catch wind of this and try to lure him in as well. He shakes his head. Not interested.~
Matt Meyhu: Maybe later.
~They can’t hear him from that distance, which is fine. He doesn’t want to be heard. As the trio at the table goes back to their conversation and coffee, Matt continues to stare. He observes his siblings. Sad, sure, but pushing through it. Doing their best. What more can they do? They’re normal. The cashier and waiter at Chez Matt. Matt was the chef. Silver and bronze in the Swingset Olympics. You already know who the winner was. Second and third fiddle. But the best wingman and wingwoman a guy could ask for.
It can’t be easy on them, being overshadowed by the baby of the family. Matt never needed Mike’s basketball tips. He didn’t want those cups of tea from Megan. But he accepted them. It was his pleasure. Those two needed propping up. They needed it as kids, and they still need it now, as adults. And Grandma Martha knew it. She helped raise them. Always there to look after them while their parents traveled for months at a time. She had to know it.~
Matt Meyhu: She knew it. She knew what they needed to hear…
~The pressure builds. The energy willing Matt off the end of the slide reaches its peak, pushing with all its might. Matt resists, leaning back. It fades. Matt exhales and closes his eyes. Holding back a whole lot more than just the urge to stand up and confront the mementos and antiques filling the shelves inside that house. He continues to take deep breaths as he replays the events of the morning before in his head…~
***
Matt wakes from his slumber and wipes the drool from his cheek. His brother and sister are already awake, and stand at either side of Martha’s bed, each holding a hand. They shoot him a look indicating they have been waiting for him for quite some time. Matt yawns, stretches, and sets the hoodie playing the role of blanket on the empty chair next to him before propelling himself up to his feet. Finally. He walks to the foot of the bed, completing the semi-circle around their grandma.
Martha Meyhu: Glad you could join us.
Her voice is weaker than usual, but her sarcasm is still intact.
Matt Meyhu: For sure, no problem. You guys been up long?
Martha Meyhu: Long enough. I just needed to talk to you three. Together.
Matt Meyhu: Sure, what’s up?
The next few minutes were hard to digest. Matt wasn’t prepared. Mike and Megan weren’t either. They had become old pros at this. A few days in the hospital, a new prescription to fill, and back to the house for tea… Or beer. But not this time. A year of fighting had taken its toll, and the doctors were no longer optimistic. Martha was prepared to make her last stand, and there was no talking her out of it. This would be her last trip to this hospital.
Martha Meyhu: ...I’ve lived a good 94 years, kids. I want to thank you for that. I’ve got so much joy watching you three grow up. If this is my legacy right here in this room… I can’t be any more satisfied…
Not a dry eye between the three siblings or a word to say. The moment of silence lasted what felt like hours as the three struggled to come to terms with the news tossed in their laps. A few attempts are made at speaking but no noise comes out. Martha breaks the silence with her soft, struggling voice.
Martha Meyhu: You three go grab breakfast, gather your thoughts. I know this can’t be easy.
The siblings silently nod, nothing more than three sad bobbleheads being shaken by a life-altering earthquake. Martha pulls Mike in closer to her momentarily.
Martha Meyhu: Mike… I’m so proud of the man you have become... You’ve been through lots of ups and downs… But you’re better for it… You’re the leader this family needs right now… Stay strong for me, and your brother and sister.
Mike leans in and gives his grandmother a hug, hiding his face from his siblings. When he finally withdraws, he gives the Meyhu matriarch a nod in agreement. He slowly heads for the door. Megan’s turn. Martha pulls her in close.
Martha Meyhu: Megan… Your ambition knows no bounds, there is nothing you can’t do. You’ve taken care of yourself, your siblings, and me. All while kick starting your new career. You’re a role model, especially to your niece… You’ve got such a bright future… Please, keep an eye on them, but you deserve to focus on yourself…
Megan agrees as she sobs into her grandmother’s shoulder. Matt watches on, anxious. His hands shake a little as Megan peels away from Martha and drags her feet over to Mike, embracing him. Matt makes eye contact with Martha, who motions him over. He swallows hard and begins the walk toward her, slowly. Loss like this is a foreign feeling to Matt, one that he isn’t so sure can be remedied with a few proud, parting words. He reaches Martha and holds her hand. He takes a deep breath. She pulls him in closer to speak to him.
Martha Meyhu: Matt… You are so talented. A natural at everything you do…
Matt Meyhu: Mmhmm.
Martha Meyhu: I want you to start applying that ability to being an adult now. You’ve achieved everything you’ve set out to do. It’s required being selfish. It’s required stepping on people. That was okay then. It’s what you had to do. But you’ve got a family of your own now. It’s time to grow up. That little girl of yours idolizes you. I want to know that she is being shown the right things. I want her to grow up with the right examples. Hard work. Integrity. Do you understand?
Matt Meyhu: …Yes ma’am…
Martha Meyhu: You’re a sweet kid, Matt. I know it, these two know it. Marigold and Tiffany know it. Show the rest of the world…
Matt gives Martha a big hug. He lets go and grandma directs them toward the hallway to find breakfast, as if any of them had an appetite at this point. Matt joins his brother and sister, in a daze.
Martha Meyhu: I’ll see you soon, go eat.
***
~She didn’t see them soon. They were all pushing scrambled eggs around their plates, pretending to eat when they got the call. Ever since, Matt has been overanalyzing those words. Was Martha performing for the others? Was Matt really that disconnected? I guess we’ll never know…~
Matt Meyhu: I just… Don’t get it…
~Just then, a muffled, echoing voice chimes in.~
Marigold: Daddy?
~Matt looks around, confused. His daughter is nowhere to be found.~
Marigold: I’m bored. Can you please move?
~The gears start turning rapidly for Matt, his eyes open wide. He shoots to his feet and Marigold comes tumbling out of the tube and onto the bark dust below. Matt, lime green shirt covered in dusty footprints, scoops his daughter up and places her back on her feet.~
Matt Meyhu: I’m sorry sweetie, I didn’t hear you come out!
Marigold: You’re silly, daddy! I came out with you. We went down the slide at the same time.
Matt Meyhu: Huh… If you say so.
Marigold: Were you talking to yourself?
Matt Meyhu: Uh… I guess I was, yeah.
Marigold: Is grandma Martha coming home soon?
Matt Meyhu: I’m afraid not.
Marigold: Oh…
Matt Meyhu: Yeah…
Marigold: After we go home will she come back?
~Matt lets out a heavy sigh and rubs his brow. There are, at a minimum, three other people at this residence better equipped to have this conversation, and he knows it. He clears his throat.~
Matt Meyhu: Grandma Martha won’t be around anymore, sweetie.
Marigold: Did she die?
~Just then, a small piece of dust, or pollen, or perhaps even a small insect, flies directly into Matt’s eye. That’s the only reasonable explanation as to why he looks away and covers his eyes with one hand. After a few seconds of allowing tears to cleanse the area, he continues.~
Matt Meyhu: Yeah… She did.
Marigold: So I can’t see her anymore?
~Matt shakes his head. Moments later, he has a teary-eyed five-year-old clinging to his leg. No pollutant here, this kid is crying. Matt gives her a moment before crouching down next to her and giving her a hug. He pulls his phone out of his pocket.~
Matt Meyhu: It’s going to be okay. You know what, if you ever want to see her, you let me know. We’ve got lots of pictures. Remember this one? When she took you trick or treating?
Marigold: I was a tiger.
Matt Meyhu: You sure were…
~Marigold wipes her face on her father’s shirt and inspects the picture. She smiles. She reaches out and swipes her finger on the screen back and forth, switching between the same two pictures over and over. Matt looks on, envious of the child’s ability to bounce from emotion to emotion seamlessly.~
Matt Meyhu: Come on, let's head in. I’m sure there’s snacks in there or something.
Marigold: I want to play. You were blocking me before!
~Matt’s eyes shift back to the kitchen window. Tiffany is again trying to wave them inside. Matt holds up a finger.~
Matt Meyhu: Yeah that’s fine, five minutes okay? I’ll be right here, I just need to make a call.
~Marigold takes off running and giggling. Matt swipes through his phone, to the missed calls list.
“OCW”
“OCW”
“OCW”
“OCW”
“OCW”
“OCW”
“TTWQ”
“OCW”
“OCW”
He exhales heavily once more, flapping his lips. He presses his screen and holds his phone up to his ear.~
Matt Meyhu: Hey Ezra… Yeah… Thank you… I appreciate it, listen, I didn’t call to talk about this. This is a business call. Yeah. Go ahead and let them know I’m in.
You tell them if they want the face of the franchise back for their biggest event of the year, I’m game. Let them know ‘The Marvel’ is riding that ship to that insane structure of theirs, mowing down the competition and taking back what belongs to him… Of course I want a private space, I’m feeling motivated, not poor.
I’ve faced bigger fields and longer odds than this. I may be rusty, I may be going in blind, completely unaware of who this competition even is. That doesn’t matter. I dictate the terms here. They’re the ones who aren’t ready. The bar has never been set too high for me. This match is as big as I make it. Matt Meyhu is the measuring stick everybody else uses in OCW. My name alone changes the structure of this match. It alters the mindset of the other twenty competitors. When my music hits, it’s no longer “can I outlast my peers” and shifts to “what’s the prize for second place,” because the whole world knows when I show up, I win.
I’ve fought for the OCW title more times than I can remember. I went to war over the Hall of the Fame championship. I’ve faced legend after legend. If they’re worth a damn, I’ve faced them… To be the best, you have to beat the best, and I’ve damn sure done that. I’ve won rumbles. Ironman matches. I’ve ended careers and made stars. I’ve done everything I’ve ever dreamed of in this business, but still… I feel I might be heading toward the most important moment of my career.
On February 26th, Carpe Noctem 2, Matt Meyhu sets out to reclaim the OCW championship. He aims to re-establish his spot at the top of the food chain. Don’t call it a comeback! I’ve been away but not gone. Those years of battles in the ring and behind the curtain took their toll, but here I am. Rejuvenated, and ready to start the next chapter. Backed by a driving force greater than the greed that drove the ship before. Legacy. When I’m truly done, I want who I was as a competitor to be undeniable. No asterisks. No question marks. No ‘what ifs.’ This story doesn’t involve lying, cheating, and stealing. It’s about proving a point. Leaving a permanent mark on this place. ‘The Marvel’ Matt Meyhu is, was, and always will be the FACE of OCW.
Leave no doubts.
~Matt hangs up the phone and slips it back into his pocket, satisfied. He turns around and inspects the backyard playground once more. The swings. The slide. The makeshift basketball court. The clubhouse. Just then, Marigold pops her head out the window of the hut.~
Marigold: Daddy, it’s my restaurant! What would you like?
Matt Meyhu: Oh, uh… Well, how about a biscuit and a beer? And make it snappy!
Marigold: …We don’t sell biscuits.
Matt Meyhu: What? This place has always sold biscuits! Why not?
Marigold: I dunno, we just don’t.
Matt Meyhu: I want to speak to the manager!
Marigold: Nope.
~Menu has changed under the new regime, but the customer service at Chez Matt has stayed about the same.~
Matt Meyhu: Well, what do you have?
Marigold: Ummmm…
…
…
…
~The suspense is killing Matt!~
Marigold: Biscuits. I forgot.
~You gotta be kidding me.~
Matt Meyhu: Oh, wonderful! How about that beer?
Marigold: We don’t have beer. We have tea.
Matt Meyhu: …Fine, one tea please.
~Matt exchanges a handful of wood chips for a rock and a twig.~
Matt Meyhu: You know, we could probably open up a few locations, really leave our mark on the metro area.
Marigold: Mmm, no.
Matt Meyhu: Sure, yeah, your call.