Complete the Story 22 of 198

 The Lake was still and shiny as glass, as if he could step on it and walk all the way across. It was one of those nights when it actually seemed possible. He stood there, breathing deep as he imagined himself swimming all the way across. It was all that he could do. It was his only option. The boat would not start and there was no other way off of this small island other than to swim. In normal circumstances they might brave the night & wait till morning. By then be it fishermen, boaters or the occasional sight seeing scenic plane tour guide, sooner or later someone was bound to see them and bring them back to the mainland. These were anything other than normal circumstances. Jeremiah had been bitten by a venomous snake and Cody knew that time was something that he was not given. He had to get to help and he had to get it as soon as possible. 

He was full of emotions, anger and fear. Jeremiah had seen the snake and went over to pick it up. Why couldn't he have just left it alone? The warning they had been taught when they were little had cemented itself in Cody's brain the moment he had first heard it, but Jeremiah always got it turned around. It was red on black, friend of jack. Red on yellow, I'll kill you fellow. Jeremiah had switched it around. He thought it was red on yellow, I'm a friendly fellow. Red on black, I'll kill you jack.  

"It's a scarlet king snake." Jeremiah argued. 

"No, it's a coral snake!" Cody screamed. "And the damn thing just bit you!" 

As the two walked back to the boat Cody couldn't help but feel resentment against Jeremiah. They weren't even supposed to be here to begin with. He had gone over to stay the night at Jeremiah's house, lying to his own parents that Jeremiah's single mother would be home all night. Truth was she worked as a bar tender at a club that was open till 4:00 a.m. and she usually didn't get home until 5:00.  

"We can go out to the island," Jeremiah had suggested to him. "Take the boat and go fishing." 

Cody tried to talk Jeremiah out of it as he suggested watching movies or playing video games but Jeremiah had his mind made up. Ever since his Grandpa had taken them out to the island, it seemed it was always where Jeremiah wanted to be. Cody figured it was because living in the populated area of Florida that they did, it was one of the only places where Jeremiah ever felt at peace. He wasn't a real people person and he enjoyed being alone. It didn't get anymore "alone" than the island. 

"It won't start." Cody kept turning the key but the boat would not start. They tried to start it manually but it wouldn't start that way either. 

"Something's wrong with the engine," Jeremiah said as he starred at the bite marks on his hand. 

Cody knew it was useless as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and tried to dial 911. There was never any reception at the island.  He watched as Jeremiah tried to dial out on his phone as well.  

"Shit!" Jeremiah repeated it over and over again. "Shit! Shit!" 

"Don't panic." Cody said to him. 

"What do you mean don't panic?" Jeremiah was almost in tears. "I just got bit by a f'n coral snake. I'm gonna die out here!" 

"No you're not." Cody said to him. "Please calm down. If you panic your heart will beat faster and your blood will pump faster. That'll pump the venom through you faster and it'll kill you faster. Please calm down. Breath as slowly as possible." 

Cody grabbed a big blanket from the boat as he laid it on the ground.  They had already built a fire as Cody stoked it as much as he could hoping that it would burn through the rest of the night. 

"Lay as still as possible," He told Jeremiah. "Don't move." 

"What are you going to do?" Jeremiah asked. 

"Go get help." 

It was a little less than half a mile to the shore. About 7 football fields. Cody had never swam that far in his life. Conditioning was the least of his worries though.  These waters were known to frequent Gators and although it was rare for them to attack during the fall weather, Cody knew that you could never rule it out completely. The temperature was in the high 60's, just below the 70 degree marker that experts claim is the bare minimum that one should enter the water. While the jaws of an alligator might not clamp down on him, he might very well feel the bite of hypothermia.  Still he knew that while death might come for him in that water, it would come for Jeremiah if he didn't jump in. He took a big breath and before he knew it he was submerged in the lake  heading towards the shore. 

As he swung his arms and kicked his legs in what is known as the American Crawl, he wondered how much time had already passed.  From the snake bite to trying to start the boat to calming Jeremiah down and stoking the fire, all of it had to have taken at least five minutes.  At this point, he was probably up to at least 10. As he starred ahead all he could see throughout the black darkness was a dim light that shined on the porch of the Hansen house. They were a rich family, both doctors with lake side property who often vacationed in the winter. They usually didn't take off until around the end of November, but every once in a while they'd leave earlier.  While everyone else from everywhere else seemed to come to Florida during these times, the Hansen's often left to avoid the tourist. Cody could only hope this wasn't one of those times. If they were home, he could arrive on the shore and be at their house within minutes.  If they were not home, the next house was at least another mile if not more up the road. 

He wondered how Jeremiah was faring. He knew the venom of some snakes worked slow while the venom of other snakes worked fast. He couldn't remember if Coral snake venom was a venom that would kill you in 20 minutes or if it was one that took more time. Of course he hoped for the latter but couldn't help but fight thoughts of the prior. He imagined showing up with help and Jeremiah lying dead on the ground. The thoughts gave him a second wind as he somehow found the strength to throw his arms and kick his legs harder.  

In what seemed like forever, the top of his right foot came down and hit something that felt scaly. His mind went into a panic as his first thought was that it had to be an alligator. He put his foot down again as he realized it was only the rocks buried within the mud.  He was close to the shore.  In a dead sprint he made it to the land as he ran up the hill to the Hansen's house. His only guide, the porch light that they always left on. Reaching the the porch, he beat as hard as he could on the door as he began to here the sound of a dog barking. 

Exhausted he collapsed on the porch in relief and hope. The Hansen's always took their dog with them whenever they left for vacation. They had not taken off yet. Nevertheless it still seemed to take forever before other lights turned on and the door finally opened. 

"Wendy?" Cody was surprised to see it was only the Hansen's 12 year old daughter, who was two grades behind him. 

"Cody?" She said. "What are you doing here? It's 1:00 a.m." 

"Are you parents home?" Cody asked. "This is an emergency. I need to see your mom and Dad." 

"Mom's visiting Aunt Cheryl in Vermont. Dad had to go to the E.R." 

"Can I have your cell phone?" 

"I don't have it."

"You don't have it!?!?!" 

"I had it taken away from me, " Wendy said. "I got in trouble yesterday. What's wrong?" 

"We were out on the island," Cody explained. "Jeremiah got bit by a coral snake." 

Suddenly Wendy matched Cody in his concern.  Cody sucked the wind remembering how he had told Jeremiah about a half hour earlier not to panic.  Did he have enough energy to run to the next house on down the road. Even when he was completely fresh the mile run during P.E. had taken him about seven and a half minutes. How long would it take now that his legs and arms felt like jello from the swim? 

"I'm gonna have to try and make it to the next house," He said. "Do you think they're home?"

"Wait," Wendy said. "We can take our other car." 

Wendy took off and was back within what seemed like only a few seconds. She threw the keys at him. 

He was freshly 14. He had never driven a car before. He knew Wendy had never driven one either.  This wasn't the best of ideas, but it was their best option. 

They ran out to the car as they got inside. Cody had seen his parents as well as many others do this plenty of times before. It couldn't be that hard. Yet when he put the car in reverse and put his foot down on the pedal, the wheels screech as they came within millimeters of hitting the white picket fence that surrounded the yard. 

"Don't hit the gas pedal so hard."  

Cody had figured that out for himself. 

As bumpy as the ride was, they were heading toward the hospital.  Of all the things that had gone wrong, Cody was thankful that the hospital was on the outskirts of town. One of the first buildings you arrived at as you entered the community. 

They pulled up to the Emergency Room entrance as Cody put the car into park and the two of them ran in. He ran up to the woman at the front desk. 

"My friend has been bitten by a coral snake!" He yelled at her. 

Soon Cody and Wendy were in a room as Cody explained the situation to the to a team of medical experts. 

The one grabbed his walkie talkie as he held it up to his mouth. 

"Prep the copter," He said as he looked at Cody.  "You're coming with us." 

Cody had seen the hospital helicopters many times throughout his life. He always wondered what it'd be like to fly in one although he thought he'd never get to.  Now he was following a group of medical staff as they led him outside and into the the front seat of one of them. All in all there besides him there was the pilot and two medics. 

"You are sure it was a coral snake?" The one said to him as the other prepared needles that Cody could only assume were full of antivenin.  

"Yeah," Cody answered. "Red, yellow, black." 

"This is the Island in the middle of May's lake?" 

"Yeah," Cody answered. 

"What side are you guys on? What should we look for?" 

"A white motorboat and a fire. It should still be burning." 

By the time Cody had jumped into the water until he had arrived at the hospital had to have taken at least an hour. Maybe more. The helicopter ride took took all of five minutes.  As they spotted the fire, the pilot landed the helicopter on the shore right next to the water.

"Wait here," The one said to Cody.

It was the longest wait of Cody's life. He feared what they might find when they came up to that fire. Would they find Jeremiah's lifeless body? Would he have succumbed to the venom yet? Would Jeremiah be on his last leg? Vomiting and convulsing?  What would his condition be? Had Cody made it in enough time?  As he sat there waiting he began to shake at the thought of the medics bringing the corpse of his friend back to the helicopter. Would they really do that? If Jeremiah was dead would they really bring his body to the helicopter and bring it back to the hospital? Or would they leave it out there and come back for it later?  He closed his eyes as he began to remember the first time Jeremiah's grandfather had taken them to the Island. 

"Someday I'm sure you'll be big enough to come out here by yourselves," He had said to them. 

"Yeah," Jeremiah had said. "Once I'm big enough, I'll be out here all the time." 

"Promise me one thing," His Grandpa said as he grabbed him by the shoulder and looked him in the eye. "Never come out here alone. Always come together." 

Jeremiah and Cody both promised but there words weren't good enough for Jeremiah's Grandpa. 

"Your hands on it" He insisted.  

He held out his hand and Jeremiah put his on top of it and Cody put his hand on top of his. It was the solid oath of Jeremiah's family. If you gave your hand on something, it was gold. 

"Cody?" 

It was the greatest noise that Cody had ever heard. It was Jeremiah's voice. He opened his eyes. He couldn't believe what he saw.  The medics were lifting Jeremiah into the Helicopter on a padded gurney. Jeremiah didn't look any different than what he had when Cody had left him. His face wasn't pale. His eyes weren't dim. Hell, he didn't even look sick. Spent from the exhaustion of worry but nowhere near the ready to be put six feet under that Cody had expected to see him in. 

"Lay back," The Paramedic said to him. "Be still but keep your eyes open. Look at me. Watch me."

Cody was confused. Happy, but confused. It made no sense to him that Jeremiah was in such good shape. He was glad he was in such good shape, but it made no sense. 

A few moments later they were back at the hospital. Jeremiah was wheeled away as Cody was taken to another area where Wendy was. 

"Is he ok?" Wendy asked. 

"I think so," Cody answered. 

"Was he really sick?" Wendy asked. "Was he able to talk?" 

"Yeah," Cody said. "He was talking. He seemed to be just fine." 

Wendy had the same look of relieved yet confused that Cody did. 

The two sat in the room both with a million thoughts racing through their heads but neither said anything.  

"So how did our car ride?" 

Cody looked up. It was Wendy's father, Dr. Hansen. 

"Yeah," Cody said as he stood up. "I'm sorry about that." 

"No," Dr. Hansen said to him as he reached out and patted him. "There's nothing to be sorry about. It was an emergency. You had to help your friend." 

Cody smiled. "Yeah, how is he?" 

"Just fine," Dr. Hansen smiled. "It was a dry bite." 

"What do you mean a dry bite?" Cody asked. 

"Sometimes Coral snakes as well as other snakes will bite defensively without injecting venom. Their venom is very precious to them. If they don't have to use it they won't." 

"You mean to tell me that Jeremiah wasn't even envenomated?" 

"No." 

Cody hung his head. He felt really stupid. He had bared a lake known to have alligators in what could have very well been hypothermic temperatures over 700 yards to be told that Jeremiah's life hadn't even been in danger. 

"What's wrong?" Dr. Hansen asked. 

"I feel like an idiot," Cody answered. "I feel like a fool." 

"Son," Dr. Hansen grabbed him in a hug. " You are anything but an idiot. You are anything but a fool. You thought your friend was in danger and you risked your own life to save him." 

 

Thank You Vince McMahon

 The timing on this post couldn't be any worse than what it is. In the heat of a sex scandal I suppose I will be accused of honoring a man that committed adultery on his wife while taking advantage of other women. Believe me, I do not condone those acts. I don't overlook them.  What I am doing right now is recognizing in spite of all the wrong that Vince McMahon may have done, all of the right that he did too.  

Wrestling at many levels has been and continues to be a huge part of my life. I run my own collegiate wrestling website & I'm fairly successful with it. I'm not getting rich off of it by any means but I have a decent following & it helps me cover a few bills here and there. None of that would have been possible without Vince McMahon. 

If you go back to the very beginning. The root of my love and passion for wrestling, it all starts with my early interest in the WWE all the way back in 1989. That's when I saw my first WWE professional wrestling match & that's when I fell in love with professional wrestling.  This of course led to getting involved in amateur wrestling.  So yes, as much as amateur wrestling has been a huge part of my life for nearly all of my life, I owe a thank you to Vince McMahon. 

Here's how I'll remember the good that he did....

If I had to pick my very favorite memory of Vince McMahon, this interview with Andre The Giant in 1979 would have to be it. It took place a good 6 years before I was even born, but with syndication and reruns I saw it many times while growing up. I love it both from a fan point of a view and from a worker point of view. It was clear to tell that McMahon had a deep respect and admiration for Andre. Yes, he was a shrewd business man who saw $ signs left and right when looking at Andre, but I also think he appreciated Andre enough to pay him well and treat him fairly.  If there is a darkness and a light within all of us, I think it was this moment when McMahon's light shined brightest. 

I'm probably the only person alive who would say this, but I enjoyed Vince McMahon the most when he took on the role of simply being a play by play color commentator. I remember being so confused during the news of the steroid scandal back in the early 1990's. I remember wondering why in the world Vince McMahon was standing trial? Where was Jack Tunney? Why wasn't he being questioned? Why was all this pressure being put on Vince McMahon who was nothing more than a commentator?  A lot of people act as if they've always known that Vince was the owner/operator of the WWE, but I think quite a few were like me.  I think that back when he played it off as if he were nothing more than a commentator, that most were unaware that he was the head of the WWE. It took my Dad explaining it to me back when I was 7 years old or so, to understand what was going on. 

Looking back now, I think it was brilliant. It's exactly how I would handle such a business, if there be any other business like professional wrestling. Blend in with the rest of the crowd. Create the illusion, feed the mystery. To me it's no different than a writer who takes on a pseudonym. I began watching professional wrestling in 1989 and I followed it like a hawk up until late 1997. Those eight years were a very magical time for me, especially the first four.  I realize that professional wrestling had but no other choice to change, but from a fan perspective I miss those days. 

I was never a huge Attitude Era fan. There were moments I appreciated about the Attitude Era but my love for the WWE will always be the decade most refer to as the Hogan Era. With that said, I understand that times were changing and that the WWE had no choice but to evolve. I admire Vince McMahon's ability to see and recognize that changes needed to be made. He was essentially going through the exact same thing that he had put all of his opposition through 10 years prior. He knew he had to study what they had done and see where they had gone wrong. When he started to take the talent of the AWA for example, he saw how owner Vern Gagne wanted to keep doing everything as he had always done it. Gagne wasn't willing to change with the times & as a result it cost him his livelihood. It cost him his business of 40 years. McMahon knew better than to let that happen. In the mid 1990's, WCW was snatching all of the WWE's top talent. Hulk Hogan, Roddy Piper, Randy Savage & the list goes on. At first McMahon tried to attack his former talent for their age, but that wasn't working. As he was about to lose Bret Hart, that's when he got creative and realized that the WWE needed a whole new overhaul. This is when we started seeing the roots of the Attitude Era. Goldust, Stone Cold Steve Austin, Triple H. It all began to form. I feel sometimes that things went too far. The hypersexual tone, the perverseness, the inappropriate innuendoes. It wasn't for me, but I respect and understand why it came to that level. McMahon not only kept the ship from sinking, he brought it into harbor early.  

It was way past due, but as the saying goes, "better late, than never."  I'm always going to respect that Vince McMahon let Bret Hart get his revenge match. I wish it would have been sooner, when the two could have really executed a beautiful, brilliant match, but nonetheless on principle alone I'm still glad it happened. Justice is rarely served in this world. Most of the time people are wronged and that's usually the end of it. I suppose that's why vengeance is referred to as "so sweet" when it actually does happen. Watching McMahon get put into the sharpshooter was a glorious moment not only for me, but for millions of other fans too. 

As much as one can learn from Vince McMahon's successes, I think there's a lot to be gained from studying his failures too. Sink or swim, McMahon was never afraid to roll the dice. He owned the craps table all night long when he continuously rolled sevens with WRESTLEMANIA. He took a huge risk in completely changing the image of professional wrestling back in the early to mid 1980's & then he did it again in the late 90's. All of those ventures paid off, but he had some other ideas that went straight into the toilet.  I don't know what in the Hell he was thinking with the World Bodybuilding Federation. I think most people appreciate a good physique or at least the amount of hard work it takes to obtain one. It's no joke that even though Bobby Eaton can work circles around The Ultimate Warrior that most fans would rather see the Warrior's physique than they would Eaton's.  Yet to think that people were going to want to sit and watch videos of men and women posing all day was a humorous as it sounds. The XFL was another venture that McMahon got into that at least upon its initial run didn't work out. It just goes to show that sometimes people have their niches. They have certain things that they are good at and certain things that they are not. Professional wrestling was McMahon's specialty. It was his calling. Very few of us ever meet up with what it is that we're supposed to be doing. Even those of us that do, the circumstances and resources available to us don't always match up as they should. They did for Vince McMahon. 

He wasn't always nice about it. He was cutthroat, cutnut, and in many ways absolutely ruthless. He wanted to be number one. Lies, manipulation, trickery, he stopped at nothing to achieve his goals. Are those characteristics admirable? No, but what they are is revealing. It makes one question if it is possible to reach the heights that Vince McMahon did by playing the game fairly. Can you walk out a winner if you're honest, genuine and sincere?  I think McMahon had these qualities as well and that he did display them at times. I question if the darker side of him was inherent or if he realized at a young age it was the only way to get ahead? 

What I do know is that I fell in love with professional wrestling back in 1989 and it had a significant impact on my life. It gave me  a lot of joy for a period of 8 years or so of watching it on Mondays, Saturdays and Sundays. It's how my Dad got me to start reading with various magazines that he would buy me. It was toys. Video rentals. You name it.  Then it became getting involved in amateur wrestling & falling in love with that. Then it became 6 years of actually doing professional wrestling. Now it's me running my own collegiate wrestling website.  So yeah, I owe Vince McMahon a thank you. Indirectly he's been and will continue to be a big part of my life. Thank you Vince McMahon. 

Complete The Story 21 of 198

 I asked her if she was joking. Her frown told me she wasn't. "Every last penny, gone," She said. "And that's not the worst of it." She paused a moment before continuing as she leaned across the table.  

"She got the house, all of his belongings. His entire estate." 

"Explain to me how this happened." I said as held my cup of coffee sinking into the booth. 

"Somehow or another over the least few months she was able to go in and convince Dad that everything should be left to her. She got him to change the will. Sign his name to it and everything." 

 I took a big gulp of my steaming hot coffee hoping that it might warm me up, but it didn't. The news of what Janice was telling me had made me turn stone cold. That coffee could have been 1,000,000 degrees and I still would have sat their frozen. 

I didn't know what to say, so I just sat there starring at the table. How could Kara have done this? How could she be so selfish?  Adding up everything, Dad was worth about $650,000. Take out an inheritance tax and the three of us would have been left with about $165,000 a piece. Plenty for me, plenty for Janice. Obviously not  enough for Kara. She needed the whole amount for herself. 

I thought to myself how Dad would never have stood for this in his right mind. He had always insisted that the three of us would divide everything he had worked for into a third. His mind had to have been completely gone in order for Kara to have been able to pull this off. 

Janice began talking again, but I wasn't listening. I was too busy thinking about other things. I thought of Dad's military valor. The medals he had earned from Vietnam and some of the other things he had brought back from the war. I'm sure some of it was probably worth something, but neither Janice or I had ever concerned ourselves with that. We both knew how important that stuff was to Dad and we both intended on keeping our promise that as long as we were alive, it would be kept safe. Kara would sell it the second she got offered a good price for it.  I thought of Dad's thoroughbred hounds Rusty and Ralph. At his age he had no business buying two puppies the way he did two years ago, but none of us knew how sick he was or how quickly he'd go. Kara didn't care if they went to a pound or to an Asian meat market as long as the price was right.

"I wish we would have done this to her." 

I looked up to make eye contact with Janice. She continued. 

"I'd have been fine with each of us getting half and leaving her out of it." 

It was a fair thought, but something neither one of us could have done. Kara could have screwed us 100 times over before either of us would have ever done the same thing to her. A good conscious will protect anyone and everyone before it'll ever look out for itself. Dad had made it clear to the three of us that he wanted all three of us to benefit from the inheritance. As much as neither Janice or I could stand Kara, both of us would have always made sure she got her third. 

"Is there anyway we can fight this?" I already knew the answer but I asked the question anyway. 

"I don't see how," Janice answered. "He changed it. He signed it." 

"Yeah," I said. "But he wasn't in his right mind. The man was dying of Alzheimer's. She manipulated him and took advantage of him." 

Janice took a deep breath. 

"Maybe," She said. "But I imagine we'd have to get an attorney involved. I don't have the money for that." 

"Neither do I," I said. 

Janice and I starred at one another for a second. I didn't know what she was thinking or feeling, but if I had to guess I would say she was thinking and feeling the same way I was. Both of us looked at the other hoping that one of us would have an answer to all of this. Both of us disappointed in ourselves that neither of us did. I wanted to be there for her. She wanted to be there for me. Yet all we offered one another was the solace of knowing how much this sucked and how unfair it was. 

Janice was in a position to where this money could have really helped her out. Her husband died unexpectedly in an accident two years ago & she's been struggling and scrounging to raise her two boys ever since. $165K would give her a nice little nest egg to stop worrying so much and get back on her feet. I've been struggling my whole life. I'll be 50 in three years and I ain't got shit to my name. I live in an apartment and the only thing I own is a car that is falling apart. Two other guys I work with are thinking of opening up their own mechanic shop. I was gonna take $50,000 of my inheritance and go into business with them. Now I can't. This was finally going to be my opportunity to make something out of myself. Get somewhere in life and finally start building towards my future.  

Kara took that from me and she took it from Janice too. It'd be one thing if she were desperately hurting for money but she isn't. At least if she really needed it, then maybe I could forgive her.  Maybe I could understand what she's done. Kara married a guy for his money years ago and then got the poor bastard for everything he was worth in the divorce settlement. If there be an advertisement for prenuptial agreements, it is my sister Kara. She lives in a nice cottage up in the Hills, already able to sit on her ass doing as she pleases for the rest of her life. She doesn't need $500,000. She doesn't even need $165,000. 

Two hours ago Janice and I sat in Church at the First Reformatory in Glenhauser listening to a sermon from Pastor Smith Jeffries. He spoke of the importance of learning to love our enemy. If that's what I'm supposed to do, then call me defiant. I'm sure that it's probably a sin to even think of Kara as my enemy. I don't love her though. Hell, I don't even like her. I don't want to hate her, but I think if I have to be honest, I do.  

To take it all. To trick our mentally ill father who was dying of Alziehmer's changing his will and having him sign everything over to her. Maybe if it was just her and I, then maybe I could forgive that. But Janice is getting screwed in this ordeal too and I can't look past that. Wrong as it may be, I cannot look past that. I won't look past that. 

"I was going to put away $100,000 of that money for Todd & Tad's college." The hopelessness in Janice's demeaner was contagious.  

"More coffee?" The waitress had returned holding the pot in her hand as she awaited my answer. 

"Yes," I answered. "Thank you." 

She poured the cup to the top. 

"Sugars?" 

"Na," I said, "I take my coffee like I take my life...black."