The jangling of the telephone shattered Dillon’s sleep like a brick through a window pane. He rolled over, muttering obscenities as he answered. “This better be damned awful important!”
“Dillon, you’re not gonna believe this!” It was Andy. His voice sounded distraught. “You’re flat not gonna believe this!”
“You woke me up for that?”
“I woke ya up to tell ya Brad’s dead.”
Dillon was silent. Andy’s words hung iin his head, just beyond reach of his senses. “What? Run that by me again!”
“You heard right. Brad’s dead.”
“Are you SURE? I mean . . . how the hell’d you find out?”
“It’s all over the morning news. He was driving on Interstate 480 and pulled in front of a truck hauling gasoline. The truck ran over the top’ve him.”
“Holy shit! Me and Shilo saw him at the Cellar Bar last night, Andy. He was in no condition to be driving anywhere. I told him straight out not to try drive’n home and he promised me he was gonna take a cab.”
“It seems he didn’t take your advice.”
“Damn! This’s tough to get my head around. We’ll meet ya at the diner. Shilo’s still sleep’n.”
“I’ll see ya there.”
Dillon lit a cigarette. Andy’s words kept running through his mind. Shilo rolled over, her sleepy eyes smiling at Dillon. “Morning baby. Hey! What’s wrong? Who was that on the phone?”
Dillon exhaled a thick plume of smoke. “It was Andy. Brad’s dead.”
Shilo squinted her eyes. “What?”
“Sorta blows your mind, doesn’t it? Brad’s dead. Got killed in a car wreck over on the 480 early this morning.”
“But . . . we just saw him a few hours ago. I thought he was gonna take a cab home!”
“Me to, baby. Damn. I sure as hell would’ve taken him home if I thought he was gonna try and drive.”
Shilo’s expression froze. “Oh God! I dreamed this!”
Dillon gave her a quizzical stare. “What d’ya mean, babe?”
“I had a dream Dillon. I don’t remember much of it, but there was a truck. A big truck and a car under it, all mashed up. There were flames everywhere and people scream’n and yelling. I don’t remember much else.”
Dillon was silent for a moment. “Damn babe, Brad pulled over in front of a tanker truck hauling gasoline and got run over.” A chill slithered up his spine as he recalled his conversation with Andrew. Brad had chosen to trade his soul for financial success. Now, due to an unfortunate choice he was dead. Was it coincidence? Fate? Or . . . something else.
Andy was sitting in a booth staring out the window as Dillon and Shilo arrived. “I apologize for the rude awakening, This’s one hell of a morning!”
Shilo put her hand on Andy’s. “You doing okay?”
“Doin’ fine doll, a hell of a lot better than Brad, I s’pose.”
Dillon shook his head. “Ya know, I just realized somethin’. We don’t know much about Brad. Has he got any family that needs notified?”
Andy took a swallow of his coffee. “Damned if I know. I think he told me once that he’s got a brother in Chicago.”
“I know he talked about an ex-wife that’s living somewhere in New Jersey. Patterson, maybe . . .” Shilo’s statement hung in the air. “What’s gonna happen to his talent? The girls are gonna have to have a place to work. I s’pose I could talk to Velvet and see what their plans are.”
Dillon rested his chin on his hands. “We could rotate some of ‘em into our line-up. Our girls’d have to make a few less show dates though.”
“I don’t think the girls would mind doin’ that. Maybe we can call Howard in Vegas and see if he’s lookin’ for any new faces. I hear his promotion’s pick’n up real well.”
Shilo, Dillon and Andy spent the remainder of the morning discussing the events of the night before. Shilo left to find Velvet while Andy and Dillon drove back to their office. Work had to go on. There were shows to plan and videos to ship. None of the three were especially close to Brad, but the shock of his sudden death still weighed on them.
Two weeks passed and discussion of Brad’s sudden demise had mostly ceased. It was as if he’d never existed. The NAWWA gym was a hub of non-stop activity. Several of the women who’d worked for Brad chose to sign on with the group and others went to Las Vegas. Lola Marceaux decided to try her luck in the southeast. Velvet and Katrina were becoming good friends and were developing an alliance.
It was a warm, August afternoon and Shilo was working out with the other wrestlers at the gym. Bridgette and Shilo climbed out of the ring, dripping with sweat and breathing heavily. Velvet grinned. “Hey Shi! Looks like Bridgette almost kicked your ass, girl.”
Shilo grinned. “For sure. She’s getting too damn tough. I may have to take her down a notch or two.”
“Denise giggled. “You might want to do that soon!”
The friendly banter, blaring music and sounds of the action in the ring combined to create a pleasant kind of cacaphony in the gym. Andy and Dillon appeared in the doorway, watching as Cammie slammed her sister onto her back on the canvas. Andy shook his head and grinned. “Ya know, every time I think these girls have gotten as good as they can be, they get better yet.”
Shilo smiled proudly. “There’s no such a thing as good enough, Andy! Don’t you know that by now?”
“I do now, doll. I do now!”
A familiar sounding voice interrupted their conversation. “Hi everyone! Hey! I got my new boots! Check these out.” Katrina beamed as she showed off a new pair of custom made wrestling boots.
“Damn! Those look really good. Black suede! Very nice, girl. If we had the same size feet I’d trade you!” Shilo teased.
Katrina grinned. “Go get yourself a pair. I’m sure the shop that made these would just LOVE to sell another pair! Oh! By the way, did you bounce our idea off Dillon yet?”
Dillon glanced up. “What idea?”
“Katrina and I have an idea. How ‘bout we do an Australian Tag Team Match?”
Dillon paused for a moment. “You mean a tag match where both team mates have to be defeated to win?”
“Yea. Bridgette and I teamed against Katrina andVelvet. What d’ya think?”
“I dunno. There’s a reason most of the promotions don’t do it. It’s tough duty.”
“Well, we’re tough girls. We’d like to give it a try.”
“Seems to me like it can get rough enough in the ring without us adding to it, but I s’pose we could if you all want to. What d’ya think Andy?”
“It damn sure would make for one hell of a draw. If you gals are hell bent for election to try it . . . I s’pose it’d fly.”
Brad shivered slightly as he stood staring out into the desert night. Next to him was an abandoned train station and beneath his feet, worn and weathered wood. He was standing on a boarding platform and he could hear the sound of a train whistle in the distance. Brad stared at the sleek, black locomotive moving slowly toward him, pulling seven rail cars behind. It came to a stop near the platform and a tall, distinguished looking gentleman stepped down from the first car. “Good evening, sir. If you’ll give me your ticket and come aboard, we’ll be on our way.”
“I have NO idea what you’re talking about!” Brad shouted over the noise of the locomotive. “I’m not going anywhere! I don’t even know where I am!”
The conductor smiled politely. “You’re about to board the Hitchcock Railway sir. I believe your boarding pass is in your trouser pocket.”
Brad reached in his pocket and much to his amazement, felt a scrap of paper. He pulled it out and handed it to the conductor. Without a word, the conductor took the paper and motioned him aboard. Brad walked slowly down the aisle, peering intently at the riders sitting quietly in their chairs. Panic swept over him. It was as if he were staring into the eyes of the dead. He hurried on his way and soon found himself in a deserted dining car. A voice from behind startled him. “Won’t you join me for a cup of tea?”
Brad spun around and saw a man standing behind him with long, gray hair and piercing grey eyes. The man seemed familiar. “Haven’t I seen you before?”
“You have. It was I you made an agreement with regarding your soul. I am Andrew. Come. Join me at a table won’t you?” Andrew poured tea while Brad sat silently staring out the window.
“Where in the hell am I and why am I here?”
“We’ll discuss your questions soon enough. For now why not just relax and enjoy the ride?After all, there’s nowhere you need to be and there’s someone I’d like you to meet. He’ll be along shortly.”
Brad sipped his tea and squirmed nervously in his chair. His mind was racing almost as rapidly as his heartbeat. There was a foreboding sense of dread cloaking his consciousness. A man approached and Brad recognized him instantly. “Dillon? What the hell are YOU doing here.”
Andrew smiled and shook his head. “This isn’t Dillon, Brad. I’d like you to meet Vincent. He’s another spirit guide.”
Vincent took a seat next to Brad, a steely smile on his face. “You DO remember me, don’t you Brad? I’m sure you remember Brandy to.”
Brad was speechless for a moment. “Jesus! What in the hell’s happening? Brandy’s here to?”
“No, Brandy’s occupied elsewhere at the moment, but I’m sure she’d enjoy seeing you again.”
“Good gawd! We’ve DONE it!” Andy leaned back in his chair and smiled broadly.
Dillon jumped as if he’d been poked with a cattle prod. “Dammit man, you scared the dickens out’a me! So what is it we’ve done?”
Andy was beaming. “We’ve officially got a sell-out for the show, my friend.”
“What? Get out’a town! You mean we’re sold out already?”
“We’re sold out. Three days and we’ve sold every ticket in the house! It doesn’t get any better than this!”
Dillon leaped out of his chair. “I’ve gotta let the girls know. They’re gonna positively shit a wheatie.” He disappeared into the gym. Moments later the sounds of elation filled the air.
With less than two weeks before the show was scheduled to occur, the work-out schedule at the gym intensified. Velvet, Katrina, Shilo and Bridgette all knew how grueling their match was going to be and all of them wanted to be the ones with their hands raised in victory. Despite their friendship, there was a strong sense of competition. Every detail had been reviewed more than once. Dillon and Andy finalized the show's preparation and the women had been featured guests on several local radio talk shows as well as a television appearance. Dillon was so pleased that he offered to buy the entire organization dinner at Magellan’s Dinner House, a posh but delightfully casual eatery on the river front.
The night before the show they all met together and enjoyed a wonderful meal as well as plenty of friendly conversation and good-natured banter. Dillon raised his glass and made a toast. “Here’s to each and every one of you, my friends. Everyone’s done an incredible job of making this what’s gonna be the best show to date for the NAWWA! I love all of ya, one in particular!” He leaned over and gave Shilo a long, passionate kiss.
It was late evening when Dillon and Shilo returned to their apartment. She was barely able to stay awake, yet she was a bundle of nerves. Dillon smiled as he lay down next to her. “I’d pounce on you and make love to you until dawn, but I don’t want ya goin’ to sleep in the middle of everything!” He teased.
“M’mmmmm, as much as I’d love for you to, can we keep that thought until after the show baby?”
“You’ve got a deal!” They drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms.
The ringing of the phone roused Dillon from a sound sleep. He opened his eyes and squinted as the mornng sun shined in his eyes. He answered with a sleepy voice. “Yea, what?”
“You’re NOT gonna believe this!” It was Andy.
“You woke me out’ve a dead sleep to tell me that?”
“Pull your pants on and come’n on down to the diner. I’ll buy breakfast.”
“That’d be the LEAST you could do. See ya in a few.”
Dillon hurriedly dressed, wrote a note to Shilo explaining where he’d gone and hurried out the door. Traffic was heavy at this hour of the morning and Dillon cursed as he inched his way through the sea of vehicles. Andy was impatiently waiting as he entered the diner. “Okay Mr. Early Bird. What the hell’s so important it couldn’t wait?”
Andy peered intently at his friend. “Ever have something happen that you swore was real but just KNEW it couldn’t be?”
Dillon grinned wryly. “Sure do. It’s happening right this god damn minute!”
“Piss on you! You want me to tell you, or not?”
“Something tells me it’s not gonna matter how I answer, you’re gonna tell me anyway.”
“Damn sure am! I stopped by Heidi’s on my way home last night.”
Dillon interrupted. “Damn! You FINALLY got a piece of ass? Well, no wonder you’re so fuck’n excited.”
Andy stared up at the ceiling, struggling to summon up his patience. “You need a job at the Laugh Factory, asshole. You’re a regular fucking comedian! Now. You gonna be silent long enough for me to tell ya what happened?”
“Sorry, it’s just my sparkling wit shining through.”
Andy ignored his comment and continued. “Heidi had to catch an early flight down to LA this morning, so I drove her to the airport. I dropped her off and decided to stop for coffee. For some reason I decided to take a different route to the diner. Here’s where it gets weird.”
“Okay . . . weird as in how?”
“I saw Brad walkin’ down the street. Right there plain as day!”
“You saw Brad? Don’t you mean you saw someone that LOOKED like Brad?”
“Plain as day. It WAS Brad!”
“You do realize Brad’s dead?”
“Hell yes, I do. But it was Brad. And there’s more. I damn near wrecked the car when I saw him. And I talked to him.”
“Oh! So you not only saw him, you talked to him to?”
“Yup. And then he disappeared. Just flat disappeared.”
