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  What a joke the fans were. He had fought Murphy on their behalf, but what thanks did he get? He got to travel every night, while Murphy watched football. He got to miss out on his son's baseball games, while Murphy relaxed at home. Maybe he had tried too hard to please the fans. Then again, he wondered why he was trying to please them in the first place. They didn't give a damn when he was knocked out on the floor. All they did was chant louder for Randy and Rocky. The only time they cheered for Marc was when he lost control and started swinging the chair at everyone in sight.

  The fans are nothing but hypocrites. They root for the good guy, but crave violence and blood. Maybe he needed to manipulate them to his advantage like Murphy had. Then again, he didn't want to be anything like Murphy. He didn't need to manipulate the fans. In fact, he didn't need them at all. He wasn't sure what the cause of his funk had been, but he'd make sure it didn't happen again. There was no way that he was returning to that dark place that he had been. From now on, he was doing what was best for Marc Fleming.

  ***************

  Alexis was awoken by the smell of bacon filling the expansive house. As her eyes adjusted to the new day, Marc and Kyle entered the bedroom with her breakfast. Marc was carrying the tray complete with bacon, eggs, and biscuits with gravy. Kyle brought the pitcher of orange juice. Alexis smiled as she recognized that they had gone to great lengths to mimic first class room service. Although his hair was disheveled, she was impressed that Kyle was up and dressed so early. Marc was already showered and ready for the day. Unbeknown to her, Marc had decided it was best to shower before she woke to get rid of any hint of Colleen's perfume or any other traces of the night before. He had hidden his clothes from the previous night at the bottom of the trash before taking it to be burned. He had thought about starting the washing machine to wash any evidence away, but Alexis would recognize that something was up. Marc never helped with laundry.

  "Good morning beautiful," Marc said as he set the tray across her lap and kissed her forehead.

  "Good morning," she said. "You two look handsome this morning. What do I owe this for this pleasure?"

  "It's a new day. New beginnings. Now hurry up and eat. We got a big day ahead of us."

  "Big day?"

  "We're gonna load up the horses and spend the day riding at Oconee."

  Alexis Sat up. "Really?" she asked as excited as Kyle on Christmas morning. "Don't you have a match in Savannah tonight?"

  "I was supposed to, but I'm not going?"

  "What? Are you quitting? Did you call that Kent guy?"

  "No, I'm going to stop by the doctor's office and get a note for Hensley." I'll tell him I'm having dizzy spells or something. "

  Alexis discovered the bruise on his forehead. "Oh my god, what happened? Are you ok?"

  "I met the hardwood floor of the gymnasium last night. I'll be ok. I'm not going to let it spoil our day."

  "Do you think Hensley will be mad?"

  "I'm not worried about Hensley. He won’t doubt the doctor after he gets a look at this kisser. Besides, he won't have much of a choice anymore after I win the championship back. I'm going to use the title for leverage. From now on, I'm calling the shots."

  "But, what…?

  "If I lose, I'll give Kent a call," he answered. He may not offer me the same deal he was promising you, but I think I could negotiate a decent deal if I play my cards right. He's hurting for talent. He needs somebody to come in and spike houses. I could pretty much call my own shots. It doesn't matter, though. I'm not going to lose. One way or another, I'm going to give you and Kyle everything you deserve. I promise you, baby, I promise."

  Chapter Thirteen

  Marc stared at his reflection in the mirror of his dressing room of the Brighton City Arena. He had foregone his usual morning routine of jogging, showering, and shaving in lieu of sleeping a few extra hours since it was so late when he finished putting the horses up after riding trails until after sunset with Alexis and Kyle. He wasn't used to the stubble, but he thought he might let it grow out. Although it was unintended, the five o'clock shadow added a bit of attitude to his look. It was just the look he was searching for. He had dressed in his long tights instead of the normal tights that fans were accustomed to seeing him in. There was nothing special or flashy about them. Black instead of maroon. No lightning bolt or other emblem. No nonsense.

  Marc used a surgical bandage to cover the injury to his head. The swelling had gone down, but it left a nasty bruise that descended toward his eye. The bandage covered most of the bruise, but he was unable to hide the black eye that had formed. He laughed to himself as he put on his sunglasses he used to shield the blinding spotlight of his entrance. There was no way to go to war and escape battle scars.

  Dr. Warren had told him that he didn't think he should wrestle for a few weeks. He told him that he had a concussion and would be risking his life if he didn't give himself time to recover. Marc told him that he didn't have the option to sit on his ass. He told the doc to write the note to cover his time that he spent with Alexis and Kyle, but to make sure that it said that he was good to go for Wednesday's match. He couldn't afford for the match to be cancelled. He had finally reached a point where he was taking control of his life and career. There couldn't be any setbacks.

  The Brighton City Arena was large enough to accommodate private dressing rooms for most of the wrestlers. Marc embraced the solitude, but grew bored as he waited for his match. It wouldn't take him long to dispose of Predator. He just wished the other matches would hurry up and finish so he could get it over with.

  Stepping out of the dressing room to get a break from his own thoughts, he walked to the edge of the alley leading to the ring to see which match was taking place. Stu was wrestling Dangerous Dan in their number one contender match. At the moment, it looked like Dan was getting the better of Stu. Marc smirked. He didn't like Dan, but Stu had rubbed him the wrong way when he said he'd rather wrestle Marc than Predator. The fans seemed to really be behind Stu, but he was just another obnoxious, punk kid to Marc. "Another reason to not give a damn what the fans think," Marc thought to himself.

  Marc didn't care who won the match, but he figured watching it would help pass the time. There would be one more match afterwards, and then it would be time for his match against Predator. He had to give Stu credit. He wouldn't let Dan keep him down. Dan looked to become flustered as Stu repeatedly kicked out before the three count. Predictably, Johnny Handsome jumped on the ring apron to distract the referee. Marc had seen it happen what seemed like hundreds of times to himself and other wrestlers. Unable to win fairly, Handsome would climb onto the ring apron to distract the referee, while his goon used a chain, brass knucks, powder, or some other foreign object to knock out his opponent.

  Seizing the opportunity to take Handsome out of the equation of his match with Predator, Marc ran to ringside. Handsome's face hit the edge of the mat when Marc pulled his feet out from under him. Even though he was only semi-conscious afterwards, the look of shock was clearly visible on Handsome's face as Marc turned him around to deliver a fist to the jaw. Handsome's lights went out after the first blow. Marc held his limp body and delivered two more punches to the weasel's jaw. He intended to make good on his promise of breaking his jaw. Throwing him to the floor, Marc delivered several kicks and stomps to his limp body for good measure.

  Turning his attention from Stu to try and help his fallen manager, Dangerous Dan reached through the ropes to grab at Marc. Yanking on Marc's hair, he did his best to pull Marc into the ring. Suddenly, he lost his grasp as he was rolled backwards onto the mat. The referee counted to three. The match was over. Handsome's attempted distraction had backfired. Stu was now the number one contender to the Central States Championship. Marc looked at his handiwork. Handsome was down. Dangerous Dan was beside himself, arguing with the referee. Stu was jubilant in the ring. He hadn't intended to affect the outcome of the match. He just wanted to take Handsome out of the picture of his match. "Mission succe
eded," he thought to himself as he walked back to his dressing room.

  ***************

  Marc watched the next match from the alley. Randy and Rocky were wrestling in a six man tag match against Johnny Turbo and Kevin Hudson. Johnny Eagle and Little War Dog, two midget wrestlers, were their partners. Personally, Marc thought the match should have gone on earlier, but he wasn't the promoter. He was just glad he wasn't in the match. If Hensley tried to book him in a match like that, he'd walk out. He was better than that. There was no need to worry about it, though. After tonight, he'd be calling his own shots.

  "Thanks for the help out there," Stu said approaching Marc. "I owe you one."

  "No, man, we're good. Don't worry about it."

  "Don't worry about it? Are you crazy? There's no telling what might have happened out there if you hadn't showed up."

  "It was nothing."

  "Well, I got your back."

  "You got my back?"

  "I'll be keeping an eye out for you in your match. I'll make sure Handsome or nobody else interferes."

  "Listen, I don't want anyone interfering in my match. That includes you."

  "I understand, but…"

  "I don't think you do understand. I didn't come out there to help you. I came out there to get Handsome. In case you weren't aware of it, I got a loser leaves town match coming up in a few minutes after this damn midget comedy show finishes. I don't need any distractions. The best thing you can do is stay the hell away."

  "I'd take his advice if I were you, kid," Murphy advised as he approached.

  Stu stared at the two veterans before walking away. There was nothing left to say, or nothing he could say.

  "A little different look tonight," Murphy teased. The way you took care of Handsome brought back memories."

  "Yeah, the bastard had it coming."

  "Yeah, he did. Well, good luck on your match," Murphy half-heartedly wished him as he extended his hand.

  Marc shook his hand. "Good luck with Warren," Marc replied. "By the way, he said as Murphy walked away, I want the first title shot if you win."

  "Absolutely," Murphy answered closing the door to his dressing room.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Even with his sunglasses, the spotlight blinded Marc on his way to the ring. Clouds of smoke floated throughout the arena illuminated by the blinding light. He waved the smoke away from his path as he traveled to the ring by instinct. Fans screamed and reached out to touch him. He ignored them, focusing only on the route to the ring. Through the garbled screams, he recognized Colleen's voice. She blew him a kiss as he glanced in her direction. Marc smiled, but kept walking toward the ring. He'd enjoyed his night with her, but she was in love with the Magnificent Marc she saw on TV. She had no idea who Marc Fleming was. She was just another fan. He didn't have a place in his life for the fans any longer.

  Johnny Handsome wasn't with Predator. Marc's strategy had worked. He wouldn't have to worry about any distractions. He'd make short work of Predator and send him packing. Then, he'd finally take control of his career. Beating Predator was now just a formality.

  ***************

  By the ten minute mark, Predator had become flustered. Marc had countered his every move. It wasn't rocket science to fluster Predator as his arsenal consisted mainly of kicks and punches. It was his power that Marc had to avoid. Marc's strategy was to wear the big guy out by keeping him on the mat as much as he could. His strategy seemed like it was paying off. As he began grasping for breath, Marc began opening up his bag of high impact moves. He nailed him with drop kicks and a flying elbow. After a body slam, Marc covered him for an attempted pinfall. Looking up, he couldn't believe what he saw. Johnny Handsome was on the apron.

  Instead of making the count, the referee turned his attention to Handsome. Marc wasn't going to allow himself to be distracted. He had fallen for that trick too many times in the past. As the referee argued with Handsome, he pummeled Predator with closed fists to his masked face. Weakened and out of breath, Predator was defenseless. Handsome's interference wouldn't save him this time.

  As he continued to pummel Predator, Stu appeared at ringside wedging himself between the ref and Handsome. "Damn it," Marc muttered to himself. Releasing Predator, he stood in the ring contemplating disposing both Handsome and Stu. He had lived that that scenario too many times. While he became occupied with Handsome and Stu, Predator would load his mask while and then sneak up behind him and knock him out. "The hell with that," Marc thought. He didn't think Predator had the strength left to pull off the charade, but Marc wasn't going to give him the chance. Sooner or later, the ref would have to turn his attention back to the ring. Until then, he would continue to batter Predator. With everything he had done to Marc over the past few months, the bum deserved the beating he was receiving.

  Somehow during his struggle with Stu and the referee, Handsome managed to throw a chain into the ring. Misdirected, it landed in the middle of the mat, nowhere near Predator. Marc stared at the shiny, knotted steel and contemplated what he should do with it. Time stood still for a moment. The fans cheered him on, urging him to pick the chain up and us it on Predator. Marc winced at the thought of giving in to the fans. All these years that he had fought with honor for their idolatry, yet here they were wanting him to use a weapon on another wrestler. He despised their hypocrisy.

  He had never needed a foreign object to win a match, and he didn't need one now to beat Predator. Yet, he needed to make a statement. He needed to prove to the world that he would do whatever it takes to win. He needed to send a message to the fans, Hensley, Murphy, and all of the wrestlers in the back. Picking up the chain, he teased the fans for a moment that he was going to use it before throwing it into the crowd.

  As Predator slowly rose to his feet, Marc pulled out a pair of brass knucks from his tights. His vision clouded, the last thing Predator saw was a brass fist before his lights went out. Stuffing the knucks back into his tights, Marc grabbed the referee from his entanglement with Stu and Handsome, and covered the fallen Predator. The referee could have counted to one thousand, but stopped at three. Marc was the new Central States Heavyweight Champion.

  Marc snatched the belt from the ref's hand. He didn't need his hand raised to glorify himself to the fans. He had beaten the odds and done it all by himself. The fans could go to hell. As Stu entered the ring to congratulate the new champion, Marc exited through the ropes to the floor below. While Stu stood in the ring bewildered, Marc raised the belt in the air and sneered at him. Stu would be the first wrestler to meet the new and improved Magnificent Marc. He would make an example of him next week.

  As he walked back to the dressing room, he thought about hanging around for the Murphy-Warren match. He could definitely make a splash if he interfered and cost Murphy the title, but he wasn't ready to go to war with Murphy yet. He needed to fortify his empire first. Besides, Murphy didn't need any help losing to Warren. He had never won the title in the countless shots he had before. Why would tonight be any different?

  Marc knew that an eventual war with Murphy loomed on the horizon. Brighton had long been Murphy's kingdom. Now, it belonged to him. He was calling all the shots. Whether Hensley or anyone else liked it or not, changes were going to be made. As far as he was concerned, there wasn't a damn thing anyone could do about it. He was in charge. No longer would he be wrestling in mid-card matches. No longer was he a journeyman. He was the champ, the ruler of Brighton. Given enough time, he would rule the world.

  The End

  Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer. I realize that Journeyman wasn't for everyone. It was written for the few wrestling fans left that still remember "the way it used to be", while attempting to provide an entertaining story for non-wrestling fans. Your reviews and feedback will let me know if you enjoyed my work, or let me know where to improve as I develop future works. I truly appreciate your time.

  Thanks!


  Brad G. Moore

  About the Author

  I gained my love for reading at an early age when my older sister introduced me to Margret and H.A. Rey's classic character, Curious George. Although I am an avid mystery fan, my greatest influences as a writer are John D. Fitzgerald's The Great Brain, Keith Robertson's Henry Reed, and Beverly Cleary's Ramona. Introducing Serina K., Ph.D. and Future Famous Person and Serina K. and the Case of the Missing Recipe are based on the real adventures of my youngest daughter, Serina.

  Although I owe my love of reading and writing to my sister, I owe my love of rasslin to my brother. As he flipped through the channels one Saturday morning, he stopped to poke fun at the theatrics of the local wrestling program. While he scoffed at the program, I fell in love with the characters and storylines. I began a lifelong addiction that Saturday morning. As our local cable programming expanded, so did my interest in the sport as I gained access to new personalities from around the globe. Soon, I owned nearly every wrestling magazine on the market. Although clearly fictional, I enjoyed the stories that gave the characters life. It is in this spirit that I wrote Journeyman. It's still real to me too.

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  Introducing Serina K., Ph.D. and Future Famous Person

  Serina K. and the Case of the Missing Recipe

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