Good Women

Paxton’s Anger Journal

2/4/2024

My momma only beat me once but it’s stuck with me ever since.

Back when I was six I pushed a little girl down in the mud and told her I didn’t wanna play with no girls. I don’t even remember her name now. Maybe it was Molly. Could be Mary. Something with an M.

My momma pulled me inside, ripped my pants as she tore em off my ankles, and spanked me until I cried. She was cryin too. We held each other for a few minutes and she told me that she didn’t only beat me because I hurt the little girl, but because of my attitude. She told me she was a little girl once, and little girls grow into women, and one day I’m gonna need good women in my life.

Even through the tears I fought back. I told her girls were gross, boys were fun, and I was gonna be just fine without little Molly or Mary or whoever she was. Momma smiled and it made me stop cryin. She said one day I’d know she was right.

Well fine, momma, rest your soul. I finally admit it. I wish you were around, cause I need a good woman right now. I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do about Nora. 

_______

“Daddy, look what I made!”

Paxton held his phone out and squinted at the screen. For the first time in his 28 years he wondered if he needed glasses. What he was looking at – he thought – was a few dark red circles on a dark green piece of paper. He could make out two circles in black ink, maybe. “Oh it’s beautiful, baby. What…uh, what is it?”

“It’s you and that weird smiling man in the wrestling match you had!”

Paxton’s eyes widened. “Uh…they let ya watch that?”

“Yeah! It was pretty scary, but I felt a lot better when they told me you didn’t really get hurt. The red part is the fake blood that came out of you.”

“Oh, okay,” Paxton nodded, looking down at the cuts up and down his arms. “The fake blood, yeah. I remember ya used t'hate that I wrestled. I'm glad ya ain't so mad anymore, even though I'm not sure ya should be watchin' it."

"Well, I want to watch it because then I can see you."

Paxton covered his face with his hand and moved it upwards to temporarily clear his eyes. "That's sweet, baby. So, uh, who tol’ ya about it? Who watched with ya?”

“Miss Jenny. She’s our teacher here.”

Paxton scanned the screen to see the surroundings behind Nora. She was outside – there were a few kids running around behind her, and what looked like a baseball field that was being used for kickball. Paxton saw boys and girls of all ages, probably two dozen in all. He also saw something in the corner of the screen he couldn’t make out. “Well that’s nice. Hey, honey, can ya move the phone a little bit t’the right?”

“Like this?”

Paxton closed his eyes and attempted to suppress his smile. “Nah baby, the other way.”

Nora giggled and moved the phone in the other direction. Paxton laughed with her, but his face froze as he confirmed what he had thought he saw.

“What’s wrong, daddy?”

“Nothin’, baby, jus’ wanted to see the rest of your playground.”

“It’s really nice,” Nora said, then looked behind her. “You see the top of that big wall? It’s really cool! I never saw that stuff before until I saw your match. Do you think it’s the same stuff?”

Paxton sighed. “Yeah Nora. That’s barbed wire all right.”

_______

They say they ain’t gonna hurt her. They say that as long as I stay here in New Orleans and teach their little students that I can keep talkin to her and maybe even see her one day. And every time I talk to her she seems happy.

But it all feels wrong. Ain’t no reason to put barbed wire on a fuckin daycare. I worked with these assholes. I know what they did to Jon. I know what they did to Melissa. How long until they get tired of me losin and hurt me in the worst way they can?

I can’t keep doin this. I can’t just live on phone calls and FaceTimes for the rest of my life. And I can’t just stay at this gym while my wrestling career spins in circles. 

I need to do somethin. And I need help. And not just from anyone. 

I’m done askin men for help. 

_______

“So ya got any friends there?”

“Yeah, a few. Evie, and Bruce.”

Paxton frowned. “Bruce? How old is he, 60?”

“Dad! He’s seven!”

“Ain’t no seven year old named Bruce. Ya musta heard him wrong. He probably said he was named Aiden. That’s what all little boys are named now.” He waited for her to stop laughing. “So, last time ya said there were some kids ya didn’t like. Are ya still havin’ problems with em?”

“No, not really.”

“That’s goo–”

“Because they aren’t here anymore.”

Paxton stopped. “Whaddaya mean?”

“I don’t know. One day Billy was gone. Billy pushed me once, so I wasn’t sad when he left. Then Terry left too. There was one girl I liked named Lauren. She’s eleven. I haven’t seen her in a few days.”

“Do ya know where they go?”

Nora shook her head, then pointed behind her. “No. I saw Lauren go in the corner where the wall is highest.” Paxton followed her finger and saw, at the corner of the screen, some small figures moving quickly. It appeared to be a small child and two adults, but he couldn’t quite see enough because of how far away they were from Nora.

“What’s that–”

Paxton stopped talking as the phone suddenly started moving, flipping upside down for a moment before settling on a woman with blonde curly hair. “Nora has to go, Mr. Ray. We’ll let you know when she can talk again.”

“Wait–”

“Have a pleasant day!”

The call ended and Paxton sat in his chair, his phone hanging at the edge of his fingers. After a moment, Chet Fleetwood limped in and slapped Paxton on the shoulder, causing his phone to drop to the ground. “What up Paxy! I wanted to talk about how we’re going to pay that oaf back for powerbombing me. I hear he hates bears, so what I figure is a few hours before the show, we break into the Brooklyn Zoo and sneak out any bears they have – grizzly, panda, koala, all the stuffed bears from the gift shop – and bring them to the arena…” Chet stopped, looking down at Paxton’s blank stare. “You all right, buddy?”

“Nah, Chet. I ain’t.”

“Um…should I help? Maybe give you some award winning advice?”

Paxton stood up and walked past him. “Nah, this ain’t somethin’ ya can help with.”

_______

I been relyin on men since I got in this world. Jonathan Rhine, Foster Nackedy, now Julian Bathory and Chet fuckin’ Fleetwood. And they all got somethin in common.

They’re all users. 

Everybody uses me. I’m tall and I can fight so I’m a natural bodyguard. I had a friend in high school named Christian. That dude talked shit to everyone all the time, and he was barely over five feet tall so someone was bound to clean his clock. But nobody did. Know why? Because we were friends and he told everyone that if they wanted to get to him, they’d have to get through me first.

So I was the meatwall to an asshole, and it’s still happenin over a decade later. And I just let it happen because I don’t know what else to do.

I ain’t sayin only men use people. Shweta used me too. But at this point I’ve been punchin a wall so many times that my knuckles are smashed to pieces and the wall’s still there. So let’s try somethin else. 

_______

Paxton strode to the corner of the gym where, after a few months, he knew Petra would be.

“Ya really like boxin’, don’t ya?” he asked her as he grabbed the heavy bag and raised his hand to fend off a punch that never came.

“I like to hit things.”

Paxton grinned. “Every day we find more and more in common.”

“We are nothing alike," Petra answered with a frown. "I am German. You are American. I am a fighter. You are a lap dog.”

“All right, fighter, calm down. I wanted to talk t’ya ‘bout something.” The two walked over to a set of nearby chairs and sat down. “I was talkin’ t’Nora today on FaceTime.”

“That’s so generous that they let you see her in that compound.”

“Yeah.” Paxton scratched the back of his neck. “Whaddaya know ‘bout that place anyway?”

“Nothing. MESSIAH has countless strongholds all across this country and beyond. Could be anywhere. Could be anything.”

“Well wherever and whatever it is, I saw somethin’ today. They’re doin’ somethin’ with kids. I don’t know what it is, but it don’t look good.”

Petra nodded sadly. “Very little that happens in MESSIAH is good.”

“Ain’t that right.” Paxton stared at his student. “I’m gonna hafta do somethin’ ‘bout it.”

Petra’s eyes widened for a moment, then overcorrected into slits. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly. I can’t let my little girl be the next one dragged through that door.”

“Listen to me, Paxton. You cannot ‘do something’ about MESSIAH. There are too many members, too many places, too many…just too many. You are one man who punches other men in a wrestling ring. Trying to take on Julian Bathory and his enterprise is suicide. You used the word deadly, which is a very appropriate word in this case.” Petra reached out and grabbed his hand, causing him to look down at hers. “Nora will be safe. They will keep her safe and happy because you are here doing their work. If you go against that, you do more harm than good.”

“Well how much fuckin’ longer is that arrangement gonna last?” Paxton stood up, removing his hand from hers. “What does Bathory want from me? T’be a killer in PRIME. Well look at me, Petra, an’ tell me ya see a fuckin’ killer. Tell me ya don’t see a guy who’s fightin’ fuckin’ new guys an’ bein’ treated like a joke by his own Wargames team. I ain’t ever heard of this Harley Walker person, but apparently I’m now jus' a welcome mat since I couldn’t get my title back.”

Petra looked up at him. “What would you like from me, Paxton?”

Paxton stopped his rant to look down at her. “What?”

“Would you like me to be sensitive, supportive? Do you want me to hold your hand and say ‘oh no, big man Paxton Ray, you are not doing poorly in PRIME. You are a big strong guy and you will beat Harley Walker within an inch of his life! And then you will march into the middle of Utah or wherever your daughter is, steal her back, and live your life full of daisies and cupcakes!’? Is that what you want?”

Paxton snarled down at her. “I want my fuckin’ daughter back.”

Petra nodded, dropping her sarcasm. “I know. And unfortunately that is not something I can help you with. I mock you for being a lapdog, but I do not think there is a way you can escape your kennel any time soon. I am sorry.” She sighed. “I truly am.”

Paxton turned away and looked at the floor, then sighed. “Me too.” He started to walk away.

“Where are you going?”

“Gonna find somebody else to help.”

_______

Petra was right about MESSIAH of course.

They’re big, they’re powerful, and most importantly they’re a mystery. You ain’t got any idea where they’re hiding, what they’re planning, or what you can do about it.

The mystery is the hardest part. It’s hard to do anything when you don’t know what to expect.

It’s kinda like this match against Walker. Yeah, you can read a man’s bio and find out a few things, like his age or a slice of his life story. But you don’t know shit about him until he gets in the ring. He can be watchin film of me right now: my matches, my promos, my time on camera on shows. He gets to see my mind at work, my manager’s weird tendencies, whether I shift off my left or right foot when I punch.

All I got on him is a nickname. That puts things firmly in Lightning Boy’s favor.

But even when it feels hopeless, I can’t just do nothin.

A couple days ago I was sittin’ in traffic, tryin to get to the gym to run a class. I left a few minutes before I should’ve, because bein on time is important. But the world had other ideas. It’s Mardi Gras here, and some fuckin parade thought it was a great idea to send all 50 of their floats across traffic at 8:30 in the mornin. I ended up late to the class and had to hear Bertie talk about fuckin responsibility and all that other dumb shit.

But while I was sittin in my car I was screamin, hollerin, bangin against the steering wheel. And I actually felt the anger inside the car with me. It was thick and suffocating. The windows were up so it had nowhere to go. But when I put my windows down, it felt like the anger went somewhere. Out into the air, into the trees, who fuckin knows. But it wasn’t stranglin me anymore.

This anger I got about Nora? It’s just sittin with me right now. And no matter how right Petra is, I can’t let it strangle me. I gotta do somethin about it.

Petra ain't the only good woman in my life.

_______

Julie Dunn saw him out of the corner of her eye as she exited the hospital and walked to her car. “You have my phone number, you know.”

Paxton shrugged and followed her in the parking lot. “I prefer this way. I get a little jolt when I see you walk out.”

In spite of herself the nurse smiled. “That’s just brain chemistry. Something in your temporal lobe must like the way my face looks.”

“It’s ain’t jus’ the temperature lobe or whatever ya jus’ said.”

“What do you want, Paxton? We haven’t really talked since Chicago. And…” Julie’s smile dropped. “I heard a lot about what happened. Who has the gym and who…who you’re working with now.”

“Ya mean the guy who visited us in the hotel?”

“No, not him, the wo…” she stopped suddenly, then shook her head. “Yeah, him, the scary guy. I know he said I wasn’t good for you. I just figured you didn’t want my influence in your life anymore.”

Paxton reached out and grabbed her hand. She stopped walking and looked down at it. “I need that influence,” he said. “Now more than ever.” And he told her about his talk with Nora and what he saw. As he did, he took in her horrified expression. “I don’t know what to do. Maybe I shouldn’t even do nothin’, I dunno.”

“Are you serious?” Julie asked, her mouth open. “Paxton, I know you’ve worked with these people and you’ve done some bad things, but…this is human trafficking. This is a whole different level of evil. You can’t just ignore it. Even if they keep Nora safe, what about those other children?”

“I know. I...” Paxton stopped because he saw tears start to drop from Julie’s eyes. “Hey, ya okay?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just…” Julie wiped at her tears, trying fruitlessly to halt them at the source. “When I was at Children’s Hospital, I saw so many terrible things. Obviously Nora, but there were also little kids who…they had people like that scary man prey on them. They were physically injured, yes, but the mental toll it took on them…” She trailed off as they reached her car. Paxton put his arm around her and drew her into him as they leaned against the car. “No kid deserves that. And to know that most of them have parents who are as trapped as you are…there are so many hurt people here. We can’t leave them there.”

“You’re right. But…what do we do? What can we even fuckin’ do?”

As the tears slowed, Julie Dunn looked up slowly. “I think I know who you have to talk to.”

_______

Julie and Petra are special, each in their own way.

Petra is so strong, so fierce, so independent. I heard Bertie talkin about settin up a contract for her in MVW, and her gave her the nickname “Feuer,” which is apparently the German word for fire. It fits as well as any nickname I ever heard. And even though she don’t ever talk about herself or her past, I want to know more. She’s as mysterious as MESSIAH is.

Julie is different. She’s strong, but in a different way. A vulnerable way, something that draws me in. I wanna help her. I wanna be helped by her. And she’s smart, which is somethin I ain’t really used to. Had to look up what a lobe is.

This situation feels so helpless, and Petra seems to agree. But Julie doesn’t. She thinks we can do somethin. And I ain’t really tryin to compare the good women in my life, but I’m gonna go with the one who thinks this story ends with Nora in my arms once again. 

But her methods might end up killin me.

_______

“I ain’t doin’ this shit. Ya can’t make me.”

“I’m not making you do anything, Paxton. But if you want to do something about this, you need help. And from what I understand, she can help you.”

Paxton looked at the door they were standing in front of and shook his head. “She won’t help me. She hates me.”

“I hated you for a little while too. It’s surprisingly easy to cure,” Julie said, giggling and reaching over to squeeze Paxton's hand. “I promise you, if you give all the details and tell her everything you told me, she will at least listen. And that’s better than working with the devil and wondering when Nora’s the next kid up, isn’t it?”

Paxton looked at Julie, then closed his eyes and sighed. “All right, let’s get this over with.” He opened the door and walked in, then looked down on the woman sitting at the desk in front of him.

She looked at him for several long moments before raising her eyebrows.

“You have three minutes to explain,” Shweta Kallemullah said.

_______

I used to think all I needed in this world was my anger. It was all I had, and it got me pretty far.

And it’s still there, swirling around me, threatenin to strangle me at any opportunity. 

But there’s somethin else there, given to me by a good woman.

There’s hope.

And if I can direct that anger somewhere healthy, like at a failed stuntman tryin to come into PRIME to take my spot and make me dispensable to MESSIAH, then I’m gonna do it. 

As long as MESSIAH thinks I’m valuable, then Nora is safe. And while she’s safe, we can work to get her back. So that means Harley Walker is in a lot of trouble.

And eventually, down the line…MESSIAH’s in trouble too.