The Manta Ray and The Underground Engineer

The Manta Ray

July 22nd, 2023

Creak

A door opening.

“I was surprised to hear from you.”

“Sure.”

Click

The light turns on to show Steve Harrison walking into an office with Sandy Reed-Lawson, The Octopus’s Manta Ray. The wife of JD Lawson smiles at Steve’s response as his sarcasm is something she almost missed. Their shared history goes back a long time but since he had escaped The Pit, he had been able to distance himself from her. One small interaction on New Years Eve during his introduction to The Octopus was the only thing they have shared in several years. Her ‘profession’ was a psychologist. To say the least it was not our hero’s favorite type of person.

“I almost missed that,” She mused as she strolled past the statue that Steve had become after he entered the office.

Harrison blinked at her comment. He seemed to have gotten caught up on remembering the office he had stepped back into. Hours of talk about his father occurred here for a few years after he woke from his coma. It was not a place that The Miracle Man enjoyed. Sandy sat down and stared at Steve, “are you ok?”

His shoulders slumped and he let out a long sigh. He slowly walked over to the old chair that in the past he often had found himself fidgeting in and sat down. “Just remembering how much I hate this place. Also, do us both a favor and don’t play dumb about being surprised to hear from me.”

“Oh?” It had begun. Sandy smiles and begins to slowly tap her right index finger on the desk in front of her.

Harrison rolls his eyes, “something about dealing with my anxiety with having to find Ellis, right? Heh, what is it that you…sorry…what is it that The Octopus wants to know?”

She nods, “sure, sure. We can talk about that but what about how you are dealing with losing your title?”

Steve grinds his teeth.

She continues, “How about how you feel about Rebecca being in a coma?”

Harrison grinds louder, as if a sword is being sharpened for battle.

Sandy in all her glory continues, “or…about what Ellis stole from your safe?”

Freeze.

She stares at Harrison waiting for a response. He has stopped grinding his teeth and is now staring at the ceiling fan that is slowly moving. He chuckles and then moves his head quickly back down and he looks directly into Sandy’s eyes. “That’s what you NEED to know, huh?”

“Excuse me?”

Harrison waves his hand towards her, “you do not care about how I feel or the nonsense, I am constantly bombarded with. Nope…you were told to find out about the safe.”

“Well…”

Steve cuts her off, “no, Sandy. I want to talk about how naked I am without my title. I want you to tell me how to move on from the title I made sparkle again. Instead, I must deal with the fact I never successfully defended it and that it is now in the hands of those downlow scumbags that think they run the entire wrestling industry. It is very…well where are we right now, Sandy?”

“Chicago?”

He leans forward with an odd grin, “bingo, Sandy…VERY. FUCKING. CHICAGO.”

Sandy moves backwards to avoid the spittle that flies from the heated Harrison’s mouth. “You did a real good job with cleaning the title.”

“Shut up,” he replies with a grunt not pleased with that comeback.

She ignores Steve as that was exactly the reply she wanted. “Or…you could find those balls you seem to have lost and win The Almasy.”

Silence.

Harrison crosses his legs and leans back in his chair again, “oh?” She nods slowly back to Steve with a puzzled look on her face. She is doing what she always does and tries to read his face. Instead, it is The Immortal Jellyfish that says, “let’s talk about this farce of an office instead.”

Sandy watches as Steve wipes his finger across the table and the dust that didn’t fly away coats his left index finger.  “I have been working out of…”

He interrupts, “…your other office? Sure, of course. I am aware you have an ‘office,’ (air quotes) in any city I work or live in. Did JD tell you to do that? Hmm…no, I am sure it was HER. I bet if I looked at your work calendar it would just have yoga written in it. Must keep yourself busy when you are only trusted as someone to pass along information. Your Octopus tentacle has already been fried and served as calamari to some white trash peons having their anniversary dinner at Red Lobster.”

Sandy crosses her arms as she attempts to defend the insults coming for her soul. “Let’s say everything you said was right…what’s your point?”

“Huh?”

“We all accept our roles with passion, child. I am here to not only help The Octopus but to help you as well. If you want to play games and try to take your confused feelings about your mom out on me then so be it. But do not expect to get what you want out of this,” Sandy finishes with a serious tone.

Harrison stands up from the chair. “What is it I want?” he leans into Sandy, their faces about a foot apart from each other.

Hush follows again, the ticking of the desk clock counting down for Sandy to respond. She clears her throat, “for her to tell you that she is proud of you and that she loves you.” She moved as far back in her chair.  It was now against the wall, just in case, he didn’t take that well.

Steve Harrison stands in front of the desk now with his face becoming redder and redder by the second.

He turns his head from Sandy and begins to wipe his forehead. His beautiful bald head that makes all the women swoon begins to show drops of sweat.

“I…I…,” Harrison stutters because he was not mad at that moment but tremendously embarrassed.

Sandy takes note of it right away and makes herself comfortable in her chair as she moves back up to her desk. She stares at his back and begins to smirk at her fatality victory of his brain. “This would be cute if I didn’t hear about all the information brokers you beat up a few weeks ago.”

The Miracle Man calms himself down and finally turns around, “this is exhausting, Sandy. I am not going to talk about HER with you right now…”

She pounced, “right now--so there will be a time later?”

He shakes his head, the embarrassment still there but underneath that, deep within his eyes was a raging river of anger, “I see I wasted my time coming here. Tell your husband this is the last favor I am doing for him if I don’t get something in return.” He turns and begins to walk towards the door.

Sandy, done with poking the Jellyfish finally relents, “I do have some info I can share about Ellis though.”

“What is it?” Harrison had stopped with his hand on the doorknob but did not turn around to look at her. This was a last chance and if it did not pass the sniff test he was ready to leave.

Ding

“Check your phone, I just sent you an address. He met with him recently,” Sandy says as she crosses her arms and stares at the back of his head.

Steve looks at his phone and then turns the knob on the door. He opens it a little bit and then turns his head to the side, “I have no idea what is in the lock box Rebecca gave me. I put it in the safe and we were supposed to open it after all the issues I was dealing with had been solved. Of course, as we all know none of that went the way we were expecting.”

“Thanks, The Octopus just does not want secrets. I am sure you understand. Good luck in your match though, we are all rooting for your success.”

He grumbles and walks out of the office.

--

Everything is STILL fine.

I am sure Comrade Pineapple feels the same way. Both of us have our own issues to deal with and both have family at the heart of it.

That is where it ends, Bryan.

I am sure when someone takes the shackles off your brain then you can break free of Max Kael’s influence. It is funny to me because why is anyone surprised by what Max Kael does? It is like being surprised that a rabid animal would attack someone. Are you all so far up your own asses that you cannot see the obvious?

I despise admitting my weakness. It is a weakness that in the back of my head I know will never heal. It is at the heart of every decision I make, and all done subconsciously.

Sandy took one sentence and used it to cut my throat. It was not blood that came forward though, it was bile. Embarrassment becomes anger because I…well…nobody likes someone pinpointing so easily what you truly desire.

I wish you luck in having a family reunion, Bryan. Don’t expect it to be easy though because unlike ME, you did this to yourself. YOU made the decision to trust Max, YOU made the decision to join The Red Army, and YOU made the decision to turn on your friend.

HOW is it working out for you, Brah?

Joining The Red Army was supposed to help you climb the ladder and get the Alias Title back.

Instead, you failed…

…And failed…

…And failed…

…And…you get it.

Once upon a time you defeated me, so I suppose I am also a fai…haha nah, gotcha. Your biggest accomplishments were all before you sold whatever Max left of your soul and you joined The Red Army.

That should give you pause.

You literally made multiple decisions that made your life and career worse.

That’s a beat, you moron.

You never cared about anyone else when you decided you were above others, so do not look for anyone to forgive you or give you a shred of understanding. If anything, you are the poster child for up-and-coming wrestlers on the dangers of unfounded arrogance.

As much as I wanted to continue to embrace being Ol’ Banditsbane do not think for one second I did not see your name in the same part of the bracket as me. I may have bitten my lip and rubbed my hands together as I imagined comparing your neck to Nate Colton’s with Flambo.

I am afraid your spine would be too yellow to show in public though.

This is my chance to get you back because unbelievably that loss to you has haunted me.

I will grasp this shot, and I will leave you apologizing to Ivan because yet again…you will fail.

See you in Chicago and be happy, because most people who come to Chicago leave without their sight…

…I just want your neck.

--

The Roach Hunt Begins.

A high tone reverberated in my ears. I walked right to the passenger side door of my rental car and blinked when I saw my reflection looking back at me.

‘That is me, huh,’ I thought to myself. I rubbed my ears in hopes of extinguishing this noise that was making my brain melt. Seconds later the window of the car was lowered, and I saw Jack Marley leaning towards the window giving me a puzzled look.

“Uh…didn’t go well, mon?”

That was an understatement, but I did leave with some valuable information and an immediate target for questioning. “I suppose it was worth it,” I slowly said as I still fought with the noise.

I hopped…no I bungled over into the car seat looking as smooth as sandpaper. I typed the address into the car GPS and pointed at it, “let’s find that roach.”

Jack looked at me and nodded, “no worries, mon,” he pointed under his chair, “I got some protection.”

I sighed and leaned back in the car seat, “sure, whatever.”

I should have paid better attention.

--

The Underground Engineer.

♫Kick in the door.

SMASH

We journeyed outside of Chicago and into the suburbs of Naperville.  I spent very little time, from Jack parking the car to me kicking the door with the full force of my right foot. The wood wobbled and then snapped at the lock mechanism.

The door flew open.

“DON’T HURT ME!”

Standing in the hallway was a man with a bowl of cereal in his hand. He looked like the amalgamation of Ted Kaczynski and Bobby Dean. I know what you are thinking, but no I am not describing Fred Dick. His eyes were wild, his hair a mess, and his stomach did not need any more Captain Crunch inside it.

Suddenly, without any provocation, because I was just standing there trying to hold back a laugh, Jack Marley came busting in after me…

♫Waving the four-four.

…With a gun.

He waved it around like a maniac and the next thing I saw was the cereal fall from his hands and sugary milk splattered towards my shoes.

♫All you heard was beautiful bald man, don't hit me no more

Yep.

Another black out fight session occurred because this man who is on every no-fly list just spilled one drop of milk on my shoes. At least that was what I was expecting, instead the dude fell to the ground and curled up like a pill bug. I stopped dead in my tracks and began to chuckle loudly enough that Jack stopped acting like a coke head from a Tarantino movie.

“Put that away…better yet where the hell did you get a gun?” I said as I stared confusingly at Jack. “Nevermind, we can deal with that later. Hey, idiot…we are not going to hurt you.”

He uncurled himself and looked up at me and then squinted his eyes, “Steve Harrison?”

“Uh…yea.”

He frantically got to his feet and awkwardly grabbed my hand and started vigorously shaking it. “Oh, man…HUGE fan.”

Jack and I both exchanged looks like we both thought we were playing a joke on each other. Neither of us moved though so I figured this guy was for real. “I assume you enjoy a Pit?”

He looked confuzzled, “I am not sure about that, but when are you bringing back The Miracle Milk?”

Oh?

OH NO!

He would not stop shaking my hand, I looked in his eyes. They were swimming in water and would not stay still. I was getting dizzy just being around this guy. “LET GO!”

That did the trick.

He took a step back and smiled with all teeth at me. “So, The Miracle Milk huh? You aren’t a wrestling fan or swim like an Octopus?”

His eyes somehow, beyond human imagination, got bigger in delight at talking to me. “The nights I spent drinking Miracle Milk and creating my amazing feats of engineering are memories I will never forget.”

“I doubt this dude forgets anything, mon,” Jack whispered to me.

My eyebrow raised, “well, um…hmmm…glad to know the Milk helped you make…” I shrugged at the guy not knowing how to finish my own sentence since I had no idea what this guy was talking about.

His smile gained more teeth somehow, “bombs---mostly.”

Ah yes, mostly…WHAT?

Jack points at the gun he put away at his hip holster. I shook my head and then looked back at this manic fanboy who had not taken his eyes off me. “That’s not something you should normally share with someone you just met.”

He took a step back towards me, “but I felt like I have known you for years.”

I put my hands up and looked down at him and softly pushed him backwards. Of course, being bigger than him, he stumbled backwards and into his cereal bowl. He signed and looked at the wet spot on his carpet from the milk. “This milk just isn’t good enough. It doesn’t give me the energy, the brain power, and the animalistic instincts to create such wonderous killing devices. Ones that Ellis would grin at me about and give me compliments for.”

“Huh?”

He stood up slowly and wiped his pants down. “He said you might come by, and I couldn’t stop smiling. He used to bring me Miracle Milk whenever he was in town and needed my advice or had a job for me.”

I took two big steps and lunged at this guy. I grabbed his shoulders and lift him up, “explain how you know Ellis,” I dropped him back down.

“Show me your elbows, mon,” Jack said sounding oddly calm.

Instead, I grabbed both of his arms and bent his arms back, so his elbows were pointed at us. On the left elbow a small tattoo that looked like an Octopus’s suction cup. I looked at Jack, “is there something I don’t know?”

Jack laughed, “boss mon, I don’t even know how I knew that, but I know that is something Octopus subordinates have.”

I didn’t have time to question that odd response, “so this guy ignored my question earlier to just ramble on about the milk?”

Jack nodded.

I turned immediately back to this fanatic, “I know you want to tell me why Ellis came by, right?”

He nodded enthusiastically, “oh yes, anything for…well wait…we can do a trade, maybe?”

Ugh.

Yep, I knew exactly what he was going to ask for. “What?”

He began to tap his right-hand fingers to his left-hand in a nervous way a child going through puberty does when they talk to their crush. “You know if you cannot make the Milk anymore…maybe you could give me the recipe, for only me of course. I would not try to make money off your creation. We have respect for each other in the underground engineering community.”

“Fine, whatever, just tell me about Ellis.”

“He came with a lockbox that he wanted X-Rayed because in OUR line of business, people often times make it so if someone tries to break into a safe or in the case, the lockbox, the contents will go up in smoke.”

“Up in smoke?”

He smiled, “this was quite a nasty looking one too. I believe, if he had tried opening it without the key not only would the contents have gone up in smoke but probably whatever arm he was holding it with would be gone too.”

I took a breath and tried to take in everything he was saying. “Ok, wait…take a breath. The lockbox he brought can only be opened with the key or it will explode?”

“Bingo. I take a lot of pride in my work, but I knew exactly who created this when I saw what was inside. That PERSON loves to include a personalized letter inside. I have never heard of anyone ever reading it though…who was not supposed to, at least.”

I felt like I was melting after I began to understand everything because if what everything he was saying was right, “He needs the key then?”

“Yep.”

I did not have the key.

I had never seen a key.

Rebecca never mentioned a key.

There was no way it at the Hospital though. I had gone through all her belongings and there was nothing around her neck.

“We have to go, Jack,” I said as serenely as I could muster in the moment.

Jack shook his head and then looked at the Underground Engineer, “who created the lockbox, mon?”

Oh.

Good question.

That is even stranger, right?

“I only have a codename and believe it or not---a pager number.”

“Write it down,” I put my hand out as I tapped my foot becoming more and more anxious.

“Recipe, first.”

I sighed, “It is in the car. Jack, you stay here.”

I headed to the car to where my phone was. I had left it in the car, but it had my Milk recipe on it in a folder I never thought I would open again. I whipped my phone and sent the recipe to Jack with a note to get the info from him and meet me outside. I was not going back into the place.

“👍”

And I waited.

And waited.

He finally came running out shaking a piece of paper in his hand. Jack got into the car and smiled, “only thing left to do now is win your match!”

I nodded and we headed out.

I completely forgot to ask why it had taken him so long.

But I had another lead.

First, I would take care of Dawkins and continue my run in the Almasy.

Trust me, when I drove off, I felt as if I was on someone else’s chessboard.

But what piece was I?