The Splinter

Julie Dunn had been showing her face less frequently at the 9th Ward warehouse where Shweta ran her operations. She claimed it was because of work, and her dog having some health issues, but those weren’t the real reasons.

Ever since Paxton had fought her father, she couldn’t settle her feelings for him. She felt love and appreciation that he would protect her. But she also felt fear that the man she cared for shared a bit too much in common with her dad. That fear was compounded any time she would visit the warehouse and do physical therapy with the person Paxton paralyzed.

She also felt nervous that Paxton had accepted her hesitancy so willingly. She said she wasn’t ready to pursue anything physical and he nodded and walked away. She knew it was somewhat hypocritical since she was setting the boundaries, but to Julie it felt like it was a little too easy for him to move on.

She felt these feelings, yet she found herself walking into the warehouse early on a Saturday morning. Shweta wanted everyone there to discuss the latest update in the Fight for Nora. That name, she thought to herself as she ducked under the wooden planks covering the entrance. She wasn’t even a wrestling fan and she felt the name had been tainted and shouldn’t be used. And why did the operation need a name?

“Ouch,” she yelped as a piece of wood stuck in her arm; she had brushed too close to the rotting door frame. Trying to locate and extract the splinter, she muttered curses and continued walking towards the meeting room.

“Bad start already,” she said as she looked up at the people in the meeting room: Shweta, Jonathan, Paxton’s former manager with the weird helmet, and his brother who Julie had met twice before.

“I’d say,” Shweta answered, looking past Julie. “Have you heard from Paxton?”

“Not in a few weeks,” Julie said, her face growing flush. “He hasn’t shown up?”

“No.”

“He’s probably just moping,” Foster said, grinning. “Losing back to back matches probably has him curled up in bed crying his eyes out.”

“That doesn’t sound like him,” Julie said with a laugh.

“Neither does missing meetings about his daughter.” Shweta shook her head, looking at the entranceway. “He better have a good reason.”

_______

Entry: 13 Sept. 2024

Still writing in English to practice language. Practicing metaphors in English too.

Men are puzzles. But not puzzles with thousand pieces. They are like puzzles for kinder, ten pieces at most. Obvious edges that fit together. There is little mystery with man, and the stupider the man, the fewer the puzzle pieces.

Solving the Paxton Ray puzzle is the easiest puzzle of all.

_______

Paxton reached out in his sleep and found nothing. It was the nothing that stirred him, and he opened his eyes to see an empty spot next to him on the bed. Rolling around, he scanned the room, taking in everything: dark red walls; a simple wooden dresser with old, rusty knobs; a speedbag hung in the corner.

“She loves punchin’,” he said to the empty room, easing himself onto the floor and grimacing as he felt his ankle twinge. “God damn fuckin’ Whoresmen,” he muttered, then threw his shirt on and exited the room.

He heard a knife chopping and used the sound to guide him to the kitchen. Smiling, he approached the woman standing at the kitchen island before hearing something that wiped the smile off his face.

“Hey, Petra?” he asked, approaching her cautiously. He put a hand on her shoulder and gently turned her around. “Are ya…are ya cryin’?”

_______

Solving Paxton Ray puzzle is like putting together two pieces. As long as they are right side up, it is nothing. 

Be woman. Show weakness.

Puzzle solved. 

It is why he is focused on his daughter, and it is why he likes the dumb American nurse. He wants to save weak women, and they beg to be saved.

I am not good at being vulnerable, but if the Crown demands it, then I will be weak. 

After all, he is too close to the answer now. He must be stopped.

_______

Petra put the knife down, wiping her tears quickly. “It is nothing. I am cutting onions.”

Paxton looked down at the cutting board and raised his eyebrows. “Those are green onions. They don’t make ya cry.”

“These are German green onions. They are very strong.”

Chuckling, Paxton put another hand on her shoulder so he was holding her at arm’s length. “Listen. I know ya try t’be strong all the time, but why don’t ya jus’ talk to me. What’s goin’ on?”

Petra looked up at him. Her chin, always sticking out in defiance and strength, tucked in as she looked back at the floor. “It is my mother. She is sick.”

“Aw shit, I’m sorry,” Paxton said, wrapping her up in a hug that she reluctantly returned. “Is she back in Germany?”

“No,” Petra said, refusing to look up. “She is…I do not know where she is.”

“Oh,” Paxton said, then realized. “Oh. So when I asked ya what they got on ya all those months ago…”

“Yes, Paxton, you pushy person, this is what MESSIAH has on me. I am just like you. Are you happy now?”

“A’course not,” Paxton said. “How could I be when someone I care ‘bout is this unhappy?”

_______

Paxton is simple. He is in MESSIAH’s crosshairs, so he will understand if others are too. Director Bathory said it months ago, and he was correct, as he always is.

To use another metaphor, Paxton is a dog in a yard. The yard belongs to MESSIAH, but just because he is trapped inside does not mean he will stay if the gate is open. So you reinforce the gate, and you have a pistol handy in case the dog needs to be put down.

He was always going to look for his daughter. What Bathory did not anticipate is that he would work with the people who should hate him more than anything in the world.

The problem with a man as simple as Paxton is once he gets a goal, it’s all he thinks about. So you must find something else for him to obsess over. 

And I said I was not MESSIAH’s whore.

_______

“You are very sweet,” Petra said, reaching up to caress his cheek. “I do feel better knowing that we are in the same situation.”

“Not for long,” Paxton said. “I’m gonna get Nora back soon. Then we can work on gettin’ your mom back too.”

“We talked about this,” Petra said, turning the knob from warm to cold in an instant. She walked back to the cutting board and grabbed the knife to continue chopping. “MESSIAH is not like the casino in that silly movie. You cannot pull off a heist. Nora is gone, and so is my mother.”

“That’s bullshit. Listen…we got a plan. I got people on it.”

“Who?” she asked.

“Don’t worry who. Jus’ know that it’s gonna happen. I can ask ‘em t’help ya too. We can–”

“Do not dare involve other people with my mother,” Petra yelled, whirling around and brandishing the knife up at him. “You can be a helpless pet who rushes to anyone and everyone for help, but I will not bring others into this mess!”

Paxton looked down at the knife coolly. “Damn, our relationship is progressin’. First time ya pulled a knife on me.” When the joke did not work to disarm her physically or figuratively, Paxton raised his arms in the air. “Okay. We don’t hafta. I was jus’ tryin’ t’help.”

Slowly, Petra put the knife down and looked at her feet. “I did not mean…I would not stab you.”

“Well I’d fuckin’ hope not, but thanks.”

“I do think involving others in Nora’s rescue is dangerous. MESSIAH is filled with bad people who do not care who gets hurt. Nora could get hurt. Your friends could get hurt.” Petra walked over and folded her body into his. “I am only thinking about you.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he muttered, holding her close. “Man, ya runnin’ up and down like a rollercoaster.”

“Get used to it. Germans have hot tempers.”

“So do Americans,” he laughed, kissing the top of her head.

_______

I look at him right now, sleeping in my bed, and I laugh at how easy it is. I laugh at how hopeless his quest is.

He thinks he can take on an entire organization. No, not an organization. A way of life. This is not a cartoon. The power of friendship does not exist. And even if it did, he has no friends, save for a lunatic with face piercings. He rants to me about this creature named Fred Dick, but Fred Dick has friends, as odious as he is. He found awful people who were unified in their terribleness. One could say that is what MESSIAH is as well.

But Paxton is worse, because he is a terrible man who pretends he is not. He’d fit in with that group of Fred’s. He fits in with MESSIAH if he were honest with himself. But he pretends to be some sort of reformed villain, an antihero come to take down the real bad guys. 

But his army hates him. His supposed friends hate him. MESSIAH hates him. He has no one because he is not honest about who he is.

He is a liar, and he is alone.

_______

“Besides,” Petra said, looking up at him, “MESSIAH said Nora will be safe, and you have to worry about your own safety with this Warchamber.”

“Oh yeah, the mystery death box that Lindsay apparently killed somebody in.”

“I watched the old tapes,” she said. “She is right. You will be changed even if you win. It looks devastatingly violent.”

“My kinda match,” he laughed. “Listen, ya ain’t gotta worry ‘bout me. Look at what’s gone down since Fred Dick entered my life. I been beaten down with a whiskey bottle. Had my nose broken. Damn near choked t’death. Thrown off a ramp in a goddamn shithouse. Now look up at me an’ tell me what ya see.”

Petra humored him. “An ugly, battered man.”

“An ugly, battered man who’s still fuckin’ standin’,” Paxton said, grinning. Then he frowned. “An’ damn, if ya think I’m ugly then that makes ya an ugly person fucker.”

“I’ve been called worse,” she said. “But like your quest for Nora, I think you are downplaying this. You never stop and think. You rush into things. You do not think about what is waiting for you. It is why you walked into several Whoresman ambushes.”

“They can’t get into the chamber,” Paxton said. “An’ sure, slowin’ down might save me a beatdown or two, but I’d rather fight with everything I got rather than be paralyzed with fear thinkin’ ‘bout what might happen.” He released her and balled up his fists. “Too much shit that needs t’get done.”

“That is true. And I am on top of the list,” she said, kissing him. “Now go to the bedroom and I will join you after these strong green onions are chopped.”

Paxton nodded, then walked back to her bedroom. He looked around again at the minimalist design and smiled, then walked towards the window to look out at it. He sighed in contentment, then turned away, frowning as he accidentally knocked something over.

He looked down at the notebook and picked it up, then stared at it for a few seconds. Shaking his head, he began to put it down, but then he felt a nagging voice in the back of his head. He shrugged and opened the notebook up. “I don’t speak German,” he muttered, flipping through the pages, but towards the end he stopped because the words were no longer in German.

_______

He is so simple. You can tell him anything, and you know which parts he will hear and which parts he will ignore.

He listened to me when I said I wanted him. He listened to me when I said looking at another person’s journal is wrong, so I can write this without fear. He listened to me when I told him that I had cinnamon rolls on Christmas. 

But he did not listen when I told him how easily manipulated he was. He did not listen when I told him Bathory could not be stopped.

And he did not listen when I told him exactly where his daughter was being held.

_______

Paxton’s eyes went wide as he read the notebook, then narrowed. “That bitch.” He closed them and began to go over the different conversations they had over the past few months. Then, once again, his eyes popped open in surprise as he remembered exactly what she said about Nora’s location.

He snarled, but kept reading.

_______

It was a big mistake, my biggest one since Directory Bathory assigned me to this post, but the best part is that it was not a mistake at all. Because a mistake is only a mistake if someone can exploit it. But Paxton never will, because he is too dumb to ever realize it. 

Forever the Crown

_______

“Dumb, huh?” Paxton growled and tossed the journal onto the dresser. He turned around, ready to unload on Petra. To show her how dumb he really was. To show her what happens when you betray his trust.

But before he left the room, he stopped. He realized that Petra’s words to and about him were harsh, but true. And he realized he needed to listen to what she said once again.

“Stop and think,” he said. After a moment, he walked over and grabbed the journal and stuffed it in his backpack. He slung it over his shoulder and walked towards the front door.

“Where are you going?” Petra asked as he zoomed past her.

“Somethin’ came up,” he grunted. He slammed the door and tossed the backpack in his truck, waiting until he was off of Petra’s street before screaming as loud as he could.

_______

The mood at the warehouse was somber as they sat around the table. Julie finally spoke up. “So, I guess you can tell us the news now since it’s clear he isn’t coming.”

“You’re right,” Shweta sighed. “It isn’t good news. We had originally received a list of twenty-two compounds from the MESSIAH mole that Paxton found in Wales. But in verifying the existence of some of those, my agents found that there are more – maybe even one hundred more.”

“Fuck,” Jonathan said.

“All over the world or just here?” asked Foster.

“All over.”

“Fuck,” echoed Foster.

“Yes, it is not great,” Shweta answered. “Between that and Paxton’s absence, this feels dire. I am not ready to give up, but the light at the tunnel may have just been a firefly.”

Julie sighed and stared at her arm, trying to get the splinter out, but it was being stubborn. “I wish there was something we could do.”

They all jumped at a clang downstairs. Julie stood and looked over the railing to see Paxton barrelling through the wood and metal by the doorway. He looked up at them with a snarl, then walked up the steps towards them.

“Where have you–” Shweta started, but was interrupted by a notebook being tossed in her lap.

“Is there a compound in Utah?”

“Wha–”

“Is there a fuckin’ compound in Utah?”

Shweta stammered and checked her original list. “Y-yes.”

“Then we know where Nora is.”

_______

Paxton’s Anger Journal

“You’ll beat Harley Walker within an inch of his life and march into the middle of Utah or wherever.” 

Petra’s right, that was a pretty big mistake. But she was wrong about it not matterin.

She made another big mistake today when she noticed my weaknesses and told me how to fix them.

Yeah, I’m a doer rather than a thinker. I rush in. I focus on one thing and nothin else. And if I was still doin that I was gonna shove that damn journal down Petra’s throat for deceivin me. I probably woulda made sure she never walked again.

But like she said, I need to stop and think. And once I did I knew that goin to Shweta with the info was better than lettin her know I figured her out.

So that mistake is gonna be hell for MESSIAH, and it’s gonna be hell for Fred Dick too. 

She was also right that the Warchamber is gonna be deadly and dangerous. And if I just rush in lookin for the knockout blow, it might be the last thing I do. Which means I’ll never be reunited with Nora.

But at Ultraviolence, Fred’s gonna be trapped in a huge contraption with me. And he’s got nowhere to go. So if I just take my time, I can do everythin in my power to make sure that asshole never fucks with me again. Hell, maybe he’ll never be able to fuck with anyone again.

And after that? Then I finally get my fuckin daughter back.

_______

After the excitement and confusion died down, Shweta and Jon excused themselves to work on a plan. Ian and Foster left to go talk to Connor about the news, leaving Julie alone with Paxton. She felt her heart rate race as he approached her.

“Hey,” he said, staying a safe distance from her.

“Hi.”

“Listen,” he said, looking at his feet. “I ain't been great recently. Truth told, I’ve been seein’ somebody since ya said ya needed space.”

“I figured,” she answered. “It’s okay, I don’t own you.”

“Well, I ended it today. An’ I ain’t tryin’ t’rush ya, but I jus’ wanted ya t’know that I ain’t gonna let anythin’ distract me anymore. Not from Nora. Not from the things I really care ‘bout. Or the people I care ‘bout either.”

Julie smiled. “Good. And don’t worry, we’re here with you every step of the way. You aren’t alone.”

Paxton smiled. “Thanks, Julie. I needed to hear that.”

Julie felt a chill and folded her arms, then yelped in pain.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. Just got a splinter an hour ago. It’ll wash out eventually.”

“Nah, lemme take a look at it,” he said, stepping forward.

Julie felt herself tense up, but after a moment nodded. “Okay.”

Paxton reached gently to cup her elbow with his right hand as he used his left to search for the splinter. After about a minute of effort, he pulled the piece of wood from her arm. “There ya go. All good.”

“All good,” she said, beaming at him.

_______

Petra returned to her room, confused and hurt by how Paxton left. She looked around her room, then immediately focused on the dresser.

“Where…?”

After searching her room for a few minutes and not finding the notebook, she sat on her bed, frowning. She suddenly raised her head. “He took it.”

She closed her eyes, then reached under the bed and grabbed another notebook and began writing.

_______

Entry: 14 Sept. 2024

Paxton Ray is like a puzzle, and the pieces fit together so easily. 

Go get her, Paxton. Go get Nora.