vindication
Alex Borden roared off of Interstate-90 up exit 280. Cleveland. East German Village. Alex Borden’s hometown. He rode through the streets of the inner city with a heavy heart. Rumbling between his legs was a FLSTF Harley Fat Boy; a machine of power and energy that gleamed with chrome and sleek gunmetal. He raced down Fleet Street, through the familiar blocks that held a memory everywhere he looked. The city hadn’t changed- it just got uglier.
Alex traveled the main vein of the city- a four lane street lined with places of business and places to eat, supplying the local populace with anything they might need. The hanging signs and flashy advertisements thinly disguised the jungle that lay beyond them- in the blocks.
It was evening and the sun was beginning to sink past the R&D Steel factory on the horizon. Orange street lights clicked on in the fading daylight. Minutes later all the lights in the city lit up in preparation to take the plunge into another night. The bright darkness brought Alex back even more. The utter reality of where he was and where he was heading reverberated in his head. But through the quiet anxiety and hate he felt inside there was something underneath that warmed when he visited his boyhood neighborhood. Just as urban decay scars the face of this place, the happiness and freedom of his nights out still remained. It was those memories that Alex held on to. Those memories are what brought him back here.
Alex took Fleet until he came to East 140th and turned left into the blocks. He rode through long streets of duplex low-rent housing past the heavy glow of white streetlights. The sun was gone.
Motoring past the houses, Alex saw small assemblies of local black youths packed in front patios and balconies here and there. The blocks were speckled with groups of five to fifteen lounging outside, almost always accompanied by some thudding rap music. The various crews represented themselves that way- by being seen with the people they wanted to be seen with- which was a common sight. As expected, Alex was stared at. This was not only because he was a white boy on a cycle, but because by now just about everyone of them knew who Alex Borden was.
After a few more minutes of navigating the blocks, he arrived at his destination: a two story red house with a square of shaggy green grass surrounded by a cyclone chain-link fence. He came to a slow stop in front of the house and placed his feet on the road. Alex gazed over at this old residence, so much like all the others and yet so beautifully special and unmistakably unique. This place, this street, was home.
Alex took a moment before cutting the engine. He got off, took a deep breath, and started up the driveway. He walked up the stairs to the front door and knocked on the screen door. About ten or twelve seconds later, a slim woman with deep lines in her face answered. She lightly gasped and brought her fingers to her lips in surprise.
“Alex.” she said with disbelief in her voice.
“Hey, Ma.” Alex smiled.
____________________________________
Earlier that day...
Alex was arguing with his manager, Greg Birel inside a Hilton Hotel room in Jacobs County, Indiana.
“How could you not discuss it with me first?!” Greg demanded. “You completely violated everything we agreed to!”
“I didn’t think it was such a huge deal! Jesus, it was just some dumb merchandising thing!” Alex shouted back.
“They were
T-shirts!” Greg cried. “The single most important staple in a professional wrestler’s career!”
Alex agreed to a merchandising deal the night before over a phone conversation with the NEW Head Offices. They said they needed final authorization on something called the “Borden Rep 24” marketing bundle. Alex assumed it was one of the many common merchandising decisions that hes been faced with lately. Greg handled most of it, but Alex figured he could take care of this one. He’s a grown man, after all. The next day, the travel schedule was interrupted and the bus deviated to Jacobs County, where Birel was waiting at a hotel. Alex was told this was because he needed to meet with Birel in person for an emergency ‘consultation’. Alex ended up getting an earful from his manager. It turns out, that marketing bundle he greenlighted over the phone was a major T-shirt deal.
“A ten thousand dollar investment! Its this kind of crap thats been ruining business since the depression- insubordination!"
“So you stopped the buses planned route and completely f*cked our promotional schedule to piss and moan about some phone call I received?”
“What, are you slow?! Due to that phone call my blueprint to market Alex Borden is going to be derailed in unrepairable ways! Thanks to your incompetence, those promotional dates will have to be put off!”
“Watch your f*ckin’ tone, Birel. First of all, I’m not going to lose sleep over some t-shirt design you don’t like. Second, this entire tour you have me running ain’t doin’ jack-sh*t for me! I’m just going in circles!”
“Of course its not working!” Birel scoffed. “I’m amazed anything works with a client that completely resists my guidance at every opportunity!”
“
Guidance?! HA! That’s a laugh. I saw what your ‘guidance’ accomplished in the ring! What good is a man on the field looking out for me when he only makes a bad situation worse?” he asked.
“The interference wasn’t my idea, Alex.”
“So you say. But what am I supposed to believe? Is every important match I have in NEW going to be ruined by interference from anyone who feels like rushing in? First a white ninja comes out to help me, then a black ninja runs out to completely screw me over! Its like some f*cked up Spy vs. Spy comic!”
“We will deal with them- whoever they are. We’ll unmask them and take every legal action.” Birel assured.
“When
we deal with them? What the hell happened to Mr. Big-man-in-control? Now that there’s some real threat that actually threatens bodily harm, you want to hand me the reins?”
“That’s your job; you do the grunt work. That’s what you do. You’re the brawn, I’m the brains, get used to it. I let you do your job, and I’m going to do mine. Remember just what your station in this partnership is, Alex. You’re the instrument, I’m the player!” Birel snapped angrily.
“You’re so full of sh*t, Birel. You just watch yourself, asshole. ‘Cause unless things turn around right f*ckin quick, I won’t let you get away with this disrespect any longer. Then I think it’ll become clear just whose in charge here.” Alex ominously threatened.
“Thats already clear as crystal to me, Alex.”
“Yeah? Well f*ck this, I’m out of here.” Alex muttered and started for the door.
“Yeah, alright go! Leave just like before! Go run along and start another bar room brawl!”
“Eat sh*t.” Alex said and stepped out of the room.
“I hope you break your neck.” Birel said under his breath.
And so Alex left his seething manager behind as he had done before and started for some destination that was still a mystery to him. It wasn’t until he was on the road headed northeast for about thirty minutes that he made the decision to go home.
____________________________________
Richard and Sarah Borden’s home
1717 West 129th Street
Cleveland, Ohio
10:00 PM
For the first time in nearly ten years, Alex sat at his old kitchen table with his mother sipping a cup of coffee. She was a slender woman with pale skin and gray-green eyes. Her hair still flowed down her blue robe as smooth and silky as it ever had been. She rested her hand on his.
“Oh, sweetie, its so good to see you again. I keep hearing about you on the television. You made it.” Sarah Borden smiled. “I’ve been getting your letters.”
“Yeah. Things have been going real good for me, Ma. I’m wrestling in NEW. Thats the New ERA of Wrestling. Its pretty tough competition but I got a nice set-up over there. I have a manager and everything. Uh, have you... seen any of my shows?” Alex asked.
“No, hun. Things haven’t changed too much here. You know, with your father and everything.”
“Yeah.” Alex lowered his eyes.
“You shouldn’t have come, Alex. You could be arrested.” Sarah said, concerned. “You have to leave before your father gets back!”
“I know. But I had to see you again, Ma.”
A short lifetime ago Alex was kicked out of his house by his father and a restraining order was placed, forbidding him from ever returning. It is a known fact in Alex’s history, that he was tried for the attempted murder of his father, Richard Borden. Though the verdict was not-guilty, the circumstances leading to Alex attacking him with a crowbar are dark, sinister and unseen. To the uninformed collective, what he did made him a criminal of the most common and classic type. However, what has been and remains to this day so very well hidden is the secret truth that Richard Borden beat his wife and child mercilessly for years... until Alex did something about it. He sought retribution and found it in his fathers broken, bloody face.
“Where is he?” Alex asked.
“Your father should still be down at the mill. His shift ended a few minutes ago. You should go, son.”
“
GOD!” Alex cried out, exasperated. “Hasn’t that piece of sh*t been a burden on our lives long enough?! He hurt you, Ma. He hurt me. Dad is whats been keeping us apart all these years. Why do you allow it, Ma? Why don’t you leave him?”
“Oh, Alex we’ve talked about this too many times before already! I can’t divorce your father! I love him!” Sarah choked up. “You can’t ask me to do something like that! Richard is a good man, Alex. He works hard and he cares about me. He- he just gets overwhelmed sometimes and he lost control in the past. He hasn’t hit me in so many years. We’ve been going to consoling every week for a couple of years now, its been helping a lot. He has changed, Alex. Please believe me. He really is different.” she looked at her son with a heavy weight in her eyes, almost pleading with him to just stop trying to save her.
“Thats bullsh*t, Ma. You still make excuses for him.”
“Damn it, Alex, he didn’t deserve what you did to him! You smashed his face in! Thats unforgivable! Hes your own father, for God’s sake!” Sarah exclaimed, her voice quivering. “You almost killed him... I think sometimes that that was your intention all the time.”
“It was- and I’m sorry I didn’t.” Alex replied coldly.
“You broke my heart that night. I love you, Alex, I love you so much but you betrayed me and I still haven’t forgiven you.” Sarah removed her hand from his and frowned.
He felt as if he had been stabbed in the chest. As if he too had just been betrayed, spurned by what his mother said. “You haven’t... Ma...” Alex was at a loss for words.
“I will always love you son, but you almost killed the man I love the most in the world. You beat him half to death and things can never be right again.”
Alex closed his eyes for a moment, swallowed, and stood up before his mother.
“Alright, Ma. I guess I needed to come here tonight to understand something- that you haven’t changed. And believe me, neither has Dad. But you can fool yourself as much as you need to in order to support this f*cked up bizzaro world illusion of yours. I managed to escape him, I was able to make a life for myself outside and away from being under his thumb like you. And you’re still here, in this house, living the same delicate fantasy you’ve been living last time I saw you. My life is wearisome, and at times, its f*cking impossible, but at least I have a life. I pity you, Ma. Because you’re weak. I love you too, but as far as I’m concerned, I’m finished caring about you. You obviously don’t give a rat’s ass about me. Good-bye.”
Without speaking another word, Alex walked out of the house and out of that old life forever. Behind him, his mother bawled.
Coming there, he wished for a reconciliation with his mother. He longed to be a part of her life again, to make her proud. Now, having proved herself to be a hopeless case, he was ready to forget about her and move on.
As he walked down to the tree-lawn where his bike was parked, a red pick-up truck pulled into the driveway and came to a squealing stop in front on Alex. Sitting inside, with eyes bugged out in surprise, was Richard Borden.
“What... the... f*ck?!” The door swung open and Alex’s father jumped out and started walking toward him. He hadn’t aged very well. His hair was all gray now and receding down the middle of his head. He wore the same blue collar steel worker’s outfit and yellow hiking boots. “ALEX! What the hell are you doing here?!” he demanded, getting in his son’s face.
“Hello, Dad.” said Alex mockingly.
“You aren’t to come here, understand?! Never! You aren’t a part of our lives anymore! We don’t know you!” said Richard. His mother’s sobs still drifted from inside the house. “Oh my god, Sarah! What have you done to her?!” he ran past Alex inside the house.
A few seconds later, he appeared again from inside the front door. “I’m calling the police! This time, they’ll lock you up for good, you miserable punk!”
“Yeah? Tell Sheriff Tarigowski I said hello.” Alex taunted.
He laughed again in that odd way of his. When things got really heavy in his life, he never failed to feel some base sence of amusement from the sheer brutality and calamitous events in his life.
“The more things change, the more they stay the same.” Alex said to himself.
He got on the bike and revved it back to life. Without looking back, he tore down West 129th for the last time.
