Catching Up to the Past, Part I (More Fatherly Advice)
Scott wasn't one to make excuses or grandstand about being railroaded or screwed. Under most circumstances he would take his lumps where given and ultimately chalk it up to the experience. IWF's first pay per view event, The Experience, would prove to be no different.
"I don't even have to say anything, do I?" Scott asked Courtney as he unlaced his boots; shirtless and sitting in the steel folding chair.
The event still roared on out among the fans and commentators. The public address system became degraded to a low rumble by the time it shook through the concrete walls, and made its way in the make shift locker room Scott shared with a few other performers. Most of whom, would be huddled around a common monitor somewhere watching how the end of the night would turn out.
Scott would catch a replay.
At this point he just wanted to shower and get clear of the night. Start fresh in morning.
"No, you don't. I already know." She replied with a scolded school girl's tone as she gathers her and Scott's things in preparation for their imminent departure.
Scott's chest is nearly touching his knees as he leaned down, feverishly pulling the stings from his boots. He snatched each down far enough to fling the tatter foot wear off of his worn out feet. Exhausted; he sits back letting the cold steel cool his heated body and sore back.
"I don't blame you. I just worry."
Courtney zips up her bag and responds, "I know. I just wish..."
Scott interrupts, "Wishing is a kin to crying. Neither accomplish anything. Don't worry about it... all of this isn't over yet. I'm still the number two contender, right?"
"Right." She responds unconvinced and unenthusiastic.
Scott rubs his neck; which his and all of his competitors body weight, and force thereof, came crashing down upon to put an end to an otherwise stellar performance. Courtney pulls Scott's dry shirt from his bag, and tosses in his drenched in-ring garment. She hears a prescription bottle of pills rolling around in the bag and pulls it from the bottom.
"What are these?" she questions.
Scott attempts to crack his neck snatching his chin from side to side before turning to examine what Courtney is holding in her hands, assuming already it's the bottle from his bag.
"Muscle relaxers. Soma." He answered very directly. "Matter of fact, let me have one of those. My neck got wrenched something terrible tonight."
Courtney applies the appropriate pressure and multitask-ed directions of movement to prove her age to the inanimate object and shakes a pill out into the cap left in her free hand. She dumps the round white pill into Scott's palm and he tosses it back. "Water?" she asks extending a half drank bottle to Scott from the bench. He takes a swig and swallows the pill and then raises the bottle back to his lips to finishes it off. The earth friendly bottle crackles and shrieks as Scott crushes it to coax every drop he can from it.
"Is that ...the Scott Douglas?" a voice questions.
Scott slowly turns, favoring his neck, to see his father approaching from the door way.
"Pops, I didn't know you made it out."
Scott's father, Nate, took a seat next to his Scott and Courtney's bags on a bench next to his son's chair. "Courtney, it's been quite sometime since I've seen that gorgeous young face." He notes, mostly as a pleasantry.
Courtney, lightly shrugs her shoulders, smiles and turns her face slightly to the left to convey a mix of modesty, embarrassment and appreciation for the compliment. "Yes, sir. Quite some time." She replies. "It's wonderful to see you Mr. Douglas. I'll let you two chat... Scotty, I'm going to go see if pay out is ready."
"Alright." Scott responds as Courtney leaves the room.
Nate adjusts himself on the bench. "Courtney ... Sarah ... Allen. Your mother wondered why you hadn't been home." Nate chuckles, "I just told her you were a grown man in a hectic business and not to worry about it. I wasn't worried."
Scott interjects, "I appreciate that, Pops."
"Well, don't jump the gun son. I wasn't ... until I finally caught an episode of Chain Reaction and I see Courtney out there." Nate explains to his battle worn son.
Scott, assuming he knows what's coming, immediately goes on the defensive; "Look, I know how you and mom feel but..."
Nate puts his hand out motioning for Scott to yield. "Hold on now, son," he chuckles "didn't I just... tell you not to jump the proverbial gun. Look, I'm not worried about you and her together. Hell, when you didn't come home after the first show, I figured as much. I'm not going to hold two adults liable for their misadventures as children. You two had something, but it didn't work out. You grew up, and now it may ... hell I ain't 'Dear Abby.'"
Nate struggles to hold back a cough reaching for his handkerchief from his front chest pocket. Once holdings the finely stitched cloth up to his mouth and in the clear he lets loose and descends into a coughing fit for a moment. Scott extends his hand toward his father but purposefully never quite reaches him. Based on his personal knowledge that, though humble, his father is proud man from a different era and its best just to leave him be.
The fit subsides, and with his composure reestablished: Nate continues, "You mother? Now that's a different story all together, son." Nate pauses to clear his throat. "My concerns lie solely in; why the hell you got that girl out there with you? ... and honestly I think what happened tonight just proves my point."
Scott allows the concerns voiced to sink in for a moment before he responds, "I get it. I really do. Believe it or not, I was just talking to her about that and I worry about her safety ... But as she reminds me, constantly, she's a grown women... and I don't want to send her ego to the stratosphere but I have to hand it to her; she took a hell of a bump tonight."
"Well, son ... that me be, although I'm not sure I'm fully on board with that line of thought, but what about the fact that you may have very well flipped that last Suplex if it had not been for your concern for her well-being?" Nate questions. Adding, "Which regardless of what you tell me now, is certainly strong. As it should be."
Scott quips back, respectively, but quickly. "Pop, if it had not been for her I wouldn't have made it back into the tournament, let alone be up for number one contender."
"Ok, ok ... It's your deal son. Your cross to bare. I'm not here to intervene or act like an old washed up worker can call shots. Just wanted to voice my concern." Scott's father tells him.
Scott scratches his bearded cheek while staring to floor contemplating what his father has said. He looks up, "Alright. I'll certainly take it into consideration old man." Scott smirks.
"That's all I ask." Nate replies with a grin of his own.
Just as the father/son duo's conversation seemingly draws to somewhat of a conclusion; Courtney returns with two white envelopes in hand.
"Well, its late son and I really need to get going before your mother thinks I'm gallivanting the bar scene or something irrational of the like. Miss Courtney, it is always wonderful to see you. Keep your eye on this one." Nate jokingly warns.
"Same here, Mr. Douglas. Say hello to Mrs. Douglas for me please." Courtney responds as Scott hauls himself to his feet.
Nate leans in and give Courtney a big hug and tells her; "I'll be sure to do that, and hun' call me Nate." She responds "yes, sir" as the two pull back from one another.
"Glad you made it out, old man. I ... thought I heard some old crow screaming 'Douglas Sucks' out there tonight" Scott adds as the three share a laugh. Scott and his father share a hug in the form of a hand shake, a shoulder bump, and a mutual pat on the back.
"You two be good, now." Nate remarks as he backs away from Scott and heads out.
"Yes, sir." Scott and Courtney respond, nearly, in unison.
Once Nate appears to be out of sight and ear shot, Courtney turns to Scott.
"What was that all about?"
Scott snatches his bag from the bench where his father had been previously sitting.
"Just some fatherly advice. You ready?"