December 27th 2012

Day Eleven

Two days for Christmas, that’s all that was permitted for Eugene Dewey and the rest of the Faces of Death initiates. Christmas Day and Boxing Day to be precise. And considering Defiance had held an event on the 23rd, There really hadn’t been much Christmas cheer to speak of this year.

Sure Eugene had managed to pick up the victory over Dragon Jones, but he’d managed it in the most inelegant way possible, for you see, he simply fell off of the top rope to land all three hundred plus pounds across his opponent.

Christmas Eve was spent the way many people these days spend it, waiting for a plane to take him the few hundred miles home, a place he’d not been since leaving for the Training Temple almost two weeks earlier.

I know what you’re thinking, but trust me, for Eugene Dewey two weeks away from home was a big deal.

Upon returning home he’d received a hug and a celebratory cake from his mother (which he’d managed to avoid eating) but that was it. There was no fanfare, no bunting, and there were certainly no congratulatory anythings from his brother Wayne. Christmas dinner was eaten in relative silence as the two brothers refused to look each other in the eye, pass anything between them or even acknowledge the others existence. In fact, the only reason they’d even been in the same room at the same time was to appease Mrs Dewey.

Call it a joint Christmas present if you will.

The 26th was another day of travel back to Mechanicville, all so as he could be in the Training Temple ready for the morning exercises.

“Rise and shine ladies and gentlemen!” Adam Waterman called out to the weary eyed recruits lined up in front of him, “Today is December 27th. While I appreciate and respect all of your religious beliefs, December the 27th is a work day, not a holiday. Now, pair up and run through your warm ups.”

Everyone in the Training Temple had their own plans, so it made sense for them to pair up with people on a similar plan to your own. And so, no matter how much he wanted to warm up with Tom, Eugene found himself paired up with Omar Wise.

Now, looking at his big, bulging muscles and generally threatening demeanor, Omar would have seemed a complete mismatch for Eugene. But with the ankle injury he was rehabilitating it made perfect sense for him to be paired with the guy that would strike you as ‘weakest of the class’.

The first exercise was always always deadlifts and, barring the occasional grunt, Eugene completed his first set in relative silence. Omar signalled for more weight to be added, almost twice that of Eugene’s warm up, and completed that just as quickly.

“Hey, do you think you could help me take a couple of these off?” Asked Eugene as he started to remove the locks on the barbell. “Hey, Omar?”

“Nah man, ma mamma could do that easy.” Replied Omar with a half laugh. “Put that lock back on and get to it.”

Eugene swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and retightened the lock. He gripped hold of the bar and lifted. Omar was right, he could do it, or so he thought. Three reps later and Eugene’s knees started to wobble.

“Come on, man!” Omar snorted as he placed his hands under the bar, “This weight ain’t nuttin!”

But Eugene couldn’t hold it. He dropped the bar to the floor where it landed with a thud. “For you maybe! But for me that’s too much!” He shouted.

Only those closest to the pair stopped what they were doing to watch. Probably so that they knew when to get out of the way. Almost everyone else continued with their sets as though nothing were happening.

“Aight man, chill!” Omar said holding his hands up, “You need summin taken off we take it off.”

“No!” Snapped Eugene, “Don’t bother.” And with that he turned on his training partner and started for the door.

“Eugene.” Came the familiar voice of Sergei Bogorovich from behind Dewey. “Eugene, where are you going?”

He didn’t stop to respond.

“Eugene, you’re not going to leave.” said Serbo in the calmest voice imaginable.

“Why?” Asked Eugene as he finally turned around and pressed his back up against the door, “Are you gonna stop me?”

“No.” Serbo replied with a shake of his head, a response that clearly took Eugene off guard, “You are.”

“No, I’m not.” Replied Eugene. “You know, I might not have many people talking to me back in Wyoming, but at least those that do talk to me care about me. They don’t show me up by making me do things I can’t...”

“Showing you up?” Asked Serbo, “Do you really feel Omar is showing you up?”

Eugene didn’t reply in any way, shape or form. He knew that was a rhetorical question, and he knew if he’d answered it he’d end up getting slammed once for each day of the month that had passed.

“You will get nowhere if you stay in your comfort zone, Eugene.” Serbo continued bluntly, “Do you see what Omar is doing to himself right now?”

Sergei stepped aside to reveal Wise grimacing as he pulled the heavily weight barbell up to his waist and lowered it down again. He rolled his ankle slightly and exhaled slowly.

“He could be using that ankle as an excuse to do the bare minimum right now, but he isn’t. He’s fighting through the pain because he knows that ankle of his will get stronger in here much quicker than it will if he rests it in bed for the next six weeks.” Sergei continued.

“But I’m...” Eugene said hesitantly as he stared at the floor, slightly ashamed to even be thinking what he was about to utter, “I’m so much weaker than everyone here.”

“No you’re not.” Replied Serbo almost immediately. Again Eugene was taken aback by just how confident he sounded. “You’re one of the strongest men in this building right now.”

“But I can’t even lift Omar’s warm up weight.” Eugene said. “And he’s supposed to be the closest to me in this whole group.”

“Physical strength isn’t everything, Eugene.” Serbo said as he closed in on Dewey and pointed to his afro adorned head, “Mental strength can be just as, if not more, important. Have a look.”

Serbo pointed directly at a short, muscular man, dead lifting a fair weight. “Take Sandoval. A powerful man, yes, but all that power means nothing when his anger gets the better of him. Chris Cannon over there, a talented young man, no doubt, but his ego and his brashness have held him back in all of his endeavours.”

“Make no bones about it, the road to self improvement is long and difficult. But it’s made that much harder when you lack the mental discipline required to walk it.” Said Serbo, “ But you, Eugene, are a humble and respectful young man. Once you start down that road I know you’ll have no problems reaching the end.”

Eugene looked back to the floor again, not wanting to meet Serbo’s gaze.

“So...” Sergei finally said, “Like I said, I wasn’t going to stop you. If you still wish to leave you know where the door is.”

Eugene took a few seconds before removing his back from the door and stepped forwards.

“I think I’d like to stay.”

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