TRAIN KEEPS ROLLING (CADILLAC JACKSON)

I -, I did it. Holy. Fucking. Shit. 

I actually did it. 

I thought it was just a cliché, the whole 'it felt like a dream' thing, you know? I never thought it was a real feeling. Yet as I sit backstage of the Sydney Super Dome I have no other way of describing the sensation running through my body. It's like every nerve in my body is firing all at once, and yet I feel completely numb. It's this how it feels? How it feels to actually accomplish something that you want and need so badly. I've grown so familiar with disappointed and so-close-yet-so-far that this is truly a surprise. 

I didn't think I could do it - hell no, nobody thought I could do it. 

... 

Well I guess there's one person who thought I could...

---

 

I don't know why I was so worried to go inside. 

The plain ride was a nightmare. The entire flight all I could think of was the buzzing my phone made mid-promo, and how if I had heard it sooner how I'd have been that much closer to seeing my dad. All I needed to do was answer Doobie's call. Not that it'd have mattered... but the guilt had consumed me. As I flew down the 35mph back roads from the airport to the Hampton NH hospital at about 85mph, my thoughts somehow were able to drown out the rattling of my old-ass car that shouldn't have hit that speed ten years ago let alone now. Catching myself coasting into the ditch or over the yellow line frequently, it was a wonder I made it to the hospital in my car and not in an ambulance hours later after they found me in a mangled mess of steel and panic. But I did make it... here I am... 

Yet I can't bring myself to go in. 

Is it just the guilt? Of being so far away when my dad really needed me? Is it the anxiety of seeing how bad it really is? Doobie never said what was wrong... just that something was wrong. Why the fuck didn't he say what was wrong?! He took the time to text me to come, he couldn't take the time to tell me - 

Argh. It's not Doobie's fault. I'm the asshole galivanting around the world while cancer cells rip apart my role model, my hero, the man I aspire to be even a fraction of. I just want it to be ok... 

My hand hovers over the door knob of room 607, shaking violently as I clasp the cold metal handle. With a twist of the wrist I open the door slowly and cautiously, peaking my head in. I swallow the lump on my throat and choke back tears, managing to squeak out. "... Dad?" 

My voice echoed in the eerie, quiet room. 

I've never felt more anxiety in my entire life. 

"You know... I'm not much for clichés, nor is my humble, benevolent self one to point out others mistakes. But uh... 

I told you so, mother fuckers." It was a nice day, the sun had began to set behind the currently empty Forsyth Barr Stadium, and Cadillac Jackson stood tall and proud. Leaned against the fence of a near by railroad track, Cadillac looked on at the arena with admiration. "The first time I ever spoke as a member of the Project Honor Proving Ground roster, I talked a lot about history. How when I blew up and became a mega star, Emmanuelle would forever be known as the first person to lose to Cadillac Jackson. Now come the 1 year anniversary show, each and ever person in the arena will also be a part of history, as will you, Valkyrie. The last few months have been a warm up, a prelude to what you'll be seeing for the rest of my illustrious career. But Proving Ground: A Year in the Making? That's when we start the feature film baby. 'Cuz from here on out it's smooth sailing. 

Now, you'd think that I'd have gotten my thirst for revenge quenched when I eliminated you from the Opportunity Knocks battle royal, but Valkyrie... I guess I'm just a littleeeee bit gredy, cuz I want more. I had the biggest win of my life, and now I'm on the fast track to becoming the Grand Champion - and you're in my way Val. I'm going to make an example out of you. An example to all the haters who never thought they'd see Cadillac Jackson reach this level. To everyone who thought I was just another pretty face. To everyone... who doubted I'd be able to win the Opportunity Knocks battle royal... I'mma rub it in their face something fierce. Now Val, I get it, you didn't cost us that match on purpose. I get it. But... Let's face it.. I'm petty as hell. You were the soul reason that we - that I was eliminated from the Friends Like These tournament. Though, I must say, with as angry as I was at you costing me that match... 

Maybe I owe you a thank you." Cadillac turns from the building to the camera. "I want to thank you because despite your incompetence and inability to hold up your end of the bargain in that match, it gave me the motivation I needed to win the Opportunity Knocks battle royal. It lit the fire under my ass that carried me from number ten, all the way to the last one standing. It allowed me the confidence and drive to shock the world and pull off one of the biggest upset stories in professional wrestling history. Decades from now they'll be talking about the young, brave hero who took on nineteen of the best in the business, and against all odds walked out victorious. 

And I have you to thank for that Valkyrie. I shocked the world. Opportunity knocked, and I was there to open the door. Now I know there's been a lot of talk about it being a 'controversial win', so apparently now out smarting your opponents and using tactic is a controversy? But regardless, whatever way you want to view it - I went into this match without a single vote of confidence, and now I got the whole world watching me. Do you know how good it feels to call your shot? To go out and say you're going to win something, have nobody believe you, then do the damn thing? Do you understand the incredible feeling you get when you see the records updated, and you see that fateful 'w' in the win column? 

Actually - I guess that's sort of a dumb question, 'cuz from the look of your win/loss record you'd have no grounds to know what any of that feels like." Cadillac smirks. "Regardless. This is just the beginning. Like a phoenix from the ashes, Cadillac Jackson has risen... and this is just the beginning. Beating you is just the first step Val, because while it doesn't matter who has faith in me that I can actually claim the Grand Championship? I'm going to prove them all wrong. 

So I recommend that you view your loss this week not as a step down, nor something to hold against yourself. You're going one on one with the future Grand Champion, the new and improved Cadillac Jackson. You're not facing the man getting screwed over tag match after tag match - you're facing the man who won a match containing Ozymandias, Lil Petey, Lance Williams, Dickie Watson - the list goes on and on. People who are considered the backbone of this company... and I beat them all. I eliminated you from the battle royal Val, and at the one year anniversary show - I prove that I am simply the better wrestler when it comes to the two of us. 

I hope your arm has healed up a bit from the beating it took with Will... 'cuz you're going to need to bring everything you got if you want to try and beat me. I'm on a roll baybee... and this train ain't slowin' down for nothing." With an arrogant smirk and a wink to match, Cadillac took one more passing glance at the arena before exiting the scene as it fades to black. 

---

 

"Cameron?" A light flicked on, and the wave of relief that hit my body like a mack truck was euphoric. While still deeply troubling and sad, my heart skipped a beat when I saw my dad sit up in bed, as pained as it was, and smile at me. "Cameron... well I'll be, I didn't think you were going to make it. You shouldn't have rushed all the way here for me..." The more the relief that my dad was moving around and conscious faded away, the sadder it became to see this man I admire so struggle to move, getting tangled in tubes taped to his arms. The sadder the slight slur in his drug-induced lisp became to hear. It was just so... sad. Walking in slowly I shake my head, resting a hand on my dad's arm as I sit. 

"Nonsense dad, I'd have come no matter where I was. Stop moving Pops, you're going to make it worse." He forced a smile, and I attempted to look happy as well, though I'm sure my face betrayed me. Looking around the room I realized Doobie was nowhere to be seen. "Dad where's Doug?" Dad smiled and waved his hand dismissively. 

"Oh goodness, I finally got him to go home about an hour ago. I had Roger come pick him up and bring him to the house. You remember Roger, right?" 

"Yeah dad, I remember -" 

"Roger is the one who used to babysit you kids, he's lived next door to me for over 30 years now. You know, when we were younger Roger and I used to -" 

"Yes. Yes dad, I remember Roger. What happened to Dougie?" I felt terrible snapping, I could tell my dad's head was clouded from the medication. 

"Oh. Oh yes. I had Roger bring him home. He was here for over 48 hours and slept about thirty minutes. The boy wasn't eating either, and at first I thought he was getting sick because of how pale he looked. Then I remembered... that's just his usual level of pale." Alright, that got me. We shared a laugh that was interrupted quickly by coughing and a pained groan. 

"Be careful dad..." 

"I am Cameron... I promise I am." He paused, his hand reaching for my face. "For the love of Pete, look at you Cameron. You look like shit too. You need to go get some rest, my TV star must have another fight coming up soon?" Dad never really did understand wrestling, though he was insanely proud that his son was on the television. 

"It's okay, really dad. I want to stay. My next match isn't for a few weeks." 

"Hmm. You still need time for you, Cam. Who are you facing this time?" 

"Ack, it's a long story dad. I'm actually in a match called the Opportunity Knocks battle royal. Whoever wins gets a future shot at the Gran-... one of the big championships." My dad's eyes lit up. 

"Ohh? Then why do you look as if you just bit a lemon then? Isn't that your dream is to be a champion in World Project Wrestling?" Old man got me again. I chuckled. 

"Project Honor dad. And yeah, it's a dream of mine for sure. But, there's nineteen other wrestlers dad, and I don't have the best record going into this. There's little to no chance of me walking out of that, so I'm trying not to get my hopes up, you know?" The smile disappeared from my dad's face for the first time since I entered the hospital room. He sat up gently again, grunting again and shaking his head. 

"No. No... no I don't know Cameron. That sounds like bullshit to me." Damn. Not pulling punches. "Cameron do you remember what I told you when you said you wanted to become a professional wrestler after your mother passed?" 

"That I must have been dropped on my head too many times as a kid if I wanted to be dropped on my head as a living?" He chuckled. 

"Well yeah... I suppose when you first told me I said that. I told you that I didn't understand it. I didn't know what wrestling was or why you'd want to live the rest of your life in constant pain for minimum gain. But I was wrong. Do you remember what I told you after your first Project Honor match?" I choked up. Of course I remembered. "I could see the joy, the child-like excitement you had when you came home that night. I knew that you were doing something special Cameron. I told you that I was proud of you. I told you that your mother is proud of you looking down watching you. I told you that you're an exceptional human that everyone deserves in their life, and that even if they can only get a glimpse of that though their television in an overextended, characterized version of yourself that it's still better than nothing. You have so much to offer, Cameron, so much. You just gotta be willing to show people." I looked out the window for a moment, failing to hide the tear that slid down my cheek. 

"I just... it's a lot of work dad... it's going to be hard." He interrupted again. 

"Then you do what you've always done Cameron and do the fucking work. You're no stranger to hard work. Nothing in life is easy. You and Dougie didn't have an easy upbringing, but you survived and turned out to be two of the best human beings walking this planet. You're going to do amazing things Cameron. I honestly believe you're going to do amazing things." I felt his hand squeeze my forearm, and I turned with a smile that was quickly returned. "Or should I say... Cadillac?" I leaned in and hugged my dad. Leaning back I shake my head, trying to get back on track. 

"So... anyways. When can I take you home, Pops?" 

"Oh. I don't know Cameron, they want to run a few more tests on my heart and what have you. I'm sure it'll be a few more days. They get paid by the hour, you know." With a wink, the two of us then sat in peaceful silence for a few minutes, before he slowly fell asleep. It wasn't the perfect situation, but I couldn't help but smile at the true, genuine faith my dad had in me whole nobody else did. My moment of happiness was short lived as the door popped open after a soft knock, and in walked my father's doctor. The man looked a little surprised to see me. 

"Oh, my apologies, I thought you were the son that had been staying here." The doctor said with a dry cadence. 

"He had to run for a bit. I'm the other son, Cameron." The doctors eyes widened slightly, but then sunk. 

"Oh. I see. Well Cameron, come with me." He motioned with his hand to follow and didn't wait for an answer before slipping into the hallway, leaving me no choice but to follow. Closing the door behind me, the doctor spoke softly. "So, I don't have a very pleasant way to say this... but your father suffered a very serious heart attack. He's recovering, but the problem is we're not sure if his heart is going to be strong enough for us to continue chemo." He stopped talking as if there wouldn't be a need for follow up. 

"Uh, okay? So what does that mean? We have to do a different treatment?" He could tell I was getting worked up, and his tone finally changed to empathetic. 

"You... you could. I talked to your brother earlier and he informed me that you two weren't in the best of financial situations, and that you didn't have any insurance. If we go a different direction with treatments, the only option is a very long process with extended recovery and rehabilitation times... and there's still never a guarantee it'll work." 

"I mean yeah, if that's what we need to do that's what we'll need to d-" 

"Mr. Jackson the procedure in total is about five times what you were paying now, and we wouldn't be able to break them up in as many payments. It's going to be a very, very expensive procedure - and I don't mean to be grim but unless you can find a way to get significantly more financially stable, that may not be an option. You'd have to make way more money, Mr. Jackson, and an opportunity like that isn't going to just knock on your door, you know?" I stared dead ahead. Make more money quickly? The need for a big change? Opportunity knocks... 

Opportunity knocks. 

"I'll get you the money you need. Give me a few months. I'll get the money... 

I'll get the money." 

End.