Monday June 1, 2004
He who love touches walks not in darkness.
-
Plato
What an interesting week this has been. First the goddam fire alarm
in my building breaks, sending a shrill ringing through the halls at 5:30 in the morning.
Then I get a fine for sleeping out on the park bench in front of my building because I
can't sleep in my own bed due to the wailing distress signal going off.
Finally I manage to get a few hours of rest, make my way into work only to find out that I
have to team up with Riggs in a tag match. Not that I'm really complaining about the
match. It was nice to work with someone like Riggs again. Someone skilled and determined.
I didn't mean to take the pin (literally) out from under him. I however have a mission,
one that requires things to be done that I don't necessarily want to do... things I have
to do.
Speaking of things I don't want to do this week I'm booked to fight Smith. This is
actually the first time since I joined the RW that I have been told in advance who I'm
going to be fighting. At this point however I'm going to have to take it with a grain of
salt. I'm going to go in there expecting Smith, but ready for any last minute surprises
that might just "happen" to come my way.
As far as Sam Smith goes, well he seems to be a bit pre-occupied these days. Perhaps I can
work that to my advantage... that is as long as I remember not to give him that advantage
over me.
I will be nice to get back to one-on-one action again. While I do enjoy teamwork I find
that with too many people in the ring I can easily loose focus and leave myself open to
unwanted attention from outside sources. Especially when your partner is someone you don't
know very well. If there is one thing that Salvador taut me it was learn to trust your
partner and you'll never be alone out there.
It is a little ironic that I had a tag match. While I have been typing up my memoirs as it
were, I have been thinking back to my first ever-official match. It was a tag match. My
partner? Salvador Zenon Halcon Del Ebano.
I had been training in Mexico for about 8 months. The schedule was just as demanding as
Japan, but somehow the time seemed to fly by. I had fun when I worked with Gil. He taught
me showmanship. How to play to the crowd, read what they want and give it to them. He
would make me stand in front of the gym every day and tell some old crappy joke to
everyone training. I was embarrassed at first, but as the time went by I actually began to
look forward to it.
It was Gil who first asked me about my look. He would tell me:
"If you want to be Lucha, you have to look like Lucha. Look at your friend, he is
ready to take on the world."
WidowMaker once again fit in perfectly. Wearing his black leather s&m mask he
certainly looked the part. At over 7 feet tall he also liked to act the part, once again
taking his frustrations out on the poor amateur's that Gil would throw at him every day.
It wasn't like I didn't give any thought to my look. I even went as far as dying my hair
red (it was the 90's after all) but as far as the rest of the package I just couldn't come
up with anything that I thought was "cool" enough, and there was no way I was
wearing a mask...
There are two reasons I would never wear a mask 1) to the Luchador a mask is something
almost sacred. It symbolizes and almost superhero like quality... after what I had done
there was no way I was worthy 2) I am a little bit claustrophobic, the thought of wrapping
that thing around my head even to this day makes me want to run over and open a window.
So for a long time they just called me the kid. A name that I wasn't particularly fond of,
but one I answered to nonetheless. Salvador and I were roughly the same age so he used to
get a kick out of that name especially. He would grab me in a headlock and say:
"How is my kid today? Keeping out of trouble?"
Salvador was great that way. He always made you feel like you were somebody cool. Somebody
that was important to him... that made me happy because the more I got to know him the
more important he became to me.
The more time I spent with him the more I got to know him, until we were no longer teacher
and student, we were something profoundly deeper. I would help him with his English and he
would teach me Spanish. After every session we would go up to the roof to cool off and
watch the stars. Most of the time we would say nothing, just lie back in quiet admiration.
It is very hard to describe what it is that I felt when I was around him. I felt that I
could tell him anything, and it almost seemed like I did. Every Wednesday night we would
rent a movie (back in the old days before these new fangled DVD’s) and afterwards we
would sit up drinking and discussing the film, our views on life, our families…
In fact it was during one of these discussions when I finally realized how close we had
become. We were sitting around the kitchen table talking when Salvador noticed that I kept
rubbing my left ring finger (WidowMaker made me take off my wedding band but I could still
feel it there, a constant reminder.) Without a word he leaned forward and took my hand. I
looked up at him and tears begin to fill my eyes. For the first time in months I cried. I
cried and cried. Salvador just stood there comforting me. I truly feel that was the first
time that I actually mourned Trish, and Salvador was the one who made it all better.
The extent of our relationship was something that did not go un-noticed by WidowMaker. He
seemed to distance himself from me while we were in Mexico. At first I didn’t notice
because the changes were subtle, eventually however it seemed I could go a whole week
without seeing him. As much as I was enjoying my time with Salvador I did miss what WM and
I shared.
It was a Wednesday morning when Salvador told me the news… He had entered us in a local
wrestling show as a tag team. I was excited and nervous at the same time. After all this
was going to be my first official match.
I ran up the stairs to tell WidowMaker the news. When I opened the door to our room I
found him lying on the bed, his back to me.
“What?” was all he said.
I told him about the match hoping that he would turn and embrace me, tell me how happy he
was. Instead I got a muffled grunt followed by a motion for me to leave.
As I left the room I couldn’t hide how hurt I was by his reaction. All this time I had
spent training was finally going to pay off and he didn’t even bother to look at me. I
was crushed.
Salvador must have sensed my disappointment because as soon as he saw me he made it his
mission to cheer me up. His first words to me where:
“Well, if you are going to be my tag team partner we are going to need two things. A
look for you and a name for us.”
A smile crossed my lips as the realization of what was happening finally dawned on me. I
was going to put on a show. People were going to pay money to watch me perform.
Salvador went and got Gil. The three of us spent the rest of the afternoon thinking up
names and gimmicks. But nothing seemed to fit. Nothing felt right to me. Finally at the
end of the day Salvador and I decided to give up and head to the video store for our
mid-week ritual.
As fate would have it the new release for this week was the fatal final film of Brandon
Lee, a futuristic comic book film where he was tragically killed on set. We took it back
to the gym and popped it in the VCR.
The whole tone of the film seemed to stir something in me. About halfway through (right at
the part where Brandon says that “Nothing is trivial”) I lost it. Tears started to
trickle down my cheeks as I though once more about Trish and the baby. Salvador looked
over as me and whispered:
“That’s it… That is who you are… El Cuervo.”
I looked over at him and he nodded.
“It is perfect. That was the name of your mother’s tribe? It is your birthright.”
Salvador jumped up and ran downstairs. A few moments later he returned with a makeup kit.
He told me to sit in front of the mirror and I did.
Slowly he dipped his fingers into the white paint. He gently began to rub it across my
forehead, soothingly down the curves of my face. Then he ran his fingers across my lips
and I took a breath in. Salvador laughed silently as I closed my eyes.
After he had finished tracing the contours of my cheeks he reached for the black.
“Now I will paint you beautiful ebony wings.”
 |
For some reason the black paint was somewhat colder
then the white, and I jumped slightly when it touched my eyelids. Once again Salvador
laughed.
It seemed like it took him forever to finish, but I was in no hurry for it to end. I was
enjoying the feeling of him recreating me. Molding me into his vision of me.
When he finally stepped back and told me to look into the mirror I was a little hesitant,
but finally my curiosity got he better of me and I leaned forward… I saw the face that
would shape my destiny for the future. I saw the Crow. |
Salvador smiled as he leaned forward.
“You look very good yes?”
I nodded and continued to stare at myself.
“Now then, I am El Halcon . You are El Cuervo… Together we shall be Pajaros De la
Presa. Do you like that?”
I smiled back at him and turned back to the mirror. Suddenly I noticed something. I could
see the reflection of the door. It was open, just a crack, but enough that I could see,
standing there… Was the WidowMaker.
“Yeah. Pajaros De la Presa is great.” I replied as WM and I locked eyes.
“We are going to have so much fun. I can hardly wait” He beamed proudly.
“Yeah,” I forced a smile as WM and I continued to stare at each other. “Things are
about to get very interesting.”
|