The Hurting Circus Page 5

  “Long time,” said a familiar voice.

  Lenny stopped and turned slowly to see a face as familiar as the voice. Lenny stared at Babu. Babu stared back. It had been years since they’d laid eyes on each other. To Babu, Lenny looked different: thicker around the shoulders, and way stockier in general, with shorter hair and an overgrown beard. Lenny saw Babu as roughly the same as he remembered him. Huge and menacing.

  “What happened to your face?” Babu asked from his window.

  “What are you doing here?” Lenny asked from a safe distance. As far as Lenny knew, Babu wasn’t part of the deal that he had to complete. Lenny didn’t want his former giant colleague making things more complicated than they had to be.

  “Get in,” Babu said.

  The driver he was really waiting for was lying, unconscious, between two cars about a hundred feet away.

  “Who told you I was getting out?” Lenny asked. Babu leaned across and opened his passenger door. “No thanks,” Lenny said as he began to walk.

  Babu touched the gas pedal just enough to stay in line with Lenny. “You have no idea what’s been going on out here, do you?” Babu asked.

  That simple question made Lenny want to run, made him feel as if he was in danger. Babu pulled the van across Lenny’s path.

  “I’m not asking you again. Get in the fucking van.”

  Lenny took one last look around for other options—other getaways—but there was nothing else. “What are you doing here?” Lenny asked.

  “I’m here to change your mind on that deal,” Babu said. “One way or another.”

  1984.

  Two hours after Lenny got out.

  New York.

  Babu drove with Lenny, silent, beside him. Even though he had the driver’s seat pushed back as far as it would go, Babu could still feel the steering wheel get lost in his growing gut. It was the result of a man who had all but given up.

  As the miles ticked along, the sky got a little more overcast, and the scenery got more remote. Lenny couldn’t figure out whether he was being driven by a friend or not; Babu was too quiet to give any indication. There was once a time when Lenny would have just known, but a lot of things had happened since Babu and Lenny had last seen each other. Some of those things they were both aware of—but others they chose to keep to themselves.

  From the corner of his eye, Lenny could see that the giant looked older, and much heavier. Even the simple act of shifting in his seat made Babu wince in pain. His features were more pronounced: his jaw was larger, and his cheekbones seemed to be protruding a lot more. He had that tired look of someone who was always in agony, but even though the giant had changed, he was still the man who, years before, had come to like Lenny.

  Lenny hoped that was still the case.

  Babu turned from the highway and headed down a smaller, darker road. After passing a couple of wooden houses, the scenery soon became nothing but trees, hills, and neglected roads. Babu began to slow down as he looked out his window for a specific spot. After a minute or two of searching, he pushed on the brakes and the van jerked to a stop.

  “I’m asking you to not sell to Tanner Blackwell,” Babu said.

  “I have no choice,” Lenny replied.

  “You’re just going to have to trust me,” Babu said.

  Maybe years before there would have been enough trust—maybe before all that happened had happened—but not anymore.

  Babu carefully exited the van, his huge feet dropping down onto a bed of wet leaves. There was no one around to witness anything, only hundreds of thousands of tall, skinny birch trees. Lenny had heard, years ago, that this was how they killed Proctor King. They brought him to a place that sounded a lot like where Lenny now found himself.

  “Out,” Babu said as he walked around to Lenny’s side of the van. Lenny seriously weighed his situation before he joined Babu outside.

  “What are we doing?” Lenny asked. He was terrified of the answer.

  “You made a promise to him,” Babu said.

  “Who?” Lenny asked.

  “Danno. And I want you to keep it.”

  “What are you talking about?” Lenny asked.

  Babu took a step in and towered over Lenny. “We all have to protect the business. That’s what we all signed up for when we were let in.”

  Lenny shook his head. “I just want to get my money,” he said. “And head on my way. I don’t give a fuck about the wrestling business.”

  “We can get you money, if that’s all you want,” Babu said.

  For a split second, Lenny was curious as to who “we” was. He very briefly wondered what side Babu was on. “I’ve already made the deal,” Lenny said.

  “I can’t let you sell us out,” Babu replied. “New York can’t get taken over by Tanner. Simple as that.” Babu put his huge hand on Lenny’s shoulder and pushed him toward the forest. Lenny took twenty or thirty slow, silent steps; the quiet was unnerving. In a place like this Lenny knew that there might not be anyone around for miles.

  “I’m not going to let you kill me,” Lenny said over his shoulder.

  Babu could only laugh at Lenny’s statement. “Keep walking, you piece of shit,” he said as he pushed Lenny in the back.

  Lenny staggered forward, but then stopped, firm. “I’m not taking another fucking step,” Lenny said. He turned around and prayed that there wasn’t a gun pointed in his direction. There wasn’t.

  “Where’s your loyalty?” Babu asked.

  “I already gave Tanner my word.”

  “What do you think is going to happen once you sign the papers?” Babu asked.

  Lenny replied, “I know what happens if I don’t sign them.”

  Babu moved closer. “New York isn’t yours to sell.”

  “Whatever it’s worth, I earned it,” Lenny said.

  Babu grabbed Lenny by the collar. His hamlike fist was half the size of Lenny’s head. “And how did you earn it, exactly?” the giant asked.

  Lenny knew that Babu thought he was inferring that he’d earned it by killing Danno. “I didn’t mean—”

  Before Lenny could finish his sentence, Babu slapped him across the face. The force of the blow lifted Lenny off his feet and dropped him onto his back. The left side of Lenny’s head went instantly numb and his ear buzzed in a partial deafness, like a bomb had just gone off beside him.

  “How did you fucking earn it?” Babu asked, as he stomped toward Lenny. Lenny struggled to get to his feet, but he managed to just before the giant got to him again. Lenny threw a punch that landed. Babu was stunned—not from the force, but by the fact that Lenny dared to hit him in the first place. Lenny backpedaled quickly with his fists still up. Anytime Babu got too close, Lenny would fire off another shot.

  “All the history, and the blood spilled, and you’re going to hand it to Tanner?” Babu asked. Lenny slipped momentarily and Babu closed in close enough to grab him by the throat. Lenny smashed two more shots to Babu’s head before Babu pinned Lenny against a tree trunk. The grip strength of Babu’s hands immediately immobilized his much smaller opponent.

  Babu hoisted Lenny up into air as Lenny tried scratching at Babu’s face and eyes. The giant head-butted Lenny in the sternum. It sounded like a cannonball hitting a bamboo shield. Any small reserve of breath that Lenny had was driven from his body.

  “You’re not going to take this from us. Do you hear me?” Babu shouted as he drove Lenny, time and again, into the tree.

  Lenny began to fade under the sheer force of Babu’s attack. The last thing Lenny saw before losing consciousness was the pain in Babu’s face.

  As much as Babu wanted to continue to rag-doll Lenny, his body wasn’t able. He dropped Lenny and fell helplessly to one knee. Years of wrestling, and his body growing out of control, made for a lot of nerve damage and compression of the spinal column. When he broke into the wrestling business, the giant could lift several people per arm—but he was now regularly defeated by lifting anything more than a few pounds at a time.


  Babu fell forward. “Lenny?” he asked. He couldn’t turn over to see if Lenny was still alive. “Lenny?”

  There was panicked silence, as Lenny tried to suck in any breath he could.

  “Are you okay?” Babu asked.

  Lenny didn’t answer; he couldn’t, even if he wanted to.

  Babu was somewhat soothed by the fact that he could hear Lenny gasping for air behind him. It didn’t sound smooth, but at least he was breathing.

  As Babu cooled down and his adrenaline levels began to lower, he could feel a pain in the top of his head. He dabbed the area with his fingers to see that Lenny had drawn blood; there was a nice opening in the top of Babu’s skull. Babu was half-proud and half-disgusted. The Lenny Long he had known would never be capable, or even want to be capable, of such a thing. But Babu was quickly coming to the realization that the man moving behind him wasn’t the Lenny Long that he had known—not even close.

  The giant found it hard to move. His back was in such excruciating pain that he had spent the better part of the last five years trying to drink it better. “Lenny?” he called from the ground. Babu could hear footsteps coming closer to him. He tried to roll over to see what was happening, because Lenny’s silence was making him wary, to say the least.

  As he began to roll over, Babu saw a flash of gray in his peripheral vision. Lenny had taken a thick branch from the ground and smashed it across Babu’s shoulder and the side of his head. The giant threw up his hands in self-defense. He pushed himself through agony to make it to his stomach, where he could struggle to all fours. Lenny was scouring the ground for another, bigger weapon.

  “Stop!” Babu shouted. He could see in Lenny’s eyes that Lenny was afraid, enraged, tired, and tormented, all at the same time. Babu pushed himself onto his knees and managed to lunge his huge right fist at Lenny. It connected, and Lenny fell like a dropped curtain.

  Babu could only moan loudly in agony himself. He just knelt there and watched Lenny’s fingers curl as he drifted further into unconsciousness. The giant hauled himself toward Lenny to make sure that he hadn’t bitten or swallowed his own tongue. “I’m sorry,” the giant whispered in Lenny’s ear.

  Lenny snapped back to consciousness and tried immediately to get up. Babu held him firmly to the ground beside him. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Babu said in a calming voice. Lenny, panicked as to what had happened, and where he was, began to piece together his last five minutes.

  “Take it easy,” Babu said as he dragged Lenny closer to him.

  From his back, Lenny could see the trees and the sky overhead. He knew that he was a long way from prison, and a long way from home.

  1984.

  Seven hours after Lenny got out.

  New York.

  Babu and Lenny were on the Washington Bridge, coming into the city. Both men were bruised and sore. They hadn’t said a word to each other since they’d left the forest. Babu could feel that Lenny wanted to say something; Lenny could feel the same thing from Babu.

  Someone needed to go first. After hours of silence, it was Lenny. “What option did I have?” he asked as he cleared his throat. “I loved Danno like a father. He told me that he was going to kill my wife if I didn’t—”

  “I know what happened,” Babu said. “I don’t want to talk about it.” The giant turned to see a few tears make their way over Lenny’s bruised face.

  Lenny quickly wiped his cheeks; those tears had been twelve years coming, and only three seconds lasting. “I fought for my life in that prison,” Lenny said. “I begged more than one person to let me live. I fucking hated myself for not being bigger or tougher.” Lenny pretended to look out the window so he could cry in silence for another couple of seconds. He continued, “They would take weeks to break me. They’d threaten me, not let me sleep, and not let me eat. I was their fucking entertainment.” Lenny turned to see if Babu cared, but his face wasn’t easy to read. “And I cursed you into hell and back a hundred fucking times,” Lenny said. “Where were you? Where was Ricky? I know what I did—and I wanted to pay for it. I have paid for it over and over and over again. But where the fuck were you guys?”

  Babu didn’t answer.

  “So what choice did I have?” Lenny asked. “I served my time. I waited, and—nothing. My team wasn’t fucking coming to rescue me. So I took Tanner’s offer to get out and get paid—the only offer I had.”

  “We didn’t just cut rope on you, Lenny,” Babu said.

  “Well, it sure as fuck felt like it.”

  The cracked roads shook Babu and Lenny in the van, and the loud honking of New York City outside kept them alert. Lenny hadn’t seen his beautiful mess of a city in a long time. She seemed as dirty as ever, but a little happier, and maybe a bit richer, too. There were more nice cars and suits out and about. People looked shinier—brighter.

  “I don’t even know where I’m supposed to be,” Lenny said.

  “I do,” Babu replied.

  As they got closer to the deal, Babu wished that he’d had a better plan. The giant thought it wouldn’t be too hard to change Lenny’s mind—not the old Lenny, anyway.

  Babu pulled into the building site. It was a metal skeleton of a huge building, half-covered, half-finished, standing tall in the gray sky over them. “Chrissy,” Lenny said, calling the giant by his real name, “All I want to do is go home to my family.”

  Babu couldn’t look at Lenny. He understood where Lenny was coming from, but the giant had a job to do.

  Lenny got out of the van. There were only a couple of cars on the site and no immediate sound of banging or sawing or general work going on. There was, however, the hum of music: loud music that came from the back of the unfinished building.

  Lenny walked to the mouth of the building without looking back. Exposed plastic sheeting flapped in the wind as Lenny kept his eyes on dark openings and any other place that might be hiding someone. The music grew louder. Babu drove off. Lenny wanted him to stay, but said nothing as the van left the parking lot. Across the road, Donta Veal watched the proceedings.

  Inside the building shell, Lenny was met by a man who pushed Lenny toward the stairs.

  “You Percy?” Lenny asked. “I was told to wait for Percy.”

  Percy nodded. “This way,” he said.

  As soon as Lenny took the first step up the bare concrete stairs, he heard the click of a hammer being cocked behind him. “Move,” Percy said, holding a gun behind Lenny’s head.

  “You know that’s not necessary,” Lenny replied.

  “Why’s that?”

  Lenny began to take the dusty exposed stairs. “Because you’re bringing me somewhere I want to go,” he said.

  Percy was kind of put out. He wanted to use his gun. “How do you know you’re going where you want to go?”

  “Are you bringing me to see Tanner Blackwell?” Lenny asked.

  There was a pause. “Yeah,” Percy mumbled.

  “Then I’m going where I want to go,” Lenny said.

  “Shut up, you faggot,” Percy snapped.

  Lenny and Percy went through a doorway into a room that was just a concrete box with exposed steel in the ceiling and square openings in the walls for the windows. The only piece of furniture in the whole place was a makeshift table in the middle of the room, with a bag underneath.

  Lenny saw Tanner Blackwell first. He was sure that the man looking out the windowless square was, indeed, the boss from the Carolinas. He was older, skinnier, and more brittle-looking, but he was definitely Tanner. Also in attendance were Danno’s former lawyer, Troy Bartlett, and two men whom Lenny recognized as the Botchco brothers at the other side of the room. They had been handsome new wrestlers when Lenny last saw them—but now they were beetroot-red, balding, and three times the size they had once been.

  Tanner smiled when he saw Lenny approaching. “We didn’t think you were coming, seeing as how poor Percy here was knocked silly outside the prison this morning.”

  Lenny knew that had been Babu’s work.
He glanced at Percy, who dropped his head in shame. Lenny could see himself in Percy—his old self. Percy was a simple, young, scrawny kid trying to make his way into the wrestling business.

  “I’m just here to collect my money and leave quietly,” Lenny replied.

  Tanner turned from the window opening and took his first good look at a free Lenny. “Well, you’ll forgive us for thinking that you weren’t coming,” Tanner said. “Anyone associated with Danno Garland is an immediate traitor and liar, in my eyes.”

  Lenny took the contract from his pocket: it was creased, a little damp, and folded on the edges. “Do you want to do this or not?” Lenny asked.

  Tanner smiled at Lenny’s forthrightness. “Yes, sir.”

  Lenny couldn’t help but notice the Botchco brothers pulling their best heel wrestler faces in the background. Troy took the contract and laid it on the table. The noise from the city was comforting to Lenny; he had missed it. He’d also missed the smell, which was one that only New York could cook up. It drifted its way into the building on a light breeze, which blew the edge of the contract up from the table.

  “You know what I’m putting here?” Tanner asked. Lenny didn’t really care. He just walked toward the papers to sign his name.

  Tanner turned to the Botchcos to see if they noticed Lenny ignoring him, too; they had. Lenny’s perceived ignorance was beginning to roil Tanner, and anything that roiled Tanner roiled his men, too. “Did you hear me asking you a question?” Tanner said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah, what?”

  “Yeah, I heard you. Now have you got my money?” Lenny said.

  Tanner pointed to the briefcase under the makeshift table. “Spoken like a true New Yorker. Danno must have been so proud of you, huh?” Tanner laughed, which meant that the Botchcos laughed. Percy followed, too, a little behind them. Lenny wasn’t laughing.

  “It’s little fucks like you who poison our business,” Tanner said. “No fucking respect.” Tanner opened the contract to where Lenny needed to sign.