Chronicle 16
A knock echoed through the condo.
Joanna looked up from the kitchen.
"I'll get it."
She opened the door.
Standing outside was a tall man wearing a dark blue Peace
jacket over plain clothes.
He smiled warmly.
"Good afternoon."
"Elian."
Joanna smiled.
"Come on in."
"Routine visit."
"I figured."
As he stepped inside, two voices immediately rang out from
the living room.
"Keanu!"
Elian sighed dramatically.
"I was wondering how long that would take."
Phoebe laughed.
"You really do look like him."
"I've been told."
"For years."
Armintie tilted her head.
"So..."
She asked very seriously.
"...have you ever done Bullet Time?"
Joanna couldn't resist joining in.
"Or dodged bullets in Bullet Time?"
Elian rubbed his lower back.
"No."
"...and if I tried..."
"...my back would never forgive me."
The girls laughed.
"So no kung fu either?" Joanna asked.
"I took one self-defence course."
"Does that count?"
"It depends."
"Against Agent Smith?"
"Definitely not."
Joanna stepped aside.
"You're lucky."
"I hear he's difficult."
"I've read the reports."
Elian deadpanned.
"I decided not to investigate."
The laughter made the visit feel less like an inspection and
more like an old friend dropping by.
He accepted a cup of coffee before opening a small notebook.
"All right."
"Business."
He smiled apologetically.
"I have to ask."
He looked first at Phoebe.
"How are you settling in?"
She smiled.
"Really well."
"I like Cleveland."
"I still miss Dad."
"...and Arel-Sin."
"...but..."
She looked toward Joanna.
"...I'm happy here."
Elian made a brief note.
"School registration?"
"Almost finished," Joanna answered.
"We're just waiting on one document."
"Excellent."
He turned to Armintie.
"...and you?"
Armintie smiled brightly.
"I like it."
"I've never seen so many buses."
"...or elevators."
"...or restaurants."
"...or pigeons."
Elian nodded.
"Those are certainly some of Cleveland's defining
characteristics."
Armintie became a little quieter.
"There is one problem."
"Oh?"
She pointed toward the living room.
"Fido likes Phoebe more."
Phoebe looked offended.
"He does not."
"He sleeps on your bed."
"Sometimes."
"He follows you."
"Sometimes."
"He wagged his tail at you first this morning."
Joanna chuckled.
"I don't think dogs keep score."
"They absolutely do," Armintie insisted.
Elian smiled.
"I've investigated many serious disputes."
"This..."
He looked thoughtfully at Fido, who had wandered over and
was now lying happily across both girls' feet.
"...doesn't strike me as one of them."
Armintie looked down.
Fido had somehow managed to position himself so that one paw
rested on her foot and another on Phoebe's.
She smiled despite herself.
"...Maybe he likes both of us."
"I believe," Elian said, closing his notebook,
"that is my professional opinion."
Joanna laughed.
"Good."
"I'd hate to have to mediate a custody battle over a
golden retriever."
"I charge by the hour."
"You do not."
"I don't."
Everyone laughed.
Elian slipped the notebook back into his jacket.
"Well."
"I've seen what I needed to see."
Joanna raised an eyebrow.
"Which is?"
He looked around the condo.
The girls were relaxed.
The kitchen smelled like dinner.
Fido was snoring contentedly.
Joanna looked tired.
...but she also looked happy.
He smiled.
"A family."
Joanna's expression softened.
"...Thank you."
Elian nodded.
"Keep doing what you're doing."
"I think you're all going to be just fine."
As he reached the door, Armintie called after him.
"Bye, Keanu!"
Elian didn't even turn around.
"It's Elian."
A beat.
"...but I'll answer to Keanu."
The door closed.
Joanna smiled to herself.
"I think he secretly likes it."
Outside in the hallway, Elian shook his head and chuckled.
"...Maybe a little."
The music department was far quieter than the wrestling gym.
Rows of guitars lined one wall.
Keyboards occupied another.
The centrepiece of the room was a recording workstation
dominated by three large computer monitors.
John Fivestone waved Joanna over.
"Welcome to the fun part."
Joanna raised an eyebrow.
"After trying on those outfits?"
"...Fair point."
She sat beside him.
"So..."
John cracked his knuckles dramatically.
"Here's how this works."
He tapped the keyboard.
"You tell me what you're looking for."
"I build something."
"We listen."
"If it stinks..."
He shrugged.
"...we throw it away."
"If it almost works..."
"...we tweak it."
"...and once everyone's happy?"
"I get real musicians to record it."
Joanna looked at the screen.
"So today's just a demo?"
"Exactly."
"The computers are fast."
"The musicians are better."
She smiled.
"I like that philosophy."
John opened the music software.
"All right."
"Let's start with the obvious."
He sighed.
"Vince wants..."
"...a sexy entrance."
Joanna nodded.
"I don't mind sexy."
John looked surprised.
"You don't?"
"No."
She thought for a moment.
"I mind empty."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't want Sugar Cane to be somebody's arm
candy."
She leaned back.
"I want people to look at her and think..."
"...she knows exactly how attractive she is..."
"...and she doesn't need anyone's permission."
John stopped typing.
"I like that."
Joanna smiled.
"To me..."
"...Sugar Cane is the blue rose."
"The one nobody can have."
"The one that's always just out of reach."
John nodded slowly.
"So..."
"Confident."
"Dangerous."
"Playful."
"...but..."
"...never desperate."
"Exactly."
His fingers danced across the keyboard.
A beat began.
Light.
Bouncy.
Sweet.
Joanna listened for fifteen seconds.
"No."
John immediately hit delete.
"Too sugary."
Another attempt.
This one was slower.
Heavier.
Almost sinister.
She shook her head.
"Too serious."
Delete.
Third attempt.
Dance beat.
Electronic synths.
A catchy hook.
She nodded.
"Closer."
John adjusted the tempo.
Changed the bass.
Added guitars.
Removed them.
Added claps.
Removed those too.
The afternoon slowly disappeared.
Every version brought them a little closer.
Eventually...
John leaned back.
The newest demo filled the room.
It carried a playful swagger.
Confident rather than flirtatious.
Danceable without sounding disposable.
It felt less like someone asking for attention...
...and more like someone daring the audience to keep up.
Joanna smiled.
"There."
John looked over.
"There?"
She nodded.
"That's Sugar Cane."
He played it again.
Then again.
Finally he grinned.
"I think we've got it."
Joanna sat quietly for another moment before speaking.
"I have one more request."
"Shoot."
"I want to sing it."
John turned in his chair.
"You sing?"
"I used to."
"When?"
"School."
"I had a band before wrestling."
"I've never recorded professionally."
"...but I'd like to try."
John studied her for several seconds.
Then smiled.
"You know..."
"I wasn't aware of that."
"I don't advertise it."
He nodded.
"Well..."
He clicked open another folder.
"Everybody gets one shot."
Joanna laughed.
"Only one?"
"The second one depends on the first."
"Fair enough."
He stood.
"I'll book some studio time."
"No promises."
"No pressure."
"If it works..."
He smiled.
"...people won't just hear Sugar Cane."
"They'll hear Joanna too."
For the first time since Vince had unveiled the gimmick,
Joanna felt something unexpected.
Excitement.
Not because Sugar Cane was becoming the character Vince
imagined.
Because, piece by piece...
She was becoming the character she imagined.
Two days later, Joanna found herself standing outside Studio
Three.
She stared at the small illuminated sign.
RECORDING
"This suddenly feels different."
John Fivestone looked up from the mixing desk.
"You've done camera work."
"I know."
"I've recorded vignettes."
"I've done interviews."
"I've shouted into microphones."
He smiled.
"This isn't shouting."
"No."
She looked through the glass into the vocal booth.
"...It's singing."
Somehow...
That felt far more personal.
John handed her a pair of headphones.
"Relax."
"I'll play the demo."
"You don't have to be perfect."
"We're not making the final record today."
She nodded.
"I know."
"...I just wish my stomach knew."
John laughed.
"Fair."
She stepped into the booth.
The headphones settled over her ears.
The microphone stood directly in front of her.
Suddenly it felt enormous.
John's voice crackled through the headphones.
"Comfortable?"
"I think so."
"Good."
"I'm rolling."
The instrumental began.
The beat she'd helped create filled her ears.
She took a breath.
Missed her first cue.
"...Sorry."
John smiled.
"Again."
The music restarted.
She came in too early.
Stopped.
Laughed nervously.
"Nope."
"Again."
The third attempt wasn't much better.
She found the melody.
Lost the rhythm.
Forgot half a line.
Winced.
"I'm sorry."
John leaned toward the microphone.
"Jo."
"Yeah?"
"You're thinking."
"I have to."
"No."
"You don't."
She frowned.
"What?"
"You're trying to sing correctly."
"I want you to sing honestly."
She looked unconvinced.
"I'm serious."
"Forget me."
"Forget the microphones."
"Forget Vince."
"Forget the Academy."
"Just tell the story."
He restarted the track.
Joanna closed her eyes.
Still...
Her shoulders remained tight.
She missed another entrance.
"...Sorry."
She sighed.
"I can't do this."
She rested one hand against the microphone stand.
Then...
Almost without thinking...
She remembered another voice.
"Focus."
Zas.
"Shut out the noise."
"Do not force it."
"One step."
"Then another."
"Trust yourself."
She slowly inhaled.
Opened her eyes.
Smiled.
"One more."
John simply nodded.
The music began again.
This time...
She didn't count.
She didn't analyze.
She just listened.
When her cue arrived...
She stepped into it naturally.
The hesitation disappeared.
Her voice wasn't the biggest.
It wasn't the most technically perfect.
...but it had warmth.
Confidence.
Playfulness.
The kind of voice that sounded like it belonged to someone
who knew exactly who she was.
John stopped taking notes.
By the second verse...
He was simply listening.
The final note faded.
Silence filled the studio.
Joanna slowly removed one side of the headphones.
"...Well?"
John blinked.
"You've done this before."
"I told you."
"No."
"I mean properly."
She laughed.
"No."
"I sang in school."
"I had a little band before wrestling."
"...but..."
She shrugged.
"Wrestling happened."
John leaned back in his chair.
"...That's a shame."
Joanna tilted her head.
"Why?"
"Because you're good."
She smiled.
"I'm not that good."
"No."
He agreed immediately.
"You're not."
She blinked.
"...Thanks?"
He laughed.
"I mean you're not trying to be the greatest singer in
the world."
"You're telling a story."
"...and people believe you."
"I can teach technique."
"I can't teach that."
Joanna looked through the glass at him.
"I always wanted to sing."
She admitted it so quietly she almost surprised herself.
"Before wrestling."
John nodded.
"I believe you."
He reached for the keyboard.
The session automatically saved.
A file name appeared on the monitor.
SC_THEME_DEMO_04
John frowned.
"...That's boring."
He clicked once.
The cursor blinked.
"What should we call it?"
Joanna looked through the studio window.
She didn't answer immediately.
Then she smiled.
"The Blue Rose."
John stopped typing.
He looked up.
"That's perfect."
He pressed Enter.
The new file name appeared.
The Blue Rose (Working Demo)
Joanna stared at it for a long moment.
It wasn't just the title of a song anymore.
It was becoming the identity she'd been searching for.
Not Vince's Sugar Cane.
Not Bork's Sugar Cane.
Not even the audience's Sugar Cane.
Her Sugar Cane.
The following week, Bork found himself making alterations
for the third time.
He didn't mind.
This was part of the process.
Joanna stood in front of a mirror wearing the latest version
of Sugar Cane's gear.
It was still unmistakably Sugar Cane.
Still glamorous.
Still eye-catching.
Still revealing enough to satisfy Vince McGeady's vision.
...but...
It was changing.
"What if..."
Joanna pointed toward one side of the top.
"...we worked a blue rose into the stitching?"
Bork nodded thoughtfully.
"Embroidery?"
"Maybe."
"Or a subtle pattern."
He made a note.
"I like that."
"...and..."
She hesitated.
"I was thinking..."
"...a blue rose here."
She pointed to the centre of her chest.
Bork smiled sympathetically.
"I can already tell you Vince's answer."
"...Too much fabric?"
"He'll want cleavage."
Joanna sighed.
"I figured."
She thought for another moment.
"All right."
"What if..."
She turned around.
"...we put it here?"
She pointed to the back of her wrestling trunks.
Bork tilted his head.
Then smiled.
"...Actually."
"...that fits."
"It does?"
"It gives people something to remember."
"It also makes it feel..."
He searched for the word.
"...hidden."
Joanna smiled.
"Exactly."
"The Blue Rose isn't supposed to announce itself."
"It reveals itself."
Bork scribbled another note.
"I can work with that."
Before he could continue, another woman entered carrying a
thick binder.
"Am I interrupting?"
Joanna smiled.
"Cathy."
"Perfect timing."
Cathy Greenwall set the binder on the table.
Officially she was the WFE's Creative Director.
Unofficially...
She preferred another title.
"I usually tell people I'm a consultant."
Joanna laughed.
"Why?"
Cathy smiled knowingly.
"Because Vince has final say."
"Always."
"My job is to give him good ideas."
"Whether he uses them..."
She shrugged.
"...is another matter."
She opened the binder.
"So."
"The Total Babes."
Several pages contained sketches.
Character notes.
Story ideas.
Potential rivalries.
"I've been thinking about you..."
She pointed toward Joanna's page.
"...and Cotton Candy."
Joanna nodded.
"What about us?"
"I think the two of you work beautifully
together."
"Cotton is fearless."
"Impulsive."
"She runs into trouble because it looks fun."
Joanna laughed.
"That sounds like Carly."
"I imagined Sugar being..."
Cathy paused.
"...the methodical one."
"The planner."
"The one always thinking three steps ahead."
Joanna considered it.
Then slowly shook her head.
"I actually think it's the opposite."
"Oh?"
"Carly absolutely has a mischievous streak."
"...but..."
Joanna smiled.
"...I met the love of my life because I did something
incredibly bold."
"I crossed half the world."
"I challenged a mountain warrior."
"I adopted two daughters."
"I don't think Sugar should be cautious."
She tapped the Blue Rose sketch.
"I think she should be fearless."
"...but not reckless."
"There's a difference."
Cathy nodded, intrigued.
"Go on."
"I don't want Sugar looking stupid."
"I don't want Cotton having to rescue her because she's
made another bad decision."
"I'd rather..."
She thought carefully.
"...Sugar is the one willing to take the first
step."
"The impossible step."
"...and Cotton?"
"The voice of reason."
"...but..."
Joanna smiled.
"Not because she's smarter."
"Because every bold person needs someone willing to
ask..."
"'Have you actually thought this through?'"
Cathy laughed.
"I like that much better."
She grabbed a pen.
"What about the Blue Rose?"
Joanna's expression softened.
"I've been thinking about her a lot."
"'Her?'"
"The Blue Rose."
Joanna nodded.
"I don't think she's just part of the entrance
anymore."
"I think..."
"...she's Sugar Cane's alter ego."
"The side people never quite understand."
"Playful."
"Desirable."
"Confident."
"Mysterious."
"The woman everyone wants..."
"...but nobody can quite reach."
Cathy stopped writing.
For several seconds she simply looked at Joanna.
Then she smiled.
"I think..."
She quietly closed the binder.
"...you've just figured your character out."
Joanna looked back at herself in the mirror.
The outfit hadn't changed very much.
...but somehow...
The woman wearing it had.
Sugar Cane was no longer just a gimmick Vince McGeady had
handed her.
She was becoming someone Joanna understood.
Someone Joanna could believe in.
The Blue Rose.
The final piece remained.
The entrance.
The music existed.
The gear existed.
The Blue Rose existed.
Now Joanna had to make all three become one person.
The Academy's entrance stage wasn't nearly as elaborate as
Combat Arts', but it was large enough to rehearse.
Triple X sat halfway up the empty seating area with a
notebook.
Beside him sat Joey Ace, one of the Academy's producers and
a former wrestler whose greatest talent now seemed to be noticing details
nobody else did.
"You ready?" X called.
Joanna took one last breath.
"As I'll ever be."
The lights dimmed.
John Fivestone's demo began to play through the arena
speakers.
The opening beat echoed throughout the building.
Joanna stepped through the curtain.
She wore her hair in two high pigtails.
Over her wrestling gear was a sleeveless white blouse tied
just above the waist.
A large embroidered blue rose rested over the left side.
Her short pleated skirt carried subtle blue rose patterns
woven into the fabric.
Blue roses climbed the fishnet stockings almost like vines.
Even her wrestling boots had been redesigned to resemble
polished school loafers.
Only someone looking carefully would notice the halter-style
wrestling top beneath the blouse.
Or the blue rose embroidered over her heart.
Or the matching rose hidden on the back of her trunks.
She smiled.
Skipped twice.
Twirled the oversized lollipop between her fingers.
Then licked it with an exaggerated grin before continuing
down the ramp.
There wasn't an ounce of embarrassment in her movements.
She wasn't trying to shock people.
She was inviting them into her game.
Halfway down the aisle she stopped.
Looked toward one side of the empty arena.
Placed both hands on her hips.
Then slowly swayed them with a teasing confidence before
turning toward the opposite side and repeating the gesture.
She reached ringside.
Paused in front of the hard camera.
Looked directly into the lens.
A mischievous smile spread across her face.
Another playful sway.
Then she climbed onto the apron.
Before stepping through the ropes she glanced toward Triple
X.
Without breaking eye contact...
She gave him one last exaggerated hip shake.
Joey burst out laughing.
Triple X simply shook his head.
"You knew exactly where I was sitting."
"I might have guessed."
Inside the ring Joanna walked calmly to the centre.
The music reached its final chorus.
She lowered the lollipop.
Folded one arm behind her back.
Lifted her chin.
And smiled.
Not a friendly smile.
A knowing one.
The kind that seemed to say...
"You can look."
"You just can't have me."
The music faded.
Silence.
Then applause.
Triple X closed his notebook.
"I like it."
Joanna exhaled.
"...but..."
She laughed.
"There's always a 'but.'"
"There is."
He walked down toward ringside.
"I think you're finding the character."
"I just want a little more interaction."
"Don't rush to the ring."
"Own the ramp."
"Make them wait for you."
Joanna nodded thoughtfully.
"I can do that."
Joey leaned against the apron.
"I've got one."
"The lollipop."
Joanna looked down at it.
"What about it?"
"I wouldn't throw it away."
"You wouldn't?"
He shook his head.
"It isn't just candy."
"It's part of the character."
"If Sugar Cane enjoys annoying people..."
He smiled.
"...she'd keep licking it all the way to the
ring."
Joanna laughed.
"That's somehow even more obnoxious."
"Exactly."
"...and afterward?"
"We'll have someone hand you a little bag."
"Or just keep one behind the curtain."
"No point making the prop disposable."
Triple X nodded.
"I actually agree."
Joanna twirled the lollipop again.
"You know..."
"...that is kind of funny."
"It tells people she's perfectly happy making everyone
else wait."
Joey snapped his fingers.
"Now you're thinking like a heel."
Joanna smiled.
"I don't actually think she's a heel."
"No?"
Triple X asked.
She looked back toward the stage where she'd just entered.
"I think..."
"...she enjoys keeping people guessing."
X smiled.
"The Blue Rose."
Joanna nodded.
"The Blue Rose."
Triple X closed his notebook.
"I think Vince is going to like this."
Joanna looked down at the blue rose stitched over her heart.
For the first time since Vince had pitched Sugar Cane...
She wasn't rehearsing someone else's character anymore.
She was introducing her own.
Three days later...
The Academy suddenly became much quieter.
Word had spread.
Vince McGeady was in the building.
Nobody announced his arrival.
Nobody needed to.
People simply stood a little straighter.
Triple X glanced toward Joanna.
"You ready?"
She swallowed.
"...No."
"Good."
"That means you care."
A door opened near the back of the arena.
Vince walked in carrying nothing more than a notebook and a
bottle of water.
He wasn't an imposing man physically.
His reputation did all the heavy lifting.
Without saying a word he climbed into the front row.
Triple X, Joey Ace, Bork, Cathy Greenwall and John Fivestone
exchanged nervous glances.
Joanna noticed.
"You all look terrified."
Bork smiled weakly.
"We've all been fired at least once."
"I wasn't."
"You will be."
Joanna laughed nervously.
"Places."
Triple X called.
The lights dimmed.
John's opening music filled the arena.
Joanna stepped through the curtain.
Everything she'd practiced flowed naturally.
The skipping.
The playful smile.
The slow walk down the ramp.
The teasing glances toward imaginary fans.
She worked both sides of the arena.
Stopped in front of the hard camera.
Then...
Seeing Vince sitting alone...
She walked directly toward him.
She bent slightly at the waist.
Looked him squarely in the eyes.
Then, with the tiniest mischievous grin...
Slowly rolled her hips.
Never breaking eye contact.
Vince didn't react.
Not even a smile.
Joanna simply continued toward the ring.
She finished the entrance exactly as rehearsed.
The final pose.
The Blue Rose smile.
Silence.
The music faded.
Nobody spoke.
Triple X looked at Vince.
Joey looked at Vince.
Bork looked at Vince.
Even John stopped pretending to organize cables.
Vince remained seated.
His notebook stayed closed.
Finally...
He stood.
Walked toward the ring.
"You figured her out."
Joanna blinked.
"...I did?"
"You did."
He nodded toward Cathy.
"Good work."
Toward Bork.
"Looks good."
Toward John.
"Music's a keeper."
John quietly exhaled.
Then Vince looked back at Joanna.
"The blue roses."
"What about them?"
"What do they mean?"
Joanna smiled.
"The Blue Rose."
"The one nobody can have."
"The mystery."
"The part of Sugar Cane people keep chasing."
Vince nodded slowly.
"I like that."
He paused.
"No."
"I really like that."
He started pacing.
"If we're doing Blue Rose..."
"...let's lean into it."
Everyone immediately reached for notebooks.
"First."
He pointed toward the oversized lollipop.
"Lose it."
Joanna looked surprised.
"You don't like it?"
"I don't dislike it."
"...but everybody throws something into the
crowd."
He mimed tossing an object.
"You?"
He smiled.
"Carry a blue rose."
"A real one."
"Or one we make."
"When you're halfway down the ramp..."
He made another throwing motion.
"Throw it into the audience."
"Somebody catches it."
"They'll treasure it."
"The Blue Rose."
Joanna slowly nodded.
"I actually like that."
"Good."
"Second."
He pointed toward the speakers.
"The music."
"It's great."
John smiled proudly.
"...but it needs an opening."
"What kind?"
"The crowd should know it's you before the beat
drops."
He snapped his fingers.
"Glass breaking."
"Bell ringing."
"Something."
He looked at Joanna.
"Maybe..."
He lowered his voice slightly.
"...you whisper..."
"'I'm here.'"
He shrugged.
"Or..."
"'Hey, baby.'"
"The second they hear it..."
He pointed toward the imaginary audience.
"They pop."
John was already making notes.
"I can do that."
"Third."
He looked back at Joanna's outfit.
"The blouse."
"The skirt."
"They're staying?"
"They're leaving."
Joanna frowned.
"...Leaving?"
"Not completely."
He walked halfway down the aisle.
"You wear them down the ramp."
"You work the crowd."
"Then..."
He pointed toward ringside.
"Take them off."
"Right there."
He smiled.
"It announces your arrival."
"Now the audience sees the wrestler."
"...and..."
He grinned.
"...the cameras get a better look at the entrance
gear."
Bork nodded.
"Actually..."
"...that's really clean."
"Fourth."
Vince looked directly at Joanna.
"I want them believing they almost have a chance."
She listened carefully.
"Blow kisses."
"Wink."
"Brush somebody's hand."
"If you're comfortable..."
"Touch someone's cheek."
"Not because you're flirting."
He shook his head.
"Because you're teasing."
"The Blue Rose lets people dream."
"...but..."
He smiled.
"...she never actually belongs to them."
Joanna's eyes widened slightly.
"...I understand."
"...and finally."
He crouched beside one boot.
He picked it up gently.
Turned it over.
The sole was plain black.
"Hm."
He looked at Bork.
"Blue rose."
"...On the bottom?"
"Right here."
He tapped the sole.
"When she kicks somebody..."
He looked back at Joanna.
"...the last thing they see..."
"...is the Blue Rose."
Silence.
Then Bork slowly smiled.
"I wish I'd thought of that."
"So do I," Cathy admitted.
Triple X laughed.
"That's why he owns the company."
Vince handed the boot back to Joanna.
"There."
He looked around at the entire group.
"Now she's complete."
Joanna looked down at the costume in her hands.
It wasn't the Sugar Cane Vince had originally imagined.
Nor was it entirely the one she had imagined.
Somehow...
It had become something better.
A collaboration.
The Blue Rose had bloomed.
The call came just before noon in Cleveland.
Which meant...
It was evening at Daral Lake.
Zas had only recently begun getting used to time zones.
At first they had seemed like magic.
Now they merely seemed inconvenient.
He wiped his hands on a cloth before answering the satellite
phone.
Around him, several goats continued wandering between the
fences while Azamat attempted to herd them with considerably more enthusiasm
than success.
"Left!"
Azamat shouted.
The goat went right.
"...I meant your other left."
Zas smiled as he answered.
"Hello."
"Hey."
Joanna's voice immediately brightened his mood.
"Busy?"
"Only watching Azamat lose an argument with a
goat."
"I'm losing!"
Azamat shouted in the background.
"The goat refuses to cooperate!"
"The goat appears to disagree."
Joanna laughed.
"I miss this place."
"So do we."
"So..."
"How's Sugar Cane?"
Joanna smiled.
"She's finally becoming real."
"Oh?"
"I performed the complete entrance today."
"For Vince."
Zas waited.
"...and?"
"He loved it."
"He still had changes."
"Of course."
"...but..."
She smiled to herself.
"...he liked what we'd created."
"The character isn't just his anymore."
"I actually like her."
Zas nodded.
"I knew you would."
"I wasn't nearly as confident."
"You never are."
She laughed.
"Fair."
"What about Daral Lake?"
"Everything is peaceful."
"Mostly."
He glanced toward Azamat.
"Your wrestling scholar remains hard at work."
Joanna laughed immediately.
"Still?"
"He has now informed several villagers about..."
Zas checked a small notebook.
"...'kay-fab.'"
She covered her face.
"Oh, Azamat..."
"He also attempted to explain the..."
He frowned.
"...En-zig-gurry."
"Enzuigiri."
"I was closer."
"You were."
"...and he remains convinced that the Stone Cold Bottom
is among wrestling's greatest techniques."
Joanna laughed again.
"I'm almost tempted not to correct him anymore."
"I have reached the same conclusion."
"He is enjoying Japanese wrestling enormously."
"So I've heard."
"He is also enjoying the communal Wi-Fi."
Zas sighed.
"Rather too much."
"He keeps reaching the daily time limit."
Joanna grinned.
"You're enforcing it?"
"I have to."
"The entire village wishes to use the computers."
"I cannot allow one man to consume all the bandwidth
watching wrestling."
"Tell him to download fewer matches."
"I do not know what that means."
She laughed.
"I'll explain another day."
"...and Arel-Sin?"
"He has returned to school."
"Eve is teaching again."
"How's he doing?"
"He is currently wrestling..."
Zas paused.
"...with algebra."
Joanna smiled.
"Winning?"
"I believe algebra is ahead on points."
She laughed.
"...and his attention span?"
"The usual."
"He pays close attention for approximately three
minutes."
"That sounds like him."
They both smiled.
Then Zas remembered something.
"Has Vince announced your first match?"
Joanna's smile faded slightly.
"...Not yet."
Zas nodded.
"I thought perhaps..."
"The Elder keeps asking."
"I know."
"He wishes to prepare."
"...but he cannot announce the feast until there is a
date."
"I understand."
"It isn't your fault."
"I know."
She sighed.
"The best I can tell you..."
"...is that there's a Premium Live Event in
Buffalo."
"I think..."
"...that's where The Total Babes will debut."
"...but..."
She laughed quietly.
"...it's Vince."
"I never know until he tells me."
Zas smiled.
"Then we shall continue preparing."
"...and when you know..."
"I'll call immediately."
"I promise."
"I know you will."
Azamat suddenly wandered into earshot carrying a shovel over
one shoulder.
"Ask if Goldsteen is wrestling."
Joanna burst into laughter.
"It's Goldstein!"
Azamat looked genuinely disappointed.
"I liked Goldsteen."
"I know you did," Zas replied.
Joanna could hear the smile in his voice.
She realized something.
For the first time since leaving the Blade...
This conversation hadn't been about missing one another.
Or sadness.
Or uncertainty.
It had simply been two people talking about their day.
...and somehow...
That ordinary little conversation made the thousands of
miles between them feel much smaller.