Post by HNDRXX on Jul 9, 2021 12:46:55 GMT -5
An Oral History of HNDRXX part one.
As presented by those who know him.
“Where should I start?”
Against the backdrop of the Northern Pro Wrestling digital banner, a single stool stands. Round and Padded, it has two lower wrap-around rungs to place feet. On which a single foot is rested, as a backward golf cap sits on the head of a man with a neatly trimmed beard speckled with gray, wearing a Brooklyn Nets jersey over a black long sleeve shirt and blue jeans.
He nods as he receives the answer.
“See, DeAndre, should I call him that?”
A sly smile.
“Okay, so you see, DeAndre must’ve been, what like seven or eight?”
He rubs his chin thoughtfully, neatly manicured nails idly scratching lightly.
“We was at the playground right? Him, my brother. Uh DeAndre’s father, Jack, and DeAndre’s little brother.
Anyways, it was one of those you know, civic project parks put up in the fifties in flatbush. Meanin’ it ain’t seen the maintenance man in about two generations. Everything was grey where it wasn’t orange and red. Feel me? It had one of those fences too. More hole than fence. Basketball court all cracks and chain nets, local dudes repainting the lines. Little daisies growin’ in them cracks off court too.
So, Jack an’ I, we loungin’. All of a sudden, this older kid come up on DeAndre’s little brother right. Jack put his hand across my chest to keep me from interfering you see. Cause when he slapped the basketball outta the hands. I’d have gone an’ give him a piece you know?”
He smiles fondly.
“See, but DeAndre, even at that age. He ain’t havin’ none of that. Something about DeAndre, he ain’t gonna sit by while anyone in any position of power try to take advantage.
So his brother, he start crying, cause that shit got his hands too. Anyways. DeAndre who ain’t never been big, an’ prolly half the age of this other dude, just jumps at him, like a spring. I don’t think DeAndre even knew what he was doing, but all of a sudden, he on this older kid man, for his brother. “
He laughs.
“Anyway. DeAndre way in over his head. You know? This isn’t some superhero comic book, or any of that science fiction he always reading. So this older kid. Just takes him to task. Jack keep holding me back.
Eventually, I think it only took a couple of punches. The older kid, right? He take a look at DeAndre, rub his head and say “young dude, you got heart.” He just walk off after that. Couple days later. We back at the park, and those dudes invite DeAndre and his brother over to watch ‘em ball. DeAndre always had that effect on people man.”
A woman, mid-twenties sits on the stool. Legs crossed, wearing very modern, very fashionable jeans. Black hair pressed straight. A British accent tinging her words.
“I met HNDRXX perhaps four years ago. I was at uni. I remember because it was exams. So I was stressed out. I think I started going to a different library because of being surrounded by other students from my department…”
Her eyebrows raise.
“Oh, it was physics.”
She nods.
“Yes, Applied Physics.”
She seems mildly inconvenienced being here.
“So I started going to this little coffee shop in my neighborhood, and It turns out that HNDRXX had his flat just around the corner. I remember he stood out almost immediately. He looked more like a student of science than I did. Cept the cut off shorts. Never understood why he kept that up in London.
You know, the rain.
Anyways, he was always wearing these shirts with old british wrestlers on ‘em too. I remember because my dad had been way too into that. Johnny Saint, Jim Breaks.. That kind of stuff. Also he drank his coffee like a truck driver. Just black drip.The kind of coffee that ain’t special except it was his.”
She smiled fondly.
“He also read this old used paperback books. Science Fiction mostly. That stood out too. He also never seemed… relaxed. After we got to talking, I figured out it was because this was kind of his break from training. He was always talking about getting better. Being in better shape, being sharper.
As a serious student, I really appreciated how serious he took what he was doing.”
Her eyebrows scrunch.
“No, I don’t think of this as.. What I would want for someone like him. It’s a hard life. He’d come in with bruises on his chest and abdomen. He was bright. He could’ve done something else with his time. I think that’s why we fell out of touch after that summer. I cared for him, but I couldn’t see him getting hurt.
I don’t think of HNDRXX as a violent man. I don’t pretend to know the part of his story before or after me. All I saw of HNDRXX was a curious, serious young man who was dedicated to an idea.
to a craft.”
She nods.
“Oh yeah, his flat was spartan, not even a bed frame. He claimed he didn’t want things to “get in the way”. He had a lot of old wrestling posters, some weights, and maybe three plates, spoons, forks.. You get the idea. He had DVD’s everywhere. Books piled on the coffee table. I wouldn’t say disorganized, but it was the space of someone who primarily slept there…”
She sighs, a little sadness.
“I don’t know. You could see that even when he looked at you, he was looking at something larger. I wonder if HNDRXX still..”
She pauses.
“Of course he does. That’s why we are here isn’t it? It’s why we are here talking about him.. “
Another pause.
“I’ve never seen him wrestle you know? If he’s happy that’s all that matters. You can’t not want the best for HNDRXX. “
She leans back on the stool. Thoughtful.