Wrestling Against Myself (41 page)

“But that is not what you think. Since talking to you about her, you have never once faltered in calling her 'she,' 'her,' 'Courtney.' You never used the masculine, even though I remained ambivalent. If they think what she is doing is a sin, which is their issue that they need to worry about. Hopefully they can learn that we aren't called to judge.”

“No we're called to love and to serve,” Tony said.

“Exactly. And that sounds like what you are doing. Try not to worry about others. I know that is one of the snares that Satan has laid out for you, even though you try to deny it. You go where the Lord leads you and everything will work out for His good.”

“Thanks Pastor Bob.”

“You're welcome. How about we pray about it and then I can whoop you at ping pong again.”

“You're on.”

Pastor Bob made his way around the desk and sat in the chair next to the teen. He put his hand on the large wrestler's shoulder and they both bowed their head and closed their eyes.

“Lord,” Pastor Bob said in a softer tone. “I pray for brother Tiny. That you give him peace in his current situation, that you guide him in what you would have him to do. You know he has a heart to serve you, I ask that you strengthen his resolve as he goes through persecution at school. Give him the wisdom and the compassion to do what is right and to always seek your face before looking for the approval of others. In your Son's precious and Holy name,”

“Amen,” the two men said in unison.

“Thank you,” Tony said as he stood up.

“You might not be saying that after I get through with you on the ping pong table.” Bob looked at his watch. “But we better hurry.”

“Are the Visigoth's coming?”

“Always,” Bob said with a grin.

The final bell rang and the day was over. Thursday was one of those days when nothing happened at school, which was nice for a change. Everything fell into the status quo and was comfortable. Of course, people avoided Courtney, but they weren't mean to her. Antonio felt there was some progress being made on that front. Shannon and Stephanie were still no shows at lunch, but Tony figured he might as well get use to that as the new norm. Dave and Ted were absent from lunch as well, but they made a habit of skipping lunch on Thursdays and heading straight for the library to work on their role-playing game. Classes were a bore, which means nothing changed on there. He spent most of his time in class reviewing notes for tests that were coming on Friday.

The students filed out of the classroom, but Tony lingered at his desk. He didn't feel like getting into the swarm and suffering through all the pushing and the bumping. Instead he sat back and watched as people fought their way through the one door that led them to freedom. When he felt it was safe, Tony grabbed his books and strolled out of the room unabated.

The corridors and breezeways were abuzz with activity as students scampered to their lockers and get home. It amazed Tony how a group of people so lackluster in the classroom could gain such a spurt of energy from hearing another bell during the day. He likened it to wrestling, but found it hard. Sure, there were times when he had to dig down and grab hold of something extra in order to pull out a win, but he never slept through the first two periods of a match and then came alive during the last and he never had more energy when a match was over than before. Perhaps a correlation couldn't be found. 

Thinking of wrestling made Tony depressed. There was open mat time, but Carl informed him he wasn't going to make it. The reason Carl wasn't going to show wasn't important. Antonio didn't bother to ask him why. It wasn't as if Carl was obligated to show, but Tony was dismayed at the lack of dedication from his other team members. Of course, they weren't fighting for a scholarship to a top-notch program as he was. Carl might get recruited for a division II school or maybe an NAIA program, but wasn't going to be invited to Iowa State or Minnesota, so he had nothing to lose by missing out on mat time. Tony determined within himself not to use the absence of a partner as an excuse for him not to do what was necessary.

Tony made his way to the locker room, trying not to be down about the scenario. There wasn't going to be a partner, he thought to himself, but I can still work on my footwork. It was enough to keep him following the course of action he set in his mind. The locker room was empty, which was good. At least he didn't have to fight through a bunch of freshman boys to get changed.

He made his way to the back row of lockers and sat on the bench. He would give himself thirty minutes on the mat, he told himself as he thought about what he wanted to work on. The way he figured, a half hour was plenty of time to work on his shots, which he was never as proficient as he wanted to be, and also on his throws. Though people always assumed that throwing another heavyweight around required enormous upper body strength, Tony knew the key was in the footwork and the hips.

“Hey Tiny,” a high pitch voice said loudly from the end of the row.

Antonio didn't need to look up to know who it was. “Hey, John. I thought you said you weren't going to show up to the open mats? I thought you said you were worried about what others thought?”

“I did and I am.” John Sharp walked over to Antonio and stood over him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Wanted to talk to you about something.”

“About Courtney? Because there really isn't much you can say, other than admit you are wrong.”

“I don't
have nothing against her. It's strange and all, but what do I care.”

“But you won't have anything to do with her either,” Tony sounded bitter. “Right there makes it appear as if you have a pretty poor opinion about her.”

“You know why I don't become her friend. Geez, Tiny, no one is going to start shit with you, but they'll kick my tail all over the place.”

“Since when did you back down from fights?”

“One on one, no problem,” John Sharp displayed his regular sense of bravado. “But ten against one and I might be in trouble. But I wasn't about to talk about your friend.”

“You're my little friend too,” Tony said with a grin as he pulled his wrestling shoes out of the locker.

“I hope so. But, have you talked to Shannon lately.”

“Not since Monday. We have a different view on some issues and he decided to part ways for the time being.”

“More like he's decided to become your mortal enemy.”

“What in the world are you talking about?” Tony stood up and closed his locker.

“From what I overheard, he thinks you're wrong about the girl and that you're not going about things in the right way.”

“I already knew that was his position, that's nothing new to me and he has a right to voice his opinion.”

“Are you a bigot, Tiny?”

“What?” Antonio couldn't tell if John was trying to push his buttons or presenting more facts.

“Bigot, bigot, bigot,” John sang. “Tiny's a bigot.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“That's what Shannon says about you.”

“Are you sure he didn't use another word. Maybe hypocrite? I can see him saying that, but not bigot.”

“Oh yeah, hypocrite. But that doesn't rhyme as well.”

Tony shook his head. “Sometime you try too hard to get under my skin.”

“Is it working?” The mischievous smile on John Sharp's face was undeniable.

Tony rolled his eyes but didn't say a word.

“What I wanted to talk to you about is I overheard Shannon say he should kick your ass for being a queer lover.”

“Where did you hear such a thing?”

“At lunch. The football players sit at the table right behind mine. It's hard not to hear them talking trash all the time.”

“Shannon and I are not going to get into a fight.”

“Why not, Tiny? Don't you think you can kick his ass? My bet is the fight will last under a minute and you'll murder him.”

“That's not the way I go about things and you know it.”

“Come on, Tiny. Just this once.”

“Would you stop trying to instigate fights? I told you that hanging around Peter would be a bad influence. It's starting to be a real pain to be around you. Stop trying to start trouble and find ways to avoid it.”

“What fun is that?”

“It may not be fun, but it's healthy,” Tony said.

“You're never any fun, Tiny.”

“Maybe not. But isn't it nice to know that if you ever needed me, I would have your back.”

“Gee. Tiny, you think if you needed me I wouldn't have your back too.”

“From the sound of things, it looks like you want me to be put in harm’s way. That's not what friends do to one another.”

“Why, because I want you to fight Shannon and shut his big pie hole? That's not putting you in harm’s way. You'd destroy him in a fight and maybe that would get the other guys to leave your friend alone.”

“I'm not going to become a bully so I can end bullying. That would be hypocritical. There is a right way and a wrong way to do things. If Shannon is upset with me, that's fine. I don't think I did anything wrong, but I won't stop being his friend. If he wants to run his mouth so it makes him feel better, I'm cool with that too. But I'm not going to escalate things, and I hope I can count on you to do the same.”

John frowned. “Sure, Tiny. I just thought you should know what was being said.”

“Thanks for the information. You sure I can't convince you to grab so mat time?”

“Nope. I'm saving myself for the season. I'll see you around.”

Tony watched the smaller wrestler walk toward the front of the locker room and out the door. With his wrestling shoes still in hand, he made his way to the wrestling room. The room was empty and quite, outside of hearing the occasional clatter of an errant basketball shot coming from the outside.

Antonio unrolled the mat just far enough for him to have enough space to work. He enjoyed the stillness as he laced his shoes and began to bounce on the three inch thick wrestling mat. The spongy feel beneath his feet made him feel lighter, especially since the soreness finally left his legs.

With no one around and no one to practice against. Tony closed his eyes and visualized an opponent for himself. It was always the same imaginary opponent, the graduating senior that beat him during State finals the year before. “I wish I could face him again for real,” Tony thought as he got into his stance.

One of the things that made Tony a good wrestler was his kinesthetic awareness. He knew where his body was in relation to itself, other people, and his surroundings. He knew he was in the center of the small circle as he imagined locking up with an opponent that wasn't there and then ducking to grab a leg that didn't exist.

Tony was working up a good sweat as the match in his mind went on and on. He tried knee-picks and head throws, he sprawled when his imaginary opponent attempted a shot and scrambled when the mood struck him. He heard the door to the wrestling room open, but kept his eyes closed as he worked his way on top and put a pinning combination on a person that only existed in his mind.

Tony was breathing heavy as he opened his eyes and turned toward his spectator. “There you are,” he said between breaths. “I was starting to think you left without me.”

“When Carl said he wasn't going to make it, I figured you were going to leave right away,” Courtney said as she leaned against the red padded wall. “I was waiting by the car.”

“Sorry. I couldn't pass up mat time.” Tony sat down and unlaced his wrestling shoes.