It ain't over til it's over

It ain't over til it's Over
By Cory Chevelle


"I can't tell you how many times I had to learn how to lose, before I learned how to finally win."

Picture your ideal homestead somewhere out in the middle of no where, deep in the heart of the Midwest. He calls it the 'backwoods' of Missouri. A place where an area is known as Bootjack, but you won't find it on a map. For miles, a land full of timber and pastures full of grazing cattle. Horses run inside a meadow ; Where creek is flowing through. In the middle is a home built by a man who calls it home. A large white house with an oldstyle wrap around porch. It's nothing fancy or luxurious. It's moderately simple and comfortable, and easy on the eyes when you take in the full view.

This is where he's lived for almost twenty years. It's where he raised his children, it's where he's worked when he wasn't being a modern day gladiator inside the ring. When he was too beat up or injured, this was where he came to heal and make his body stronger. When he needed quiet and calm, this is the place he found it. Above all...

This is home.

And he built it. He spilt blood for it. He put his sweat and even some tears over the years into this one place.

We haven't even gone over his retreat home in Alaska...

Chevy is under the hood of a 1970 Chevelle SS. 454, and his pride and joy. He's not doing anything too significant, just 'tinkering' with a few things after giving it an oil change. It's bright red wide body shines in the sunshine on another gorgeous spring day. From the garage behind him, the echo of the radio while classic rock plays. Because most of today's music sucks anyway in his mind. He gets sick of the replayed usuals but at this point, the tunes aren't important. It's background noise while he focuses on the damn car.

"I wish they understood Alice in Chains has more songs than Man in the box. For fuck sakes.... "

He picks up his rag, wiping his hands off before he closes the hood. Slinking around from the side of the car is a black and tan hound, wagging his tail and giving a yawn.

"Where the hell you been? Works done now."

The dog continues wagging, walking up up to Chevy for a pat on the head.

"What sounds good? Steak or bacon?"

Like the god damn dog cares, he's eating either way and he knows this already. A white range rover pulls into the long drive, it was Haley.

Haley worked as head of his staff. Yeah, that's a good way to put it. She basically manages his career now since Frank's retirement. On top of that, she does the financials of the gym, the family, and for good reason. His daughter was the smartest one in the family. She knew the business well and rarely appeared involved on camera.

Haley was the oldest of three. His other two, a son and daughter, twins- had yet to arrive. Haley put the rover in Park and stepped out from the driver side. She greeted her father with a smile and waved.

"Hi daddy, tinkering again?"

Chevy shrugged, acting as if she was in the wrong for even asking.

"What's wrong with tinkering? Gotta show red some love now and then. You know you were born in that back seat right? Conceived too."

"Yeah dad, I remember. I wish I didn't but I do. That's one of your favorite stories to tell everyone when you're drunk. Daddy, have we been drinkin today already?"

Right as he's pulling a cold one from an old fridge in the garage. With no remorse or hesitation he pops the tab and stares straight back at his daughter.

"Damn right. I'm a grown man, Haley. It helps my...you know, it keeps from catching a domestic on my children."

She approaches him, laughing softly to herself. Then right behind him, she reaches in and pulls one out as well.

"Good, because fuck this day I need one too."

She pops the tab just like her dad and takes a gulp. Chevy couldn't help but smile with pride. His lil girl drank like a man. Hell, she could probably out-drink most men twice her buck-twenty figure. To see her you wouldn't first imagine a beer guzzling, belching, Appalachian princess. She had the looks of a star or a duper-model which made her dad mad as hell many nights when she was a teenager. You might think she was a beauty pageant type, but in fact this girl has spent her share of time working head locks and taking bumps in the ring at her dad's gym.

Haley hit her father in the arm, causing Chevy to shoot her a side glare.

"So.. make up your mind yet daddy?"

"I reckon so."

"And...?"

"Hell, may as well. I miss it Haley. I've been on too many hunting trips and confined to this place or the other long enough I reckon. So yeah, dad's gonna go back to wearing trunks and rolling around a ring with sweaty men. Except less rolling, more tossing."

"Salads?"

Chevy shot her another scowl from the corner of his eyes, shaking his head as he tipped his bottle towards her. A warning. Haley laughed. She knows she can get away with more than... Well, anybody. Let's be honest. Would you wanna piss off a man who benched 600 pounds, does 25 reps of 250, and while we could talk stats all day let's just say this mountain moves. At 43 years old, his face showed the mileage and the scars told the stories but physically Cory Chevelle is as intimidating as he's ever been. Just because he's been gone doesn't mean he hadn't stayed in shape.

"So I've been thinking..."

"Oh God, daddy, no... When you started thinking, last time Japan had a nuclear reactor blow up."

"Okay, fuck me nevermind."

"Quit it, I'm teasing. I forget how sensitive my father can be.."

"God dammit I'm not sensitive! I swear sometimes you remind me more and more of you know who and it..it makes me-"

"Wanna commit domestic violence? You should've probably. You know I never understood why you put up with mom so much but if you were booked against a woman wrestler you were stiff with them. Harder on some of them than you were on the boys at times."

"That's because they were tough and the world needed to see that. I helped bring back the feminist movement god dammit! Never put em over. That's where I draw the line."

"Asshole."

"Sorry but I'll knock a woman out all the same. I'm not sexist, and ain't a single one of them women big or bad enough to knock out your dad. Losing to them would have cost me heat, and rule number one..."

"I know, I know. Protect yourself, be selfish."

"Very good. Well, I wonder where Kull and Lilith are. Hey, you best go say hi to Frank. That old bastard has been sour as hell today and the only time he gets excited or smiles is when you all are coming. I'm ready for you to take him to your house anytime. I'm not a god damn nursing home."

Haley suddenly reaches up and gives her dad a lil tap across the chin. Doesn't budge him, nor phase him, and instead he stands there grinning.

"Be nice, you know you love that old man and quit bringing up his age! Maybe if you didn't remind him, he'd quit being so grouchy towards you. Ever think of that daddy?"

"Y'all are too sensitive for my taste. When I'm 74 just take me out and shoot me. Especially if I act like him."

Ahhh Frank O'Leary. Cory Chevelle's trainer and mentor. Frank had been with him since his days at college. And years later after Chevy came off the Indy's, Frank served as Chevy's manager and mouth piece. Frank O'Leary, Clint Eastwood's dopple ganger, was a hard man, an irish-mick who many saw as the Mick to Chevy's Rocky. He was harsh, but that meant he loved ya. Frank pushed Cory through out the years and they shared many miles. The bond they share is that very much a kin to a father and son, despite what Cory may tell people.

And yes, he was family.

"I better go see the grouch. See if I can fix your damage."

"Please do. And tell him I said shut the hell up about his damn garden this year."

"YOU PEE'D ON HIS TOMATOES EVERY WEEKEND LAST YEAR!"

"I was drunk, and you're suppose to rinse em off anyway after picking em."

Haley shook her head before grabbing herself another beer, and pulling out a can of Pabst for Frank. She walked directly from the garage around the house to the side where Frank sat. He was gently rocking back in the chair his deceased wife had got him for their 50th anniversary. His "Maggie" he called her. At first she stopped before approaching him, taking a a moment to admire he sat there stoic, scowling against the light. The hound, Bud laying next to him thumping his tail against the porch. Bud was short for Budweiser, not Buddy. Buddy was a pussy name, her father said when he was still a pup.

Frank happened to glance over thanks to Bud. His old eyes lighten up and the stone faced scowl fades into a smile.

"Hey sweetie, bring an old man anything cold by chance? Your dad, he's still as big, dumb, and useless as ever."

She giggled and raised the Pabst up as she carries it up on the porch to him. She knelt down and kissed his forehead.

"He has man'o'pause Frank, you know that. That's why we take care of him."

"Well convince him to get rid of that stupid hair cut! He's wearing a god damned pony tail now! You know who wore pony tails when I was his age? Women and men who later decided to be women, like that Jenner sonuvabitch!"

"Look. You two have lived together for four years now and it's time you both start acting like the men you are. He loves you! And you love him. And I already do more work for both of you than I'm paid for, so you two clearly need couples counseling."

Frank grit his teeth and shuttered at the mention.

"IM CERTAINLY NOT MARRIED TO THAT CROTCHETY OLD FUCKER GOD DAMMIT!"

Chevy hollered. Haley bust up laughing as Frank went back to scowling and staring off into the horizon. He had a mean mug to him that would make any man or creature cower. But that was just his usual face. He made a bull back down once, she remembered that still. He even cracked a bull in the snout one day before it tried charging her siblings. That bull was more confused as to what the hell just happened and the grit tlof the older gentleman who just knocked the cobwebs out.

Despite his now more frail and thin shape, Frank O'Leary was and always will be the same tougher than nails man she grew up under. But she never dared call him grandpa. No one did. Two old men you don't fuck with. Gene Lebell and Frank O'Leary.

"How's life been, I love that dress by the way. You always dress smart and classy kid. Not like some of these young ladies I see in town sometimes. They wear pajamas with their butts hanging out and some of the outfits I don't even know how their wearing the damn things! You dress like Maggie, a lady. Anyway..hell, sorry."

"Thank you, I try not to look like a slut. But only when I'm visiting dad. The rest of the time I'm earning extra cash on a pole and blowing guys for free Uber's."

"The hell's a goober?"

"Not goober, Uber. It's like a taxi service now days. You get on the app, book one. Nevermind."

"People don't drive themselves now.. great. This country's gone to hell and our future generations are gonna be nothin but lazy, trophy receiving tender ass babies..."

"Frank..."

"Not you kids. Please don't have babies and raise him to be self entitled pussies! Promise me!"

"Frank... I promise not to raise pussies. Now come back from the 1930s, prohibition is over and you haven't opened that beer yet. What are you gonna do when we elect a female president? Not vice, an actual president."

"I survived when they elected Obama. I think a madam president will be great. A woman can't screw up as bad as a man does. And this current asshole... Christ why'd they boot Trump! They oughta just let the vice president take over. Her balls are bigger anyway."

Oof, that one made her cringe a little. She knew better than to let him carry on about politics. Luckily, her father came walking around the corner.

"You done wasting time? There's real work you could be doing around here."

He doesn't waste a moment. Neither of them did, usually. Chevy looks at Frank, holding his breath in before he takes the bait.

"Old man. I love you, but I think it's time you go.. ya know. Like when the family dog disappears to go find itself a nice spot out in the woods, and lays down... permanently."

"Old yeller."

"What?"

"Old yeller, bun-boy. That's what yer calling me."

"No. Old yeller got rabies and they shot him to put him out of his misery. Also to protect the dumb kid. Because he would have been first to get bit. You're just an old asshole. You're more like the rabies that went to die in old yeller. Found a loving family, a host, and laid there permanently. You cost those boys their dog and made a bunch of people cry in their childhoods."

"Are you god damn retarded?"

"If you're my doctor, and what you say is true all these years, yes I'm retarded. Lucky for me Frank, you're not."

"If I was your doctor,-"

"Are you two really gonna keep doing this? Jesus Christ one of you just shoot the other so you can cry and bitch about missing the other one."

"Frank doesn't cry hunny. Puffs of dust roll out."

"Like your ol Johnson. That's why you had one tattooed on your chest."

"Sword. I was drunk, Lia and I got tattoos. I thought I'd be philosophical..."

"Christ... That'd be..nevermind. Philosophical how exactly?"

"The world was holding a knife to my throat. Divorce, WEF fucked us on the contract."

"I remember kid. And she was taking Haley plus looking for 900 grand a month in alimony. I understood the booze and whores after the shows."

It was a brief, refreshing moment. That turned into awkward silence quickly. Frank looked off to no where as he sipped his beer. Chevy stops there thinking the whole moment was way more intimate or sensitive and questioned whether or not it made his daughter uncomfortable. It did, but only because she knew how mad Frank can get when those days came up, and her father wasn't one who enjoyed being 'exposed'. He didn't like to admit he's human, she tells people. In public, he was 'on' 24/7. This was sometimes difficult to shut off when back at home.

He just never wanted his kids to see him weak.

"Any word from your brother and sister?"

"Calling them now daddy."

"It amazes me how you had three kids that turned out as good as they did. Given... You know.. you and..."

"Frank. Shut the hell up and drink your beer. Enjoy retirement. Hey.."

"What.."

"One more match, we go for the tag titles, whatcha say?"

The old man chuckled to himself and nodded.

"Alright kid, but I'm not carrying your ass and you're gonna have to sell during the match because I'm no selling everyone in the building. Too old for that shit."

Chevelle smacked Frank on the shoulder as he walked into the house so he could clean up.

"Frank, how did you and Maggie meet?"

He already knows the story. She just likes seeing the way his eyes twinkle when he talks about her.

"My Maggie was a nurse. You know I made it through that damned war without a scratch. Day I come home and get off the bus I tripped and cracked my melon on damn sidewalk. Whole town was there and everything. Needless to say, I went to the hospital to get some stitches. She came in and I was-"

"Well.. let's just say I didn't have words. In fact, I was choking on em like a jackass every time she spoke to me."

"Well you must have said something right, she agreed to let you take her dancing."

"Sweetie I promise you I said nothing right and she agreed out of pity. But when we married.. well, that was God giving me somethin I didn't deserve. Maggie was something else. Patient with people, sweet, hell she kept me honest too. I miss her. Every day."

Frank sipped from his beer then got quiet. Fragments of memories ran through his mind like a reel of tape. All the good times and.. well there weren't any bad times until her passing. His biggest regret; They never had children of their own. Frank now looked over to Haley, with another drink he changes the conversation.

"You and what's his nuts still dating or did you decide to be done with that bum?"

"Done. Dad was ready to kill him. Think I was too."

"Your dad was going to kill him, and dig him a hole too. Anyway, that's good. So what's the big plan for your dad's return?"

"Is no big plan. Still haven't officially signed with anyone despite their interest. Think he's nerv-"

"He ain't. He's looking for a place that pays well and where he can give back the most to. Pretty sure this will be the last run though."

"You think he's going for retirement?"

"Ain't no retiring, but I think the curtain call's coming. Still don't understand the stupid haircut. That alone would make me wanna retire."

Coming down the drive was the other two, Kull and Lilith.

"There they are."

"You got yer fathers grasp on the obvious don't ya sweetie."

The bright red '72 Nova comes to a stop in the drive. Kull turns the keys, killing the engine as Lilith gets out first. Lilith was technically the middle child, having been born before her brother. The twins looked nothing alike other than the blonde hair on their heads. Lilith's being slightly more red in tint. As for Kull, he resembled his father when he was younger, but lacked the wide mountainous frame his father had. He was lean, more slimmed down but a good lokin kid and very quiet usually. Unlike their older sister, they stayed out of the family spot light for the most part. Their dad wanted it that way as well. Kull's passion was music and MMA. Lilith was working on majoring in bio-science. She hated pro-wrestling, Kull liked it but had no intention of ever following in his dear old dad's footsteps.

"It's about time." Haley said as she walked up to greet them. She gave her brother a playful pop on the shoulder, then hugged her sister. Kull was use to this.

"He knew I was running behind, long day at work."

"Excuses get you no where in this family little brother. You know this."

"Leave em alone Haley" Frank growled from under his breath. The old man put one arm around Kull, and the other around Lilith. Then he turned to Kull with a smirk across his face

"Don't suppose you managed to bring an old man his bottle..."

Bourbon. His bottle of bourbon. Kull seemingly forgot for a moment but upon the reminder he turned and ran back to the car. After reaching in, he pulled out exactly what Frank was waiting for. The old man smiled and nodded with his approval. Kull came back, exchanging bottle for a gentlemen's handshake of acceptance. Frank would then turn and make it towards the house while the siblings remained outside. They could all smell the grill firing up around back. A sign their father was gearing up to throw the steaks on.

Some time later..

Everyone sat around the dinner table, finishing up their meals. Chevy sat the head, with Frank at the opposite end. Haley often would giggle to herself at the fact. Still making the argument that the two had basically married each other now. Dipping his last bite in the bloody-juices that remained on his plate, Chevy looked over to his son.

"So.. how'd work go? Think you're up for running things while I'm away?"

"Where the hell you goin this time?"

"I'm coming outta retirement. Again."

"Oh Jesus. Why?"

"You don't ask me why. Cause I want to God dammit. I got more in the tank boy and I don't intend to waste it piddle-fartin around here and training greenhorns in the gym."

"Yeah but dad..you're kinda getting...up there, dontcha think?"

A clis dead scowl came over Chevy's face as he began giving his son 'the stare'.

"You think I'm too old to get back in that ring? Does anyone else have any thoughts or opinions they'd like to share at this time?"

Haley shook her head, Lilith on the other hand smiled and sat up like she was gonna give a speech to the room.

"Daddy I think it's wonderful you wanna go back. But Kull does raise a good point."

"No, he doesn't sweetheart and here's-"

"Daddy, you're what, fifty?"

"Shut yer whore mouth child! FIFTY!? I'M FOURTY-THREE GOD DAMNIT! Get outside I'll outrun all three of ya and that's while carrying Frank and Bud on my back!"

"Enough peckerwood! Can't we just enjoy a meal around here in peace? Jesus Christ, Maggie would of slapped all of you around by now.."

"Hey, father time, you like living here or are you ready for the nursing home? Because I ain't taking your lip at my table."

"I'll fight you all god damn day son!"

"Alright! All of you! Enough."

And this is why Haley ran things for her father. For as small as she was, her voice and the way she could control a room, she knew how to take charge. Everyone shut up and finished eating. The twins would giggle to themselves as Cory and Frank shot dagger filled glares at each other off and on.

The twins handled clean up, Frank retired to the porch where he would sit next to the light and widdle while looking up at the stars. Chevelle sat in the living room next to the fire place. The house was quiet with the exception of the kids cleaning up dinner and washing dishes. He sat there stoic, staring into the warm flames, thinking and pondering as he always had. He gently stirred the glass of bourbon around in his left hand before taking a sip. Family portraits and photos of his past accomplishments surrounded him on the walls around. From trophy big game hunts to title wins, and to his the moments his children were born, and the following years. All precious and significant memories. He took another sip of his bourbon, letting the liquor rest in his mouth before he gulped it down. Haley entered the room, quietly.

"Mind if I sit with you? Brought my own glass.."

Chevy looked at his daughter and gave her a nod as he directed her to a sofa off to his left. Haley made her way over to the bar first. It was hand made, built from cedar but had a cherry stain to it. Behind it was a collection of bourbons and tequilas. She poured herself a drink, and went over to the sofa.

"Bourbon and a fire. I never get tired of nights like these. So what's on your mind daddy?"

Chevelle shook his head, mumbling "nothing" at first. Then he swallowed down the remainder of drink in his glass and looked at Haley.

"Just wondering if I'm actually going to do this thing. Returning to the ring after nearly a decade. The sport has changed, the players have too mostly. Do I really wanna sign some where and start over again? I'm not exactly as young as I use to be. Though aging isn't really my worry. Can I still work the crowd and be the man they either love or hate the most? Shit like that. Then I think about you guys, should I be back out on the road or home and more available to you all. Your brother wants to fight in the cage, your sister wants to go out west and try to be a singer. Then there's you... What do you wanna do?"

"I'm doing it."

She said, with the same half-smile her father was famous for.

"I can take care of myself you know."

"I know that daddy, but working for you rarely feels like work. I like the inside of the business. I like the atmosphere of what we do. Remember when I was gonna try to get in the ring? Well, this is way easier. Plus your ass is highly marketable and not to brag but we make bank."

Chevy smiled and gave a chuckle as he stared at his empty glass.

"I don't know how long this run will be."

"That's okay. It can be as long or short as you want. That's all up to you. I just want you to have fun with it."

"I don't know what fun is."

"Oh believe me, I know. You've given enough to it dad, you don't have to-"

"Yes I do."

Silence swept over the room. Chevelle rose to his feet, going over to the bar and pouring another drink. Haley sat quietly, sipping from her glass and letting the subject rest. Her eyes then began to scale the room, looking at the photographs from over the years. Since 2001 he's been a modern day gladiator and it was all documented and on display in the living room. But above the fire place were his greatest accomplishments. The birthday of his children and the day he won Olympic Gold, which to some's surprise was more off to the side, putting their births at the forefront.

Her father use to come home from the road and tell them; that he "worked hard" so one day they wouldn't have to. Looking at the photos ranging along the walls, the amount of sweat and as shown in some, blood he put into the ring, building the farm and his own training camp. It made her smile, but was also astonishing to her. She often wonders how to live up to it all, as do her siblings. But their father, only ever asked that they do great things of which they were passionate about. They didn't need to impress him.

Chevelle sat back down, glancing at his phone and reading a message.

"About time you two started talking again."

Chevelle shot a glare over at Haley before questioning.

"Excuse me?"

"How is Lia?"

He shook his head, mumbling under his breath. Chevelle was quiet and often on the shy side when it came to such personal subjects. He also just felt awkward discussing his private life with his kids. Lia Osaka was a former colleague and on again off again girlfriend over the recent years. He didn't really stay in touch with her anymore but the two had a tendency to shoot the other a text or make plans to meet up when she was back in the states. She wasn't, in his mind, his girlfriend however.

The very word made him cringe and become tense. Nobody brings Cory Chevelle to his knees or makes him commit..or in his mind; submit to their will.

Not even a Japanese woman half his age with the body of a god damn super model.

He put his phone away and took a drink.

"How do you know it was her? Maybe it was a popular scandalous lady who crossed my path from the bar or church or somethin'..."

"Oh so you met someone new and you're not talking to Lia about returning to the ring, and trying to find out what dates she has in the states so you can get that-"

"Watch it. You two talk more she and I do anyway. For your information, it was Billy talking to me about UWL. Not Lia."

" So you haven't talked to her at all?"

"I didn't say that, of course I've talked to her. But that doesn't mean we're seeing each other. Damn.. ya know, how the hell is it any of your business anyway, I'm the damn parent here!"

"Because daddy, looking out for you is part of my job. And you spend way too much time around here, alone to yourself. You and Lia were-"

"I know, I know. I liked her a lot, had some good times. But she's bouncing all over the globe and I hate that shit anymore. Plus bouncing back and forth from Japan.. just wasn't working."

"Maybe you should get over your hate for big cities and people and branch out."

"Maybe I should. But I probably won't. At the end of the day your dad's a simple man and I like the quiet life. I get enough of the other when I'm on the road."

"I know daddy. I just want you happy. Well, I gotta go. Good nite, and I love your stupid ass."

Chevy chuckled as she stood up, kissing him on his big cro-magnom head and making her way out the front door. He got up and walked to the door, watching all three kids load up and take off. The twins hollered bye and waved, he waved back as he stepped out on to the porch. Watching them drive away, Frank mumbled something.

"You say something Frank?"

"Huh? Oh.. yeah. They've really grown haven't they son? I still can't get over them coming and going like they do. I still remember...".

"So do I Frank. So do I."

"You did good with them Cory."

"I didn't do it alone. Had a lot of different help over the years. You being one of them. You and Maggie anyway."

Frank smiled.

"Maggie loved them. Haley seems to be following in her footsteps. That girl needs to have her own life more ya know, may r you should talk to her about loosening up on some of the-"

"Frank. I have and she won't. She's more stubborn than you."

"Gee wonder where she gets that. Alright, I'm turning in. G'nite asshole."

"Nite you sonuvabitch. Try not to die in your sleep."

"Hey! You wish!"

Frank got up, and without another word walked inside and up the stairs to his room. Chevelle now stood alone, staring out into the quiet night, listening to the cows moo off in the distance. The sun was down, the stars were gleaming in the early night sky. Not one neighbor for miles. He sipped from his glass, and coyotes began to yip and howl in a playful manor. As much as he enjoyed listening to them, he couldn't help but think to himself they best leave his calves alone. Because he had no problem killing them either.

That was life though.

And death.

And such as life comes and goes; it ain't over til it's over.

End.