The car drive was just as long as he had remembered. It had been nearly a year since the last time he had visited the school he built but the same little fence stood out the front, waiting for him as it always had. From the ashes of his own personal society had risen a place of hope and joy for children across the rural areas of Australia. Those too poor to afford private schools or that lived too far inland to reach schools that were halfway decent. The drive should’ve been more peaceful this time around, Mark hadn’t tagged along like last time. Yet, Justin was far from at peace.
As he pulled into the driveway, the bush surrounding him on either side, he put his forehead on the steering wheel. His index finger brushed against his skin, the cold metal of the Hall of Fame ring sent a chill down his spine and a splinter of angry through his heart.
“It doesn’t even count,” Justin cursed as he shook the steering wheel whilst screaming. “He lied right to my face! Banks, you no good bastard! I hate you! Bastard!”
It had all been lies. The ceremony, the induction, the ring, the jacket and the plaque. Justin Cooper was not in the WZCW Hall of Fame even though it had been promised to him. He had sat there, at dinner with Mr. Banks, before he joined Vis Imperium and was told that joining the group would cement his place among the elite. It had all come to nothing. Banks had won, again. Justin was playing a game and losing badly, his control over the group slipping and with recent results as they were, he wasn’t sure if it was worth fighting to gain control back any more.
As he lifted his head up from the wheel, Justin looked over at the entrance to the school. The principal had come out onto the front veranda and was eating her lunch. The day about halfway done as Justin stepped out of his car and made his way over to her. The little fence out the front had initials of the children attending the school carved into it. The school wasn’t big in numbers but in importance, many of these kids wouldn’t be able to go to school if not for Justin, it meant everything to them.
“Good afternoon,” said the principal in between mouthfuls of her salad. She took a drink of water and stood up, marching over to Justin and extending her hand. “So good to see you again, Mr. Cooper.”
“Please, call me Justin. I didn’t mean to interrupt your lunch. I’m afraid I didn’t know I was coming today until early this morning,” replied Justin. He shook her hand and pulled her chair out for her and took a seat opposite. From within his pocket he pulled out a cigarette, lit it and took a long drag.
“Well, it’s always a pleasure to have you here. The children will be so excited. Though, I do admit between us,” said the principal, now whispering. “That some may not be as welcoming since you’ve became a bad guy. They take the show very seriously. Kids, as you know, believe the darnedest things.”
The smoke filled his lungs as Justin leaned back in the chair. His eyes searching the surrounding bushland.
“But not you. You don’t believe I am a bad guy?”
The principal shook her head and smiled, a pretty smile at that. Her hair, blonde, falling to her shoulders with grace.
“Anyone who has done this much good cannot be a bad guy. I’ve seen the results of this place, Justin. These kids can’t afford the travel to the big cities. They can’t afford the private schools around these parts. Without this place, I honestly don’t know what they’d do.”
A smirk came across Justin’s face as he took another drag. “You’d be surprised...”
“Jessica,” said the principal. “My name is Jessica.”
“Well, Jessica. You’d be surprised just how bad I can be,” replied Justin. His eyes meeting the principals and for a moment they sat in silence just looking at each other. “How long have you worked here?”
She took a sip of her water and replied, “About three years. I had to take some time off a few months ago but I’ve been pretty steady with the job since then.”
Within his pocket Justin’s mobile began to vibrate. He reached down and grabbed it, glancing at the text message and soon the colour on his face drained. Sweat festered on his forehead and even Jessica noticed. She reached out a hand but he pulled his own away quickly, flicking the cigarette away and wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his suit.
“Is everything alright? You look… ill,” Jessica said, she stood up and approached but Justin continued walking away.
“Get the children out of the school, if you would be so kind. The fields at the back of the school should be suitable. Quick as you can,” Justin said calmly, walking to his car.
The principal looked flustered, she didn’t know what was happening but it was too late to ask any more questions. She ducked inside the school and rallied the teachers, driving the children out of the main building within minutes. They had practiced fire drills for years being as they were surrounded by bush.
It was important to be prepared for that. The same routine was used here, they got the kids onto the field at the back, safely away from the main building and by the time Justin had returned, a roll check had been done and everyone was accounted for.
Meanwhile, as he was walking away, Justin knew it was too late to change anything. He wasn’t a bad guy. He was vile. He was a lowlife. He was about to fuck up the one good thing he had done and Banks had played him for it. The land which the school was operating on was previously owned by Justin but recently, under the guise of a Hall of Fame induction, Cooper had sold it to Banks and now, the bulldozers were approaching. The school was coming down, Banks was going to strip Justin of his last morsel of humanity and even as Justin walked away, he knew he couldn’t stop it, but he couldn’t watch it happen either.
The sounds were horrific. Parked just outside of the school, the windows up, his hands over his ears, Justin could still hear the bulldozers destroying the school. The kids screaming and crying as they watched their home away from home being torn down. Teachers were horrified and demanded to see the deed to the school, which was provided by the main demolition man. They could only watch as their jobs were reduced to rumble.
Soon enough, the school was flattened, the children and staff left on the fields holding hands together as what was once their dream had become a nightmare. Through the ashes of the school emerged Justin once he saw it was over. His eyes watered, whether from the dust of the rumble or genuine emotion, he wasn't sure but he wore thick black sunglasses to cover his eyes nonetheless. The burning sound of a child’s cries stung Justin as he approached. When they saw him, the principal, Jessica, who had been so kind earlier, walked up and slapped him across the face.
“How could you?” Jessica asked, her voice a flutter of dismay.
“You should’ve listened to the children. Nobody ever listens to the children. They told you,” Justin said, coughing to keep his voice from cracking. “I’m a bad guy. Now get the hell off this property before I call the police and have you arrested for assault.”
She struck him again and this time it was stronger than the first. A third was thrown but Justin grabbed her wrist and pulled her close.
“Don’t do that again, alright. Collect what you can and get going before this turns ugly for not just you but for them,” he said, his voice a sadness masked with venom.
He let go of her wrist and walked off towards a bench. All the eyes of the staff and children were on him. Hundreds of little faces just looking at him completely shattered by what they believed were his own actions. In some sense they were right. He had sold the property to Banks and for what? A Hall of Fame induction that wasn’t real. He had sold them out for his own gain and now they were all left with nothing but broken promises.
As he sat on the bench, a small child approached him. He couldn’t have been more than eight years old. His knees scratched a little, hair that had been combed in the morning but ruffled the moment he walked out the front door. Justin turned his head and looked at the kid, he didn’t find an angry face, he found a curious one.
“Did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Knock down the school,” said the child.
“It’s a long story kid. Best thing for the both of us is if you head over that way back towards the other kids. You don’t want to be caught talking to me right now,” Justin said, his hands searching his pockets for another cigarette.
“They said, the teachers said, that you did it and that we haven’t got a school any more.”
“Yeah, that about sums it up.”
“But what are we going to do?” Asked the child.
“I don’t know,” Justin answered, it was all he had to offer as he lit his smoke.
“Where are we going to go to school?”
Justin turned and saw the kid was standing now and continuing to ask questions. On and on he went, asking question after question about what the school was going to do. How were they going to survive. And what was next for them. It was too much for Justin. He had had enough of being asked about other people. This was about him! He had been screwed! He had been outplayed yet again!
“Enough! I don’t know, kid. I just don’t know about you, about them, about the teachers or about this school. I haven’t got any more of a clue than you. Is that alright? Do you get it now? I do not know!”
He was shouting so loud that the other students and staff had been alerted. Soon they gathered around the area and were watching as Justin stood on the bench and screamed at the top of his lungs.
“You’re all looking at me like I’ve got the answers. I don’t! Did I cause this? Yes, I did. I caused it. You’re all out of job and out of a school because of me but would I do it again? Hell yes! I’d trade every single one of you brats in if it meant I got what I wanted. That’s the part that pains me, you know. I got nothing out of this! I didn't get any of what I wanted! I sold this place for less than I paid original because I was promised a ring, a jacket and plaque to cement my legacy in professional wrestling. It may not mean much to you but to me it means the whole fucking world! It means more than life itself! Your lives, my legacy means more than anything you lot will ever do and have ever done in this burnt out hole in the ground called rural Australia!
You think you're in for a rough time. Guess what I get to go do now? I get to go back with my tail tucked between and kiss the ass of the man who played me like a god damn fiddle. Does that make you happy? I’m not walking off into the heavens after this, oh no, I'm about to sit on a plane for ten hours and get on my knees to kiss the ass of the man who basically pissed in a cup and told me it was freaking fruit juice! And when news breaks of this, the media will love it. They’ll tell the story of how Justin Cooper destroyed a community for his own personal gain but the horror isn’t that I did that, it’s that I didn’t even get any personal gain! No, instead this will be bulletin board material for Matt.
Some of you I’m sure now the great and powerful, Matt Tastic? Huh, speak up. It’ll be the last time I’m ever in this dump,” shouted Justin, his rage towards Banks festering into a diatribe against those gathered before him. In truth he wasn’t even that mad at them. He felt sorry for them but Banks, the thoughts of that man had blurred him to anything outside of his building hatred for the man.
“Matt came from the same kind of poor small town that you all come from. He'd eat this stuff up if he ever hears about it. Who knows, maybe he'll come and build you a school! Matt Tastic... the legend and he has a place in the Hall of Fame. In fact, this week they unveiled his own personal section. That should’ve been me! I was promised a section. I was promised that section. I was promised the world and do you know what I’ve gotten since those promises were made? Nothing! I still fly commercial for Christ sake, do you believe that? Matt Tastic, the poor kid from Mexico, living off shoe leather and canned beans with his Grandfather under a hot tin roof with nothing but a hole to shit in, and he doesn’t even fly commercial any more. Man of the people? How about sell out. Oh, they call me a sell out for sure but how can I be a sell out when I don’t get anything? Matt Tastic wants you to believe he is a man of the people but when was the last time he sat with the people, talked with the people or broke bread with the people? How can he stand on top of his mountain and claim to represent the very people he worked so hard to abandon?
Matt Tastic made it clear he wanted a better life because he despised the peasants in Mexico. Yet, those idiots cheered him when he won Lethal Lottery. He didn’t even use his real name when he joined this company, he was that embarrassed of his Mexican roots. He is a sham, a phony and a false hero to the blind masses. Millions around the world hate me because for a year I lied, I tricked and I convinced you all that I was a hero. The question I have is this; why does nobody hate Matt Tastic for doing the same thing. He wore a mask to shield his identity, he was disgusted by his culture but I embraced it. I attempted to bring you lot up with me to greatness but you’re so pathetic and worthless that it couldn’t be done but at least I tried. I did my best to life you people up from the bottom and towards the apex as I did with Mark Keaton. I made him a star! I made him a millionaire and I attempted to do the same for you lot but you're so pathetic that you couldn't do it. Instead, I just kept getting asked for more and more... more and more! Help me, help me, help me, you all cried and I did. I wasted my time with you when I could've been adding to my own legacy and maybe just maybe, I'd be in the Hall of Fame right now if I didn't try to help you! I tried to help you. I really tried to help you all!”
The clouds overhead turned to grey and rain began to fall as Justin took a drag of his smoke. The crowd watching on, their voices silent as Justin felt the cold rain touch his skin.
"Matthew never even tried.”
