THE CAGE
Part Sixteen – Glen
Disclaimer – this story is completely fictional. All characters are owned by the WWF or are creations of the author. No infringement intended. Any likeness to characters or incidents described is purely coincidental. Thanks for all reviews given.
The engine idled for a bit, then went dead. Silence filled the dark green Taurus rental car. The four occupants looked outside their windows, not saying a word. Matt Hardy juggled the keys in his hand.
"You want us to come in with you?" He turned around to face Mark Calloway, whose eyes were hidden by a pair of dark, reflective Oakleys.
Mark shook his head slowly. "Nah. It should just be me."
Amy, sitting beside Mark in the back seat, tapped him softly on the shoulder. "We don't mind, Mark. We should probably go see him anyhow."
Jeff nodded from the front passenger seat.
Mark shook his head again. "Probably wouldn't recognize you guys anyway." He took off his sunglasses, rubbed them against his shirt, then resolving himself to it, replaced the sunglasses back on his face. He opened the car door, and eased his massive frame out. "See you in a bit."
Matt nodded, Jeff gave a short wave.
Mark walked across the prim green lawn, looking slightly out of place in his typical biker gear. Nurses taking patients out in their wheelchairs stopped short upon sight of him, then quickly wheeled their patients out of sight. Mark shrugged it off. He stepped through the marble entryway, reminiscent of an old plantation – totally not Glen's style, but still nice he had to admit. He checked in with the head nurse, who glumly nodded him through to the back of the home.
Glen sat in a wheelchair, dead eyes looking through the giant glass windows. Mark crouched beside him, and took off his sunglasses. Glen did not acknowledge his appearance. Mark's face took a grim look, his eyebrows furrowing, mouth setting in a frown, all of which added seemed to add years to his face. Mark placed a hand on Glen's knee.
"Long time no see, eh buddy?"
Glen continued to stare out the window. The soft light from the bright sun made his pale reflection seem all the more white. His eyes, once vibrant, were now dulled from the dark circles underneath them. His hair looked long and stringy, somewhat greasy.
"Glen, buddy, I know you can hear me man. I know this comes too little, too late. But we got him, Glen. We got him by the balls now."
Glen remained unchanged by news of their victory.
Mark sighed. He looked out the window with Glen, a beautiful day, but spoiled by the fact that it had to be seen from within the confines of this place. With his left hand, he flipped out his sunglasses and put them on his face. He began to stand up but stopped.
His hand, the one on Glen's knee. Glen's hand had moved to clutch Mark's. Mark stared down at the spectacle. He leaned back down to look at Glen's face, but it was unchanged.
"Glen…"
He felt his hand squeezed by Glen's.
Mark knelt back down to sit beside Glen. He stayed there the rest of the day.
THE END