Post by Nick Fudge on Apr 20, 2011 13:28:48 GMT -5
Columbus by no means is a nice city. It’s inaccessible to say the least. The streets are poorly laid out. The air is filled with infamous Ohio smog. Navigation is done on the drop of a dime as right turns turn into left turns and vice versa. Navigating roads though has become second nature to Nick Fudge, an expert journeyman in his own right. He had gone to Columbus, Ohio in search of a man he had only met once.
The year was 1997. Nick Fudge was a fresh-faced college graduate. Earning a useless degree in the liberal arts. He was out celebrating in the Columbus area on his way home to Michigan. He graduated from Bowling Green State University on the skin of his teeth. His degree enabled him to do little, but the fact he got through college in seven on again off again years was something he was proud of.
His mother had taken out a second mortgage on her home to pay for Nick Fudge’s education. Nick Fudge was hardly concerned with schooling. He moved away from home at eighteen to begin training to become a professional wrestler. Bowling Green was not his first school. Nick Fudge originally attended Michigan State University and became a popular figure around East Lansing. Nick Fudge’s dedication to training and performing as a wrestler though often found him taking semesters off from college. It eventually led to him being kicked out of Michigan State. This thus led to him moving further south to Bowling Green.
Nick Fudge’s mother often warned him not to go to Bowling Green State University. She insisted that young Nicholas stay out of Ohio. For it held pieces to a puzzle that was best left unsolved. Nick Fudge just thought of this as his mom worrying about his well being too much. Nick Fudge was happy in Bowling Green. No one knew him and anonymity was all he wanted at that point in his life. The Ohio Valley region was a melting pot of Mid-West wrestling circuits. Nick Fudge was happy in Bowling Green. To him, that was the American Dream. He could go to school and during the weekend wrestle with talent all the way from Minnesota to Western Pennsylvania.
By the time Nick Fudge graduated in 1997 he was 27 years old. His degree was useless in the job market, but his experience gained on the wrestling circuit insured him future employment. In fact he planned to travel to California after a month of graduation. There was questions in his life, but he was happy with them being unsolved. He wore no burden of his past and his future was far brighter then he could of dreamed as a child. That is, until this particular night in Columbus, Ohio on his way home from Bowling Green. Fudge had stopped by a roadside bar to enjoy a few drinks and a night of sleep before he embarked on his way home to his mother.
Nick Fudge made no attempt to become acquainted with the patrons of the bar. He sat by himself at the bar drinking a pint of Guinness and watching a Cleveland Indian’s ball game on the small 13 inch television stationed at the end of the bar. He nibbled on the bar popcorn he was provided with. After about an hour Nick Fudge asked for his bill and was getting ready to leave. As Nick Fudge walked out the door of the bar he list up a cigarette. He inhaled on the cancer stick and exhaled smoke into the evening night. He stood outside of the bar smoking till he finished his cigarette. As he began to fumble for his keys in his pocket a middle-aged man approached him. The man, just arriving at the bar appeared to be almost fifty. He had stern icy blue eyes. His jaw was well defined and he was about the same size as Nick Fudge.
“Care if I borrow a smoke?”
Fudge wasn’t hesitated at all and gave the older man a cigarette. Nick Fudge had nothing better to do, so he ignited another cigarette and smoked alongside the older man. The two exchanged in small banter. After the last of the tobacco had burned the old man invited Nick Fudge back into the bar to buy him a drink. Nick Fudge obliged and returned back into the bar. The two sat back on the bar where Fudge was sitting. One drink turned into two, turned into three, turned into shots of Jose Cuervo, turned into four drinks and so on. The two where deep in conversation connecting on many levels sharing many of the same interest.
“…and that’s why I voted for Clinton. He knows how to deal with women!”
The two cracked up over what the older man had said. Nick Fudge also voted for Clinton for the exact same reason. Eventually the focus of the conversation shifted to Nick Fudge.
“Well to tell you the truth old man I’m a semi-professional wrestler with bachelors degree in the liberal arts. I’m going home to see my mom then heading out to the golden coast to bounce around the ropes for a few months to see if that is my true calling.”
“Impressive boy, impressive. Say how is your mother? Its hard to believe you got a college education. I didn’t go to college. That’s impressive!”
“My mom? Well she’s fine sir. I don’t know why you’re asking. Better not be no funny business. And ya, the whole college thing was for her. She would always say, “Nicholas you’ll be the first member of this family to graduate. You’re runaway father and me couldn’t do it. But you can do it”
The booze had took an astounding effect on the two. The room was spinning to Nick Fudge. The old man reached into his pocket and pulled a piece of paper and a pen. He began writing down an address. He handed the paper to Nick Fudge.
“Listen boy. I didn’t mean anything funny asking about your mother’s well-being. That paper has my home address. If you ever in this area for a reason that you’re just not to sure of. Come to this address and ask for me. It’s about time we got out of here.”
The two stood up and stumbled out of the bar. Nick Fudge sat into his car and fell asleep in the seat. The old man managed to drive off into the night. Fudge couldn’t help but feel uplifted about the encounter. The old saying rang true in describing the evening: a drunk mind speaks a sober heart.
Fourteen years have passed since the encounter to the present time. Every now and then Nick Fudge thought back about it. He himself was in Columbus, Ohio. Wayfaring has led him back to that particular city. He planned on meeting the man at the address he gave Fudge all those years ago. Fudge was nervous for the meeting, which was not a common emotion for him. He looked into the mirror in his Ford Econoline van. His stern icy cold eyes glistened in excitement. Something about this meeting felt right to Nick Fudge. He knew it was time to visit the old man again. The old man by now must have been in his sixties. Nick Fudge was in his early 40’s and had not even had a single use for his college diploma. After about thirty minutes of searching Nick Fudge found the address. It led him to a small single story house on the outskirts of Columbus. Fudge parked on the side of the road and saw a light in the small house light up. Butterflies had filled Fudge’s stomach. He stepped out of the van and walked up to the door. He knocked twice. He waited for three minutes. Then as he turned his back he heard the locks open. He turned and as the door opened the old man appeared, older then before. Immediately two sets of stern icy blue eyes locked up. For one minute they stared deep into each others. Nick Fudge’s mouth dried up. He began to feel beads of sweat running down his head. He finally opened his mouth.
“Hello…pa.”
“Hello son”
The two hugged on the porch of the house. Everything Nick Fudge had suspected about the old man was true. He was in fact Fudge’s father. The past few years Nick Fudge began to wonder if it was possible. Whenever he looked in a mirror he couldn’t help but how much he resembled the old man as he was in 1997. The moment was a victory in Fudge’s book. Eventually the embrace ended and the old man invited Fudge inside his adore. The two sat at the dining table. The house was rather clean for a single old man. It was small, but arranged to be perceived as large to the untrained eye. The old man led the conversation.
“So you figured it out. You figured out that I’m your old man. When did you figure it out?” The old man stood and walked to his fridge. He grabbed two beers and cracked them open. He handed one to Nick Fudge and took the other for himself, sitting back down.
“Well to tell you the truth. That night back in 97 I felt a connection I’ve never felt before. The curiosity of our bond is what led me to believe you were my father. Now let me try not to spoil this moment here and ask you to the best I can. What the fuck is your problem. Why was it that I was 27 years old when we first met? Why was it that you knew exactly who I was and you knew my mother on top of that."
The mood quickly took a turn to the dramatic. The old man drank his beer slowly. He looked at the clock and seen the second hand of his clock moving as slow as the minute hand.
“What if I told you son. That what I did was the way things were supposed to happen. We all have demons son. Have you not thought that the choice I made to not be in your life was the right choice for you and your mother? Some people are meant to be alone and I guess I’m just one of them. And by sheer chance in 1997 I stumbled into you. I knew immediately who you were. Your eyes told the whole story. Sometimes I wish that day never happened. Because I know all the searching in my life would become futile if we were to meet beforehand. Son, some people are just meant to be alone and roam the lands doing their best to fulfill a cause that isn’t so easily identifiable. A cause that doesn’t include family.”
Nick Fudge took his fathers words like a sponge would take water. He drank his beer. His eyes were bloodshot. For the first time in his life he felt like he was going to cry.
“I know exactly what you mean Pa. I gave up everything I had in life. When mom died….”
“Your mom died?” Interrupted the old man. Himself now becoming teary eyed.
“Well ya, she did. Almost two years ago.”
The two sat in silence. The reality that the connection, which brought them together, was missing became air apparent.
“I’m sorry to hear that son. I loved your mother. Don’t think because I left her and you that I did not care about her. I did. Sometimes a man has to show his love through different outlets even if it doesn’t include affection.”
Every word that Nick Fudge heard from his father he took to heart. Once he finished his beer he began to smile. How is it that he had only previously meant his father once, but the two shared almost identical life stories.
“You know Pa, we ain’t that different. You and I. I left everything too. Hell I’m depressed and all I do Is drive around the country. Looking for something to do or someone to help.”
“You remind me of myself fifteen years ago son. You’re close to the answers your seeking. Don’t think otherwise. The end isn’t a destination. The end is just another journey.”
The old man grabbed two more beers out of the fridge. The two drank them and continued to talk. All night the two drank and talked. Nick Fudge for the first time in a long time felt enlightened. He felt like he wasn’t living a lie but was following a path that leads to the answers he was looking for. His father, although alone seemed to be happy with life. He was a step ahead of Fudge in almost every spiritual category. Fudge felt he had motivation. Motivation to continue his journey.
The night came to an end and Nick Fudge slept on his fathers couch. He woke up in the morning. He took a shower and shared a cup of coffee with his father.
“So son, what now. Where do you go now?”
“I’m heading out East. Maybe I’ll go to Europe. I don’t know where pop. If you’d like you can come with me..."
“No, no son I couldn’t. I got to live my life here.”
“That’s fine pop. I was thinking maybe I’ll find somewhere out on the East coast and settle down. You know. Maybe go fishing every day. Hell maybe I’ll start to wrestle again if my body allows it. For the first time in a long time I have choices and I’m happy with the outcome of all of them.”
“Well I’m glad to hear that son. I think you’ve finally completed that journey you’ve been on. You understand your life now. I’m proud of you.”
Nick Fudge smiled. He was truly thankful for his father. He shook his fathers hand and said his goodbyes. He walked outside, the sun shining and got into his Ford Econoline van. He turned on the ignition and began to drive out of Columbus. He turned on the radio and rolled down the window. He decided not to wear sunglasses today. The sun shined against Nick Fudge’s face, and for the first time in two years Nick Fudge cracked a legit smile. He drove off into the East happy with the road he had chosen and with any outcome that was bound to happen.
The End.
The year was 1997. Nick Fudge was a fresh-faced college graduate. Earning a useless degree in the liberal arts. He was out celebrating in the Columbus area on his way home to Michigan. He graduated from Bowling Green State University on the skin of his teeth. His degree enabled him to do little, but the fact he got through college in seven on again off again years was something he was proud of.
His mother had taken out a second mortgage on her home to pay for Nick Fudge’s education. Nick Fudge was hardly concerned with schooling. He moved away from home at eighteen to begin training to become a professional wrestler. Bowling Green was not his first school. Nick Fudge originally attended Michigan State University and became a popular figure around East Lansing. Nick Fudge’s dedication to training and performing as a wrestler though often found him taking semesters off from college. It eventually led to him being kicked out of Michigan State. This thus led to him moving further south to Bowling Green.
Nick Fudge’s mother often warned him not to go to Bowling Green State University. She insisted that young Nicholas stay out of Ohio. For it held pieces to a puzzle that was best left unsolved. Nick Fudge just thought of this as his mom worrying about his well being too much. Nick Fudge was happy in Bowling Green. No one knew him and anonymity was all he wanted at that point in his life. The Ohio Valley region was a melting pot of Mid-West wrestling circuits. Nick Fudge was happy in Bowling Green. To him, that was the American Dream. He could go to school and during the weekend wrestle with talent all the way from Minnesota to Western Pennsylvania.
By the time Nick Fudge graduated in 1997 he was 27 years old. His degree was useless in the job market, but his experience gained on the wrestling circuit insured him future employment. In fact he planned to travel to California after a month of graduation. There was questions in his life, but he was happy with them being unsolved. He wore no burden of his past and his future was far brighter then he could of dreamed as a child. That is, until this particular night in Columbus, Ohio on his way home from Bowling Green. Fudge had stopped by a roadside bar to enjoy a few drinks and a night of sleep before he embarked on his way home to his mother.
Nick Fudge made no attempt to become acquainted with the patrons of the bar. He sat by himself at the bar drinking a pint of Guinness and watching a Cleveland Indian’s ball game on the small 13 inch television stationed at the end of the bar. He nibbled on the bar popcorn he was provided with. After about an hour Nick Fudge asked for his bill and was getting ready to leave. As Nick Fudge walked out the door of the bar he list up a cigarette. He inhaled on the cancer stick and exhaled smoke into the evening night. He stood outside of the bar smoking till he finished his cigarette. As he began to fumble for his keys in his pocket a middle-aged man approached him. The man, just arriving at the bar appeared to be almost fifty. He had stern icy blue eyes. His jaw was well defined and he was about the same size as Nick Fudge.
“Care if I borrow a smoke?”
Fudge wasn’t hesitated at all and gave the older man a cigarette. Nick Fudge had nothing better to do, so he ignited another cigarette and smoked alongside the older man. The two exchanged in small banter. After the last of the tobacco had burned the old man invited Nick Fudge back into the bar to buy him a drink. Nick Fudge obliged and returned back into the bar. The two sat back on the bar where Fudge was sitting. One drink turned into two, turned into three, turned into shots of Jose Cuervo, turned into four drinks and so on. The two where deep in conversation connecting on many levels sharing many of the same interest.
“…and that’s why I voted for Clinton. He knows how to deal with women!”
The two cracked up over what the older man had said. Nick Fudge also voted for Clinton for the exact same reason. Eventually the focus of the conversation shifted to Nick Fudge.
“Well to tell you the truth old man I’m a semi-professional wrestler with bachelors degree in the liberal arts. I’m going home to see my mom then heading out to the golden coast to bounce around the ropes for a few months to see if that is my true calling.”
“Impressive boy, impressive. Say how is your mother? Its hard to believe you got a college education. I didn’t go to college. That’s impressive!”
“My mom? Well she’s fine sir. I don’t know why you’re asking. Better not be no funny business. And ya, the whole college thing was for her. She would always say, “Nicholas you’ll be the first member of this family to graduate. You’re runaway father and me couldn’t do it. But you can do it”
The booze had took an astounding effect on the two. The room was spinning to Nick Fudge. The old man reached into his pocket and pulled a piece of paper and a pen. He began writing down an address. He handed the paper to Nick Fudge.
“Listen boy. I didn’t mean anything funny asking about your mother’s well-being. That paper has my home address. If you ever in this area for a reason that you’re just not to sure of. Come to this address and ask for me. It’s about time we got out of here.”
The two stood up and stumbled out of the bar. Nick Fudge sat into his car and fell asleep in the seat. The old man managed to drive off into the night. Fudge couldn’t help but feel uplifted about the encounter. The old saying rang true in describing the evening: a drunk mind speaks a sober heart.
Fourteen years have passed since the encounter to the present time. Every now and then Nick Fudge thought back about it. He himself was in Columbus, Ohio. Wayfaring has led him back to that particular city. He planned on meeting the man at the address he gave Fudge all those years ago. Fudge was nervous for the meeting, which was not a common emotion for him. He looked into the mirror in his Ford Econoline van. His stern icy cold eyes glistened in excitement. Something about this meeting felt right to Nick Fudge. He knew it was time to visit the old man again. The old man by now must have been in his sixties. Nick Fudge was in his early 40’s and had not even had a single use for his college diploma. After about thirty minutes of searching Nick Fudge found the address. It led him to a small single story house on the outskirts of Columbus. Fudge parked on the side of the road and saw a light in the small house light up. Butterflies had filled Fudge’s stomach. He stepped out of the van and walked up to the door. He knocked twice. He waited for three minutes. Then as he turned his back he heard the locks open. He turned and as the door opened the old man appeared, older then before. Immediately two sets of stern icy blue eyes locked up. For one minute they stared deep into each others. Nick Fudge’s mouth dried up. He began to feel beads of sweat running down his head. He finally opened his mouth.
“Hello…pa.”
“Hello son”
The two hugged on the porch of the house. Everything Nick Fudge had suspected about the old man was true. He was in fact Fudge’s father. The past few years Nick Fudge began to wonder if it was possible. Whenever he looked in a mirror he couldn’t help but how much he resembled the old man as he was in 1997. The moment was a victory in Fudge’s book. Eventually the embrace ended and the old man invited Fudge inside his adore. The two sat at the dining table. The house was rather clean for a single old man. It was small, but arranged to be perceived as large to the untrained eye. The old man led the conversation.
“So you figured it out. You figured out that I’m your old man. When did you figure it out?” The old man stood and walked to his fridge. He grabbed two beers and cracked them open. He handed one to Nick Fudge and took the other for himself, sitting back down.
“Well to tell you the truth. That night back in 97 I felt a connection I’ve never felt before. The curiosity of our bond is what led me to believe you were my father. Now let me try not to spoil this moment here and ask you to the best I can. What the fuck is your problem. Why was it that I was 27 years old when we first met? Why was it that you knew exactly who I was and you knew my mother on top of that."
The mood quickly took a turn to the dramatic. The old man drank his beer slowly. He looked at the clock and seen the second hand of his clock moving as slow as the minute hand.
“What if I told you son. That what I did was the way things were supposed to happen. We all have demons son. Have you not thought that the choice I made to not be in your life was the right choice for you and your mother? Some people are meant to be alone and I guess I’m just one of them. And by sheer chance in 1997 I stumbled into you. I knew immediately who you were. Your eyes told the whole story. Sometimes I wish that day never happened. Because I know all the searching in my life would become futile if we were to meet beforehand. Son, some people are just meant to be alone and roam the lands doing their best to fulfill a cause that isn’t so easily identifiable. A cause that doesn’t include family.”
Nick Fudge took his fathers words like a sponge would take water. He drank his beer. His eyes were bloodshot. For the first time in his life he felt like he was going to cry.
“I know exactly what you mean Pa. I gave up everything I had in life. When mom died….”
“Your mom died?” Interrupted the old man. Himself now becoming teary eyed.
“Well ya, she did. Almost two years ago.”
The two sat in silence. The reality that the connection, which brought them together, was missing became air apparent.
“I’m sorry to hear that son. I loved your mother. Don’t think because I left her and you that I did not care about her. I did. Sometimes a man has to show his love through different outlets even if it doesn’t include affection.”
Every word that Nick Fudge heard from his father he took to heart. Once he finished his beer he began to smile. How is it that he had only previously meant his father once, but the two shared almost identical life stories.
“You know Pa, we ain’t that different. You and I. I left everything too. Hell I’m depressed and all I do Is drive around the country. Looking for something to do or someone to help.”
“You remind me of myself fifteen years ago son. You’re close to the answers your seeking. Don’t think otherwise. The end isn’t a destination. The end is just another journey.”
The old man grabbed two more beers out of the fridge. The two drank them and continued to talk. All night the two drank and talked. Nick Fudge for the first time in a long time felt enlightened. He felt like he wasn’t living a lie but was following a path that leads to the answers he was looking for. His father, although alone seemed to be happy with life. He was a step ahead of Fudge in almost every spiritual category. Fudge felt he had motivation. Motivation to continue his journey.
The night came to an end and Nick Fudge slept on his fathers couch. He woke up in the morning. He took a shower and shared a cup of coffee with his father.
“So son, what now. Where do you go now?”
“I’m heading out East. Maybe I’ll go to Europe. I don’t know where pop. If you’d like you can come with me..."
“No, no son I couldn’t. I got to live my life here.”
“That’s fine pop. I was thinking maybe I’ll find somewhere out on the East coast and settle down. You know. Maybe go fishing every day. Hell maybe I’ll start to wrestle again if my body allows it. For the first time in a long time I have choices and I’m happy with the outcome of all of them.”
“Well I’m glad to hear that son. I think you’ve finally completed that journey you’ve been on. You understand your life now. I’m proud of you.”
Nick Fudge smiled. He was truly thankful for his father. He shook his fathers hand and said his goodbyes. He walked outside, the sun shining and got into his Ford Econoline van. He turned on the ignition and began to drive out of Columbus. He turned on the radio and rolled down the window. He decided not to wear sunglasses today. The sun shined against Nick Fudge’s face, and for the first time in two years Nick Fudge cracked a legit smile. He drove off into the East happy with the road he had chosen and with any outcome that was bound to happen.
The End.
