Under The Learning Tree

Gravel crunched underneath Slater’s shoes, disturbing the mellow nature of dawn. Behind him followed a packed travel case, protecting the items he could not leave without. There was no secret to hide, no affair to cover-up. Once he unlocked his car, a silver Chevrolet 2015 Malibu, his intentions were abundantly clear.

His wrestling journey had begun again.

Storing the case inside the trunk was the easy part; saying farewell to Amy and Gabriel was going to be a complicated issue. The world knew where he was headed, but as much as Amy understood his aspirations, she could not withstand the thought of impending peril. For days she had questioned his decision, hoping he would heed her words of reason. Only once did he consider the ramifications, but he was unable to take her side. The deal had already been made. The manipulative beast had become too strong to tame.

Slater looked back towards his home, seeing the faint lamp lights through the curtain-covered windows. Soon there would be no need for electrical lighting. As he walked back, he caught a glimpse of the growing sunshine above the trees, spreading across the sky like rampaging wildfire.

Returning to the front porch, Slater wiped his shoes dry before entering the premises. A quick check of his pockets brought up no concerns, verifying he had everything in order. All that was left was to finalize his departure, starting with the youngest and dearest person in his heart.

Slater opened Gabriel’s bedroom door gently, not wanting to disturb his son’s blissful slumber. He would only be absent from home for a few days, but he could not bear to witness Gabriel’s panic and confusion. He had been too young to understand his parents’ separation before, but now he had grown accustomed to Slater’s company, reaching an age where abandonment would severely affect his mental state.

Lightly walking into the room, Slater took a soft seat at the end of Gabriel’s bed. His son’s snores were minimal; youthfully pleasant. As always, Gabriel could only sleep with his Iron Man figure in hand. The plastic toy rested on top of the blanket, hard to describe amidst the morning gloom. However, Gabriel had decided to sleep with two figures this time; one he held, and the other that lay face-down near the edge of the bed.

Slater picked up the lonesome Spiderman toy, holding it close to his face so he could make out its details against the light of the upper hallway. Gabriel’s catalogue of comic book heroes seemed to be growing, even though he was still too young to properly learn their individual backgrounds. These days it was easy to research something or someone on the internet, and Gabriel would no doubt utilize it to expand his knowledge of these heroes and their rivals in later years.

Calvin Harris could learn something useful from that.

As Slater smiled and balanced the figure on Gabriel’s bedside table, he felt another presence enter the room. Without investigating their arrival, he allowed himself to relax, patiently watching Gabriel until a familiar hand caressed his back.

‘He’ll be fine,’ Amy whispered. The fresh scent of vanilla perfume filled his nostrils. ‘Let’s talk outside.’

After a few seconds of silence, Slater delicately brushed his fingers over Gabriel’s dark-blonde hair. He wanted to protect him and be there for him; always and forever. ‘I’ll be back soon, son.’

He found it hard to leave the room, but once he stood in the second-floor hallway with Amy, closing the door calmly was an effortless action. Now only one remained.

‘Have you eaten?’ Amy asked, making this enquiry as the pair walked down the stairs.

‘Yes.’

‘Do you have all of your supplies?’

‘Yes.’

‘Is there enough fuel in the car?’

‘Amy…’ Slater could not handle any more of her questions. She was acting like an overbearing mother. ‘Everything is going to be okay. You need to stop worrying.’

‘I can’t stop worrying!’ Amy admitted. The two of them now occupied the front entrance, stood between the safety of home and the dark, unknown beyond. ‘You haven’t competed in over a year. What if Calvin Harris does break your face? How am I supposed to cope with that?’

Slater shrugged nonchalantly. ‘As I’ve already told him, he’ll have to learn to kick from the ground to break me. I won’t let him do to me what he did to Katie. He won’t break my face, but I will break his ego.’

Amy had become acquainted with their intense Twitter exchange. Calvin threatened further injury, whereas Slater not only swore to prevent such a catastrophe, but to also avenge Katie Moicelle’s painful loss in the name of respect. She did not deserve that kind of treatment, even if Professional Wrestling was a harsh, unforgiving world. Slater understood that all too well.

‘I will be watching your match, Matt, even though I wouldn’t like to. So don’t get annoyed if I start screaming down the phone at you afterwards.’

‘You can scream all you want. That’s what everyone else in the arena will be doing.’

Slater smirked, hoping Amy would do the same. She did; barely.

‘Well, before you go, I have some ground rules.’ Slater decided not to quarrel, allowing Amy to exert her momentary authority. ‘You will call me when you get there, you will call me before you come back, you will not stay up late, and you better not go out drinking with “the boys”.’

Taking her points in stride, Slater lowered his body with a courteous bow. ‘Your words are my command, m’lady.’

The resultant laughter eased her sorrow somewhat, but unfortunately it could not last. As Amy rediscovered the brevity of the situation, her smile slowly wilted into a woeful frown. Several seconds of happiness cut short by lingering gloom, and Slater could not do anything to alleviate his lover’s pain.

‘Just…’ Amy had trouble mustering the energy to speak. ‘Stay safe, okay?’

His hands touched her arms, offering warmth that would eventually subside. ‘For you, I’ll do whatever it takes.’ A moment later he leaned forward, firmly pressing his lips against her own.

Neither wanted to break the kiss. Spectators would have called it uncomfortable; to them it was a definitive bond. After a while Slater decided to end the moment, but he was thwarted by Amy’s loving persistence, lightly biting down on his lip and drawing him back in. Tears welled up beneath her eyelids, although they failed to roll down her moisturised face.

Finally she let him go, knowing full well it was too late to prevent his journey. Slater stared into her eyes a moment longer, wanting to remember them, wanting them to guide him. Her sapphire irises lingered in his mind as he left the house, strolling towards his car and opening the door. The trunk was already locked tight; so too was his contractual obligation.

Soon he would reach Thunder Bay, well-prepared to enter the Fort William Gardens and seal his fate. Inside the car, he looked down at the sword pendant around his neck. The past was the past; hopefully the future would offer a more pleasant experience.

With a gracious smile, he turned his head towards Amy. She still stood in the doorway, hugging herself for comfort. Believe in me.

Once the engine switched on, there was no turning back. Here we go again.

His foot pressed down on the accelerator. The last he saw of his beloved was her solemn wave in the rear-view mirror.




Mount McKay stands over 1,400 feet above sea level on the outskirts of Thunder Bay. A popular attraction, locals and tourists can witness the entirety of Thunder Bay and Lake Superior from the highest altitude on the eastern plateau. It is still considered a must-do for nature enthusiasts and bucket lists, but reaching the top can be a difficult quest to complete.

Undeterred, Slater opted to navigate this treacherous path, being guided by support beams and metal cable. Dirt swept beneath his feet as he stumbled up the steep incline, focused only on keeping his balance. He had done enough training for the time-being. Now he wanted to view Thunder Bay from above, and he would not be alone.

‘Couldn’t we just… conduct the interview... from the ground?’

Catherine Sherman, a Sports Columnist for TB News Watch, nervously followed Slater up the hiking trail. Their meeting had been arranged in advance, but Catherine did not expect him to change location. In her mind she pictured an office room or a garden, somewhere safe and easily accessible. This was certainly different, but now she was beginning to regret accepting his plan.

‘You’ll enjoy the scenery,’ Slater said comfortingly. He had always been a fan of landscapes; sunrise and sunset, tropical and arctic. ‘Just make sure you…’

A loose stone caused Catherine’s foot to skid, prompting a shriek of terror that ended Slater’s speech. He paused to evaluate her progress, only to acknowledge a woman on the brink of madness, leaning against the strong, mafic face of the mountain. Her wide eyes stared toward the ground, her mouth agape in traumatic shock. Of course she failed to move, convinced that the next step would send her plummeting to her death.

‘Perhaps you should walk ahead of me.’

‘Or, ya know, we can just stop and turn around like sane people!’

The path was wide enough to allow two people to walk side-by-side, but it was clear Catherine’s anxiety was going to slow them down. He did not want to put her life in danger, even though the amount of deaths on the mountain were surprisingly slim. Perhaps we should have stayed on the ground.

Slater offered a hand, ensuring that she would be protected at all costs. She took his hand reluctantly, all the while mouthing prayers that Slater could not hear.

‘We’re almost at the top anyway,’ he said, looking upward to calculate their distance. ‘You should sing a song to calm your nerves.’

‘Can I take a shot of morphine instead?’ Catherine replied, unable to take her eyes off the dirt-laden path. ‘I suppose this is how… you control your fear.’

‘My fear?’

‘Well… you are fresh out of retirement.’

Obviously there were questions abound regarding Slater’s fitness and ability. Is he washed up, is he really that healthy? The only time they would know was Armed and Dangerous. There they would see him again, and there they would test their expectations.

‘I’ve always been afraid of failure,’ Slater revealed. ‘More so now, actually. Everyone is expecting my best, and I can’t disappoint them. I don’t want to fail as a wrestler, but more importantly, I don’t want to fail as a father. I don’t want to fail as a role model to my son.’

‘Mhm… my husband acts the same way with our son. He turned two a few months ago!’

Catherine stumbled again, causing her white-knuckle grip to tighten.

‘What’s his name?’

‘Jake,’ she answered happily, quickly erasing her second mistake from memory. The conversation seemed to be taking her mind off their collective venture.

‘My son is called Gabriel. He turns six in November.’

‘And your wife?’

Slater flinched. ‘We’re not legally married. Not anymore.’

‘So you’re both…?’

‘We’re still together, if you were implying the opposite. It’s a long story.’

‘I can handle long stories,’ Catherine laughed. Somehow Slater had momentarily forgotten who he was talking to.

‘Honestly, I’d rather keep the details confidential.’

‘Do I sense a tale of jealousy, forbidden romance and dramatic confrontations?’

Slater said nothing. Catherine took the hint, even though her curious mind begged for an answer.

Before they knew it, both Slater and Catherine reached the peak of the trail. Once they walked onto the flat surface of Mount McKay’s highest point, Catherine collapsed with euphoria, relieved to have avoided any serious injury.

‘Thank God! We did it! I’m alive!’ Catherine moved her hands across the mountain rock, appearing as though she would never stand up on her weakened legs again.

‘Since you’re still alive, you should take a look at this.’

Intrigued by how high up they were, Catherine pushed herself up and, trembling at the knees, wandered towards Slater. He stood near an erected lookout post, enamoured by the miniscule scale of Thunder Bay. The moment Catherine joined him, it took her breath away. Both of them stared at the world below; an environment frozen in panoramic beauty.

‘Wow…’ Catherine gasped, hypnotized by the scenery. ‘You were right. This is incredible!’

‘It’s definitely worth the effort,’ Slater said. At that moment, he wished he could have shared this experience with Amy and Gabriel. ‘I hope my second outing in wrestling is the same.’

Understandably fatigued from stress, Catherine settled down onto the smooth mountain top. She then produced a tape recorder from her jacket, not only knowing that whatever they discussed would be documented and utilized later for her online article, but wanting to get through the interview as soon as possible.

A few seconds later, she turned the recorder on. ‘Why did you decide to come out of retirement?’

Slater focused on the middle-aged columnist, realizing his interview had unexpectedly begun. Despite asking this question, Catherine continued to view the bright landscape, not even paying attention to Slater as he gradually sat down.

‘For the past year I’ve been the Head Coach at an academy called the Simcoe Wrestling Club. Out of ten students, only seven graduated. Those that quit complained about the harsh conditions, but that’s wrestling for you. Discipline generates focus, and focus generates determination. In order to succeed, that knowledge is invaluable. But when I was training them, the itch to compete returned. I started to miss the competition, the audience. I tried to hold it off, but deep inside, I wanted to go back.’

‘Was that all it took?’

Slater shrugged, taking some time to contemplate his answer. ‘I was forced to retire due to injury. Now that my injuries have substantially healed, I knew I could go back any time I wanted. So I passed a medical examination in Toronto, negotiated some terms with the staff at VoW, and then the contract was drawn up and signed.’

Catherine nodded. ‘I’m sure you intend to achieve great things in VoW.’

‘Nothing compares to the satisfaction of achievement. Winning a championship, becoming a father, being responsible for a new generation of wrestlers. Reaching this pinnacle with you today has been no different. But I don’t want to hunt for those achievements. I want to have a purpose in wrestling. I’d like to be influential in some capacity, no matter how small the significance.’

Mentally searching for another question to ask - she had spent the previous evening doing her homework on Slater’s career - Catherine located a controversial topic. Before she could even utter a single word, she hesitated. Slater frowned quizzically, wondering why she was taking so long.

Eventually, Catherine caved.

‘The last time anyone saw you in the ring, you were embroiled in a personal conflict with Seth Iser. Do you think you could stomach confronting him again, and if you could, what do you think would happen?’

Predictably, Slater lowered his head. Catherine immediately felt uncomfortable, but she could not feel guilty. It was her job to push the boundaries, to dig out the answers the public craved.

‘I have no idea…’ Slater replied coldly. He could still remember his punishing ordeal; the Red Mist, the indescribable agony, the Tombstone Piledriver. Within his mind the mask returned, bringing forth his dormant rage. ‘Retribution never crossed my mind.’

‘So you’re going to accept what happened and move on?’

His fingers scraped the dirt, forming lines of aggravation. ‘Accepting defeat is a noble quality few possess. But even then, I can’t accept what he did to me, and what he did to my friends. If he wishes to conclude his mission, then I will have no qualms about stopping him.’

Catherine moved her hair behind her ear, common sense telling her to lighten the mood. ‘Let’s discuss something else.’

For the next twenty minutes, Slater and Catherine discussed several varying topics, ranging from which wrestlers Slater wanted to compete against in VoW, to why he decided to live in Canada. Despite the decreasing temperatures, the two found the interview comfortable and engaging. Unfortunately, there was only so much Catherine could record, prompting her to finalize the interview by discussing Slater’s current objective.

‘Since Calvin Harris will be your opponent at Armed and Dangerous, is there anything you’d like to say about him?’

Slater did not hesitate. ‘Once you’ve met one egomaniac, you’ve met them all.’ That was all he said. Naturally, Catherine furrowed her eyebrows, obviously wanting to get more out of him.

‘Could you elaborate on that for me?’ Her article needed to be perfect; intriguing enough to read, yet long enough to be taken seriously.

‘Calvin Harris has been a professional wrestler for four years now. What he lacks in experience he makes up for in confidence. That would be acceptable if it wasn’t for his egotistical attitude. I fail to believe he has the highest-paid salary in the company. I also fail to believe he’s the best wrestler the company has. It’s easy to exaggerate the truth to gain attention. With the sheer amount of talent VoW possesses, he couldn’t stand idly by. He wanted to be noticed. He needed to be noticed.’

Catherine continued to listen, unable to take her eyes off his serious expression.

‘He’s done rather well getting under people’s skin, hasn’t he? He refuses to applaud the accomplishments of others, but I can understand why. I have a pretty good theory. He wants the world to revolve around him. To compensate for his lacklustre record thus far, he wants to become the center of the universe. He wants to feel special. Can you blame him for that? No one wants to be forgotten. No one wants to leave this life with a whimper. It’s easy to be disregarded and lost amongst the crowd, but that’s what he intends to change. His words are a means to a legacy he has yet to craft, and what better way to bolden that legacy than to present delusions of grandeur. An expensive salary, a talent unmatched? That would certainly intrigue me.’

Slater paused, studying the passing clouds for a brief moment. The high winds carried a feeling of oncoming winter, causing Catherine’s body to shiver.

‘Unfortunately, Calvin’s claim to fame has not been his wrestling ability, which I don’t deny he has. It’s been his wrestling lineage. I am aware of the Harris family name, with his Uncle, Michael Harris, being the most recognizable. However, his attempts to succeed them have been mediocre in VoW. No one wants to let their family down, especially one that made their name in wrestling. But once he left the nest, once he flew from their sight and came to VoW, the pressure has built up so much that it has led to pure frustration. And that frustration led to Breakthrough #33. I’m sure you’ve heard about what happened.’

‘I’ve heard bits and pieces,’ Catherine replied.

‘There’s a logical reason why he brutalized Katie Moicelle without remorse, Catherine. Could you live your life as a punch-line? Could you wander the streets of Chicago on a daily basis, putting up with the endless mockery? Could you look your family members in the eye, family members that helped train you, family members that expected you to accomplish great things, and properly explain to them how you lost a match in such a humiliating fashion? That was why he did what he did to Katie. His insecurities controlled him. He refused to accept that calamity. He refused to be the laughing stock, and as a persecuted victim of the system, as he loves to believe, he took his frustrations out on a young woman. And then he thought her decimation was enough to warrant a reward? Well, if he wants to be given a reward, he should take his frustrations out on me.’

‘In some ways you seem to be his reward,’ Catherine humorously said.

‘I wouldn’t consider myself Calvin’s reward. I’d consider myself a judge. That was why Sky Sangue made me his opponent. He needs to prove to me what he believes himself to be. He needs to prove to me that the Harris name will live on, that it won’t decompose by his hand. He needs to earn my respect, and to tell you the truth, I don’t think he’ll be able. I’m not going to take a page out of his book and act ignorant, unenthused or appalled. I’m not going to say he doesn’t matter, because right now he does matter. He has been noticed. His talent has been noted. For what he has done over the past four years, it really is remarkable what a young mind can achieve. But if he thinks I’m a pushover, he’ll quickly realize his mistake in due course. He needs to sit under the learning tree, Catherine. He needs to be taught respect, something his family obviously never instilled in him.’

Once again Slater looked towards the miniscule city. To Catherine, his words carried both wisdom and strictness. He intended to become a positive example of wrestling, upholding the traditional aspects of the sport with a good heart.

‘The amusing thing is, Calvin and I share a common trait. We’re both afraid of failure. Calvin strives to never fail again, because one more loss could irreparably crush his spirit. But this match, as much as it is about earning respect, will be based on who doesn’t want to fail more. The young upstart with everything to prove, or the seasoned veteran embarking on a second journey. I can’t afford to lose at Armed and Dangerous, Catherine. The amount of training I’ve done, the heart I’ve given to return, the emotional instability my decision has caused… I don’t want my efforts to end in vain. I won’t disappoint the fans, I won’t disappoint my students, and I sure as hell won’t upset my family. At Armed and Dangerous, my desire will prevail, and Calvin Harris will understand just what it means to learn things the hard way.’

Moments later, Catherine discontinued the recording. She definitely had enough material to use, but how she connected his words together was going to take some time to plan.

‘Thanks for the interview, Matt.’

‘It’s been a pleasure,’ Slater replied, finally sharing a smile. As the two stood up, Catherine analysed their current whereabouts.

'Ya know, this is rather symbolic for you, isn't it? I mean, you were at the top of the mountain once before, and then you left it due to injury. Now you're - we're - standing on this one and it's like... a reflection of what used to be, and what could be again.'

After taking her comments on board, Slater raised an eyebrow. 'Every wrestler does intend on making it to the top. If they didn't have that motivation, this sport isn't for them.'

'Plus some wrestlers seem to have their head stuck in the clouds,' Catherine joked, citing their natural instinct to be egotistical in order to validate their careers.

'I've known a lot of them. Calvin Harris will be the next one on that list.'

The winds picked up again, battering Slater and Catherine with coldness. Shuddering through the high weather cycle, Catherine gazed around in search of something; something she deemed vitally important.

‘So… how are we going to get back down?’

As soon as Slater chuckled, Catherine’s skin turned alarmingly pale. The despairing realization had set in for her.

‘Oh, no-no-no-no-no-no! Not again! Not again!’

Overwhelmed by panic, Catherine sunk to her knees, trembling with unbearable anxiety. Meanwhile Slater took one last look at the enthralling landscape, and it was only then he took out his phone and captured the scene on camera.

‘That’s the problem with mountains,’ he said, directing his words towards Thunder Bay. Becoming distracted by his phone, Slater loaded up Twitter. The face of Calvin Harris soon dominated his screen, showing off his conditioned physique and arrogant smile.

‘No one stays at the peak for very long. Everyone comes back down to earth from the clouds... one way or another.’