Here I am to see the first live professional wrestling event of my life! Strangely enough, after watching just one time at my new friend, Jacob Whatley's flat, I was mesmerized. Grown men. Barbarians by the size and strength of them, in a pageant, or play, acting as if they are doing battle for supremacy. Like Roman gladiators mixed with ancient actors! Captivating! I never had a television at home or internet devices. Some folks, from Thimphu, had electronic gadgets; I never did, nor did I have any desire to stare at some hand-held device for hours as some folks do. It seemed devilish to me. Upon arriving in London, I had to get one though; a phone that is.
I immediately found refuge in a "backpacking" hostel and set off to explore the city. The desk people told me where to get "cheap" phones with "limited data" and I secured one immediately. I didn't really know how to use it though. And I really didn't have much interest. The shop owner told me to dial 999 if I was in trouble, to get help from the police when I asked how the device can help me the most. I thought that was enough to have for my safety. I thanked the kind man at the shop and went on my adventure!
With getting lost in the hustle and bustle of downtown London, which was a regular thing for me, and not having the money to take taxi-cabs; one evening, I grew overly exhausted. I had to sit and rest and collect my thoughts, and then find my hostel again. That's when I met Jacob. He was about my age, a native of London, and asked me if I needed change while I sat with my back upon a building wall with my full backpack at my side. I guess I looked like a "beggar", or so I was told they are called later. After all, my clothing, although the newest and most "western" I could find before coming here, seemed fairly ragged in comparison to the residents. Looking around, I noticed older guys, wearing more ragged clothes than I, with long beards and steel carts from shopping centers laying about, sleeping, or just staring straight ahead. I had to ask Jacob, the young man who just offered me help,
"Oh! My name is Druk! I just moved here to London a couple of days ago. At least I have a temporary visa. I come from Bhutan. I have a hostel but have lost my way. Could you help me? And who are these old men sleeping on the streets? Why don't they go home? Are they lost like me?"
Jacob burst into laughter! He then gave me solid directions knowing exactly where I was going, The Safestay London Elephant and Castle, told me the men were "broken-bums", a term I had no reference for, and left me more confused.
He then asked me,
"That hostel is a bullseye a night, at least! I reckon you have a few monkeys in that pack, eh?"
I had no idea what he was saying. After some hilarious banter about me not having live animals in my backpack, which actually was a reference about money, we found out what the other was talking about, and no, I didn't have much. The Safestay was going to clean me out in less than a week. I needed something else. My parents had given me a little money they had saved up for an emergency, I had my earnings from teaching and tutoring for a year in Thimphu, and my grandpa had left me many household items to sell in Thimphu, which I did. It didn't amount to that much, especially when I traded all my cash for British pounds.
Later, I learned who the men were, on the streets that is. Homeless men. Of all the things! Here I was from a poor country, coming to a historically rich and powerful country, finding out that there are actually people living here who have no homes, no jobs, no money, and most strange of all; no one to help them! All the folks who live in this city, with nice flats, new cars, great jobs, and lavish lifestyles; and not one of them shares to help these poor people! Certainly, a lesson to learn about greed was laid out in front of me! As soon as I earned some money and got on my feet, I thought, I would come back here and help these poor souls!
Anyway, after I stood up and shook Jacob's hand, he pulled two tickets from his pack and invited me to come along with him to a "wrestling" show the next night. He also invited me to his flat to "crash" for as long as I needed to. Truly remarkable. Here was an Englishman, from the heart of London, offering me refuge upon meeting me, and not actually knowing me at all. How could I think all of the people were terrible? And what a juxtaposition! Helping me so quickly, yet leaving those men laying behind who were in much worse shape than I!
Well, that night we watched a live WWE show on his TV, at his flat, and ate a load of "junk" food. So salty! It made my stomach ache! As for the show, I was captivated, as I said before. What a spectacle. The show we would attend the next night wasn't WWE, no, it was a smaller "promotion" as Jacob called it, the LWA, and even more entertaining, so he said. Marvelous!
Upon entering the arena, the next evening, and finding our seats, I noticed a couple of the wrestlers standing beside the ring which we were super close to, being in the first row, and I was taken aback by their size. Monsters! I thought Jacob was big! Being about 190cm, with his straggly blond hair falling over his blue eyes and ragged beard; he was taller than any friend I had ever had. These wrestlers though! They looked as if they could snap poor Jacob in two without breaking a sweat! And me! As short as I was among westerners; these monsters could eat me for dinner and still be hungry for dessert!
The event was awesome! Such physical strength and agility! Just amazing! We have Keshey, the Bhutanese wrestling events back home. They are nothing like this though! Punches, kicks, jumps, and flips; moves that I had never dreamt of before! And despite being marvelous athletes, these guys could act as well, putting on a delightful show for the audience. A villain cursing at the crowd or cheating in the ring! The hero, fighting for his rights and the rights of the common man! Captivating action for sure; pageantry of the age! During the final match, something happened. Something inexplicable! A kind of power, some sort of magic! I will try to explain:
The two powerhouses were going at it in the ring. One of the men, however, just didn't seem right. Something was off. Jacob commented that his "move set" didn't match with what he was known to do. And he was doing moves he shouldn't be able to do because of his size. He was a giant. Well over two meters tall and 22 stone! Yet he was leaping from the top rope, doing summersaults, and showing aerial moves that even the "cruiserweights" as Jacob called them could never pull off. The crowd was shocked and hushed. Once the show was over and his hand was raised in victory, I saw him. Not the giant powerhouse going by the name of "Bonebreaker", but the true man, well not a man but a creature wrestling inside of him! A small, demonic-looking spirit stood, no bigger than a child, with dark red eyes and a charcoal body, unclothed, with scales running over his skin. The referee had his hand raised in victory, and his opponent rolled out of the ring and looked to be injured. The worse of it all was; he knew I could see him. We were standing in the front row with just the guardrail in front of us and his eyes locked with mine, he tilted his head, showed his fanged teeth with a ghastly grin, and flew directly at me in a furry!
The body of the Bonebreaker fell, as he passed out in the ring. As this spirit shot at me, instinctively, I put my hand out, palm facing the demon, as if to brace for the impact. Fire shot from my hands! Fire! It shot out, blasting the demon backward and slamming him against the ring post which fell over, while the burning demon flailed upon the concrete floor outside of the ring!
I passed out.
When I awoke, I was at Jacob's place, on the sofa, covered with a thick quilt embroidered by hand with many colors weaving together in a dizzying pattern. I sat up. Jacob was sitting on a chair near me, watching TV intently, snaking on the store-bought cookies that seemed his main course of sustenance each day.
"Jacob! What happened? That demon! I burned him! Did anyone get hurt?" I shouted while sitting up, sweating, and panting hard.
"Whoa-whoa-whoa, their bloke! Be calm! Be calm! You look all hot, sorry, eh. You were shivering earlier, so I put my grandma's quilt on ya! Now, what were you saying? Fire? There was no fire! After the bout, you passed out! Jet-lag got ya I suppose! I carried your arse back to my flat! Heavier than you look!" he responded.
"You didn't see it? It flew at me! The demon, inside of Bonebreaker?"
"No, no, bloke! You've seriously gotta couple screws loose in that noggen of yers!"
"Didn't anything strange happen? Anything out of the ordinary at all?"
"Of course, bloke! The Bonebreaker flying about like superman, you gotta remember that! His giant arse flyin' off the top turnbuckle and all! Then, just before you passed out, he passed out after the match! Fell over like a ton of bricks! And then the ring shook back and forth all crazy, knocking the official over while one of the ring posts fell over! Folks thought it was an earthquake or something, except nothing else shook like that! Strange doesn't explain it all! Well worth the score I paid for the tickets, although! Good thing my mate couldn't come, for you at any rate! Great time, bloke!"
I just nodded and shut up. What happened? Who was that demon? How could I shoot fire from my palms like a wizard or superhero? How could Jacob, or anyone else for that matter not see it happen? If this show was recorded, by anyone, I had to see the file.