Post by Your Papi, Hanari Carnes on Aug 23, 2023 23:33:18 GMT -5
The car rolled down the rickety old roads, heading towards the airport on the northern shore of the island. Pedro wasn't the best driver in the world, but then again the Dominican is a world leader in auto accidents so who is a good driver around here? Hanari looked out the window as the only world he ever knew passed him by. It felt like, somewhere in the pit of his stomach, that this was goodbye. He knew it wasn't, but he also didn't know what America had in store for him. If he was even a quarter successful in the "Land of Opportunity", would he even want to come back here?
He couldn't imagine not.
As the landscape around him began to become more and more urban the closer they got to the metropolis, the pit in Hanari's stomach began to grow in size.
"Pedro, quita esta salida, necesito manejar algo, (pull off this exit, I need to handle something)" Hanari said, trying to choke back any emotion he may be feeling. He tried to tell himself he wasn't.
Pedro looked at him, knowing what Hanari was talking about. He tried to hide a smile as he nodded, tipped his fedora, and put on his blinker.
The place they were going was a place that Hanari hadn't been in some time. A place that had given him so much opportunity, taught him so much, but also brought him more pain than anywhere else he had ever been.
The grass began to get longer and longer, and the buildings more and more in shambles. This was the REAL Dominican, the one they don't show you in the travel agency brochures. It didn't last long, though, as Pedro was going damn near 130 kilmometers and hour down these roads, weaving in and out of the barely running cars that got in the way. Hanari turned on the radio, listening to sounds of the island as Pedro finally began to slow the car down as they came to a nice (by the standards of the area) development. Pulling into the neighborhood, and bouncing over a pot hole, Hanari began to read the signs in his head, saying them to himself in his head as they passed each one. Finally, after what felt like it took a day, the car rolled up on a big house, at least 4 bedrooms, with nice blue paint and white shutters, the nations flag hanging from the lamppost.
As the car sputtered to a stop, the door creaked open. Pedro's car was nicer than most around, but it still had a hell of a time handling the way he drove it. A designer dress shoe and hemmed pants stepped out, as Hanari put his foot down on the cracked pavement for the first time in years. He wasn't supposed to come here, and he promised he wouldn't.
This was different. This had to be.
As he walked slowly up the driveway, he shoes crunching underneath him, he looked at the building that he owed 20 years of his life. Curtains moved, windows opened and shut, doors cracked open slightly at all the houses nearby. In the Dominican, everyone knows everything within their community. This particular community loved Hanari. The children ran out into the street to see him, only to be called back sternly by their mothers. Everyone knew that this was a gamble being taken by a man who had nothing left to lose here.
Life is a gamble. Viva la dominicana.
Getting to the front door, he pulled a little on the scarf around his designer button down, and breathed deep. He knocked, and waited.
The grass was long, but more well kept than some of the lawns around this house. The paint was at least a decade newer. There was a car in the driveway, 2013 model year. Toyota. By far the newest around.
He knocked again.
This time the door opened, and in front of him stood the closest thing he had ever seen to an angel. The woman, 5'5 in frame, long black hair, and the warmest, most loving face in the entire Caribbean, stood in the doorway--so close he could smell her perfume. She smelled of the tropics, the ocean breeze, pina colada's.
Her expression, however, told a different story.
Her face contorted, she snarled a bit, and he swore he saw a tear well up in her eye. The toughest person he had ever known looked as though she were about to have a full on breakdown.
"Madre, he vuelto para decir adiós." (Mother, I have come back to say goodbye.)
The following dialogue is in Spanish, this is the translation:
"Hanari......"
Her voice was static, molded by years of cigarettes and yelling into rotary phone receivers, mostly at his father.
"Hanari, why are you here, I told you not to come here."
"Mother, I have come back to say goodbye"
"So, goodbye".
She went to shut the door, he stopped it with his foot.
"Mother, listen, this is important. This isn't a hustle, this isn't a joke. I leave for a major opportunity in a few hours and I wanted to say goodbye before I left...because....well.....I may not be back."
The woman opened the door more, shifting her weight. A few children, younger than Hanari but old enough to know what was happening, sat on couches in the room behind her, looking at the door with curious eyes. Some of them didn't even know who Hanari was, and that was what she wanted.
"You come here, on the eve of some big life event, to tell me you may not be back? Hanari, you do this all the time. Everything is a big event for you. Hell, you could sneeze into a rag and show my how much snot you shot! You're proud of it...but I don't need to be told everything."
Hanari was a bit taken aback.
"Why are you being so cold, Mother? This is a big opportunity for me, for real, and I think you will be proud of me."
"I was proud of you when you finally moved out."
Hanari expected this, but it still stung.
"After all I have done for you, Mother. This house, that car, the clothes, the food, the power--AC and lights--the plumbing. All me. Without it, you'd be on the streets somewhere. I am sorry, but it is true. Ever since Dad left, I have had to provide for this family, and I would think you'd at least be somewhat grateful!"
The woman scoffed.
"All of this! This is all dirty. This is all bought and paid for with dirty money! Filthy! It has blood on it! I can smell it!"
"You drive it, you wear it, you eat it....."
"And I hate myself every day. What have you done for this family besides bring shame?! You have robbed, stole, hell even KILLED."
"Show me the police report."
"Come on Hanari, we both know these things come at a price more than a paycheck in the Dominican. We both know that these things come at the price of another human's suffering, and now you come here and try to throw it in my face because I don't want to be associated with something so evil?!"
Hanari was getting offended, this was a bit much, but he expected her to be upset. He figured the best strategy was to keep going. She was listening, at least.
"I am going to America"
Her eyes shot open even wider than they already were.
"I am going to America to become a wrestler, mother."
The woman laughed. She outright laughed. It took her a good 5 minutes to stop laughing. Hanari stood there, waiting, unwavering, knowing he needed to continue.
"Yes, Mother, a professional wrestler. Like Ramón Álvarez, Rafael Sánchez and the current WWE star Levis Valenzuela Jr, or No Way Jose, as he goes by."
One of the teens in the back chimed in. "I love him!"
"Hush!" The mother snapped.
"I am going to make an honest buck, for once, Mother, and I wanted to tell you I leave tonight. I have a match in some place called Idaho, in the United States, and I am signed to a show called Anarchy, and a company called OCW. This is the real deal, mother. This is an opportunity for me to do something good in your eyes. Something to redeem myself in the eyes of my family. Something to bring pride to not just the Carnes family, but to the entire island."
The woman just stared at Hanari, but somewhere deep down he could tell she was proud.
For once.
"....and I came here to tell you that, depending how it goes, I may not be able to come back for a while, if ever. I will send money, American Dollars, but I may not be able to deliver it in person."
His mother, whose name was Giselle, looked him up and down.
"Who did you rob for those clothes?"
"Mother, really?"
"Look......just do it. Just go be a wrestler. Go to America. Be the best you can be, but don't you EVER, and I mean ever Hanari, forget where you came from."
She hugged him, and without saying another word shut the door.
Hanari walked back down to the car.
"How did it go?" Pedro asked, puffing on a cigar.
"Lets head to the airport."
The car pulled out, crunching more on the uneven roads, and peeling off the way only an over-valued beater can, leaving the only life Hanari ever knew behind him.
"Senior Anderson,
This match, mang, es personal. Ya dig? I know nothing abou' chu other than you are a cornball who has made a habit of being a speedbag so far in OCW. A speedback with a balding mouthpiece and a little puta piece of ass sister, cha?. Chu and her, nothing but warm up dolls, ya hear? Hanari has heard. Hanari comes into dis match as the new guy, sí, an' may be new to dis whole wrestling thang but when it come to surviving, chico, Hanari has done that his whole life! Chu can't even get mi name correct, and Hanari is supposed to take you seriously? Could have been honest mistake, sí, but Hanari doubts it. Chu probably jus' a dumbass, a culo, spend ya entire life sniffin' glue, sí. Hanari gonna knock a few more of dem brain cells out cha.
Chu think that Hanari is soft, is messing around, is out of his league. No, no, no, no hijo de puta, no! Hanari can and will come out on top. ¡Hago esto por mi país, por orgullo! It no matter if it is Idaho, Florida, Texas, or in ya home city of Cleveland, Hanari es comin' for blood! Hanari has been better than you since he was two, Estúpido! Dis is for mi madre, and tha pride that Hanari has ripped away from the Carnes family. It is abou' bringing back the glory that Hanari deserve. Tu estas tristemente equivocado, hermano, if chu think that Hanari es taking dis opportunity for granted. Dis means tha world to me, an' on mi madre I refuse to let someone like you screw it up. ¿Entender? Chu look like chu been fingering a light socket with a metal object, chico! Let Hanari teach chu about fashion, about charm, about lookin' da best ya can look, compañero!
Hanari walk like Hanari talk, and Hanari never stops talkin'!
And I will make dis big man tap out."
¡Viva la república dominicana! ¡Viva Hanari Carnes!
He couldn't imagine not.
As the landscape around him began to become more and more urban the closer they got to the metropolis, the pit in Hanari's stomach began to grow in size.
"Pedro, quita esta salida, necesito manejar algo, (pull off this exit, I need to handle something)" Hanari said, trying to choke back any emotion he may be feeling. He tried to tell himself he wasn't.
Pedro looked at him, knowing what Hanari was talking about. He tried to hide a smile as he nodded, tipped his fedora, and put on his blinker.
The place they were going was a place that Hanari hadn't been in some time. A place that had given him so much opportunity, taught him so much, but also brought him more pain than anywhere else he had ever been.
The grass began to get longer and longer, and the buildings more and more in shambles. This was the REAL Dominican, the one they don't show you in the travel agency brochures. It didn't last long, though, as Pedro was going damn near 130 kilmometers and hour down these roads, weaving in and out of the barely running cars that got in the way. Hanari turned on the radio, listening to sounds of the island as Pedro finally began to slow the car down as they came to a nice (by the standards of the area) development. Pulling into the neighborhood, and bouncing over a pot hole, Hanari began to read the signs in his head, saying them to himself in his head as they passed each one. Finally, after what felt like it took a day, the car rolled up on a big house, at least 4 bedrooms, with nice blue paint and white shutters, the nations flag hanging from the lamppost.
As the car sputtered to a stop, the door creaked open. Pedro's car was nicer than most around, but it still had a hell of a time handling the way he drove it. A designer dress shoe and hemmed pants stepped out, as Hanari put his foot down on the cracked pavement for the first time in years. He wasn't supposed to come here, and he promised he wouldn't.
This was different. This had to be.
As he walked slowly up the driveway, he shoes crunching underneath him, he looked at the building that he owed 20 years of his life. Curtains moved, windows opened and shut, doors cracked open slightly at all the houses nearby. In the Dominican, everyone knows everything within their community. This particular community loved Hanari. The children ran out into the street to see him, only to be called back sternly by their mothers. Everyone knew that this was a gamble being taken by a man who had nothing left to lose here.
Life is a gamble. Viva la dominicana.
Getting to the front door, he pulled a little on the scarf around his designer button down, and breathed deep. He knocked, and waited.
The grass was long, but more well kept than some of the lawns around this house. The paint was at least a decade newer. There was a car in the driveway, 2013 model year. Toyota. By far the newest around.
He knocked again.
This time the door opened, and in front of him stood the closest thing he had ever seen to an angel. The woman, 5'5 in frame, long black hair, and the warmest, most loving face in the entire Caribbean, stood in the doorway--so close he could smell her perfume. She smelled of the tropics, the ocean breeze, pina colada's.
Her expression, however, told a different story.
Her face contorted, she snarled a bit, and he swore he saw a tear well up in her eye. The toughest person he had ever known looked as though she were about to have a full on breakdown.
"Madre, he vuelto para decir adiós." (Mother, I have come back to say goodbye.)
The following dialogue is in Spanish, this is the translation:
"Hanari......"
Her voice was static, molded by years of cigarettes and yelling into rotary phone receivers, mostly at his father.
"Hanari, why are you here, I told you not to come here."
"Mother, I have come back to say goodbye"
"So, goodbye".
She went to shut the door, he stopped it with his foot.
"Mother, listen, this is important. This isn't a hustle, this isn't a joke. I leave for a major opportunity in a few hours and I wanted to say goodbye before I left...because....well.....I may not be back."
The woman opened the door more, shifting her weight. A few children, younger than Hanari but old enough to know what was happening, sat on couches in the room behind her, looking at the door with curious eyes. Some of them didn't even know who Hanari was, and that was what she wanted.
"You come here, on the eve of some big life event, to tell me you may not be back? Hanari, you do this all the time. Everything is a big event for you. Hell, you could sneeze into a rag and show my how much snot you shot! You're proud of it...but I don't need to be told everything."
Hanari was a bit taken aback.
"Why are you being so cold, Mother? This is a big opportunity for me, for real, and I think you will be proud of me."
"I was proud of you when you finally moved out."
Hanari expected this, but it still stung.
"After all I have done for you, Mother. This house, that car, the clothes, the food, the power--AC and lights--the plumbing. All me. Without it, you'd be on the streets somewhere. I am sorry, but it is true. Ever since Dad left, I have had to provide for this family, and I would think you'd at least be somewhat grateful!"
The woman scoffed.
"All of this! This is all dirty. This is all bought and paid for with dirty money! Filthy! It has blood on it! I can smell it!"
"You drive it, you wear it, you eat it....."
"And I hate myself every day. What have you done for this family besides bring shame?! You have robbed, stole, hell even KILLED."
"Show me the police report."
"Come on Hanari, we both know these things come at a price more than a paycheck in the Dominican. We both know that these things come at the price of another human's suffering, and now you come here and try to throw it in my face because I don't want to be associated with something so evil?!"
Hanari was getting offended, this was a bit much, but he expected her to be upset. He figured the best strategy was to keep going. She was listening, at least.
"I am going to America"
Her eyes shot open even wider than they already were.
"I am going to America to become a wrestler, mother."
The woman laughed. She outright laughed. It took her a good 5 minutes to stop laughing. Hanari stood there, waiting, unwavering, knowing he needed to continue.
"Yes, Mother, a professional wrestler. Like Ramón Álvarez, Rafael Sánchez and the current WWE star Levis Valenzuela Jr, or No Way Jose, as he goes by."
One of the teens in the back chimed in. "I love him!"
"Hush!" The mother snapped.
"I am going to make an honest buck, for once, Mother, and I wanted to tell you I leave tonight. I have a match in some place called Idaho, in the United States, and I am signed to a show called Anarchy, and a company called OCW. This is the real deal, mother. This is an opportunity for me to do something good in your eyes. Something to redeem myself in the eyes of my family. Something to bring pride to not just the Carnes family, but to the entire island."
The woman just stared at Hanari, but somewhere deep down he could tell she was proud.
For once.
"....and I came here to tell you that, depending how it goes, I may not be able to come back for a while, if ever. I will send money, American Dollars, but I may not be able to deliver it in person."
His mother, whose name was Giselle, looked him up and down.
"Who did you rob for those clothes?"
"Mother, really?"
"Look......just do it. Just go be a wrestler. Go to America. Be the best you can be, but don't you EVER, and I mean ever Hanari, forget where you came from."
She hugged him, and without saying another word shut the door.
Hanari walked back down to the car.
"How did it go?" Pedro asked, puffing on a cigar.
"Lets head to the airport."
The car pulled out, crunching more on the uneven roads, and peeling off the way only an over-valued beater can, leaving the only life Hanari ever knew behind him.
"Senior Anderson,
This match, mang, es personal. Ya dig? I know nothing abou' chu other than you are a cornball who has made a habit of being a speedbag so far in OCW. A speedback with a balding mouthpiece and a little puta piece of ass sister, cha?. Chu and her, nothing but warm up dolls, ya hear? Hanari has heard. Hanari comes into dis match as the new guy, sí, an' may be new to dis whole wrestling thang but when it come to surviving, chico, Hanari has done that his whole life! Chu can't even get mi name correct, and Hanari is supposed to take you seriously? Could have been honest mistake, sí, but Hanari doubts it. Chu probably jus' a dumbass, a culo, spend ya entire life sniffin' glue, sí. Hanari gonna knock a few more of dem brain cells out cha.
Chu think that Hanari is soft, is messing around, is out of his league. No, no, no, no hijo de puta, no! Hanari can and will come out on top. ¡Hago esto por mi país, por orgullo! It no matter if it is Idaho, Florida, Texas, or in ya home city of Cleveland, Hanari es comin' for blood! Hanari has been better than you since he was two, Estúpido! Dis is for mi madre, and tha pride that Hanari has ripped away from the Carnes family. It is abou' bringing back the glory that Hanari deserve. Tu estas tristemente equivocado, hermano, if chu think that Hanari es taking dis opportunity for granted. Dis means tha world to me, an' on mi madre I refuse to let someone like you screw it up. ¿Entender? Chu look like chu been fingering a light socket with a metal object, chico! Let Hanari teach chu about fashion, about charm, about lookin' da best ya can look, compañero!
Hanari walk like Hanari talk, and Hanari never stops talkin'!
And I will make dis big man tap out."
¡Viva la república dominicana! ¡Viva Hanari Carnes!