Tito the Bonecrusher Read online

  The SmashFest excitement was in the air before we even got into the arena. People were selling stuff in the parking lot, and as we got closer to the door, we saw people walking around holding up signs saying they wanted to buy tickets or had tickets to sell.

  We went inside and made our way to our seats. They were up kind of high, but that was good because we could really see everything. There was music thumping and intense images of wrestlers on screens.

  Suddenly the arena got dark.

  “The power’s out!” Sharon shrieked.

  “Shhh,” Louisa said.

  A loud voice boomed, “UWE fans!… Are you ready for SMASHFEST?!?”

  A bunch of lights started flashing everywhere, the music started thumping louder than before, and then the show started.

  It was awesome. It was just like watching it on TV, except you could feel the energy of thousands of other wrestling fans, right there cheering and booing with you. Even Sharon was getting into it. The only downside was that they had these firework things that boomed when different wrestlers entered, and every time it happened Sharon would scream in my ear. She was way too jumpy for professional wrestling.

  The way SmashFest works is that there are a couple of matches between wrestlers who are famous but not super famous, and then there is the SmashFest Showdown, which is between some of the biggest-name wrestlers in the UWE. The night we went to SmashFest with Dad, the Showdown featured a wrestler named Triple Threat, who was known for his three toughest moves and his catchy theme music, and this completely mean wrestler named Fists O’Blarney who wore shiny green pants and had a giant shamrock tattoo on his face.

  When Triple Threat entered the arena to his theme music, everyone went wild, cheering and clapping and just yelling. When Fists O’Blarney came in, people booed loudly.

  “It’s rude to boo,” Sharon said, shocked.

  “It’s okay here,” Dad told her. “It’s part of the show.”

  Despite all the cheers, things started looking bad for Triple Threat right away. Fists O’Blarney started slamming him around. He even jumped out of the ring, grabbed a chair from the announcers’ table, and smacked Triple Threat with it. Triple Threat went down hard.

  The announcers sounded worried. “This Showdown is not going well for Triple Threat,” they said, even though it was obvious. “He’s trying to get back up, but—”

  Just then Fists O’Blarney slammed his opponent down again. The ref blew his whistle and made a motion to signal that the match was over.

  I thought Fists would grab the mic and brag or something, which is what most wrestlers do when they win, but he wouldn’t leave Triple Threat alone! He went over to him and kicked him! The boos got louder and louder. Louisa even said a cuss word.

  The ref was shouting at Fists O’Blarney that he was in violation of UWE rules. Fists walked over to the ref and started arguing with him, then shook his head and walked back over toward Triple Threat.

  Just then there was a commotion at the announcers’ table. The announcers started hollering, “Someone is entering the ring! Someone is entering the ring!”

  We could hear a wave of cheers and shouts building from the lower level of the arena and spreading all around.

  Sharon started looking around all wild-eyed. “What is happening? Is it an emergency?”

  “TITO!!!” Louisa screamed, pointing.

  “It’s Tito the Bonecrusher!” one announcer’s voice boomed right after Louisa’s. “The rumors are true!”

  That’s when we saw him. Tito was on the floor of the arena, walking toward the announcers’ table near the ring.

  Once he was really close to the table, an announcer held out a microphone to Tito so that he could speak. Tito reached out a hand and took the microphone, but he didn’t even look at the announcers. And instead of stopping to make an announcement, he kept walking. He walked right up to the ring and climbed in!

  Triple Threat, who was still lying on the canvas, lifted his head. He looked shocked, from what we could tell on the jumbotron monitor showing close-ups of the ring. And Fists O’Blarney looked furious.

  “That ref told you the match was over,” Tito said to Fists. “And you’re still kicking a man when he’s down.”

  “So what?” Fists O’Blarney growled. “This isn’t an action movie. There are no stunt doubles. You’re not a real wrestler anymore, Tito, and you know it. You can’t stop me.”

  “Yes I can,” Tito said. He took a step toward Fists and pointed at the shamrock tattoo on his face. “You’re gonna wish you had more four-leaf clovers,” Tito warned him, “because your luck is about to run out.”

  “Oooooooh,” Brain and I said at the same time.

  “But you’re going to have to wait, O’Blarney,” Tito said to Fists. Then he turned, held the microphone to his mouth, and started to speak to the crowd. “I didn’t just come here tonight to take care of this punk O’Blarney.” His voice sounded serious. “I need to share something with all the Bonecrushers.”

  The crowd started cheering again.

  “Are the Bonecrushers his family?” Sharon asked.

  “It’s his fans. He calls us Bonecrushers,” I explained.

  “I left UWE a year ago, after my third SmashFest championship,” Tito said. “Since then, thanks to you Bonecrushers, I’ve had more blockbuster movies than any other wrestler in the history of UWE.” Tito continued describing all the amazing success he’d had with his movies and merchandise and everything. “I hear from you Bonecrushers all the time, whether you come to see me at appearances, reach out online, or send letters.”

  “A little while ago I got this letter from a young Bonecrusher,” he said, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolding it with his free hand. “And I’m going to read it now.”

  He launched right in:

  “Dear Tito,

  I love to watch your movies. You are so exciting and you always tell people to never quit trying. Your movies make a lot of money. You always help people in the movies, so I was wondering if you help people in real life, too. For example, we don’t have enough money to pay our rent, and we are going to have to move out of our apartment and live with my cousins. They already don’t have enough space. But lots of people have even more problems than that. Some kids don’t have enough food or coats or other things. I was thinking maybe you could use some of your money to help them. I think this is a good idea.

  From your number one fan.”

  Tito paused. “Then there’s a name. A child’s name. I’m not going to read his name on camera, but I do have something to say to my number one fan.”

  The arena was totally silent. The jumbotron screen showed close-ups of a bunch of people in the audience, and some of them were wiping tears from their faces.

  “What’s ‘rent’?” Sharon asked, clutching the lace on her party dress. Louisa and I shushed her.

  Then the camera zoomed in on Tito, who looked directly into it.

  “Number One Fan,” he said, as if that little kid was there in the arena with him, “I’m so proud to have a fan like you—someone who wants to help people, unlike O’Blarney here.”

  “Oh, boo-hoo,” Fists fake-cried, grabbing the letter from Tito. “It’s just some letter from a little kid. Little kids love Tito the Bonecrusher.”

  “That kid needs help,” Tito said. He snatched the letter back from Fists. “Maybe you should help someone for once in your life.”

  “Ha!” Fists laughed. We could even see him roll his eyes at Tito, because we were watching everything on the jumbotron. “I’m not some weak little do-gooder.”

  “Well, you’re about to be,” Tito said, “because I’m challenging you right here and now, Fists O’Blarney, to a lucha de apuesta.”

  Dad, Louisa, and I gasped.

  “Oh YEAH,” Brain said.

  “What’s that? What’s that!?!” Sharon wanted to know.

  She didn’t have to worry. Tito always super-explains all the lucha libre stuff because
most Americans don’t know anything about it.

  “A match with a wager,” Tito continued. “If I win—and I will win—you must promise to give one hundred thousand dollars to help this kid.”

  We couldn’t believe it! A hundred thousand dollars was a lot of money.

  “And what happens when you lose?” Fists O’Blarney sneered.

  “Oh, O’Blarney.” Tito chuckled and shook his head. “I am certain that I won’t lose to you. But if I do, I will give the same amount of money to you,” Tito said.

  “I don’t need your money,” Fists growled. “I want something bigger. And I know you won’t take this bet, because you know you won’t win. I will win, and when I do…” He paused dramatically.

  “What?!” Sharon shrieked, and I swear the whole arena glared at us.

  “When I do win,” Fists continued, “then I get to unmask you.”

  “Ohmygah,” Louisa said under her breath.

  “And the whole world,” Fists went on, “gets to see the face of a sellout and a coward.”

  I glanced at Louisa. She looked like she was ready to run down to the ring and fight Fists O’Blarney herself.

  “Deal,” Tito said. He reached out his hand so that he and Fists could shake on it.

  But Fists didn’t let go after the handshake. Instead, he yanked Tito toward him, and SLAMMED his knee into Tito’s stomach. Tito fell to the mat.

  “Boooooo!” the crowd called.

  “THAT’S SO DISRESPECTFUL!” Sharon screamed.

  The ref began to count. “One, t—”

  Tito was on his feet before the ref could say two. He ran toward the ropes, jumped up, launched himself off the top rope, and whipped his leg around to kick Fists in the head. Fists toppled sideways into the ropes, but then bounced right back to his feet.

  It was definitely one of the best wrestling matches I had ever seen, and not just because I was seeing it live—it was also extremely intense. All five of us were on the verge of a total freakout when Fists had Tito pinned to the mat and we thought it was the end. Sharon had to bury her face in her hands, Louisa was hollering “Get up!” and I think my dad was muttering a prayer under his breath. Absolutely no one in that arena wanted to see Tito unmasked, other than Fists O’Blarney.

  The ref started counting. “One … two…”

  Tito jerked his shoulder up off the mat just in time.

  “YEEEEESSSSSS!!” Louisa screamed.

  Within seconds, Tito had gotten out of the hold, flipped Fists around so that his shamrock tattoo was pressed against the mat, and pinned him. The ref started counting. Fists was trying to get up, but he couldn’t. The ref got to three. The arena went wild.

  As soon as Tito released his hold, Fists staggered to his feet, stepped out of the ring, and stomped off.

  Tito was on one knee and breathing hard after that match, but he stood up and signaled for someone to pass him a microphone. “O’Blarney will give the money to help my number one fan,” Tito said. “I’ll make sure he does. But it’s not enough. My number one fan asked me to help other people in need. I hear you, my young fan, and today, with some of the money I have earned thanks to the support of my Bonecrusher family, I am going to start a foundation for children. And I’m going to start it with ten … million … dollars.”

  I thought the crowd had gone wild before, but it was nothing compared to what happened when Tito said he was giving ten million dollars to help kids.

  The arena had to be on the verge of exploding from all the excitement happening inside it. Dad, Louisa, Brain, and I stood up and whooped. The crowd started chanting, “Ti-to! Ti-to! Ti-to!” Even Sharon joined in.

  * * *

  Everyone except Dad, who was driving, of course, fell fast asleep on the way home from SmashFest. Dad dropped off Brain and Sharon, and then he took Louisa and me back to his apartment, where we slept hard after all that cheering.

  The next afternoon when Dad dropped us off at Mom’s, the two of them had another surprise for us. It was a family meeting. That was when Dad told us he was going to be moving to Florida. At least for a couple of years, he said, to help a man named Walker Stewart get some new steakhouses started.

  I was sad.

  But Louisa was angry. “You knew? You knew all last night and you didn’t tell us?” Her face was red and scowling.

  “I didn’t want to ruin your fun at SmashFest,” Dad said.

  “You lied to us,” she fumed. After that, she was mad at Dad for weeks. And she wouldn’t watch wrestling with us again.

  * * *

  I thought about that SmashFest pretty much all the time. Not just about the wrestling, but about Tito’s number one fan. I wondered who the kid was, what he did with Fists O’Blarney’s money, and whether all his problems got solved. I also wondered whether Tito could solve problems that money couldn’t fix.

  5

  BRAIN’S BIRTHDAY

  Brain’s new gala-ticket-moneymaking idea involved signature move #3: Take what you need without anyone noticing. In this case, the anyone was Brain’s parents. Brain was turning eleven that Sunday, and she always gets a bunch of checks on her birthday. And after Headmaster Nurbin took the autograph money that was rightfully ours, Brain suggested that we sneak-use her birthday money to buy the gala tickets. Her parents usually deposited her birthday checks in her savings account, so it wasn’t like she ever saw the money anyway. Brain said that this year, we would cash the checks ourselves and just tell her parents that to be financially responsible, we took the checks to the bank. “Technically we are taking them to the bank. We’re just not depositing them,” Brain told me.

  It was hard to predict how much the total amount would be. There was a chance that we could get really close to the six hundred dollars we needed to buy the tickets. (When I first started going to Brain’s birthday parties, I could not BELIEVE how much money she got from her relatives.) It was also possible, however, that the total could be much lower. Some years it’s low because instead of all money, she’ll get these “heirloom” gifts from her grandparents. Stuff like very expensive silverware with curlicues etched on the handles, or super-breakable china plates. I guess Brain’s grandparents want her to throw a dinner party or something. We were crossing our fingers extra tight this year that she was going to rake in the cash instead of fancy spoons.

  Brain and I have celebrated her birthday together since we were six, when my mom used to clean her house. Even though Mom ran the housecleaning business and had a couple of assistants, she did a lot of the cleaning herself, especially for her longtime clients like the Gregorys. She sold the business to her assistants when she married Carl because she didn’t want to work in the same neighborhood where she was living, and now she teaches classes on how to run your own business.

  Anyway, when I started celebrating Brain’s birthdays with her, it was way before my mom married Carl and we moved to his ritzy neighborhood. Back then I saw Brain only on Saturdays when my mom was taking care of her house, and then I would stay and play at the Gregorys’ while my mom and her team cleaned a few other houses nearby. But then, on Brain’s sixth birthday, she insisted that her mom invite me to her party.

  Brain’s mom used to invite half of Haselton to Brain’s birthday parties, which had themes like Princess Tea Party or Royal Teddy Bears—basically anything that gave Brain’s mom an excuse to wear a tiara. Brain got so tired of greeting her mom’s friends and thanking everyone for coming that on her ninth birthday, she rebelled and insisted on wearing a lucha libre mask. She told everyone she was La Diabólica, the champion luchadora, and she may have even threatened to use La Diabólica’s finishing move, the powerbomb, on a couple of party guests. So that was the end of the princess parties. The next year her mom let her invite just Sharon and me for a sleepover, and this year, it was only me.

  In honor of Brain turning eleven, I had gotten her a special-edition DVD set of the most important Tito movies ever made: Steel Cage and Steel Cage 2. I had seen Steel Cage 2 three more times
since Dad, Louisa, and I watched it in the movie theater, and somehow it got more amazing every time. The three-disc set I’d gotten for Brain included “not only both Steel Cage and Steel Cage 2: Back in the Cage, but also never-before-seen footage and a commentary track by Tito the Bonecrusher himself.” Those were the exact words from the commercial for the DVD set, and Brain and I had seen the commercial so many times we had pretty much memorized it.

  After dinner, we sat in the living room so that Brain could open her birthday presents. Before she could get to my gift, we had to suffer through some of the gifts from her parents. She got another manicure set, some stationery with unicorns on it, and three dresses.

  I have this great-aunt in Chicago I haven’t seen since I was four, and when she sends me gifts, there’s usually a note that says something like “The lady at the store said these are very popular with boys your age!” That’s how it was with Brain’s parents. Based on the gifts they bought her, you’d think she was someone they hadn’t seen in years.

  “The lady at the store said these are very popular with girls your age,” Brain’s mom said as Brain opened a package that contained a set of jewelry shaped like cupcakes.

  “Thank you.” Brain’s voice was flat but polite. She extracted the cupcake bracelet from the plastic wrap and put it on her wrist.

  “Oh, how adorable!” Brain’s mom cooed. “Oh, Warren, just look at Brianna. WARREN!”

  “Mmmm, lovely, Jessica,” Brain’s dad said, not looking up from his phone.

  Once we got through the random presents from Brain’s parents, it was time for the checks.

  “A hundred dollars from Grandmother and Poppy…” Brain barely glanced at the card before reporting the amount on the check. “Yes! Two hundred dollars from Nana and Roger … five dollars from Aunt Hazel.” Brain kept going until every envelope was opened. “Four hundred thirty dollars total,” she announced as soon as she’d opened the final envelope. Like I said, Brain is practically a genius.