Soul Mates (28 page)

“What will you and Lilith do? Do you need some help?” Tyler’s father asked. Although he knew that his father meant well, he could not help but to feel the swell of emasculating shame threatening to castrate him. 

“Thanks dad, but we have a savings and Lilith’s law career is very successful. But it’s funny that you ask what I’m gonna do, actually.”

Instead of inquiring further, Ty’s parents kept quiet, waiting for him to explain his next endeavor, with bated breath. Tyler was in no hurry to explain to his parents what his next venture would be with his wife, and that was just about the professional fighting league aspect of it. He was nowhere near ready to tell them that his intention was to resurrect the historical and forever controversial concept of the Colosseum, which is what it was. Call it
The Super Chasm
, or whatever you’d like, but it was the Colosseum…minus the lions, animals, and weapons that gladiators would compete with.  

“Lilith and I are starting a professional fighting league in Las Vegas. We’re going to check out a venue together this afternoon,” Tyler explained to his parents.

Now, normally if Tyler told his parents about a project he was getting involved with, their outcries of support would be in sickening abundance, but in this case, they were talking about their son’s livelihood and his parents could not see this prospect as an avenue that would lead to a stable living. The lines just did not connect in their (out-of-touch?) minds. Fighting to the death would prove to be the
real
moneymaker, putting the mixed martial arts industry to shame in terms of profits, but again, Ray and Cindy did not know about the potentially mortal implications of the contest that the combatants would engage in. Tyler couldn’t
possibly
drop that bomb on them.

“Isn’t there a lot of competition in that market these day, Ty?” his prudent father asked. And that was just starting off on the wrong foot right out of the gate, wasn’t it? Tyler was used to hearing outcries of support from his parents all of his life. Anything
but
that had to mean that they were not on the same page and Tyler just did not need that.

“There is, but we know how to take it to the next level. Anyway, I just wanted to reach out to you guys and let you know how I was doing, and I apologize I didn’t get in touch sooner. I love you both.”

His parents reimbursed Tyler with their love and even made a token attempt at civility by telling their son to give Lilith their best as well. When Tyler put the phone back on the receiver and turned around to exit the bedroom, he saw Lilith in the doorway.

“They didn’t get it, huh?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Probably not. Who am I kidding? Not remotely. There’s something with parents where they think that whatever their children concoct on their own and isn’t already an established profession, has no chance of success or that it’s just a hobby.”

“I know what you mean. I used to listen to a radio show years ago, and one of the jocks used to talk about how his mother would always urge him to learn a trade that he could fall back on just in case his radio career went kaput. And this was a multi-millionaire,” Lilith shared.

“I guess it’s just how parents operate.”

“Come on, we have a lot of work to do. It’s time to become infamous.”

Tyler smiled at the prospect, as there was some confusion about the word “infamous” which his wife used. One of Tyler’s favorite movies growing up was a DVD his father passed down to him titled The Three Amigos.

Coincidentally, that movie is also in our library as well. Then again, we have every movie ever
made
on file.

Anyway, the DVD, which was noticeably worn from all of the attention it received back when Ray was young, was about a troubled Mexican village that reaches out to three film actors, whose movies always show their heroic triumphs against tyrannical bullies and outlaws who threaten villages such as the Mexican village just mentioned. After viewing one of the Three Amigo’s movies at their local churc
h–
which the villagers believe are true events captured on fil
m–
the villagers have a telegram sent to the actors to come help save them from the dreaded El Guapo. The miscommunication comes when the villagers assigned to send the telegram to the Amigos run out of money, as the telegram is priced by the word-count and contained too many words. In order to cut down on the cost, the man who pens the telegram takes out adjectives to describe El Guapo such as murderous, evil, ruthless, etc., and inserts the word “infamous,” informing his customers that this word means all of those other adjectives of praise that they had previously listed in the telegram. The problem is that our heroes in the film are not very bright and when they read the telegram they think that “infamous” means
more
than famous, or a level of fame that they would be pleased to work with. They believe that they are asked to Mexico by the villagers of Santo Poco to shoot a film with the biggest movie star to come out of Mexico.

The whole interminable point being: if Tyler did as well in his English classes in school as he did in Science, and not make the same mistake the Three Amigos made with their vocabulary blunder, perhaps Tyler would have been more dubious about The Super Chasm. Although, Lilith had a way of removing that doubt; she had been doing it since they were children. She was in complete control.

*   *   *

             
 
This is where most of the preparation and work was completed. After Tyler got off the phone with his parents, he and Lilith set out for the venue they meant to look at that would ultimately become The Super Chasm. It was a large, slightly elliptical building of relatively new construction (ten years old or so) which was four stories high (at the time) and set most appropriately and fortuitously right next to Caesar’s Palace in the middle of the Las Vegas strip. The location was perfect not only because it was smack dab right in the center of everything, but being next to Caesar’s Palace gave the venue the perfectly suitable themed luridness which has always been synonymous with Sin City. It also gave the fighting venue understated subliminal validity.

When they arrived at 3666 South Las Vegas Boulevard, at what used to be a lavish parking garage for the surrounding casinos way back when (the
antediluvian
time period of ten years prior), they stood outside and Tyler was instantly swept into his own mind's eye. He imagined a line of spectators that could span the length of a football field, impatiently waiting to get in to watch the main event. He could see the light and dark blue, and purple lighting that would illuminate the outside with ominous excitement and accentuate the surrounding area’s white colors like a hippie’s black light. He could see the signage of the venue, sprawled across the front of the structure spelling out “The Super Chasm” in an archaic, yet appropriate, Roman font. He could hear the restless yell of the spectators who had already made their way inside and to their padded stone and marble benches, just like they had in 80 AD
,
save for the cushions. The seating would resemble the caste system of seating the Colosseum boasted in Ancient Rome with the VIPs on the bottom rows, followed by general admission, and the “nose-bleed” section, typically reserved for women eras ago, would be standing room only.  And what about concessions? People would no doubt work up a thirst and appetite while watching fellow citizens battle each other for obscene amounts of money. There would be actual concession stands, yes, but the preferred method of ordering a refreshment or two would be from the profusion of cocktail waitresses who would constantly be circulating the arena in the skimpiest garb permitted. Yes, my friends, The Super Chasm would be the epitome of decadence and debauchery, the two silent “D’s” in Las Vegas.  

It was all coming together in Tyler’s mind free of any effort. It was just there, like sitting down to a puzzle that was 90% put together. This was all uncharacteristic of the Tyler a small portion of the world knew while he was growing up, unlike the present day Tyler. That said, everyone has their price.

*   *   *

“Ty!” Lilith’s voice ripped him from the blissful pride and comfort of his imagination. “Come on, let’s go see what the damage is…renovations and so forth.”

“Ha, what? This place isn’t turn-key?” Tyler joked as they walked in together.

As much exhilaration as Tyler felt about what he had imagined a minute ago, it all left him the second they stepped into the disremembered parking complex. First, the interior looked like it would be impossible to transform into what he had in mind. There were car ramps, which led from one story of the parking garage to the other, spanning the entire length of the parking compound; two sets of ramps, one in the north end of the complex and one at the south.

“You look dejected,” Lilith observed.

“Nah, not dejected, just…I don’t know…not what I expected. I was able to see the big picture so clearly when we were standing outside and in here, I don’t see how it could possibly be transformed into what I saw in my mind. I wouldn’t even know where to start, to be honest.”

“Well, not everyone is built for construction. Some people can’t see the big picture. But trust me, I’ve already been in touch with a couple of companies who are going to gut this place, bust up all of these ramps and completely clear out the middle section here,” Lilith roughly measured by spanning her arms as far as they would go, transforming her into the world’s largest bird for a second.

“I think the ramps are what make all of this seem so impossible. They take up the entire area of the arena floor and some of the VIP seating area. Not to mention the cost! How are we going to purchase the property?”

“Investors, my dear; come on. I do well at the law firm, but not
that
well.”

“And how about paying for this job? Demolition and construction is a shit-ton of work,” Tyler thought out loud.

“Don’t you trust me, babe? I have a plan. ”

Did she ever.

Chapter 11

For the next few months, after the state notification, survey requirements, and other hoops to jump through were satisfied, the work finally began. Tyler’s days consisted of incipient demolition work at the parking complex. When asked what the hell he thought he was doing by his wife, as the demolition crew was being paid for the job, and well, Tyler argued it was a great way to stay in shape since he was no longer employed by the police force.

He stayed in touch with his parents more regularly, sending them a picture of the progress every so often with an email from his smartphone while taking a break at the work site. While Tyler occupied himself with the grunt work, Lilith occupied herself with the legalities of their ultimate goal.

Lilith was in touch with “associates” and peers of the law firm at which she was employed, as well as some politicians, both locally as well as those whose influence spanned statewide. Some of these associates were lawyers of some notoriety, many of which were instrumental in acquittals of a few very notorious trials, such as the O.J. Simpson trial, to name one. These peers in the legal world, however, held a secret. A similar secret to Lilith’s as a matter of fact…similar, but different.

Come now…surely you realize that Lilith is not like other women, don’t you? If not, I have done a poor job of telling this story to you.

These politicians and lawyers whom Lilith had spun in her web were a few in a network of many. They are found world-wide and refer to themselves as the
Chutma
. For those who are familiar with them, there is a common misconception that they dwell exclusively within the law and political professions. While these arenas of employment are typically where the
Chutma
can
be found, as these professions plug them into all aspects of people’s lives, in reality they are not limited to these professions…not at all. They have jobs that are as imposing as world leaders to jobs as paltry as a customer-greeter at your local Walmart.

The foremost crucial task was to get politicians and lawyers of the
Chutma
to influence their other co-workers, who were not part of the archaic tribe (for lack of a better term), to see things their way. Getting the proper permits and authorization to open a fighting arena was not in itself extremely difficult in a city such as Las Vegas. There were pockets to line and people to grease, and the
Chutma
, as well as their Earthly counterparts nestled in powerful professions in law and politics, knew who owned those pockets that required that pecuniary lining.

But opening a fighting arena where the contest may result in death? That was impossible, especially in the contemporary atmosphere of political correctness and hypersensitivity; but not for the
Chutma
. They had a knack for explaining things in just the right way to people who were at just the correct level of reception. If their charm did not overwhelm the target into complete submission, then their enigmatic eyes would accomplish that feat. Such was the case regarding permits to construct The Super Chasm and the rules of the “sport” thereof.