Post by Pax Stormcrow on Jun 28, 2021 0:19:05 GMT
Pax is sitting on a porch, looking out over the setting sun. The sound of crickets are beginning to fill the air. The chair he is sitting in is worn down, parts of the bottom following out, but the wood frame is good stock, sturdy. He’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a Minnesota Twins t-shirt. He lifts a glass of water to his lips, taking a drink from it as he looks out to the other houses on the dirt road, so much like his. A mixture of metal and wood siding. Some have roofs of wood, or tin. He lets out a breath, before looking to the camera that is filming him.
“‘Why Pax’. Been getting that a lot lately. People want to know what changed. Wanting to know what happened to the boy scout. What happened to Captain Indigenous?”
He lifts his cup of water, taking a long drink from it.
“I get it. I probably seem like a different person then who I was when you last saw me. At least for those of you who stopped paying attention when I stopped stepping through the ropes. I’ve heard all sorts of theories. The death of my mom is the big one. Pointing to the bumpy road the start of my career took as another. Did they have something to do with the way I am now? Probably. We can’t pretend that our past doesn’t shape our present after all. But that’s not really the whole story.”
He lifts his glass, extending a finger to point along the road.
“Here’s a story. See all these houses? They are my neighbors. They my cousins. Some of them literally. Others just cause that’s how you talk about the people on your rez. See we are all family here. But this isn’t no platitude. To help me on my way, these people gave their money. They made food for me. They gave me rides to practice. They showed up to my meets. This… this is what community really means. Hell, I could go up to any door and ask for a beer and every single one would either give me one or offer to drive me to the store to get one.”
He looks down into his glass for a moment.
“But take a look. You see how we are living. When I was training for Team USA? When I was starting my pro wrestling career? The rooms I stayed in were 100 times nicer than these homes. I never once worried about what I’d eat or where I slept. All for what? For being able to throw other people around well? My mother and I busted our ass to make sure I got what I had to do. I had to be 10 times better than anyone else to be noticed. Then I got to live in style and travel the world while my family lived in metal boxes? Trying to get by on wood stoves and space heaters in the winter and fans in the summer?”
He shakes his head slowly.
“Standing Rock, Line 3, The boarding schools, the pipe lines. All that came out. Let’s be real all, this isn’t news to us? We have been fighting this since 1492. This isn’t ancient history. My grandpa was in a boarding school. I got a second cousin locked up for Line 3 protests. A kid I used to play pick up games with is blind in his left eye from a rubber bullet at Standing rock. And then we had the summer of Floyd?”
Pax empties his glass of water and throws it.
“It’s been said that evil only persists when good men do nothing. Some people probably don’t like the new me. They think I should go with the flow. Put a smile on my face. Be the light you want to see in the world. But they forget that the brightest light is a bonfire. Sometimes a good person gotta get out there and start throwing fists. That even Captain American stood in the line and said ‘No, you move.’ That a shield can be used to batter and crush that which stands in front of it. Nay. I’m still the same Pax Stormcrow I always was.”
He stands to his feet, looking down into the camera.
“But now, I’m pushing back.”
“‘Why Pax’. Been getting that a lot lately. People want to know what changed. Wanting to know what happened to the boy scout. What happened to Captain Indigenous?”
He lifts his cup of water, taking a long drink from it.
“I get it. I probably seem like a different person then who I was when you last saw me. At least for those of you who stopped paying attention when I stopped stepping through the ropes. I’ve heard all sorts of theories. The death of my mom is the big one. Pointing to the bumpy road the start of my career took as another. Did they have something to do with the way I am now? Probably. We can’t pretend that our past doesn’t shape our present after all. But that’s not really the whole story.”
He lifts his glass, extending a finger to point along the road.
“Here’s a story. See all these houses? They are my neighbors. They my cousins. Some of them literally. Others just cause that’s how you talk about the people on your rez. See we are all family here. But this isn’t no platitude. To help me on my way, these people gave their money. They made food for me. They gave me rides to practice. They showed up to my meets. This… this is what community really means. Hell, I could go up to any door and ask for a beer and every single one would either give me one or offer to drive me to the store to get one.”
He looks down into his glass for a moment.
“But take a look. You see how we are living. When I was training for Team USA? When I was starting my pro wrestling career? The rooms I stayed in were 100 times nicer than these homes. I never once worried about what I’d eat or where I slept. All for what? For being able to throw other people around well? My mother and I busted our ass to make sure I got what I had to do. I had to be 10 times better than anyone else to be noticed. Then I got to live in style and travel the world while my family lived in metal boxes? Trying to get by on wood stoves and space heaters in the winter and fans in the summer?”
He shakes his head slowly.
“Standing Rock, Line 3, The boarding schools, the pipe lines. All that came out. Let’s be real all, this isn’t news to us? We have been fighting this since 1492. This isn’t ancient history. My grandpa was in a boarding school. I got a second cousin locked up for Line 3 protests. A kid I used to play pick up games with is blind in his left eye from a rubber bullet at Standing rock. And then we had the summer of Floyd?”
Pax empties his glass of water and throws it.
“It’s been said that evil only persists when good men do nothing. Some people probably don’t like the new me. They think I should go with the flow. Put a smile on my face. Be the light you want to see in the world. But they forget that the brightest light is a bonfire. Sometimes a good person gotta get out there and start throwing fists. That even Captain American stood in the line and said ‘No, you move.’ That a shield can be used to batter and crush that which stands in front of it. Nay. I’m still the same Pax Stormcrow I always was.”
He stands to his feet, looking down into the camera.
“But now, I’m pushing back.”
Well howdy there pardner.