Page 43 of Thoroughly Innocent Intent

“Smart lady.” Riley winks at Sam. “Tell you what, I gotta get over there and make sure everything’s set. Take these tickets and meet me there when you’re done.” He pulls two tickets from his wallet and passes them to me, and with a quick handshake, he rushes off to his next stop.

“Wow,” Sam exhales, “he’s quite the tornado.”

“Ha,” I bark. “Never heard it put that way before, but I can’t argue. He does sorta blow right through you. “

“Why does he not play anymore? He seems…daunting enough.”

“Daunting, he’d probably like that description.” I grin. “Anyhow, he busted his knee a few years back. I hated that he went out like that, but it worked out. He’s a good mayor. He likes mingling with people and really listens to them; and they like him. So, what do you say? Want to go?”

“I…Live action theatre?” She wrinkles her nose.

“Tell you what, you’ve never seen a match, and I’ve never seen a live one, and I figure you’ve gotta see wrestling once in your life, so let’s stop by and watch a match or two.”

“I thought we had to make it an early night, with the game coming up?”

“We will.” I take her hand in mine and pull her up from the table, gathering our trash in the other hand. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t take advantage of something unexpected before we call it a night.” I give her a quick peck on the lips, deposit our trash in the can, and hold her hand in mine as we walk the few blocks to the brewery hosting the event.

The venue is about halfway full when we arrive, and since neither of us are drinking, we bypass the bar and head straight for our seats, which as it turns out are ringside.

As we sink into the folding chairs on the perimeter of the ring, I notice two things. First, the ring is small, twelve by twelve if I had to guess, which doesn’t seem like enough space to wrestle in. And second, even seated, my head is taller than the floor of the ring.

“Huh,” Sam mutters aloud.

“What’s that?” I rest my arm on the back of her chair and lean closer to hear what she’s saying.

“I was picturing something different.” She gestures toward the ring.

“Like what?”

“Like, bigger I guess.” She tilts her head and squints her eyes, studying the ring. “I thought wrestlers would be more your size, and you’d hardly fit in there. But maybe wrestlers aren’t as big as football players.”

“Some are. Especially the WWE guys.”

“Didn’t your friend say that’s what this is? A WWE thing?” Her brow furrows in confusion.

“He did.” I mumble, somewhat distracted by the sight of a little kid in a wrestling uniform talking to some spectators on the other side of the ring. My own confusion mounting, I pull the tickets out of my pocket, and laugh loudly right in Sam’s ear when I realize what’s written on them.

“What?” Sam turns to me.

“Midget Wrestling.” I read the ticket.

“You can’t say that.” She looks around to see if anyone heard that before turning to me with a scowl on her pretty face.

“I didn’t, the ticket did.” I hand it to her.

She reads it herself, then looks at me with a panicked expression. “You mean…?”

“Looks that way,” I chuckle, realizing that was no little kid I saw. Riley has the same appreciation for new experiences that I do, so I’m not at all surprised he’s behind such a unique event. “I wonder if it’ll still be WWE style. That looks like a chair under the ring.” I lean down to confirm that there is, indeed, a tiny folding chair tucked beneath it. “This is gonna be fun! I always loved when the wrestlers hit each other with chairs.” I grin, thinking back to the matches I saw on TV as a kid.

“What? They hit each other with chairs?” Sam hisses, her eyes growing wide.

“It’s all part of the act,” I assure her. “No one gets hurt.”

“But…we can’t…I mean. Chairs?” she whispers angrily. “That’s so cruel.”

“What’s cruel about it?”

“These poor people are being exploited because of their size, like a circus act.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest and leans back in her chair, glaring at the stage. “And this brewery, your friend, they’re using them to make money.”

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