The Volunteer State [Part One]

“Stop complaining, you had every opportunity to say no.”

Abby Park and her brother, Ken, were standing by the luggage claim watching the eerily similar looking bags lazily slide down the line. Ken’s arms were crossed and a sour expression plagued his face while Abby was smiling as if she were a tourist; the annoyance she had with Ken’s constant complaints hidden behind the smile.

“You tricked me,” Ken was angry. He had mellowed considerably since they left California. Being told by the flight attendants to quiet down forced him to take a volume adjustment, if not an adjustment in attitude.

“I didn't,” Abby bent down and grabbed her black sport bag and let it hang off her shoulders, “I asked if you wanted to take a trip with me. You said yes.”

“You didn't tell me we were coming here,” For the third time Ken watched his bag circle around and back behind the curtain.

“Yes I did.”

“You told me as we were boarding.”

“But I did tell you.” Abby grabbed Ken’s bag for him and dropped it at his feet, had he not taken a step back the bag would have landed on his toes. “If you really don’t want to be here, go find a return flight and pay your own airfare.” Abby proceeded to walk past Ken and headed towards the nearby car rental counter. “Or you could tough it out, stay here for the three days and stop being such a baby.”

Ken turned his head towards Abby’s back, looking like a child on the verge of throwing a tantrum. As Abby all but disappeared into the line of people waiting for service, Ken took another look at his surroundings. He was back in Tennessee, back home. Worse, he was stuck here. Stuck in a place that shut down when it rained. And here he was, all because of her. He’d call it karma, but he hadn't done anything bad. Not yet.

“Are you coming?” Abby yelled towards him, waving her hand frantically, a silver set of keys catching the light with each pass of the hand, “They gave us an SUV!”

Begrudgingly, Ken picked up his bag and stomped off after his sister. What was that expression? Make the best of a bad situation? Ken found himself in the worst situation possible, and only two things could help him out of it: a good drink and a good lay. Neither could be found in rural Tennessee.

~~~~~

HIXSON, TENNESSEE
JANUARY 28, 2013

A trio of high school girls giggled on a bench, an issue of Cosmo propped open in front of them. The girls were indistinguishable from any high school girl found on any street in the cities, with the exception of their preparatory school uniforms. One of the girls, the long haired brunette who sat in the center of the three, had her skirt hovering just above the acceptable length as dictated by the handbook, next to her were a girl with red hair pulled back into a ponytail; puberty had hit her early and ever since she never buttoned every button on her blouses, and a bespectacled girl who wore knee-high socks because she heard that her history teacher had a thing for girls with knee-high socks.

Observing the girls with a faint hint of envy was a girl sitting in the bench across from them. She was also wearing the same preparatory uniform, though unlike the trio her uniform adhered to the dress code exactly. A textbook lay open on her lap, though she hadn't been reading it. In her hands was a sketchbook and her hands were moving as if possessed. A purple backpack rested at her feet, both of which were nervously bouncing up and down. Every so often the girl would steal glances towards the others and, fearing detection, would just as quickly bring her eyes back to the sketchbook in her hands.

“Vicki,” the redhead whispered to the brunette, “She keeps staring at us.”

“Ignore her, Felicia,” Vicki replied, flipping the page in the magazine, “Everyone does.”

“It’s kinda cute how she thinks we don’t notice,” the girl with the glasses added.

“Cute like 'pathetic-creepy-cute,' sure,” Felicia sat back against the bench, arms crossed, “It was cute the first time. Now I almost feel sorry for her.”

“I can hear you,” the lone girl said, softly, her head pointed downwards and her voice speaking directly to her sketchpad.

A lengthy silence followed. The three girls looked back and forth at one another before settling on the other girl. In unison, the three began to laugh, the newest issue of Cosmo slowly sliding to the ground during their fit. Too embarrassed to get up and leave, the solitary girl merely kept her head down and listened to their laughter.

It wasn't the first time others had laughed. She doubted it would be the last.

~~~~~~

MARY'S GROCERY
CHATTANOOGA, TENNESSEE
JANUARY 29, 2013

“This the harvest?” a young man wearing a plain white apron asked as he held up a bushel full of vegetables.

“Exactly as ordered, oh and I threw in some extra cabbage. Miss Mary mentioned it tends to sell out fast,” a kindly older man replied. The man had a full head of hair, though the once beautiful black shine was all but replaced by the graying of age and stress. A pair of work gloves hung out of his rear pocket, peeking just below the bottom of his jacket.

“That’s because your cabbage is the best damn cabbage in the county, Mr. Park. Even as a kid my mom wouldn't stop talking about it.”

Lee Park laughed a weak laugh, waving his hand in front of his face to end any further compliments that were going to be thrown his way. “Pull the other one, Hank.”

Hank placed an envelope on the counter and slid it towards Lee. “Here’s the payment and next month’s order. Thanks as always, Mr. Park.”

Lee shook his head as he pocketed the envelope. “My pleasure, Hank, as always. Be sure and tell Miss Mary I said hello, would you?”

Hank nodded and watched as Lee left the grocery. Outside, Lee made his way towards his pickup truck. Mary’s was the final stop of the day, and the empty bushels in the bed of the truck were evidence of that. Lee tapped various parts of his body until he felt the familiar touch of his keys; he slid them into the ignition and the truck puttered to life. The check engine light lit up; Lee slammed his fist on the dash and the light went away. “Damn thing,” Lee muttered as he pulled out of the parking spot, his mind now on the meal waiting for him back home.

~~~~~~~

HAMILTON COUNTY
HIXSON, TENNESSEE

“So you admit to tricking me?”

Ken refused to drop the line of inquiry and for the past ten miles it had been the only thing the two of them talked about.

“I didn't trick you, Ken. You could have stayed in California. They don’t make you get on the plane.” Behind the wheel, Abby kept her eyes on nothing but the road; it had been a few years since she last had to drive and her past experiences with driving in Tennessee were less than satisfactory. “Some part of you wanted to come here, Ken.”

“Yeah, the part of me that wished we brought a gun.”

“You know, you’re making an incredibly strong case for why I should have left you back in California.” A horn honked and Abby suddenly had a change of heart in regards to her lane change.

“It’s not too late. You can turn around and we can catch the next flight back,” Ken turned to look at Abby, hope in his eyes.

“Look, that place that sold our favorite okra is still there. Remind me to stop by while we're here.” Next to her, Ken let out a heavy sigh but Abby paid it no mind.

“It’s a left up here,” Ken said, the defeat clear in his voice.

“We’re not going home, Ken. Not right away.”

"Going to the hotel first? Fine by me," Ken desperately searching for anything resembling a silver lining.

"Why would I get us a hotel, Ken?"

“Well, are we going to a bar then? You know, get us nice and loose for the reunion?"

“We are not.”

“Well if you see one, drop me off and pick me up when we leave.”

“Ken, do me a favor and turn on the radio.”

The rest of the car ride was drowned out by country music and insurance ads.

~~~~~~~



On the bright side, the three girls had stopped laughing. But their laughter now gave way to taunting. The trio surrounded the other girl; Vicki standing behind the bench, Felicia sitting to the left and the one with glasses on the right. In the middle was the quiet girl, her textbook currently gathering dirt next to the sketchbook.

“You know, you keep staring at us like that and we’re gonna get all kinds of ideas,” Vicki said, her hands dangerously close to the girl’s hair.

“Yeah, it might lead to all sorts of rumors,” Felicia piped in; Vicki shot her a stern look.

“It’s rude to draw people without their consent,” Vicki continued, her fingers tapping the top of the bench, the sound increased due to how close her fingers were to the girl’s ears.

“I’m sorry,” the girl said, not knowing who to look at, “I just…I wanted to sketch from life and you girls were perfect for it.”

“From life?” glasses girl did her best to sound shocked, “ Isn't that what those naked models are for?”

“Is that right, Clara?” Vicki’s face took on a devilish grin, though it was hidden behind the girl’s short black hair. “Say, do you think she was picturing us like one of those models?”

“I bet she was,” Felicia uttered in agreement while Clara giggled like a hyena. “You know how weird artists are.”

“I wasn't-“ the girl’s apology was drowned out by piercing laughter. The girl squirmed in her seat, her hands crumpling the folds of her skirt.

“Did someone tell a joke? I love jokes!”

The three girls stopped laughing, their heads moving in unison towards the sound of the new voice. The girl did the same, albeit much more slowly; though when she saw who it belonged to, her eyes widened. It was like looking into a mirror. Like her, the owner of the voice had short black hair and dark eyes with clearly Asian features. The girl was looking into the face of herself in five years; she was looking into her own face, if her own face were not so chubby. She was looking into the face of Abby Park.

“Unni!” the girl shouted, jumping from the bench. She ran towards Abby, nearly on the verge of tears.

“Sorry I’m late, Kim, my navigator wouldn't shut up.” Abby gave Kim Park a hug though she kept her eyes on the three girls. “Who’re your friends?”

The three girls remained silent as they stared towards the Park sisters. Though Kim was taller, it could not have been more apparent that the two were related. Abby waved at the girls they looked at each other before awkwardly waving back.

“They seem nice,” Ken called from the car, his voice making the intended meaning perfectly clear, “Hey ladies, you want to grab a beer? My treat.”

“You brought Ken with you, unni?” Kim shuddered and made a gagging noise. Abby looked towards Kim and shrugged her shoulders. Kim quickly looked back towards Ken, “They’re in high school, babo.”

“Good, they’re more receptive.” Ken waved towards the girls, “Offer still stands, ladies. You, me, a few six packs?”

Vicki, Felicia, and Clara couldn't leave fast enough.

~~~~~~~

THE FARMHOUSE
HIXSON, TENNESSEE
JANUARY 29, 2013

A warm meal was the only thing Lee looked forward to daily. No matter what else happened during the day, so long as a warm meal was waiting for him when he walked through the door all of his troubles would vanish. In his mind, a man was entitled to nothing but a meal served from his wife as a coda to the day. A warm meal, a cool glass of sun tea, and a slice of pie with a slice of warm cheddar cheese resting on top, that was the high point of the day.

Today, a warm meal did not greet Lee Park.

“Better pour me two glasses, dear, I’m dryer’n the devil’s tongue tonight.”

Lee slipped off his shoes and grabbed a hanger for his jacket. He sniffed the air, detecting the faint scent of beef stew. Not nearly chilly enough for stew in his opinion, but he wasn't one to tell his wife what to cook, just as he wouldn't expect her to tell him how best to grow cabbage.

“Is that stew I smell? Did you use the bad carrots? Don’t wanna waste ‘em if we can use ‘em.” Lee hung his jacket in the foyer closet and followed the familiar path to the kitchen where a piping bowl would await him.

“Hey, dad, how’s the world of vegetable farming?”

Lee grabbed the door frame though he felt as if he was going to have a heart attack and if that was the case it wouldn't matter what he held on to. At the dinner table were four chairs, one for each member of the Park household. He sat, as a patriarch should, at the head of the table. This was how it went at meals. This is how it always went, like his father before him, the head of the house sat at the head of the table. He gradually let go of the door frame, though his mouth was agape. Sitting in his chair with a half-eaten bowl of beef stew in front of them, was a fifth person. Sitting at the family table was his oldest daughter and sitting in her lap, brown beef broth dripping down the corners of his mouth, was his youngest son.

“Papa! Abby-noona came back!”

Lee slumped into the closest chair to keep himself from collapsing onto the floor.

“Dear,” he said weakly, “Better make it three glasses.”

~~~~~

Undisclosed outdoor location
EXODUS Pro Promo

The camera opens on a shot of a clear blue sky and lingers as a flock of birds flies overhead. Slowly it pans down until Abby Park’s face and upper torso are in the center of the frame. Her hair is cut even shorter than usual and were it not for the sound of her voice, she could pass for a boy. She is looking skyward, dressed in a black wife beater two sizes too big. On her hands are the familiar black finger-less gloves; both currently holding the familiar microphone.

“I heard the best, most wonderful sound in the world. Better than the sound of wedding bells or a symphony. Better than hearing The Beatles for the first time. It was the sound of people. People united in a common cause. People so driven by emotion that the only thing they could do was scream out in unison. What I heard was the sound of thousands screaming my name. Mine. The name of the invisible woman.”

Abby slowly drops her head down to look into the camera, eyes wide in delight.

“You trusted me.”

Abby gives three curt nods. As her head comes back after the third nod, gone is the wide-eyed expression; in its stead is a stern expression. She takes a step towards the camera, unblinking. Focused. Intent.

“But I betrayed that trust. I couldn’t live up to your expectations. Johnny Cannon did not hear that familiar sound of defeat. But neither did I. Now, with any luck, Cannon is furious that he has to go up against me yet again and will no doubt waste your time with meaningless boasts of superiority or whatever it is he blabs on and on about. I’ll get to Cannon in due time. But right now I don’t want to talk about him or our rematch at March of War. No, I want to talk about someone else.”

Abby takes a lengthy pause. She turns her head upwards once more and lifts the microphone to her mouth.

“I want to talk about Fiona Rourke.”

Her head turns back to the camera, smiling so intent that her teeth are showing.

"Yes, I know you don't want to hear me talk about her yet again, but as we are both involved in the Winter Road, I feel now is as good a time as any."

Abby drops the smile but maintains the friendly demeanor.

“Fiona, I’d like to say that my issues with you were resolved when we faced each other oh so long ago now, but I don’t like to lie if I can avoid it. I like you, Fiona, I really do. But I keep going back to our match and I keep coming to the same conclusion.”

Abby takes a deep breath before continuing.

“I should not have shaken your hand. I’m not being a poor sport, especially not this far removed from the event, but I keep replaying that encounter in my head and only now do I realize what a mistake it was. It was you who offered your hand to me. It was you who finally acknowledged that I can walk better than I can talk. It was you showing respect. And that is the issue I have with you, Fiona. I do not deserve your respect. It wasn't until this ordeal with Cannon that I really began to understand this.

You are a better woman than I, Fiona. Not stronger, mind you, but better. I was nothing more than a bully to you. Sure, in this line of work the bullies are around every corner and some of them have chairs, but I was still a bully. Not necessarily an effective one, but that's why I stopped. I hate bullies. I'm sure you do too. Bullies like Iwakuma and his little Legion pals. Bullies like Johnny Cannon and his helper monkey who was the sole reason for our draw. I didn't see it at the time, but in my blind quest for victory and self-assurance, I was teetering on the verge of becoming what I hate. But then you shook my hand. You were able to look past the petty insults and snide insinuations and still offer a handshake. In that moment you proved that you were the better woman. It wasn't the victory. It was something as simple as a handshake.”

Abby takes a step back and closes her eyes for a few seconds, her breath rate increasing.

“Let me make my intentions clear before you and Mr. Collins get the wrong idea. It might be wrong of me to pick favorites for something like this, but I want to make you a promise, Fiona. Promise me that come March of War you will do to Kliff Ulysses what you did to me, Iwakuma, and everyone else who had the misfortune to face off against you. And in return I promise you I will plow through Johnny Cannon and Omar Wise so that we can square off one more time. When we do, you’ll see a different Abby Park. One who can face you as an equal. One who will truly be worthy of your respect. Of everyone's respect. One no longer shackled by the chains of victory. And win or lose, it will be me shaking your hand.”

The camera zooms in on Abby’s face.

“Trust me.”

She winks.

Abby tilts her head to the left and walks out of frame. The camera turns to follow her but as it turns the camera spins and drops to the ground. The retreating figure of Abby appears to be walking sideways. The camera suddenly cuts to black as “Trust me” continues to echo. Frantically the figure behind the camera scrambles to cut it off. The last thing heard before silence is a final

“Trust me.”

CUT