Free Body Slammed! by Ray Villareal

drums. Behind the drums, the wall was covered with wrestling masks.
    TJ opened the refrigerator door and took out two beer bottles. “Ready for one now?”
    â€œNo, thanks,” Jesse said. He’d had a great evening, but something didn’t feel right about drinking a beer with TJ.
    TJ shrugged and put one of the bottles back.
    â€œI didn’t know you play the drums,” Jesse said.
    â€œYeah, but not like I used to.” TJ sat on a barstool and sipped his beer. “When I was in high school, I was a band nerd. I played the drums for the Mackenzie Mustangs Marching Band in Amarillo.”
    â€œI used to play the drums, too,” Jesse said. “We lived in St. Louis for a while, and I joined my school’s band. I wanted to learn how to play the trumpet, but my band director stuck me in the percussion section.”
    â€œDrumsticks are right there,” TJ said, pointing with his bottle. “Let’s see what you can do.”
    Jesse picked up the sticks and sat on a stool behind the drums. He banged on them, and then stopped when he realized how late it was. He didn’t want to disturb the neighbors.
    â€œBack in high school, a couple of my buddies and I formed a rock band,” TJ said. “We called ourselves Midnight Dreams. We even got a few gigs at school functions and stuff. We were gonna be famous rock stars and tour the world. Then reality set in. We graduated and went our separate ways.”
    â€œMy father used to have a band, too,” Jesse said. “But I don’t know if they called themselves anything.”
    â€œHey, since you play the guitar, maybe you can bring it over sometime and we can jam together.”
    Jesse told TJ he’d take him up on his offer. They pulled out their cell phones and exchanged numbers.
    â€œWhere did you get all the masks?” Jesse asked, staring at the dining room wall.
    â€œI bought most of them at a little shop near the Alamo. But some of the better quality masks I got from the wrestlers who wore them.” TJ pointed to a red and white mask. “Solomon Grimm gave me that one. It’s one of the masks he wore when he wrestled as Kronos. Carlos Montoya gave me one of his Azteca Dorado masks. I guess he won’t need his masks anymore once he becomes Brother Jeremiah. Of course, you recognize that one.” TJ pointed to Jesse’s father’s old Annihilator mask. “Now over here are masks of famous Mexican luchadores who were around long before your time. That one is . . . ”
    â€œI know who they are,” Jesse said. “That one is Blue Demon. This other one is Mil Máscaras. And of course, everyone knows El Santo.”
    TJ smiled. “I’m impressed.”
    â€œMy father told me about them,” Jesse said. “He’s a huge fan of lucha libre . When we were in Mexico City on vacation, he introduced me to the Mexican wrestling promotion, Consejo Mundial de Lucha Libre, and we went to the Arena México to watch the matches.” Jesse marveled at all the masks. “You’ve got an awesome collection, TJ.”
    â€œThanks. Glad you like them. Tell you what. Pick any mask you want and it’s yours.”
    Jesse had dozens of wrestling action figures but no masks, except for his father’s Annihilator ones. He scrutinized each one. He liked Don Jardine’s mask that he wore when he wrestled as the Spoiler. The Rey Misterio mask was pretty awesome-looking, too. But there was one that especially caught his eye. “Can I have the Mil Máscaras mask?”
    â€œSure.” TJ pulled out the push pin that held the mask and took it down.
    Mil Máscaras, the man of a thousand masks, supposedly wore a different mask each time he wrestled. The one TJ gave Jesse was a metallic-silver color with black, jagged trim around the eyes, nose and mouth, and black triangular lines on the top. The mask had a red M in the middle, above the eye slits.
    TJ