Title: Recovery - Prologue (Part 2)
Featuring: Bryan Dawkins
Date: April 11, 2011
Location: ReV 244 vs. Katt Wylde

As the Honda Civic slowed to a stop on the shoulder of the highway, Trooper Kowahe let out a sigh of relief. Let’s face it, the last thing a State Trooper wants to deal with on any given day is a high-speed chase. It’s part of the job, but it’s also a part that nobody enjoys.

Bryan, on the other hand, was sweating bullets. The fact that his father was in the hospital with, presumably, a heart issue coupled with the fact that there was now no way in hell he was getting to Waimea was just not the ideal way to go about his day.

“Fuck.”

Dawkins muttered as he rolled down the window, awaiting the arrival of the Trooper Kowahe. Kowahe took his time, radioing the dispatch and informing them of the end to the chase, essentially calling off the dogs, so-to-speak. The native Hawaiian Trooper exited the vehicle and cautiously made his way towards the Civic, with a hand perched atop his gun holster.

“Sir, I’m going to need you to step out of the vehicle with your hands where I can see them.”

Dawkins slowly cracked the door open, and with hands above his head, exited the vehicle without hesitation. Cooperation would be the name of the game for the Flyin’ Hawaiian; confrontation would only further the inevitable consequences.

“Okay good, now if you could step to the side of the vehicle and place your hands on the roof of the car so I could ask you some questions.”

“Sure thing, bruh.”

Again, cooperation was key for this to go as smoothly as possible for Dawkins. And although this was a very serious matter, he couldn’t help but study the Trooper; he looked too familiar to Dawkins.

“Now, do you have any idea how fast you were going, sir?”

The Bruh, still studying the Trooper, quickly answered.

“Over a hundred, bruh. Easily.”

Dawkins sighed, attempting to keep calm.

“So you were well aware that you were going nearly double the legal speed limit?”

A slight nod of the head from Dawkins.

“Yeah bruh. My bad…”

“Your bad? Come on. What reason could you possibly have for going that fast? You punk kids with your modified street racers, always thinking you can run these roads like they’re a fucking racetrack.”

All the while, through the Trooper’s entire speech, Dawkins studied the name on his uniform. It, too, was familiar to him. Kowahe was a younger Trooper, couldn’t have been in the force for very long. Bryan knew him from somewhere.

“My pops, bruh. He got rushed to Waimea because of some chest pains. I just wanted to get there…”

Kowahe, unphased, slowly paced around the Civic, examining the car for anything he would deem illegal or warrant a search. But alas, nothing. Everything checked out perfectly legal.

“Well regardless, going double the speed limit and refusing to stop for an officer isn’t a light offense. I’m gonna need your license and registration. And I’m gonna need to take you to the barracks until we figure out what to do with you.”

Again, a sigh from Dawkins, only this time, tears began to well up. Not making it to Waimea to see his father was the worst possible outcome, and it was happening right now.

Under the close watch of Kowahe, Dawkins slowly reached into the glove compartment, retrieved his vehicle registration, and handed it and his license over to the Trooper.

“Okay, come with me. Take a seat in the patrol car while I run this through.”

Dawkins did as was advised, and Kowahe made himself comfortable in the driver’s seat. He ran the registration, which came up clean. The license also cleared the system, but the name seemed awfully familiar to the Trooper.

“So, you’re THE Bryan Dawkins?”

Dejectedly, Dawkins mumbled his response.

“Yep, bruh. That’d be me.”

“PRIME wrestler. Three-time state champion, hundred ninety-one weight class?”

“Present.”

For the first time in the entire encounter, Kowahe cracked a smile.

“You know, I was about ninety seconds away from winning those last two state titles from you…”

And just like that, it all connected.

Paulo Kowahe was one of the top ranked Hawaiian interscholastic wrestlers the state had ever seen. The only problem for him was that there was another in his weight class who was even better: Bryan Dawkins.

Dawkins and Kowahe met multiple times from their freshmen years all the way through their senior years, with the last two state championship matches involving both wrestlers. Dawkins got the better of Kowahe in both meetings, but not without a fight. Kowahe was much stronger than Dawkins, but Dawkins’ reach and quickness proved to be the x-factor in both bouts.

“Wow, bruh. How you been?”

Dawkins fondly remembered four years’ worth of matches against Kowahe, in addition to all of the tape and footage he had watched in preparation for their numerous bouts through the years. He, too, cracked a small grin for the first time in their current meeting.

“Well, I got a job, obviously. I like it, though. Keeps me in shape and I still get to be physical every once in a while, you know? Shit, of course you do, you still do this for a living.”

“Eh, it’s a bit different now, but I know what you mean. It’s a shame we had to meet up in these circumstances.”

“Yeah, but a job’s a job. You should know that better than anyone.”

Finally, the paperwork ran through and printed on Kowahe’s in-car printer.

“Alright, Bryan. Wanna grab your things from the car and we can head down to the station?”

After the short side conversation, the realization yet again set in that Dawkins was still in trouble.

“Yeah bruh. Just gimme a minute.”

With Kowahe acting as his supervisor, Dawkins gathered his belongings from his car and headed back into the rear of the patrol car. Another team of Troopers pulled up just in time to catch Dawkins and Kowahe, and one of the Troopers drove Dawkins’ car to the station behind them.

It would prove to be the beginning of a long, long day for the Flyin’ Hawaiian.
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