by Lily Zante
“But what?” I sense an opportunity since she appears to be thinking about it.
“I can’t see him get hit.”
“Me neither, Nina.” I’ve pushed that thought away the entire time. I have this notion that I’ll look away, or look at my phone, or cover my eyes like I do when I watch horror movies. Or I’ll be so irritated by Gerry sitting next to me that I won’t have the presence of mind to watch the match intently. “We can help keep each other distracted,” I offer jokingly. “Gerry isn’t always the best company and if you’re there, you and I can support one another through it.”
She opens her mouth, then hesitates. “I…I would like to be there for him.”
“Then come!”
“But the tickets…” She looks worried.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll have a word with Lou in secret. You’re Eli’s sister. There’s no way you getting a ticket is going to be a problem.”
“I don’t… ” She doesn’t say it, but I have a feeling I know. “I don’t get paid until the end of the month, and my boss isn’t going to give me an advance.”
“I’ll advance you,” I say brightly. “It’s not a problem at all, and I already have a big hotel room. With two beds.” I don’t, yet. But I will soon.
She looks sheepish, and a little embarrassed, and I understand. I also know the salve to soothe this over with. “You would be helping me out, Nina, and we’d be there for Eli. That’s what matters, doesn’t it?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
ELI
* * *
Harper and I have agreed on a complete communication cutoff ever since I arrived in New York a few days ago.
It’s the day before the fight and Garrison and I have had the pre-fight weigh-in where we’ve squared up to one another in front of the cameras. Garrison owns the room; he really does, and the press loves him. Everyone wants to talk to him. He is a one-man show and he loves it.
He loves the fame, and he shines like the million mega-watt star that he is. I sit on the stage quietly biding my time and watching my tongue.
I had dinner again with Nina the night before we flew to New York. I told her I have a cool hotel room to stay in, and there’s a ticket for her if she wants it.
She knows this fight is big and I could see the guilty look on her face. I tried to convince her, because even though I’m not scared of Garrison, I’m slightly nervous about walking into a place full of thousands of people and none of them being on my side.
It makes me feel abandoned and unwanted all over again. It makes me feel not good enough. But I couldn’t convince my sister, so I left it. I wish Harper could come, but she says her boss won’t let her, and that she’s got to make a few changes to the piece she’s done on me. I miss her. I miss her like crazy.
Tommy Cairns, the promoter, has put us up in a nice place not so far from Madison Square Garden. He’s as shifty as a mob boss and I don’t trust him one bit. Lou doesn’t either, but if it wasn’t for him thinking I’d be an easy opponent for Garrison, I wouldn’t be here.
Either way, I stand to make money. Life-changing money, apparently, though I’m not entirely sure of the exact amount. Lou mentioned something about four million dollars. That’s crazy. It’s a leap into the unknown. It means freedom—for both of us.
I don’t want to focus on the money too much. I want to focus on winning. Those are two separate things to me. But that kind of money is something that neither me nor Nina can imagine. I don’t even know what a hundred-dollar bill looks like. In any case, it would mean we crawled out of the gutter and now we’re on level ground.
It means Nina doesn’t have to work stupid hours at the diner, and she can maybe pursue work related to those courses she keeps taking.
It doesn’t mean I’ll stop boxing. I have a taste for it and if I can make big money from it, I’ll gladly do it.
The room is buzzing. Garrison’s in a good mood as he answers questions about his training and his love life. The camera doesn’t pan to me much. I don’t get asked many questions, but I'm content to sit observing the show.
Then one of the reporters asks me how I feel about being called ‘the kid with nothing’.
Garrison butts in. “Damn right he’s the kid with nothing, ‘cos he’s gonna walk into the ring with nothing, and he’s gonna leave with nothing… no title, no belt.” He guffaws loudly, causing a ripple of laughs among the press. “Nothing but punches and bruises and maybe a couple of broken bones,” Garrison adds, still grinning like the big ugly oaf that he is. The reporters love this baiting. He rises to it. “Going out with nothing, and on a stretcher,” he says, cutting me a mean look and flexing his muscles.
I can’t figure out if he’s a comedian or a boxer. I’ve fought meaner-looking guys at the fight club.
“What do you have to say to that, Elias?” someone asks me.
I sit forward and look around the room before replying. “He’s right. I have nothing, and I also have nothing to lose. I took this fight on short notice after a handful of not-so-great potential opponents turned it down, and I saw my chance. I’m a 29/1 shot to win this. Not just this but multiple titles; WBO, WBA, IBF and IBO. That’s what Garrison has to lose.”
And I have everything to gain.
The room quiets briefly, Garrison looks slightly confused by my statement, as if he’s expecting me to trash talk back, as if he’s waiting for me to say more.
The reporter looks baffled, as if he too is waiting for me to say more. But I have nothing more to add.
Some boxers get into the ring to make money, to hit the bigtime. Those things are important to me, but they are secondary. I’m not supposed to step into the ring wanting to kill a man, but I can't help it. Boxing is my therapy, and my opponent is at a disadvantage before the fight has begun. Garrison has no idea who Swain is or what he did to me, and he has no idea that he’s wearing Swain’s face.
See?
I told you.
Garrison's already at a disadvantage before we step into the ring.
The air in the room suddenly turns heavy, then Garrison starts talking trash again, and the tension pops like a balloon.
I sit back and let Garrison enjoy his celebrity for the few hours he’s got it.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
HARPER
* * *
“This is Gerry, one of the guys I work with.” I introduce Nina to Gerry.
“And this is Nina, Elias’s sister,” I tell Gerry. “We met at the diner a few weeks ago.”
“So we did. Nice to meet you.” Gerry seems annoyed that Nina is with me, despite his attempt at friendliness.
Nina seems a little wary of him, probably because of all that I’ve told her about Gerry.
We’re all staying at the same hotel, and Nina and I are sharing a room. It was easy to tweak my arrangements. I changed my flight so that I could fly here on the morning of the fight, instead of coming with Gerry the night before. It made sense to come with Nina, otherwise I was afraid she might bail at the last minute if I left her to come on her own.
We’re all booked on the same flight back tomorrow night, though. With only hours to go before the fight, I’m anxious for Eli and I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees us ringside.
New York is busy and noisy, as is the hotel where we’re staying. It’s around the block from where Eli is staying, so there’s no chance of us bumping into him, but it’s as if most of the people watching the fight have booked into all the hotels within a one-mile radius of the venue.
I feel like an ant in a colony and I don’t suppose the fight will be any easier.
We’re meeting to get something to eat before the fight. It doesn’t start for a few hours, but we want to eat early and chill out.
I sense that Nina is as nervous as I am. I wish this fight was over and that I could just go to the changing room now and hug Eli.
‘Garrison vs Cardoza’ posters and fliers are everywhere, all over the billboards and in the newspap
ers. The air buzzes with electric anticipation. The fight is all everyone talks about. Or rather, Garrison is all everyone talks about.
My belief in Elias starts to waver a teeny bit. We are surrounded by an ocean of Garrison fans, and as hard as I grip onto my hope for Eli, it’s impossible for my faith not to waver a little.
I am so happy that Nina is here. She’s easygoing, if a little quiet, and we get along well. She doesn’t know me, so I understand her desire to keep her distance. I’ve never shared a hotel room with a total stranger before, but her being Eli’s sister doesn’t make her a complete stranger. This weekend would have been a whole lot nicer if it was only me and her. With Gerry, our small group seems a little strained.
He is still mildly distant towards me, and I don’t know if it’s because he suspects that something’s going on between me and Eli, or if he’s put out about Nina being here. I soon find out, however, when Nina excuses herself and heads to the bathroom.
“How close are you to Cardoza?”
That primes me, the way he throws Eli’s surname at me.
“You mean Eli?” I say, purposely wanting to piss him off. He can’t know anything about us. We haven’t engaged in any public displays of affection, and even at the training camp, our adventures were under the radar.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, because his question is so vague.
“You’re here with his sister.”
I peer at him coldly. “She’s his sister. I got to know her because she worked in the diner around the corner. We became friends.”
“And you and Cardoza?”
“He’s the subject of my article. I had to get to know him.”
He nods and he’s about to say something when Nina returns.
We revert to small talk again.
“Nervous?” I ask her, when Gerry disappears to make a phone call and to get away from the noisy restaurant.
“Your boss doesn’t like me.”
“He’s not my boss,” I clarify.
“You said he was the senior sports editor.”
“He’s still not my boss.”
“I can tell he doesn’t like me,” she claims.
“He’s a Garrison fan,” I reply, as if that explains it. “And he doesn’t like me much either.”
We laugh.
“Can you see why I was so desperate for you to come with me?” I ask.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
HARPER
* * *
My heart feels like it’s going to pop, and the fight hasn’t even begun.
Nina’s knuckles are white, and she already looks as if she’s going to throw up. We’ve been here for an hour, waiting. I can’t bear to wait another moment, but I’ve said this for every minute since I sat down.
There have been other fights taking place before the main one. We arrived halfway through and started watching.
But now it’s time for the main fight to start.
Garrison vs Cardoza.
Garrison struts in first as if he owns The Garden. His entrance is pure showbiz. Music blasts out into the arena, and the crowds scream their excitement. He is surrounded by a mini army of stern-faced men marching beside him. It’s a show complete with lights and music and dramatic effect.
I would expect nothing less from him.
Eli’s entrance could not be more of a contrast. It’s simple. There is no tune, just him walking in with Lou and the boys behind him.
He looks focused. Hard and determined. There is no anxiety in his expression. No sign of weakness or of overwhelm.
I’m the one who feels anxious, and scared, and worried. I’m the one shifting on my seat, feeling completely overwhelmed. Actually, it’s me and Nina who both feel this way. I can tell each time I glance at her.
The fight starts and my insides jolt. I clasp my hands together and coach myself to breathe.
I resist the urge to run out. Nina looks as if she's seen a ghost. Her hands still grip the armrest as if she too is ready to scramble.
They dance around, and then Garrison throws a jab, and it hits Eli straight in his ribs.
Already?
I sit up and stare without blinking. I forget to breathe. He recovers from it though, and his hands are up again, in ready-to-fight mode.
They dance around some more, and Garrison is smiling as he's moving. They're both quick-footed, moving around the ring with ease, oblivious to the thousands of pairs of eyes trained on them.
I forget to breathe every few minutes.
This is only the first round, and I can't see myself getting through to the twelfth.
I pray this will finish in three rounds.
Garrison swings out again, and this time Eli blocks it, until Garrison hooks him with a sharp uppercut that catches him at the side of his face.
The crowd screams in delight.
I sink back into my chair.
Now my hands are on the armrest, on top of Nina’s. I move them away then rest them on my lap.
I want to close my eyes because Garrison takes another swing but this time, Eli blocks it and lands a powerful punch to his abs.
Garrison doubles over.
A low murmur ripples through the crowd.
It's tiny, but it's an upset.
And the bell rings.
After a quick rest, they’re back up again for round two. Eli evens up. They dance around. It's a perfect match, punch for punch. Jab for jab. They look almost equal to me.
I tell myself this is good.
No, this is great.
Again, I forget to breathe.
I turn and glance at Nina from time to time.
And I force myself to witness the man I love fighting in the fight of his life.
I don't want to be here, but I also can’t walk away.
I don’t want to watch this, but I also can’t look away.
I lose count of who's hit who the most. Sometimes Eli is in the lead, and sometimes Garrison comes out with a killer punch. The rounds roll by, and the whole time I forget to breathe. I forget to blink. Before we know it, we’re into the fifth round. Eli is hit and he bounces against the ropes. He staggers as he comes off them. Garrison eyes him like a predatory lion, waiting, waiting, waiting to pounce again.
Eli shakes his head, and I see his eye is cut.
The ref stops the round, and Eli goes to his corner where Lou and the cut man tend to his wound.
I swallow, then realize I'm gripping Nina's hand on the armrest again. I pull it away, and glance at her. She looks at me, and we both look worried.
We turn to Eli again. I can't see his face because Lou's crowding over him, probably telling him what he needs to hear.
I pray.
Then Eli gets up, and the angry red gash over his eye is clearly noticeable.
And then he sees me. It's a quick look. We’re three rows from the front. Even from this distance, I can see Eli blink in disbelief.
I want to wave, but this isn't a pantomime. I can't make him lose concentration.
The round continues. It’s hard to tell who’s in the lead because it’s such a tight match, but surely the crowd, and all the doubters, can see that Eli’s more than holding his own?
We reach round six, but even though we’re almost halfway through, I don't think I can make it to round twelve.
I squeeze my eyes shut and massage my temples. I’m doing nothing but sitting here and watching, and yet I feel drained. I find it hard to watch this. Eli has put his heart and soul into this fight. I recall the grueling training sessions at the gym and at the training camp. I remember our conversations and his hopes and dreams, and I remember his nightmares and horrors, too.
I desperately want him to win, and in my frustration I find myself wondering why he hasn’t knocked Garrison out yet because I so want this fight over with. They’re both so equally matched that it’s hard to figure out who is ahead. Gerry would offer an opinion, but I have no intention on listening to anything he has to say.
The c
rowd roars, and I look up, but I missed it. I was so absorbed in my selfishness, that I didn’t see what Garrison did, but Eli's on the floor.
I’m at the edge of my seat again, but what I really want to do is run over to him. The ref starts to count as Eli lies on the floor.
Get up! Get up!
I strain to make out movement. He lifts his head, and I squint to see his expression. But he gets up quick as a flash, and this time he looks mad.
He dances around Garrison so fast that I’m not sure where he got this sudden burst of energy from. Garrison tries to land some punches but Eli doesn’t let any of his blows touch him.
I don't know what happened, but Eli’s suddenly sped up.
I sit forward even more because I sense a shift in something. Eli looks sharper. He looks like he did back in the gym when he was sparring with the boys.
Garrison senses the shift too. Or maybe he's tired.
He seems a little shaky to me this time, as if he's not as nimble as he was four rounds back.
It's a game of minds, of mental strength because, just when it seemed that Eli had the upper hand, Garrison’s arm goes back as if he’s about to land another killer left hook. I close my eyes, fearing the worst.
Only I don't hear it.
I don’t hear the smack of fist on skin.
But I open my eyes in time to see the killer punch Eli delivers to Garrison’s side.
Garrison falls to the floor with a thud. I gasp. Nina does too. The crowd goes quiet.
Garrison gets up and staggers around. He looks at his corner, shakes his head. Looks at Eli, then pulls up his hands, readying himself again.
Only, he doesn't look as ready, or as sure as he did before.
When the bell rings, he staggers to his corner and slumps on the stool.
I stare at Eli. Aside from the cut above his eye, he looks untouched.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
ELI
* * *