by Bob Blanton
Matthew walked over to Brea and Jason. He was breathing hard, “That was the easy one.”
They watched the next two fights. The winners were able to dominate their fights about the same way Matthew had dominated his. “Now it’s down to the three of us, Macklin, Andrews and me,” Matthew pointed to the other two contestants as he put his mouth piece back in.
The fight against Andrews was a much tougher fight for Matthew. When Andrews charged, Matthew kicked him like he had the first guy, but Andrews was able to block a couple and keep coming in. Matthew would have to keep dancing backwards either kicking or punching until he could re-establish position. Andrews didn’t land very many shots, but when he did it looked like a pile driver had hit Matthew. Late in the round, like in the last fight, Matthew was able to get to the side of Andrews and drive him sideways with a series of punches and kicks. He didn’t have a chance to do a spin kick, but he really drove Andrews out of the ring.
“Time!”
Matthew won. Everyone took a five-minute break, and then Andrews fought Macklin. Andrews had no trouble beating him, he actually knocked Macklin down twice.
“That guy Andrews looks like Rambo,” Jason said. “How old is he?”
“He’s almost eighteen,” Matthew said, “and I’m sure he barely made the weight. Probably dehydrated himself before the weigh-in.”
“Well you’ve already beaten him.”
“I know, but I have to beat him again to win the gold.”
“What?” Brianna yelped.
“It’s double elimination. Everyone has to lose twice except the winner,” Matthew said. “I’m up again.”
Matthew didn’t have any trouble winning his fight against Macklin. Macklin was clearly tired, and the knockdowns by Andrews had taken their toll. When the referee called time, Macklin was obviously happy to settle for the bronze medal.
“Five minutes,” the referee shouted.
“That’s not fair,” Brianna said, “Andrews has been resting while you fought.”
“Luck of the draw,” was all Matthew said as he took a big drink of water. He was still breathing hard from his fight.
“Fighters up,” the referee shouted.
“Here goes.”
“Good luck.”
Matthew and Andrews performed the bows to open the match. Then he waited for the referee.
“Fight!”
Andrews charged Matthew. Matthew circled backwards, using his kicks to ward him off. Andrews just kept charging relentlessly. He finally got close enough to land a solid punch to Matthew’s chest. Andrews followed up the shot with a kick that rocked Matthew back. Matthew danced to the side trying to keep out of Andrews’ way while he caught his breath. The kick had clearly jarred Matthew. Andrews made another hard charge, and Matthew leapt to the side and landed a hard kick to Andrews’ ribs. As Andrews staggered back, Matthew charged with two quick punches, each stopping an inch in front of Andrews’ face before Matthew pulled them back. Then Andrews made another bull charge. Matthew danced backwards, kicking Andrews in the chest as he tried to stop the charge. Andrews pushed Matthew’s leg to the side as he was withdrawing the kick, and got inside, punching Matthew twice in the ribs. Matthew danced backwards and to the side to get out of the way of Andrews’ rush.
“Time!” the referee shouted.
“All right, Matt,” Jeffrey yelled, “that should lock it up for him.”
The referee looked to the side judges for a decision. One pointed to Matthew, the other pointed to Andrews.
The referee raised Andrews’ hand. “No way!” shouted Jeffrey.
Matthew looked disappointed as he walked over to his friends. “You were robbed,” Jason said.
“I thought I’d won it,” Matthew said, “but the referee saw otherwise. At least I’ve got one more shot. I hope Andrews is too exhausted to fight like that again.”
“That’s it,” the referee called out. “Gold, silver, bronze,” he said pointing to Andrews, Matthew and Macklin.
“What? I get another shot. It’s double elimination.”
“No, that was the gold-medal fight,” the referee said.
“But that was my only loss, I already beat him once.”
“That’s it,” the referee said. As Matthew started to protest again, he added, “I’ll be happy to take your silver and give it to Macklin.”
Matthew shut up and left the ring. He threw his headgear to the floor beside Jeffrey.
“What happened?” Brianna asked.
“That’s it. He just gave Andrews the gold medal for Christmas,” Matthew’s voice was quaking from anger.
“He can’t do that,” Jeffrey said. “You only lost one fight, and you beat Andrews once, so he can’t win the gold.”
“Well, the big shot just gave it to him. Let’s go.”
“You have to stay for the medal ceremony,” Jeffrey said. “Or they’ll take away all your medals.”
Matthew grudgingly agreed with Jeffrey and waited with his friends for the medals to be awarded. “How did you do?” Matthew asked Jeffrey.
“I won the gold,” Jeffrey said sedately.
“Way to go!” Matthew yelled and gave Jeffrey a high five. “That’s great. Did you go undefeated?”
“Yes.”
“Impressive. Sifu will be setting up your brown sash test pretty soon then. You had to beat a Black Sash didn’t you?”
“Yes, Mr. Beeman,” Jeffrey said.
“You had to fight an adult?” Brianna said.
“No, we call each other Mr. as a sign of respect,” Matthew said. “I don’t even know Mr. Beeman’s first name.”
“I don’t either, but it’s a good thing I’m three inches taller and eight pounds heavier,” Jeffrey said. “He was really mad when I beat him.”
“Did you have to fight him twice?” Matthew asked.
“No, Mr. Cowel beat him too; but I think he got robbed on that one.”
“Here comes Sifu Lee,” Matthew said.
“Hi, Mr. Brandt. How did you do?”
“I got the silver,” Matthew said, obviously disappointed.
“He got robbed, Sifu. He should have won the fight, but the referee gave it to Andrews, and then he didn’t even let Matthew go again.”
“What, you only lost once?” Sifu Lee looked surprised.
“Yeah, just the last fight.”
“Did you tell the referee?”
“Yes, and he threatened to take away the silver if I didn’t shut up.”
“Well his decision is final, but you should have gotten a second fight. It’s too late, but I’ll try to find out why.”
“Thanks,” Matthew muttered.
After the medal ceremony, Jeffrey and Jennifer came up to Matthew. “Wasn’t the referee from the Green Dragon?” Jeffrey asked.
“Yes, why?”
“I think I know why you lost.”
“Why?”
“Mr. Stevens won the grand championship by only two points over you. If you had won the gold, you’d be grand champion.”
“What does he mean?” Jason and Brianna asked together.
“Mr. Stevens is from the Green Dragon.”
“And so was the ref that fixed your fight,” Jason said. “That stinks.”
“Politics always stinks,” Matthew said. “Let’s go.”
“Jen, are you coming with us?”
“No, Jeffrey’s mom is going to give me a ride home.”
As Matthew, Brianna and Jason walked off, Matthew said, “Looks like Jeffrey’s not the only one going home with a gold medal.”
“Or maybe he’s going home with an extra prize,” Jason snickered.
“Be nice,” Brianna said. “Is your Sifu going to do anything about you getting robbed?”
“He’ll talk to Master Wynn, but they won’t change anything. They have to back the instructors and refs.”
“That really bites,” Jason said.
“Well, at least Andrews knows I beat him.”
“Are you s
ure?”
“When we were getting our medals, he told me he didn’t think the ref was fair.”
“Well, we’ll just take that baby and paint it gold,” Jason said.
“I don’t need another gold medal. I won five. It’s just that the fighting is the real deal; they’re the medals that count.”
When they dropped Matthew off at his house, he was still in a bad mood.
“Matt, don’t forget about the Chargers game Monday Night.”
“Oh right, I almost forgot. You’re picking me up at 4:30, right?”
“Right. The Jets are going to kick the Chargers’ butt.”
“Just remember, you’re going to be on our side of the stands. If you get out of line, we’ll toss you down the stairs.
“Yeah, just make sure you bring plenty of Kleenex to cry into,” Jason shouted as he gunned the engine and drove off.
◆ ◆ ◆
Monday morning, Matthew was waiting outside his house when Jason drove up.
“I thought Brea would be with you,” Matthew said.
“It would mean she has to get up thirty minutes earlier,” Jason said. “She doesn’t like you that much.”
“How’s she getting to school then?”
“Alex is giving her a ride.”
“Doesn’t that cut into Alex’s sleep?”
“Not really, our house is on her way. Now enough with the twenty questions. Get in.”
“Sure.” Matthew got into the car. “To school, James.”
“Don’t rub it in.”
“Why not?” Matthew said. “You shouldn’t bet on the Jets if you can’t stand losing.”
“I don’t know if I can take a week of you gloating,” Jason replied.
“Oh, don’t worry; the gloating will get old after a couple of days. What was that score by the way?”
“You remember the score, so can it.”
“I remember the Chargers scored 42 points, but I can’t remember what the Jets scored.”
“Shut up.”
“Oh, maybe it’s because they never scored,” Matthew gloated.
Jason reached over and turned the radio up beyond its normally loud setting until it was impossible for either boy to hear the other. Matthew decided that he had gotten as much satisfaction as he could for the day so he sat back and let the music wash over him. It only took ten minutes to reach the school. The car skipped a little as Jason pulled into the parking lot. He had just parked beside Alex’s Jaguar when the security guard came over.
“Mr. Winthrop, that was an unsafe turn, you were going too fast.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Hicks,” Jason replied. “I won’t do it again.”
Mr. Hicks had his pen out and was getting ready to write up a citation.
“Crap,” Jason said under his breath.
“Mr. Hicks, can you give him a break? I was riding him about the Chargers stomping the Jets yesterday, so it was really my fault,” Matthew said.
“That was a good game,” Mr. Hicks replied. “The Chargers were hitting on all cylinders.”
“He lost a bet and has to chauffeur me all week,” Matthew went on. “Can you let him go this once?”
“All right,” Mr. Hicks said, “although I should write him a ticket for being a Jets fan.”
“He’s from New York and has only been out here for about a year. Don’t worry, we’ll convert him soon.”
As Mr. Hicks walked off, Jason let out a sigh of relief. “Whew, I thought I was going to lose my driving privileges. I’ve already got one citation from school.”
“Well, you’d better clean up your act then,” Brianna said.
“Where did you come from?”
“Hi, Brea,” Matthew said, giving her a kiss.
“Alex and I were standing over there when you came in on two wheels.”
“Don’t tell Dad,” Jason pleaded.
“I wouldn’t want Matthew to lose his chauffeur, otherwise I might need more persuading,” Brianna said. “You should consider yourself lucky; otherwise I might have needed a new pair of shoes,” she laughed.
◆ ◆ ◆
On Friday the school was almost out of control. The football team had won the state championship the night before, the Winter Ball was Saturday, and school was out on Tuesday, not that many of the students were planning on being there Monday.
“Hi, Matt,” Emily hollered as she waved to him.
“Hi, Emily. You’re still amped from the game,” Matthew said.
“Yes. They’re having a victory party tonight at Tyler’s house. Do you want to come?”
“No.”
“Come on, Tyler invited you. He said that without you they wouldn’t have made it.”
“I think that’s an exaggeration,” Matthew said.
“If you hadn’t figured out that they were stealing our signals that game, the coach would have benched Tyler. And if we’d have lost that game, we wouldn’t have made it into the playoffs.”
“It’s still a stretch. Tyler won the games. Anyway I’m sitting for Jessica; Mom’s going to a play with some friends.”
“Are you going to sit with us at the Ball?” Emily asked.
“Sure. If Jason and I want to sit with our dates, we’re going to have to sit with you,” Matthew said. “Brea and Alex have made it clear where they’re sitting.”
Emily laughed as they walked to class. “It’s going to be impossible to pay attention today. Everyone is so hyped up. They should just call it a day and let us go home.”
“There’s the principal, why don’t you go suggest it to her.” Matthew just avoided Emily’s elbow.
The Winter Ball
“Mom, has the limo showed up yet?”
“Not yet, aren’t you ready? It’s already 8:00, so you’re going to be late.”
“Don’t worry, Brea wants to be fashionably late, and it’s only ten minutes to her house and then ten to the country club. But the limo is supposed to be here by 8:00.”
“It’s here,” yelled Jessica, who’d been keeping a watch at the window. “It’s a long black one.”
“Thanks for telling us, sweetie; now go out and tell the driver that Matty will be there in a minute.”
“Can I go in?”
“No!” shouted Matthew, “I don’t want it to get sticky.”
“Matthew, be nice. She just had a bath,” Mrs. Brandt said, giving Jessica a pat on the head. “Go ahead and ask the driver. But you have to get right out when Matty comes out.”
“Great! Matty, don’t hurry.” Jessica raced out the front door and to the limo.
“Now Matty, relax, you can’t let this date get you all stressed. If you don’t tone it down a little, you’re going to scare poor Brianna half to death.”
“I know, but I want it to be perfect,” Matthew was putting on his bow tie as he walked down the stairs.
“It’ll be fine. I don’t think Brianna is looking for perfection, just a nice time,” Mrs. Brandt helped Matthew adjust his bow tie. “Now stand back and let me get a look at you.”
Matthew blushed, but did as his mother asked. “Does the jacket fit?”
“It’s perfect, you look so nice. Now promise me that you’ll get pictures at the dance.”
“Don’t worry; Brea warned me that Cara’s planning on taking a bunch at their house. And they’ve got a professional photographer at the dance.”
“Good, then you’re good to go,” Mrs. Brandt kissed Matthew on the cheek. “Let me put the boutonniere on you.” Mrs. Brandt pinned the boutonniere to Matthew’s lapel. “Here’s the corsage for Brea, now have a nice time.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Matthew said. Then he hurried to the limo, “Okay, squirt; time’s up.”
Jessica was in the limo working all the electrical controls. She had the sunroof opening and closing in rhythm with the divider between the driver and the passenger compartment. “Do I have to?”
“Yes, you do.”
Jessica crawled out of the limo saying, “But I’ve never been in a
limo before.”
Matthew started to correct her but decided that if she’d forgotten about riding in the limo for their father’s funeral, then that was probably for the best.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get another chance. Now go back, Mom’s waiting for you.” Matthew gave Jessica a little push back toward the house.
The limo driver had been standing next to the door, smiling the whole time. “Are you ready to go, sir?”
“Yes, do you have the address for the Winthrops?”
“I’ve got the whole itinerary mapped out, you should just relax.”
Matthew crawled into the limo and sat back. They were at the Winthrops’ in no time.
As the limo pulled into the circular driveway, Mrs. Winthrop was taking pictures with her video camera. As Matthew got out of the limo, she took a couple of stills. “Matt, I’ll send some copies to your mom. Now go inside and wait in the family room; Brea should be down in a few minutes.”
“Of course, I’m five minutes late, and I still have to wait,” Matthew whispered while he walked into the foyer of the Winthrops’ palatial home. He paused to look at the Franz Marc hanging over the fireplace of the formal living room. By the time he was ready to move on to the family room, Mrs. Winthrop had caught up with him.
“You’re tux looks very nice, you and Brea will make a beautiful couple.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m so glad that they make the Winter Ball a formal. It’s so rare that you get a chance to dress up,” Mrs. Winthrop said.
“Some of us don’t think it’s an advantage.” Jason came bounding up the stairs; he was wearing a white tuxedo with full tails and had a top hat in his hand.
“Yeah, I’d be happy with semi-formal,” Matthew said.
“Well, I think formal is better.” Brea came up the stairs, her dress swishing as she walked. It was a silver slipper satin, mid-length dress held up by two spaghetti straps. The long, diamond-crusted earrings dangled to her shoulders, drawing attention to her bare shoulders and exquisite tan.
“I guess I’ve changed my mind,” Matthew whistled at her. “You’re beautiful.”
“Why, thank you.”
Matthew took the corsage and put it on Brea’s wrist. “I’m glad I decided to go for the wrist corsage, I don’t think those straps could hold up much else.”