by Lee Quail
“Ah, fair Queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, and wife of King Robert Baratheon, you grace my portal with your presence. I humbly invite you to enter.”
“Cut it, darling. Game of Thrones doesn’t need another actor. Pour me a glass of wine. And what the hell are you wearing?”
Edward wore baggy, pleated, azure blue, wide-leg pants and a brown snap-cap that sat smug on his head, with a retro black and white striped shirt and pink braces over his shoulders.
“You don’t like the pink braces?”
“Too much, darling.”
“I have white ones.”
She helped him fit the white braces and stood back. “You are so fucking sexy in those clothes. Did I ever tell you your sense of fashion is simply genius, darling?”
Edward thought for a moment. She had never commented on his sense of fashion, he always took her silence to mean consent and never asked.
He poured Angie a glass of Rose and she settled onto the couch.
“When last did you see the ‘name that shall not be spoken’?”
“Last week. I dropped him off at his father’s gym and haven’t heard from him since.”
“Not wise, darling. I told you to pursue him like your life depends on it.”
“Tired of the pursuit. You know that.”
Disappointed, Angie shook her head. “Darling, Rawson Curisco likes it. He wants you in hot pursuit. He loves the hunt. Haven’t you fathomed him out yet?”
“Our time together was short. He’s an asshole. He either hates me or has selfish intentions.”
“You haven’t known him long. Didn’t he at least have something good to say while you were in each other’s company?”
Edward gestured with his hands around the room. “He seemed to care for the certificates and the trophies and for a moment his attitude changed and asked me to consider joining his father’s gym.”
“Which you…?”
“Refused.”
“You refused. You both are such stubborn and ungrateful bitches.”
“I’m not in his league, Angie.”
“Really? Explain.”
“He scares me.”
Angie joined Edward at the window gazing at the lake. Taking his hand, she said. “Rawson may be sexy, and he may be a boxer and he may frighten you but he’s also human.”
“It doesn’t change anything.”
“Well, maybe this will. I’ve been friends with Roberto Curisco forever. We’re about the same age. Once a month he has an open day at his gym and guess what, today’s the day. Come with me – and I won’t take no for an answer. Would you really refuse a little old lady?”
“Raw will be there and I wouldn’t know what to say to him. Maybe another time.”
Her mouth twisted and she bellowed, “No. You are coming with me because firstly, I’m a lady, and secondly, I asked you out on a date and thirdly I don’t give a damn about your fears. Time to get over them. Now go and dress up in jeans and t-shirt like a normal gay boy and let’s go.”
***
Similar to most boxing gyms with poor lighting and confined spaces, Curisco’s Gym had a small reception area, an outside patio, and two boxing studios.
Upstairs, members enjoyed a fully equipped cardio section with cycles and rowing machines, and a weightlifting section. The place buzzed with loud music and joviality.
Edward really wanted to see only one section, and within a few minutes he stood outside a boxing ring watching a couple of sparring matches.
“Angelica. Angelica. Angelica! Woman of my dreams.” An excited voice, peppered with an Italian accent came from behind as they watched two fighters sparring. Angelica turned and ran straight into the silver-haired man’s spread-eagled arms.
“Curi. It’s good to see you.” She kissed him on his cheek.
“It’s always good to see you, woman.”
“I want you to meet someone. Come,” she said, taking his hand and leading him to Edward. “Curi, this is Edward Canton, the man I told you about.”
“Yes.Yes.Yes.” He extended a hand. “She’s told me too much I think. Especially about your boxing skills.”
For a strong man, Curisco’s handshake, soft as a down pillow, conveyed two polar opposites. A strong, determined man and a man with a soft heart. He wore his silver hair off his forehead to reveal the light grey in his eyes.
“She exaggerates,” Edward said. “My boxing skills are average. Nothing like yourself, sir. The last time I boxed was three years ago.”
“I’ve known this woman since she was a kid in pointy ballet shoes. She doesn’t exaggerate. So come on, let me see what you can do. Get in the ring.”
Curisco’s invitation meant he was eager to see Edward in action. Caught off guard, Edward pointed to the clothes he wore. He wore restrictive jeans and a tight yellow tee shirt.
“You’re wearing sneakers. Take them off. Take off your shirt too.” He called one of the staff members over. “Get this guy some mittens and a helmet.” To Edward, he said, “Once you have gloves on, everything will fade into the distance.”
Raw stood in a corner of the studio watching Edward as he put on his sparring gloves and helmet.
Curisco called out. “Raw!”
“Coach!”
“Get your mittens on. Time for action.”
“Sure thing, coach.”
Edward’s gaze swept over Raw’s lean, triangular face and dimpled cheeks, hypnotic, thick lips and haunting brown eyes jacketed by a set of thick, black eyebrows. The tattooed bracelet around both biceps; all Egyptian symbols. The thighs with fine bristling dark hair. A treasure trail went down, over his six-pack into the shaved triangle of his groin. He stared wide-eyed at Raw and then at Angie who winked and punched the air while Curisco had his back turned.
“Hey, bro.” Raw extended a hand.
Edward blinked and snapped his eyes up at Raw’s pecs. He took Raw’s gloved hand and for a moment didn’t want to let go. “We meet again,” Edward said.
“In the ring, both of you!” Curisco announced, clapping his hands.
Edward stepped into the ring. They danced around, sussing each other out. Both paws up and on the defensive. In the ensuing battle, Edward wanted to beat the living hell out of Raw for his attitude and his crazy, wild sexiness. Left jab, right jab. Left hook. He even tried an uppercut to Raw’s undefended jaw. Raw anticipated the moves Edward made and retaliated before Edward threw those punches. Edward stood his ground and didn’t falter. The battle raged on and when their bodies met in a tight clinch, Raw whispered in Edward’s ear, “Come on, bring it on sap, you’ll never put me down.”
Edward tried to wriggle free. “Fuck you, Curisco. I’m not as easy as you think.”
“I thought you were done with boxing,” Raw said quickly.
“Wouldn’t miss this chance to give you the hiding you deserve.”
Suddenly, Edward had Raw on the ropes. Left jab, right hook, left, right and left hook. Raw took them all, felt no pain as he suddenly moved in on the near exhausted Raw with several heavy jabs to the solar plexus. As Raw buckled in response, Edward aimed a right hook at his face and the crack reverberated throughout the gym. Raw’s mouthpiece jettisoned across the canvass.
‘Enough!” Curisco came between them. He helped Raw up.
Raw got up and glared into Edward’s eyes. “Next time, bro.”
“Raw, get to the showers and cool off.” Edward must have thought he meant both of them: he followed.
“Not you, Edward. You come with me.”
Edward, confused for a moment, followed Curisco to his office.
“You like milk?”
“In coffee and tea, yes.”
“Pity. Milk is good for your bones. You fought well. You have control and your jabs are focussed and powerful,” he said.
“Thank you. I hear a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”
He shrugged. “Always a ‘but’. But you need to concentrate more on your speed. Come train at my gym. I think we have a lot to offer,
especially peace of mind. We’re all alike, all have the same dreams. I have a lot of influence with the Boxing League. A few wins and you’ll easily be our next heavyweight champ. You could even start here as a personal trainer. What do you say?”
“I don’t box anymore. Besides, I like my life as it is.”
“Which gym do you train at?”
“None. I used to be a member of a boxing club called Chill Punch.”
“I’ve heard about Chill. Gay boxing.”
“I didn’t know there was a difference between gay and straight boxing,” Edward said.
“Are you gay?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t look gay.”
“How do gay’s look?”
“Certainly not like you with all those tattoos, which I think is crazy but suits you.”
“Thank you, but I won’t take up your offer, I retired from boxing for a reason.”
“I can get you fights. Take you to league. Major exhibits. Tournaments. Go national. I can make you famous. Think about it. You don’t have to make a decision right away, okay?”
“I can’t promise I’ll change my mind.”
“What are you scared of, Edward?”
Edward’s brain caught up with his mouth. He clammed up, couldn’t say anything.
“You can tell me some other time. If you fear discrimination in my gym, I can promise you this, there will be no laughing or whispering and no discrimination. Out of the thirty men who train here, who knows who is gay? What they do in their bedrooms is their business, not mine.”
“You accept gay people as they are?”
Curisco ignored the question. By the looks of it, he tolerated gay; not good enough for Edward.
“You go home and think about my offer. When you’ve decided, let me know, okay?”
“Like I said, I don’t box anymore.”
“Consider my offer. It’s all I ask. Now, you go and head for the showers while I entertain our lovely Angie.”
***
The showers glowed in an eerie light from the skylights. Raw’s body glowed from the thin layer of oil he had smeared over his skin.
Edward undressed silently, careful to keep his easily tempted gaze off Raw’s body. Words were useless until one of them broke the silence.
“I waited,” Raw finally said.
“For what?”
“For you to contact me. I waited.”
“Life. You know how it is.”
“Tell me how life is, Edward?” Raw said, his voice tipping over from the sheer weight of his sarcasm.
“I do have a life, one that doesn’t involve you. Designing gardens and seeing clients. Consulting.”
“Still, I waited.”
A tense silence passed between the two like a ghost roaming in limbo.
“Anyway, you have a mean punch there, bro,” Raw said.
Edward removed his jeans and placed them on the bench. For some obscure reason he didn’t want to get fully naked in front of Raw. “It was fun,” he said.
“Feeling shy?” Raw winked.
“A little.”
“We’re all men here, you needn’t feel shy about your body. Did Curisco offer you a contract?”
“Maybe.”
“His word is as good as God’s. If he says he’ll give you something, he does, without expecting a reward. Did you tell him you’d consider like you told me?”
“What do you mean?”
“It means you let me down, and suddenly you arrive here with Angie and I’m supposed to let it go.”
“Angie asked me to come with her to the open day. I accepted.”
“Simon says and you comply, whatever I ask gets swept under the carpet.”
“If you say so.”
“Fuck man, you’re pathetic, you know that? Angie is everything, right? If she says jump, you ask how high. Right?”
“It’s not like that. I told you I don’t box anymore. I should never have come here in the first place.”
“Damned right you should have stayed away.”
“I don’t want to talk about this if it’s going to make you mad,” Edward said, heading towards the showers.
“You know what, I don’t want you here! And if you do accept any kind of deal from my dad, I’m going to make your life fucking miserable. Understand?”
Edward turned the shower’s faucet. “Break a leg. Take a wank. Whatever suits your fancy.”
“Watch me, little man. Watch and learn.”
Raw snapped up his towel and left the showers to dress in the change rooms, his entire body trembled.
Edward showered in peace. Now he knew for sure Raw hated him. He’d be a fool to join this gym. He’d not consider Curisco’s offer. He’d lose contact with Angie and continue with his life.
He dressed and headed for the gym reception area where Angie sat waiting. For a woman in her late fifties, she loved knitting and when Edward appeared and walked right past her, she hurriedly packed away her knitting needles and wool and ran after him, waving her hands frantically in the air.
In the car, an awkward silence followed, eventually Edward said, “Angie, we can’t see each other anymore.”
Angie looked out the passenger window for a few moments, a lump in her throat. “You know, darling, I’m nearly sixty. Fifty-seven to be exact. I’m a regular old faghag I am. I haven’t told you yet about my beautiful son. He’d dress up smart much like you, his language was always eloquent like yours, and he was clever like you and doting. The day he told me he was gay - I’ll never forget - it was raining, just like today. I was in the kitchen prepping dinner. I knew he’d be hungry because he worked such long hours at the jewellery shop.
“At any rate, his name was Braxton. Yes, like that Braxton guy in the gay porn movies.”
Edward giggled, “You watch gay porn?”
“Darling, all gay people and gay-friendlies should watch gay porn.”
“It’s unimaginable you’d still be watching porn.”
“I have a sex life too, you know. Now stop interrupting me. At dinner, he wouldn’t eat much and I asked him what the matter was. He said if I knew I’d freak out, and he’d completely understand and then he started crying. Of course, I knew. All mothers know. But they wait for their child to say something first, don’t they? He said he wanted me to meet someone he cares about and loves with all his heart. I was so excited and in my rambling way, I declared, ‘I’ve been waiting for this moment forever, darling. When do I meet him?’
“Braxton’s tears and chunks turned into the most amazing smile and laughter I have ever seen. It was wonderful. We hugged and hugged and I asked him so many things. I loved him with all my heart. Truly loved him.”
“You speak about him in the past tense. What happened?”
“Some hooligans got hold of him at a bar. They shot him dead in the street. The police have never found the culprits. I have to live with remorse forever, darling. I can’t stop being your friend. Please, don’t ask me to. I need you because of this void in my life and if you want out, it will hurt more than my son’s murder.”
Edward stopped the car on the side of the road. His hands trembled. Tears streamed down her cheeks and Edward brought her in for a tight hug.
“Jesus, Angie. I’m so sorry.”
She shook her head. “They’re out there somewhere and I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve killed again. Raw hates what I’m doing. I admit it, I am match making. It boils his blood. But, he can’t go on like this. He’s a bully, he’s rude and ungrateful. I want to bash his head sometimes to knock some sense into that brain of his. I know if he meets the right person, he’ll change. I’m doing it for his own good.”
“I understand. But, Angie, I’m not the right man for him. We’re streets apart. I dress funny. I fear boxing. We don’t have anything in common.”
“You’re so wrong, darling. So wrong.”
6
“Donovan?”
Donovan Bradshaw, banker. He resembled a littl
e lost church-mouse with popping eyes and a triangular chin. He sat in Curisco’s office and sipped at his cup of milk.
Coffee people ruled the world, but not his world. Curisco drank milk. He believed in the tried and tested but outdated research about milk building strong bones and healthy teeth.
“I’ve always wondered why you never drink coffee.”
“You want coffee, there’s a machine outside my office. Besides, milk is cheaper than coffee. And it’s healthy. I don’t care what those quack scientists have to say. I’m sure you haven’t come all this way to tell me only cats drink milk.”
Bradshaw took a seat opposite Curisco, opened his briefcase and brought out a few documents which he placed on his desk.
“Roberto, your financials don’t look good.”
Curisco eyed him suspiciously. “What do you mean?”
“Too many overheads. Too many staff for an operation this size. At this rate, you’re going to be out of business in thirty days. You don’t have enough money to pay the mortgage, your creditors, or your staff.”
Curisco had built his boxing gym from scratch with the money he had earned as a professional middleweight boxer. In the early years, he organized major league fights and two of his boxers each achieved WBA status. Both earned Curisco a huge purse and he piled all his resources into the club. But even WBA boxers have a shelf life. They retired from the game and Curisco turned his attention to training two-bit boxers who never achieved anything but league status. Over the years he had sold his properties overseas and locally to support the gym.
“And your only asset now is the house you’re living in. If you sell the house, you’ll have nothing within a year.”
Curisco glared. “This gym is here to stay, Bradshaw. And when I sell my house I will retire and leave all this in Raw’s hands.”
“Thirty days, Curi.”
“I can move mountains in thirty days.”
“You’re going to have to get rid of some things. Including staff, if you want to survive. I do have a way out. An anonymous buyer is prepared to give you three million for the place.”
“So you’ve already tried to sell this place behind my back.”
“You hired me to give a service and the facts. It’s what I do.”
“I know what these anonymous people do when they buy out a place like this. In a few years there won’t be a gym. There’ll be a fucking skyscraper or a parking lot.”