by C. A. Rene
“Ember?” My eyes fly open when I hear Tommy’s voice.
“Tommy?” I croak out, “fuck.”
My throat feels like sandpaper and all I see is a plain white ceiling. I turn my head towards the beeping and see a hospital monitor. The fuck? I groan as all the memories flood my brain. My house burning and me trying to get to my mother… My mother!
“Hey Blur, look at me.” I hear Tommy say, using the nickname I’ve had for over ten years.
I slowly turn my head to him and see his dark brown, almost black eyes wide and staring at me.
“How are you feeling?”
“Mom…” Fuck, it hurts to speak.
“Hey, it’s okay I called the nurse she’s going to come check on you.” He says, brushing some hair off my face. My brow tenses as I look at him, this is unlike Tommy, he’s never affectionate. I’d get a half hug or a hair ruffle but never tenderness.
Something was wrong.
“Water.” I say.
I need to wet my throat before I lose my fucking shit. Tommy scrambles to his feet and grabs a cup filled with ice chips.
“They said to only give you this.” He places an ice chip in my mouth.
“My mom?” I ask in a hoarse whisper. I sound like I smoked a whole carton of cigarettes.
“Just wait for the doctor, Ember.” He says sadness bleeding into his voice.
It’s bad, it’s really bad. I can feel it. I start to tremble, feeling the anger building and sliding down my limbs. My chest feels like it’s on fire as it spreads up my throat. I’m thankful as the blackness takes me again.
“When will she wake up?” I hear a woman’s voice.
“Her body has been through serious trauma and she has severe smoke inhalation. Her coming in and out of consciousness will be normal as her body is resting and healing.”
He sounds like a doctor. I wish I could fucking grill him right now.
“I can’t believe this is how I meet my niece, damn you Rebecca.” Niece? Who is this woman and why is she talking about my mother?
I hear quiet sobs and another soothing male voice. Who are they? I struggle to open my eyes but my brain is refusing. I can feel the blackness coming over me again.
I wake up once again, to the sound of beeping. My head feels clearer and my chest is a dull ache compared to the roaring heat I felt before. My throat is still dry but not hurting as much. I open my eyes and see the same ceiling as before. I turn my head to the right and I see Tommy fast asleep in the armchair with his arms and legs thrown out wide.
“Tommy…” I strain to speak. He stirs and his eyes open slowly.
“Ember?” He rubs his eyes and sits up. “Here, you must be thirsty.” He brings me a cup of water. “Drink slowly.”
The cool water feels good against my parched throat. I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing. A technique I learned over the years when I feel myself losing control. Tommy-who knows me so well-senses this. I need some fucking answers.
“Blur, you’re an animal. You can do this. You’ve taken down men twice your size. I watched you fight two men and look for more. Just breathe it out.”
“That last cage fight, the one with The Bishop, why did shit get so quiet? I could feel the tension in the room.”
“Raphael is out of jail. He showed face at that fight. You decimated his best fighter.” His grin lights up. “Like I said, an animal.”
Raphael is the Kingpin of the East Rampage, a gang that runs the Bronx with drugs, guns, and illegal ring fights. He was put away for fifteen years on trafficking, racketeering, and money laundering charges. Tommy says they were never sure who the informant was, but to rest assured Raphael would find them.
Tommy is right, I’m strong and I’m a fighter. I’ve trained for years to be this strong and the anger that feeds that strength is a constant struggle to control. That must come from the father I never knew because my mother is as sweet as pie. Couldn’t even hurt a fly.
My eyes snap open and I investigate Tommy’s face.
“My mother, tell me now.”
His face contorts into pure agony and he opens his mouth to speak, just then the door to my hospital room opens and in walks a woman who looks too much like my mother to be real.
My mouth opens and shuts as I try to figure out what to say. She saves me the time though.
“Hello Emberlise, I am your aunt Debra. I’m your mother’s sister. Younger sister, by a few years…” she’s rambling, just like my mother does when she gets nervous. “I didn’t know you existed… I didn’t know anything. I tried to find her for years. She disappeared.”
“Who the fuck…” I croak out but she cuts me off.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t start off with all that. I’m just really glad you’re okay and to have found you. Even under these circumstances.”
What circumstances? Before I can voice my question Tommy stands up.
“I gotta get home for a bit, Jason is there alone. You know how he gets.” He says, “I’ll call you tomorrow before you’re released.”
I do know, Tommy’s fifteen-year-old foster brother is a train wreck.
“Wait.” I demand, “I need you to tell me…” I am cut off again.
“It’s okay Tommy, I will take it from here.” This lady who claims to be my aunt needs to watch who she’s talking to.
Tommy nods and leans down to kiss my forehead.
“I promise I’ll call tomorrow.” Then he’s gone.
“Why are you here? Where is my mother?” I ask her, fuck she looks so familiar but foreign at the same time.
She moves slow and sits in the chair that Tommy vacated.
“I was listed as yours and your mother's next of kin.” She has tears rolling down her cheeks as she hiccups into her hand. “I didn’t even know you existed. I spent a few years after she left looking for her, but I was young. After those few years of nothing I became angry. I just stopped looking but I thought about her often. I missed her but I was so angry.”
“Where is my mother?” I demand again slowly.
“Honey, I’m so sorry. She’s not here. Oh God, I don’t even know how to do this.” She’s now sobbing into her hands.
Not here? Like not here in this hospital? Why not? Where did they send her?
“If she’s not here, where is she?” I say slowly, enunciating each word, it’s like she should be laying here and not me.
“Oh God.” She groans through her hands, “It’s not good Emberlise.”
She’s using my full name, looking distraught and avoiding my eyes.
I know.
My mother didn’t make it.
I hear a high pitch scream and realize it’s coming from me. My whole body erupts with pain and I scream out all the air in my lungs.
“I’m so sorry!” This woman says and she grabs my hand. “We will do this together. You are not alone.”
I am so alone. My mother was all I had. Now it’s just me and the darkness. I scream again as the nurse rushes in the room.
“Okay dear,” she says soothingly, “you are one strong girl.”
I watch as she injects something into my IV and my eyes instantly become heavy. Great, I’m drugged.
“No… drugs... I … hate this…. feel…”
“Just to help you sleep dear, no matter how strong you are, your body needs rest.”
Her voice fades along with the sound of my mother’s sister's sobbing. I welcome the blackness, it’s easier than reality.
The next day I am released into the custody of my Aunt Debra and Uncle Scott Williams. They are the typical cookie cutter married couple, all loving and shit, they look at me like they might’ve won the lottery.
They don’t know shit.
I am standing in a hotel bathroom staring at my reflection. My dark brown hair is hanging to my mid back, looking limp and dull. My usually warm olive skin tone is looking slightly green and my pale turquoise eyes-my mother's eyes-look back at me lifelessly. My features belong to my mother lik
e my eye colour, pert nose and full cupid bow lips but my skin tone, almond shaped eyes and beauty mark under my right eye belong to the father I’ve never met. My body feels completely worn out and it hurts to take deep breaths still. I place my hand over my left breast and feel my thundering heartbeat, fuck I’ve lost weight since being in the hospital. I’m toned and I have very little body fat but I can see I’ve lost some muscle mass.
My breasts aren’t like big ass, up to your chin pillow tits but they are more than a handful. Now my ass has always been just a little too thick for my body and by looking at it now I definitely lost weight. At 5’8" I’m a little more than average height for a female and where most girls are watching what they gain, I’m picky about what I lose.
I throw my hair up into a messy bun and splash water on my face, I need to figure out my situation with these new people. I leave the bathroom and go to sit on a chair by the window. I see a bus below deposit a group of people scattering around to their jobs or if they are like my mother their second one of the day already. There’s a hole in my chest and every time I think about her I have a hard time breathing.
Like right now.
“Hey Emberlise, in through your nose and out your mouth.” My shiny new uncle says soothingly while rubbing my back. The touch makes my skin crawl but I deal.
“Ember.” I say once I catch my breath. “You can call me Ember.”
“Ember it is.”
We are sitting in a pretty impressive suite in a pretty expensive hotel while my aunt settles my mother’s estate. How rich are these people? They’ve already decided to replace my whole wardrobe and my aunt says you can never have too many shoes. Typical rich bitch.
I just want my mother. No amount of money, shoes or clothing will ever replace her.
Tommy called today as promised. He reminded me of a few engagements I had planned before this whole mess and he also brought up a good point, where do these people live? And where will I be living? He doesn’t think it’s New York obviously because my aunt said my mother disappeared from home. So, where the fuck is ‘home’?
My aunt returns looking tired and sad, it’s not hard for me to fathom how she’s feeling. Today they concluded the formal investigation into the cause of the fire, gas leak. It was an old house and the gas lines hadn’t been inspected in years. To think we saved and worked so hard for that house and just like that, it destroyed our family. We should’ve just stayed in the ghetto.
My mother was all I had but I certainly wasn’t all she had. This woman very clearly loved her and is feeling her loss as well. I feel a familiar burn in my stomach when I think about it. I swallow down the anger. My whole childhood I was practically alone. I never blamed my mother because I knew without her having two jobs, we’d be living on the streets. And trust me, we never lived anywhere fancy. The sidewalk in front of my house was always occupied with someone sleeping in a sleeping bag. So, I knew it would be easy for us to go from a one room apartment to the sidewalk. But we very clearly had family, who-by the looks of it-could have helped us.
Breathe Ember.
“My mother decided when I was five to put me in some ballet classes at the community center. It was a free program and certainly helped a lot of the less fortunate children. I went for maybe two and a half lessons. Wasn’t my thing. It was in the middle of that third class when I came upon the gym. I looked inside the window and watched mostly grown men fighting. To me this was a dance. They looked like they were dancing.” I’m not sure why I’m telling them this, but they both look curious. So, I continue.
“So here I am five years old and I enter the gym, imagine it, I have on some thrift store pink tutu my mother found and I am standing in the middle of a room full of grown men sweating and grappling.” My aunt softly chuckles and my uncle’s eyes are full of humour.
“I tell them all that, this is the class I want to take. Most of them look at me in my tutu and outright laugh. But there was one guy, his name is Juan, he came right up to me. He bent down to my level and said, ‘if you’re serious, I expect you here every Monday, Wednesday and Saturday.’ I was so excited.” A small smile plays on my mouth, “when my mom picked me up I told her I quit ballet but I found another dance class I like. She was always exhausted, so my proclamation was only half listened to, she patted my head and said, ‘sure honey.’
“So, for the next few years that’s what I did, I trained in MMA. And I was good. Juan is an amazing teacher and he’s my coach now. He didn’t teach me like he did most of his students, obviously. I’m a girl and it’s different, I will be the first to admit that, but I have my own strengths because I am a girl. I’m fast, so fast they call me Blur.”
“What are you? A vigilante?” My uncle asks his eyebrow raised.
That’s fucking funny, he has no idea.
“No, I compete here in New York. Sometimes legally and other times not so much. But the payout is really good and it supports us so my mother only has one job instead of two or three.” My aunt gasps, her poor tender heart. I fight really hard to keep in the snort.
“You fight in rings?” She whispers.
“Or parking lots.” I shrug, “I usually win because I’m always underestimated. But there have been times I’ve lost, badly. That’s how I learned, get knocked down but make sure you get back up. Then you learn how the hell you got down in the first place, and never make that mistake again.”
“Wow.” My uncle breathes. “That’s impressive.”
“I will be honest,” my aunt says, “I don’t like it, but I’m curious to see you fight.”
“I’m glad you said that. Since I have a fight tomorrow night.”
“What?” They both ask in unison.
“Totally legal, and it will help center me and get my mind off things. Would you like to come with me to see my coach today?”
“Yes, we would.” My uncle answers looking to my aunt. “Right Debby?”
“Okay.” She says quietly.
Juan looks confused as I walk into his office with my aunt and uncle in tow.
“Ember, I didn’t expect you here today.” He says placing a hand on my shoulder. “I’m really sorry about what happened.”
“I need to fight, Juan.” He covers his face with his hands. “It’ll help.”
He knows exactly what I’m referring to and he knows it will help.
“Or you will make a mistake and get seriously injured.” He says, “who are they?”
“This is my mother's sister Debra and her husband Scott, my new guardians. I told them everything and they… ah… want to see me fight.”
His eyebrows shoot up, “Seriously?”
“Yes, so let’s go hit the mats and get some practice in before tomorrow.” I nod.
He looks like he wants to argue more, but Juan knows me better than anyone else-next to Tommy anyways-and arguing would be futile.
I am fighting a UFC prospect tomorrow. She has six inches on me and about seventy lbs heavier. I’m not worried, I’ve taken down a lot bigger. My legit fights are only against girls for obvious reasons but my illegal ones are both male and female. Sometimes gang members needing to be put in their places but Juan pretends not to know that.
Since my opponent is larger than me, Juan decided I needed to work on submission holds instead of a knockout. Little does he know I’ve knocked out larger without breaking too much of a sweat but I humour him. Plus, I love submission holds.
We practice the toe hold. This one can be extremely painful if executed correctly. By cranking the ankle and putting pressure on the foot just right you can break small joints if the opponent doesn’t tap out. So, Juan does some evasive moves while I must quickly take him down into that hold. By the tenth time he’s taken out I’m declared a pro with the toe hold, fucking right I am.
Next up, we work on the triangle choke. This one is simpler since I’m not scrambling to grab legs or feet. It’s an upper body move, which leaves the opponent strangled between their own shoulder and my arm. Since th
is woman tomorrow will be taller than me I’d have to bring her to her knees first.
We finish off with some neck cranks and armbars. I can feel my body flowing into each move like water. Therefore, at the tender age of five, I thought this was dancing. I’m a mess of sweat when we are done but Juan knows me and I’m always amped after grappling.
“Go take thirty and run it off. I want to have a chat with your aunt and uncle.”
“Yes coach.” I reply as I jog over to the treadmill.
I set the treadmill to a medium jog and watch the three of them converse through the mirror in front of me. My aunt has a permanent shocked look on her face and my uncle looks like he might be grilling Juan. I grin to myself knowing Juan is one tough SOB, if he’s being grilled I’m sure he’s giving it right back.
I finish my run at fifteen minutes and head over towards Juan. Looks like my new guardians headed outside.
“What were they saying to you?” I ask him.
“They wanted to know about your life here, Ember. I told them what I could but I didn’t lie, I also told them I suspected you were involved with some shady shit and if they can take you away from here it would be for the best.”
“What? Why the fuck would you say that Juan?” I start to feel my face heat. “Our training would stop and you wouldn’t see me anymore!”
“That breaks my heart, it really does but you deserve a better life and those people look like they can give it to you.” His eyes gather moisture. “If I had the means to give you better I would fight it. But this is your best shot.”
“I can’t believe you’re saying this.” A tear slips down my face and I angrily brush it off.
“Look around you, Ember. This place is falling apart, the children that come here have nothing and this neighbourhood is teeming with gangs. You are so far in with the East Rampage, it’s only a matter of time before something bad happens to you. Your mother would want better and God rest her soul but she worked way too much to keep tabs on you. These people can provide proper schooling because I know how smart you are and they can further your acting with their contacts.”