Brawler

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Brawler Page 16

by Scott Hildreth


  Either way, I loved Ethan with all my heart, and I knew nothing could change the way I felt.

  I rode the elevator up to the seventh floor and came around the corner toward the nurse’s station. Technically, I wasn’t even supposed to be in Ethan’s room, because I wasn’t family. Dekk took care of that with a few phone calls, and once again I was grateful for my makeshift family.

  “Good morning, Jaz,” the nurse said.

  “Hi, Tracey.”

  I walked down the hallway and stepped through the open door leading into Ethan’s intensive care room. The constant beeping provided reassurance that he was alive and well. I leaned over the bed and kissed his cheek.

  “Good morning, Babe.”

  I sat down in the chair, opened the crossword puzzle book, and started the day’s puzzle.

  “Ready? Four letters. Broadway dud. That’s down. And across? Three letters. Mr. Franklin.”

  I lifted the pen to the page. “Let’s go with Ben for Mr. Franklin. So, four letters down, Broadway dud, and starts with a ‘B’. We’ll go with bomb. Okay. At the end of Bomb, we’ve got a good one. The clue is implore. So, what starts with a ‘B’ and has seven letters?”

  “Beseech?” I reached over and patted his leg. “Good answer.”

  “How’s the crossword comin’?” Kelsey asked as he walked through the door.

  “Good, thank you.”

  He patted me on the shoulder. “What time you working today?”

  “In about fifty minutes. At nine. I got a morning shift, and I’ll go until after dinner, but I don’t have to close.”

  “That’s good.”

  I studied him for a moment. “Are you wearing the same clothes you were wearing yesterday?”

  “I always wear a white tee shirt.”

  “But your white tee shirt doesn’t always have ketchup on the sleeve.”

  He looked at the sleeve, shrugged, and sat down. “Haven’t been home yet.”

  “You stayed all night?”

  “Right where you’re sittin’. Somebody’s got to be here if he wakes up. Can’t decide if his folks are too busy or don’t care. Don’t matter much, I suppose, as long as someone’s here.”

  I felt terrible for Kelsey. He loved each and every one of us, but he wasn’t about to admit it. Seeing how much time and effort he put into making sure Ethan had everything he needed was proof of his love for us all.

  On the second day, Kelsey went to the store and bought socks, claiming that the socks they’d provided were too tight and might cut off circulation. Later in the day he went to the CVS store and bought lotion, stating that Ethan’s skin was drying out from the dime store bullshit the hospital provided.

  When he learned of my idea to read the crossword puzzles, he provided all the reassurance I needed to convince me it would keep Ethan alert and not allow his brain to fade away to nothing.

  “Thank you for caring,” I said.

  “So we’re passing out thanks today for bein’ human? Well thank you, too, Spaz,” he grunted.

  “You know what I mean.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t guess I do. I’m just a bored old man. What else am I gonna do?”

  “When you’re at the gym, you always stomp off and say ‘I’ve got shit to do.’ So, what? Now you’re bored?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  I folded the crossword puzzle and glared at him.

  He glared back.

  After a lengthy glare-off, I gave up. “You win.”

  “At what? Tryin’ to get a teeny bopper to mind her own business?”

  “I’m not a teeny bopper. I’m twenty-five. You know it, you were at my birthday.”

  “I’ve got boots older than you,” he said.

  “I’m sure you do.”

  “If he’s still here during the fight, we need to make sure they’ve got it playin’ in here. Remind me to ask the nurse about pay-per-view. Can’t have him in here without being able to hear it.”

  “I’ll remind you. But I think he’ll be fine by then.”

  “Just in case,” he said.

  I hadn’t really thought about it, but at some point I was going to have to leave Ethan to go to Vegas for the fight. In fact, we’d all be gone. I thought about if for a moment, and decided I didn’t like thinking about it at all, so I stopped.

  I glanced up. Kelsey was fast asleep in the chair. I looked at my watch. It was past time for me to leave, so I stood and walked toward the door. I hesitated at the threshold and turned around.

  “Kelsey,” I whispered.

  “Kelsey.”

  He didn’t budge.

  Good.

  I tip-toed up behind him, bent over, and kissed him on the head.

  We love you, old man.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Jaz

  Day ninety-nine.

  Ethan had been asleep for a little more than a week without making any measurable progress. I learned that the entire thing was nothing but a glorified waiting game, and that when it came right down to it, the doctors knew absolutely nothing useful.

  There were no additional tests. No one prodded his brain with a probe, nor did they place him back into the MRI machine. Neither a doctor or a nurse came to stretch his fingers and toes to make sure they still moved. They didn’t work his legs back and forth.

  And they only bathed him once a week.

  I hated that he had to be there, and wished I could take him home with me, but I couldn’t. They didn’t actually care about him, and realizing it bothered me.

  “We’ve got six days,” Ripp said. “Six.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you think you’re ready?”

  “As ready as I’m going to get. I’m not going to learn anything in six days, am I?”

  He shrugged. “Suppose not.”

  “I’m not going to be bigger, stronger, or faster, am I?”

  “Doubt it.”

  “So, I think I’m ready.”

  “I wish things were different with him. You know that, right?”

  “I know.”

  “Tell you the truth, I wish I would have kicked the fuckers ass like I was goin’ to,” he said. “If I would have beat his ass, Ethan would be right here, right now.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “I didn’t do it, but I could have prevented it. Next time? I’ll do what I know is right.”

  “Ethan was defending my honor. Is that wrong?”

  He shook his head. “No. But I was doing the same thing.”

  “You and me? We’re not together. So you were just…I don’t know. Just--”

  “It’s a man’s responsibility to stand up for any woman who is being mistreated, no matter who she is.”

  “You really think so?”

  He shook his head. “Know so.”

  With his forehead wrinkled and his eyes narrow, he looked angry. I suppose deep down inside, he felt no differently than I did. Thinking that there were two people who felt like me didn’t make me feel any better. I wouldn’t wish my feelings on anyone.

  I was exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally. I walked over to him and held out my gloves. He untied them, pulled them off, and tossed them on top of my bag.

  I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a hug. “I’m sorry you’re angry about all this. One of these days he’ll be fine, and we’ll all look back on it and…well…I don’t know. Maybe we’ll tell stories or something.”

  “Something,” he said. “We’ll do something.”

  “It’s the weekend. Can we quit so I can go up there?”

  He held me close for a long minute, then pushed his hands against my shoulders, causing me to lean away from him a little bit.

  He gazed down at me. “You go take care of him,” he said. “When it comes to this fight? I’ll take care of you. You’re ready, Jaz. As ready as you’re gonna get.”

  “Thank you. I just. I don’t know. I want to go give him a bath. Clean him up a little bit.”


  “Do whatever you’ve got to do,” he said.

  I thought about it for what seemed like forever, then decided to just ask. “Can I tell you anything?”

  He nodded. “Anything.”

  “Anything?”

  “What’d I just say? You can tell me anything,” he said.

  I really needed to hear it from someone. I was afraid if I didn’t I was just going to collapse and die. I prayed he would understand. I inhaled a shallow breath and sighed.

  “I love you, Ripp.”

  He grinned the cheesy Mike Ripton grin. “Shit. I love you, too, you little fucker.”

  It wasn’t what I had in mind, but there was no doubt in my mind that it was heartfelt.

  I reached for my bag. “Okay. I’m going to go see him, and then get some sleep.”

  “Tell him I said ‘hi’,” he said. “After you’re done with the bath, though.”

  I shouldered my bag and stared back at him. “Why not during?”

  “Don’t want you washin’ his pecker while you’re talking to him about me. Might confuse him.”

  I rolled my eyes and turned away. Ripp didn’t have much tact, and he lacked conventional manners, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything or anyone.

  ***

  I glared at him. “Where’s Kelsey?”

  Ethan’s father tossed his hands in the air. “I have no idea who Kelsey is, and to be honest, I don’t care.”

  “Kelsey is the one who has been up here all day and night sitting with him in case he wakes up. And I don’t think you get to make those decisions.”

  “If I don’t, who will?”

  Tears rolled down my cheeks. “You’re not God,” I blubbered.

  “Right now I’m the closest thing to God that exists,” he said.

  I wiped my cheeks on my forearm. “If you love him, you’d never even talk about doing anything like that.”

  “Who do you suppose will be stuck with the bill? When he doesn’t wake up? Not you, that’s for certain.”

  I was beyond tears. I had reached a point I was angry enough to fight, but felt I owed it to Ethan to be as civil as I was capable of. “I’ll pay it. Here in a week, I’ll be able to. So just leave. Just go. I’ll pay it.”

  “Highly unlikely,” he said. “And I’m not going to argue with you. I don’t owe you an explanation.”

  I felt worse than sick thinking that he was even considering it. I had no idea people like him even existed. “It’s been nine days. Nine. Not nine years. Not even nine months. And I don’t care how long it is, I’ll be here with him forever. You know why?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Because I love him,” I shouted.

  “Is there a problem?” Kelsey asked from behind me.

  Thank God.

  I spun around and hugged him. After sobbing into the shoulder of his shirt for several seconds, I gathered my composure. I leaned back and wiped my tears. “He’s going to have them unplug Ethan. He wants to let him die.”

  “He’s brain dead,” Ethan’s father said. “Someone has to make decisions about what’s in everyone’s best interest.”

  Kelsey stepped around me. “He ain’t brain dead, he’s recovering from an injury.” He doubled up his fists and puffed out his chest. “Now get your shit and get out of here before I drag your ass out.”

  Holy crap, Kelsey.

  Ethan’s father glared back at him. “And you are?”

  “I’m the old man you don’t want to fuck with right now. Believe me.”

  “It’s a matter of economics.”

  Kelsey stepped aside and pointed toward the door. “Economics? This is about money? You can bet your bottom god forsaken dollar that I’ve got a lot more god damned money than you do. I’ll spend every last cent keepin’ this kid alive and paying attorneys to make sure you don’t have a say in matters. Now, get out of here before I bust your fuckin’ nose.”

  Ethan’s father shook his head. “Sooner or later--”

  Kelsey raised his fists as if he was actually prepared to fight. “Sooner or later? Sooner or later I’m gonna whip your ass. Leave. Now.”

  Ethan’s father stomped out.

  I exhaled, feeling like I had inherited an entirely new set of problems. “We can’t leave him alone. His dad will--”

  Kelsey shook his head and sat down. “He won’t be alone.”

  “But--”

  “But nothing. He won’t be alone.”

  “I love him so much,” I said.

  My eyes welled with tears. The crying started all over again. “I can’t let anything happen…”

  “Nothing’s gonna happen to this kid,” Kelsey said. “Not on my watch.”

  He clenched his fist and extended his arm.

  What little doubt that remained vanished.

  And I pounded my fist into his.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Jaz

  Day one hundred three.

  I felt sick about leaving to go to Las Vegas, but I knew I had no alternative. “You promise you’ll call if anything changes?”

  Kelsey glared at me. “What’d I tell ya?”

  “Anything. I mean it.”

  “I know what anything means.”

  I hated thinking about Kelsey not being at the fight. “I wish you could go. But, I’m glad you’re going. You know what I mean. Staying here to be with him.”

  He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Listen to the dummy, Spaz. And keep twisting on the ball of that foot like your putting out a cigarette. You’ll do fine.”

  “I will,” I said. “Just like you told me.”

  I glanced at my watch. “I’ve got to go.”

  He nodded.

  I stepped to the edge of the bed, reached up, and adjusted his stocking cap. “It’s a hundred one outside, and it’s so cold in here, you’re going to end up sick. I’ll talk to them about the temperature again, don’t worry. I’ve got to go, but I’ll be back in a few days, so don’t worry. No promises, but win or lose, I’ll make you proud.”

  I leaned over and gave him a kiss. “I love you.”

  I glanced at my watch. “Shit. I’ve really got to--”

  Kelsey opened his arms. “Come here.”

  I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight. He might have been a grumpy old fucker, but he was the most awesome grumpy old fucker to ever exist.

  “Get out of here,” he said as he released me.

  “If anything changes,” I said.

  “Heard you the first ten times.”

  I looked at him, sighed, and turned away.

  I was almost to the corridor, and I heard him shout. “Hey Spaz!”

  I turned around.

  “I love ya,” he said.

  It felt good to hear him say it. I started to respond, and then paused. He stood in the center of the hallway staring back at me. I grinned and turned toward the exit.

  And, after a few steps, I raised my right hand high in the air and flipped him the bird.

  THIRTY-SIX

  Jaz

  Day one hundred five.

  I stood in the corner of the ring surrounded by 17,000 people. Coming down the aisle wasn’t at all what I expected. There was no cheering, no one slapped my hands, and there were no legions of screaming fans.

  Only Ripp and me.

  “I feel funny,” I whispered.

  “I’m gonna shit my drawers,” Ripp whispered. “And watch what you say. They’ve got them zoom in cameras and microphones everywhere.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  Shockwave came down the aisle. The entire crowd went ballistic. One day, if I continued to be a contender, I would have a following no different than she did. But my followers? Mine would be different. I wouldn’t talk shit to everyone and send out hashtag shit talk tweets on Twitter, so my fans would be classy.

  But I’d be a bitch in the ring.

  She ducked under the ropes, stepped inside the ring, and glared at me.

  I pursed my lips, glared back, and waited
.

  “Don’t forget what I told ya,” Ripp said. “Touch ‘em up when the ref tells you to, and after that, no matter how many times she offers, don’t pound gloves with her.”

  “Got it.”

  I liked Ripp’s thought process on touching gloves. He said after the initial ‘shake’, to never touch gloves again when offered. It was an intimidation tactic he said he used, and he swore it worked.

  According to him, it made his opponent fear him.

  I needed all the help I could get.

  The announcer reached for the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen…”

  “Tonight, Tactical Promotions and the MGM Grand present the WBC championship bout scheduled for ten rounds.”

  “The challenger, in the blue corner, with a career record of 135 wins and 0 losses, with 62 wins by knockout. In her professional debut, Jaz…Brawler…Briscoe!”

  I raised my gloves and turned in a circle.

  A handful of people, Dekk included, cheered.

  I felt small. Microscopic, to be honest. But I wasn’t intimidated. Not at all.

  “And, in the red corner, the champion…”

  The crowd went wild. As they screamed and cheered, he continued. “With a professional record of…”

  “I hate this girl,” I whispered. “Hashtag Shockwave. Seriously? Hashtags are stupid.”

  “You ain’t the only one. She’s so fuckin’ full of herself…”

  “Shay…Shockwave…Simpson…”

  The crowd went wild.

  Again.

  The referee called us to the center. Ripp and I went together. She stood with her trainer and manager. She glared at me. I glared back.

  “I gave you your instructions in the dressing rooms. Obey my commands at all times. When I say break, I want a clean break. In the event of a knock down, I’ll direct you to a neutral corner. I want a clean fight. No low blow, and I will call them. Understood?”

  He looked at her. She nodded.

  He looked at me.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Protect yourselves at all times. Any questions?”

  He looked at her. She shook her head.

  He looked at me.

  “No, Sir”

 

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