The Housekeeper: Love, Death, and Prizefighting

by Josh Samman

  Isabel and I hadn’t talked about it yet, but considering the circumstances it would’ve been hard for anyone to argue that we were in it for anything other than the long haul. Until then, we’d remain guests at the wedding.

  That’s where we were, at her cousin’s wedding. We sat next to her oldest brother Landon, and his wife, Savannah. They’d been together since I met Isabel, and their story mirrored that of my stepmom’s sister that I’d grown up with visiting Mississippi as a kid. Like Aunt Charlotte and Uncle David, Landon and Savannah had been high school sweethearts, and the way Isabel told the story, they didn’t know what it was like to be with another lover. Savannah favored Aunt Charlotte, an assertive personality with southern belle beauty. She was pregnant, and due any day now.

  Savannah had been around since Isabel was small, and helped raise her, alternating between motherly and sisterly roles. Isabel said that she was the only girl who didn’t care about being nice to her to get closer to her brothers. Her relationship was one of the few that suffered most when Isabel began getting in trouble, and she was excited to have Savannah take an interest in her life again.

  Being a part of a big family was something that fascinated me, deep rooted into my childhood days. Isabel teased me the whole morning about being nervous to meet everyone, though I knew it was important to her too. I hadn’t met most of them yet and didn’t realize until I got there that it wasn’t even her dad’s side of the family. Her mom’s side was just as large.

  I could tell many were curious to see who it was Isabel had been driving back and forth across the state to see. Her cousin’s groom, Jason, was a huge MMA fan and was beside himself that a cast member of TUF 17 was at his wedding. His enthusiasm spilled over into the rest of the folks, and their welcome was warm.

  We had another trip planned, back to Vegas, and to California for her first time. Matt had tried out for Season 18 of The Ultimate Fighter and had been chosen, with the help of calls to a few friends I still had at the show.

  “That’s so cool that he’s following in your footsteps. Everyone in Tallahassee is going to love that.” Isabel was excited when she got the news that we’d be going to watch him fight. She and I were his guests, along with Mitchell.

  “He’s gotta win first,” I reminded her.

  One of my local sponsors, Lance, had helped with the tickets to Vegas, and we were going to eat dinner at him and his wife Connie’s house after the wedding. Lance was an old timer who owned a successful plumbing company, and had been largely responsible for helping bring MMA to Tallahassee. He lived outside of town, with a huge plot of land; deer and wildlife running free in the backyard. We got there, and Isabel lit up.

  “This is what I want,” she said, squeezing my arm. She was seduced by the idea of creating what Lance and Connie had, raising a family in the woods. Connie was an ultimate housewife; cooking, cleaning, gardening, raising their granddaughter. She made her feel at home while Isabel took notes and stole recipes. Stuffed mushrooms were the appetizer that night.

  Lance and I caught up while the ladies played in the kitchen. “Man, what you doin’ bringin’ sand to the beach anyway?” he joked, about me taking Isabel everywhere in Vegas and Miami. She was in on the joke. “Sandy” was his nickname for her. It reminded her of her evil stepmom from early in life, with the house cleaning business. It reminded me of that stupid hurricane that left everyone at home while Veronica and I were stuck on the bed, filming the first scene of TUF. We laughed about it over dinner and went home to get ready for an early flight.

  “Can we go play in the mountains?” she asked, looking down and pointing as we flew over the rocky Nevada landscape. Some of Isabel’s fondest memories she talked about were being at her Aunt Jo’s mountain house in North Carolina. She was anxious to explore the different terrain of the west.

  It would be the first thing we did the next day, something the boys and I had promised ourselves we were going to do almost a year ago; get to the top of Red Rock. Bubba and Gilbert from my season were going to Vegas to watch some of their friends fight as well, so they met us there.

  Isabel was athletic, but I wasn’t sure how difficult it got towards the top because we’d not been allowed to get that high last time. We neared the peak and the difficulty increased, enough that I was willing to forego the summit. She sweat through her garnet and gold Combat Night shirt. “Reppin’,” she called it.

  “Shut up, keep going,” she said, huffing and puffing when I asked her if she wanted to continue. Gilbert had tried to quit and turn around several times. Isabel made fun of him to our amusement, a 5’ girl calling a giant black guy a sissy.

  We got to the top. “I told you I could do it,” she said with a triumphant look on her face. I felt silly for thinking otherwise. The grand prize for our efforts was revealed; a view of the vast mountains and valleys beneath us, red like the name of the park, with the whole city of Las Vegas in the horizon.

  I thought about what Chris had said earlier in the week, about him and everyone else who knew us from years ago, and watched as an outsider as these things materialized. It wasn’t like I’d been waiting on Isabel to come back the whole time. I was just looking for someone who compared, and it never ended up happening.

  After years of thinking I’d grow to be old and alone, I was no longer afraid. I finally had someone who opened doors for me, who kicked through them with full force. On top of that mountain, I held a celestial being, one who ripped open my jugular of passion, who could paralyze me with a touch. I had a woman with the youth and beauty of a 22 year-old, and the wisdom of one twice her age. I had someone who’d seen many of my struggles from the beginning, and vice versa. I had someone who’d been through similar life situations, in the same hometown even. I had someone who knew what it was like to battle demons, to know pain and struggle. I had someone who’d seen the light and the dark, peeking highs of shining moments, and staggering lows to the depths that few understood, with all her own layers of intricate complexity.

  We sat there for hours. The rest of the group had trekked down long ago while Isabel and I stayed up. It was symbolic, being there at the top of this mountain with her, looking down on the mecca of the MMA world in Las Vegas. I felt like I’d conquered the world. Even with her sickness and difficulty ahead, I couldn’t have been happier, and it was having her next to me that was my proudest achievement. I was no longer without a deity. She was God to me, and I was just an Earthling that had finally reached my Zion, my Valhalla, complete and total bliss.

  There was something that felt so right about the whole thing. Much like the moment we had last time we were in Vegas, I felt triumphant at last. I’d done everything I set out to do. I envisioned a life traveling the world, winning fights in front of millions, the girl of my dreams on my arm. In my mind, we had nothing but fairy tale endings in front of us.

  68.

  Early Summer, 2008

  I don’t know if you’re good for me.

  Izzie said “good,” but I knew it meant “good enough.” She’d woken up that day and decided she wanted to ruin me. I’d developed Atelophobia, and she set her sights on it.

  When I look back, I see this as the moment it all changed. The novelty of being a bad boy had worn out. The whole thing was a brutal crash course in the importance of character.

  You try too hard. I’d never had a girl tell me that. We had chemistry, but the connection wasn’t enough. I wanted more. Of all the things that had rocked me, nothing had the force of this 18 year-old girl.

  You teach people how to treat you. Telling a girl “I’m yours” wasn’t the smartest courtship tactic. She’d begun to use me for attention, or to make jealous whatever high school fling she liked at the time. I realized she wasn’t mine the way I was hers.

  You just like me because I’m a challenge. Maybe there was an element of conquest that did beckon me. If I was being honest, she was the most challenging thing I’d ever embarked on. People asked what was going on with us.

  Sh
e’ll come around. It wasn't just wishful thinking. I believed it.

  Stop telling people that. Maybe she would, but it wouldn’t be any time soon.

  What is it you expect from me? I didn’t know what I expected, but I knew I wasn’t getting it. Izzi never gave me a title in the sense that I wanted. I’d become just a guilty pleasure.

  I can't even sleep over without someone coming to drag me out of bed. I was public enemy number one. I’d been selling weed for years, and had nothing to show for it but an old hot tub and a lousy reputation. Bad things I’d done lent credence to worse rumors.

  Do you take steroids?

  Really, that’s what you think? You too?

  Sometimes I wonder. She was laying it all bare, questioning me on all the nasty things anyone had ever accused me of.

  Have you ever given me something without me knowing?

  It was the most hurtful thing she’d ever asked. I’d done deplorable things in my life, but never in a million years would I have done something like that. We lashed back at each other, hard.

  Really? You drug yourself just fine.

  Fuck you. She was stabbing a knife in me. Do you think you're a good person? Her tone was so hurtful, the only time she’d ever talked to me like that.

  Are you someone you would want your sister with? She said harsh things to get the point across, and succeeded.

  I was so embarrassed. It all felt so public, my inadequacies on full display. I wasn’t good enough, and a simple solution to not being good enough was to get better, to do better, to be better.

  Most my life I’d felt like the villain, and I was tired of that. I wanted to change a lot of things about myself, to retire the red lightsaber.

  She’d call later to try to apologize, but the damage had been done. It would be years before I ever forgave her. She never realized what a life changing moment it was for me. The impact was profound. Izzi made me want to become better at everything because I needed the approval of her, and her brothers, and I didn’t have it. I’d never wanted anything so badly in my life. I never wanted to feel like that again.

  I’ll show them. My existence became a game of it, trying to shed the image I’d solidified over 20 years. It wasn’t one that would go easily, but the seed had been planted.

  69.

  “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.”

  -Eden Ahbez

  “So what are you doing with this guy?” Gilbert joked the next morning over breakfast.

  “It’s a long story,” she said, looking at me. Long story was right.

  “You guys sure have some loud PDA,” he said as he chewed. I realized how close we were sitting to each other, hands intertwined under the breakfast table. If she didn’t match my physicality, she was close. She was always in pictures with friends and family clutching loved ones tightly.

  Matt’s fight wasn’t until the following afternoon, and I’d rented us a car to drive to Los Angeles to see my friend Gerard, the producer from TUF. The drive was only four hours and was one of the more scenic routes I’d seen. Anything was better than driving on flat, boring I-75 in Florida.

  I drove for an hour or so before asking Isabel if she’d take over. I had put our destination into my phone’s GPS, and she used it as I dozed off in the passenger seat. When I woke up, we were in LA.

  “Why didn’t you wake me? You didn’t have to drive this whole time.”

  “I didn’t mind it, actually. It’s beautiful out here. Can we go on more trips like this?”

  I’d forgotten how enchanting everything so far from home could be. To her, I was helping show her the world, but to me I was showing her to the world. She was the prize, the treasure, the beauty of this whole experience. I loved taking her on trips with me. It was my way of saying Look, look at this glorious life partner I’ve found. Look at how I’ve won the soulmate jackpot. I didn’t tell her any of that, I simply replied, “Yes. As many trips as you want.”

  We got to Gerard’s and proceeded with introductions, as he and his wife had never met Isabel. We left his house and headed to Venice Beach, one of my favorite places to be a tourist. It was a place I knew she’d appreciate. The streets were lined with performers and artists. Isabel spent the whole time walking the boardwalk with a look of awe on her face, unable for even a moment to stop taking pictures, picking up and putting down all the souvenirs of every stand she passed. Her enthusiasm and wonder were captivating. It held the same magic for her as it had for me years ago. She found a street vendor with an assortment of handmade jewelry, looking the table over until she found one that spotted her eye.

  “Will you buy this for me, please?” It was a leather-strapped bracelet with a silver charm in the shape of a tree. “It reminds me of the one from The Fountain.” Her mom had given her a similar charm when she was a child, she said, and the tree had symbolic meanings for her. She was always drawing them, trees and feathers. She never asked me to pay for anything, but wanted this to come from me.

  I bought it, and she immediately put it on the wrist that bore her one and only tattoo, Believe. Coincidentally, Believe was the shared mantra of Evan Tanner, the man whom Gerard had made his documentary about. I told her about it and promised her we would watch it when we got home.

  One performer we passed was singing Nat King Cole’s “L‑O-V-E.” Isabel squeezed my hand three times to get my attention, her code for saying I love you if she thought maybe the situation wasn’t appropriate to say out loud. I smiled and squeezed back, knowing it was the song that she was getting my attention for.

  We had to get back to Vegas for Matt’s fight, and we left early the next morning. I made sure to stay awake the whole drive this time. We met Mitchell back at the hotel and transported to the UFC training center that I’d become so familiar with.

  It was a wild experience being on the outside looking in, taking Isabel to the same building that my dreams were made and broken in. It was the first time I’d been back, and I felt all the memories of my experiences rush in as we got to the large warehouse. I was able to talk with Matt for a moment before Mitchell, Isabel, and I all took our seats next to the cage.

  Matt was fighting some schmuck from the midwest. The fight started well, with Matt winning the first stanza, and looking like he was well on his way to winning one more round to make his own dreams come true.

  Then something happened. He began to crumble. Mitchell and I were taking turns screaming instructions at him, and he just stopped listening. By the middle of the second round, he was going for sloppy takedowns. His attempts were getting stuffed, and he was getting punished for it. By the end of the third, he had all but guaranteed his loss. The judges saw it as we did, with him walking out of the cage, dreams left behind him. I couldn’t find the words to console him. I was frustrated.

  The most important fight a fighter at that level could have was the one to get in the house. That was the one that determined whether he would join the TUF alumni, whether or not he would be broadcast out to fans and viewers of millions for 13 weeks. Mitchell and Isabel were just as disappointed as I was.

  After the fights, they let Matt go, and we all went back to the hotel. I got to see the other side of the spectrum from the one I’d been on, the night of TUF entry fights. It had taken me several tryouts to get there, but when I did, I’d at least won my first fight to get on the show. I didn’t know what it was like to have gotten so close, and have it slip through my hands.

  It was a sad sight, those that came up short all at an Irish pub, drinking their pains away. Neither Isabel nor I were comfortable with the mood and weren’t interested in staying long. To make things worse, Landon and Savannah had delivered their son while we were gone. Isabel had wanted badly to be there for it, and it troubled her when she missed it. We said our goodbyes to Matt, who was having a hard time accepting the loss. We went back up to the room and got ready to return home in the morning.

  70.

  Summer, 2008

&nbs
p; It wasn’t just run-of-the-mill teenage rejection. Izzi’s slap in the face made me want to change in a way I never had before. I felt insufficient, and it had a huge effect on my psyche.

  Getting my feelings badly hurt was a good way to make me strive to do great things. It may not have been about her brothers at all. That may have been a defense mechanism for a shaken ego. Either way, I’d been a menace most my life before I met Izzi, and I wanted to be anything but after.

  I learned what my dad had tried to teach me for years, that reputation was important, and quality of life depends on self-image, which is often influenced by people’s perceptions. No matter how I tried, I couldn't go through life not caring what others thought of me.

  I had so much anger, and used my bitterness as motivation. I wasn't doing it to get her back. I did it because I didn’t ever want to fall in love with someone again and have to deal with having a toxic social status.

  We were headed towards separate paths. Despite her best efforts, she was going towards more darkness. I was en route to something brighter, in a vehicle gassed by fumes of failure.

  I wanted to distance myself as much as I could from the person I was, and a way to help do that was all new everything. I moved out of the house I was in, into a small house by myself where I was free of distractions. I proved I could make a living not selling weed, as I stumbled through odd jobs and security gigs at bars down by the beach. I got a stint bartending, and training people at the Gold’s Gym I worked out at. Being a personal trainer was gratifying, knowing I was helping folks improve their lives by getting healthier. It was the first thing I’d felt good about in a while.

  A new house and job weren’t enough. I tried to find a new girlfriend, and hooked up with chicks from the gym and clubs I worked at. Tallahassee was a revolving door of sorority girls. Part of the new me meant trying to be good to women, and I did my best.