“Aren’t you going to bitch me out?” Mikai asked, his tears finally subsiding.
“For what?” Joe asked as the shower ran. “For falling in love?”
“For being an asshole. For ruining my career over something I should have known better than to go after in the first place.”
“Mickey, if I had a nickel for every time I made a shitty decision about love amongst other things, you and I would be living on Maui in a mansion right now. Anyway, who said you ruined your career?”
“The title fight is less than three weeks away, Joe. I am behind. I haven’t trained in weeks. I won’t be nearly what I should be.”
“Well, if you’re done drinking yourself into oblivion, we have some work to do, don’t we?” Mikai’s head shot up and he stared at Joe, his eyes shining with hope.
“Yeah?” he asked dubiously. “You think we can make up for lost time?”
“Yeah, Left Eye. You aren’t going down that easily. Get in the shower, have some coffee and we’re going out to eat. Then you’re coming home, going to bed and tomorrow we start fresh. No excuses, no more self-pity and no more goddamn booze. Take all of that anger and sorrow and put it into your fighting. Got it?”
“Yeah, Joe. Thanks. I owe you so much, man.”
“No. You owe yourself so much. Don’t throw it away.” Joe pointed at the steaming bathroom and Mikai headed in, bowing his head in gratitude. I’m glad he can’t tell I’m tweaking. He may have given up on me if he knew. I won’t disappoint him. Tomorrow, I start fresh again. No more booze. And definitely no more coke. As he stripped off the jeans he had been wearing for ten days, a small baggie of cocaine fell onto the stained bathroom tiles. Mikai picked it up and lifted the toilet lid but before he could flush it, his hand clenched into a fist around it and he instead slipped it inside the medicine cabinet. I’ll just keep this as a reminder of what I almost became, he lied to himself.
9
Chapter Nine
Mikai felt as though it was the first time he had ever been in the ring. The sights, the smells, the sounds, everything was brand new, just as if he had never before experienced the roar of the crowd. He was riding this feeling of displacement, almost as if his soul had connected with that of a warrior ancestor in an ancient arena, waiting for the lion to be let loose for the slaughter. He had fulfilled his promise to Joe, fuelling his training with the passion and pain he had held onto for Caitlyn. Somehow, he pushed her beautiful, fair face from his mind’s eye, keeping his attention strictly on the title fight. His opponent, Charlie Dane was a southpaw like Mikai which made the match not only more challenging but more interesting to the spectators. The arena had been sold out for months and scalpers were outside gouging prices on coveted tickets for hundreds of dollars. Joe was yelling his usual pep talk in Mikai’s ear but the younger man heard little of what the trainer had to say. His eyes had turned a smoky gray in his intense excitement, and he looked about the overflowing stadium, trying unsuccessfully to calm his erratic heart rate.
Suddenly his eyes rested on a petite blonde in the middle of the floor and his pulse ceased to flow. Caitlyn! But the woman looked up and when she smiled becomingly at him, Mikai’s disappointment was almost a physical blow. It was not Caitlyn. Of course it’s not. She’s off married to that douchebag now. I wonder if she’s pregnant already. I wonder if she is laughing at me. Well, she won’t be laughing after tonight. Tonight, I will show her what she missed marrying that asshole. As if a steel rod extended through his spine, Mikai threw his shoulders back and exhaled all the venom he was tasting. Tonight, my name will become a household name. Caitlyn will hear it and she will come looking for me. She’ll leave that idiot; she’ll realize she made a huge mistake. Mikai allowed himself to indulge the fantasy a while longer, ignoring the noise outside his own daydream.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Please take your seats as we get ready to rumble!” A cheer boomed through the already riled up stands and people scrambled to get the best vantage point for their pictures. Cameras flashed and cell phones were aimed at the ring as the two boxers gently danced toward the center of the ring. The announcer continued his spiel but once again, Mikai was overcome with the heady feeling that he was not there but in a primeval place. Charlie “Dancer” Dane was unexpectedly handsome for a boxer. He looked more like an underwear model in his shiny red trunks with his slight build and hairless body. His nose had not been broken yet which was odd but Mikai had a feeling that would change that night. But Mikai was not deceived by his charming, boyish look and despite his seemingly inconspicuous size, Charlie was a heavyweight in his own right. Mikai was also aware that Charlie packed an overhand right that stunned the most cynical of boxing critics.
“You’re in the big leagues now, Mickey,” Joe had told him. “This isn’t Sam Gillies. This isn’t Pauly Piper. This is like fighting yourself. You have to be aware of everything. Don’t let your guard down for a second and make sure you tap into your inner slugger. I know it’s not what comes naturally but desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“He’s not that good, Joe,” Mikai replied, rolling his eyes. He said the words more for his own benefit than Joe’s. Joe shot Mikai a look.
“I’m glad you’ve got your confidence back, Mikai, but yeah, yeah he is. That’s why he is here fighting you. You two are the best of the best. And don’t start getting cocky. He will cause you serious damage. He’s a killer by nature.” Mikai had laughed off Joe’s warning but in the pit of his stomach, he knew the trainer was right. Charlie Dane’s reputation was bloodstained. He had inadvertently killed an opponent very early on in his career. Word amongst the boxers was that Charlie Dane was a genuine psychopath and although he had a sweet smile, his instinct was to murder. Mikai was not one to pay mind to idle, jealous gossip but he did recognize a prize fighter when he saw one. In a way, he had Dancer to thank for helping him overcome the loss of Caitlyn. If Charlie had been a lesser fighter, Mikai would not have invested so much energy in his training but because he knew what he was up against, he would take every punch more seriously.
The long-winded announcer finally finished his spiel and spoke the customary words, sending blood pounding through Mikai’s veins as he touched gloves with Dancer.
“Let’s get ready to rumble!”
They assumed their stances as the bell chimed and before Mikai could return Dancer’s gaze, he was presented with a left hook to the temple. Stunned, he fell backward, more surprised than hurt but Charlie was already plunging at his exposed ribs and kidneys as Mikai staggered for balance, being taken advantage of for being caught off guard.
“Mickey! Get it together! Mickey!” Joe screamed hysterically, sounding as shocked as Mikai felt. The referee circled the pair, looking for signs of weakness in Mikai and for a terrifying second, he thought he was about to black out. That’s it? Thirty seconds and this guy got me? This is the end of the road for me? More blows followed and Mikai covered his face, taking the shots, moving his body sideways to block. Just when he was sure he could withstand no more, he caught sight of the blonde he had seen earlier in the crowd. Her mouth was curved into a terrified “O” and Mikai was brought back to the moment he had run into Caitlyn outside the washroom at Entrance. Some adrenaline infused burst of fire sprang through Mikai’s body. Caitlyn will see this. Caitlyn will know I failed. You cannot let her see you fail! She will never come back to you if you fail.
Unconsciously, Dancer had weakened his punches, probably comfortable in his victory. Mikai looked up at him, catching the almost demonic glint in his opponent’s eye but Charlie Dane did not notice Mikai sizing him up. An almost sarcastic smile formed on his lips over his mouth guard as the blows continued to flow forth. In his subliminal cockiness, Dancer did not foresee the superhuman strength which was overtaking his challenger as Mikai pulled himself to his full height. Instantaneously, he threw a check-hook and Charlie Dane fumbled, falling backward. Like an enraged lion, Mikai pounced, returning the same flurry of fists Dane had starte
d and within seconds, the ring was splayed with blood as Mikai relentlessly attacked, giving the man no room for movement. He had no idea how long it went on but suddenly he was being pulled off Dancer’s limp body. His breathing was so hard, Mikai was certain that fire was about to explode from his lungs. I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe! He heard Joe’s voice in his ear, bringing him firmly back to the ground but Mikai suddenly became aware of the intense screaming in the arena which was reaching a feverish pitch. It was pandemonium and Mikai was suffering from sensory overload. Paramedics rushed onto the floor to revive Charlie Dane and eventually he was lifted away in a stretcher.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” the announcer boomed but he could barely be heard. Mikai could hear, however. He knew exactly what the garbled voice was saying over the intercom to the nearly rioting fans. He had won the fight. He was the North American Boxing Federation title champion. He had everything he had ever wanted. You made it, Left Eye. You’ve got everything you’ve been fighting for your whole life. You’ve got everything…everything except Caitlyn.
“Wow! Wow! Wow!” Miles was like a small child, twisting and turning to see the horde of people vying for Mikai’s attention.
“I have never seen such a fight in my life! I almost threw up with excitement!” Miles was babbling, recapping every moment of the round with Charlie Dane but Mikai was barely listening.
The camera flashes outside the restaurant were blinding and security sat in front of their booth to keep adoring fans from crashing their dinner. Joe sat back, full of steak, looking sleepy and content.
“How does it feel, champ?” he asked his protégé. Mikai smiled weakly through a mouthful of mashed potatoes and nodded. He was surrounded by fame and adulation in a five-star restaurant with people who loved him. The world was his oyster. He had been training for this moment since before he knew he had been gearing up to be champion but the truth was, he felt empty. His victory had been overshadowed by several things, including the fact that he had paralyzed his opponent.
“Mikai, you can’t let what happened to Dancer ruin your mood. If that had been you, he wouldn’t have given a damn. I promise,” Miles told him as if reading his thoughts.
“Never mind that. He’s a boxer, Mickey. He knows what he’s signing on for. Plus, he’s stronger than the average person. They don’t know if he’s paralyzed for sure,” Joe told him, shooting Miles a dirty look at his lack of tact. But nothing either man said could ease Mikai’s regret. If Caitlyn really had been there cheering me on, I would have had more self-control. I wouldn’t have hurt him so badly, Mikai told himself, yet another voice in his head told him that if Caitlyn had been there, he would not have won at all. Regardless, Mikai knew what was done, was done and he could not change the outcome.
“Don’t look so down,” Joe pleaded. “This is what we have worked so hard toward. Now you can focus on the World Boxing Council!”
Mikai tried to force cheer into his smile and he nodded with more enthusiasm.
“That’s the next stop!” he agreed but he knew his heart was not in the statement. What else are you going to do? Go back to being a security guard? You weren’t even good at that. You spent more time in Caitlyn’s office than you did anywhere else. You have no job, no woman and no prospects other than boxing. Don’t forget where Joe found you a month ago. If you’re not careful, you’re gonna end up in the same place. He nodded as if affirming what he already knew but his mind went to the package of cocaine in his medicine cabinet. Yeah, you better keep fighting. He rose his wine glass and the rest of the table followed suit.
“A toast!” he declared.
“Hear hear!” Miles chanted, tapping his spoon on his drink.
“To always keeping your eye on the prize,” Mikai said. The men nodded approvingly and took a sip.
“To Mikai!” Joe toasted and a small cheer went up at the table. As Mikai took a sip of his wine his thoughts were still on Caitlyn.
It was almost two a.m. when Mikai entered the front of his low-rise building. The festivities had continued well into the night but Mikai had been smart under Joe’s watchful eye and kept his liquor consumption to a minimum. He was aching for a stiff drink and when the limo dropped him off in front of his apartment complex he hopped across the street to the twenty-four-hour liquor store to pick up some gin. He opened the bottle as he climbed the stairs and took a swig of the acrid liquid straight, cringing as it hit his stomach. Don’t overdo it, he warned himself. Remember what happened last time. You’ll end up shacked up with a bar owner named Sheila. He grimaced and grinned at the thought of what he had done but quickly shoved the thoughts from his mind as he entered the third-floor hall. What happens when you are in mourning doesn’t count, he lied to himself.
The light had burnt out on the third-floor hallway and at first, Mikai thought it was the shadows playing tricks but as he drew near, he realized that the flimsy wood door had been kicked open. Heart hammering, he stopped by the wall, flattening his body against the concrete and peered inside. The hall interior was still dark and Mikai could not make out any movement so he gently pushed his own door open and stepped carefully inside. His meagrely decorated place had been turned upside down, sofa pillows slashed, pantry items ripped from the cupboards; the drawers had all been pulled out and dumped unceremoniously onto the floor. Sighing, Mikai flipped on a lamp to get a better look around at the disaster the break-in had caused. Who the hell would want to break into this shithole? And what the hell could they possibly have taken of value? As the light flooded the small space, Mikai suddenly discovered that he was staring into the dead expression of a huge man who was sitting calmly on his sofa, pointing a gun at him. The giant’s mouth curved into a hideously ugly smile and Mikai felt the gin bottle slip from his hand and smash to the floor.
“Welcome home, Mikai. I’ve been waiting for you.”
10
Chapter Ten
After the lumbering beast left, Mikai sat for a long while in his ruined living room, thinking about his next move. He looked forlornly at the wreck of his apartment and the broken gin bottle on the floor, and made the impulsive decision to return to the liquor store across the street.
“Really dude? You finished it already?” the teenaged clerk asked in disbelief as Mikai limped back inside.
“I’m having a bad night,” Mikai muttered, throwing a twenty on the counter and leaving before the kid could ask any more questions. Once back in his living space, Mikai threw a tattered cushion back onto the sofa and popped the cap off the bottle. He did not move again until he was substantially drunk. He was in a world of trouble, trouble he didn’t even understand.
“Do you know why I’m here, Mikai?” the beast had asked. Mikai wracked his brains and immediately thought of Charlie Dane lying semi-lifeless in the ring. He sent goons after me? It’s only business! I didn’t mean to hurt him! Mikai was an anguished mess as he hung his head miserably.
“So, you do know who I am,” the man continued, smiling amiably at Mikai’s humbled expression but Mikai was not misled by his apparent mirth. He was sitting in the same room as a killer. Mikai knew that for certain.
“I didn’t mean to do it,” Mikai finally gasped. “It was business.”
The bear looked puzzled for a moment, his brow furrowed as he examined the boxer.
“What happened to your eye?” he asked suddenly. It was Mikai’s turn to be confused.
“It was – this is from the fight…”
“The fight?”
“From the boxing – who are you?” Mikai suddenly realized that the man had nothing to do with Charlie Dane.
“Oh! You’re a boxer! Nice!” The man examined his dirty fingernails nodding in approval. “We like boxers. We have a boxer friend too.”
“I thought – who are you?” Mikai demanded again. The ape looked up.
“I guess we’re not on the same page after all. I work for Alex Carlucci.” The name meant nothing to Mikai who stared blankly and waited for more information.
The beast sighed heavily as if Mikai was causing him great discomfort.
“Alex Carlucci? Who’s that?” Mikai was still at a loss and his eyes narrowed as he desperately tried to work out who this person was and what he wanted.
“What do you want from me?” he gasped in disbelief. “You have the wrong person!”
“I don’t think so, Mikai. Your name is Mikai, right?” For a moment, Mikai considered lying but he was instinctively aware that the animal knew more about him that he let on. He nodded weakly.
“Mikai Duquette? Spent December twenty-first through thirty-first in Atlantic City?” Again, Mikai nodded but this time, flashes of something began to tickle his brain but it was nothing he could pinpoint.
“You owe Mr. Carlucci money, Mikai. Twenty thousand dollars.”
“I- I don’t know Mr. Carlucci!” Mikai cried, dizzy with fear. This guy is going to kill me and I don’t even know why! “Why do I owe money? Who is Alex Carlucci?”
“You knew him well enough to take out a ten-thousand-dollar loan to play blackjack in AC,” the man reminded him. “And you had promised to repay by January fifteenth. It is now February twenty-eighth. You don’t call, you don’t write…”Mikai shrunk back, suddenly remembering the moment he had stumbled drunkenly to the kingpin’s poker table and brazenly asked for money. The details were hazy but Mikai knew what the muscle was saying was more than likely true. He had become indebted to a mob loan shark while on his bender.
“So, Mikai. When can I tell Mr. Carlucci to expect his twenty-five thousand dollars?”
“Wait! You said ten thousand!” Mikai protested.
“You borrowed ten with a promise to repay fifteen. You left town so that’s twenty and now you’re six weeks late. You owe him twenty-five thousand dollars by Wednesday or this meeting will feel like a walk in the summer rain. Capeesh?”
Eye on the Prize Page 8