FEELS LIKE THE FIRST TIME

by Scott Hildreth

  “If you make a fist and make this difficult, I’ll go get that tree saw from the utility room and cut your entire fucking hand off. And whatever I cut off, I’m taking with me. Hold still, God damn it,” I said as I squeezed his wrist harder.

  I moved my left hand from his wrist to his hand. As I squeezed his palm in my hand, I opened the shears and lightly squeezed his index finger in the razor sharp jaws. Not having ever cut the tip of anyone’s index finger off either, I didn’t know what to expect. I had pruned multiple bushes, and in hindsight, the branches - regardless of girth, were always easy to snip in two. Quickly, I squeezed the handle of the shears. As soon as I began to squeeze, he jerked his hand and screamed.

  As he screamed, the tip of his finger fell into my lap. Blood immediately spurted from the stub of what was left of his finger. I covered his finger with the towel his hand was wrapped in. Simultaneously, he slobbered and sobbed loudly. As he pulled his hand to his chest and cried, I stood up.

  “God damn, I ended up getting a lot more of that fucker in the shears than I wanted to. I’m really sorry, looks like I got more than an inch of that fucker. Well, at least it was quick,” I said as I bent down and picked up what appeared to be no less than half of his finger.

  I pulled another towel from my back pocket and wrapped his finger in it. I shoved the towel wrapped finger into the front pocket of my jeans. I grabbed my hoodie from the arm of the chair and put it on.

  “Don’t want to forget this,” I smiled as I pulled it over my head.

  I grabbed the electrical tape from the tool box, and turned to face him. I held the tape in the air so he could see it.

  “Let me see that hand, I’ll tape that dish towel to it really good so you don’t make a bigger mess on this carpet. You’ve got blood, tears, and snot everywhere,” I chuckled.

  I reached down, pulled his hand away from his chest, and went around the circumference of the towel several times with electrical tape. I tossed the tape onto the couch cushion and shook my head as I watched him rocking back and forth holding his hand.

  “I think my work is done here. Get some ice on that finger and mouth. You’ll need to wrap those ribs. They’re going to hurt longer than anything else. You can Google everything, there’s great medical advice out there. And dude, I have no idea where your teeth went when I smacked you with that hammer. That happened really fast. You might have swallowed those fuckers. Now remember,” I kicked his thigh with my foot.

  With his eyes full of tears, sobbing, he looked up at me.

  I held my index finger to my lips, “Shhhhhhh. Just between you and me.”

  He stared.

  I kicked him again.

  He nodded slowly.

  I turned and walked toward the front door. As I did, I felt like I had actually accomplished something. The feeling, to me, was similar to winning a boxing match. I reached for the handle, inhaled a deep breath, and exhaled as I opened the door. I walked out onto the front porch, shut the door, and pulled the keys Kace gave me from my front pocket. I pushed the key into the lock and locked the front door.

  Safety first.

  Chapter 11

  SHANE. My father joined the military immediately following the first Gulf War, in 1993. My mother was around for a few years following his enlistment, from what my grandfather told me, but she left us not too long after he joined the military. At the time we lived in Oceanside, in southern California. I really don’t remember much of my childhood - I was shuffled around quite a bit and I suspect it all became too confusing to remember.

  When they flew the planes into the world trade center, my father was deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan. I moved to Compton and lived with my grandfather at the time of his first deployment. From his first tour until his death, he was never really around more than a month or so at a time. I lived with my grandfather until he died.

  Having someone in my life who prevented me from spending all of my time alone has always been important. I suppose it would be important to everyone, but it’s one thing which helps me feel as if I’m normal. From what I can remember of my childhood, I had always been somewhat of a loner, and never had a tremendous amount of friends. I’ve never really been shy, just slow to let people into my life. As long as I had someone to keep me company, I was satisfied. In the past, my father, grandfather, and a former girlfriend have filled the void in my life.

  I always had a tremendous amount of respect for my father. Although I rarely saw him, he devoted his time, his career, and ultimately his life for the country and what he believed in. As a tribute to him, and as a matter of respect, I wore his dog tags with me everywhere I went. They had become somewhat of a good luck charm to me. In the boxing ring they are not allowed, and I have always had my trainer or manager hold them while I fought.

  I realize I have tremendous natural talent as a boxer. I could never imagine trying to box without the dog tags accompanying me to a fight. To me, it was as if my father was there with me, looking over me, cheering me on and providing me with support. A father who was never able to be present through my childhood was now present for every match.

  Fighting without any family to support me was difficult. I relied totally on the support of my dog tags to be my family. Being without them would put me in the ring naked and without any form of protection.

  “Now listen, Shane. This guy is a beast. You’ve watched his films. You’ve seen what he can do. Watch his left cross. He’ll catch you blind. If he ever connects that thing, you’ll have one hell of a time recovering,” Kelsey stood behind me as I worked the speed bag.

  “Where we headed if we beat this guy, Shane?” he asked as he clapped his hands.

  “Big ticket, boss,” I responded without looking away from the bag.

  “That’s right, the big ticket. You’ll be on that card with the championship fight. You’ll be on god damned television. Pay television, Shane - not ESPN. You’re one fight away from being a household name,” Kelsey said as he clapped his hands.

  “You amaze me, Shane. I have never seen a boxer that is such a natural. You act like you’re eating fucking dinner or going for a walk in the park. You’ve got a heart of ice, and nerves of steel. Hell, you can hear every word I say while you’re fighting. I’ve never seen that. I’ve yelled at boxers for a lifetime, and after a round is over, they have no idea what I said,” he said as I continued to work the bag.

  “It’s your job to tell me what to do, boss. It’s mine to do it. You can see what I can’t,” I said as I hit the speed bag one last time.

  “How you feel?” he asked.

  I nodded sharply.

  “Better get out in the hallway, they’re calling you out in five,” the floor manager said through the doorway.

  “How we fighting this guy?” Kelsey asked as I sat on the bench beside him.

  “Southpaw, boss. Just like you said,” I responded.

  “That’s right. Tonight you’re a lefty. Let’s go,” he said as he laced up my gloves.

  I looked down at the floor and said my prayer. As I stood up I pounded my gloves together and tapped my dog tags with each glove.

  We stepped into the hallway and waited for the call. As soon a Jimi Hendrix, Red House began to play I started to walk toward the ring. As I approached the ring, I saw Ripp and Kace right where they said they’d be. I stopped at the edge of the ring and lowered my head. Kelsey reached toward my neck and slowly removed my dog tags.

  “Give ‘em to my girl, boss,” I said.

  He nodded.

  “Get in the ring, Shane,” Kelsey said as he nodded toward the ring.

  “Hand her the tags, boss. I need to see it,” I said.

  Kace was half sitting, half standing, and obviously excited. Ripp stood beside her, clapping and whistling. As Kelsey handed her the dog tags, she made eye contact with me.

  “Who?” I screamed her direction.

  She pointed at her chest.

  I nodded and stepped into the ring.

  I close
d my eyes and jogged in place. Blocking out everything was easy for me. I waited for them to call my name. I was ready.

  “…red corner….Mace Maaaaad Dogggg Wilsonnnnnn” the announcer said.

  “And. In the blue corner. Shane Shame on Deeeeeeekkaaaaar,” I opened my eyes and stepped to the center of the ring.

  I stared into the eyes of Wilson.

  “Listen up. 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. Protect yourselves at all times. Any questions?” the referee asked Wilson.

  Wilson shook his head.

  He turned his head to face me, “Any questions?” he asked.

  “No sir,” I responded.

  “Touch ‘em up,” he said.

  We touched gloves and headed to our corners.

  “Remember what we talked about,” Kelsey said sharply.

  I bit my mouthpiece and nodded my head.

  “This left handed son-of-a-bitch might try and lace ya, or butt ya, watch it. You know he’s dirty, Shane,” Kelsey reminded me.

  I nodded my head.

  Ding!

  As I felt Kelsey slap my back, I jumped up and headed to the center of the ring.

  Wilson met me in the center and began to circle to my left. After a few feeler punches, he started to peek-a-boo.

  You wanna play peek-a-boo, motherfucker? I’ll get those arms down.

  I connected a few punches to his elbows, forearms, and lit him up with a series of body shots.

  “Make him come to you,” I heard Kelsey scream.

  I tried a left hook, hoping for his liver. I caught an elbow, and he came back with a quick combination. His right jab caught me good, and glanced off to the left side of my face.

  I stepped back and made him come to me.

  As he stepped in and started on me, I heard Kelsey, “Stay inside and counter, kid.”

  Fucking Kelsey.

  What have I told that old prick about calling me kid?

  I threw a series of hooks and uppercuts. With my chin tucked and my head down, I noticed an opening. I have always been a master at counterpunching, and as soon as I saw it, I threw a right hook and a left uppercut. The uppercut caught the corner of his chin. He stumbled back and to his left.

  Kelsey’s screaming got louder. “Stay inside, kid. Work that motherfucker! Counter!”

  Come here you big bastard. Let me see that chin. Let me see it, just once. That’s all I need.

  I worked his body and pummeled his arms with several flurries of punches. He was attempting to tire me. Obviously he didn’t know much about me. I don’t tire. Ever. I could easily do this all night. I worked against his arms and tried to get him to open up.

  He countered with a series of jabs and a few hooks that caught my upper arms and shoulder. Although I saw the punches and felt my body move, the impact wasn’t felt. When I fight, for the most part, I go numb.

  “Left hook, kid. Get that left in there, God damnit,” Kelsey screamed.

  If that cocksucker calls me kid again…

  I felt Kelsey’s hand hitting the mat.

  We’re down to seconds.

  I pushed him off, threw a right uppercut, and barely missed his chin.

  Ding!

  I found my corner and stepped to it.

  “God damn it. You got to stay inside with this guy. You’re too quick not to stay inside and counter this big bastard. You got him with that inside work, kid. Fifteen more seconds in that round and he would have been in trouble. He holds his right elbow tight. You’ll get him with that left hook. Use it. Use it, God damn it,” Kelsey screamed.

  “Remember that guy in San Antonio last year? Tate?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “He’s fighting just like him. If he comes out in this round like he did in the last, stay inside and get him on the break. You’re a damn site quicker than he is, kid,” he bellowed.

  As the bell rang, I scowled at Kelsey for calling me kid, jumped up and headed for Wilson.

  As we met, I was immediately introduced to a series of his quick jabs. He did have fast hands, but his power was what worried me.

  I followed him close, and the peek-a-boo bullshit started again.

  You cock sucker, you trying to lure me? What have you got? What’s your plan?

  I got inside and worked his body and arms. It didn’t seem to faze him at all. I continued to work his arms, knowing sooner or later he’d either lower his arms - exposing that chin - or try and punch his way out. If he tried to punch his way out, I’d left hook his ass into next fucking week.

  I worked his right arm hard with my left hook.

  My left’s just as strong as my right you big prick. Did you like that? Hurt, didn’t it?

  I swung a left hook as hard as I could. The punch caught him right above the elbow. He winced from the impact.

  How’d that feel?

  I got him with a series of rights, and a left that caught his right elbow, shoving it into his ribs. He face contorted.

  Oh. Did that hurt ya?

  I threw two more quick lefts to his body, just below the elbow, followed up by a quick combination to his face. Instinctively, it caused him to raise his arms and try and fight his way out. As he raised his arms, I absolutely unleashed on his torso. Seven or eight quick punches to his mid-section before he got his arms down, and he looked like he’d seen a ghost.

  Didn’t know I was that fast, did ya, big boy?

  He threw a right jab and missed. I countered with a right uppercut and a left hook. The left hook caught his lower abdomen.

  He tucked his elbows and winced.

  Well, big boy, I either got a rib, or your liver’s hurtin’. Sorry, but this is gonna hurt like a mother fucker.

  I immediately stepped in and worked his body with a quick combination, followed by a left uppercut. The uppercut caught him on the right side of the face – a glancing blow. As his head turned left, his right elbow came up.

  “Body, kid. Body. Open him up, kid. Body!” I head Kelsey scream.

  Where’s that bottom rib, Wilson? Where is it? I want it. I need it.

  I went back to the body. As he lowered his arms to protect his body, I threw a few quick jabs to his face.

  Better get those arms up. Protect that ugly face of yours. Remember what happened last time? I’m too fast for ya. Get ‘em up. I want that right side. I need me a rib.

  There have been several times in my career when I felt like I could see a few seconds into the future. For those moments, I have always been grateful. I do realize I don’t really see into the future, but it sure seemed like it. In a boxing match, knowing what’s next is a huge plus. This was one of those times everything happened slowly. I felt as if I had an hour to plan the series of punches I eventually unleashed.

  As he raised his arms, Kelsey started to scream.

  “Get those ribs, kid. Body! Body! Body! His liver, God damn it, his liver! Body!” Kelsey screamed.

  His arms came up.

  Huge mistake, Wilson.

  As he raised his arms, a right hook to his left side opened up his right side. A solid left hook caught him under his ribcage perfectly. His face distorted in pain. His elbows came down, exposing his chin.

  Please Lord, forgive me for what I am about to do.

  A quick right jab glanced off of his ear, causing him to raise his head. I threw a left uppercut with every ounce of my being. The left impacted his chin solid, lifting his head sharply. He was immediately unconscious. The unnecessary right cross missed his face as he began to fall to the mat like he was dead.

  Time stood still.

  His body collapsed to the mat. I stood over him. I wanted to see his eyes.

  The referee stepped in front of me and pointed. I went to the neutral corner and paced back and forth.

  Come on, get up. Get up. Get up.

  The referee waved his arms. T
his fight was over.

  I heard Ripp scream. Shane motherfucking Dekkar.

  I waited. Get up, you big fucker. You can do it.

  I saw Kelsey out of the corner of my eye. Wilson opened his eyes and began to sit up.

  Thank you, Lord.

  I turned and faced Kelsey. He was crying. He rubbed his eyes and opened his arms.

  “We made it kid,” He said as he hugged me.

  I pulled my face away from him and smiled. He pulled my mouthpiece.

  “Stop calling me kid, you old prick,” I said.

  “Boy he underestimated you with that peek-a-boo shit, didn’t he,” Kelsey laughed.

  I nodded.

  Kace and Ripp stepped into the ring and rushed toward us.

  As Kace smiled, I remembered what she looked like without her tooth. Her now repaired teeth were perfect. I smiled in return.

  “That was exciting, I’m hungry,” she blurted as she reached into her pocket.

  I placed my gloves on each side of her shoulders and held her still. As I bent my knees and lowered my head, she placed my dog tags over my head and onto my neck. As I started to speak, I heard the announcer.

  “At 2:37 of the second, by knockout, the winner….Shane Shame on Dekkar…”

  I turned and raised my hands. I walked toward Wilson and patted him on the back.

  “Great fight, Wilson,” I said as I looked him in the eye.

  “You got hands, kid,” he said as he patted my shoulder.

  I nodded and turned toward Kace and Ripp. As I walked toward Kace, I could see she had settled down and wasn’t quite as nervous.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  She nodded, “What were you going to say?” she asked.

  I bent my knees again, lowering my face close to hers.

  “Kith me,” I chuckled.

  As our lips parted I looked at her beautiful face. I looked up at Ripp, who stood beside her with his hand on my shoulder. Kelsey stood behind Ripp, wiping tears from his eyes as he talked to Joe. I looked toward Kace again. As she looked up at me and smiled, I realized this was my family.

  And the ring was my home.

  And I smiled.