In the Cage

by Kevin Hardcastle

  “Hello,” he called out.

  “Who’s that?”

  Daniel went into the living room and there he saw Murray sitting in his armchair with a book in one hand and a beer in the other. Madelyn sat in the floor not two feet from the TV. She hammered on a video game controller with her nose wrinkled and her front teeth clamped to her bottom lip.

  “Where’s your better half?” Daniel said.

  “In the kitchen. Makin’ supper.”

  Daniel leaned out of the room some. Kitchen at the end of the corridor with the door pegged open, steam rising from a pot on the stove. He didn’t see Ella there. He came back.

  “That what you call being looked after?” he said to Murray. “You see the kind of face that kid is makin’?”

  Murray set the book down on the tablestand beside him. He leaned over the chair arm and looked long at the girl.

  “Looks like she’s having a religious experience,” he said.

  Daniel shook his head.

  “I hear this one got into a scrap,” the old man said.

  Madelyn turned so quick her hair flew. Murray paid her no mind.

  “She tell you all that?” Daniel said.

  “Some.”

  Daniel smiled at him funny but he didn’t say anything. He heard shuffling at the end of the hallway and stepped back to see. Sound of cupboards opened and shut. A tall woman stood with her back facing the kitchen entry, long and grey-streaked hair. Once quite black. She stirred the great pot on the stove and set a wooden spoon on the countertop near the sink. She wiped her hands on her apron and then stopped and turned around.

  “Daniel,” Ella called. “Stop talking at him and come over here.”

  He went down the hallway to meet her. When he got there she hugged him hard and kissed him on the cheek. She stood only a few inches shorter than he. She let him go and studied his face and his clothes, the all of him. He still wore a bruise on his cheek from sparring and she thumbed at it rough.

  “I heard you were back into those gyms again,” she said.

  “Just tryin’ to get back into shape,” he said. “That’s all.”

  “You sure she knows that?” Ella said.

  Daniel took a breath. Sat to the edge of the counter.

  “She’s smart as you can get,” Ella said. “She knows more than she should already about what you do.”

  He glanced down the hall. Murray and the girl could likewise be heard talking but they were still in the living room.

  “I always thought it’d be easier than with a boy,” he said.

  “You can never know what traits they’ll take on,” Ella said. “Doesn’t matter that she’s a girl.”

  “I know it.”

  The woman pulled the oven door partway down. Let it shut. She spoke to him in a hush. Hardness in her voice.

  “Between the fights and that other work, you are lucky you’re still in one piece.”

  “Yeah?” he said.

  “I know life’s not been easy, son. But I will be damned if I stand by quiet while you put that little girl at risk.”

  “I hear you, Ella,” Daniel said. “But you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The woman drew herself up tall. Stood him off awhile and then settled.

  “I just don’t want her to lose her daddy for no good reason,” she said. “To see her turn mean.”

  Daniel crossed his arms and looked off. Ella frowned at him. At a glance she often seemed no older than he, but she was at least fifteen years his senior. Up close her greyed hair gave it away, skin she’d spent under the sun, the yearlines around her eyes and mouth.

  “You know that I’m done workin’ with Clayton?” he said.

  She nodded.

  “I just hope you got out in time before anything took root.”

  “She’ll be alright,” Daniel said.

  “I’m not just talking about her.”

  Daniel took her arm gentle and kissed her by the cheek. He said thanks for their watching the girl and started to leave but Ella had him at the elbow.

  “You gonna stay and eat supper with us?” Ella said.

  Daniel stopped by the door. Thought on it some.

  “We put you out enough already,” he said.

  “Don’t be sore,” she said. “We got plenty, and I’ve seen what you feed her.”

  “It’s alright,” Daniel said.

  Ella squeezed at his bicep. Let go and went to the stove. She took up the spoon and stirred.

  “Call her in,” she said. “See if those two don’t make a run for the dinner table.”

  He stood there a minute longer and then he called.

  Daniel and Madelyn ate and stayed on another two hours. Daniel drank beer with Murray and talked to the man and Madelyn helped Ella clean up. Daniel tried to help out but Ella told him to sit and then the girl told him again. He sat down.

  “You should get off your ass once in a while,” he said to the old man.

  “It’s not like I’m against it,” Murray said. “But anythin’ I do she does again. So I just let her be.”

  “Alright.”

  Later they said goodbye from the porch. Madelyn said her thank yous and Murray put his fists up to her. She punched him in the shoulder. He’d gotten sort of drunk but wore it well enough. Hugged the girl to him. A low wind whistled past through their part-open doorway.

  “When it gets warmer we should all take a trip up north,” Murray said. “Ella got that cabin from her aunt who passed.”

  “Yeah?” Daniel said.

  “Yes,” Ella said. “It’s lovely there in the summer.”

  She leant down a little to talk to Madelyn.

  “I used to go there when I was just a girl. Younger than you are now.”

  Ella winked. Madelyn looked up at her father.

  “We’ll have to see what your mother says,” he said. “Neither of us get much in the way of holidays.”

  Ella nodded. She stood full but kept looking at the girl. Murray took a sip of his beer and set it down on the railing.

  “They got poisonous snakes up there. Fish big enough to bite a paddle in half. Frogs as big as your head.”

  Madelyn blew out hard over her lips, made a fart sound.

  “I’m not scared of any of that shit,” she said.

  Murray said he didn’t buy it. They stared each other down until she smiled.

  “We better get goin’,” Daniel said.

  “Tell Sarah hey,” Ella said.

  “Sure thing.”

  Then he took his daughter by her shoulders and trailed her down from the deck. Halfway she shook loose and hopped the last two steps to the ground.

  “Try not to drop anymore punks,” Murray called to her. “Unless they deserve it.”

  Ella backhanded him to the chest. She looked to the girl and shook her head no. The girl waved. She climbed into the truck and pulled the door shut. Wound the window down so she could better see them. Daniel dropped his own window as he pulled out, raised the one hand. The old man and woman stood there. The great house like an island in the snow and meltwater. Daniel took his hand back and turned the truck out toward the road. Madelyn leant out and waved until the top half of the house had been taken by the dark, and so the grounds beyond and before it. Until the old man and woman were but shapes.

  EIGHTEEN

  Daniel pulled into the gym mid-evening now, with the skies gone dark. There were sometimes a dozen cars in the lot and many more if a group was taught while he was there. Jasper and Jung Woo taught those classes, or they worked in the ring with up-and-coming fighters. Daniel beat the bags in the back of the gym and sometimes he came in to help green fighters get their mechanics down, their footwork, the timing of the fight as it played by round. He rolled with Jung Woo once in a while. But mainl
y he worked alone. He saw young men come and go with their lean muscle and quick feet and the confidence that came from their believing they had many years yet owed to them. Daniel drove out to the gym two or three nights a week at most. The gym built and more fighters came to train. Men who had scraps booked and needed other full-time fighters to get them ready.

  Daniel put in lonely work on those late evenings and often he was half-spent when he warmed up and stretched on the mats. Rarely did he shadowbox in front of the huge wallbound mirrors in the rear of the building. Not nearly as much as he should have. Instead he ripped the heavy bags with brutal, rudimentary hooks. His kicks were methodically set up and thrown heavy. His hips and shoulders turning over full before a slow reset. If he felt short of breath or weak-limbed, he would grunt and power through until he could barely keep the gloves up. Some of the fighters watched him work but he seemed not to notice. He rarely spoke to anyone. Jasper and Jung Woo tried to train him when they could, but he didn’t know when he’d be there or for how long and they had obligations in the ring with the active fighters. Daniel’s work was uneven and sometimes outright chaotic. But he felt the good in doing it. In hours and hours of stilted work he had his moments. Ring of sweat circling the heavy bag where he stepped light and battered the thing out of shape, dug valleys into the leather. Light sparring drills where he slipped punches like he’d been told what was coming. Grappling contests where his raw power kept his arms intact and his neck free and gave him top position over an exasperated man. Nobody would hold the Thai pads for him except for the coaches. Afterward Daniel drove home through dark country where the snow had cleared and seed-filled soil lay black and damp. Nightbirds cried out and circled above. And at the end of the road his wife and daughter sleeping. Cold beer in the kitchen. The space where he would set his head down and hope for dreamless sleep.

  NINETEEN

  Sarah corralled her daughter into the entranceway of the bank and let the door close behind them. They’d taken a week of unusual warm weather through the county and there were people in the line who’d sweat partway through their shirts and dabbed at their brows. Madelyn sat down in a chair in the waiting area and Sarah told the girl to stay put. Madelyn saluted her. Sarah muttered as she made for the teller.

  “What can I do for you today?” the teller said.

  “I have an appointment.”

  Sarah told her the name. The teller stopped and tilted her head a little. Narrowed her eyes.

  “You’re Daniel’s wife,” she said.

  Sarah just looked at her.

  “I went to high school with Dan,” the teller said. “He used to hang out with my brother. I knew him pretty good.”

  “Oh yeah?” Sarah said.

  “How’s he doin’ these days?” the teller said.

  Sarah took in the woman’s round face and dimpled cheeks. Blonde hair to the shoulder. The teller was maybe a few years younger than Daniel and a few years older than Sarah. She still had all of her curves and wore an engagement ring with a pink diamond.

  “He’s good,” Sarah said.

  “Tell him I said hey, would you?”

  Sarah left for the waiting area before the teller quit talking. The teller took a minute to figure out what happened and then she called over the next person in line and her smile came on crooked.

  She’d been sat and waiting in the banker’s office for half an hour. Madelyn still occupied the chair outside and Sarah could see the girl’s back through the glass. She was very still. Sarah watched her all the while. The loan officer came back and shut the door behind him. He set her papers down on his desk.

  “You didn’t have to come all the way down here,” he said. “When we spoke on the phone I thought we covered everything.”

  Sarah took the forms from the desk and put them in an envelope that the banker offered her.

  “I just wanted to let you have a chance to explain it in person. Seemed like the kind of thing a human being might do.”

  The man was trying that trick of looking at her forehead and pretending to look her in the eye.

  “It’s just that, with your history, we’re not in a position to take on the risk.”

  “All we’re trying to do is pay you instead of all of these other places,” Sarah said. “After what you made on the house, I figured it’s the least you could do.”

  The banker frowned.

  “I’ve been through this before with your husband,” he said.

  “Daniel.”

  “Pardon?”

  “You know him.”

  “Maybe Dan has been working there a little longer, and we see some stability there, you could try again. I can’t see the answer being no.”

  “A couple of months is a long time for some people,” she said.

  The banker started to say something but she reached out her hand and he stopped. He shook and then leaned back in his chair while Sarah put the envelope in her purse.

  “She’s growing up fast” he said, gesturing at Madelyn.

  Madelyn had company now outside the office. A boy had sat in a chair beside hers, tall and tow-headed. The girl seemed to know him well enough by how she’d turned to him. They were talking but it was muffled by the glass. Sarah stood and straightened her shirt. Took up her things. She left the banker there without another word.

  They drove into the supermarket plaza and parked on the far end of the lot. When they got out of the truck they had to cross a laneway and then walk the length of the plaza past the bordering shopfronts. Sarah asked Madelyn about her friend at the bank, and she was told that he was just some boy from school. They said little to each other after that. Sarah put the keys into her purse and turned over the contents. She found a pack of gum and went to give some to Madelyn but the girl was not there. Sarah spun and saw the girl near to a storefront window they’d passed. On the other side of the window young pups shuffled by sleepily and others pawed the glass as if they might dig through to daylight. They yapped at Madelyn and she made faces and spoke to them.

  “These dogs shouldn’t be cooped up like that,” Madelyn said.

  The girl had her hands pressed to the glass where one pup squashed its face ugly.

  “You think we’ll ever get a dog?” she said.

  “Who’d look after it?” Sarah said.

  “I can take care of a dog,” the girl said.

  “Not until we can figure out how to pay to feed it. Whenever that’ll be.”

  Sarah could see Madelyn frowning in the plateglass.

  “Dad said he’d think about it, when I asked,” Madelyn said.

  “You can ask me about it right now,” Sarah said.

  The girl did not seem to hear her.

  “You wouldn’t ask me though, would you?”

  Madelyn put her hands in her pockets, turned to look at her mother.

  “Anything you ask him for he’ll try to give you,” Sarah said. “Even if he can’t. He’ll try to give until he’s broke and starving. You understand?”

  The girl nodded. Sarah took a deep breath, brushed her hair back behind her ears.

  “We got no money now ’cause he’s not working nights. Right?” Madelyn said.

  Sarah didn’t answer.

  “I know about him. I’m not stupid,” Madelyn said.

  Sarah walked a few steps and sat on a bench opposite the storefront. Dropped her purse down to the wooden slats.

  “I know how smart you are,” Sarah said. “But, honey, I promise you that there’s still plenty you couldn’t know even if I told you or showed it to you plain.”

  “Dad never talks about his fights. I had to read about them on my own.”

  Sarah shrugged.

  “Things didn’t turn out the way he wanted to, Maddy. They don’t always.”

  “Do you think he can still fight?”

  Sarah alm
ost laughed. Caught herself. She had tired eyes and rubbed at them with her thumb and forefinger.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Will he fight again? Like, a real one?”

  Sarah chewed at her gum. She dug her keys back out of the purse, held that hand out in the air. It had begun to rain. Madelyn kept waiting on the reply.

  “If he’s so good at it I don’t get why he won’t do it,” said the girl.

  Sarah stood and gestured for Madelyn to come away from the window. The girl was slow to move but Sarah unmoored her with a look. They walked back to the truck together. Madelyn pointed to the stores in the supermarket plaza.

  “Don’t we need anything here?” she said.

  “We’ll make do,” Sarah said.

  The girl waited by the truck quiet and Sarah set about wrenching her busted door wide enough that she could get into the cab.

  TWENTY

  The cruiser came toward the house at a creep. Dust trailing in the dry, spring air. Daniel sat in a wooden chair on the lawn with three cans of beer bound by the plastic tether, the other three rings empty. He sat in cargo shorts and a T-shirt and he wore no shoes. The sun had been out and lately left and now heavy black cloud rode across the northeastern sky. Warm winds across the fields. Daniel waited. The cruiser slowed and went on again. He made out the cop’s face from far away while the cop was still squinting out at him over the steering wheel. The cruiser sidled up to the road’s edge on the far side of the driveway. The constable got out and walked the length of the gravel drive while Daniel worked another can out of the plastics.

  “Dan,” the cop said.

  “Constable Smith,” Daniel said.

  Daniel pitched the beer at him underhand. The cop caught it and looked at it. Still walking. He smirked and pitched the can back. Daniel caught it in his left hand and cracked it and drank before the foam spilled over the lip.