by John Oakes
He took two deep breaths, trying to calm his nerves and maintain his focus.
Tagg began to twirl his sword theatrically, before he stopped it with both hands above his head, the blade parallel to the ground. He was like a goddam ninja.
Tagg moved only his legs as he crawled spider-like toward Cody and then circled with him. Sweat stung Cody's eyes. He quickly ran an arm across his forehead. In that instant, Tagg spun forward and whipped the sword viciously at Cody who barely ducked under the blow, as it whistled past his face. Instead of catching the sword's momentum, Tagg let it continue its arc from left to right across his body, over his shoulder and behind his head. He turned his wrists over and let the sword carry on in a complete circle to strike Cody's head. Cody staggered to his left. The world spun around him. He put his hand up to the spot where Tagg had hit him, just above the hairline near his temple. Cody opened his eyes, in case Tagg was bearing down on him for the kill. But Tagg was prancing around, beating his chest in celebration at the crowd.
The sick bastard really was enjoying this. Cody felt closer than ever to his inevitable loss and subsequent shame. Tagg was guiding him one step at a time toward his doom. This was how it had to be.
Or did it?
Was there no way Cody could win? Something in him, beyond all hope, still wanted that: to win, to crush his enemy.
Cody heard for the first time, a single voice out of the roar of the crowd. It was Jason. Cody didn't know what he was saying. But Cody held out a hand, and shook his head vehemently as if to prevent Jason from throwing in the towel. He wasn't made of glass. He was still standing. He had a sword, and he had that reach. But how to use it?
Cody wiped the blood on his hand on his shirt and gripped his sword, hoping the adrenaline would help clear his head.
Cody weaved and staggered forward as if he were concussed.
Tagg made a couple of small pokes at Cody, clearly looking to embarrass him before the finish. The third time, Tagg lunged right and aimed a slap with the flat of his blade at Cody's buttocks. By the time it connected, Cody was spinning. He came around and leveled a savage cut at Tagg, right in the strike zone. Cody felt the sweet thud of wood crashing into the meat and bone of Tagg's left arm. Tagg shuffled back, clutching at his arm, pain and surprise checkering his face. He tried to remove the expression of pain from his face and whipped his arm out quickly to shake off the pain.
Shit Stain had a sting.
Cody heard the roar of the crowd that time. He felt the support leaning out, giving him strength. Tagg and Cody began circling again. It felt like they'd been in there for hours, even though it had maybe been two minutes. Cody breathed and relaxed the tension in his body. He had to remain lithe and fast.
Tagg tried a couple of cuts, but they weren't as fast as before, nor were they coming from such rapidly changing angles. Still, a wounded Tagg was a deadly Tagg. Cody's ruse had worked wonderfully, but it would not work twice. So Cody tried to play Tagg's game. He stepped forward and aimed a couple chopping cuts at Tagg's face in quick succession before wheeling away out of danger. He hadn't come close to hitting him, but he'd seen Tagg working to block them.
They went back and forth like this for some time. Cody found it harder and harder to focus as the minutes passed under tension, until Tagg slipped a thrust through his guard and into his ribs. Cody staggered again, waiting for a wave of pain. It came but not in the measure he was expecting. It served to re-sharpen his focus.
Tagg didn't pause to celebrate after making contact, and closed on Cody, with several right handed cuts, favoring one-handed speed over two-handed power. One of these cuts drove Cody's block down, allowing Tagg to scrape his blunted sword tip down along the left side of Cody's face on the next downward cut.
Cody felt the bite and lurched away.
The crowd reacted in boos.
Now Cody knew better than to reach up to tend his wound. He kept his guard up and circled back toward the center of the street, now with his back toward the crowd.
Tagg wheeled around and slashed upward at Cody's head. Cody leaned to the side and threw a backhanded slash at Tagg's ribcage, catching him, but not nearly hard enough to deter him. Tagg caught his sword's upward momentum and aimed a vertical blow straight across Cody's outstretched ribcage. Cody rolled back and away, barely missed by the crushing blow.
This was deadly business now and for one fleeting moment, Cody reveled in it. He came to his feet and felt a reckless joy at the mere fact that he had lasted this long. Every moment that passed was Cody's. Every moment that passed now without Tagg's victory was Cody's victory. He backed away so he could wipe sweat away from his hands and from the pommel of his sword.
Tagg took a deep breath and started toward Cody. Tagg's left arm hung somewhat unnaturally, pulled close to his side. Cody showed him no fear, no respect as they closed on one another. Cody struck a split second before Tagg, both committed to their blows with no recourse for defense. Cody's sword scored Tagg's chest, as Tagg's glanced off the top of Cody's head. Cody welcomed the trade and immediately gave a right-handed swipe at Tagg's right wrist, intentionally missing. Tagg parried the bait into thin air.
Cody was already wheeling, his extended sword back across Tagg's body, making Tagg lean back to avoid the blow. Then Cody raised his sword in a flash and brought down a two handed cut, just as he'd seen Tagg do. Tagg blocked it, but since he only held the sword with one hand, the force of Cody's blow forced his sword downward.
Cody liked the uncertainty he saw mingled with the abject hatred in Tagg's eyes. But Cody didn't know how much longer he could waste energy on feints and psychological attacks. The time had come to roll the dice and go for something that counted.
Cody considered where Tagg was vulnerable. The most easily blocked shots were those around the head, chest and arms. And Tagg was still quick and skilled enough to block a simple attack. Cody had the best luck relying on his instincts in the counter.
They wheeled and wheeled, both economical in their strikes. Tagg jabbed out repeatedly, striking Cody a couple times in the arm and chest, terrible wounds perhaps with a real sword, but only painful inconveniences with a wooden one. And then, when Cody checked the next jab aimed at his face, Tagg swept his blade back down in an arc, slashing at Cody's left thigh, leaving behind a searing pain. Before Cody could even grunt, Tagg brought his sword around again onto Cody's forearm.
Cody's sword clattered to the ground.
A gasp erupted from the onlookers.
Before Cody could reach for it, Tagg made another lunge at his face, backing Cody up. Tagg slammed a foot down onto the sword, trapping it. Cody stepped back and felt his arm. He flexed the fingers of his right hand. Everything worked fine, but he was in terrible pain. His thigh, wrist and head were on fire.
Tagg kicked his foot backward, sending Cody's sword spinning nearly to the beginning of the Old West Main Street. Cody looked to Jason and shook his head.
"Give him his sword back!" people were shouting from the crowd.
Perhaps this was the end. Everything was moving very slowly now.
Tagg stood between him and his sword, ready to deal out a furious beating to the unarmed Cody. He was shouting for Cody to give up. It was like Cody was watching the whole scene from outside himself for a moment. Then Tagg was shouting at Jason to throw in Cody's towel.
He wasn't ready to lie down and die.
Cody had one option to win this fight.
He charged.
He moved in slow motion. Every thing else did too. He saw the realization on Tagg's face when he turned back to see Cody barreling toward him. He saw Tagg cock his sword back to greet Cody's charge. Tagg would have to make the cut count, though, as it would be the last one he would get off. Cody screamed a hideous wail, a bloodthirsty battle cry meant to intimidate his foe or make him hesitate. At the last second before Cody came into range, he ducked his head under an arm, bowed low, and plowed into Tagg, who swung wildly at the place Cody's face had been. Tagg's f
eet left the ground, and Cody slammed him into the dirt.
They skidded across the street, stopping near the crowd, in a tangle of legs and elbows. Tagg immediately tried to buck Cody off of him. But Cody held him down. Tagg tried to punch Cody in the head with his fist still holding the pommel of his sword. Then he aimed a couple of cuts at the back of Cody's legs and back. Cody weathered them, angling his body to pin down the right side of Tagg's chest, immobilizing his shoulder, and therefore taking the power out of his swings. Tagg began driving the pommel end of the sword into Cody's head and back and ribs. Cody responded by throwing short punches at Tagg's wounded upper arm, making him grunt with pain, each time he connected. Tagg threw his sword away, far enough that Cody couldn't grab it. He trapped Cody's head and left arm by gripping his hands together behind his back, making it impossible for Cody to raise up to get more power behind his punches. Cody put a hand down by his waist and pushed hard on Tagg's right knee as he tried to pull his own right leg out from between Tagg's legs.
When he did this, Tagg bucked Cody off of him, and they scrambled to their feet.
Tagg looked around to find his sword only ten feet away. Cody looked for his own sword. It lay thirty feet away. Tagg looked at Cody, deliberating how to proceed. Cody was considering tackling Tagg again, but Tagg lunged for his sword.
Cody took off toward his own.
Cody was still fifteen feet away from his sword when Tagg had picked his up and was chasing him down. Cody stretched out, sliding headfirst to grab his sword. He grabbed the wrong end, but could feel Tagg bearing down on him. Cody gripped the sword tip with all his might, threw an arm up in front of his face, turned and sat up all in one spring-like motion. Cody felt a sickening crunch as his sword pommel buried itself into Tagg's left shoulder. Tagg's sword point smacked into the ground behind Cody, missing him entirely.
The force of Tagg's crumpled, careening body spun them both over.
Cody got to his knees and threw Tagg's sword away. He wearily turned Tagg over and saw the wild and pained expression on his face. He punched Tagg hard in the mouth. And then again.
Cody looked to Tanaka, who hadn't yet thrown in the towel. So he picked Tagg up by the collar. Tagg threw a punch with his right that grazed off Cody's head. Cody punched him in the face again and again and again.
"Stop. Stop." Tagg finally said through a mouthful of blood. He threw up his right arm to protect himself instead of throwing punches. They were too far away for the crowd to hear. Cody looked to Tanaka, who resolutely refused to throw in the towel. His face bore an expression of fury and shock.
Cody grabbed Tagg by the front of his black shirt and began dragging him backward. He dragged him across the street, back to the saloon steps to where Tanaka stood.
He dropped Tagg in front of Tanaka and staggered sideways, breathless. Tagg rolled over, groaning, clutching his left shoulder, and leaking blood into the dusty street from his battered mouth and face.
Cody looked at Tanaka, expecting him to rage or rant or call him names. After a moment of glaring and seething, Tanaka feebly dropped his white towel to rest beside Tagg.
Chapter Forty-Four
All the Marbles
Cody lay motionless in a waning half-sleep, the cheers after his victory the night before still ringing in his ears. The ringing was aided perhaps by the alcohol or the loud music at the impromptu party that followed.
Cody reached up and tenderly touched the large goose egg on the right side of his noggin. The skin was broken in places, but had scabbed over in the night. Like all head wounds, it had bled like something out of a horror flick. But Cody had begged off going to the doctor, certain that his first and worst wound incurred during the fight was fairly superficial. He felt the rest of his face, moving from welt to scrape to bruise. His nose felt tender. He wasn't exactly sure when he'd been hit there, but was it's normal shape thankfully.
Lastly, he touched the place on his cheek where Kelly had kissed him before she left.
His cursory examination complete, Cody pulled himself out of bed, but not without effort and a groan of discomfort. More than rest, he needed to move around, stretch his battered limbs and clear out the cobwebs. Cody smiled and mused that this must have been what it was like for Vikings when they awoke each morning, inspecting the damage from their fights, nursing hangovers they earned from the ale stores of their enemies, and counting the plunder of the night before. Cody dressed, noting the patchwork of bruises and scrapes all over his body, and went to count his own plunder, the humble island he'd helped build with his own hands and helped protect with uncivilized, immature, beautiful violence.
He strolled from the staff quarters, out into the warm light of the morning sun, just beginning its searing, mid-summer arc across Texas. Cody saw some of the maintenance crew picking plastic cups, beer cans and other assorted litter out of bushes and off the lawns. Some of them were moving slowly and glassy eyed, like old men. He figured last night was worth their hangovers. Hopefully they felt the same way.
He found his way to the kitchen, entering through the door that said "Resort Staff Only." With no guests arriving until late that evening, the kitchens were empty, save for Cora, who was washing vegetables in the produce sink. She looked up and with brightening eyes said, "Cody! My favorite boss ever!"
Before he could protest, she asked, "Can I make you something to eat? How about something special? You like eggs Benedict? Mine's the best in the world."
"Sounds great. But I could really use a side of frozen peas."
"Oh, right!" Cora walked past Cody to the walk-in freezer and came out holding a white and yellow bag.
"Will frozen corn do the trick?"
Cody accepted the bag and draped it from ear to ear over his head.
Cody seated himself on a stepladder while Cora set to work on his breakfast.
"Awful nice of you miss."
"Well, you deserve it! You were incredible out there last night. It was like something out of a movie. A very strange movie."
Cora was so animated, it was a shame she didn't want to act in any of the performances.
"Well, thanks. It was all pretty bizarre. I was in a strange place."
"What did that guy do anyways? Did he screw your wife or something?"
"You mean you don't know?"
"Well, I heard one rumor about him being angry you fired Regina that Massage Therapist gal. But then I heard that he was supposed to buy you out of the hotel and all. Then I heard you two were fighting over some personal beef."
"The rumor mill strikes again." Cody laughed.
"So..." Cora beckoned, "gimme the straight scooby. I'll level everyone out."
"It's complicated," Cody said, getting lost in his own thoughts as he tried to untangle it all into a bite-sized explanation. "Actually, everything you said was true, except him trying to screw my wife. I ain't married."
"I know," Cora said, chiding him with a shake of her head followed by a wink. "You're the most eligible bachelor around," she said with a hint of seriousness.
"Well, lucky me."
"Don't get your hopes up big boy. I'm currently in a very wild and steamy fling with George, the love of my life."
Cody laughed out loud.
"Oww, oww. Don't do that." Cody clutched at his ribs. "Well, I wish you both the best. Why haven't I ever realized how funny you are?"
Cora just shrugged. "Probably because Chef scares people out of his kitchen. You aren't the only one who is missing out on my charms."
Cody ate his breakfast, and Cora continued her food prep for the day to come. She regaled him with tales of how she learned to cook and how she'd once been fired from a job because her height was deemed hazardous to the other kitchen staff who could "trip over her." She was seen as a liability nearly everywhere she worked, and jobs had been few and far between besides.
Cody was finishing up his delicious breakfast, when he saw the main kitchen door open. Peering around a cabinet, Cody could just make out Glen, dressed
in a subdued blue suit, walking though the maze of cleaning stations, ovens, grills, storage space and hanging pots, pans and utensils.
"Cora. We're having an emergency staff meeting in one hour. Can you meet in the dining hall then?"
"Oh," said Cora surprised. She shot a glance at Cody, still wearing the corn on his head, and then looked back to Glen. "Yes sir. No problem."
Glen looked to where Cora had glanced. Surprise registered on his face, when he saw Cody, partially obscured by all the kitchen equipment standing between them.
"Oh...Cody. Hi," Glen said, looking guilty.
"Who called this meeting Glen?" Cody took the bag of frozen corn off his head and stood up to get a better view of him across the kitchen. "What's the emergency?"
"Oh...oh...it's just, we just...it's not an emergency." Glen was turning bright red. "That was the wrong word. I mean sudden...I mean a quick, no-big-deal meeting." Glen backed out of the room awkwardly. "Just a normal run of the mill staff meeting. No emergency."
Cody thanked Cora again for breakfast and stepped back out into the sunshine. A black sedan rolled to a stop, same as a red SUV behind it. Cody didn't recognize either vehicle.
Before he could ascertain who was in them, Diego, the head groundskeeper came darting out around the main house. When he saw Cody, he stopped running and began walking nonchalantly. He approached and asked if he could show Cody something. Diego led Cody back around the main house and out near the staff quarters. He bent down and began examining a sprinkler head, saying something about water pressure and gauges.
"I trust your judgment, man. Just make a list of recommendations if we need to fix anything."
Cody's head was beginning to throb. He needed something for the pain. So he returned to his bedroom and took some ibuprofen. When he came out, he saw Diego in the hallway, hauling a set of child-sized gold clubs out of his own room. "Oh hey, Cody. Grab your clubs. Let's go hit a few balls. I need a break."