This man Lewis called me on the twenty fifth asking if i would fight for him. The bedside phone rang well after midnight, and not so groggy with sleep, i listened to him go on on and about needing me, really needing me. Another man would have found it strange, being needed by another, but this was Lewis and he was always in need. He spoke as if i was still good. I was good when i was lean and moved nicely in the ring. I just wasn’t anymore. People change, believe it, but it was not promptly that i gave up on the way of the fighter. I had kept at it a while, protecting it like i only knew how, and it wasn’t sloth that upended my plain ambition, but rather the slow pointlessness of it all. Now i was a common man with a common body, knowing just how the body pensioned its fat, from this coming the love handles and a little more i will leave to your imagination.
“The purse is ten large,” Lewis said. His voice was clear. There was so interference.
If i still knew him then he was calling me from his home office. He lived in Trinity, a suburb just outside Modesto, and there’s always a surety there that is essential if nothing more. The manicured lawns justified the goodness of that place, and not that Lewis was oblivious to what was always said. It was said he and the others who lived there had, in doing so, escaped one struggle and replaced it with another. Only they knew.
Ten grand wasn’t pocket change. It was a sum of possibilities. Numbers harbour their own credence and wishing is too frugal in that in no way could one just snap their fingers and have this amount in their pockets. For a year now i had been toiling down at the shipyard and i guess a way had been found to keep us around, placating us with that term working man and some of us, me included, believed there wasn’t much wrong with it just as we believed there would be no sudden taking to the idea that we were multifaceted. In expressing the fact that we lacked most of the time, we spoke it with such casualness, letting it come out as, “Man, i wish i had 100 dollars right now. What I’d do with that.” Laugter. Jokes.
Now, the day had been long and the shiftiness of my dreams didn’t disqualify my mind as a part of the tiredness. Even if a man dreams of an endless fall, screaming silently as it happens, getting woken up by the ringing of the telephone is so far from a reprieve. I was sleeping, i was dreaming, now i was awake. A number was mentioned and it needed my full focus . It had been a while since i shared this bed with another body. There was enough room for eccentricity. I sat with my naked back againt the cool wall and with my legs splayed under the sheet.
“So, the ten grand’s for the winner?” I asked
“Yes. And just for your knowing, i fought for it. They wanted something lower.”
Lewis was always a heavy breather. I could hear him taking in the air and letting it out. It sounded like a whir, a very close whir.
“Who is they?” I asked, shifting the phone from one ear to the other.
“Christ Danny!”
“No! No! Is Casadei a part of this?” I asked. “You know I never liked that prick!”
“Who gives a shit about your feelings Danny? I’m calling about a fight, not asking you to suck the guy’s cock. And no, he’s not involed.” Lewis said impatiently. I was relieved when he said this. I never liked Casadei, and my relief, already perceived by Lewis, made him speak with more freedom.
“You good for it Danny?”
Now it is the hearing of such words that make the truth bob up in the mind like an apple in a barrel. Granted, my now life was sedentary and the implication of this was a predictability not at all layered and nothing more. And i had ambled myself into it, this life. I mean such things come slow, but i was never really far from another truth. See, there was always a knack to me and it wasn’t that i could make love, play the bagpipes, meld metal into pretty shapes… It was that i could fight. I knew i still had it.
“How many of your guys now got the record i got?” I asked proudly. This record, it was 15-2. This is what it was and Lewis knew it also.
“Come on Danny. The four years away must have done something to you. People change,” Lewis answered. From his end came the faint sound of snoring. He wasn’t in his home office after all. Even he had his compromises. Imagine sharing a bed with a snorer. I got off my own bed taking the phone with me. It was night and it was quiet. I slept with the blinds open. Looking out i saw many lights. I saw even the green light that lit up the bodega just down the street. I liked green; it was a good colour to like.
“What are you calling me for then?”
“Don’t get hot. We both know i got more to lose here than you do. I need to know if you are good for it.”
Even after all the years i still believed Lewis to be in fine fettle. Surely his mind hadn’t waned and this very question had to be emerging from the conscripts of his curiosity. I understood it this way. For however long it had been, my solemn duty then was to throw punches and it was down to luck coming out in one piece, and the intention afterwards wasn’t to wax chatty about it. This that i had become now still recalled how it was throwing a fisted hand towards another and on a whim, i could do it. I really could. I am saying i was good for it.
“Look just get me in there and I’ll show you,” I said rather confidently. I moved from the window. I sat on the bed again. “Look, Danny, i don’t care what you do. Hit the wall if you have to, lift your couch, whatever. Be ready. Two weeks ain’t a long time. I want that kid to know we are serious people. And please lay off the broads. For two weeks only Danny. God damn!”
“What’s the matter, Lewis? What you Goddamning for?”
“Nothing.”
“You sure?”
“Drop it.”
I dropped it.
“So, who’s this kid you got for me anyway?” I asked.
“Just some kid who thinks he’s got it. Haven’t even met him yet and i don’t care to. Screw him, he’s 20. What’s 20? Nothing. Someone will bring him in for you. Do your thing.” I liked hearing Lewis speak like this. It was a beautiful way to speak. Four years we hadn’t known each other yet he had found me. In as much as he had flunked on talent, Ben Lewis had acumen. I hadn’t forgotten who he was. They had a word for it. What is it they say? Rounded? You bet.
“You know what, Ben?”
“What?”
“I’m not even gonna ask how you got my number. What happened between us happened. I know you need me for this, don’t you Lewis?”
“I could have found you in a bowl of rice, Danny,” he said.
“Nicely said. But thing is, I’ll only be yours if i get a thousand up front,” I said.
“You thieving son of…” I hang up just as Lewis started to say. He needed me. He would find me again. I put the phone on the floor and with my heel pushed it under the bed.
Maybe Lewis had interpreted this conversation as a welcoming.There is never a dead end with this sort of thing just as men are plenty. I was never his favourite but was always within touching distance, and that time, having come down to Lincoln to fight, i passed Parrish, making my way down the stairs, talking to a paisano but i didn’t know it was him. He had on those hooded sweatshirts that hid his face but the paisano i knew by his slicked hair. Parrish was a welterweight come from the professional scene and for this fight he had spent time down at the Hodges farm skipping rope, riding horses and punching sand filled bags. Word always got out. I wasn’t too special. I sparred with trainers at the Fairbanks gym avoiding the weights until the last week. Unlike me, Parrish had made it to the papers plenty with his last loss being to some Negro with a Spanish name. Armando. It was and anyone curious to know why Parrish was fixing to try the underground scene found it was for the money, and it was. This or professional, there wasn’t much difference, you just went on the faith that you could do the other guy. Lick him. Lewis’ word to me had been to take out that desperate celt. He had come to the back while i was getting taped up and said it for everyone to hear. It was just me and the two guys for my corner.
The understanding here was that if i won, forty percent of the money would be my cut. We, Parrish and i, were fighting for something shy of sixty grand and if your calculations are right, this sum would make me happy. I was never eager to push against the notion that Lewis did the heavy lifting. There was a hierachy, you see, and the people you had to really please were the cops. Every once in a while they were known to show up, shut shit down, throw people in jail. As they taped Parrish up, he would suddenly get up and pace about the room. I can’t tell you how his guys felt about this but i got the feeling it annoyed them. He’d brought just enough people. The thing about a professional like him was that he’d made it. An amateur like me was still trying and i’ll tell you i knew people who had tried their way into pills and booze and quickly went off the rails. It was all so predictable with them. Myself i had tried speed once and only once i did. For this fight with Parrish i had pot in my system acquired from some punk dealer but who was to know. Not much went into these kind of fights. Only the weigh-ins and Parrish had a couple pounds on me. He was alright. He’d had been fronted as a prospect for something and in the ring he fought very carefully at the start, becoming a tad careless as the rounds went by with his biggest flaw being taking too many body shots. I saw the tapes. When it was time, i got to the makeshift ring after he did, touched gloves, got knocked out clean in the second round. Afterwards, it was that sleeze Casadei, on the explicit orders of Lewis, who sicced his men on me in the back and they tore a lip, bruised some ribs, the last to land a shot standing over me breathing very hard. This was how Lewis had chosen to forget me. I did not see this coming. And word soon got out that i was damaged goods. No one wanted me anymore, not even for the throw aways
And now that i was certain he would reach out again, he did not pretend his patience. He waited a week before calling and it was to tell me to meet him at Connie’s, a small diner on the expressway content with itself as such things are and always just right for the low class fare. It was hot where i was, it was hot everywhere and seeking to be simple with my comfort, i threw on a sleeveless AC/DC top, stepped into my knockoff Empirio jeans and jumped into the Bronco. All driving is honourble as long as you keep your head while at it. Connie’s was over yonder and it was us men who’d worked to dignify it’s name, so coming to it, you came with a humility that was on the verge of formality. Driving, i passed a silver Porsche. The driver was a pretty blonde with a cigarette between her lips. Delusions of grandeur maybe but who could blame her. She was in a Porsche. Looking at her, you got the feeling you could give it to her but only if she let you. She was a looker. I drove on a while, made a turn, parked in the shade made by the diner and walked in. Lewis was an easy spot. In his white suit, he looked straight out of the pictures but even he must have known he lacked the pessimism of stars, and granted, someone like Bogart had a lot on him, even that women broke his (Bogart’s) heart sometimes without meaning to.
Connie’s was a swell place. I spotted Lewis first then the couple at the table opposite his. How it was here was that you sat at a table with a checkered spread, or, not seeking to partake in the presumed sentimentality the tables brokered, you sat on any of the stools running the length of the counter. Connie’s was a swell place but just about empty. I moved to Lewis’ table, pulled back a chair and sat in it. His presence didn’t make me angry. I thought it would but it didn’t. Even seated i was taller than him. You can’t escape your penance now, can you Lewis? He regarded me with a passiveness that wasn’t unlike him. I felt his eyes on me and in a sudden but momentary bout of self-consciousness, i folded my arms across my chest. Reversed, it seemed there was much about him to look at, to see, but everything presented itself with a familiarity that made it easy to conclude that everything was always there, that he’d stayed unchanged. If so, then the cut on his upper lip was new and just starting to heal but still with the rawness of a recent cut. Whatever happened there.
“Had something?” Lewis asked suddenly. Maybe it was good to be this direct. Not that it gave him away, it just emphasized his fondness for talking. He was always a talker this Lewis.
“I had a bagel on the way here,” I lied.
“Well, you still need some coffee in you,” Lewis said
“Not in this weather i don’t,” I said.
“I’m paying Danny.”
“Meaning what?”
Lewis ignored me and summoned this girl over. She’d been behind the counter when i walked in. A good girl it seemed. She had on a white apron, a small hat like nurses do, a name tag that read Jacky, and very red lips.
“Get him something cold,” Lewis said pointing his finger at me. This was that way to talk to someone you assumed wasn’t smart. He could have very well employed that omission of syntax. You know, “Him. Only. Drink.” But this girl didn’t look dumb. She understood and nodded. As she retreated, Lewis and i watched with interest. She had a nice walk and other nice things too. In our momentary silence, we heard the couple at the other table talking. So far it had all sounded like unintelligible chatter. Now it was sensible. “You can’t take my boy away from me,” the man said.
“You have never been a good father to him,” said the woman. Both hadn’t touched their pancakes. Soon the syrup would turn them into things unpleasant and sugary. Being a man was tough; you fought for everything. The man took a swig of his coffee and turned to look at me looking at him. He had a thin face with a nose that stuck out. I looked away.
“You will take death as aspirin,” Lewis said suddenly.
“What?”
“Just something i heard down at the course,” Lewis said rather casually. A guy in a large cowboy hat hurried past. We saw him through the glass. Lewis was always about something. He had made it so he was always like this. He knew all i cared for was my money. At the table with the couple, the woman had just started to cry and was making little sobbing sounds that were annoying. I listened to her crying and i guess Lewis did too, then my drink arrived and i didn’t regard the girl with suspicion. Girls like her, beautiful and obedient, didn’t have it in them to spit in your drink. She set it down on the table. Her smile showed a nice set of teeth. I thought i liked her. Lewis watched her as she went away. I swallowed just enough of my drink. Lemonade with shaved ice. It was pleasantly cold and i felt it all the way down to my gut. Lewis watched me. “You ever been to the course?” he asked shifting in his chair. All this sitting was hard enough. I didn’t have to think about it much. I had never been. “Look, i don’t care about horses,” I said and instinctively looked to my side. I saw the man reach for his woman’s hand. She pulled it away. Lewis had grunted his disapproval. Horses must have meant something to him. I guess you never really know someone. A little bit was alright, too much was burdening. I could tell he was fixing to say something. I beat him to the punch. “It amazes me how you always think you’ll get out of things just by talking,” I said. “I can’t say i like hearing you speak. Where’s my money, Lewis?” Everything came out proper as it should have. Lewis was quiet a while. He bent his head as if looking at something on the floor then looked up. In speaking, he spoke quickly. “Honesty, huh? I’ll give you honesty. Four years and i thought I’d be glad to see you. I ain’t. Four years and here you are looking like crap.”
“What are you getting at?” I was sat still just as i had done as Lewis spoke.
“Listen, I can’t let you fight that kid. I have a bad feeling about him. I do. He got offended i brought him over on a bus and almost knocked me out. Took three of my guys to subdue him. He didn’t have people of his own. Came with the guy I’d sent to get him. I mean, i don’t enjoy having a bust lip, but what can i do. I said fuck you with a bloody lip to that kid hiding behind three men. He’s a killer that one. It’s there in his eyes. You won’t fight him looking like you do. It ain’t good.” By God his words were empty. Empty! It’s not out of obligation that i listened to him. I knew it was out of something, just couldn’t tell you what. And having listened, i had to speak.
“I can’t fight this kid, huh?”
“Yes.” Lewis said this in a regular voice. He made as if to loosen his tie but thought against it. He had a small ring on his pinky. I saw it.
“Was it the same with Parrish?”
“Come on, Danny, you know Parrish had sense. He was no brute. Just a fighter like you were then. Now you are different.” Lewis said this gently like he meant it. Four years. That’s how long it had been. But Parrish still existed, clear cut in my head and still very poignant with his mockery as he had been back then. As he had been four years ago. “Take this beating and like it you yella dawg!”
Here with Lewis i wasn’t imagining this, i wasn’t imagining Parrish. What i wanted really was to wet my thumb with spit and count the money owed me. “Where’s my money, Lewis. Do you have it here with you?” I asked somewhat squinting both eyes. I guess it was the only fair way to express seriousness.
“No,” said Lewis looking away, his countenance awash with light from the window. He was older, creased in places i was still smooth. I felt nothing looking at him. And looking out the diner window just as he did, i saw as he saw, cars and people. This was a basic scene. But what were we? Very different people.
“I don’t have the money with me. I don’t because i sent the kid back to Calzone and called off the fight,” Lewis said finally.
“He was from Calzone?”
“That’s what i said,” Lewis said. I didn’t know a many people from Calzone. It wasn’t spoken of a lot for there wasn’t much to be said, only that it was far away. He’d sent this kid, this stranger back there. Could be, on the bus, this failed fight had filled him with renewed vigour, convinced him of something and in his excitement, leaned over to talk to the guy on his left to say, “I’m a fighter and nobody dares fight me.”
“Good for you.”
Maybe he was told.
“You are an idiot, Lewis,” I said not eager to extend the silence. Lewis leaned back in his chair and let out a chuckle. With a hand he reached and scratched at something at the back of his neck. Straightening himself with good ease, he spoke saying, “You know i have, at times, considered you a friend. Believe it or not. I know more than you do and this i want you to believe; that kid would have hurt you. Nobody wants to see their friend hurt.”
I couldn’t tell you when the word friend had assumed such commonship. Maybe it was when Camacho and Bilson, those sworn enemies who fought at the Ritz and were booed out of there, hugged each other for charity. I don’t know. But i will tell you that i knew a man called Caleb who spoke with a lisp. He was my friend. Lewis was never a friend of mine. He had spoken recklessly and i got the feeling that, as he spoke, he slipped a hand in his pocket and was pinching himself. I was suddenly disgusted by the sight of him. Looking at the floor to avoid his gaze, i saw streak marks. Not many, but they were there.
“Are you lying to me Lewis?” I asked this not looking up, not looking at him.
“I swear on my mother’s life,” Lewis said and sighed as if he had said it all, as if he was done speaking for good. Know this, God finished his work on the seventh day and there was no mother for him to turn to and say, “Look mother! I am finished.” He had missed out on this. For us mortals, we are lost a while sometimes and our mothers moan, “Where art thou my son!?” Mothers are good, mothers are prelude to a good faith. No one has a right to swear on their lives. I had never been guilty of this. And i have never claimed to be the bigger man. To be taken by a two pronged anger wasn’t mere play on clarity.
I was suddenly angry, angry at him not having my money and also by this indecent proclamation that had nothing to do with his mother. Allow me this old phrase. Now i will use it. Without much ado, i took him by the collar, pulling hard so that he was bent over flat on the table. “What’s the matter with you!?” Lewis screamed his surprise. What were his words for? To try and harangue my resolve? I was angry. He had to know this. This little commotion knocked over my drink, the glass rolling across the table then falling off the edge and breaking against the floor. The table cloth was caught under him surprisingly unchanged in shape. It was, to my sudden knowledge, glued to the table maybe as a precaution against such. Lewis fought against me, shifting his upper body this way and that, and holding him, my knuckles smarted. But i held on saying nothing.
“Hey!” A voice came suddenly. It was spoken from the side. I heard it. Turning my head to look, i saw it was the man who had come here with his woman. So they were still here. Oh, to be forgotten then remembered. “What are you doing?” this man said taking hurried steps towards me. His words, heard by all present portended reprieve for Lewis only. He had quit all that desperate moving and was regarding the other with interest, mouth slightly open. He looked silly bent over the table like he was. And an unanswered question had created a breach that needed filling. This man’s woman did. She said, “Ray, don’t.” It was tired how she said it and reaching out a hand towards this Ray, he slapped it away instinctively.
Now, i think it’s only right i admit to you that i had been afraid of Parrish. I had been very afraid of him in the ring. And now this Ray, he was Parrish. Transformed right before my eyes, Ray now had his face, he had his buzzcut and i was afraid again. I let go of Lewis and backed away somewhat, taking backwards steps just like you are imagining it. In letting go of Lewis, he had straightened up suddenly, so much so that some of his agitation was thrown out of him into the stereotypical diner air. It smelled of cooking really. What was left of it he used to fix himself – righting his tie and collar, all this done whilst clicking his tongue repeatedly. This was a common thing. He looked at me then mostly at the other but seeing him as only Ray. Parrish, disguised as Ray, made it to where i was quickly. He spoke with many words i didn’t hear, poking me in the chest as he did. I was afraid. My mouth was drying and my arms hung, not limply, but hung by my sides. I could have done more with them, don’t you agree? Maybe pushed his hand away as he made to poke me in the chest. But i was afraid and suddenly so clueless.
His woman, still in her chair, looked away. See, i was a man afraid. There was noise as rushing wind in my ears. Looking at Parrish disguised as Ray, i saw his lips moving but heard nothing. He was saying a lot. Suddenly i did. I heard him say, “Don’t just stand there, do something boy!” The moment didn’t stand still. Don’t be disappointed. Or maybe save it for latter. The girl who’d brought my drink and a short plump man emerged from some door with noisy excitement. She was saying something to the man who kept pointing at himself then at me. I saw them. Closing my eyes so there was darkness behind them, i swung at Parrish disguised as Ray blindly and felt my fist hit a part of the face that was hard and deserving. I was afraid. I was afraid. Someone let out a shriek but i didn’t see who. Weeks later, Lewis and his men chased me down to the pier and beat the crap out of me. I don’t love you my reader, i adore you and this is the truth. As for Parrish disguised as Ray, i guess you really can knock some out with your first punch in four years.
———
Image: Copilot AI remixed
Hope you guys enjoy reading this